An Unexpected Afternoon

The merry band of castaways!

The day started out innocent enough. After a full morning of work on governance, we would take an hour-long tour of a local island known for its massive colony of fruit bats. We had no idea what we were in store for, but I guess that is the way most adventures begin.

Napoleon Island, Lake Kivu

Sixteen members of our group of African leaders chose to take the early afternoon excursion across to the cliffside trails of Napoleon Island. The hat-shaped island is home to thousands of giant fruit bats that roost in the trees which cling to the steep terrain of the island. 

We left Kibuye with bright sunshine and a gentle sail through a network of islands.

Circled by hundreds of fruit bats

On the island, we climbed through the forest with our guide to an area where the trees were hanging with bats the size of small cats. The sound of the bats can be heard over the water as you approach the island. It is the sort of scene that you would find in a Hitchcock movie.

Once high on the edge of the hill, the guide startles the bats and in minutes the sky is filled with a tornado of flapping wings and diving bats.  

Rev. Julius Kimani watching the bats 

on the steep trail of Napoleon Island

I can tell you exactly what is going through this guy's mind... 

"Oh no, what in the world was I thinking!"

Darrell and Laura Lee Bustin

Aaron with Rev. Dr. Samuel Ngayihembako

We made our way back to the shore and despite my phobia of birds and bats, I was so thankful for the opportunity to push through my fear and share this experience with our friends and church partners. Of course, I had no idea that the real adventure had only just begun.

The winds had begun to pick up as we set out from Napoleon Island and soon the once calm waters of Lake Kivu were tossing our boat up and down like a child's toy. With each crashing wave, the boat bent and slapped down with a clap. The spray showered us as we gripped the gunwale and braced for each wave. As the boat slammed against the water, seams began to open and soon water was pouring in from below our feet.

It didn't take long to realize that the water was not simply entering the boat from the spray of the waves but from a breach in the hull. The boatman, turned to a nearby island as the water rose towards our knees. It was then that the reality struck us -- We are going to sink!

Our sinking boat

The island that we reached is known locally as "Monkey Island" for the lone buck toothed Vervet monkey that lives on the island with a few local cows. 

To our surprise, the monkey had seen us fighting our way to his private shore and he was actually waiting for us as we climbed out of the waterlogged vessel. He perched himself on a rock and waited until everyone was safely on dry land and only then did he scamper off. It was one of those surreal moments in life when you turn to the people around you and say "Did that really just happen?"

The lonely monkey

Soaking wet, our group helped the captain pull the boat into a calm cove and tipped it onto its side. As a Canadian, I figured that he would be calling for a second boat to come and pick us up and that the adventure was over. I was wrong. Very wrong.

It was soon obvious that this was not a new problem for the captain. Once he and members of our group had bailed the grounded-boat out, he began to patch the holes with a knife and torn fabric. We watched as the sun dropped lower over the distant hills of South Kivu. 

There was certainly lots of nervous laughter, but I am so thankful for our band of castaways. Jeremiah Ngumo, Luka Kuria, Jonathan Mills, Darrell & Laura Lee Bustin, and the intrepid Justin Uwubuntu who disappeared shortly after we beached the boat and found a shepherd who had a better bailer to aid in drying out the boat.

Safe to shore

With the captain satisfied with his patch, we untied the boat and pushed it back out into the water. In the time that it had taken for us to empty and repair the boat, the wind had died down and the white caps had all but disappeared on the Lake, but the damage to the boat had been extensive and within minutes the water had begun to gush back in.

I tightened my lifejacket and put away my camera as the captain turned the boat toward a new island.

Our new island

In the distance, we could see monkey island and the high cliffs of Napoleon Island from the protected cove of our new island, which the captain told us is called Amamoro which means peace in Kinyarwandan. And by the grace of God that is exactly what we encountered. 

On the peaceful shore of Amamoro, we watched the sun dip low toward the water. Our friend, Andre Sibomana, realizing that we were in trouble had organized a rescue boat and we finally were able to establish cell phone contact with the rest of our group.

We reached the jetty of our guesthouse just as the last rays of the day disappeared into the West.

Waiting for rescue

If you are ever going to be shipwrecked on a deserted tropical island, I highly recommend being with a group of Canadian missionaries and African pastors. We laughed, we shared pocket mints, and we problem solved together. It was certainly an experience that I will never forget and I am deeply thankful for these incredible people. But hey, what better way is there to draw you closer to others than the fear of drowning in the treacherous waters of Lake Kivu.

Our friend, Rev. Jeremiah Ngumo, reminded us of Jesus being asleep in the boat as the disciples feared for their lives. No matter what challenges we face in life, we are never alone!

Aaron, Jonathan, Laura Lee, and Darrell