It was 8 00am on a crisp, sunny, spring morning when I set out in the minibus, with the twelve young men. We were bound for the coast and looking forward to a day's deep-sea fishing. As a Christian worker, in their community, I had often tried to get them interested in Jesus and the Bible. They had not believed, but they liked my company and thought the van was a good prospect. Their proposition had been, "We'll pay for the petrol and for your place in the boat, if you'll take us down there." I had agreed with some anxiety, not being a good sailor.

I had taken the unmarked bus. We had another, which had been donated to our work, and had the Bible verse, "Jesus said, 'You must be born again,'" painted all round it. They asked me why I hadn't brought the "Jesus bus," as they would have preferred it - not because they were getting interested, but they reckoned the "sharks," or police would not stop such a vehicle and the odd joint was being lit up, in the back!

I had asked several Christian friends to pray that I wouldn't be sea-sick in front of the men; especially since I was representing the Lord who heals and they had agreed to do this; also I had gone without food since the night before and had taken travel-sickness pills. As we left the harbour in our small vessel, the boatman reported that we were heading into a 'North-West Four,' wind and my heart sank. "O Lord," I prayed, "help me to stay fine and to fish well and to enjoy this day, for the sake of these guys."

We sailed out for a few miles  and began to lower our lines over the side of the boat. Immediately, with the swell of the sea, I began to feel a nausea in my stomach and within a few minutes I was vomiting violently into the water. I was so embarrassed. When the bout had passed, I thought, "Oh well, that's it over with now; perhaps I'll be okay." But no - I just couldn't stop and was sick over and over again, feeding the fish on yellow bile! It was dreadful!

Well, to cut the story short, I just vomited the whole time we were at sea - four to five hours with a few minutes in between to moan and groan and to feel sorry for myself. I couldn't fish or watch; I just hung over the side the whole time - I have never felt so ill in all my life! The other men were fine and the wise cracks flowed along with the slagging.

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