It has been reduced to a mere footnote. Somewhere on the back pages of today’s news, hidden between small notices to fill the page is a small heading that you may miss if you do not look for it. Even when you read the notice, the information no longer shocks you. It is common. New news and new suffering appear in bold letters on the front page.
But, it is not so for the officer that sits in front of Danie in the Port Elizabeth harbour. The destruction remains as real as the first day. He talks without emotion. His eyes are cold and hard when the words are spoken. The words are about death, destruction and pain. The war in the Ukraine is far removed from Coega, thousands of kilometres away, but it pressed the last bit of life and hope from him and left his heart cold. As the words tumble from his mouth, we see the same picture that we at the CSO see every day on our visits to the ships. The house where he grew up is a pile of rubble. Children died. People walking to work, paying the highest price - a missile from Russia. It is different when you read about it on the back pages. It is far from sight and so, far from the heart. It is radical when you hear this man naming names of those whose lives were stolen. Friends, family, acquaintances - dead.
Danie feels that mere listening cannot be enough. When the man’s words dry up, Danie does not try to cover the wound with a little plaster. He also does not try to make it better by saying a few nice words and sharing wisdom to brighten up his day. No, he asks if the man would mind if he prays for him. From the Bible he tells them about those that suffered too and how they eventually found God in the most unexpected places while they were suffering.
Much later, as Danie prepares to leave, a rare smile appears. ‘Thank you for what you did for me today’, the man says, now very emotionally. He also takes a Bible and asks Danie if he would mind very much to continue praying for him.
As Danie walks away, a few thoughts remain. The first is, how we can never become used to pain and suffering in this world and to reduce it to the back pages of newspapers. The second is, that we should have a deep awareness that we are not powerless. The Man of the Cross gave us all hope, mercy and love to share. Simply listening often brings hope. The third is, to know that we at the CSO are privileged to have donors that make it possible to support the men working at sea each day with the love of the Man of the Cross. Won’t you consider it, also in prayer, to support us financially? The needs are real.
PS. Here is the link for the debit order: https://bit.ly/43khwDO Please fill in and email back to This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.. Our bank details are: Christelike Seemansorganisasie. ABSA. Current. 1520-230-226. Use your donor code as a reference. We keep praying for each other.
We are very grateful to the Lord that many of you responded positively to our plea regarding the signing of debit orders, the creation of recurring payments on your bank profile and regular EFTs. Especially when we bear in mind that we lost contact with more than half of our donors due to the postal system collapsing. It goes a long way in ensuring our missionaries are taken care of and that they have all the resources they need.
If you're still wondering about your donation, read our latest story - fresh from the port and see what a difference your donation makes!
Life at sea means a life of waiting, explains Mavin. You wait for the days to pass before you can go home. You wait for permission to enter a harbour. You wait for a permit to set foot on solid ground next to the ship for an hour or two. You wait to hold your daughter again after not seeing her for nine months. You wait for a call from your wife when you have a mobile signal for a moment or two while being anchored in a harbour. And sometimes, sometimes you wait for God too.
Not knowing that this is a pretext, Danie drives toward the enormous blue and white car ship. Through the windscreen he can see, clearly, all the signs that this ship is about to depart. The chances of getting permission from the Captain to board the ship so shortly before departure is like hoping to get a camel through the eye of a needle. At the last moment he decides to risk parking the car in the parking space and run up the steps to the deck of the ship. At the top, his concerns were confirmed. The man on duty at the access control point is just as sceptical and is just as surprised to hear the voice of the Captain from the Ukraine, crackling that Danie could pay a blitz visit. The radio crackles a second time, informing all aboard of the visit of a man of ‘the mission’.
The message scarcely finished, before a man comes running. He introduces himself as ‘Mavin’. Life of a man working at sea is a life of waiting, he explains. With a big smile, looking as if he is about to hug Danie at any moment, Mavin continues, saying that he had been waiting for Danie’s visit. Mavin’s story is remarkable. Years ago he struggled through a huge crisis, but Mavin explains, the huge crisis is not the heart of the matter. What is important, is how God provided and helped him through the crisis. After that, he promised that he would remind his fellow crew members on each ship that God is true. On the ship that Danie visits, Mavin could start a Bible study group and they have seven members now. Mavin is the only one with a Bible and each Bible study group meeting is concluded with a prayer, ‘Please God, send Bibles to our ship. Amen’. Mavin’s request is simple - If Danie has, perhaps, just one more Bible for him...
It becomes a race against time. The 90 minutes allowed has run up to 70 minutes. From his backpack Danie immediately provides two English and two Tagalog Bibles. Marvin has no words. Their prayers have been answered!
But, Danie can do better. Sprinting he leaves the ship, runs to the car and returns to the office. In the office he replenishes his stock, locks the office, gets back in the car and starts the return opposite trip. With only seconds to spare, Danie runs up the steps to access control again. There he finds a Bible study group, seven-strong, waiting. From his backpack he can fill the empty hands with Bibles. Each receives an own Bible. The moment is holy. It is an answered prayer. It is an answer to the waiting...
They thank you with big, big smiles. Donations received brings the Gospel to those that wait in prayer each day.
We are not out of the woods yet. But we are making progress! If you haven't considered it yet - click here to download the debit order form. Please fill in and email back to This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it..
Our bank details are: Christelike Seemansorganisasie. ABSA. Current. 1520-230-226. Use your donor code as a reference.
We keep praying for each other.
He is an orphan of this world - one of the forgotten. His ship is being moved today, to a part of the harbour where it will disintegrate in rust. He has no say in the matter. This is the thing about being forgotten. Your voice is swallowed by the wind.
For the people in the harbour, it is possibly a matter of being out of sight, out of mind. The ship that has caused headaches in the Durban harbour for months, has a crew consisting of a single Indian man. On board there is no food, water, bathroom facilities or electricity. It is often so for the forgotten...Only last week Chris met with the Who’s Who of the harbour. These people enthusiastically promised wonderful things, but on Chris’ return to plead the man’s case, he walks into a wall of empty niceties. Suddenly all are too busy to answer his calls and his e-mails disappear into the ether net. It is often so for the forgotten. Those with power to effect change have more important things to do.
Now and then the ship’s agent arrives with a few scraps of food. Typically it is not enough and there is no indication of how long the scraps should last or when the ‘kind’ owner will send more alms. Chris is also there when the agent appears for her latest visit. She declares, proudly, that the owner made available R800 for food. She unpacks the food on the quay. Chris estimates that it is worth, at most, about R300 and that her ‘commission’ must be about R500. It is often so with the forgotten - that they are swindled out of the little that they do have.
There is no gangway between the ship and quay, only a doubtful rope that will allow you - if you want to risk your life - to move from ship to quay. Her good deed done, the agent leaves and Chris helps to tie the small quantity of food to a rope, allowing the seaman to hoist the food on board the ship. It has been several months and it will last several more. Yet, daily there is no one to continue the fight. The forgotten will be forgotten more each day. That is why Chris is there - to remind all and to give a voice to the seaman. He will provide food and water when the alms stop coming and the agent fails to arrive. He will give the man a chance to phone home. Chris will do this every day, until that day when his help is no longer needed.
This is what we, at the CSO, do. We are - where possible - the voices of the forgotten. But, more than that, we are also there to remind the forgotten that the Word is true and so is God who sees everyone. He will never forget. Your donation will help us continue to help the forgotten that cross our paths and care for them in the Name above all names.
To give a monthly donation through debit order, click here to download the debit order form. Email the completed form back to us at This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it..
Click here for the different methods you can use to support us.
Thanks for the opportunity to connect. We appreciate your time. As its getting more and more difficult to connect with our donors via the post office, we are trying our utmost to connect by other means which include email, sms and social media. Please take a moment to read our plea.
We are all busy in this crazy rush of life and don't always get around to things we would like to do or support. We have now heard this from quite a few donors.
To make it easier for you: Would you please consider signing a debit order. We do ALL the administration at our office and can make any changes with an email or Whatsapp or phone call from you. The options of monthly, quarterly, every six months or annually are at your disposal. You can also choose the day of the month.
The big advantage is, you don't have to go to the bank for it at all!
Please consider this prayerfully. Click here to download the debit order form. Please fill it in and email it back to us and we'll do the rest! Our email address: This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.
A big thank you from every seafarer we come into contact with.
PS. If you already give on a regular basis - thank you very much. We really appreciate it and we know you realise its importance!
The TRINAD ADENDORFF is caged in at Gqeberha. Caged, anchored, on hold, if you want to play word games. Unfortunately, it is everything but that. Here, on land, life is almost, not completely, but almost back to normal. We can return to restaurants, walk in the streets, everyone free from them being caged in.
At sea it is different. They are still being caged in. Their only pleasure is the versatility of the cook. Unfortunately the cook is not what lured you to the sea in the first place. The lure was promises to see the world and earning trunks of money. For others the lure was simpler without much choice. They had to choose the sea to survive.
Today Danie is visiting the TRINAD. On deck is a seaman, almost an acquaintance. He is also South African. He is tired and exhausted. He feels a little overwhelmed by the world's disasters and suffering. If only he could feel the solid ground of Africa under his feet. Unfortunately, he is being caged in. He is in a cage at the docks. Solid ground is a mirage. It is an emotional reminder of being caged in. He tells of their visit to Durban. His family was desperate to see him. From behind a wire fence they tried to make eye contact for a split second. They wanted to make sure their son is still alive. It is to no avail. The situation is eating and tearing at his soul.
That is why there is suffering today, even though it has become an old friend. But, today Danie is there. The familiarity of his own language brings an unexpected blessing to the seaman. Their discussion, also brings a reminder of the Great Poet, the One that is present in the ebb and flow of the sea's perpetual movement.
That is where he finds a little comfort and rest. It is an antidote for the longing. Together they can pray:
The Lord is my Shepherd,
I shall not want,
He leads me to still waters ...
And there, caged in at the dock, the seaman finds a moment's rest in Him that gives peace and rest that transcends all else.
That is what our donors have done for the young South African. He could repose for a moment in the green pastures. For that we are so immensely grateful.