“Incoming vessel, turn hard to port next to the jetties as close as possible! I am coming fast on you, but I can’t see you, over…” Came a voice over the radio at the very moment Andre turned the VHF on.

“What did he say?…”  “Was that for us?…”  I asked.

“I’m not sure…” responded Andre, as he fiddled with the squelch nob.

I began cutting the wheel hard to port…

Suddenly, as if it materialized right there in front of us, was a very large commercial fishing ship with it’s long outriggers stretched wide.

“You got to be kidding me!!!” I growled as I thrust the throttle forward.  Although we were able to avoid the ship, its outrigger stretched much further out, and was coming fast toward our 50ft mast.  Just as I had to turn from hitting the rock jetties, I looked up.  The ship’s outrigger missed our mast by a couple of feet as we swayed up and down over it’s large wake.

“THAT’S IT!… I’m claiming a safe peaceful trip from hear on out!!!” I declared.

As we motored peacefully into the harbor, I pondered on the amazing way that G-d manages to redeem the most unredeemable of situations.  Andre who was so distraught from having put his family in grave danger, was suddenly restored to being responsible for saving us, with a simple but very timely turning of a radio dial…  Even more important then being restored, Andre realized a priceless lesson; heroes are not people born with the ability to do great things all the time.  Rather , they are people who humbly realize all our actions are in the hands of G-d, and it is only by His grace that we are able to move heroically …

As we approached an empty dock, we were greeted by a dazzling fan fair of happy, flashing casino lights of every color all around.  We had arrived at Atlantic City.

Although the weather conditions were fine for the next several days, Lisa needed some time to rest from the traumatic experience we had gone through.  In truth, I’m certain we all could have used some time to gather ourselves and rest…  Who would have thought;  Atlantic City… a place of rest, and indeed we rested.

During our stay, we went several times to get provisions in the heart of the city and came across a variety of noticeable acts of kindness.  One in particular that moved me; Andre and I were waiting in line at a very fancy McDonald’s next to the Taj Mahal when a scruffy looking man approached.  He had been approaching other people before he came to us.

“Do you have a few quarters you can spare?” He asked.

“Sorry…” I replied, “I don’t have any quarters.”

There was a “woman” sitting close to us.  When she saw I didn’t give the man any quarters, she got up, reached into her pocket and handed him several dollars… “Here man, is that enough?…” She asked with a very deep voice…

“More than enough, thanks! Now I can take the bus home.” The man replied as he walked away.

I realized the woman was actually a man dressed as a woman when he sat back down to continue eating his bacon cheeseburger… He was the only soul moved to help a stranger in that crowded place.  I was reminded of Yeshua’s words when he said to the Pharisees : “Prostitutes and tax collectors will enter the kingdom before you do…”

After enjoying a wonderful three days of rest, we decided it was time to head out.  Across from where we were staying, there was a fueling dock.  With the excitement that can only be understood by a crew that is ready to set sail, every one did their part to prepare the vessel for departure.  We motored across the way to the fueling station, and tied Aleph Tav effortlessly to the dock.

“Uhgggghh!” I mumbled in disgust as I looked into the window of a locked Marina.  “Can’t anything go according to our plan? EVER?…” I asked as if anyone who cared was listening…

To be continued

Convinced we were way ahead of schedule, Andre had veered off course for several hours, angling our heading toward what appeared to be a safe harbor.    What he didn’t realize is that there was not a single docking area, fueling station, or marina within miles of this “harbor”; a sure sign that this was an area where there is no boating activity due to dangerous conditions.

Exhausted from pulling a nauseous all nighter with large swells, Andre handed me the wheel and went to sleep.  I desperately searched for a straight route out with no success, but back tracking was out of the question as I would have had to travel backwards for many hours.  The only way out of that mess was to navigate in a jigsaw puzzle-like path in order to avoid running aground.    Making matters worse, at a very slow speed, chart plotters do not show an accurate heading.  With zero visibility, and no heading on the chart plotter, I had to increase Aleph Tav’s speed in order to get an accurate heading and navigate out of there…

A message flashed on the screen, WARNING: danger area.  Depths shown are inaccurate due to tide shifts and currents!

One thing the chart plotter did show accurately, was a sunken ship yards from our location…

“OK FATHER… Here we go again… HELP!!!…”  I cried out loud.  At that, a large swell lifted us up and dropped us with a loud THUD on a sandbar sideways.  Another large swell spun Aleph Tav around placing our aft (rear end) in the direction of the coming waves.  Another large swell rolled right over our rear deck, pouring a gush of water through our bedroom hatch over Lisa who was hanging on for dear life.  Noah screamed, as the salon stairs went flying along with everything else in the boat.

It is difficult to imagine anything more traumatic than the situation we were in, yet something much worse happened…  I heard what sounded like a crunching sound of rocks beneath us.  Under a normal situation, this would certainly be the end of Aleph Tav, but our situation is far from normal… Just as I began contemplating getting every one into Navi, another large swell lifted our aft high, pulling Navi beneath it and smashing the small boat’s bow as it came down and into deep water…

The ocean was smooth as with very high swells as we motored off.  I checked for breaches in the hull, but there were none;  Not a single crack, or leak, just a few scratches where Aleph Tav came down on Navi.

Lisa peeked out of our comfy sleeping bag: “I think I’m traumatized…” she whispered as I held her for some time.

Snap… Snap…SNAP… “Now what???” I exclaimed as I looked toward the source of the piercing sound.  The swells were so high, all three lines towing Navi snapped, leaving the battered boat adrift in the thick fog… With Noah and Gabriel keeping an eye on Navi, Andre making numerous passes with Aleph Tav, and yours truly leaping though the air onto the small boat with a very large rope, we rescued Navi once again.

We rolled smoothly over the continuous swells and returned to our proper course.  No one spoke a word for hours.  Then Andre broke the silence:  “I can’t believe I almost frik’n killed my whole family… I’m not touching anything on this boat for the rest of the trip!”

Navigating slowly through the canal where we would find a safe harbor, we looked intently ahead trying to see through the fog.  Our radar and hard wired radio had gone offline due to all the bouncing we went through when we ran aground.

Andre, forgetting his vow not to touch anything for the duration of the trip, picked up the hand held VHF radio and turned it on…

To be continued

The crane operator waited patiently for quite a while, as what looked like two waterfalls poured out of Navi’s hull.  “Your gonna have to dry this hull completely, before you can repair it!”  said a marina worker who was assisting.  I was aware of this, but how would I manage to do that with a waterlogged hull, at night, in the rain, with no electric outlets, and a small amount of repair materials?…

There I was with Andre soaking wet in mud and rocks, under a very wet hull with towels, Lisa’s hair dryer, and our small space heater…  I heard footsteps come to a stop near us.  I peaked from under the boat.  It was the marina worker with his hands in his pockets.  “Your never gonna get that hull dry that way!.. You would need electricity, but the power is out, and you would need an industrial heater…”  He said as he walked away.

Andre and I continued on our futile attempt to dry Navi’s hull, but water just kept coming out.

There was a construction company repairing the marina from the damage that Hurricane  Sandy caused one year prior.  When one of the workers saw Andre and I under the boat with a hair dryer, he called me.  “Come with me.” I followed.  “Here!.. You see this button? On… Off… You got it?… Use it as long as you need it.  Good luck.”

There I stood in front of a brand new, very large generator.  The kind that you have to tow behind a truck.  Now with a working blow dryer and a light, we continued our work under the boat, but the water just kept leaking with a steady flow…

The crane operator came over and said: “Boy, you sure are inconveniencing a lot of people today!…”

I responded: “Well, if it’s worth anything, this boat belongs to orphan children in Haiti…”

“Oh I see… It’s a good deed… That’s suppose to make it all better?…” He responded with a chuckle, “Here, maybe you can use this…” He said, as he handed me an old can of bondo hair fiberglass.

Some time later we heard the squealing of rusty wheels bouncing over the rocks and pushing through the mud.  As the sound drew closer, I looked. It was the marina worker; he was dragging a very large industrial shop heater.  “Here, try this… It’s all fueled up.  Just don’t put it to close to the boat or else you’ll torch it.” He said as he walked away.

These moments amaze me… If something is impossible, and you do nothing, it remains impossible… However, if you do ONE thing in the face of impossibility, regardless of how futile it may be, just keep doing it… That action sends an unstoppable wave that resonates all around beyond infinity… On its path, hearts are moved, drawn to that ONE place where it began, and when they come together, the letters I and M vanish from impossible…

Several hours later, Navi’s hull was dry, patched, and ready to return to the water.

The following morning, the crane operator lowered the boat into the water and drove away.  We all left Aleph Tav and went to the office to thank them and ask what we owed them for their services.  They wished us well and told us there was no charge.  The Crane operator was the marina manager…  We extend our thanks to Nichols Great Kills Park Marina.

Relieved to finally be free from what turned out to be 8 days in a frozen Staten Island, we sailed south onto a smooth sea.  For hours we sailed in perfect conditions as the warm sun glistened on the water.    With the autopilot set, the Perkins motor humming and the genoa fully out I left Andre and Gabe on watch as we all were rocked to sleep…

Three hours before our scheduled shift change, I woke up at 7am. We were surrounded by a very thick fog.

“How’s it going Andre?….” I asked.

“Great, we will be coming into the harbor soon.” He answered with great confidence, as his long hair curled out of his hood and he adjusted his cool shades.

“HARBOR???….. What harbor!!!!!!!  We are three hours away from adding fuel to our tank and THEN there’s a harbor!!!! Where are we?!….” I asked,as I came around to look at the chart plotter…

To be continued

With very full and perfectly satisfied bellies we all waddled to a bus stop where we waited for bus 79.  If You didn’t know any better, you would have thought Applebee’s was the greatest gourmet restaurant in the world.  …and bus 79?…  incredible, just envision this: a driver stops right there in front of us… Just for us… and the people in the bus?… Not a single one reacting to the fact we just delayed their trip.  What amazing patience and kindness.  …Lights, the bus had lights all over the inside, and heat!… In Aleph Tav we have to monitor our lights and heat, but not on bus 79.  Light and heat just kept coming…

There was a time when I would have driven past a lonely person shivering at a bus stop and not given it a single thought, other then perhaps being frustrated that the girl at Dunkin Donuts put too much cream cheese on my bagel and forgot to give me napkins.  A time where I would not have considered eating at Applebee’s if it were the last restaurant on earth.  Yet I cannot fully express how truly blessed I felt as the bus drove us to our stop.  It is amazing how much you begin to treasure the least of things when all you have is the least of things.

We arrived at Aleph Tav ready for a perfect night’s sleep.    In fact, we were ready for an entire weekend of rest, as we would have to wait until Monday for Navi to be pulled out of the water.

Before turning in, I checked on her one last time.  Navi sat there floating barely above the water line, held afloat only by her inflatable tubes.  Speaking of inflatable tubes; boy was I glad the repair we did on these tubes before our departure, was successful.  I didn’t think it would have been possible to fix some twenty stab wounds made by a very angry ex wife, but the repair held perfectly well; enough to keep the boat from sinking.

…Ok, I know; “stab wounds, angry ex wife…” How in the world does that fit into the story?…  Well, it appears we have some down time for a couple of days, so I have time to share.

It was a hot summer day, and I had been working since 4:30 am to remove Aleph Tav’s old, scratched, sun cracked windows.  I had been putting this project off as much as possible because of how difficult it is to remove any thing attached with a caulking adhesive called 5200.

With a heavy duty grinder, goggles, and respirator mask, I ground out the 5200 for hours, covering everything with a thick layer of the old musty rubbery grime.  With all the noise, I was unaware that a man was knocking on one of the windows, so I continued grinding.    But the man was very persistent.  I stopped to see what he wanted.  He had been watching all I had done on Aleph Tav for months and wanted to compliment the work.

When I mentioned what I was going to use the boat for, he asked: “Do you want a bigger boat?”

“Sure!…” I responded without giving it much thought.

This man bought, fixed and resold boats for a living.  He knew of a boat that was being disputed over at a nearby marina, and thought perhaps the owner would donate it for our work.  I went to see the boat.  It was a 60ft yacht, one of three specially made for National Geographic.  The yacht had had a fire, and while being repaired, new owners took over the marina.  When the new owners did not honor the former repair contract, a feud ensued.  Sure enough, when I showed up and shared the work we have done in Haiti, both parties saw it as a beneficial way out, and within one week, we were owners of a $1.2 mil yacht.

Only one small problem; the repair bill being disputed was $350,000…  Even after cutting every corner I could think of, it would cost us at least half of that, in order for the boat to be seaworthy and operational.  But how do you raise $150,000 to fix a boat, when you can buy a perfectly good boat for one third that price?…

We held on to “Arbela” as long as we were able to, but at a mooring cost of $900 per month, we knew our time was running out.  We were prepared to tow her to Florida, but unexpected changes in our plans made that option impossible due to the fact we would be traveling in the winter.  With three weeks left, I desperately tried to come up with a way to salvage as much as I could from this amazing gift with no success.  I felt like the man in the story “The old man in the sea”…  an old man who spent days caching a huge prize fish, only to have sharks devour it on his way home.

Left with no options, I returned to the man who flipped boats…  He told me he would like to help, but that it would be nearly impossible to get anything out of that type of boat in such little time.  Simply put, people who have the money to get a 1.2 million dollar yacht, are not looking for fixer uppers, and every one else, would not be able to afford it, even if they wanted it.

The only thing the man had to offer was a Novurania in trade.    Only a couple small problems…  As I walked with the man to see the boat, I noticed countless slits into the deflated tubes.  “It’s my ex wife…” The man explained, “She’s a raving lunatic!!!  She thinks I was taking broads on joy rides with this thing, so she tried to kill it… She’s a psycho!!!  Oh yeah, and the motor is not running, but this is a Novurania, once it’s fixed it will be a great boat.”

“…well, were you bringing “broads” for joy rides on this boat?” I asked.

“That’s no reason to stab a boat to death! This is a Novurania… Broads dig this thing, she’s just a psycho!!!” The man protested.

And there you have it, “The rest of the story” as Paul Harvey once said.

We named her Navi and began praying for help to have her repaired.
After receiving a very timely love offering, we were able to repair the stab wounds, and install a new motor with only ten hours of use… Little did I know this motor would only have a ten hour life span, as it now sat submerged in frozen salt water for days.

On Monday morning, as Navi was lifted out of the water, we all stared with disappointment.    The damage was worse than we could have imagined…

To be continued

We found a hotel…  Although we were completely exhausted, damp, and numb, we dared not sleep under the bed covers.  This place was horrible.  There was a crack pipe under a mattress, a black rosary, and where there should have been a Gideon Bible, there was an opened… Well let’s just call it a balloonish procreation-inhibiting devise.  Yet, much more upsetting to me, was thinking about Lisa and Noah way out there all alone in that cold, dark, stormy night.  I was comforted only by knowing they were in Aleph Tav (Hebrew for Alpha and Omega).

After some time, exhaustion finally prevailed over the smell, dampness, and cold.  We fell asleep fully clothed on top of the beds, while the one fuzzy TV Channel lit the room.

In the morning, I was delighted to hear Lisa’s voice over the phone.  Although she didn’t sleep much, Lisa and Noah were just fine snugly and warm.  The boys and I hurried back to the shore to assess the damage.  It was bad… It was worse than bad.  Navi was swamped and completely frozen. Being low tide, she laid on her side, revealing two large gashes in her hull.  If that was not bad enough, the subfreezing temperatures overnight turned the entire shore into 3 to 4 inches solid ice.    It was over, we had lost the boat.  We would do well to simply get out of there before the ice reached Aleph Tav, and we were all stranded there.

Neither I, nor the boys said much of anything on our long slow walk to a nearby marina.  As we neared the gate, I looked for the marina’s name.  Perhaps in it, I would find some encouragement, like the Mount Sinai and Mustard Seed names we had come across several days earlier, but no, not this time.  Great Kills Marina…

The place was closed and looked pretty devastated, apparently a victim of hurricane Sandy.  We stared into a locked office wondering were to go next when a car pulled up and a man with keys approached the door.  He let us in and we told him our sad story.  Before he could react to it, another employee entered and he eagerly said: “listen to this story!!!” then proceeded to tell it as we stood there as exhibit A.  As each employee came in, he just kept telling them the story over and over.  I got sick of hearing the dumb story so I left the office to call Lisa. I let her know that Navi was gone.  Lisa was very sad and asked if there was any way we could save it.  I assured her there was no way.    Navi was swamped frozen and her hull was badly breached.  Even if we pulled it out, she would simply sink…

I walked back into the office where the man was telling yet another person about our story, and I interrupted:  “Look, it’s like this, we neither have the time, funds, or ability to save the boat.  I have to get my family out of here before we get frozen in, so can someone please give me a name and address? I will mail you the title, and you can salvage it as best as you can when the ice melts… It’s a Novurania…”

Not a single hand went up.  The office was quiet with all the employees staring at me… The man who had been telling the story spoke:  “You can’t do that… You have to go get that boat!”

I protested: “I’m really sorry.  I have no desire to abandon the boat next to your marina, but it’s not like I’m littering; that’s a Novurania!…”

“I know that’s a Novuraia, that’s why you can’t just leave it here.  You have to go get it.  Look” he continued, “…you get it here and I’ll take it out of the water so you can repair it, then you’ll be on your way.”

We got a ride back to Aleph Tav from some kind construction workers who were working on the marina docks. With icicles dripping from their eyelashes, they held their small boat next to ours and helped us climb aboard.

After some great tight hugs and kisses, I received a text from Captain Raymond encouraging us to salvage Navi if at all possible.  I didn’t see how it was possible, never the less, I was willing to try.  It had to be done before the ice became even thicker. And I had no idea how Navi would stay afloat once we pulled her out into deep water.

We motored slowly as Aleph Tav would rise then settle as she broke through the ice.  We headed toward the shallow shore with a two hour high tide window to perform the rescue.  We went until the ice was too thick to continue.  Novi was now completely embedded in solid ice.  A couple of rangers strongly deterred us from the operation due to the unsafe conditions, but I confidently assured them we knew what we were doing, so they stood aside and watched.

With about 400 feet of one inch thick line tied to Navi and our back cleats , I thrust Aleph Tav full throttle.  The rope ran and ran until it lifted clear up out of the weather and ice.  Twenty thousand pounds of brute thrust came to a full stop as the rope stretched to its full capacity.  I backed up and got a huge running start, but the result was the same.  The ice would not release it’s grasp on Navi.  A small crowed endured the cold to witness this event.  I backed up even further, and again thrust all of Aleph Tav’s massive weight forward.  After repeated attempts, success!!! Navi began to move very slowly.  Each thrust brought Navi through the thick ice three to four feet.

Still we had no idea what would happen once Navi broke through the ice completely.  About two hours later, just at the end of our high tide window, Navi broke through the last sheet of ice… And…stayed afloat!!!! The audience of on lookers who had gathered on the shore cheered, waving their fists, clapping, hollering, and giving us thumbs up. Navi couldn’t have made it on her own,  but Aleph Tav did.

Interesting… on the other side of Hell Gate, at Great Kills, we found hope, and even strangers cheered to see Navi’s salvation…

Just before Shabbat, we brought Navi to the place where the marina manager said he would lift her out of the water for us. Mission accomplished… And off we all walked looking for a place to have a special Shabbat meal.

My GPS lead us to a nursing home.  One of the workers there was adamant about sending us to some deli.  “It’s a pork deli, you’ll love it!'”  I smiled and went in the opposite direction.

“Dad,” insisted Andre, “bourbon steak at Applebee’s!!! …”

As we walked, we passed by a Russian synagogue that was opened for erev Shabbat.  Were we about to have another interesting addition to this story?… Lisa and I looked at one another for a brief moment as we stood in front of the synagogue then said in one accord: “Applebee’s!!”

To be continued

“Ok Dad, I REALLY need to get these laptops charged! I’m not gonna make it!”  said a very restless … well, we will just have to void out any names to protect the “innocent”.

“I’m not getting on Navi, and separating myself from this boat…” I said firmly. (Navi is our 007-looking high performance dinghy)

“Yah Dad, we need some Sriracha sauce, I have money!” Added another unnamed voice.

“Look…” I clarified, “Navi has a new motor that has not yet been tuned, even if I get it to run, it may cut out and then we will have no way of getting back on this boat!”

“But we don’t have any Sriracha sauce!…” Insisted  the Sriracha voice.

“Oh honey, we also need sandwich bags and eggs… Oh! and chili, yummy…”

“Oh yay, can I come???”  requested yet another little voice.

“NO!!!!!” responded all the other voices in one accord…

“You are way to little to come!!!”  I explained…

…and there you have it, just like that; if you’re a parent you know exactly what I’m talking about…

There I was, an hour later with my Sriracha and Laptop sons in the Novi shaking my head and complaining, “This is a bad idea!…”

Sriracha and Laptop just sat there as an eager audience, happy to know that one way or another, at some point we would be in Sriracha and laptop land.

The motor ran with a fragile sputter after I fiddled with it for fifteen minutes.  I held onto Aleph Tav’s railing with my hand as Navi sputtered.  “This is such bad idea!…” I complained…

“Don’t we have paddles in here anyway…?” asked Laptop.

“Are you serious… This thing is over two thousand pounds… Oars are not going to move it!!!” I exclaimed.

Then it happened… In slow motion, with a sad violin playing in an imaginary background, my hand opened up as Aleph Tav’s railing gently left my finger tips…

I turned around to sit behind the steering wheel, took a deep breath, and gently began increasing the throttle…  Navi’s bow slowly began to rise as the prop thrust the boat forward for about five minutes.  Then all stopped.  I tried restarting the motor, but nothing.  After some fifteen to twenty minutes of frustration, and me blaming every one in the universe for what just happened, we found a can of starting fluid.  Laptop laying on his belly stretched out ready to spray the carburetor as Sriracha imagined all the tasty meals he was about to eat…

I cranked the motor over for a while, then BOOM-ffffsh-WAP… Fire exploded out of the carburetor, a can of starter fluid flipped in circles above my head, Laptop scrambled like a giraffe on an ice ring, trying to leap into the ocean, and Sriracha exclaimed, “what the heck?…”

I lunged at the carburetor to suffocate the fire, and began wondering why the heck I was getting rained on… With my hands over the carburetor I looked to the side… It was Laptop heaving water in every direction trying to put out the fire.

“NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!…” I yelled along with a few other words that my iPad’s spell check does not recognize.

When the excitement finally subsided, there we were drifting toward a rocky shore.

“Where are the paddles?…” asked Laptop as he searched the storage compartments.  We paddled for almost an hour with no success until finally Navi got hung up on sand near a rocky shore.

With about ten feet of water between us and the shore, we all sat there pondering what to do next.  I decided to jump into the water and run as fast as I could to dry ground.  The water was so cold, it turned my pants into ice, keeping it from going down into my boots.  Laptop and Sriracha looked on with amazement as I tried to pull the boat closer.  Although my feet were perfectly warm and dry, I went ahead and let them think their Dad was Superman.

“Your gonna have to climb on my back, and I’ll carry you to shore.”  I said  as I neared the boat with the water up to my (perfectly dry) knees.

Sriracha promptly held on for dear life, while I waddled to shore with him on my back.    Laptop shook his head;  “Frig that… I am NOT going on no sissy piggyback ride!” He scoffed.  He took a couple steps back, then a couple of steps forward to reassess…  He went further back to get a longer running start and there he stood; his long hair flailing violently to and fro in the direction of the shifting wind.  Then he walked back to the front of the boat; “Frig that… I’ll take the sissy piggyback ride…”

After a long walk along the shore we passed a sailboat  laying on her side against the rocks.  The wind cut past our ears like a frozen knife.  Finally after a very long and cold walk; civilization…  We walked down a long street and began to smell food.    It was at little Japanese restaurant…

“Wooha Dad… I bet they have Sriracha…!” said Laptop…

We enjoyed a heavenly meal prepared by a Japanese chef who put together an amazing sushi creation for us.  It was wonderfully  warm and cozy there, but soon we would be back in the street, looking for a fuel can to bypass the filters on Navi hoping to restart the motor and return “home”…

After several hours, and many bus rides where for some unexplained reason none of the drivers charged us for the ride, there we were walking with all our provisions through the woods, back to Navi.  The wind had increased to 45 knots and the temperature dropped to 10 degrees.

When we finally got back to Navi, my heart sank…  The tide had risen, and the boat was now against the rocks side ways, being slammed by frozen waves.  Laptop and I quickly got in the boat while Sriracha found shelter in a nearby port-a-john.  We tried desperately to bail Navi, but soon realized it was useless.  Large waves not only were swamping it, but froze seconds after…  It was no use.  With numb hands we climbed the frozen jagged rocks to huddle all together in the toilet house…

Laptop adamantly insisted on going back out to save Novi as Sriracha wrapped wads of toilet paper around his ankles and wrists to keep warm.

Some times you have to come to the end of yourself to find a place to stand firm.  And that is what I did.  No blaming, no discussing, no wavering. I made a difficult but firm decision.  We had to leave Navi helpless on the shore and find a place to rest for the night.

Covering our ears as we leaned into the wind, we headed back to the woods toward a busy road.  A seagull overwhelmed by the cold wind laid dead on its side.

Way out there, in that dark, cold, and windy night, my beloved Lisa comforted little Noah inside Aleph Tav, as the boat spun like a weather vane around a mooring…

To be continued

We motored away from a breath taking Mount Sinai just before dawn.  The sea was perfectly calm as Rabbi Rich waved us off with tears in his eyes.  That frightening narrow passage way was now beautiful and peaceful to navigate.  The sun still below the horizon, lit up the sky and I was reminded of that warm promise: “…joy comes in the morning.”

Yet, I took a deep breath; one of the things we all learned clearly on this journey was that no matter how heavenly any one moment may be, the very next moment is hell…  Or… Was it the other way around; No matter how hellish any one moment may be, the very next moment is heaven?…

I would like to have chosen the latter, but still, I took a deep breath as I pondered what would lie ahead of us on THIS day.  Why was this day particularly unsettling?… On This leg of the journey, Aleph Tav would be traveling right through  “Hell Gate” in the center of New York City…

The previous evening, we spent hours researching what was the best way to navigate this passage with little success.  None of the explanations made much sense and even seemed contradictory.  The one thing all the articles had in common is that Hell Gate can be so treacherous, even the most experienced Captains of strong tug boats, will sit on a dock awaiting the proper tide current to navigate through it.

As we approached Throgs Neck, the entrance to the east river wherein is Hell Gate, we saw a tugboat waiting on the side.

“…Captain of the tug boat, this is Aleph Tav, requesting assistance on the best time to enter the east river for safe passage through Hell Gate… Over?…”

I called numerous times with no response…  Decisions… decisions… decisions…

Some times it is better to deal with a decision that is made for you, and that is exactly what happened.  As I waited for a response that never came, a very strong current made the decision for us… We were pulled into the East River.  I watched our knots steadily increase as we got sucked in the strongest current I have ever seen…  We went from 4.5 to 7.5 knots in about a minute.  There were large spinning whirl pools all around us.  At times we were traveling at 10.5 knots sideways?!…  The city flew past us as a romantic couple waved.  I kept asking any one on the boat to let me know when we were crossing Hell Gate, but every one appeared to be enjoying the New York sky line.

Then, there in the distance, Lady Liberty.  I steered Aleph Tav directly at the Monument, as Lisa recorded the sight on her phone, Andre sang his very own version of “Our Country Tis of thee”, Gabriel harmonized in the back ground, Noah gasped “wohhhh”, and I sounded the shofar.

Somehow, we had passed right though Hell Gate and didn’t even realize it.  Amazing, not only did Hell Gate not prevail, it was one of the simplest, quickest, and most enjoyable legs of our journey.  It in fact helped us travel double the distance we had been sailing on average each day.

Incidentally, for any one who must know, Hell Gate has no effect at slack tide; that’s when the tide turns around… Hmmm… In Hebrew there is a word for turning around: “teshuvah” this word is translated in the Bible as “repentance”…

Fascinating, when this place was named Hell Gate, it was most certainly because of the incredible danger it posed to the people who dared cross it.  Considering boats have been swallowed up by huge whirl pools at this passage way, the name seems very appropriate.  Yet at this very place where many have lost their lives, nature reveals something much more powerful and far deeper then any vessel has ever sank;  Hell Gate has no effect on those who cross it at the time of “teshuvah” (repentance)

…wait just a minute, you may be wondering; by my description of our crossing, we surely did not go through Hell Gate at slack tide!!!

Well, if you are wondering that question, you are very perceptive… Correct, we did not cross Hell Gate anywhere near slack tide when it is safe.  That is why that tug boat was waiting on the side when we were pulled in, and why we were the only boat in the middle of New York City, traveling at 10.5 knots sideways… But then again, what other vessel out here is named Aleph Tav, and carrying a 150 year old handwritten Torah scroll that survived the Holocaust?…

As Lady Liberty dwindled to a tiny glow amidst New York’s fading skyline, we sailed into a well nestled cove in Staten Island to duck away from a two day storm with 40 to 50 knot winds…  What was suppose to have been a couple of days, turned into five, and the ocean we were suppose to travel on turned into a sheet of ice 3 to 4 inches thick around us…

By the way, as soon as the two days of wind passed, the conditions were perfect to continue our journey south.    So… why on earth did we find ourselves five days later, surrounded by ice with a quarter inch thick wall of ice on the inside of our windows???  Oh if I could only find a place to duck away from three restless boys who simply must get to shore and buy an inverter to power their electronics…

To be continued

I came around the corner with a smile to greet these beautiful souls who weathered the storm just to see me.  I was about to hug them when I noticed they had some type of official badge hanging from their neck.

“Are you Rabbi Peter Oliveira?…” They asked.

“Yes?!…” I replied.

“Where are your four and six year old children?…”

“…” I responded.

“We are with the New York department of child care services, here to investigate a report of child endangerment… Can you tell us where your four and six year old children are?…”

“…” I responded.

“Which one is this?…” They pointed at Noah who was shirtless in front of the blazing cole stove playing League of Legends…

I looked at Rich with my mouth semi opened… “Who is this???..”  Rich just ignored me and looked like he was going to kill some one…

“This one!.. Is this one of them???” The officials asked pointing at Noah.

I gathered myself and said:  “I’m really sorry… Can you please explain again?…  This is Noah, my youngest son, he is twelve years old… I don’t have a four or six year old…”

“Where is your boat?…” They asked as they looked at one another as perplexed as I was… “Does your wife know where you and your children are?…”  They continued in a desperate attempt to make sense of the situation.

Lisa peeked around the corner… “Hi… I’m Mom…”

“…and your children are ok?” Asked the lady official.

“Yes, Noah who is 12 is right here, and Gabriel who is 16 went to spend a little more time with his girlfriend in Rhode Island, while we are staying here through the storm, and waiting for a filter for our boat…”

“What kind of boat?…” Asked the man.

“it’s a Columbia 45…” I replied, glad to have an answer that actually made sense.

They looked at one another… “Columbia 45… That’s a yacht…” He explained to his partner.

“Yes it is…” I agreed with a smile.

“OK…” The man exclaimed as if he was about to help us all understand what this was all about; he lifted up a piece of paper and explained:  “We received this emergency report:  ‘A rabbi named Peter Oliveira has taken his four and six year old sons on a boat, intent on bringing a Torah scroll to Haiti for religious purposes.  At this time of year, the Atlantic Ocean is very dangerous; at least one time the father has already fallen over board, nevertheless he is going forward on this trip putting his children in grave danger…”

“Well, I am a rabbi, I do have a Torah Scroll, and I am on a journey with my family to Haiti where we have a little orphanage.  And yes, I am aware that this is not the best time of year to make this journey, but we are making sure we take our time, and travel in the best weather windows as possible… As you can see, here we are in the safety of our friend’s home during this storm.”  I explained.

The lady just shook her head… “At this moment, there is a child being abused somewhere, and we are here instead, in the middle of a snow storm investigating some bogus report made by some one who is either very jealous of what you are doing, or despises what you are doing… This is not a report from someone who is concerned about you or your children….”

One of the officials asked to speak privately with Noah… We agreed… For those of you fuming at the audacity of government officials intruding into our lives, relax…  When it comes to the safety of children, the system is sure not perfect, but its intent is to protect innocent children, and having spent 16 years doing specialized foster care, we are very well acquainted, and have many friends in the department of child care services.

After a brief chat with Noah, where I think the only complaint was the lack of internet on board, they were ready to bring our awkward  visit to a close.

“I just can’t understand…”  I replied.

“Mister Oliveira, you’re a Rabbi… You know how wicked people’s hearts can be…  We need more people like you, have a great life.  Sorry to have disturbed you.  Good night.”

I have been led to share this and many other journeys we have had to Haiti, and I have always done so intending on blessing those who read it, and most of all, to bring glory to G-d.  Today I’m aware of something I never thought of before: there is at least one reader in this audience who has a tormented soul.  And though I have never intended to communicate in this forum with an enemy, how can I pass up this moment…

————————————-
Tormented one

You have sent earthly officials with false information against me, attempting to hinder the work of Israel’s G-d.    I send the spirit of Israel’s G-d with truth and love on your behalf, hoping for the restoration and peace of your soul…
————————————–

Shortly after our shock, we received a call from Hernst, our orphanage director, who has been calling us since we began this journey, to know what he and the children should be praying for.  Lisa explained the attack we just experienced.  The next day, we received this email from Hernst:

———————
“Don’t worry who ever tries to stop you from coming is already lost the battle, Adonai is with you wherever you go. our children are very strong on praying their Lord, we pray God for you every morning every night, we even pray from 8 to midnight for you, and then I even pray during the night. God is the one who created everything,when you are serving him, his protection is right there for you as it says in psalm 91.

we will keep praying for you.

your servant in Christ Hernst.

———-

Next stop?…. Well, due to the nature of our journey, and in light of recent events, we will have to share that information long after we have gone past that “Next stop”, but know the gates of hell will not prevail…

To be continued

“I don’t want that boat on my docks!…”  Yelled an old man from the shore.  I did my best to befriend the man and share our story hoping he would allow us to stay at that extremely important harbor, but it was no use, we had to move.

Why was this harbor so important? well, our one hour visit turned out to be about one week.  On a routine check up, I realized our secondary filter was badly clogged.  We had to wait for a filter housing unit to come in the mail.  During the week, we realized the geographic location of port Jefferson and it’s waves, was damaging the boat.  We had to move Aleph Tav as fast as possible, before the waves and the dock damaged her any further.

Rich came running out of bed to help us.  For two hours, we motored in pitch darkness, looking for a safe harbor.  The waves in the Sound were very high and unpredictable, rocking us in every direction.  On the chart plotter we could see a well protected cove with a very narrow entrance; a simple passage to navigate during the day, but nearly impossible in complete darkness. Rich frantically shone a spotlight in every direction…  We could see nothing… I knew we were several feet from land according to the plotter, but without a visual, it was very difficult to steer and throttle the boat.

Suddenly, right there in front of us, on our port and starboard, about twenty feet apart, sandoons… It was the narrow entrance to a very save harbor.  The only safe harbor for miles…  There again we went on our round-and-round-she-goes docking attempt, till finally I was on the dock having a tug-a-war  with Rich who was pulling as hard as he could.  All of a sudden Aleph Tav started moving very fast toward me as I was almost pulled off the dock.  Lisa, with her teeth showing, pony tale flailing straight up in the air, yanked on that rope… “I-AM-NOT-DRIVING-THIS-THING-IN-CIRCLES-A-GAIN!!!” She growled as the boat quickly came toward the dock at her every syllable…

We were delighted to have found that place.  At this time of the year there is little or no activity on marinas, so I was surprised to see a man telling us we could not stay there.  Making matters worse,  there was a report of a blizzard coming with 50 mile an hour gusts and zero degree temperatures.  Where could we possibly go?…

Frustrated, disappointed, and exhausted, I pondered: “How on earth are we suppose to do this…”  I scanned the small safe harbor wondering where I could bring Aleph Tav with her priceless Torah cargo when I noticed a beautiful sail yacht docked near us… Intrigued to see another boat in the water at this time of the year, I looked to see what the vessel’s name was.  “Mustard Seed”…  I smiled and shook my head…

I remembered the words Angie emailed to us a few days back; Angie is a Haitian lady who comes to our congregation, and has been following this journey with eager excitement.  “G-d never said this journey was going to be easy, but He promised it will be worth it and He will be with you every step of the way…”

As if I was having a pointless argument with myself, I said: “I know!!!! I know!!! Faith… as a mustard seed… You are with us at every step… but I still have no idea where the heck I am going to put Aleph Tav with Your Torah, and now a blizzard is coming!!!!”

A clarification came to me: “It is not ‘heck’, it is Hell… But that is on the next leg of the journey.  Let’s get through today.”

Rich and I began looking for marinas in that harbor hoping some one would receive us. They felt for us, but were concerned that the weight of Aleph Tav would damage their docks in the storm, so they turned us away.

Finally, we could not believe it; a fancy yacht club, of all places not only welcomed us, but placed us at the very end of their docks where they fuel up passing yachts.  They were very kind, and even invited us to join them for their New Years celebration.  Then it dawned on me, the name of this yacht club; “Mount Sinai”

We enjoyed an amazing week of rest with Rich and Diane chauffeuring  us around, while our 22 year old son Andre was going through his own incredible journey from Stein Hatchee, Florida to Long Island in order to join and sail with us the rest of the way.  Let’s just say that he was able to board a plane without a normal boarding pass in the middle of a blizzard when all flights were canceled…

Comfy and cozy, we cuddled in Rich and Diane’s plush couch as the coal cracked in the blazing coal stove.  We were all set for the blizzard that had already started when the door bell rang… Who on earth would be out there at this time of night, in the middle of a blizzard?…

Rich answered the door…  It was some one who came just to see me… I know… I have that effect on people 🙂

Who could it be?…
To be continued

The next day, just before sunrise, Lisa and I were up at the helm motoring away from that broken dock into a sea of glass.  So peaceful… Noah and Gabriel, curled into an nest of pillows sleeping bags and blankets, slept for hours as our Perkins diesel motor purred flawlessly.  It is hard to describe how the same exact place where your life flashes past you in moments of desperation, can suddenly be so incredibly peaceful.

Lisa and I cuddled with a cup of coffee watching the most beautiful sunrise as the autopilot steered Aleph Tav towards Long Island.  The only waves in the sound came from our hull as we glided through the water at a gentle 4.5 knots.

At mid afternoon it became clear we would not be reaching Port Jefferson any time before evening.  Lisa and I decided the night before that we would not be docking or anchoring in the evening from this time forth, so we decided to anchor at Orient Point where we enjoyed a very peaceful evening.

“Get up! Get up! Get up!…” I shouted as I shook a very groggy Gabriel, who has ONE speed regardless of what is happening around him.  By the way, this is not a criticism, just an observation… Gabriel doesn’t move slow, or fast; whether he is waking up or wide awake, whether the world is coming to an end or just beginning, Gabriel moves at one very reliable pace.  Of course this does not help when your anchor drags, placing your boat in the path of an oncoming ferry… It was time for action AGAIN!!!

We pulled up anchor and quickly sailed out into the Long Island Sound heading to Port Jefferson.  We had very strong head winds, and a fast current against us.  After some five hours of going nowhere, we decided to sail across the sound to Connecticut, with very favorable winds.

We entered Old Saybrook Connecticut with the proud elegance of a highly experience crew.  We passed a fancy yacht club and headed toward Old Lyme bridge.

“This is the Captain of Aleph Tav, requesting clearance from the bridge operator to pass… over?…”

“This is the Captain of Aleph Tav, attempting to communicate with the bridge operator, please respond… Over?…”

My debonair  sounding broadcast had no effect… The bridge remained close and the radio was silent.

We circled in front of the closed bridge several times, until I decided to head back to the fancy yatch club we had passed earlier.  Some fifteen minutes later we looked back and the bridge was opened.

So as to have the last word, I got on the radio;  “This is the Captain of Aleph Tav.  I had requested passage under the bridge, but there was no communication so we decided to turn back… Over!…”

“Captain of the ‘Out of Time’,  Will you be returning back this way?”  Came an annoyed response over the radio.

“Aleph Tav!!!” I corrected, “…this is the Captain of ALEPH TAV!!! and NO, we will not be turning back, but thank you just the same.”  I clarified.

“Captain, what’s the name of your vessel???” Asked the bridge operator.

“Aaaa-leph – Taaaav!!!” I pronounced slowly…

“…Captain of the ‘Out of Time’, I did respond to your request, but your radio did not receive the transmission!…” He replied

“Aleph Tav!!!  A-L-E-P-H  T-A-V” I spelled out slowly as Lisa mouthed the letters for me…

“Well Captain, the bridge is now closing… There’s a train coming… over and out…”

I approached the dock of the yacht club perfectly, but a strong wind on our starboard quickly pushed us away from the dock, so I had to motor forward and come back around.  Once again, I approached the dock against the wind.  Gabriel stood on the bow waiting to throw a rope.  I quickly jumped onto the dock and asked Gabriel to throw me the rope.  It was a perfect throw… Well, that is, if I were three feet closer and a little to the left.  The end of the rope landed in the water as Aleph Tav moved away from the dock too far for me to jump back on.  Lisa’s eyes opened very wide.  I began making up air traffic control hand signals from the dock as Lisa circled Aleph Tav back around.  Gabriel performed a perfect rope toss… The rope landed on my head, then slid past my shoulder, and finally through my fingertips as I grabbed hand fists of air.  I reached out to grab the boat railing, as I held  onto a handrail of a boarding ramp next to me.  The boarding ramp flipped over, and it was either go for a swim, or leap like a cat and hang by my armpits onto the boat railing as the ramp went flying off the dock landing on my head.  Once again we circled back, and docked perfectly. A sweet peace came in the evening as we fell asleep.

In the middle of the night, I was startled out of my sleep by a very strange sound;  it was as if hundreds of people were running and scraping their ski boots on the deck.  I peeked out and saw a sea of glass…  The sound grew louder.  I got dressed and went above deck with a spotlight… Something large and strange was moving past us on an outgoing tide…  I looked closer; very large sheets of ice were flowing past us, some crashing and breaking as they scraped Aleph Tav’s side…  “We are so out of time” I thought.

A few hours later we were off.  Once again the ocean looked like glass and we had a wonderful sail right into Port Jefferson were we planed to visit Rabbi Rich and Diane for no longer than an hour… Two at the most… Or so we thought.
To be continued