Student Compilations

Smiling, an older gentleman watched his grandchildren as they played. Excitedly, they came running to beg a story. “Tell us about one of your adventures at sea!” they pleaded. He laughed heartily, gathering them up into his lap. “Alright. Hmm…lets see. Oh! I know…I’ll tell you the story of how my ship came to be renamed.”

“During the French and Indian War, I was the captain of a British furrier privateer on its way to Boston. As usual, our ship, The Quero, was sailing its trading routes through the Bay of Fundy. We were armed and prepared for any French attacks. However, we were on strange waters, my crew and I, and we were not used to this part of the sea. We had been forced to take a longer, more indirect course to avoid any military action with the French. Feeling full responsibility for my crew and cargo, I feared that we would run into a shipload of Frenchies on foreign waters. Little did I know how merited my apprehensions were.

“At pre-dawn, the lookout called, ‘French ho! Larboard!’

“Sailors wakened with a start. Feet pounded up the ladder. My commands rang sharply.

“‘All hands on deck! Man the cannons! Level your guns! Prime! Fire! Load…ram it home!’ I bellowed. My heart was beating rapidly. As the cannonball fired, smoke, sparks, and splinters filled the dawn air. Anxiously, I peered through the debris to glimpse the fate of the enemy. Had the cannons hit?”

“What happened Grandpa?” the children asked. “Were you hurt?”

“Let me continue and I’ll tell you. Now where was I--oh yes.”

“Suddenly, our ship rocked violently. I raced aft, scared. ‘Will we all die?’ I wondered wildly as I raced across the deck. Just then, I heard First Mate Dickens’s hoarse voice call out, ‘We’re shoaling Captain!’

“‘Raise the mainsail!’ I bellowed commandingly. ‘Heave to!’

“It was too late. Nothing at all happened. We could not move. All hands not manning cannons grabbed oars and poles in a desperate attempt to free us from the sandbar. The men were in despair. The French ship’s cannonballs were splashing in the water no more than fifteen yards from the ship now. I sent a desperate prayer towards heaven: ‘Save us!’

“All of a sudden, a breeze began to blow, filling our sails. The Quero groaned and strained and slowly eased herself off the bar. ‘Hooray!’ the men cheered.

“A split-second later, we were stunned to see the French warship take a direct hit!

“When the smoke cleared, it was evident that the sparked powder room had exploded the whole ship! Devoutly thankful, I breathed a silent prayer. Singing a victory chantey, we continued on our voyage back to Boston.

“That was my first run-in with the French as captain of The Quero. No sailor ever forgot how close we came to disaster when God preserved us by graciously sending His breeze. This is how we came to re-christen our ship The Breeze.”

Realizing the story was over, the children begged, “Just one more story, please Grandpa?”

He laughed. “Tomorrow night. It is your bedtime now!”

As they scurried off to bed, the old bearded captain bowed his head and thanked God once more for watching over them that fateful day.