In a lengthy but excellent article a few days ago, Lon Wagner of Pilot Online documents an amazing rescue in a Virginian bay:
But 10 minutes out of the marina, they already were in trouble. The January wind tore in from the northwest, whipping up seas that pounded their 18-foot outboard.
“We’re taking on too much water!” someone shouted.
…
Gathering the man’s jacket collars in his fist, Dazzo towed him 60 feet through waves and rotor wash and pushed his 300-pound frame into a basket dangling from the helicopter.
…
The Coast Guard helicopter dropped Dazzo in the Bay at 9:29.
Thirteen minutes later, all six fishermen were out of the water
Wagner does a far more eloquent job than I could dream of doing in describing the tenacity, skill, and raw heroism of several Search and Rescue professionals from the US Coast Guard and a couple other agencies. He doesn’t do it directly, instead simply documenting the minute-by-minute gripping account of this rescue. But he doesn’t have to: Wagner’s descriptions speak for themselves to highlight the rescuers’ actions, their thoughts, their selfless courage.
I have often been asked what it was like to stand the Search and Rescue watch for the US Coast Guard–something I did for my first three years in the service. Typically at a loss for words to describe how I felt being a part of the world’s greatest search and rescue organization, I usually try to sum it up as being the most rewarding job I’ve ever had. And yet I was only in the background: a “SAR Controller” working in a district command center. Even there, sitting twelve to fifteeen hour shifts inside a steel box with no windows far removed from the scene, I grew a profoundly deep respect for the profession, and its professionals–especially those in the field that Wagner does such a wonderful job of documenting.
I’ve had my share of heart-stopping, gut-wrenching SAR cases from young children falling into frigid waters to airplane crashes in the ocean. Edge-of-your seat cases with such intensity and urgency that the entire rest of the world seems to stand still while you await that one radio call from the helicopter to say it’s over. All told, across nearly 2,000 cases in three years, I had the pleasure of working with some of the finest men and women ever to walk the Earth–people who risk everything to save an absolute stranger. For all the rewarding feelings of helping affect the rescue of others, even if tangentially, I find myself at a loss for words as I think about the great work of those in the field.
My hat is off to the Aviation Survival Technicians, the pilots and co-pilots, the crew members and Air Force Parajumpers, the members of search and rescue teams everywhere who risk so much and do their jobs so superbly well.
ENS Danny Llanes, PO Drew Dazzo, your helicopter crew members and pilot, Auxiliarist Torry Rogers, Tim Barco, Reed Sutherland, Matt Bailey, and Billy Burket: bravo zulu to each of you.
