“Trust the Lord with all your heart; don’t count on your own understanding." ~ Proverbs 3:5
The Morrell
first sailed in 1906. The huge 600-foot freighter hauled iron ore to ports
around the Great Lakes for six decades.
Ships don’t
typically sail the Great Lakes in late November when the infamous gales are the
most treacherous. Additionally, ships built before the late 1940s had a fatal
flaw: the steel used in their construction had a high sulfur content, making it
brittle in icy waters. When another of the fleet’s vessels broke down, the Morrell
was ordered to sail one more time.
Out deep in Lake
Huron, the ship proved no match for the 35-foot waves and damaging winds it
encountered. Around midnight, Hale woke from the sound of two loud bangs.
Snatching his lifejacket, he rushed out onto the snowy deck wearing only boxer
shorts and a peacoat.
Battered by the
elements, the ship’s steel ripped apart below the waterline and split in half. As
it sank, Hale and three of his crewmates climbed into a small life raft.
Over the desperate
hours that followed, the four nearly-frozen men lay helpless. Huge waves washed
over the little raft. The wind lashed at their skin. No one spoke.
By
morning, Hale’s shipmates had all perished. He lay among his fallen friends and
prayed for mercy: “God, please let me die peacefully.” For the next 24 hours,
Hale suffered alone, keeping fingers in his mouth to prevent frostbite and
holding in his urine to save body heat.
Still, he sensed himself being drawn to the heavens,
where he later recalled "My worldly pain and misery were gone. The love
was so profound. I was sure I was about to meet my God … in person."
That afternoon, a
Coast Guard helicopter rescued Hale after 38 hours in the raft. His nightmare had ended. He was airlifted to a
local hospital where his body temp registered at 94oF. Doctors all
agreed that any ice chips would have lowered his survival chances.
Of the boat's 29
crew members, 28 died.
As he closes his
eyes and remembers his friends, Hale barely has words to describe his
near-death experience. He can still feel the manifestation of God’s presence in
that lifeboat - that warmth; that loving comfort.
Only now, nearly 60
years later, did he mention the mystery man who helped save his life that night
day. God spared his life, he reasoned, to tell the world about the epiphany he’ll never forget.
Lord, we know with You there are no
coincidences. Lead me to trust in Your goodness and mercy, knowing You have
good things in store for my life. Amen
