“Pirates”: Who could blame us if our first thoughts about the subject included children’s stories and fables? Images of plastic eye patches, a skull drawn in black ink with running lines, an untidy everlasting tattoo of a skull and cross bones on the forearm of a friendly villain saying, “Arrrr”... the mere word conjures up images of Peter Pan and Captain Hook, his farcical opponent. It represents Robert Louis Stephenson’s Treasure Island, almost a hundred and fifty years old.
The man that Danie meets on board the ship in Port Elizabeth admits that his calm appearance is but a hair width away from the traumatic nightmare he has survived. It is the first time since then that he had to sail along the same route down the coast of Africa. He thought he would be ready, that his feelings were protected enough to handle it, but the fear and anxiety took hold in the same way as the pirates did then.
It was only a few months ago that his ship was attacked, not by storybook villains in a fairy tale, but by brutal, armed and frightful men with every intention of killing anyone that stepped out of line. Twelve of his co-workers - his friends, his people, his comrades - were abducted. The silence following the attack was worse than gunfire. When it is raining bullets around you, with bullets hitting walls, sparking as they dance across the deck, only adrenaline keeps you going. It is the silence after this that breaks you. It is loaded with insecurity, it is unbearable and suddenly there are twelve voices gone from the ship... Now, with a new crew, he had to sail the same route again, back into the darkness.
In Coega Danie receives the emergency call. The seaman’s body language tells clearly that something is very wrong - his eyes are clouded, his shoulders heavy. They talk softly, carefully at first, knowing that the trauma he survived left him wounded. His fear covers all. It sits like a nettle, clutching his chest like a burning coal. After all, his former colleagues were only released a short while ago...
But why talk to Danie? How could he share his fears with his new crew? Just imagine if they said he could no longer work, what if they thought he was a coward? Just imagine this, just imagine that... he conjured up a thousand ghosts. With Danie, there is just enough distance, just enough familiarity. The work that we do is known among seafarers and they know they can trust us with anything they say, it remains private and between them. After a long talk, the seafarer has new courage. It is not because he has been healed suddenly, but because he could share his burden. He sees life continuing, not because the route is safe now, only because he knows that God is always at his side.
That is what the CSO does. We are, because of the Mercy of God, the safe haven for seafarers standing at an abyss that drives them to the edge of dejection. We offer a shelter in the storm. We remind them that they are not alone and not forgotten. Please consider us for a financial donation to continue this essential work. We do need your financial support.
PS. EFT Christelike Seemansorganisasie. ABSA. Current. 1520-230-226.
There is something enigmatic in the moment when a Bible changes hands. The stage is often a rusty old ship, a very small office on an oil tanker, or the wind damaged deck of a coal cargo carrier. This does not exactly shout sacred...
The act takes place without any pomp or ceremony, without a podium, microphone, cameras rolling or an ecstatic crown clapping rhythmically. It is a quiet and simple gesture between two people - one giving and one receiving.
The book changing hands is just as inconspicuous, black ink on normal pages with a simple cover. It is not leather bound with gold leaf printing or fine relief printing. It is just a small, hand-size book that will fit easily in the pocket of a uniform or overall. It looks like any other book - quiet, simple, almost not noticeable in the noise of the world.
Perhaps it is exactly why this silent gesture and simplicity, the absence of pretence, that signifies that something deep and eternal is happening. The act is simple, but the content immeasurable...
It is the story of our creation and our salvation, of a King that sent His Son... It is the prayers of David, the sorrow of Jeremiah, the praise of Paul... It is the breath of the Almighty, put into human words.
In the simple act, heaven and earth meet for a moment. The simplicity of the event contrasts with the immeasurable weight it carries. Truth. Light. Life. It is a gesture that seems to cost very little, but it carries the full fathom of mercy, freedom and peace - of God Himself.
Over the past days such simple events happened again and again: Chris gives a Bible to a Polish captain in a ship's office in Durban. Nico, on the other hand, gives a Bible to a man on the WEN JONG KOU, a ship from China. André is on board the CL Biliu Hè in Saldanha, where willing hands of a second officer receives his own Bible for the first time in his life.
That is why we continue, ship after ship, day after day. Because in those simple moments things far above our understanding happen.
God is great!
Thank you for empowering us with your donation and prayers to continue this simple act each and every day. It is worth more than you could ever imagine.
EFT. Christelike Seemansorganisasie. ABSA. Current. 1520-230-226.
It is an old, decrepit ore carrier... full of rust, disrepair, damage. All indicating that the end of its life is knocking and threatening. Once on deck, your conclusion is simple, but damning. This carrier will soon be reduced to scrap. For now the owner clings, stubbornly, to borrowed time. It is clear that they will tap the last bit of life from sailing this ship. In Coega they have to load another cargo and reach another destination from here. In the heart of the ship, in the hold, the men are working and living. They have to keep the rickety ship on course and above water.
A very young server works in the dining area. Upon Danie’s question, he explains that he has been working at sea for three years. Beneath the face of youth one can detect a little something reflecting the condition of the ship - decline, ruin and decay. These seem to have stolen something from the young man.
It is the unpacked CSO Bibles that eventually sways the discussion in the direction of the young man’s heart. He struggles with concern and feeling powerless, but these are now so embedded that you can see the effects in the way he walks, as well as the way he handles those around him. He has been away from home for eight months, with only thirty days left before his booked flight ticket will take him home again. What awaits him there includes horrible realities that incapacitate his soul. Sitting in front of Danie in the dining area these make him look worn out, wrecked and defeated.
“How will I survive these thirty days?” he asks urgently. “Please give me a word of encouragement”. It is an unashamed cry for help. The young eyes plead for words from someone or somewhere to carry him until he arrives home. It costs listening, care and empathy to help him calm down. He also did not only get a single word but received ‘The Word’. In the Tagalog Bible they search for God’s words of encouragement and they do so together. He reads and hears that God is with him and his family. He finally finds a way to place his concerns at God’s feet.
Danie got a few more opportunities to visit him before the ship left the harbour for the next destination. He did not only take his new Tagalog Bible with him for encouragement, he could also treasure the time that he spent with Danie. This simple treasure of such value will help carry him until he goes home. Every person that is worn out, wrecked and defeated deserves to be seen and to get the absolute reassurance - again and again - that there is always hope in Jesus Christ...
Please consider in prayer and deed to support us financially. It will help us remind every seafaring man visiting our harbours of this eternal treasure.
EFT Christelike Seemansorganisasie. ABSA. Current 1520-230-226
Mong, the third officer on board the CENTURY CHENZHOU proved it yet again to Nico this week - sometimes words are overrated. Words could be like a stream without pause, hurtling over the edge of silence, moving along without course.
Even for the most skilled word smith, one that can create sentences with great workmanship and expertise, meaning could disappear in a maze of double meaning. Words can confuse, hide the truth or even damn. Words may form a bridge or an abyss...
Similarly, a look, the rhythm of a sigh, a tear, a half-smile or silence could express more than a thousand words. It is as if deep feeling can exist without name or words.
The words between Mong and Nico are stolen by their inability to speak each other’s language. Their words form an abyss rather than a bridge. Even their best attempts to formulate or express meaning are hopelessly inefficient. Their meeting is, therefore quiet now...
It is exactly within this silence where they find meaning in an unusual way. As such, it is ironic that I am trying to describe the depth of the silence here with words...
The moment when Nico hands Mong a Bible in his own language, at the moment when their eyes meet in a friendly look, at the moment when there is (in spite of a wordless discussion) mutual understanding of the enormous event, it becomes a moment of bridging the silent gap in a way that cannot be described by a thousand words. When Nico explains the meeting, he also explains how deeply aware he felt of God’s presence. He also explains that Mong felt as deeply aware of the fact that they found themselves in God Moment.
Sometimes our service does not lie within the scope of words. Sometimes we understand only a part of what is said. That is exactly when we feel we should explain, talk, discuss, give more information and express all the beautiful things we think we can share with words. Yet, sometimes words are not necessary. Being without words may be enough to touch and move others deeply, because God is so much bigger than that which we can achieve with words!
May you be aware of every story to which you contribute, specifically that your contribution could work in ways that not even the best word artist can express. God is, indeed, bigger than our words and minds. Thank you for your share in this.
Each of us is a story - it is how we each exist and live. Interwoven within it are our time, place, introductions and endings. Also involved is conflict, perspective, tone, style and atmosphere. Bearing this in mind, the greatest mystery may be the way in which each story is without equal. Every story is individual, remarkable and unusual.
The third engineer now tells Danie his story while Danie visits his ship in Gqeberha. They each have a cup of coffee. At first the young man's story is full of ambition, explaining the great heights he wishes to achieve. One day he wants to be so and so, including the rest of it. As Danie asks questions, it becomes clear that the work story is only one part of his life. He also has a story that involves home. This includes antagonism, conflict and joy. The more he tells, the more it becomes clear that the story is set on the deep blue sea, but that the story is by no means simple. The mere sphere where it takes place implies associated intrigue. It is clear when he explains about being alone. It is clear when he explains the effects on relationships if you spend 10 months at sea. It is also clear when he explains the steel walls of a ship... Jonar's story is full of miracles, desperation, expectations, disappointments and every dramatic effect of a gripping story. Indeed, his story is without equal...
It seems as if we all involve more than a single cut story. Eventually each of us includes thousands of interwoven stories that form us to be something unique and unusual.
Danie is not only there to listen to Jonar's story. After he unpacked the Bibles in the sparkling clean dining area, there is another story that is closely knitted into their discussion. It is the story of a God that is deeply aware, involved and active in all our lives and He wants to be there. This is a God whose story is interwoven, knitted into the very core of our lives, because He formed us. He put us together. He created us. Jonar finds this realisation extremely valuable. It brings new perspective and hope. He smiles and holds the Tagalog Bible close to his chest when he finally says goodbye.
At the CSO we are involved with and active in the stories of men working at sea. More often than not, the stories are full of sorrow and searching. That is why it is such a privilege for us to remind every person we meet that the Great Storyteller's story forms such an integral part of our own stories and the stories of each of the men.
Please consider, urgently, to strengthen our hands with a financial contribution. Your contribution will help to rewrite stories each and every day of this year!
But also this - please remember in this year that your own story is unique, remarkable and unusual. We hope that you will also realise, in 2025, that God is aware of, involved and deeply active in your story. This promise is incredibly valuable.
Bank details: Christelike Seemansorganisasie. ABSA. Current. 1520-230-226.