The sun set as we crept slowly past the shores of Galilee.  It was not a spectacular sight, just a peaceful setting of the sun, welcoming a hazy moon.  The gentle sway of the waves rocked the crew to sleep.  I pondered what must have happened at these Rhode Island shores that would cause someone to give it a name after the shores where Messiah once walked. 

  The long stretch of sandy shore vanished, marked only by dim speckled lights and the faint turning glow of a lonely lighthouse in the distance.  It was very cold as I went out on deck from time to time to shine a spotlight into the darkness.  That faithful light house grew slightly brighter as we motored ever so slowly towards the last tip of Rhode Island hoping to find a sheltered place to anchor for the night. 
 
  The previous night we had gotten our towropes caught on the prop and at full throttle, we could only move at 1.8 Knots.  That safe anchoring spot couldn’t come fast enough, I was spent…

  Finally!… we came around the lighthouse and headed toward a well sheltered cove.  Just as we entered the Connecticut shore my heart sank… a deep THUD, and a sudden stop…  I quickly looked at my instruments to make sure I was not seeing things.  No… I hadn’t made a mistake; the instruments said we were in 20 feet deep water, but the reality is, we had hit bottom.  I turned the helm hard and fast to our port and pushed the throttle forward as far as it could go, hoping to free us and head out into deeper waters, as yet another swell lifted us up and dropped us sideways on to shallower waters…  I commanded angels to push us into the deep.  The winds sprayed frigid ocean water across the bow… 

  As I frantically wondered how we were going to get out of that mess, a peaceful question came to me, as if some one much greater then I was reminding me of what got us there in the first place…

It all started some eight years back when we fell in love with a beautiful group of children in Haiti.  They belonged to a little orphanage that was struggling to stay opened, but you would never have known it by the enthusiasm of the children who sang and leapt for joy when we first met.  Over the years, our hearts became laced with theirs and somewhere along the way, they went from being “the children of Haiti” to, “our children in Haiti”.  No longer were they a charity case that we had the luxury  of deciding how much we could afford to help.  Their suffering was our suffering…

I remembered how right after the earthquake, when the island was on shutdown and even the Red Cross was not allowed to enter, yet my beloved Lisa and a small team snuck through the border with money strapped under her clothes to find and care for our children.

  I remembered how our connection with these children opened up a door for us to go minister at a fifteen thousand member congregation, and the thousands who came to bring offerings at our feet because we are descendants of Israel… 

I remembered the miracles of seeing dark clouds open up a curtain of rain over the field of farmers who followed our instructions we gave them according to Torah…

I remembered the man chasing us on a wheel chair; the man I desperately tried to avoid, thinking he wanted to beg for money; how he finally caught up to us and simply wanted to touch our hand because he saw the kippahs on our heads… the look on his face as he raised his eyes to heaven and cried:  ” This is more than ALL the money!!!” 

    I remembered the conversation Lisa and I had when we decided to sell or give all we had, and get on this boat to move to Haiti, in order to be close to the children, and bring our congregation’s Torah scroll to the nation who changed its vote from no to yes, when the nations were deciding whether Israel should be a nation with its land again…

  Then I remembered how peaceful it was when we set sail several days back, and all the friends and family who came to bless us with their hugs, kisses, tears, and prayers…

  It is difficult to explain, but in that desperate moment, thousands of memories came to me in full detail as if time stood still.  There I was alone, in pitch darkness, with an eighteen thousand pound vessel laying on its side awaiting another wave… Lisa was sound asleep and I would not dare wake her up.

  The seriousness of the situation was briefly broken by a cheerful “weeeeeee…” Coming from below.  It was Noah rolling head over heals in the salon as Aleph Tav was tossed to her other side and spun…

  Gabriel burst through the companion way beaming with excitement;  “wooooe Dad… How fast are we going????…” 

“Were not moving at all, were stuck!!!” I responded with an exasperated tone…  There was no relief… I revved the throttle and turned the helm back and forth, but nothing… Just another wave picking us up and bringing us back down with a thud. 

“Is this it?…” I thought, “…Is this how it ends?… another one of those stories where we are left asking G-d why…”

BASH!!!… A large wave slammed the side of Aleph Tav, heaving us up in a half spin, them back down.  But this time, no THUD… the wave heaved us clear over the sandbar we were hung up on, and onto deep waters.  Relieved to be free, I set a course for the closest Connecticut inlet I could find to anchor for the night. 

  Lisa peeked out the companion way hatch with a curious smile: “Hi honey, how’s it going out there?…”  I tried to play it off as if all was well, but my face must have told another story.  Lisa quickly came up to assist.  The winds coming from Connecticut were so strong, we could not turn the vessel into a safe harbor.    It was as if an invisible force grabbed the front of the boat and pushed us out to sea… 

    I noticed a small portion of our genoa was out, so Lisa stared, as I made my way to the front to furl the roller ferruling in by hand.    The waves lifted and lowered our bow so violently, I had to wrap my legs on some line so as to not be thrown off… I thought for a moment about the fishermen from the reality tv show The Deadliest Catch, and I figured: “If they can survive this, when their mission is to harvest unkosher crabs for food, certainly we can survive seeing our mission is to bring the Torah, the perfect kosher food to a nation…”  Sure enough, after about an hour of fighting, we were able to turn the vessel into the wind and enter a safe cove in Connecticut to anchor for the night.  With the anchor dropped and set, I took a deep breath…  “THANK YOU G-D!…”

  As I went below, I sensed G-d had a word concerning the state of Connecticut so I began looking for my iPad to write.    For some unexplainable reason, I left the comfort of our well heated salon, and went back above deck… “Oh my G-d!!!  “Oh my G-d!!!  “Oh my G-d!!!”  I cried out, not as one who uses G-d’s name carelessly, but one who desperately needs G-d to do something FAST… 
To be continued