The time to travel on the ocean here in PNG is early in the morning. At dawn the sea is often like glass and a boat can skim along at a good clip. As the day procedes, the winds kick up and by afternoon the seas are often rather vigorous. With that in mind on December 7 we got up at 5AM to get the last of the supplies loaded on the boat to begin our trip to the village. I was thinking that if we could average 25 mph we could make the 125 mile trip in around 5 hours.
Well, as usual, everything takes longer than expected. By the time we were done loading the boat, topping off the fuel tanks, getting everything organized, tied down, covered, etc. it was 9:30 a.m. We should have been over half-way up the coast by that time. But the ocean looked fairly quiet so we shoved off.
The first hour we followed the coast due North. The waves were small and we were making excellant time. I checked the GPS and it said that our speed was 25.1 mph. Perfect. After traveling about 25 miles North, we rounded a cape and started West. Jan Messersmith, one of our PBT members who is very knowledgeable about things nautical, had cautioned us that conditions are generally rougher on the other side of the cape and to be careful. We were to find out exactly what he meant.
At first things were going well. The seas on the other side of the cape were definitely higher but nothing to be concerned about. The farther we went though, the worse it got. By 11:30 I was standing at the stearing wheel and looking way up at the tops of the waves coming at us. The boat would go up and over and crash down on the other side, rattling bones and nerves. We decreased speed but it didn't seem to make any difference. Kathy had the worst of it. She was sitting on a stack of cushions on the big square fuel tank and occasionally she would become airborne and then slam down on the tank when we hit the bottom of the trough.
And to add to the fun, I was getting sea sick.
At 12:30 I checked the GPS and it showed that we had reached the half-way point. We were feeling battered and bruised. I was so sick that I was having trouble focusing on the oncoming ocean. And at our reduced speed we still had several hours ahead of us.
There is a point in an airplane takeoff beyond which you are committed and there is no aborting. We felt like we had reached that point. We could turn around now and since we would be going with the waves, we could probably be back in Madang in a couple hours. Or we could continue pushing ahead. If we pushed ahead we were committed.
Reading this it may seem like it was an easy decision. It wasn't. We had worked so hard to get everything ready and we were so eager to get to the village and start our ministry, that in spite of the difficulty of the trip and our battered bodies, there was a part of us that just wanted to keep going. But neither the condition of the seas nor the condition of my stomach was getting any better. We refueled and turned around.
Going with the waves was better in the sense there were no more bone jarring impacts. But it was still not easy. With a following sea, there is a tendency of the waves to sneak up behind you, grab the back of the boat, and try to turn it around. So the driver has to be constantly aware of what is happening - a real feat when the driver in question is slumped over the wheel trying to calm his stomach. And there is a better chance of broaching. That is when the bow buries itself in a wave and a few hundred gallons of water decide to join you in the boat. Jan had told us about those things so we were somewhat prepared when they happened.
You have probably figured out by now that if we are writing this, we made it OK. Once we got back around the cape, things settled down a little and we increased speed. I got on the marine radio and called ahead to ask for some help getting unloaded. When we pulled up to the dock two PBT men and some Papua New Guineans were waiting. That is one of the wonderful things about working as part of a team. In short order we had all the equipment unloaded and I took the boat back to the mooring.
We learned a lot through all this. Kathy and I have about a page of things to do differently. First on that list is to be on the boat and leaving the harbor at first light. We also need to build some cargo racks to keep things dry, figure out a way to stow our gear better, make a windshield. And so on and so on.
One thing that encouraged us is how well the boat actually did. At no time were we really fearful that it might sink, or break up, or anything like that. It is large enough and well enough powered to handle the seas. It is obvious that we made a good choice of vessel.
God is so good. That we made it through this with only a few bruises and scrapes is evidence of his faithfulness and constant watch care.