The Strait of Hormuz breathes with difficulty, like a wounded animal that instinctively knows that there is danger hiding in the dark. An invisible line between fear and peace spans the river. The pitch dark night is full of eyes staring knowingly and afraid at the horizon. The flickering lights that brighten up the area are not stars or festive lights. They represent death and destruction!       

At dawn the Strait lies like an open wound. The loss of life on board the Safesea Vishnu was torn apart by an Iranian attack. The wreck, now a landmark, signifies the first shots fired in a senseless war. It is a senseless war that stole innocent lives. Now it is but one of more than twenty trade vessels that were hit within days within the deadly theatre of the war. The Zefyros, is another victim. It drifts nearby. What had been a proud ship was reduced to a handicapped piece of scrap that was hit by a missile.

On board each ship everyone is only too aware of the dozens of Iranian sea mines lying in wait, silent and cruel, just below the surface. Each mine represents an invisible death sentence. The men and women on board are no longer merely doing a job, they are gambling with their lives each day.

 Fear moves fast. It runs through passages, climbs walls, pierces steel and enters the depths of your body. It is loud, it shouts urgently: Survive! Protect! Escape!  

 Peace moves with a slower tread. It is an expensive commodity. It exists in spite of fear. It makes you deeply aware that fear can let you live, but not have your life.

 The sea holds onto everything - the fire, the smoke, the prayers that not many say out loud. The sea does not choose sides.

 Yet — amid the alarms and the shadows something small is happening. There is a hand finding another hand. There is an eye that says, ‘I see you’. There is a voice that is softer than the chaos. That is where peace is born. Peace is not the absence of danger, it is more the presence of Someone much bigger.

 The thousands whose paths are being rerouted around the southern tip of Africa, those that visit our harbours, carry the same fear and seek the same peace. That is why the CSO is there on the quay each and every day, despite the chaos and upside down world. We visit ships, we talk in the captain’s office. The longing for peace is unmistakeable. We place a hand on a shoulder, listen attentively and talk softer than the chaos. Why? Because our hope is in the One that gives that peace, the peace that transcends all understanding. We have the privilege of being the voice of peace to men and women working at sea, being the voice of peace in a world filled with absolute fear.

 When the Easter Bells peal, we shall remind each person of His victory over the gruesome events of the Cross. We shall remind everyone that the Cross brought about a new dispensation - one of love, hope and peace. With a financial contribution you can help us to take the peace of the Man of the Cross to hearts that are drowning in fear. Please consider it, also in prayer, to support us.