Welcome to our series You're Not Alone, in which Allen Sonter, for many years a missionary educator in the islands of the South Pacific, tell stories that help us to know that God is always watching over us wherever we are.
This episode is entitled When God Changed the Captain's Orders. The captain was sympathetic.
I'd like to help you, he said, but my orders are to sail to Nukualofa via Tofua. I stood at the end of the old wooden jetty at Pangai main town on the island of Lifuka in the kingdom of Tonga. Already the sun was high in the sky and the waters of the lagoon sparkled as a light breeze wafted in from the sea.
Somehow the beauty of the white sands, waving palms and blue sea passed unnoticed as I pondered my problem. I was visiting the main islands of Tonga, administering an entrance examination to children wishing to enter Bueller College, the main 7th day Adventist secondary school in the kingdom. Most of the candidates were students completing their final grade in government primary schools, and the trip had been so far very successful.
In company with Stephen, a Tongan lad who assisted with the examination supervision, I had traveled north to Vivao and now to Pangai, about 100 miles from home. On the return journey, we had two more islands still to visit, the only means of transport being the Fungi Lufuka, a small government owned vessel now lying at the jetty. I wandered over to the jetty where the captain of the Fungi Lufuka was supervising the loading of supplies.
We exchanged greetings, and then I asked the captain where he was scheduled to go that day. My orders are to sail to Tofua and from there to Nuku Alofa, was his matter of fact reply. The islands we were to visit lay roughly on the direct route from Pangai to Nuku Alofa, while Tofua lay way to the west.
The ship would be going nowhere near the islands we wish to visit. Wouldn't it be possible just to call in for a little while at half ever? I asked, naming the closer of the two islands I needed to visit. I'm afraid not, was a reply.
You see, it would take us a long way off our course and we should be at Tofu by tomorrow morning. The little ship moved gently and the wavelets lapped around the barnacle encrusted posts of the jetty. Well, I suppose there's nothing for us to do but to return to Nukolofa with you, I said, as there's no other ship likely to be around for several days.
The kindly captain nodded. You know, he commented, I was a student of Bueller College years ago. I'll do anything I can to help you, but I have to follow the orders that come from the government office.
I turned and sat down on my suitcase. The old jetty creaked as the lines from the ship tugged at the posts. The captain went aboard his ship and busied himself with preparations for sailing.
I bowed my head and prayed, lord, this is your work. If you want us to conduct the examination at Halfeva and Namuka, please open the way. With this prayer still in my heart, I stood up and walked slowly along the jetty, not really knowing what to do.
Just then, a messenger from the government office came hurrying toward the ship, picking his way quickly over the gaps left by the missing planks on the jetty. He was soon talking to the captain. Several other passengers and sailors soon gathered around, and it looked as though something was afoot, so I made my way back to the ship.
After the messenger had left, I went up to the captain. What's the news? I asked excitedly. He answered, A message has just been received that a whirlwinder struck the island of Mango.
It's destroyed most of the village, including the school buildings and some of the village gardens. A couple of people have been injured. I have orders to sail to Mango with an agriculture officer, an education officer and a health officer to assess the damage.
We are then to sail to Nomuka to drop the three officers so they can find passage back here while we continue on to Nuku Alofa. You're very lucky, because now you will be able to go to Namuka. You see, I can stay long enough at Namuka for you to conduct the exam.
It's certainly too bad about the whirlwind, I replied, but I appreciate your willingness to make it possible for us to conduct the exam at Nomuka. Another thought crossed my mind. Say, I continued, you couldn't just drop in at Half effort on the way to Mangal, could you? It's almost on the direct route.
The captain rubbed his chin and thought for a moment while I thank the Lord for beginning to answer my prayer. It all depends, he said, on what time we get away from here. He glanced at his watch.
It's now almost 12:00. We're about ready to leave. There's just a drum of fuel to be run into the tanks and we'll be on our way.
I'm afraid we won't be able to stop at Half Ever, because if we did, we wouldn't be able to reach Mango before dark. As we can't get in through the reef at Mango after dark, we can't afford to stop on the way. Noting my disappointment, he added, if we should happen to be delayed here until after 02:00, we won't be able to get into Mango tonight.
So we would perhaps go to Half. Heva spend the night there and leave about three in the morning to reach Mango at first light. But there's no reason for a delay, so I'm afraid you'll just have to miss Half heaven again.
I turned away, and this time asked the Lord that if it was his will, we would be able to conduct the exam at Half Ever within a few minutes two sailors appeared rolling a 44 gallon drum along the jetty. They reached a section where only two planks lay across the several foot wide space in the wooden decking of the old structure. So I went over to help them maneuver the drum across this difficult spot.
We soon had the drum safely beside the ship. The plug was removed and the contents of the drum began to pour into the ship's fuel tanks. The sailors and I were standing by watching when the man closest to the drum exclaimed hey, there's something funny about this fuel.
He leaned over and sniffed. The opening of the drum smells more like kerosene than diesel to me. Quickly all eyes turned to the drum, where plainly lettered across the top were the words mobile Laurel lighting Kerosene.
Immediately the siphon tube was removed from the drum, but 30 gallons or more of kerosene were already mixed with the diesel in the tanks, and if the engine were run on that mixture, the ship wouldn't go very far. The captain was soon on the spot and ordered the tanks to be emptied. It was a long and laborious task, since all the pumping had to be done by hand.
By the time the tanks had been emptied and refilled with clean fuel, it was 02:30 in the afternoon. Everyone else was nonplussed by how the kerosene could have been delivered from the depot and filled into the tanks without anyone noticing the words so clearly lettered on the drum. But I was sure that the Lord had had a hand in the matter.
The captain came over to me. You're lucky again, he said. Now we will have to spend the night at half ever.
A few minutes later, as the little ship pulled away from the jetty, I thanked the Lord again and marveled at the means he had used to change the captain's sailing orders. He was there to help when I needed him. Perhaps you might be saying to yourself those happenings, the whirlwind and the mistake about the fuel were simply a coincidence.
I've seen things work out in answer to prayer too often to accept that those things were just a coincidence. God was there, and although I don't believe that the whirlwind was his doing, he used it as a means of solving my problem. And friend, whoever you might be, god loves you as much as he loves me.
You're not alone, any more than I was away out there in that small island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.
You've been listening to our series You're Not Alone stories told by Allen Sonter that help us to know that God is always watching over us, wherever we are. If you have any comments or questions, send an email to
[email protected] or give us a call within Australia on zero two four nine seven, three three four five.
Six. May God bless you and remember you are not alone. You have been listening to a production of Three ABN Australia australia Radio.
