A language lesson then: BUT - a conjunction, used to combine sentences, to present two opposing concepts, or to explain or to expand something, or to confront something.
On sight value, BUT seems to be an insignificant, small word. In essence however, it can change meaning irrevocably. It states something and then transforms it. It explains, expands, confronts...
With this seemingly insignificant conjunctive word, seafaring men could find hope within their surrealistic realities. They could, held captive in the constrictive darkness of absolute helplessness, be reminded of BUT...
Do you remember the punch-drunk men of the DALI? Can you remember how they, thanks Chris' small gesture, could experience something of 'BUT God...'?
Can you remember the tragedy in Richards Bay? Can you remember the fifteen strong crew that waited, confused, distraught, shocked and longing for normality after one of the men took his own life? Can you remember how they, in spite of one of the worst times of their lives, could receive the Bread and Wine that Loffie offered days later and experience something of 'BUT God…'?
Do you remember the melancholic refrain of each of the stories from Durban, the Cape and Port Elizabeth? Those were the stories if seamen, written in minor chords, combined with the dark notes of hopelessness and giving up hope?
BUT, do you remember that there is a golden thread in each of the stories?
Do you remember that each visit reminded us again of a truth that changes reality irrevocably, transformed it and confronted it? Intertwined in each story is the story of the Man on the Cross, the story of life after the Cross, a story of hope. It is the story of 'BUT God...'
We remain mere instruments. Instruments that can remind us and others each day, that can help to transform and even confront at times. This radical difference that we are confronted with, that allows us to understand 'BUT God…' and see things in a different light. Donations received from our donors helped make our hands strong over the past months. These donations helped us to take care of the hearts of seamen by reminding them again of this often forgotten truth.
That leaves two aspects – first, please consider supporting us financially. In a world where these men working at sea are held captive in a critical and often fatal situation, our work is very important and urgently necessary to give these men hope – because there is a 'BUT ...' in every story. Your donation could be the instrument that allows us to do this.
Secondly: I do not know where you find yourself at the moment. Perhaps you are held captive in constrictive darkness, in absolute hopelessness. 'BUT God...' is also available in your life. We hope that 'BUT God...' will be a reality for you as it is each day for so many men working at sea.
With dragging feet, as if they are controlled mechanically, without much control, they move across the deck. Their feet move automatically, as if they have been captured in the repetitive scenes of a Greek tragedy.
Their body language shouts punch drunk. Their hair, thick, not cared for or cut for a long time, bear witness of the extent of the situation. It is becoming too long. It is more than their already broad shoulders can bear. For most it has been eleven months. For one man from the Philippines, it has been sixteen months...
Chris, visiting their ship, tells of the despair and broken morale on board the Dali, a container cargo vessel. It is different from anything he had ever seen. An all encompassing dark mood hangs over the ship, like an angry black cloud. In their heads remain the most important thought – that they have no way of getting home. It is an overwhelming thought.
Chris is there for one reason – to remind them of one truth. That there is a common juxtaposition that sets two concepts against each other, to explain, expand or confront the other...
– BUT God...
Punch drunk? - BUT God; In despair? – BUT God... There are a multitude of ways to share this message. One can issue Bibles, share a prayer, listen attentively, or one could just be there. But, today it lies in an insignificant small act that communicates something about hope. It is a small gesture that disturbs the monotony unexpectedly for a moment, to bring new perspective.
The chief officer with his days-old beard remarks that even shaving becomes a chore and challenge. Cut off from the outside world, something as basic as a shaving blade becomes a luxury item. Touching his unshaven face, he explains that his blunt and old razor has become nothing more than a useless ornament.
Chris leaves, but returns with a prize in his backpack – a razor. In this seemingly unimportant act, the chief officer discovers something about BUT God… He discovers something about caring, while being reminded by such a small act that he matters too.
Very often a story must be exaggerated to impress others. Perhaps that is why we often expect that BUT God... must be accompanied by expansive and wonderful miracles or spectacular interventions. BUT God… is also in the small, often considered unimportant acts. It is true for me, for you and for each seaman. It also lies in the small and seemingly insignificant...
The black dog barks on the edge of the beach… It may seem as if it is barking in the wind, but the barking is aimed at the majestic ships that sail past on the horizon, where heaven and earth seems to meet. He follows them actively, always threatening, always with teeth bared, always ready to scratch at cabin doors should he ever get the chance to attack. If he were to attack, his prey would be caught unawares, perhaps just vulnerable in that moment of attack. Sometimes, if he were to succeed, his bite could be fatal.
The stories about seamen falling prey to his jaws are becoming more commonplace. Apparently, depression is not only the illness of our time, it has become the illness of the open seas too...
That is the thread of the news that Loffie receives early from the harbour. A ship is on its way to anchor in the harbour. For one of the men, the bite proved to be fatal. He was alone in his cabin, after months of being cooped up and without a sliver of hope to go home – and that because of a virus that has transformed the world into a thoroughly disarrayed place. Tragically the man severed the thin line between life and death.
It takes a long time before Loffie is allowed on board. There is a sombre mood and the ship is full of policemen and harbour officials that must investigate the incident. It takes practised and exact bureaucratic gymnastics to obtain access to the ship.
What he finds, is predictable. The fifteen Philippine men sit there, confused, without words, shocked and longing for normality. They watch Loffie silently and questioningly. The Captain requested the visit by Loffie and his colleagues. Loffie knows that there are no instant cures or soothes to nurse the wounds of a friend and colleague that left an empty cabin. With great care and compassion, he starts the long journey with each of the men. For now, he is just there, without doing anything drastically, or without any interventions to change things. Getting better requires time and that time is different for each individual.
Now, much later, one by one arrive to chat. It is clear that the black dog’s attentions reach wider than many people may imagine. Some of the men should have been home a half year ago, but in the current situation it is not possible and it shatters the nerves. It is as if the black dog found a soft spot and holds on...
Loffie can only listen. No education, nor learned words can save the men from their reality. The only thing he can offer, is a very simple assurance: BUT God....
In a few days they will be on their way again. Their hearts still raw, still broken, still afraid, but now with a certain knowledge: BUT God....
Loffie offered mass, the wine and bread as remembrance and a reminder that after the comma, there is a BUT... This is a guarantee in spite of storms and the bitter waters of life. There is a BUT, ‘It is My body, it is My blood’.
When the ship will be about to disappear over the horizon, the black dog will be there, still barking, BUT God...
His nerves are just beyond no repair. The nerves are shattered... Everything is tumbling out of control. Far from the comfort of threatening orange lights, the red lights are flashing critically, accompanied by the sounds of shrill sirens that cut into the bone. All he knows is hanging from a very thin single thread. He worries about the seeming strength of that thin thread...
It is like a perfect storm. Most of the Russian Captain’s crew should have left for home four months ago, but they are still here and no one knows when they will ever see home again. Six of the crew are ill. In other harbours visited earlier, all requests that they leave the ship to obtain medical care were denied. If one of the men were to leave the ship to obtain medical care, it would mean that they cannot sail. It would mean that they have fewer than the prescribed and allowed minimum number of men required to operate such a majestic coal carrier on board.
But, there is more. His crew received their last salaries three months ago. And, as the current situation dictates, they think that he, the Captain, has something to do with that. The situation on board is so desperate that one of the men tried to take his own life to escape the dire situation...
Then, that is only his life on board. No mention yet of his family at home. What about the worries about the chaos at home...?
However, Loffie and one of his co-workers are there. They immediately talk to the authorities to try and alleviate the feeling of hopelessness on board. They arrange for a doctor to visit and treat the ill, while they take care of hearts and nerves that have been shattered. They do their best and what they can...
Every small act and every discussion enhance understanding. The discussion Loffie has with one of the seamen from Indonesia, the doctor’s care, the SIM card each receives to call their families, the listening to the Captain’s dilemma – every act and discussion makes the message clearer. BUT God!... Ill and abandoned – BUT God! Lonely... BUT God! Hopeless... BUT God! After all, what is left once you are stripped from all. What do you have when all hangs on a thin, thin thread? What hope does one have then?
How valuable to have someone visit you on board to remind you of the contradictory message after the comma – BUT God… That is Hope.
A language lesson then: BUT.
It is a conjunction, could be a preposition or may be an adverb or even a noun. It is used to combine sentences, to present two opposing concepts, or to explain something, or do expand on a concept or present a confrontation.
Purely at sight value, BUT seems to be an insignificant, small word. In essence however, it can change meaning irrevocably. It states something and then transforms it. It explains, expands, confronts...
Perhaps this seemingly insignificant conjunctive word offers us hope in the current surrealistic reality. To say BUT in all encompassing darkness, or remember BUT in an absolute hopeless situation, to whisper BUT in fear of death, BUT – perhaps it means hope?
BUT, seems to convey something about God's nature. Stating a fact, the status quo is often followed by BUT... That BUT could transform everything dark and lost through mercy and compassion. BUT can explain, expand, confront and transform...
It was so for Noah… drifting on the dark, deep waters, anxious, hopeless, without vision, full of fear and afraid. These are adjectives that probably summarise the feelings of those on board the ark in a nutshell. BUT, God remembered Noah … and He sent a wind over the earth and the waters receded.'
When Joseph was reunited with his brothers, he could have reacted with anger and hatred, BUT he said 'You intended to harm me, but God intended to it for good to accomplish what is now being done...'
For the lost Christians of Rome that taught about the wages of sin – 'BUT the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.' For the lost Ephesians, 'BUT because of His great love for us, God who is rich in mercy made us alive…'
We truly need to hear this! BUT God...
Covid 19 – BUT God…; Despair – BUT God; Sadness – BUT God… Where you are sitting, reading this letter, it is meant for you too: 'BUT God...'
The shipping industry is locked in what is described as the worst humanitarian crisis it ever had to survive. Although estimates differ, it is said that the contracts of about 400 000 to 600 000 seafaring men and women expired and that they have no way to return home. They are the captives within a surreal reality. The stories we hear every day are not just sad, they break your heart...
At the moment, our work at the CSO is more important than ever. It is urgent for seafarers stranded on ships, floating on the dark, deep waters, full of fear, filled with hopelessness, fearing a loss of vision, anxious and afraid – or you may use any other adjectives you wish to summarise those scrambled emotions in a nutshell, to hear: BUT God...
Over the next weeks, we want to share stories about these men with you. They are captive in the grip of the crisis. They find hope in the small word following a comma, BUT God...
We hope that this will give you hope too.