I have decided to share some stories with you that have helped shape not my life, but my thoughts on God.
THE STORM AT SEA
Maybe Late 2002-2004
The Fishing Trip
During the end of 2002,2004 i cannot recall with complete accuracy. i had left my job at a local restaurant. I had not arranged any other employment, so was not working. I somehow scored a job as a deckhand on one of the fishing boats that come into the local port periodically, I had previously enjoyed leisure fishing but had never been on a commercial fishing boat before. I thought "yeah" i will give it ago. The boat was called the "Kotari" and it was based up north in a town called from Mount Maunganui, The crew consisted of myself, a skipper & another deckhand (Patrick) who like myself was a local Man. We were both inexperienced commercial fishermen, but were keen to get some sort of professional work experience.
We all met at the local fishing port, after introduction we went to the local supermarket to buy groceries to last us the 5 days we were meant to be away at sea. After topping up on fuel & Ice, we headed out from the ‘Napier Iron pot harbour’ In a easterly direction, The skipper estimated the fishing ground we were to fish from was about 70kms from the land. He was hoping to catch blue fin tuna. Apparently, this was the time of the year they passed through on their migratory passage northward.
The fishing day consisted of placing bait on 1200 fishing hooks usually prepackaged squid bait. This job was done when we set the long line and the boat slowly made its way from the first transmitter & buoy. It takes up to 5 hours to manually place the first piece of bait on a hook, to the end when the last bait is finally laid. The fishing line can stretch up to 20kms long. it has numerous smaller floater buoy’s to help keep it afloat and on both ends are electronic transmitters. These transmitters are used to "find" the fishing line once we rise in the morning.
After 5 days at sea we returned to 'Port Ahuriri' to off-load our small catch. I agreed to come back in a few days to try another week of fishing. The work was hard but it was good experience. There's a kind of peace out there in the ocean. You grow to admire and respect the sea when it becomes a way of life.
The second week of fishing consisted of the same preparation; except we were both more seasoned & experienced. Upon reaching the fishing grounds, we proceeded to bait the hooks through the night & set the line. We ate and then retired for the evening, had turns waking up to keeping an eye on the onboard radar. Every few hours we would receive onboard radio station reports which fisherman used to keep track of the weather forecast for the next few days, on this occasion they warned us of a incoming storm which was to reach us within 24hours,
We woke in the early morning and tracked down the beginning of the fishing line, we found the transmitter & proceeded to winch in the line. After about 2 hours the skipper realised our fishing line had broke during the night. This was caused by either another boats propeller or by a entangled sharks teeth. As we were examining the line. I heard a sharp sound like the sound of a whip. I lost my balance and grabbed the supporting metal rail bar which ran along the side of the boat. My entire face and body was covered in sea-water. I was trying to work out if a freak wave had drenched me, but then realised the boat had lurched to one side, so much so, that my face had actually mad contact with the sea. I turned and asked the skipper if we were meant to be out at sea (because of the previously days storm warning) He replied that we were looking for the other ‘transmitter buoy’ which was still attached to the lost fishing line. I realised the skipper had made a bad decision placing the value of a transmitting device before the "lives" of his inexperienced crew. The seas became very rough in a short time, myself and Patrick were very scared as we had never been in a weathered storm out at sea.
The skipper abandoned the search for his transmitter and tried to make his way back to Napier’s port. Which was about a half days sailing in normal conditions. After a few hours of trying to head back to Napier, he gave up, As the current and seas were to uncontrollable & rough. He made the decision to head to an outcrop peninsula, known as ‘Mahia’ the ocean current were also running in that general direction. During the course of our race to safety, we had numerous broken windows, lost more of our equipment, lost the 400 kg bait box. It had smashed its way through the tail end of the boat leaving a gaping hole. We lost the use of most of our electrical lighting. We were very scared & frightened. It was winter and cold out at sea and here we were! trying to make a run for safety in the dark.
Over a period of time when you’re scared that you may die, A million thoughts race through your head. It’s not like a "car crash" which is instant or a "near miss" at a road side. It’s prolonged agony of not knowing your immediate future if you were going to live or die. The seas were so rough, the last image i had before night fell, was a huge wave blocking out the setting sunlight, and being engulfed in semi darkness. It is a image that will haunt me and fascinate me, until the day i die.
While the skipper was at the helm, Patrick and i both prayed silently, hoping to survive and get out of this predicament. During the storm i remembered a story, a family member told me apparently one of my grandfathers had died at sea after purchasing a fishing boat. My great grandfather a chief had also drowned crossing a river. I made a silent prayer to my forefathers dedicated to them asking for help, i couldn’t think of anyone else to pray too.
To put it quiet bluntly! I have never been so scared in my life before, for such a long period of time. After hours of being thrown around in the darkness, you become accustomed to the fact "you might die"
After many hours we eventually made it too safety behind "Mahia peninsula., It was still dark when we arrived, we threw out the anchor and all retired for the night for much-needed sleep. I was the first to wake, I climbed up the gantry, climbed out onto the deck to have a look at the seas to get my bearings. The skies were covered in storm cloud but the rain had stopped. I could see land and the streets that snaked along the Mahia's coast. We were only about 150 meters from land. i made my way to the front of the boat which was facing towards the open sea, I directed my gaze skyward and focused on a beam of light that had broken through the clouds. It was facing in a northerly direction; My gaze became fixed and fascinated as i realised i had been watching the beam of light for about 5 minutes. It had not moved. There was plenty of cloud movement but still the beam of light had not moved.
I raced back into the hull and grabbed Patrick. He immediately followed me back out onto the deck. The beam of light was still there like a finger pointing north. Patrick said to me " I don't know what you said in your prayers bro, but thanks" I knew the light was pointing in the direction we must follow. towards Gisborne’s harbour. After the skipper woke and joined us we headed northwards to Gisborne, to safety.
During the night of the prayers i did mentioned if I survived i would promise to attend church service, if i made it back to land .....and i did!