Sailing to the Volcano

We didn't do camp when I was growing up, but sailing to Taal was perhaps similar.

Taal volcano is an island in a lake, on an island in a lake, on an island in a lake (the Pacific) - a third-order island, for any into fractals. It was hissing and bubbling as several of us high-school Sea Scouts, feeling our oats, rode a jeepney to the Manila volcanologists' office (maybe at our parents' insistence). Taal was active, and worrisome because of frequent eruptions and proximity to population centers. With looks of concern, we were informed that, while they wouldn't stop us, this was not a particularly inspired idea.

The outer lake is ideal for sailing, and we had old heavy wooden tubs, rumored to have come over on the Mayflower, to scrape and putty and paint, with daggerboards and battens and sheets. We learned to "hike out" (possibly as near heaven as one can get on the water), and to right the boat after inevitably capsizing, even when the boat "turned turtle" with the mast pointing down.

I remember tacking out to Taal, climbing the moonscaped slope of the main cone, seeing areas hot and venting, then looking down into the menacing crater and the small island inside. Probably the greater danger we faced was when the wind picked up and the lake got rough beyond our skill level and we wondered, for a bit, if we would make it home. Later, a peaceful night sail, and lights of fishing boats in the distance; then back on land, trying to fall asleep with the bunk bed wallowing and bobbing in the dark.

There were undoubtedly adults involved somewhere in all this, but I am blissfully unable to remember them.

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A few kilometers away from Taal, and forty years later, two batches of blind students are going to camp this summer, with the same sorts of "sailing to the volcano" fears and excitement.

The blind [disciple-maker, successfully] leading the blind

Their memories of camp will be very different, but almost certainly more life-altering. For many, this will be the first time they have ever left their village or town, the result of a sometimes sensitive negotiation with them or their parents (watch here). 

There will be an introductory talent show, and motivational academic activities (braille reading/writing, abacus, and spelling contests), as well as times for sharing and prayer. For some, this will be the first time to throw a ball, swim, experience a swing, run. This may be the first realization that there are other blind kids just like themselves, but with hope and joy and purpose (watch here), and that their life "can count" (my own father's great cry). For some, this will be the start of new life, or the dawning of God's call on them. Would you pray that God would do His work during these weeks, and guide the blind disciple-makers (many of whom are themselves the fruit of this camp) as they listen and engage?

This transformative, milestone event for up to 160 blind kids from mostly indigent families all over the Philippines is a huge, costly ... and eminently worthwhile endeavor. If you'd like to help toward this or similar efforts, you can do it here (but you need to do it soon, as the team there is finalizing how many they can bring for the second session).

Here is a recent unsolicited, roughly-translated comment from a former RBI camper, that pretty well sums things up:

Thanks for your partnership.  If you know of someone else who might be interested in this work, would you please