Grateful in Grytviken

Grateful in Grytviken

Today, the day after Christmas, we anchored at Grytviken a tiny outpost of civilization on the southeast coast of South Georgia Island. Grytviken (Grit-veeken) is known for two things, the place Sir Ernest Shackleton finally found help after his horrific crossing of the Southern ocean in a 22 foot sailboat and as a whaling station that helped to scour the ocean of the mighty whales of this region.

Much of the place is now in ruins and many buildings have been removed because of an asbestos hazard, but the try works still stand, rusting away along with a few grounded, stove in chase boats. There is a museum (quite good) that tells the story of whaling, the life of the island and the surrounding seas and Shackleton's epic story.

The most compelling building in town is the stark white, steepled church set back from the bustle of the shoreline against the green hills. After we had hiked the hills, paid homage at Shackleton's grave, walked through the decaying town and seen the museum, many of us retired to the church for a Christmas service.

I walked in a little late to the angelic sounds of Ave Maria. The small church's pews were lined with passengers in red parkas and bared heads. It felt very homey and welcoming with Christmas garlands and candles. Several passengers took turns coming to the front and telling the story of Christmas in three parts interspersed with Christmas carols in which we all joined in. I am not religious, but while signing the carols I remembered back to singing with my family as a kid and how much joy I got from our times together. I choked up at each new carol.

Then came the Prayerof Saint Francis and I could clearly see the huddled whalers of the past, far from their homes and loved ones working in wretched conditions at the end of the earth and I clearly saw the comfort brought by such words...

Lord, make me an instrument of thy peace.
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
Where there is injury, pardon;
Where there is doubt, faith;
Where there is despair, hope;
Where there is darkness, light;
Where there is sadness, joy.

O divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek
To be consoled as to console,
To be understood as to understand,
To be loved as to love;
For it is in giving that we receive;
It is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
It is in dying to self that we are born to eternal life.

I imagined Shackleton, after months of desperate struggle offering thanks in this church and how grateful he must have been for his Salvation.

Then a young Irish boy, one of the passengers, came forward to give a traditional Irish blessing...

May the road rise up to meet you. May the wind always be at your back. May the sun shine warm upon your face,and rains fall soft upon your fields.And until we meet again, May God hold you in the palm of His hand.

We ended the service with the Young Explorers, myself included, coming forward and singing Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer.

Before heading back to the boat I had a moment alone on the shore where I thought how grateful I was. To my Mom for all the wonderful Christmas memories of a decorated tree and the singing of carols, to my Dad for the sense of adventure he gave me and to my departed Uncle Joe for giving me a taste for international travel. To my wife for her generous spirit that encouraged me to take this trip and to all my friends who believe in me. I am Grateful in Grytviken.