• Skip to primary navigation
  • Skip to main content

Great Christian Adventure

Paul & Clare Woodington

  • About
  • Blog
  • Photos
  • Videos
  • Newsletter
  • Donate
  • Contact
  • Show Search
Hide Search

Flying

The Call

Paul and Clare · Mar 31, 2019 · Leave a Comment

1938 – 2019

Remote living has been a part of a MAF family’s life for many years. From poor communication to lack of doctors, pilots and their families often work, live, and survive on their own at times in a seemingly helpless environment. But, there is one thing we all dread, the call. The call from someone far away to say a much-loved one is dying. It crosses the line from the survival of self to fear for that rock on the other side of the world we call family. That rock which enabled you to continue all these years alone is starting to crumble. We cannot stop, but how can we stay?

That is my story, receiving the call. The day, Wednesday 23rd January 2019 (UK Time), Thursday (PNG Time), could not have started out better. The tropical weather was unseasonably fresh. Heading from Wewak in the northern jungles of Papua New Guinea, with a new pilot under supervision we flew our precious load of missionaries and local people to Tari. The sharp peaks of the Porgera mine site shone brightly through low clouds in the crisp morning air. I could almost feel the fresh Lagaip River with its splashing waters sending spears of light towards the plane. At ten thousand feet above sea level, we passed practically close enough to touch to the Tari gap before descending into the breathtaking view of the Western province and taking in the spectacular sight of Mount Bosavi in the distance. But, we were not alone.

For the first time, I watched all of MAF’s Cessna Caravan fleet arrive in Tari together. We connected the Eastern Highlands of Hagen with the far Western Province around Rumginae, meeting together in the Southern Highlands, we completed the picture by connecting the Sepik Plains of Wewak to the rest of the world. Then my phone rang.

Unusually, my wife was calling from Wewak where I left her that morning. Tari is one of the few places in PNG I could receive a call, so I was doubly surprised. She had received a text message that my mum had suffered a massive stroke. “Mum had massive stroke…. Come home immediately…Not much time left….Hours at the most.” Oh no!

As we descended into Heathrow on Saturday at 5:20 am, she died. We were too late. We had flown non-stop Tari-Tekin-Telefomin-Wewak-Hagen-Goroka-Port Moresby-Brisbane-Bangkok-London without drawing breath, without thinking, but living in the hope that we could at least spend a few more minutes with my mum.

My dad and brother spent a three-day vigil at her bedside. I knew it was all over when Clare received a message, “Go home.” This meant they were no longer at the hospital; the vigil had finished; it was over.

My mum was a great Christian woman following in the footsteps of her own mother. My dad asked me to speak at the funeral, and I include the eulogy which I gladly talked to a packed 14th Century Church two weeks later.

We are back in PNG now, two months later, missing that great rock.

EULOGY
On behalf of my Dad, I thank you all for coming to celebrate the life of my mum.

And welcome to all of you too to all the Angels around us celebrating one of their own coming home. My mum sits with Jesus in heaven. When she arrived in heaven, she said, “I have fought the good fight. I have won the race.” And Jesus replied, “Welcome, good and faithful servant.”

Then my mum said, “What is all this fuss about? I don’t want all this. Where is the back door?”

Because my mum is a humble person, she had humble beginnings, and she stayed humble all her life.

WAR – HOTWELLS
She had humble beginnings. My mum slept at night under the stairs in a small apartment in Hotwells, alongside Bristol Docks, while Hitler’s bombs poured out of the sky overhead. She was one of five siblings. Her two elder sisters were evacuated to the country, while her younger sister and brother were born after the war.

My mum went to school at St. Georges, Brandon Hill and later Portway Girls School. She enjoyed competition swimming at Hot Wells swimming baths with all her siblings, and her favourite subject at school would have been History.

At fifteen she held a job at Woolworths. She loved that job but her dad, my grandad and mariner, told her, “get a proper job, my girl.” Woolworths was not the job grandad had in mind for his daughter. At that time, the two Bristol employers were tobacco and printing, Wills’ and Mardon’s. So, she got a job at Mardons, met my dad, who drove her home one night after a social and married her two years later.

1938

AND THEY LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER
For my Grandmother living in Hotwells, Hanham was at the end of the earth. It was where earth ceased to be flat. It was at the end of the Number nine bus route. But, that’s where they wanted to live, in a cottage in Church Road at the end of Memorial Road. Money was scare, but they both worked two jobs, and for my mum’s part she worked in the Gaumont Picture House in Bristol. We say, “movies” now, but back then they said, “the pictures”. She sold ice cream and drinks at the interval. Her brother often wanted her job for the night, he wanted to see the latest film.

Getting married often means we need to change a bit. My mum often talked of my dad coming to work with sandwiches his mum made: Cake Sandwiches! A leftover from the war rationing. After they had been married for a while, my dad said, “How long is this going on for?” “What do you mean?”, my mum said. “Eating dinners every day.” My mum, following in her own mum’s footsteps, cooked meat and two veg dinners each evening. My dad was still looking out for cake sandwiches.

I was born in the BMI, Bristol Maternity Hospital, in 1959, two years after they were married. We then moved to Bourne Road in Kingswood for three years after which we moved in with my grandmother for a while waiting for my mum and dad’s new Bull house to be completed in Hesding Close. This is where my brother Martyn was born. A few years later we moved into and ran a Hardware shop opposite Hanham Common before settling into Abbots Road in 1974 where they have lived for over 45 years.

Mum on the SS Great Britain

MARDON’s Through and Through
Except for a small diversion to work for Fry’s chocolate factory for a few months, my mum was faithful to Mardon’s all her life. She started on the factory floor checking cigarette packets for quality, moved her way up to the director’s restaurant, and at 50, she was surprised that Mardon’s sent her to Bath University for a touch typing course. She never thought she would attend a University.

Approaching 70 she said, “They don’t know how old I am you know? The girls in work asked me to a Hen Party!” She had never been to a Hen party in her life! I later wrote to the CEO of Alcan Packaging, the parent company of Mardon’s and told him my mother had worked for Mardon’s for 55 years. He had no idea but would have an article published about her in the company magazine. If that happened, she did not say. She would have hidden it from everyone.

Arnhem Land

CHRISTIAN LIFE
It says in my bible that a Christian life will be full of ups and downs. The Lord will allow difficulties in our lives, and we will be able to overcome them.

However, mum not only had challenges in her own Christian life, but she also seemed to live and worry about everyone else’s too.

In my Bible there is a Christian Order to prioritise our life:

  1. GOD first:
  2. Love the Lord with all your heart, with all your soul, with all our strength, and all our mind.
  3. My mum prayed all the time. For her family, her sibling’s family, her friends.
2017
  1. WIFE: After putting God First, the next priority is your spouse.
  2. My mum made good her promise to my dad in 1957. She loved him and looked after him in sickness and health.
  3. At my Wedding, my dad tells me she told him she had the best husband in the world.
Bristol Suspension Bridge, overlooking Hotwells where mum was born
  1. MOTHER: Once she had God sorted and my dad, the Bible says to care for your children next.
  2. My mum was a dedicated mother to us, two sons. We never went without. She sacrificed everything for her family. She would march me up the road to catch the Number Nine bus into town. She was going to purchase a dress for herself, but we came back with a pair of shoes for me.
  3. My Mum held the bar up high. Martyn and I struggle to attain that bar for our selves or our families. A what a blessing she was to us.
All of us
  1. OTHERS: Once she had God sorted and my dad and her boys, the Bible says to care for others next.
  2. When I would come home and talk to her, she had endless stories of other peoples troubles. My mum would pray and care for everyone around her. She would visit bereaved people who had no one else, taking them out for lunch and making sure they were all right. She looked out and worried about her sisters and brothers, and for their children.

My mum loved the Lord with all her heart, all her soul, all her strength and all her mind. My Bible says you can only do that through another person. When you help a person in need, it is as if you were assisting Jesus Himself. And that what my mum did best of all. She worried and cared for all sorts of people.

SHE GOT AROUND
But, she got around. Once Martyn and I left home, my mum and dad went to places all over the world. She attended Lee and Claire’s wedding in San Francisco. They visited my brother when he was on a training course in California. She and my dad went around the Mediterranean on a ship with Hilda and Ray, and later with Pauline and David. She and my dad even visited me in New York.

Mum in Gangan with Andrew

Once she and my dad came to visit us at MAF in the remote outback in Australia. Once there, I flew her in my MAF plane still further into the outback and then we walked together for one kilometer to an Aboriginal Village. There, she met an Aboriginal by the name of Andrew. She could not believe she was talking to a remote Aboriginal so far away. She said many times, “I cannot believe the places I have been to.”

Devon 2017

FAILING
In the last year or so, she was failing a bit, especially after suffering a small stroke fourteen months ago.

Last year, Clare and I took my mum and dad around looking at other retirement accommodation. One place was a very upmarket apartment. I said to mum, “do you think you could live here?” “Oh Yes,” she said. “But I am not worthy of such a place.”

That sums my mum up. She is more than worthy, and she’s not holding her head up right now, she has it bowed down saying, “I don’t deserve to be in such a wonderful place.” She is in heaven with Jesus, with a new body in a new place, a place much better than that beautiful apartment we visited.

FOUGHT THE GOOD FIGHT
When she arrived in Heaven, the Lord Jesus Said, “Well done, good and faithful servant.”
for my Mum, “Fought the good fight, she finished the race; she kept the faith.”

“In-store for her is the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, will award her.”

I just wish she would stop looking for the back door!

60th Wedding Anniversary
Mum and Dad with Tristan
Mum and Dad with Imogen and Kiri
Mum and Aaron

In Loving Memory of my Wonderful Mum
Jacqueline Adeline Woodington
1938 – 2019

Is my life worth it?

Paul and Clare · Jul 24, 2018 · 1 Comment

Saving a life is a big part of being a MAF pilot. Delivering food for the hungry or airlifting the sick and dying from a jungle airstrip; the MAF pilot who takes the opportunity can make a real difference. But, these opportunities include tough decisions. Medical Evacuation (Medevac) calls are vague at best. Details about the rescue often sketchy, and when the financial cost is high, the decision to cancel a day’s flying program to divert to a place far away with no certainty of a good outcome is a heavy burden.

A recent decision caused me significant anxiety. I fly for MAF in the jungle of Papua New Guinea. This day I was flying my favourite bush plane, a Cessna Caravan. The program for the day was full. Due to recent severe weather, many people needed my help. I had departed Lumi, a remote airstrip in PNG’s coastal highlands bordering the Sepik with nine patients on-board flying to Vanimo hospital when I received a call over the radio. A teenage boy had burnt himself at Busilmin. His condition was critical. Could I help?

I asked for more information. Is the boy ready at the airstrip? How bad is he? Is his condition life threatening? What is the weather like at Busilmin? All I received back was, “Critical in Busilmin. Cannot get through on the radio. Telefomin weather is dark.”

Busilmin is near the West Papua border of PNG in the Central Highlands. Located at an altitude of 5,100ft, Busilmin has a very steep airstrip with an 11% incline. The airstrip, hidden in a cul-de-sac at the end of a blind-end valley is only visible from directly above. In bad weather, Busilmin is a strip to avoid.

Busilmin is an hour’s flight into the highlands. If I was to go ahead with this rescue, I needed more fuel. I would have to cancel the rest of the day’s flying program and make the round trip with no passengers onboard. Ideally, the plane would be full all the time, but not this flight. The problem with a medevac is that it cannot be pre-planned.

And then there was the weather. It is one thing to reach Busilmin and rescue the boy, but I would need to deliver him to Telefomin hospital where the weather was reportedly unstable. I would be heading off with no reassuring weather report and no certainty of rescuing him… or even landing. I didn’t know if the patient was prepared. I didn’t know how long I could wait when I got there. I wasn’t sure if I would get home. The stakes were high.

The first thing I did was to pray, asking God for wisdom and assurance. With God’s help, I decided to go ahead with the plan. I landed at Vanimo, offloaded my patients, filled up the fuel tanks, and set off to save this boy. I had concerns it might all be for nothing. A lot of ducks would need to line up for this trip to succeed.

And then it got worse. Thirty minutes into the flight I got the call telling me Telefomin was in heavy rain. More rain was coming in fast from the East and moving towards Busilmin. The hospital at Telefomin was not my only option; there are other hospitals. Wewak hospital, for instance, where I am based. But, Telefomin is close to Busilmin, and the weather at Telefomin gives me a good idea of what the weather is like there. Horrible was the conclusion. But, this is the tropics. The climate in the tropics can often change very quickly. So, I continued with that hope.

I approached the Highlands and saw the picture was terrible. A significant amount of cloud had built up in front of me. To the far left, I could see the vast rain clouds pouring down over Telefomin. I could not see much else, just a few breaks in the clouds below. Slowly, I descended through those breaks into the mountain passes.

The GPS system on the plane is near useless in the mountains. Flying in a straight line is not possible. I needed to navigate visually along the valleys. All around me cloud hindered my path. The clouds covered the mountaintops. But, along with the valley, I continued, descending lower and lower. I needed to find the Sepik Gorge River. Seeing this would lead me to Munbil airstrip, and from there I could navigate up the valley to Busilmin. But where was it?

I almost gave up searching for the river. Time for a quick prayer. And, as is usually the case after a quick talk with God, He shows me the way. I was so relieved when the river appeared through a small opening in the cloud below. Now, all I needed to do was follow the river and find Munbil. I continued to fly between layers of cumulous, spotting small glimpses of the river as I went. At where I thought Munbil would be I crossed over the ridge and there it was Munbil airstrip.

Munbil was my marker; I was close to Busilmin now. Busilmin airstrip is at 5,100ft. But, already I was flying below this height. I would need to climb up before landing. The Busilmin Valley looked dark as I approached it. I snuck in under the cloud at the entrance to the valley taking me even lower. I hugged the left-hand side of the valley wall keeping enough space to turn around. The canyon opened up a bit, and I was able to climb back up to just below circuit height.

Taking a step back, the flying of this valley is spectacular. It was dark, quiet, with tendrils of cloud hanging down. The purr of the gas turbine engine was hardly noticeable. The tight circuit meant I would fly close to the terrain all the way down to land on the airstrip, no room for error. Busilmin is a class D strip. The more difficult kind MAF operates. And then I saw it.

Rain. It was raining over the airstrip. Landing in the rain on a mountain strip is the worst formula for disaster. I had already decided I would not advance in heavy rain. I continued flying overhead the touchdown point and saw the airstrip was wet with a wind blowing. I stayed with the circuit and continued my approach.

I didn’t need to decide about landing until half way along final – my approach committal point. Until then, I can choose to fly away. So, the jury was still out. I had options; I was doing fine; I could tick all MAF’s safety boxes. I did not need to land if I was not completely satisfied. Safety is number one.

On the base leg, the one just before turning on final, I broke out of the rain. I was in a small shower, but the visibility through the propeller was acceptable. In the back of my mind, I was thinking about how to get out of here if I landed. The top of the airstrip is a cul-de-sac into the valley wall. If I continued, I would not be able to see up and out of the valley. But, I decided that I should try and help this boy even if it meant spending the night at his place. So, I landed right through the shower.

The landing was bumpy. There was no getting away from it. I touched down on the side of the mountain where grass hides the rock underneath. And then there’s the dog’s leg – a left-hand bend. As I landed, I had to steer the plane around the curve, and uphill. The Caravan is a four-ton plane touching down at 86 miles per hour. Busilmin strip is just 500 meters long. This plane made it look easy. It is fantastic.

I was thankful to arrive. The airstrip is so steep it is not possible to see the bottom from the top. I call this a “Disney Strip”. No need to go to California for a thrill ride. I looked down in the direction I knew the village should be, but there was no one waiting for me. My heart sank. Where was everyone? I was on an empty airstrip, a lone plane on the side of a mountain, and nothing but the sound of a massive waterfall.

Jesus answered my prayers. I heard them before I saw them. Small children began to emerge from the crest of the hill below.

The village is at the bottom of the strip. I could now see reams of people, the whole community, making their way up the steep incline. The first man to greet me was the school teacher. He was sweating profusely from the climb. Surrounding him were his students of all ages, from five to twenty.

“Please wait,” he said desperately in Tok Pisin. “He will come. He will come.”

The next person over the hill was the village leader. He was barking loudly at me in Tok Pisin. His arms waved around, and his tone was piercing and angry. At first, I thought he was going to give me a hard time. Then he said, “I thank you for coming. You have saved this boy’s life. He has a bright future ahead of him. Bless you.”

He went on to say the young boy was 18 years old. He had fallen into a fire two days ago. The boy had put his hands out to break his fall. His hands landed on the flames and hot coals. To get out of the fire he had to put his leg in, and that too was perilously burnt. Without immediate help, all wounds could lean to the point of disfigurement or even death, and as always in the jungle, open wounds were in constant danger of infection. The boy was from a nearby village. They had to carry him through the wilderness first before raising the alarm.

Confident his message was understood; the leader disappeared back over the edge of the airstrip below.

I waited for a further half-hour. By now, at the top of the hill, a great crowd had assembled. Everyone wanted to play a part in seeing the MAF plane rescue this boy. They would talk about this day for a long time to come.

And so it was; I eventually got sight of the boy. Four healthy young men carried him in a bush stretcher up the hill. They had constructed the stretcher from vines and sticks. The swathes of people parted to make a clear path to the plane. The men did not break pace; utterly focused on their mission, sweat running down their half-naked bodies which sparkled in the sun’s rays. The boy was in much physical pain. We negotiated the stretcher into the main cabin of the plane. I tried to make sure the boy was as comfortable as possible before making preparations for departure. From the corner of my eye, I could see the four stretcher-bearers laid out on the grass, chests heaving, collapsed from the sheer physical exertion of their task.

I worried about the deteriorating weather. On landing, one set of problems had gone away; I had arrived safely in spite of the clouds, rain, and high mountains. Now, I had another set of issues to work through.

I needed to fly in a way that I can immediately land should the conditions be dangerous. I could not see along the valley from the top of the strip; I didn’t know what weather was waiting for me around the corner.

I planned to take off and immediately start the landing procedure. If I could see along the valley towards Munbil, I could depart. Otherwise, an immediate landing would be necessary. A flight of one big circle called a dumbbell.

I also planned to fly along the Sepik Gorge at a low level. For this, I would need a break in the weather. The last I’d heard of Telefomin was that the rain was torrential. The storm would need to have rained-out, or I needed an exit from the highlands to Wewak. Again, another opportunity for a quick prayer.

With one last glance towards the moody mountains ahead of me, I flew the big dumbbell circle in the Busilmin valley. And there, I saw a light at the end of the tunnel. I was reminded of the opening words in John’s gospel, “The light shines through the darkness…”. I descended below the Busilmin airstrip then under the cloud at the exit of the valley. I was soon over Munbil. Then, a shimmer of silver snaking through the jungle, I’d found the river. The river could lead me to Wewak or my emergency exit route, but better than that, I’d worked out a way to Telefomin. And there it was, clear as day… Telefomin hospital was visible below me enjoying a brief spot of sunshine. We made it. The Lord had answered my prayers.

The MAF ground staff at Telefomin were quick to unload the patient and get him on his way to the hospital. The strip had been wet and boggy, the landing sending sprays of dirt and mud from beneath the tyres. Storms were building again around the mountains. We all knew I needed to get out of there if I was to make it home that night. The weather would not hold much longer.

I found the exit route through the clouds to Wewak I had spotted earlier. I blasted out of the dark, rainy, and gloomy highlands into the bright plains of the Sepik River. On my way home I stopped in Edwaki, a mission station on the Yellow River. Here, I got out my box of Bibles and sold several to the local tribes-people. These much-needed Bibles are in the Tok Pisin language. I charge just a few Kina each, a fraction of their cost. I sat on the tyre of the plane contemplating the afternoon’s events.

I thought of that initial decision to make an effort to save a life. It seemed like an age ago. I was amazed at the way God lined up all those problems for me to solve in faith. The pain I saw on that boy’s face as he came up the hill. The leader’s plea to save his bright future. His mother’s face as she watched her son loaded into the back of an aircraft. I remembered the boy’s father worrying about how to pay for the plane ride to Telefomin. And then of his great relief as I told him not to worry, “MAF’s supporters are paying for you today,” I said.

PNG people can sometimes show a great outpouring of generosity to MAF’s pilots. They name my plane, “Balus Bilong Mipela,” my plane, and the pilot, “Pilot Bilong Mipela,” my pilot. This day was a special day. For no particular reason other than their need to show grand appreciation, the tribes folk of Edwaki gave me a present of a Bilum (bag) for my wife. The bilum can take up to a month to weave from materials found in the jungle. It is intricately laced. They also presented me with very precious ceremonial headdress feathers, something I have never received before.

As I took off from Edwaki, I realised that I had the best job in the world. I work for God, and today I saved a life, a young life with a bright future, a life worth saving. My reward is knowing that I make a difference in people’s lives. I know my life is worth it.

-Paul Woodington

Great Christian Adventure Starts

Paul and Clare · Feb 21, 2018 · Leave a Comment


Do you think that a Christian Life sounds like a bore? I did. A friend of mine said he was worried about going to heaven because he thought it seemed dull. He loves the sea, sand, and anything outdoors! What could living a Christian Life hold for him? Similarly, when my wife and I became Christians together 28 years ago, it was hard. How could we serve the Lord engagingly and excitingly? But, after spending 30 years in an exciting IT development environment and with four children in tow, we gave it all up. We sold up and set out on a life-changing journey with God.

Our journey takes us all around the world. We live without doctors. There is no sufficient police force. Our faith is 100%. If we did not have faith, we would have nothing. We see the light every day where others see death and hardship.

I need to document this for others. We want to share this adventure with you if you have just the smallest interest.

But first I need to share what my passions are. Without passion, we are lifeless.

Passion

The Bible documents God’s passion for His people. Our journey is about our passion for God.

My three passions which help me achieve this are:

– Marriage as a faithful husband to my wife and as a good father to my children
– Flying as a jungle pilot for MAF. I love serving isolated people everywhere, every day
– Leadership to everyone around me whom I serve. Leadership is upwards and downwards. To advise and encourage my bosses. To counsel and coach people who depend on me.

I also have another passion. It is writing software. But, that is another story.

The Great Christian Adventure website is all about having a passion for Christ and living an adventure with the Lord. Just like the Bible documents God’s passion for His people, this site documents our passion for God.

Please be encouraged to follow us for encouragement and to share an adventure.

After a year of talking about it, we have launched the Great Christian Adventure website.

Blessings – Paul

Please keep in touch.

 

I need to ask one question: “How can we live lives that are worth it?” If you cannot answer this question, you need to keep looking.

 

Critical Decisions, Correctly Made = Lives Saved

Paul and Clare · Sep 14, 2017 · Leave a Comment

I post this about a drama for me and the Wewak team. The Pryors are a very thankful family for the help we provide for their family and ministry.

Jesse Pryor is a second generation missionary in PNG. They have built a clinic and many times we have helped MEDEVAC seriously ill patients.

Yesterday I received a request to MEDEVAC Jesse’s son out of Samban. It was one of the most difficult and complex decision making tasks I have undertaken. But, we did our utmost to help.

It was late. I was already flying a MEDEVAC from Edwaki to Wewak, a man with a broken leg lying down in the plane in considerable pain. The Caravan was over half full and heavy. Yet, the task was to divert for an hour late in the day. Land in Samban. Pick up the family of four, three of which are large. Think about the weight and tail-wind for takeoff. Factor in a draggy surface penalty and recent rain. How low was the fuel? What reserves did I have?  How close to last light? Could the man with the broken leg manage another hour on the plane?

On the surface, it seems I would not be ticking many boxes so I declined. After a rethink, I found I could tick all the boxes if I diverted directly to Samban, not via Wewak. Jacob (base agent) was invaluable acting as an intermediary between myself on the radio and the very concerned father.

So, we lifted 10 people out of Samban, one a small baby. The GA8 struggles to lift just two out of here. The Caravan with a four-knot tailwind became airborne half way along the strip passing 200 ft over the fence.

It was such a gratifying performance. It made me realise how fantastic this plane is and to thank God for His wonderful provision for the SEPIK. As I engaged the autopilot and looked back at the load, I felt a pang, a tear-jerking sensation. I experienced a real community feeling on board. Elijah, their son with a burst appendix, was throwing up in a bag comforted by his big sister. Another woman was attending to the man with a broken leg which was badly swollen. Katie, Jesse’s wife, was showing another lady their newly adopted PNG baby. I shared what was left of my lunch and passed around water, and gave painkillers to the stretcher patient.


I want to share this with you because this plane makes a real difference to people’s lives. The Prior family needed us for their own family this time. We were able to help in the most difficult of circumstances. Not many planes would have fuel for an hour diversion or the capacity to lift this load out of a marginal airstrip.

When the plane landed at Wewak, it was near dark due to the overcast. When I got home it was dark. I got a call from NTM to work on how to switch the runway’s light on. NTM were on standby for a MEDEVAC. In the end, EMS from POM was called to MEDEVAC the Prior family to Australia.

This week I have done a MEDEVAC every day. Despite the difficult times we are all living, the mission community here is pulling together!

Great video of a previous MEDEVAC out of Samban in 2016 using a GA8 Airvan

 

Subscribe to Receive Updates

  • Flickr
  • LinkedIn
  • YouTube

Copyright © 2023 Great Christian Adventure · Site by Design by Insight

  • About
  • Blog
  • Photos
  • Videos
  • Newsletter
  • Donate
  • Contact