Obedience Is the Best Route

“It was May 6, 1503. The water was particularly cold that night. Contrary to predictions, our vessel had been caught in a terrible storm. Now, tossed into the violent waves, I searched in vain for some floating object that might help to buoy me up.  My strength and hope were fading out completely when suddenly I felt a hand that grasped mine and held me fast. Who was it?”

Overcome once again with remorse and vivid memories, Alonso let the quill slip from his trembling hand…

He was writing the chronicle of the events on the ship “The Virgin of Hope”, the first to try to defy one of the most feared navigational zones of that century: the Cape of Storms.

After a deep sigh, the sailor continued to write:

“Who could it be? It was a beautiful Lady, with a majestic yet compassionate manner. At that moment, She saved my life! Nevertheless, we were severely punished. Nothing was left of our ship but scattered debris and a handful of crew bobbing on the waves.”

In these brief lines, Alfonso had tried to condense the pain and failure suffered during that woeful episode. But, after reading what he had written, he exclaimed: “Oh, nobody is going to understand this story. If it is to make sense, I must start from the beginning.”

And taking a new sheet of parchment, he began his narration again:

“It all started when the helmsman Freitas, dissatisfied with the commander’s orders, proposed that we sail in different direction. The fact is, we were running out of patience with our captain… He seemed to have no idea how to run an expedition! The way things were going, we were never going to make it through the Cape of Storms. So I, along with several other experienced sailors, started to discuss what would be the best course to take.

“At one point, seeing us gathered around the map, with pencil, ruler and compass in hand, the captain warned: ‘If you are thinking about going against my orders, you can consider this ship as lost!’ But we paid him no heed. It was our goal to discover new lands! To obtain it, we would stop at nothing. And if the commander was not equal to such a glorious mission, we had no choice but to disobey.

“We adjusted the route in accordance with our calculations, but instead of getting closer to our destination, we seemed to be farther than ever from it! At dusk, the sea changed dramatically. Tremendous waves continually crashed on the deck, and our men were running out of strength to crank the pumps. The ship was fast flooding.

“Sensing the imminent catastrophe, many went to the chaplain to make their Confession, while others – perhaps too busy with their duties – continued to ignore God even at that last moment.

“We saw no cannonballs and smelled no gunpowder, but something much more destructive than an enemy attack was raging among us: disunity. When we first left Lisbon, we had felt like a group of great heroes, united in the desire to conquer new lands for Mary, and to implant the Cross of Christ on their soil! But we had lost sight of that… Each one only wanted to impose his opinion on the others, which led us further and further away from the success of our mission.

“At midnight, the main mast came crashing down. With that, our beloved ship, once so fine and glorious, began to fall to wreckage. Looking around, I saw the captain leaning on the deck railing, weeping for sheer grief. At that moment, I was filled with remorse. Everything that was happening was a punishment for what we had done! Our revolt had created disunity and brought shipwreck upon us…

“A few managed to get into the little lifeboats. Of those who were tossed into the water, some were fortunate enough to find a plank to grasp. Others, like me, were at the mercy of the waves.

“Then I could no longer see the captain’s eyes. And lost in the blue immensity that churned about me, I knew it was my duty to ask his forgiveness. I was sure that God dwelt in that man’s heart, for I could remember his eyes during so many navigations, sparkling like a starry sky, guiding us through squalls, dangers and uncertainties.

“But now he seemed to be so far away! Not only the captain, but also God’s forgiveness. Inwardly, I asked for a miracle. I could hardly draw my breath and was about to be pulled down into the raging sea… My hopes were almost extinguished.

“Suddenly, a hand grasped mine and held fast. Gradually, I could distinguish the face of my benefactor: She was more fairer than the moon and more radiant than the sun! No lilly could compare with her purity! The very stars could not compare with the clarity of her gaze!”

Alonso dropped his pen again and gave vent to his tears. After a few moments of reflection, looking at a small statue of the Blessed Virgin who had saved him, he exclaimed:

“Now I understand, my Mother, the reason why I must write these lines! There will most certainly be many other souls who will go through ordeals like mine. I must show them that, in moments of danger and uncertainty, they should never take their eyes off the captain’s. For if they do, they will only find disagreement, disunity, and error…”

Finally, Alonso took up his quill again, dipped it in the ink and continued writing:

“When I awoke, I was in Portugal again. Then, the Beautiful Lady, placing her gentle hand on my forehead, said to me: ‘Do not be afraid, Alonso, still so inexperienced in the ways of suffering. I am the Mother of Hope. Your plea for forgiveness rose to the throne of the Most High and He had mercy on you. I came to save you from the wrath of the waters that were about to devour you. Know that those who fight for God should fear nothing, for His hand will protect them.’

“I never saw that Lady of Light again. But until today, there is one certainty that has never left my soul: At the time of the worst dangers, whoever sincerely beseeches forgiveness need not despair. Our disobedience, errors and sins, and even our unfaithfulness to God’s love must not shake us. Rather let us always have confidence in Mary Most Holy, fair and most powerful Queen, for She is able to save us in the midst of the worst storms.” ◊