… There are very few situations that would cause me to say “oh my G-d” repeatedly.   Perhaps what we had just gone through took everything out of me and crying out To G-d is all a had left.   The anchor had come free and we were drifting backwards in a strong current, with 50 mph gusts, towards several large fishing vessels docked behind us.  We could not start the motor because all the toe  lines had drifted beneath the back of the boat joining themselves to the already knotted mess around the prop.

 Aleph Tav drifted fast by the end of a very old broken dock… I leaped off the boat with a dock line, and quickly wrapped it around a bent post that barely held the dock at it’s jagged end.   The thick line creaked as it brought the vessel to a stop.   I ran around looking for something to protect the side of the boat.   This old dock was constructed with thick styrofoam, overlaid with wire rods and cement.  There were two feet gaps where it had broken and was barely held by a few remaining rusty mettle rods.   These rods stuck out where Aleph Tav was now secure, and unprotected, the hull would be cut open… I found four used up bald tires and several tossed out boat bumpers.   As I made a protective barrier, G-d impressed the following words in my heart:

 “My people have become very shallow; they hold on to inaccurate information, convinced their foundation is deep and secure.   They have no solid ground, no Rock to stand on, or to hold them firm… The few remaining servants among them have been mistreated, ignored,  disregarded, broken, abandoned, washed up, and even deemed unfit… Because they were treated this way, I have made them unapproachable in their brokenness.   Getting near them will be difficult and even be painful.  Yet, those who push through the pain and reconnect to them, will realize these broken servants are the last hope they will have to survive the storm… My servants have been moved in every direction, bashed  and broken, they have lost everything except the One thing that can’t be lost and will not be moved… For this reason, “They” will not be lost, and will not be moved, no matter the storm.”

 Although this word can be applicable to every one, I strongly felt this word was specifically directed to the state of Connecticut.

 After about an hour of creating a makeshift barrier to protect the hull, I joined my family inside a very cozy Aleph Tav and fell asleep. 

 As the sun peaked over the horizon, I was up and ready to take on the challenges for the day; at least the challenges I was aware of.   I needed to remove gobs of knotted ropes tangled around the prop, and I needed to find diesel.   I saw a rough looking fisherman with a cigarette butt hanging off the side of his mouth.   He was tossing lobster traps onto the back of a truck.   He glanced briefly at me with one eye squinting as the cigaret smoke rolled up his cheek.   Nothing in his countenance welcomed me to approach him, but having no other choice, I walked in his direction and asked him where I could get diesel.  He annoyingly mentioned some gas station.  

 As I walked away, he exclaimed with an aggravated tone: “what are you, Polish?!… Your gonna walk all the way there?… Get in the frik’n truck!…”

 I jumped in the truck and when I thanked him for the ride he responded:  “Don’t thank me… Walking to the gas station is just stupid…  Where’s your truck?…”

 When I explained it was for the boat and that I was with my family sailing south, he leaned back with a frown and said: “what’s wrong with you?!!.. Who does that at this time of the year???…”   I tried to calm his concerns, but he just shook his head.  The man drove me to the gas station and a variety of other places I needed to run to.  He appeared aggravated about everything, but amazingly refused to stop assisting  me.   

 Going through the dunkin donuts drive-thru he grumbled: “What do you want?…”   I insisted, “let me get this; I’ll get your coffee and I’ll get some coffee for my wife and hot chocolate for my boys…”   Again, he looked at me with a frown… “What the heck is wrong with you man?  Your the one who needs every penny you can get…”      He seemed very down trodden, broken, bitter, and angry.

 While driving back, He began venting: “This life sucks… I don’t know what the point is… My father dies a few months ago, then my younger brother dies a couple of days ago… I got this large inheritance for what… I told God that I would give an offering to some mission; I was thinking about Haiti, but what is the point anyway… Whoever I give it to will just spend it and those kids won’t see a dime…  I don’t know what God is thinking… I don’t even know why I get up in the morning and keep doing this…”

 You would think I would get use to these Divine moments, but I was stunned…   At first I couldn’t even tell him what our destination and mission was, surely he would think I was making it up.   Then I was reminded of that old abandoned dock;  how broken and jagged it was, yet it held us in the lest second.   I also remembered the words that G-d impressed in my heart about broken servants, so I told him: “Well… I can’t say that I understand what G-d is doing either, but I know that He has a plan, and in the end it will all make sense… Like for instance, you want to help a mission in Haiti that won’t squander your gift… Well… I am a rabbi who has spent about eight years caring for children in Haiti, and have sold and gave all I have to move there and care for those children in person.  In fact, that is where we are heading to now, and I can’t thank you enough for your help…”

 That’s frik’n weird…” He responded…   

 We didn’t speak much after that.   As we parted, I left him staring at a card with the bethchesed.org info on it.

 Lisa, Gabriel and I spent the entire day cutting knots and ropes off the prop…  I was able to nestle myself on one of those broken sections of dock with just the right angle to cut away the ropes as Gabriel held on to a frozen pole pulling away strands as I cut away.   

In the middle of the day, we had a sweet time of respite  from our work when Rabbi Brian and Suzi came to visit and encourage us.

 Some 18 hours later, as we finally cut away the last chunk of knots, I came to a hard realization and learned a difficult lesson;  I would cut for about two and a half minutes till exhausted and frustrated I would quit and repositioned the knife to start the process…  With my sleeves waterlogged and my hands frozen, Lisa and Gabriel shivering, holding poles and ropes, we finally got that knotted mess out late in the evening.   At closer examination, I saw countless cuts that almost made it through the rope… Thirty more seconds of perseverance, would have saved a full day’s frustration…

Cuddled in our cozy bed, We went to sleep…   

“Mom!  is there wifi here?…” Asked Noah as we faded…

To be continued 

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