Suez sat at the site of another marvel, a marvel of engineering called the Suez Canal, which allowed ships to pass through the desert from the Mediterranean Sea to the Red Sea. The town of Suez sat adjacent to the southern entrance to the canal.
From the train station, Sam made his way to the waterfront. He purchased a second-class ticket aboard a Turkish tramp steamer bound for Aden at the southern end of the Red Sea. The man in the shipping office shrugged when Sam asked how long the trip would take. “It depends on many things,” he told Sam. “Cargo can take a long time or a short time to load, and there may be passengers to drop off or pick up at any number of ports. Thank Allah that it is not time for the pilgrims to embark for Jeddah, or seven or eight hundred more passengers would be joining you. Also, it is not unknown to stop for ship repairs.”
When Sam looked at the ship, he understood why it might be required to stop for repairs. The vessel looked run-down, and rust streaked her hull. As he strolled down to board the steamer, Sam realized he had quite an adventure ahead of him. Crates and barrels and boxes of dates and spices were being loaded into the ship’s hold. A parade of passengers, including brightly dressed Africans, Arabs, and Indians on their way back to India boarded the ship. Just as Sam boarded, he caught sight of two European men. The older man wore a black suit and wide-brimmed black hat, while the younger man wore white. Sam waved to them, knowing that he would have plenty of time to find out who they were once they set sail.
Soon the steamer cast off from the dock and pulled away from her moorings, beginning the fourteen-hundred-mile journey down the long, narrow Red Sea to Aden. At its widest point, the Red Sea was about 220 miles wide. As Sam stood on deck, the two European men approached him. The older man thrust out his hand to shake Sam’s, announcing, “I am the Reverend Thomas Valpy French, and this is my companion, Mr. Alexander Maitland. Glad to make your acquaintance.”
Sam’s mouth dropped open. Standing in front of him was the former Anglican bishop of Lahore, Pakistan. Sam knew of him by reputation. Mr. French had left England in 1850 for India, where he served as a missionary with the Church Missionary Society. He founded St. John’s College at Agra in India before being posted to Lahore, where he was appointed first bishop over a large diocese that included Lahore as well as the Punjab and northwestern India. He had also founded the Lahore Divinity College and supervised the translation of the Bible into the Hindustani and Pashto languages.
As the ship steamed down the Gulf of Suez, the heat became intense. Sam found that sitting on the poop deck was the coolest place on the vessel, as did Mr. French and Mr. Maitland. Sam chatted with Mr. French, who explained that bad health had forced him to return to England in 1887. He was now feeling much better and at age sixty-six was determined to start a mission station in Muscat, Oman. Sam told him about the Arabian Mission and his plans to meet up with Jim Cantine in Aden to find a suitable location to establish it. Thomas listened and encouraged Sam in his missionary endeavor.
Two days after setting out from Suez, the ship dropped anchor off the city of Jeddah. Sam climbed down from the steamer into a small sambuk (local sailing boat) to take the mile-and-a-half trip to shore. The coast around Jeddah consisted of barren low hills, but the city itself was beautiful. There were many two-storied houses, and each house was decorated with richly carved latticework. The bazaar was crowded and abuzz with the noise of people bargaining for the best price with stall owners. While in Jeddah, Sam visited the Tomb of Eve near the Mecca Gate.
In the late afternoon Sam caught a sambuk back to the ship, where he found Thomas French resting on the poop deck. The bishop explained to Sam how he had gone ashore with two Arabic Bibles hidden in his coat pockets and had found opportunities to give short addresses sharing the gospel. One mullah, or Muslim cleric, had even asked for a copy of the Bible, and Thomas had handed one over to him. Sam was impressed by the man’s courage. The Bible was forbidden in Jeddah, and a person openly possessing one could be attacked and even killed by a mob. But Thomas had taken two with him, and not only that, he had preached openly in the streets. Sam chuckled to himself as he imagined Thomas French preaching. Thomas spoke classical Arabic, not the everyday Arabic the residents of the city spoke, and Sam wondered whether those who heard him had understood anything he said.
From Jeddah, the steamer headed in a southwesterly direction across the Red Sea to Suakin in Sudan. Suakin was an ancient and run-down port. There Sam encountered a Christian man, Dr. Harpur, and several helpers who were involved in relief work caring for about sixty orphans in a large tent. On Sunday, while they were still docked in Suakin, Sam attended the communion service that Thomas French held for the relief workers at the home of the Belgian consul.
From Suakin, the ship steamed south for a day and a half through rough waters along the western shore of the Red Sea. The pitching and rolling of the vessel made Sam seasick. Even after the ship had docked in Massawa and he had gone ashore, Sam could feel the effects. Massawa was now part of the newly established Italian colony of Eritrea, and the Italians were busy consolidating their control over the region by constucting palatial buildings throughout the port. Cafes and trattorias abounded along the seaside and were frequented by Italians and people from all over Europe.
On the outskirts of Massawa was a Swedish mission house, which Sam visited with Thomas. The mission was staffed by two Swedish pastors and two women. Sam was impressed by the way they cared for and fed over eight hundred starving people a day with supplies they received from Sweden and the United States.
From Massawa, the steamer headed back across the Red Sea to the eastern shore and the port of Al Hudaydah, where they anchored two miles off the coast and had to be ferried ashore by sambuk. Al Hudaydah had many active bazaars and was loosely under the control of the Turks.
Later that night Thomas told Sam how he had met a high-ranking Turkish officer in Al Hudaydah who sat and listened as Thomas preached. “He seemed struck more by my message, I trust, than by me. When he retreated, he sent down a handsome and really useful walking stick to me, which I felt bound to recognize by making my way up, as best my wearied feet could, to his fine room at the top of the steps. The officer accepted a copy of the entire Bible and kissed my hands with an affectionate transport of gratitude,” Thomas recounted. He then added, “Now and again one gets little proofs of God’s blessing and helpful countenance in work that cannot help being often discouraging.”
Sam nodded. By now he knew firsthand how challenging and discouraging sharing the gospel with Muslim Arabs could be. Yet his enthusiasm to see the Arabian Mission established was not diminished.
From Al Hudaydah the steamer headed south through the straits of Bab-el-Mandeb at the entrance to the Red Sea, passing the island of Perim to port and into the Gulf of Aden. Fifteen days after setting out from Suez, the Turkish tramp steamer reached Aden.
Chapter 7
Aden
The first thing that struck Sam as he disembarked ship in Aden was the large number of British soldiers marching about. But this was to be expected. Thomas French, who had visited Aden several times before, explained that Aden was important to the British, who originally took control of the port city to stop pirate attacks on passing British vessels headed to and from India. Over the years Aden had become an important stopping point for ships taking on coal and provisions.
Sam soon began to appreciate the efficient way the British ran things. His baggage was handled promptly through customs, and no one put out his hand expecting a bribe, or basheesh, as it was called, to stamp his passport. Sam helped Mr. French and his assistant, Alexander Maitland, through the customs and immigration process before hurrying to the roped-off area where he could see Jim Cantine waving at him. Sam and Jim shook hands, and Jim called a local boy over to carry Sam’s bags.
Jim was brimming with information. “It’s been challenging here,” he began. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve rented us a small house in Crater Town. It’s a bit cramped but right in the thick of things. I can’t wait until you meet Mr. Brunton, an agent of the British and Foreign Bible Society. He’s been very kind to me. I’ve also been over to visit Reverend Gardner at the Scottish Mission at Sheikh Othman. He has a very interesting setup, and he took me to see Ion Keith-Falconer’s gravesite.”
“Do you think the Arabian Mission could take root here?” Sam asked.
Jim grimaced. “I’m not sure. I’ve been talking to Mr. Brunton about it and praying as I walk around. The big problem is the British presence here. They have everything sewn up. Nothing happens without their permission, and they say it’s nearly impossible to get permission to travel inland. British checkpoints are set up on every road out of Aden. Besides that, a good percentage of the people here are from Somalia. I think we want to concentrate more on the local Arab population, don’t you?”
Sam nodded, a little distracted by a passing young boy bent nearly horizontal carrying what looked like an impossibly high pile of dates on his back. Then he said, “We’ll have to see. In the meantime we should learn all we can from the missionaries here and keep up with our language studies.” He wanted to add, “and avoid catching malaria,” thinking of how Ion had survived only ten months after setting foot in Aden, but he didn’t. Sam knew that he had come to Arabia to labor, and to die if necessary. It was part of the commitment he had made when he signed the Student Volunteer Movement pledge four years before, and he had never doubted the ultimate price he might be asked to pay for doing so.
“Do you have any mail with you?” Jim asked.
“No,” Sam replied. “Nothing caught up with me while I was in Cairo. Have you had any news of home?”
“No news, but I wrote to Kamil to see whether he would be willing to join us,” Jim said. “I think he could start work among the Bedouins immediately, and we could support his efforts and learn from him. What do you think?”
“It sounds like a great idea,” Sam replied. “Of course, I haven’t met him, but everything you’ve told me makes me think he would be a great partner for our work. I hope he can come.”
That afternoon the two young Americans set out to see the rest of Aden.
“This place is amazing,” Jim said as they walked along. “The history is unbelievable. There are layers and layers of history under these buildings. Some say it is the place where Cain and Abel were buried, and there are seven Jewish synagogues here. The Jews have been in and around Aden for hundreds of years. Many of them are gifted artisans and craftsmen.”
Sam and Jim wound their way through the streets of Crater Town. The city of Aden was built around a dormant volcano that formed a peninsula connected to the mainland by an isthmus. Crater Town was so named because it was located in the crater of the old volcano. Sam and Jim walked up to the northeastern wall of the crater, where steps were cut directly into the black rock.
“Are you up for a climb?” Jim asked. “This leads up to Jebel Shem-San, the highest point in Aden. It’s a zigzagging path to the top, where there’s a signal station for the shipping. It’s quite a climb, but from up there you get a wonderful view of Steamer Point and the Gulf of Aden.”
“Let’s get going,” Sam said with a smile. “There’s nothing like a challenge!”
The two men climbed up the steep crater slope, slipping on the sand and lava fragments. They stopped several times to catch their breath before reaching the top. As Jim had promised, the view was magnificent. Sam could see the various areas of Aden stretched out below. Across the harbor he could see the barren hills of the mainland.
