On a Christmas morning during World War II, a convoy of eight ships was traveling through mountainous seas. Our ship, on her maiden voyage, was a large ten-thousand-ton freighter with a crew of seventy-seven Americans.
We had traveled across the submarine-infested Atlantic Ocean without incident and were within twenty-five miles of a safe haven. However, to reach safety we had to go through the dangerous waters of the Ellen Troddy Passage of the Hebrides, islands off the western coast of Scotland.
A magnetic mine had been set in the channel and was triggered to blow up the fourth ship in the convoy to pass over it. This fourth ship was my command. The explosion lifted the bow of the ship out of the water, tearing away the whole lower forward section. It was a terrifying moment. I humbly turned to God in prayer. As a Christian Scientist I knew God, all-knowing intelligent divine Mind, was totally responsible for our lives. With regard to the vessel and crew, according to the law of the sea the people aboard must come first. I acknowledged as my guide the Christ, Truth, that speaks to human consciousness in the still small voice. With this confidence I felt directed to drive the ship into the rocks in order to keep it safely above water and rescue the crew.
Grateful, I knew that man as God's image is safe, fully protected, always in the tender care of our Father-Mother God. It was clear to me that in divine Truth there are no accidents.
The ship came to rest on the rocks. We were in black darkness. Gale-force winds were driving heavy seas over the stern, covering the ship as it smashed up and down against the rocks. It appeared certain that a lifeboat would be destroyed in such a gale. In the pitch darkness and violent storm there seemed to be no hope.
The crew and I assembled on the ship's bridge and boat deck. As I prayed, I recalled the Bible account of Paul's shipwreck (see Acts 27). Even though there was destruction of the ship, Paul and those early seafarers were saved, each one. Recalling that Bible rescue, I felt an inner peace that was like a vision of light in the darkness, and assurance of safety. It was the radiancy of the ever-present Christ telling me we were safe. Truly, God was working out His purpose of safety.
The human picture had not changed. With her bow on the rocks and her stern in deep water, the ship was slowly starting to break up, with the full crew still aboard. Under the stress of the circumstances, the crew threatened to disobey orders and to launch the lifeboats. Their fear caused them to be angry. Reassured with the Christ, Truth, I knew no material elements could withstand God's omnipotence. With this spiritual conviction, I asked the crew to pray, each in his own way. This quieted the men. Divine Love had put the right words in my mouth.
Soon after, we saw a light on the lee side of the island. The British Navy had sent a ship to help us. They sent us a rope to rig a breeches buoy that is used in rescue work for ships in deep trouble. It was a slow, weary process but one by one the crew was sent safely ashore.
Six or seven men are normally needed aboardship to haul the breeches buoy back to the ship from the shore. On the third day of the wreck, all but three men had been saved. After much pounding by the waves, the ship's back was broken. We were expecting her to fall into the deep water at any moment.
Despite our weariness the three of us remaining were able to retrieve the breeches buoy. An ancient law of the sea is that the captain remain until last to leave the ship. After much persistent arguing based upon brotherly love, the two remaining officers were sent safely ashore. As captain, I was alone. With rejoicing I knew that God's promises are always kept. There was never a doubt about getting safely ashore.
The problem of the moment was how to get the breeches buoy close enough to the ship's side for me to get into it. This would take some doing. With God's help I knew it could be done. Praying for the direction of all-knowing Mind, I hauled the breeches buoy with block and tackle to within about ten feet of the ship's side. To human sense I was completely exhausted after three days without sleep, plus all the physical exertion and anxiety of getting the crew ashore safely.
"Dear Father, save me, I can of myself do no more. Please show me the way," I prayed. Then I remembered the first verse of the poem "Satisfied" by our Leader, Mary Baker Eddy (Poems, p. 79):
It matters not what be thy lot,
So Love doth guide;
For storm or shine, pure peace is thine,
Whate'er betide.
At that very instant I realized I was looking at the antiaircraft gun—an enormously heavy monster, mounted on the bow. The gun could turn in azimuth without electrical power, by mechanical gears. Here was the answer. I secured a heavy rope to the very end of the gun, trained it toward where the breeches buoy was waiting. Making the rope secure to a line from the buoy, I then trained the gun to the opposite side of the ship, bringing the breeches buoy right alongside the ship.
The rest was easy. Everything fell into place. I got into the buoy, thanking God for all His love, for the truth, for His beloved Christ, for man's spiritual indivisible relationship to Him. Next, I cut the gun's rope and slid down into the waves. Then our British friends hauled me ashore.
When I reached the shore I collapsed, and awakened later in the cottage of a kindly Scottish shepherd. As with Paul's shipwreck experience, I too was fed and cared for until I was strong again. God's dear love saved every one of the seventy-seven-man crew. Some of the men were months recovering but everyone was saved. Saved by God's omnipresent love, eternal truth.
To be grateful for Christian Science, this wonderful way of life, is my continuing prayer. I pray many others throughout the world will be blessed with proof of God's tender care for each of His children, regardless of how severe or hopeless the situation may appear to human sense.
I am grateful for membership in The Mother Church, most grateful to be active in my branch church, and for the spiritually uplifting experience of class instruction.
Lighthouse Point, Florida
