SeaJay
Contributor
For months I've been volunteering with the local chapter of the Marine Rescue Squadron. This is a group of volunteers who are skilled at a variety of things useful in a marine rescue situation. Many of them are ex-military, firefighters, emergency medical technicians, experienced boaters and navigators, and a few, like me, are divers. All of them are unpaid, all of them are thrill-seekers, and all of them make me proud to be in the human race with them.
I've only had the opportunity to serve with them a couple of times thus far... The last time was this past Friday, when we were to serve as a sort of "keepers of the peace" on the water, along with the local police force, during a waterborne event called the "Parade of Lights." We were to "hang out" and help with stranded boats and on-the-water problems. Simple.
During the event (I was on "Rescue One," the Squadron's sole self-owned boat; many individuals donate their own boats for events) word spread around the boat like a wildfire: We had a mission.
Being the only qualified rescue diver on the boat (and the only one geared and ready to go), I immediately asked for an assessment of the situation so that I could begin planning. The water temperature was a balmy 68 degrees, but the air was hovering near the freezing point, and 5-7' swells beat our 17' boat once we got out of the rivers and into open water.
"Beached!" The captain screamed over the howling motor. "Someone ran aground during the storm this afternoon, and is now high and dry, out of (drinking) water, cold and scared. Coast Guard has called us in to assist!"
As usual, we had only a vague idea of where they were, but common sense said that they were not on land; if they were, they wouldn't need us. They could simply wade ashore. Yet they were beached. The night never looked so dark... And our going slow, as wave after wave threatened to swamp our tiny boat. "Glad I'm wearing my wetsuit," I thought as the angry sea broke over our bow again and again.
After two or three passes, we finally found them... Beached far up into the marsh, almost out of sight. The land mass they had beached on was on a remote, swampy island in the middle of a fast-moving river. Their boat was surrounded by mud known to swallow people whole.
I was the first out of the boat, greeting our shivering victims with a quick question: "Who's hurt?"
The story ends well... The only one hurt was pride; dad, son, and son-in-law were quite embarrassed, and had been stuck in the marsh for nearly five hours. During this time, the boat had taken on water (listed to the side badly because of the grounding, which let the waves in over the side of the boat... Blowing up the battery and ruining several pieces of electronic gear) and the air temperature had dropped almost thirty degrees. Rain had pummeled them badly, and everyone was soaked to the bone. When hypothermia had begun to settle in, they'd been smart and wrapped themselves with whatever was available.
We were able to provide the people a ride to shore... To a very happy girlfriend, and a pair of wonderful wives, who did not remind them of their mistakes but instead were thrilled to get their men back safely.
Sincere thanks were offered and appreciated, but secretly, every one of the people in the Squadron is thrilled to do such simple things that mean so much to people. Me... I get a thrill out of the adventure, and would do it just for the sake of the mission.
Tonight we held a Squadron meeting... I was only able to attend the latter half because of my classes at the University... But I was given my rescue jacket and cap.
I'm officially "in" now, I suppose. The jacket wasn't free, and of course, it really didn't have much to do with the events of Friday night... But to me, it means a lot anyway. I'm thrilled to be a part of the group.
Thanks, guys, for letting me be a part of this... For letting me take my passion and do something positive with it.
I've only had the opportunity to serve with them a couple of times thus far... The last time was this past Friday, when we were to serve as a sort of "keepers of the peace" on the water, along with the local police force, during a waterborne event called the "Parade of Lights." We were to "hang out" and help with stranded boats and on-the-water problems. Simple.
During the event (I was on "Rescue One," the Squadron's sole self-owned boat; many individuals donate their own boats for events) word spread around the boat like a wildfire: We had a mission.
Being the only qualified rescue diver on the boat (and the only one geared and ready to go), I immediately asked for an assessment of the situation so that I could begin planning. The water temperature was a balmy 68 degrees, but the air was hovering near the freezing point, and 5-7' swells beat our 17' boat once we got out of the rivers and into open water.
"Beached!" The captain screamed over the howling motor. "Someone ran aground during the storm this afternoon, and is now high and dry, out of (drinking) water, cold and scared. Coast Guard has called us in to assist!"
As usual, we had only a vague idea of where they were, but common sense said that they were not on land; if they were, they wouldn't need us. They could simply wade ashore. Yet they were beached. The night never looked so dark... And our going slow, as wave after wave threatened to swamp our tiny boat. "Glad I'm wearing my wetsuit," I thought as the angry sea broke over our bow again and again.
After two or three passes, we finally found them... Beached far up into the marsh, almost out of sight. The land mass they had beached on was on a remote, swampy island in the middle of a fast-moving river. Their boat was surrounded by mud known to swallow people whole.
I was the first out of the boat, greeting our shivering victims with a quick question: "Who's hurt?"
The story ends well... The only one hurt was pride; dad, son, and son-in-law were quite embarrassed, and had been stuck in the marsh for nearly five hours. During this time, the boat had taken on water (listed to the side badly because of the grounding, which let the waves in over the side of the boat... Blowing up the battery and ruining several pieces of electronic gear) and the air temperature had dropped almost thirty degrees. Rain had pummeled them badly, and everyone was soaked to the bone. When hypothermia had begun to settle in, they'd been smart and wrapped themselves with whatever was available.
We were able to provide the people a ride to shore... To a very happy girlfriend, and a pair of wonderful wives, who did not remind them of their mistakes but instead were thrilled to get their men back safely.
Sincere thanks were offered and appreciated, but secretly, every one of the people in the Squadron is thrilled to do such simple things that mean so much to people. Me... I get a thrill out of the adventure, and would do it just for the sake of the mission.
Tonight we held a Squadron meeting... I was only able to attend the latter half because of my classes at the University... But I was given my rescue jacket and cap.
I'm officially "in" now, I suppose.
The jacket wasn't free, and of course, it really didn't have much to do with the events of Friday night... But to me, it means a lot anyway. I'm thrilled to be a part of the group.Thanks, guys, for letting me be a part of this... For letting me take my passion and do something positive with it.
