The Boat Might Remind You of Gilligan’s Isle, But It Can Lead You to Some Place Beautiful

Amazing adventures that happen when you are expecting something else

Last year, my good buddy Thomas and I decided to rent a boat. 

We happen to both be crazy about our families and our brides, who happen to have birthdays a mere two days apart. So in order to celebrate our respective wives, we decided to go half-sies and rent a boat. (Important detail: We both love boats but we are both currently boat-less.)

After thorough research, Thomas found a sweet deal on a four hour boat rental and we decided to officially embark on a voyage to Disappearing Island. The pictures of this particular sea vessel looked amazing, and the nice gentleman with the faux island-y accent assured Thomas via his mobile device that it was in fact a new boat.

Upon arrival, we casually looked around for a boat resembling the one in the pictures but had no such luck.

Instead, we were led over to the aquatic equivalent of a 1985 Yugo. The radio was broken with wires hanging from it, all the seats looked as if they had been left in a cage with a tiger for a few days to gnaw on, there was a random hole in the middle that in its glory days was apparently home to a table, and the engine made the same noise as my tummy when I have been deprived too long of lunch. 

A bit dumbfounded and assuming we were on some sort of hidden camera show, Thomas politely asked about the “new” boat we had been promised. “Oh yes…it’s new to us.” 

Right. Okay then. 

Being both pastors, still somewhat suspicious of hidden cameras, and wanting to avoid subsequent arrests, we opted against adjusting the dental work of Mr. Faux Island Accent and boarded this trustworthy (cough) sea vessel with our families and set off.

Water flew in from the giant hole and the sides, and on two occasions the front of our boat actually disappeared below the water. I began having flashbacks of Gilligan’s Island.

At one point we passed an abandoned and capsized boat that still somehow looked better off than we were and pondered if this was a bad omen.

Finally, by the grace of God, we made it to Disappearing Island and enjoyed sandcastles and gentle waves with our families.

And then the real fun began.

As we made our way back to the boat, we soon discovered that we had made a tragic and amateur mistake, and not accounting for the tides, found we had officially reached Gilligan status.

After desperately trying to push the boat back into the water, Thomas called Mr. Faux Island Accent for help. “Get out and push.” Yep, very helpful. 

A couple others nearby saw our sad, shipwrecked status and waltzed over to help heave and ho. One nice lady who looked like she could bench press…well, me…literally turned and said, “hold my beer.” (No, I’m not kidding. I lived a meme.)

Eventually we got free, though Thomas now had a freshly wrapped bandage made from my t shirt after slicing his leg on the rotor. 

On our way back, with water splashing in from both the sides and center of our sea vessel, one of the kiddos frantically asked us to stop.

Just over to our side, against the beautiful backdrop of the sea meeting the sky, a pod of dolphins were playing - a perfect ending to our less than perfect day. Thomas’s daughter smiled and observed: “If we hadn’t gotten stuck, we would have missed this.” 

The New Testament contains an eponymous letter from a guy named James, who begins by telling a group of scattered and beat up friends to “consider it pure joy” when they face hard times, because there are some things they will miss out on if they don’t.

For James, the trials, and hardships that he and his friends are facing are actually something to be celebrated, even if we don’t yet see what’s next or how it all fits together. 

Maybe that’s you right now, and you feel the journey you are on looks nothing like the picture you were promised. 

Maybe there’s a gaping hole in the middle of your boat, maybe the compass and the radio are shot, maybe you’ve been afraid you are going to completely capsize, maybe you’ve been stuck in the sandy sadness and wonder if you will stay in this place forever, and the advice you are given doesn’t seem to help.

According to James, and Thomas’s daughter, these moments aren’t wasted and aren’t to be resented, but have the potential of leading you to something new and beautiful…

…if you can just keep your eyes open to the horizon. 

Question:  Have you experienced this phenomenon of expecting something else, but something better happens?