Long before drones, high powered spotting scopes, advanced telecommunications, and other modern wizardry, the search for whales for commercial gain was no easy task. Perched in crows nests 100 feet above a rolling and pitching deck, sailors scanned the horizon for days on end looking for the telltale spout of a surfaced whale. It must have been an exhillerating experience, after days of seeing nothing but endless swells, to spot a plume of white mist shimmering against the deep blue of an endless sea, and then sound the cry, “There she blows!"

     With that pronouncement, the ship's crew sprang into action, and the chase was on. Now, the sighting of a whale was one thing, the actual hunt and its conclusion was something entirely different. Most whaling ventures of old ended in failure simply because whales, the largest animals on earth by far, are almost microscopic when compared to an ocean. They stay on the surface only long enough to regenerate their oxygen supplies, and then it’s down into the depths again. They can dive over 3000 feet and stay submerged for an hour at a time, all the while moving in any direction at speeds up to 15 mph. Finding them once was a difficult challenge, finding them again and again was even more so. How deep would they dive? When and where would they surface?

     Now, why this story about whaling? Well, once you’ve read “Moby Dick,” almost everything in life can be seen as some sort of struggle against one leviathan or another. It’s been a month since we last posted a mission update because only now do we feel like we’ve “surfaced" following our nasty encounter with the leviathan of COVID-19. We were over the worst aspects of the illness within two weeks, but the two weeks afterwards were nearly as bad as we battled one random return of symptoms after another - night sweats, vertigo, coughing, congestion, fatigue, and so forth. We’re sorry we’ve been out of contact and thankful for your inquiries and prayers while we sounded the depths. We are grateful to be on the surface again.

     When we first arrived in New York, we were assigned temporary housing in a studio apartment located on the second floor of an old home built on the Martin Harris farm. This farm is an historic site for our church as its owner in the early 1800s, Martin Harris, was a prosperous man who served a key role in translating and printing the Book of Mormon. He mortgaged 100 acres of his farm to pay for printing the first 5000 copies of the book and though considered a folly at the time, his investment opened the way for the world to receive the message of the restored gospel of Jesus Christ. Whether folly or not, each may decide, but that original printing of 5000 copies in English has now blossomed to 190 million copies in over 115 languages. The prophet, Joseph Smith, once said, “ . . .  the Book of Mormon [is] the most correct of any book on earth, and the keystone of our religion, and a man would get nearer to God by abiding by its precepts, than by any other book.” We are here on mission to support the distribution of this book and the message of hope it contains. We invite any and all to read it. It has, and continues, to change our lives for the good.

     Now that our strength and energy have returned, we’re back in the traces and glad to be pulling our load again. As physical facility missionaries, our days are full as we work to keep the sites safe, in good working order, and looking their best. We clean, paint, weed, mow, plant, shovel, excavate, repair, install, and just about anything else you can imagine to keep everything running and ensure visitors have a positive experience. Every day is a new experience for us as we learn new things and serve with people and at places we’ve quickly grown to love. We wouldn’t trade places with anyone!         

     Several weeks ago, we were given a whirlwind tour and training for using some heavy equipment, and then, last week, we had the opportunity to put our training to use. Sister Collins drove a dump truck while I drove a John Deere tractor out to one of the sites to pick up some old picnic tables that were no longer serviceable. When we returned to our property to unload them, I mixed up the dump truck’s tailgate release lever with the lift mechanism for the bed and ended up dumping the truck’s tailgate along with the picnic tables! Fortunately, one of our fellow missionaries, Elder Black, was nearby and lent a hand in putting everything back together. Dump trucks, backhoes, farm tractors, zero turn lawn mowers, and large trailers are all new to us, but, slowly but surely, we’re learning how to operate them. We’re a long way from proficient, but we’re making good headway.

     One of our consistent tasks, now that the growing season is in full swing, is to cut grass. Surprisingly, this has turned out to be a great date activity for Dottie and I. We load up a trailer each week with two zero-turn mowers and then spend a day racing each other across open fields as we bounce and spin our way through the tall grass. We don’t talk much, but we sure make a lot of funny faces at each other and wave a lot as we enjoy our time together. 

     During one mowing episode, Dottie got a little too close to a 300 pound well cover and spun it off its header. No significant damage was done, but we now had to figure out how to replace the cover. Our new-found experience with heavy equipment came in handy. We replaced the front bucket of our John Deere with a pair of forks, enjoyed a 30 minute open cab drive through the beautiful farm land and winding roads of New York, and then hoisted the cover back in place.

     Whether driving heavy equipment or trying to track down replacement materials for old buildings, every day brings something new. We recently completed a work order at the threshing barn on the Smith family farm, one of the sites we help maintain. We installed new ropes to assist with opening and closing the barn doors. We had never whipped the ends of sisal rope before, but now we can. That’s what life on a mission is like. Our efforts have given us a better appreciation for the expression, “Faith in every footstep.” Each day we prayerfully take one step forward into the unknown and then trust that everything will turn out well. It usually does.