Hurricane Ike is still fresh in my mind, even though it’s now been over a month since it blew through Texas – and many other states, after it finished up here!  Here’s an account of what it was like in my little cottage in Houston. 

What was it like for you mariners out on the boat or at home with your family?  Please feel free to share your account of Hurricane Ike in a comment here, or in a private

email, or call us at 800-708-1998 at Ministry on the River.

CHAPLAIN PAM’S NOTES ON HURRICANE IKE

Thursday, September 11

The Port of Houston closes at noon Thursday.  I try to buy D batteries at several stores, all gone.  Able to fill MOR car with gas, although the lines are long.  Able to buy a 12-pack of bottled water.  My church cancels its Saturday meetings and Sunday services.  I don’t yet understand why she cancels, but the priest at my church in Houston, who experienced Hurricane Elisha 25 years ago, knows what it will be like here. 

Friday, September 12 

12 Noon – skies begin to cloud over.  Weather already turning for the worse.  Winds are already picking up.  There are reports and video on the news of water coming inland from the gulf, flowing UP the bayous and flooding some areas already.

6:30 pm – The winds begin to pick up to about 30 or 40 mph, and it gets very overcast. Winds increase gradually more and more.  I wonder what it will be like to have these winds double in strength; they are so strong now.

In the evening, I get a call from one of the vessels docked in the channel, asking for prayers for them during the storm.  I had paid a visit this boat a few weeks earlier, and remember clearly our conversation  about their being in Hurricane Gustav and what it has been like for them to ride out past hurricanes, too. 

I watch the TV news non-stop on Friday evening, seeing Ike’s path coming directly towards Houston via the hapless Galveston Island.

Saturday, September 13

Sat 12:30 am – Full force hurricane winds begin.  I watch the radar image on TV and see that the eyewall of the storm looks like it will be passing right over Houston including the area I am in.  The eye itself will be somewhere else, so we won’t get that nice quiet calm time the eye brings with it.

Winds of maybe 100 or 110 mph pummel my small house for the next 6 hours, the driving rain accompanying them off and on.  I am awake the entire six hours, in case any trees were to fall on or near the house I want to keep an eye out, and also because it would be impossible to sleep during the sound of these noisy winds anyway. News on the radio says that Houston is being hit harder than expected.  Ike is so large that everyone is being hit harder than normal for a hurricane.  Many times the winds shake the entire house and I hear things hitting its sides or roof.  I wonder if the roof will blow off.

2:15 am – the electricity goes out (it stays out for the next 60 hours).  I turn on my battery powered radio which, thankfully, still has C batteries two years old, that still work.  Reports on the radio say that streets are already beginning to flood near bayous from the storm surge already the gulf and washing water up the intracoastal waterways and canals.

Saturday, September 13

7:30 am– I finally get some sleep, even though the noise of the winds and the rain is still strong.  The house is still here.  There seems to be minor damage to the edge of the roof, but it shouldn’t leak during rains.  A few shingles blew off.  The banana trees in the front yard have been bent like paper straws.  

My inconveniences – no electricity, boiled water advisory, mandatory curfew for the next week – seem trivial compared to reports of Galveston residents who have lost everything.  My heart goes out to them as I remember them for the coming days.  I think about the mariners who rode through the storm in their boats and pray that they are all ok and not as shaken up as I am from riding out the wind and rain.

 Galveston Sept 13, 2008 - photo courtesy nationalgeographic.com

Posted: October 24th, 2008 under Pam's Posts, Towboaters.
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Hurricane Gustav made its way through southern Louisiana last week, hitting hard the communities I visit often as part of our ministry: Houma, Morgan City, Baton Rouge, Lafayette, New Orleans and surrounding areas.  Many communities were still without power as of a few days ago, and some suffered damage to their facilities. 

So far, all the employees and towboat fleets from the companies we serve have made it through safely, though. 

We continue to keep the entire Gulf region in our prayers at Ministry on the River, as we ride through the hurricane season together.  May you know that God watches over you at all times, and may you continue to be safe through this time and always.

- Chaplain Pam

Photos courtesy of www.myfoxphilly.com

Posted: September 8th, 2008 under Churches and Groups, Pam's Posts, Towboaters.
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This week I had the pleasure of gathering with crewmembers, their families, and other well-wishers to bless a new boat in the Channelview area.  Boat blessings are much more low-key than the more “official” christening of a new boat; yet there were at least fifty or sixty people present for this “small” event.

Driving from the SCI office at the Port of Houston to Channelview, Texas, the rain poured down unrelentingly, moisture from the fringes of Hurricane Dolly wreaking more havoc further south of us.  Roads and highways were full of standing — and rushing — water.  Dark clouds hovered over us, punctuated occasionally by the flash of lightning.

Arriving at the boat company, I found the rain to be lessening a bit.  By the time we were ready to begin saying our prayers for the boat, the crew and their families, the rain had stopped.  It was time to begin.

Because there were so many in attendance, we said our prayers outside next to the boat’s bow tied up behind us, under a canopy.  I lighted a candle, expecting it to blow out quickly, but instead it blew out by itself at the end of the service at its appointed time to extinguish.  During the service, the captain held the candle, and the pilot read this passage from Paul’s letter to the Colossians:

You are God’s chosen race, his saints; He loves you, and you should be clothed in sincere compassion, in kindness and humility, gentleness and patience.

Bear with one another; forgive each other as soon as a quarrel begins. The Lord has forgiven you; now you must do the same.

Over all these clothes, to keep them together and complete them, put on love.

And may the peace of Christ reign in your hearts, because it is for this that you were called together as parts of one body. Always be thankful.

Let the message of Christ, in all its richness, find a home with you. Teach each other, and advise each other, in all wisdom. With gratitude in your hearts sing psalms and hymns and inspired songs to God;

And never say or do anything except in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.

At the very moment we finished the brief service and said “Amen” in unison, a towboat horn sounded!  What a fitting conclusion! 

After the blessing, we all met to have refreshments and share fellowship.  It was a wonderful morning and a blessing to have a little break in the rain.

- Chaplain Pam

Posted: July 31st, 2008 under Pam's Posts, Towboaters.
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The stories below are true.  Only the names have been changed to protect the innocent (or is it the “guilty?” … guilty of not calling MOR when you really needed to?)

Joe (not his real name) sits alone on the edge of his bunk on board the m/v Anonymous. He thinks sadly how his five-year old daughter will be starting kindergarten tomorrow and how excited she was on the phone about it earlier this evening. Then she said, “Daddy, can you come and see me get on the bus tomorrow?” He took a deep breath and tried to keep his voice from choking as he told her, “Sweetheart, Daddy has to work on the boat. Your mommy will take pictures and send them to me. You have a good first day of school!” His daughter said reluctantly, “Ok,” and then, “I miss you, Daddy!” Joe sighs as he recalls this conversation, and can still hear his daughter’s words echoing in his ears.  Joe pulls the small photo album from his dresser drawer, the one with the number 800-708-1998 printed on the front, and thumbs through it, looking at photos of his daughter.

Meanwhile, a river chaplain looks at her phone and thinks how strangely silent the MOR 800-708-1998 number has been the past few days. “I guess all the mariners are doing fine and don’t need to talk to a chaplain.” She continues writing a blog entry at the desk in her office.

The next morning, somewhere in the Gulf Intracoastal Waterway, Brent (not his real name) boards the m/v Noname to begin his 28-day shift. A few hours earlier, he had to say goodbye to his new girlfriend, who he met on the second day of his ten days off. He thinks, “She might be the one!” Now he is starting back on the boat and remembers how hard it was, trying to explain why he wouldn’t be able to see her again for a month. Brent feels torn between the river and his girlfriend; he loves working on the waterways, but he misses her already, and he wishes there were someone for her to talk to while he’s away. If only there were someone who could explain a little more to her about what his work is like and why he can’t take more time off or call her when he’s on watch.  Brent takes out the navy blue bandanna from his pocket, the one with the Ministry on the River number printed on it, and mops his brow as he secures a line.

Meanwhile, on the road, a river chaplain looks at his phone to see if any calls came through while he’s been driving. Nothing shows up on the phone. He puts it back in his pocket and keeps driving to the next river town to look for boats to visit.

That same afternoon, in a town in Southern Louisiana, Missy (not her real name), the wife of a river pilot, has just gotten a call from her sister that their dad has been diagnosed with cancer and that he’s in the hospital. She tries to call Mitch (not his real name), her husband, on the boat to talk to him, but the call doesn’t connect. She tries a few times, and then gives up. Both her sister and their dad live in another town out of state. Missy wants to travel there to see her dad, but she needs to talk to Mitch first about leaving their home and making travel arrangements. Mitch is due home in a few days. She wishes there were someone she could talk to who could listen and maybe make some suggestions, because she isn’t thinking too clearly right now.  She happens to glance at the refrigerator where, among the recent photos of her, her dad and her sister, is a magnet with the number 800-708-1998 printed on it.

Do any of these scenarios sound familiar? It seems that every time I visit a boat, I hear stories similar to these about what’s going on in your life and the lives of your family members. I’ve been giving out my business card like crazy, mainly because on it is our 800-708-1998 number. Ministry on the River is here for emergencies, but we are also here for you to talk to at other times.

Maybe you don’t consider the events in your life to be a crisis situation. We are certainly here for crises, but we are here for “minor crises” too. I would love to hear about, or see, the photos you have of your 5-year-old going off on her first day of school; to talk with you about some of the events going on in your life or your family’s daily life. We are here to talk with you, your spouses, significant others, and family members any time.

That number again is …

800-708-1998

Posted: July 23rd, 2008 under Pam's Posts, Towboaters.
Comments: none

Click to see a larger version of the flyer. Right-cllick and choose “Save target as…” to save a copy on your computer

Cincinnati, OH - Thursday, September 11, 2008 at Christ Church Cathedral
10 am - 1 pm

St Louis, MO - Wednesday, October 29, 2008 at St Peter’s Episcopal Church
9 am - 12 noon

Metairie, LA - Friday, November 7, 2008 at St Augustine’s Episcopal church
10 am - 1 pm

Learn about the history of Seamen’s Church Institute and the services SCI provides for mariners; hear about Ministry on the River, the towboat industry, the mariners we serve, and our special programs like Christmas on the River and Pass-it On videos and books.  And most importantly, find out how you and your parish can help us minister to mariners in your area, by donating candy and other items on our “wish list,” packing Christmas and Easter boxes, and helping us distribute the boxes to towboat companies in your neighborhood.

Please call Ministry on the River at 800-708-1998 to reserve a place at one of the workshops, or for more information.  We look forward to seeing YOU there!

- the MOR team (Ann, Jim+ and Pam)

Posted: July 16th, 2008 under Ann's Posts, Churches and Groups, Jim's Posts, Pam's Posts.
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Posted: June 19th, 2008 under Pam's Posts, Towboaters.
Comments: none

Posted: June 13th, 2008 under Pam's Posts, Towboaters.
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Recently I’ve had a chance to do something new in my river ministry: to bless boats, the way we sometimes have our houses blessed.  The boat blessing is not the same as a christening.  It’s fairly informal.  Prayers are said for the living and working quarters of the boat; a Scripture passage is read; and a candle is lighted and passed around the circle of crewmembers and others present, giving everyone the chance for silent or verbal personal prayers for the crew and boat.

The reasons for each of these boat blessings have been varied, but the aim is the same: to acknowledge God’s presence and unfailing love in our lives, wherever we live and work.  If a boat has not had a chance to be christened, due to the incredibly busy work schedule for towboats, a blessing is a way to provide the same kind of spiritual care for a boat that a christening provides, in a less formal setting.

– Chaplain Pam

Posted: May 22nd, 2008 under Pam's Posts, Towboaters.
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