Monday, November 7, 2016

Storm at Sea

Hurricane season, 1981.

The M/V Doulos sails toward Coatzacoalcos in the Gulf of Mexico.

Ten year old son, Stephan, and friend, Jochi, are on deck looking out at the horizon, it’s the same old everyday landscape, the undulating blue-green water sprinkled with a few white caps.

“Wouldn’t it be fun to see a storm?” says one. “We could pray,” suggests the other. Two days later, they are out on the deck at 6 a.m. The wind has picked up and the waves are 20 feet higher than usual, splashing over the deck. “This is fun!” the boys say. 

Later, four adventurous crew members sit on a 6 foot wooden sand-filled box enjoying the view, taking pictures.

“Help!” they scream as the huge wave washes them 100 feet aft.

“Hang on!” 

“My camera’s gone”

“I lost a shoe!”

Then, over the intercom, the captain booms : “Everyone inside. Secure everything that moves.”

The book exhibit had already been stowed before leaving the port of Veracruz. 

Some brave mariner said, “This storm is nothing, only a strong gale.” However, all night long the 300 passenger ship bobs mercilessly about like a cork on the heaving sea under strict orders not to enter the harbor. The next day, still unable to dock, we continue our circles in the open sea. Nearly everyone is experiencing some degree of sea sickness. School children have the day off, a 'storm day'. The shrill bell rings annoyingly on schedule to announce mealtimes, but few make their way to the dining room. Those who do, enjoy an over abundance of food while they hold onto sliding dishes and cutlery.

Like a colony of ants, those who could rouse themselves out of their bunks and were not needed to run the ship, the members of the missionary community make their way up to the main lounge. Most chairs are stacked and secured to the side walls. Young and old lay around trying to enjoy the classic movies playing constantly to entertain and distract. 

Stephan, his six-year-old sister, Leah, and their school age friends, enjoy the freedom of unsupervised play.
Two year old Sam goes down for a nap. What can I do? My stomach is stronger than most, I rarely experience even a touch of seasickness. I cannot imagine sitting in my little bathroom-cum-study-cubicle with books falling around me from the shelves built into the former shower stall. Perhaps I could sit on the floor in the children's room and reinforce the spines of the Ladybird books. I've been wanting to do that for a long time. That's it! Sure, the entire series of small children's books would be sliding around, but as long as I can hang on to one at a time, cut a strip of tape and slowly place it on the binding, it can be done!

No lives were lost, and in my case, no time wasted either. To this day, the sight of aLadybird book conjures up a stormy day at sea.