Each time that I am forced to remember the events of the night that our boat capsized in the Rio Negro, I can hardly believe that it is all real and not just a dream or something we made up. However, each time that I see the boat anchored at our base or talk to Dr. Anibal who lost his wife, I am reminded that the accident did happen and that it wasn’t a dream. Each time that I recall the details, I am amazed at how God was so intimately involved in saving our lives that night.
The day was like any other day in the jungle. We had spent it visiting a village that did not enjoy the presence of the SDA church. Interestingly enough, Luzeiro boats had worked in this village 10 years prior, but had never succeeded in planting a church. During the early days of the visits to Saracá, a 2 year old girl, Giselle, was found to have a serious heart condition, one that required immediate surgery to save her life. Ten years later, we were able to see Giselle alive and healthy, and visit with her thankful family who remembered all the efforts put forth to save their little baby girl. After doing medical work and holding a short worship service, we ended the day and headed back to the boat. It was Saturday evening and we were all hot and sweaty after a full day of service in the jungle. After sundown worship, everyone agreed on one thing – a nice swim in the river.
Saturnino, one of our full time volunteers, was at the helm on this trip as boat captain. He decided we should move about 600 feet off shore so that we could swim in the fresh water that the current brings lazily downstream. We threw down our anchor in about 18 feet of water, and everyone leaped in and had a great swim. It wasn’t until nearly 10:30 that night that the last person got ready for bed and settled down on the boat. The plan was to depart at midnight to return home to Manaus. Since the downstream trip would take about 6 hours, we would arrive in Manaus around sunrise.
I went to sleep around 8:45 pm. I was planning to assist Saturnino in the navigation that night, so I wanted to get some sleep before I had to wake up and drive the boat. Just a side note about me: I am a very deep sleeper. On a normal night, when my wife Lina may get up three or four times for the kids, dogs barking, or a storm, I wake up in the morning thinking that everyone else slept soundly through the whole night! I don’t wake up easily. I was sleeping in a room in the hull of the boat. On this particular boat we had two rooms downstairs and one room upstairs. Those not in rooms slept in hammocks on the upstairs deck. The rooms had the air conditioners on, so our boat’s generator was running to provide electricity for the boat. As I laid down to sleep in a nice cool room, I could hear absolutely nothing beyond the sound of the generator’s engine, which was right next to our room, separated from us by a thick piece of plywood. After having my prayer and settling in, I was out cold.
Sinking
Sometime later that evening Ricardo and Renato, the two physicians who were sleeping in the same room with me, came in, turned on the lights, and got ready for bed. I heard nothing. Then they went to sleep. Right about midnight, for no known reason whatsoever, Ricardo and I LEAPED out of our beds at the exact same moment. Without one single thought passing through our minds, without even knowing why in the world we were out of our beds, we both opened the door and rushed out as fast as we could. We ran up the stairs into the main room of the boat, the dining room/kitchen. Renato awoke to see us running from the room and followed us. Imagining that there must be a medical emergency we were going to help with, he came behind to help. As I reached the top stair, and looked around the kitchen, the first thought that passed through my mind was the shocking realization that a wave of water was rushing towards me inside the boat, and that we were going underwater! Before I had time to even react, the boat turned on its side, the lights went out, and we were sinking. When the boat turned over, the wall behind me became the ‘floor,’ and I actually fell on my back against it. The large kitchen table came to rest upon my chest, pinning me underwater. I remember screaming out in my mind for God’s help, asking the Lord to save me from certain death. As I tried to free myself, the only thing I could think about was getting out of the boat and up to the surface. The next thing I remember, I was sitting on the side of the boat that was now facing up to the sky, out of the water, and alive. Immediately I began reaching for hands, trying to pull others out of the boat. With sobs and tears ripping through the night, we all worked fervently to ensure each person reached safety on the side of the boat.
Death’s Door
At this point I remembered Renato and Ricardo who had run up the stairs with me. It wasn’t until afterwards that we began to piece the story together. Renato tells how he also made it to the top of the stairs when the boat turned. He was not as fortunate to make it out as I did. He was stuck, not sure under what, but stuck so tightly that he could not even move his hands. As he lay under the water inside the boat, he had a short time to reflect and commune with God. He tells me how he accepted whatever God willed and then tried to hold his breath for as long as possible. Quickly, the moment arrived that he could hold his breath no longer, and he began to slowly drink in water. At this exact moment, one of our boat passengers, a missionary named Roger, swam up to the side of the boat where the kitchen was. He tried to look in the broken kitchen windows to see if there was anyone inside, but through the dark of the night all he could see was water. He screamed in one last desperate attempt, “if there is anyone in here, lift up your hands!” As a bolt of lightning lit up the sky, Roger caught sight of a hand sticking up through the water. With all his might he seized the hand and pulled. Up came Ricardo, immediately followed by Renato. They had both been stuck underwater, with Renato under Ricardo! Two more saved from death.
In the dark of the night, the wind howled an evil screech, as if death itself were close. We continued desperately searching for each person, screaming out names, grabbing hands, embracing necks, sobbing out loud, and crying to God for help. The wind caused huge waves, and each wave would wash over the side of the boat, threatening to tear us loose from our slowly sinking safety. We clung to each other as we prayed to God.
At this moment Gabriel, one of our volunteer missionaries, felt as if an audible voice was telling him to swim to the boat’s front window and look for any people. Through the thick blackness of the night, he could not see anything through the window. As he reached his hand in the window to blindly feel around, he suddenly bumped into the arm of Anibal. Another desperate few minutes passed as, with screams of help and waves over our heads, Anibal was pulled free from the boat. He wasn’t breathing. More screams for help. Gabriel passed his body to me, the closest person to him. As I tried to pull Anibal from the water, another bolt of lightning illuminated his face, showing his eyes fixed and face pale. Desperation! As I hung tightly to his body, I prayed and screamed for God to intervene. Ricardo quickly pulled him the rest of the way out of the water and began CPR. Ricardo administered chest compressions and rescue breaths, and Anibal came back. Praise God!
A few people began singing. The boat was slowly sinking lower. Were we going to make it off alive? I was not sure. A number of questions ran through my mind: where we were? what exactly had happened? why had the boat turned over? I screamed for Saturnino, our boat captain, “Satur, where are you? Satur!” He called back through the night from where he was clinging to the front of the boat. He quickly informed me that we had not even started traveling yet. We were still anchored down, only 600 feet off shore! Hope! We were close to shore! We were not in the middle of the river after all! Praise God! Saturnino later told us that the night had been a calm night. There was no sign of a storm. Out of nowhere a fierce wind quickly hit the front of the boat, turned it sideways, caught the whole side of the boat straight on, and over it went. Just like that! No time to respond, and the boat’s motor was not even turned on yet.
As we all realized that we were close to shore, still in front of Saracá, we decided to scream for help. In unison we begin screaming for help, “HELP! God, please HELP US!” Way up on shore, up the steep incline to Saracá, one young girl was awakened by screaming. Giselle, the very girl whose life was saved by the project ten years earlier, heard the screams for help. Quickly, she woke her parents and told them that she heard some screaming. After listening and hearing nothing, her parents tried to assure her that we had long since traveled. She persisted; certainly, she had heard screams for help. At her persistence, some men from the village went down the incline to get a bit closer, only to hear that it was true, someone was screaming for help!
Through the dark of the night, we suddenly heard the sound of a boat engine roar to life! Help was on the way! Our shouts increased in intensity; we didn’t want to risk the boat passing us by. The Lord heard our cries for help, and almost instantly the waters calmed and the boat was able to come to our side for rescue. Quickly they were able to pull 19 of the 20 passengers from our sinking boat and to safety. We only lacked Dafne, the wife of Anibal on whom we had performed CPR. We searched for nearly an hour without success, unable to find Dafne in the boat. It wasn’t until day broke, after ten hours of work in pulling the boat from the water that we found precious Dafne dead inside the hallway of the boat.
Looking back, I have no doubt that our guardian angels were extremely busy that night. Without a doubt it was our angels that awoke us that night, took us by the hands, and yanked us from our room. Several weeks later as we cleaned up on the boat, we discovered that the door to our room was jammed shut. The act of the boat turning caused a floor board to come up out of place, jamming our door shut. Unlike Anibal’s room, our room had no window to escape through and had we not left the room the very second in which we did, all three of us would have had suffered the same fate as Dafne on that dark and dreadful night.
Each and every survivor has their own version to tell. Each one of our 19 missionaries that survived that night is a living testimony of God’s grace and mercy to us. Gabriel, one of our missionaries, later told me that he thought he had seen me walking back and forth on top of the boat, pulling people from the water. When I confirmed with him that it wasn’t me and told him where I had been, we both are convinced that it was yet another angel busily saving the lives of God’s children that night.
Thank you each for your prayers and the support that you have shown for this ministry. Events like these remind us that we are involved in a Great Controversy, a literal battle between good and evil. We remember that God is in control and that we are His children, to be blessed and protected by His guidance. 2 Corinthians 4:7-11 tells us:
“But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellency of the power may be of God, and not of us. We are troubled on every side, yet not distressed; [we are] perplexed, but not in despair; Persecuted, but not forsaken; cast down, but not destroyed; always bearing about in the body the dying of the Lord Jesus, that the life also of Jesus might be made manifest in our body. For we which live are alway delivered unto death for Jesus' sake, that the life also of Jesus might be made manifest in our mortal flesh.”
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Brad Mills is the president of Adventist Frontier Missions.