Lord Save Me

https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=4369922169690111&id=100000171133918 When we lived on Guam (1-8-89 to 2-19-95) I ran out of fuel in a skiff during a typhoon and almost got blown out to sea. The reason I was on the skiff during a typhoon is because my employer at a scuba diving tour company asked me to go down to the harbor and tie the dive boats up better and secure everything on the decks because the typhoon had been upgraded. The larger of the two boats was tied up at the harbor of refuge (Harbor Of Refuge: a harbor constructed to give shelter to ships on an exposed coastline) and I needed to take the skiff to get to it. With the typhoon bearing down on the island, I was impatient to get home to my family seeing that the fuel tank was low, I opted to push ahead, disregarding the wisdom in "preparing every needful thing." (D&C 88:119). As the outboard sputtered to a stop I realized that there was only one oar onboard. In my panic the Holy Spirit guided me. As the wind started blowing me toward the open sea, I straddled the bow so that I could use the single oar like a paddle and started paddling vigorously. Paddling with an oar is extremely awkward and inefficient. Without continuous and vigorous effort, the wind would start to overpower my forward momentum. Several times I felt that my energy was going to give out and I was going to collapse in shear exhaution. Pleading prayers mixed with perspiration and determination ultimately got me to safety. As I eventually paddled into the wind-shadow of the harbor of refuge, gratitude surged through my heart. This experience taught me much about exercising faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. A very good friend took a crude drawing that was in my journal and turned it into this beautiful paintlng. D&C 38:30 . . . but if ye are prepared ye shall not fear. Mathew 14:30 But when he saw the wind boisterous, he was afraid; and beginning to sink, he cried, saying, Lord, save me.

Polished Stones

 https://youtu.be/tfaDYmT0Lw4

Joseph Smith: I am like a huge, rough stone rolling down from a high mountain; and the only polishing I get is when some corner gets rubbed off by coming in contact with something else, striking with accelerated force against religious bigotry, priestcraft, lawyer-craft, doctor-craft, lying editors, suborned judges and jurors, and the authority of perjured executives, backed by mobs, blasphemers, licentious and corrupt men and women--all hell knocking off a corner here and a corner there. Thus I will become a smooth and polished shaft in the quiver of the Almighty, who will give me dominion over all and every one of them, when their refuge of lies shall fail, and their hiding place shall be destroyed, while these smooth-polished stones with which I come in contact become marred. HC 5:401

Orignal Composition: When The Sea Lies Down

In my maritime career, I remember back on the times when the seas laid down after a storm.  Finally, when the  pitching to and fro was over, it was so nice to be able to relax. This composition was written with the thoughts of a quiet sea firmly imbedded in my mind. 

Lessons Learned from a Shipwreck

When I look at myself and my life, if there is anything that sets me apart from other men, it is the time that I have spent diving on shipwrecks. Just like all things in life, there is always someone who outdoes you, and yes, there are certainly a number of men in the world who have wreck dived more than me, but I have a singular trait that the other divers do not possess. I have dove those rusting hulk's, with corroded and bent beams  with eyes that look through, as Elder Neil A.  Maxwell would say, "through the lens of the gospel." 
There is nothing more grand and stately as sailing vessel plying the roaring billows on the open sea, and, adversely, there is nothing more sad and pitiful as the rusting, tangled hulk of a vessel, motionless on the floor of the sea. 
One such wreck comes to mind that I dove while captaining a live aboard dive boat in Truk Lagoon, one of the federated states of Micronesia. It was the wreck of a world war 2 submarine that had sunk with all it's men during an enemy straffing attack, when one of the crew, in the heat of battle, forgot to close one of the conning tower hatches completely. The sub sunk in 110 feet of water and as the vessel filled with water, it became impossible for the ship to be lifted to the surface. The crane buckled from the weight of the sub as it lifted.  Because the conning tower flooded, it blocked the only possible escape path for the men. All onboard perished. As I slowly hovered over the top of that shipwrecked sub, the total loss of life from one man's mistake harrowed up my soul. The view and the sad story of what happened pricked my conscience  and strengthened my resolve to be conscientious about my responsibility to choose wisely.
As I slowly ascended to the surface, I knew that what I had just seen would affect me for the rest of my mortal life. 
The choices we make will build the fabric of our lives. A choice, quickly and spontaneously conceived, can change the entire course of your life. Choose wisely!

This is from the original blog. 

Friday, February 20, 2009

I 169

In 1994, while captaining a 140 foot Norwegian Whaler in Truk Lagoon that had been converted into a live-aboard dive boat, I had the opportunity to scuba dive on a Japanese submarine wreck called the I-169. The I-169 is a popular wreck to dive on in Truk, not so much for the wreck itself, but for the story behind its sinking.

Truk Lagoon is an atoll in the mid-pacific about 633 miles southeast of Guam and was a large Japanese naval base during World War II where the US Armed Forces sunk 40 Japanese vessels from the air on February 17th, 1944.

On April 2nd, 1944 the crew of the I-169 received a warning of an impending B-24 raid. They dove down to sit on the bottom to wait out the raid. The submarine failed to return to the surface so a diver was sent down to find out what had happened. According to Dan Bailey, who wrote the book, WORLD WAR TWO WRECKS of the KWAJALEIN and TRUK LAGOONS, the following is what the diver found.

The upper valve of the storm ventilation tube in the upper part of the conning tower was open a couple of inches. The valve had either been opened by mistake or someone had forgotten to close it during submergence and the diver found the control room to be completely flooded.

Because the conning tower was flooded, there was no way for those inside to escape. Also, the valves to make the sub ascend were in the flooded control room.

The diver did hear tapping and the rescue team tried to lift the sub up from the bottom, but the crane collapsed and because they were under constant attack rescue efforts were hampered. The subs compliment was 70 but there were 100 bodies recovered once the rescue team was able to enter. Investigators presume that some 30 shore laborers that were loading supplies onto the sub at the time of the warning decided to stay on board.

Someone made a costly mistake. Evidently, the Captain was on shore doing business when the warning came and was saved from the sub's terrible end.

The sub lays in waters 130 to 150 feet deep so dive time is short. As I dove along the eerie, rusting hulk; the sad end to so many lives for such a silly mistake seemed unfair.

After the bodies had been taken ashore, the Japanese depth charged the I-169 so that the sub would not come into enemy hands. Tangled lifting cables and jagged, sharp metal stood out against the sleek lines of what remained of the sub after so many years.

There is a good lesson to learn from the I-169: Small insignificant actions that seem inconsequential, can have huge repercussions.

Here is an artists drawing of what the I-169 looks like today after years of rusting and corrosion on the sea-floor.

Here is a nautical poem about that subject that I wrote for the youth while serving in the bishopric in Sitka, Alaska.

Just One Degree

By J. Brad Chapman

Here's a little scenario I'd like to offer you,

In it, your the Captain of a ship, you're brave and true.

And you'll be in command of the course and of the crew,

But first, let me share a navigational point with you.

If on your voyage you set the course, but were off just one degree,

Would you reach the port of call across the deep blue sea?

Or would you find a lonely place on some far, distant shore,

And realize a small mistake was at your problems core.

Just one degree in three-sixty, doesn't seem an awful lot,

Unless you want to end your voyage at some prearranged spot.

You see, my friend, just one degree when crossing oceans wide,

Could make you a poor lost soul, or a triumphant guide.

And yes, there is a price we pay when we are not precise.

It makes our chance of life's success like the rolling of the dice.

And sloppiness in thought and deed might not seem so awfully wrong,

Unless you want to end life's voyage spiritually sound and strong.

In the Book of Alma, fifty seven, twenty-one,

We read about Helaman and two thousand of his sons.

Now they survived the battle 'cause of what their mothers taught;

They didn't doubt and they obeyed the orders that they got.

And when the conflict ended all two thousand were alive.

They followed with exactness, not one single warrior died.

You see, my friend, just one degree, when crossing oceans wide,

Could make you a poor lost soul, or a triumphant guide.

So here, friend, take the wheel, set the course, it's up to you,

But realize, before you start, what one degree can do.

Will you, with exactness, be obedient and true,

And steer the straight and narrow course, until your voyage is through?

October 5, 1998

This is a photo of me the day that I dove the I-169 on October 15, 1994.

Our Trukese divemaster is next to me on the front row.

Those on the back row are recreational divers from the states.

This is a photo of the S/S Thorfin in Truk Lagoon.

It is a 140 foot Norwegian Whaler that was converted into a live-aboard dive boat.

My Quest for a Golden Courie

The beautiful Golden Courie

It was a lazy afternoon working at Micronesian Divers Association on Guam.
After a day of dive guiding I was in the shop and overheard someone talking about finding a Golden Courie at a divesite called Pete's Reef.  I had guided Japanese divers at that site many times but had never found a prized  Golden Courie.  Pete's Reef was just north of Facpi Point.  It had a coral reef that started at the edge  of the barrier reef and ran  down to about 70 feet where it turned into a sand flat.  Within a week or so I was headed to Pete's Reef with a group of Japanese Divers.  As the captain of the dive boat, I didn't dive because I had to be in command of the vessel in case the mooring line broke or some other situation that would put the passengers in danger.
        During the dive, as I would help the returning divers back onto the boat I noticed that one young female diver came up with 1000 PSI of air in her tank. 

UNDER CONSTRUCTION.

Original Nautical Verse: LESSONS LEARNED

Lessons Learned

By Captain J. Brad Chapman

August 6^th, 2006

Of all of the lessons, I’ve ever learned, 

some great ones I’ve learned from the sea.

One lesson, while pondering, now comes to mind, 
a memory that’s still haunting me.

It’s a lesson, my friend, that I learned very fast, 
and I got off easy, you’ll see.

It could have been the worst mistake ever made,
by a sea-going farer, like me.

It’s really a simple thing, unworthy of much, 
compared with some perils of the sea.

But it’s a significant lesson I learned; 
so much that it influenced me.

In the dark of the night, on the island of Truk, 
I’d been diving the wreck of a ship,

When running to soak in a tub to get warm,
in my haste, I took a bad trip.

Now you who’ve not spent much time on the sea,
who’ve spent most of your life on the shore,

Don’t know that it’s bad form to run while on deck,
as you might trip and fall overboard.

Well, I didn’t fall overboard, “lucky” you say, 
well my answer to you’s yes and no,

For as I was running barefoot on the deck: 
on a stanchion I caught my big toe.

I let out a scream as I fell to the deck, 
the pain shooting up to my hip.

And rolling, and bawling and clutching my toe,
wisdom said, never run on a ship.

And then as I cradled my sore, throbbing toe, 
I bowed my head sullen and meek.

I’d broken a rule I knew better to break,
and I hobbled and limped for a week.

Now my lesson to you, my truth-seeking friend, 
is to do what you know to be true.

If you haven’t chosen well ahead of the act,
you might do what you know not to do.

So sit and decide what you will and won’t do, 
choose what you will and won’t be.

And then, in your haste, as the crisis unfolds, 
you’ll be amazed at how clearly you’ll see-

That life is made up of the choices you make,
choosing wisely or most foolishly.

That a clear conscience brings sweet peace to your soul;
 it’s true, please listen to me.

So now as I finish my nautical tale,
 there’s wisdom I’d like to impart.
Just little things, really, but value galore,
 that will help on the life’s voyage you start.

Make sure you take map and compass, 
so you’ll know which way you should go.
And hold on tight in a tempest,
 as you might get tossed to and fro.

But above all else that I tell you, 
and before you depart from the slip,
Choose now how you’ll act in the moment, 
and no, . . . . . .  never run on a ship!

This poem is based on a true experience that actually happened to me while captaining a live-aboard dive vessel in the Republic of Chuuk in the Micronesian Islands. It is a 140' Norwegian Whaler that was converted to a dive vessel. I worked on it as the captain in the summer of 1994. The captain/owner went to England to a tourism convention and wanted a licensed captain on board while he was gone for insurance and liability reasons but also because he needed a person in authority to keep the crew on the ball while he was gone. I was onboard for 10 days. The company paid for my flight and also paid me while I was there. It was great.

One night I did a night dive. It was a night that I saw the most unbelievable phosphorescence. At night when the sun goes down it can get chilly even in the tropics. After coming aboard I made a bee-line for the hot-tub on the upper deck to get warm. Running to get in the hot water, I stubbed my big toe on a stansion. The poem is very accurate as far as details.

S/S Thorfin
140' Norwegian Whaler

Me, sitting with my feet up on the hot-tub that is mentioned in the poem.

The chart room aboard the S/S Thorfin.

The Sea and the Soul

The Mariner's Dictionary - By Gershom Bradford

Sea Calming Oil:

Oil used for spreading on the sea in heavy weather to prevent or reduce the breaking crests. Vegetable or fish oils are better than mineral oils for this purpose. It was used as early as the 5^th century.

Oil Bag:

A contrivance from which oil is allowed to drip slowly and spread on the surface of the sea in order to form a slick and reduce the seas.

The Sea and the Soul

By J. Brad Chapman
Written August 24, 2013

When the sailors of old plied the wide, open deep,

in tempests of trea-cherous degree,

with fierce rage in the wind, and dark fear in their hearts,

they sought ways to calm the rough sea.

It’s the spindrift that blows from the crest of the waves

that blinds eyes, causing brave men to fret,

and the breakers that roll o’er the storm-tossed deck,

washing men overboard - that’s the threat.

So,  .  . with a bag poked with holes, filled with oil that drips,

slowly coating the face of the sea,

it then causes the breakers and mist to subside

it affects surface tension, you see.

Now men through the ages have diligently sought

to quell the harsh seas of this life,

by reducing the sadness, the troubles, the hate,

the evil; so pervasive and rife.

Turbulent, buffeted, tormented, distressed,

these are words of the sea and the soul.

but there‘s a solution, like spreading the oil,

that helps soothe, comfort and console.

Prayer is the tool, that God-fearing men use,

to put joy and peace in their lives,

like sea-calming oil, which coating the soul

 lessens the hardships and strife.

          The effectual prayer of a righteous man, (James 5:16)

availeth much, so you see,

a just, upright life, that is moral and pure,

           is a heart-felt prayer’s best guarantee.  (D & C  100:15)

So, .  .  . kneel down on the deck, with firm grip on the rail,

 head bowed in meek humility,

remember that oft, life’s sore tempests and trials,

              prove our worthiness and sanctity.  (D & C 101:4)

          Yes, the prayer of the righteous, is His delight, (Proverbs 15:8)

 so scanning this life’s ruckus sea,

pray to the Father with real intent,

            you’ll “endure well”  storms  He may decree.  (D & C 121:8)

(Psalms 107: 23-31)

             He’ll strengthen you, guide you, and cause you to stand,  

 on the voyages you choose to embark,

He’ll steer you ‘round obstacles and treacherous shoals,

if to His charts (the scriptures) you’ll hark.

So,  .  .  . with stout-hearted  Amen, resolve now to “sail on”,

with prayer - like oil, smoothing the sea.

Square your shoulders to windward, like a brave mariner:

      Destination? . . . Eternity!  (Moses 1:39)

This is a photo of a contraption that someone made to spread oil on the surface of the sea to minimize  the breaking seas and spray. The item was thought to have been constructed in the 1950's or 1960's.

In this photo I  am delivering the M/V  Sounds of Pacific  to Japan from Guam. We had to cross through the infamous "Devil's Triangle" which actually has a worse reputation than the Burmuda Triangle.