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Clement
Ketchum has served as captain on the Mercy Ship, Anastasis.
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During its heyday in the 1950s and ’60s,
the Italian ocean liner Anastasis plied the oceans from the
Mediterranean to Europe to Hong Kong to West Africa. Today the
572-foot, 12,000-gross ton Anastasis is based largely in Sierra Leone,
where it has been captained by Whitefish Bay native Clement Ketchum as
part of the Mercy Ships organization and renders medical assistance to
those living in the war-torn region.
Mercy Ships is a series of reclaimed
ocean vessels retrofitted as hospital ships.
Living on a ship for the better part of
the last 11 years is a far cry from Ketchum’s Northshore upbringing.
"I never really went anywhere except for one canoe trip in Canada
and a visit to Boulder Junction, Wis.," he says. "The first
time I ever flew on an airplane was when I was accepted to the Coast
Guard Academy."
Ketchum met his wife, Jennifer, when
both were in the Coast Guard and stationed in Puerto Rico. "I
always say it was like two ships passing in the night," Ketchum
jokes.
The young couple initially became
interested in the Mercy Ships organization as a post-retirement
experience. "We were always looking for a mission if it were
Christian-related," explains Ketchum. "In 1994, it looked so
good that we decided we didn’t want to wait until we retired."
Their
first stint was in 1997 on a Mercy Ship headed for the Caribbean where
they lived with their two young sons, Ben and Will, in a two-room
10-by-10 space on board the ship. "It wasn’t a long-term living
solution," Ketchum admits, "but it was OK for the three
years we did it." At the time, the boys were 4 and 5 years old.
After working in various ports around
the world, Jennifer received a scholarship to do graduate work at the
World Maritime University in Sweden. The family moved there for nine
months and Ketchum became a desk jockey, doing fund raising and
recruiting with the Mercy Ships’ Marine Operations staff.
But the sea was calling, and the
family, minus Jennifer, was back on the water. This time Ketchum was
assigned to the Anastasis, where Clem served as master (captain).
Jennifer joined the ship after graduation as both the training and
second officer.
The
Ketchums and 400 volunteers were in Sierra Leone on board the
Anastasis in 2001 and 2002 in the midst of a civil war. "There
were 75,000 U.N. peacekeeping troops there," Ketchum says.
"There were tanks and armored personnel carriers all around. It
was interesting for the kids to see that."
On the weekends, the Ketchums
disembarked and visited a local orphanage. The place had dirt floors
and no windows or mattresses, just sheets covering bedsprings.
"All of the orphans had lost parents in the war," he says.
"We provided a little bit of food and just went to be with
them." The Ketchums’ sons taught the young Sierra Leone
children how to play dodgeball and joined them in soccer games.
When Mercy Ships purchased the
Anastasis — which is the Greek word for resurrection — it
renovated it to include three operating rooms, one for maxillofacial
surgery, one for general surgery and one for eye surgery. Most of the
surgeries are ones that can be done quickly and impact a large number
of people. "For the patient, their life is changed
overnight," says Ketchum about the ship’s cataract surgeries.
Removing large cysts and dispensing antibiotics to stop the
destruction caused by a flesh-eating disease are also common
procedures.
Abu,
a Sierra Leone native in his late 50s, was one of the beneficiaries of
the work of the Anastasis. "Abu’s right foot was bent up at
such an angle that his toes were touching his shin," explains
Ketchum. "He was forced to walk on his heel as though it were a
sort of stump."
A venomous snake had bitten Abu when he
was a young boy. In an example of the cure being worse than the
disease, red-hot stones were placed on the bite to draw out the venom.
"It’s doubtful that the venom was drawn out, but his leg was
badly scarred and burned," Ketchum says. "Over the course of
the next few days, his leg muscles contracted to the point where his
foot was useless."
Although the ship regularly treated his
friends and neighbors, Abu never asked for help. When an orthopedic
surgeon joined the crew to work on club feet and cleft palate cases,
Ketchum helped get Abu an appointment. Today the African native can
wear flip flops on both feet.
Despite being the ship’s captain,
Ketchum regularly took his turn as the volunteer patient transporter.
After surgery and a stint in the recovery room, volunteers physically
move patients to their ward on a lower deck.
Ketchum recalls an incident in which
one of the first orthopedic patients, a 5-year-old girl, was being
taken to her ward after surgery on both legs to correct her club feet.
Her case was so severe that her hips would dislocate, causing a great
deal of pain. On the way to her ward, the little girl stopped crying
for the few seconds it took to snap her picture, which is used in many
of the Mercy Ships’ marketing materials. "It captures what
Mercy Ships is about in one picture," he says.
Those involved with Mercy Ships are
volunteers who pay their own way. Crew members and long-term
volunteers pay a room and board fee. They also raise money to cover
their salaries. Friends and churches donate tax-deductible
contributions in the names of individual volunteers. For a family of
four, it costs $900 per month to live aboard a ship including health
insurance and school fees. "Your needs are much more minimal than
in the U.S." says Ketchum. Short-term volunteers pay a little
more.
Jennifer was recalled to active duty
with the Coast Guard in the wake of the Sept. 11, 2001 terrorist
attacks on the United States. Clem, who is also a Reservist, was not
activated and spent that time earning his master’s degree from the
World Maritime University. Recent negotiations with the Coast Guard
have allowed Jennifer to pursue a Ph.D. at Oxford University in
England in exchange for a three-year commitment to the military
following graduation.
But the future, notes Ketchum, will
include other stints with Mercy Ships.
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