Experiences of a Ship Missionary
By CHAS. W. PETER
Safely within the Golden Gate, and floating securely and quietly down the roadway between the city built upon hills to the right, and Alcatraz Island, Uncle Sam’s fortified watchman of the gate to the left, the white-sailed wanderer of the deep comes to her moorings somewhere close to Goat Island, or is towed to a place that has been selected for her alongside the quay. Here her assorted cargo is discharged from her hold. If she has sailed from the Orient or the islands of the sea, it will most likely be tea, sugar, bananas, etc.; or if from around the Horn, the English, French, or Italian merchantman will be discharging those brands of manufactured goods commonly found labeled “Made in Germany,” etc. It may be we see a greyhound steamer from the Orient, such as the “Mongolia,” the twenty-eight-thousand-ton modern liner, or some of her sister ships, the largest vessels that enter the harbor; or it may be an Australian liner, that has made her docks, or cast off her stays, for a long voyage across the trackless deep, touching at Hawaii, the garden of the Pacific, en route to her destination. Looking at the “Guide,” we read, “‘Columbia,’ to sail at 11 A. M. for Portland.” She is filled with a jolly company, going to attend the exposition. A band plays “My country, ’tis of thee.” As the last strains of the patriotic song die away, a Swedish quartet of male voices is heard singing the Swedish national hymn, or a company of missionaries, bidding farewell in song—“God be with you till we meet again.” It would be an endless task to describe all the steamers and sailing craft, large and small, that visit us yearly, some monthly, some weekly, and some daily. Every nation that floats a vessel upon the high seas, or proudly waves her colors from a masthead, contributes to their number. Surrounded by the Finnish and Scandinavian missions and fishermen’s and sailors’ union rooms, one finds the San Francisco Ship Mission, a department of the California Missionary Society of Mountain View, Cal. Upon entering the room, the visitor sees in front, upon the wall, a canvas, upon which are printed the ten commandments of God. A fourteen-foot, seven-shelved bookcase to the right contains Bibles, books, papers, and tracts in all the leading languages. After stamping a goodly assortment, and placing it within my grip, I start upon my rounds to the ships. After looking at the “Guide,” to see which vessels are to sail, and when, I kneel, and ask Jehovah to apportion his angels to the different vessels, to give the desire to read, and to impress the truth home to the hearts of the readers of the precious printed pages that are launched out upon the deep as “bread cast upon the waters.” With grip in one hand, I manage with the other to climb up the side of the huge wind-jammer, and stand upon the deck. “Captain, how many men do you carry? When do you sail?”—“Thirty men, and we sail the tenth of the month, around the Horn, for Liverpool.” “Here is a roll of assorted papers and tracts, to be read when you get to sea, a gift of the California Missionary Society.” “Many thanks to you. We are glad to get something to read when we are out for so many months at sea.” “Yes, I have read that passage, and believe in God,” he says, as I turn to and read Ps. 107:23: “They that go down to the sea in ships, that do business in great waters; these see the works of the Lord, and his wonders in the deep.” After handing him the roll of precious printed message of truth, and possibly selling one or more books to him or his crew, I bid farewell, with a “Pleasant voyage to you, Captain.” The next vessel may be a French merchantman, or an Italian gunboat, or Russian cruiser. The first sale to a Frenchman was the “Life of Christ” and “From Eden to Eden,” in the French language. “Transport to sail to-day,” said the watchman at the gate. “One thousand soldier boys aboard, in transit to the island possessions”—somebody’s boys, given as sacrifices upon the altar of a nation’s lust for commerce and territory. Having prepared an assortment of several hundred papers, tracts, etc., I go on board, and hand to each a copy, as far as they will reach. At twelve o’clock sharp the whistle blows; the twin-screws begin to churn the waves, as the huge transport starts out upon her mission. The regiment band strikes up “Good-by, little girl, good-by.” Tears are shed by mothers and sweethearts, as they look at the faces of those whom possibly they will never see again. It is Sunday afternoon, and all is quiet upon the quay. A motley crowd of human beings is gathered around some speaker, who is exhorting them. He may be a gospel worker, a socialist, or an infidel, who has attracted to himself these men of such mixed nationality. The gospel worker tells of Christ, of the One to save them from their sins, exhorting them to anchor to the Rock, steadfast and sure, which will never be moved by storm or gale, pacifying the angry waves as oil poured upon the troubled waters. The agitator or infidel has a sign tacked up, to which he refers: “The only Satan is ignorance, and the only Jesus Christ is knowledge,” fulfilling the Scripture, “They worshiped and served the creature more than the Creator,” “and their foolish heart was darkened.” Every Sunday afternoon our time comes to present the message to this throng, and hand out tracts to them, and invite those who are interested to attend our Bible class at the headquarters near at hand, where we have an organ, and a good supply of chairs to accommodate them. Much I could say about the many interesting experiences I have daily; but suffice it to say that the harvest truly is great, and the laborers are few. I think I hear you say, “What can I do to help the San Francisco Ship Mission in its work?”—Send clubs of new Signs—five or more, ninety cents each per year; four, thirty cents per month; two, fifteen cents a month—or of Life and Health—ten or more to one address—1 copy, five cents a month. Money is wanted to buy tracts and purchase paper file-backs for the steamers, the name of each steamer to be placed upon the back. The Young People’s Societies that want to take up this work can write to me, and I will furnish the name of an ocean liner which they can supply with a file, and keep it filled with copies of Signs, Life and Health, and Watchman, or whatever periodicals they may choose. Some of the boats are the “Ventura,” “Sonoma,” “Sierra,” “Alameda,” of the Australian and island route; or “Mongolia,” “Manchuria,” “Korea,” “Siberia,” “Copic,” “China,” of the15Oriental route; “Santa Rosa,” “Queen Roanoke,” of the coast routes; besides hundreds of steamers, sailing vessels of all descriptions and sizes. Boxes of clean copies of all our papers, excepting Pacific Union Recorder, etc., are received, freight prepaid. The mailing of papers costs as much as new copies direct from the office; send your postage there. Canned fruit and dried fruit can be used at the mission rooms, to feed the hungry who are brought to us. All money for subscriptions and files, etc., should be sent to A. J. S. Bourdeau, Mountain View, Cal., missionary secretary of the California Conference. All shipments of papers, fruit, etc., should be made to the mission address: 9 Mission St., Room 7, San Francisco, Cal.