Tymon Burghy

“I don’t feel well, because we were near to die. The boat was saying ‘woo woo woo woo’ so I was very scared.” These are the words of my friend Bless when recalling his first trip in a boat in his entire life. A trip that we had just landed on shore from.

Bless was one of the hosts of our small team of missionaries in his East African country of Malawi. He was also part of a group of pastors that we had brought East of their hometown, Mzimba, driving for four hours to the other side of the country to visit Lake Malawi. Only one member of the group had ever seen the lake before. The group quickly decided that they would not be getting in the water as only one of them knew how to swim. I, however, packed my swimming trunks.

Dinner at the particular hotel that we were staying at was prepared to order, we were the only people in the dining area, which was a small room with shuttered greenhouse style windows. The dim lighting made us tired as we waited for our meal. Outside the building a few men worked on some small carvings and wares. Some members of the group went outside and chatted and our missionary crew sat at the table, a little jet-lagged from our flight the previous day. Our missionary crew consisted of my family’s pastor, Rob; an elder from the church, Joe; and me. We were joined by a missionary couple, Reda and Lawrence, from Tennessee who are more longer term missionaries in Malawi (You can find Reda’s blog here). Reda and Lawrence have been working in Malawi for quite a while, taking time off to head back to the states to be with their many children and grandchildren. Rob has known the duo since he served as youth pastor to their two youngest children.

While waiting on dinner, Rob got up and walked outside. In his usual extraverted ways, he struck up a conversation with the craftsmen. They made paintings and carvings in the evenings when they were not fishing. The sale of these items to visitors was a source of income to take home to their families. As they talked about their trade, Rob, ever the inquisitive spirit, asked them if they took groups out on their boat. According to Rob, the three men glanced at each other and replied that yes they could do that. They then gave Rob a great price for a boat tour of the inlet where we were. The price was around 80,000 kwacha ($50) for the whole group, quite the bargain for the twelve of us. Rob came back into the room and told the group about the offer and we all decided that it sounded like a great way to spend the morning. We paid half upfront and told them that we would meet them on the shore at 9am. Our dinner came late in the evening, and after, we made our way to our respective rooms and settled in for the night.

When the morning came, I got ready, put my swimming trunks on, and headed for the beach. As members of the group came out on the beach, we saw the daily life of those who lived on the lake. Nearby, a man was dragging a line of fish out of the water. The fish, known as chambo, was being sold for the high price of 45,000 kwacha ($25) just up the beach. A boy, no older than 15, sat at the water’s edge, dipping and ruffling clothing out of a plastic tub. From the lake, came a wooden motor-driven boat seemingly hobbled together with nails and worn timbers. The three-man crew jumped out and began making preparations for our group to board. They said that they had been fishing for “eagle bait” and were ready for the tour. Our group finally assembled and we loaded into the boat and took off from the shore. I sat at the bow of the boat, enjoying the freshwater breeze that was kicked up by the boat slicing through the water, I was joined at the bow by Rob and Joe. Reda and Lawrence sat in the mid-section of the boat and all of our Malawian friends sat towards the stern. After about 15 minutes, out boat glided to a stop and one of the crew of the boat let out a shrill whistle, he then chucked something out into the water. Out of the trees on the coast, a form took a start and flew out over the water. An eagle swooped down, snatching up the “eagle bait” that I would find out was a fish that the crewman had launched. We watched the eagle return to its perch just out of sight in the trees.

We continued on our way, stopping another 15 minutes or so later, and getting near some large clusters of rocks jutting out of the water. It was passed up the boat that the crew liked this spot to jump off the rocks. One crewman began scalling the rocks soon followed by another. Rob was the first of our group to follow suit, he took his shirt, shoes, and socks off and, in his jeans, began to clatter up the rocks. I was next, I stripped off my shirt, kicked off my sandals, and followed up after Rob. As we climbed, we heard Bless from the boat, now safely away from our landing zone. “Don’t jump!” Bless pleaded, “You will die!” he followed. Rob didn’t head Bless’ warning and cannonballed into the cool water below. As he surfaced, there was an unintelligable excitement on the boat. I followed, the water was amazing: cool, clear, fresh, and surprisingly deep. I surfaced and called out to Joe to join. Joe had decided to take up his post on the boat, camera in hand, documenting the excitement. After a minute of making my case, however, Joe handed his camera to Lawrence, shed his shirt and shoes, and,also in his jeans, went over the side of the boat into the water. He joined our rock-jumping party. We took turns jumping, once I did a cannonball, once I dove, and the final time, the five of us, including two crewmen, jumped off in unison. We moved to a shallower area and Rob and I were handed snorkels and masks. I despise snorkels, I would rather dive without one and have many times. I handed the snorkel back and free dove around the boat. The fish in the water were beautiful colours, some glinted in the light, others were stunning shades of bright blues, reds, and yellows. After a short time of “snorkeling” we returned to the boat.

The return trip on the boat was not as smooth as the outbound trip. The lake had begun to get choppier. The boat mounted some decent size waves. Bless moved to the front of the boat with the three “crazy Americans” each wave we crested he let out a little “eeeee”. Bless was not a fan of the waves, he was terrified that he was going to end up in the water and down. I leaned over and told him that he didn’t have anything to worry about that if he went overboard, I would save him. I didn’t tell him that I was in fact no longer a certified lifeguard. The fact that I was willing to save him seemed to help calm Bless’ nerves. We stopped again and fed the eagle once more then headed back toward the beach. We hit the beach and Bless was the first person out of the boat. He ran on shore and knealed in the sand thanking God for the beach. After Bless got to his feet and the rest of us exited the craft, I turned on my camera and said “Bless, how do you feel?” And that’s where he explained that we were “near to die”.

We ate our breakfast which had been prepared for us while we were on the boat. While we were eating, Bless kept talking about the “bumps” in the water. Something we had noticed in our short time in Malawi already was that the roads were terrible there. Large ruts were carved out and there were many, many bumps in the road. Rob turned to Bless and coined a phrase that we continued to use the remainder of our trip and even beyond. Rob said “Every bump is a blessing.”
Bless stopped for a second and looked at Rob and replied “Today was full of many blessings already.” We laughed and ate our breakfast. We loaded into the van that we came in and headed back to Mzimba.

There were many blessings through the remainder of the trip.