The Bell Buoy

Ask my husband, Jim, about our family excursion to Maine's Monhegan Island and his face will instantly turn pasty white and he will double over clenching his stomach.

We had made this trip before on the Hardy Boat so we thought is would be fun to take our girls to the island that had barely any cars and only about 200 year round residents. Hiking trails ran along the ocean and green, brown and blue sea glass peppered the shore.  A lighthouse was at the peak of the island and with a few summer artisan gift shops. All in all it promised to be a good day.

We grabbed our tickets, sweatshirts, jackets and sensible shoes for climbing on the jagged rocks along the sea coast, ran down the dock and climbed on the boat.  The sky was a bit overcast but as they say in Maine, "if you don't like the weather, wait a minute," so we forged ahead.

The boat loaded with folks "from away" fired up it's engines and slowly left the harbor.  As soon as we cleared the harbor markers the captain revved up the boat's speed and we were on our way.  Jim and the girls went to the upper deck to get the full views.  My aunts and I, choosing the more cautious route, stayed down on the first deck.

As we hit open seas, black clouds rolled in and it began to rain.  The more the rain kicked up more the Hardy Boat began to rock--back and forth, back and forth.  In seconds my "upper deck" family appeared to get out of the rain and to try and get their bearings.  The captain came on over the loud speaker saying, "keep your eyes on the horizon," but the boat was listing so deep and the swells were so high, there was no horizon.  Needless to say our family was lined up along the side of the boat. And Jim's only comment was, "that was a waste of a perfectly good blueberry muffin!"

We spent a miserable day on the island.  The storm did not pass and we knew in a few hours we had to make the return "voyage."  When the time came we walked to the dock and tried to muster up our courage to cross the bouncing gangplank onto the boat.  Finally we sat down and huddled under blankets anticipating the trip back to shore.

Fog, rain, wind, and huge waves were our only focus of what seemed like an endless trip. Fearful thoughts ran through our minds.  Did the captain know how to navigate this weather?  Were we going to make it back safely?  How could the boat's crew possibly tell where we were?

After an excruciating hour of being churned about on the sea, we heard the gentle, calm rocking sound of the harbor buoy.  We were "home!"  We had made it!  The sound guided the captain into the harbor loaded with docked lobstermen's boat.  He expertly brought the rocking Hardy Boat to rest.  We were safe.

We have learned that each harbor has it's own buoy with it's own bell.  In the midst of darkness or storm or fog a captain can tell where he is by the sound of the bell.  He must know his bell's sound or he will be lost.

This year I have been tossed and churned about.  In the midst of fear and anxiousness,  I'm learning the sound of my Heavenly Father's voice who will guide me into safe harbor.