The first time I saw them standing in front of me, I thought that they are only children! They are dressed in similar clothes - a pair of jeans and jacket they received as gifts. The sneakers are from Mr Price and the checked shirts are a few sizes too big. The clothes are their only possessions in this world.  They are seventeen, eighteen, perhaps twenty years old. They are in a foreign country and only one in the group speak English. They are without words, down-hearted and disillusioned, standing in the small chapel where they pay homage to their eleven friends that did not survive.

The first time I saw them standing in front of me, I thought that they are only children! They are dressed in similar clothes - a pair of jeans and jacket they received as gifts. The sneakers are from Mr Price and the checked shirts are a few sizes too big. The clothes are their only possessions in this world.  They are seventeen, eighteen, perhaps twenty years old. They are in a foreign country and only one in the group speak English. They are without words, down-hearted and disillusioned, standing in the small chapel where they pay homage to their eleven friends that did not survive.  

It happened only a day or so ago, but for most of them the fright and fear remain fresh in their memories. There was an explosion ... a fire on board ... water that starts rushing into the ship ... confused and fearful screams that broke the silence on the deep seas ... a decision about what to do next ... it is a moment, a split second that could change your life irrevocably. They were a thousand kilometres from the nearest shore, but they jumped into the sea in the dark, dark night. They had to jump into the ominous black water, the only light provided by the stars. Those that decide not to jump, disappear into the deep waters, as the ship is sucked into its ocean grave.

They were drifting between continents. For a moment they think about it, but luckily another ship arrives to pick up those that could keep their heads above water. The survivors were taken to Cape Town where they arrived penniless, with only the skimpy clothes they were wearing during the incident. No one waits for them on the quay ... That would have been true if there were no organisations like the CSO. We were the first and only people waiting for them. We gave each of them something to wear and started arrangements to help them to return to their homes. After the memorial service, they leave, quietly and without expression. Outside, the CSO gives each of them a Bible in their own language, a beanie and scarf as protection against the cold Cape winter. As they receive the gifts, the dreadful story becomes a story of hope ... hope received from a Living Jesus. He brings survival and hope in the darkest hour.

This is what we do at the CSO ... we bring hope to seafaring men and women!