As a sailor in the U.S. Navy I was assigned to the USS Banner—a small, 180-foot vessel carrying 82 men.  I distinctly remember my first trip to sea.  Perhaps the sea wasn’t all that rough, but it was rough enough to greatly impress me.  It was night, and I was lying in my bunk down in the hold of the ship.  I could feel each wave as it passed.  The ship would climb the wave, teeter on the crest for a moment, and then the bow would slam down as the ship headed into the trough.  While teetering on the crest the ship would make horrible popping sounds, as if rivets were being snapped.  Lying there in my bunk it seemed that the ship would surely break in two.  I visualized the ship balanced on the fulcrum of the wave with both the bow and stern completely out of the water.  I’m sure things weren’t that extreme, but it certainly felt that way.  I had to talk to myself to keep myself from being frightened.  I could think of nothing worse than to suddenly find myself in a ship wreak in the middle of a stormy ocean.

It’s perhaps because of that frightening night in the bunk that I’ve taken note of others’ stories about near maritime disasters.  Following is a collection of the three that most impress me.

“Alma Sonne (who served as a General Authority) was my stake president when I was born in Logan, Utah.  I had my mission interview with Elder Sonne.  In those days all prospective missionaries were interviewed by a General Authority.  He was a great influence in my life.

“When Alma was a young man, he had a friend named Fred who was less active in the Church.  They had numerous discussions about serving a mission, and eventually Alma Sonne convinced Fred to prepare and serve.  They were both called to the British Mission.  At the conclusion of their missions, Elder Sonne, the mission secretary, made the travel arrangements for their return to the United States.  He booked passage on the Titanic for himself, Fred, and four other missionaries who had also completed their missions.

“When it came time to travel, for some reason Fred was delayed.  Elder Sonne canceled all six bookings to sail on the new luxury liner on its maiden voyage and booked passage on a ship that sailed the next day.  The four missionaries, who were excited about traveling on the Titanic, expressed their disappointment.  Elder Sonne’s answer paraphrased the account of Joseph and his brothers in Egypt recorded in Genesis:  “How can we return to our families and the lad be not with us?”  (Gen. 44:30-31, 34).  He explained to his companions that they all came to England together and they all should return home together.  Elder Sonne subsequently learned of the Titanic’s sinking and gratefully said to his friend Fred, ‘You saved my life.’  Fred replied, ‘No, by getting me on this mission, you saved my life.’  All of the missionaries thanked the Lord for preserving them.”  (Quentin L. Cook, The Ensign, November 2011, pg. 105).

Wilford Woodruff—“After spending two years and a half in New England and Canada, getting the Saints out, I started back with the last lot, about a hundred from Boston.  We landed in Pittsburg at dusk. We were anxious not to stay there, but to go on to St. Louis.  I saw a steamer making steam ready to go out.  I went to the captain and asked him how many passengers he had. ‘Three hundred and fifty.’  ‘Could you take another hundred?’  ‘Yes.’  The Spirit said to me, ‘Don’t go aboard that steamer, you nor your company.’  All right, said I.  I had learned something about that still, small voice.  I did not go aboard that steamer, but waited till the next morning.  In thirty minutes after that steamer left, it took fire.  It had ropes instead of wheel chains, and they could not go ashore.  It was a dark night and not a soul was saved.  If I had not obeyed the influence of that monitor within me, I would have been there.

“I have been governed and controlled by the Spirit.  I have been acquainted with this Spirit.  It was not the blow of trumpets nor thunder and lightning; it was the still, small voice to me.”

Wilhelm Gustloff –“On the night of January 30, 1945, Latter-day Saints Margarete Hellwig and her daughter Gudrun fought their way through the crowds that thronged the piers of the Baltic Sea port and secured passage on the Wilhelm Gustloff.  Along with thousands of other German women and children, they had fled their home in East Prussia, leaving husbands and sons to hold off the Soviet army as it advanced relentlessly toward the heart of Germany.

 

“Originally designed as a hospital ship, the Wilhelm Gustloff had been converted into a rescue transport vessel to carry the Germans on the Eastern front across the Baltic Sea to Germany and safety.  The ship was meant to carry fewer than 2,000 passengers.  On the night Margarete and Gudrun boarded, the vessel groaned under the weight of more than 10,000.

“The Hellwigs were lucky to have made it aboard the ship, and their good fortune continued—they found a place to sit next to the warm engine room, deep within the ship.  Just as they settled in, a loudspeaker announced that the ship was overloaded and that the crew was looking for volunteers to disembark before they set sail.  At that moment, Margarete received a clear impression from the Holy Ghost.  She recalled:

“It seemed as if somebody wanted to push me out.  I told my daughter, ‘I’m not staying in here, I’ve got to get out!’  She answered, ‘Mommy, it’s so warm, let’s stay here!’  ‘No, I’m not staying here, I have to get out!’  I was so very frightened.

“Margarete followed her impression, and the two found themselves once again on shore.  They located a smaller ship that was departing at the same time and were soon at sea.

“At about 9 p.m. the Wilhelm Gustloff was struck by Soviet torpedoes, and from the deck of her ship, Margarete watched it sink into the Baltic.  In what is still the most deadly maritime disaster in history, approximately 9,000 people lost their lives.  Had she ignored the prompting to get off the ship, Margarete and her daughter would have been among them.  Mother and daughter arrived safely in Berlin, where they were taken in by Church members.  Both survived the war.”

(BYU Magazine, winter 2010, pgs. 53-54, Steadfast German Saints, by Nathan N. Waite)