HANGLINE 
Issue #12-02_________________ARCHIVES______ Posted February 2012
The Lonely Call
By Bill Nadeau
A friend of mine who is on the Canadian Coast Guard Auxiliary (CCGA) sent me this 'GOOFY' picture taken some time in the mid 1990's. It was taken as part of an awareness raising campaign to generate interest in the CCGA. In any case he threatened that if I did not help him out again with promoting what I still believe is a very important and vital part of our SAR program, he would make posters with it. So in an effort to make a pre-emptive strike and avoid any future extortion I thought I'd use it as the subject matter for my second column this year.
I had been a member of the Coast Guard for about five years when I was asked to help with the campaign and at the time wondered why people would want to help out much less donate money. Why would someone want to donate to our cause? I thought about what initially motivated me to support the Auxiliary.
During my tenure as a live-aboard charter captain I once was trapped in a tiny remote cove in a small islet just north of Vancouver Island for three days while hurricane force winds ripped treetops and stirred the seas into a hellish boil. Listening to the fierce winds tear through the hallow darkness was overwhelming. We were prepared for this storm and safely tied down but the nights still seemed long and an incredible sense of loneliness overcame my crew and guests. On one evening the loneliness and helplessness was exacerbated as we monitored the transmissions between a struggling fishing vessel and its rescuers. Although not far from them we lacked the resources to extend any kind of aid – I could feel their despair. They eventually floundered upon a shallow reef and sank. The loss was traumatic. When I returned home after that trip I signed up for the Coast Guard Auxiliary and began training and working with the local unit in Nanaimo.
Many years later on a late night call to search and investigate a ‘flare sighting’ I could not help recall that disturbing evening. It was 2:OO in the morning and the night was cold, the visibility was low and the seas seemed abandoned and rough. We searched for hours and eventually verified that there were no vessels in or near the reported area. On route back to the base another May Day call came in from the Rescue Coordination Center. This time it was a confirmed sighting of small vessel adrift with out power and with people possibly in the water.
Again I could not help recall that night we were trapped in the cove with people stranded in the storm. This time we could help. Their position was reported a few miles to the north of us and drifting to the northeast. We plotted our course and wasted no time in getting underway. If someone was in the water they would not last long as hypothermia sets in quick around here – we had to get there fast. Our bearing took us straight into the seas and it was a little rough but with night vision and two lookouts we challenged the conditions with the throttle wide open.
Around Georgia Straight the logging industry is widespread and by nature of the beast – so are dead heads. These long large logs float precariously just beneath the surface ready to wreak havoc. Even with our advanced sighting resources we were not able to see one particular log until it was a few meters off of our bow. I swerved hard to port missing the deadhead by a hair but in an attempt to straighten the vessel out was thrown from the helm station by the overpowering centrifugal force. Doing nearly 50mph I was thrown well clear of the vessel and bounced hard along the surface of water finally resting 15 meters or so from the rescue whaler which had been stalled by the safety kill-switch.
The crew quickly restarted the boat and picked me up. Cold and shaken we carried on to the mayday location. When we located the distraught vessel we discovered that no one had actually been in the water but the vessel was adrift and in peril. The passengers – a young couple out on a midnight cruise, could not restart their stalled motor and the deteriorating weather was pulling them further out to sea where the waves and wind picked up. They were relieved and happy to see us confessing that they felt as though their pleas for help were swallowed by darkness. Their gratitude made me forget my soaked clothes – they were safe now – and we had made a difference.
On that call I sprained a few fingers, bruised my ribs and spent a long cold night out on the water giving me a bit of a headcold. Yes being a member of the Auxiliary meant sacrificing time, giving up a warm bed every now and then, and sometimes even putting your life at risk but I felt it was my obligation to do what I can to answer the lonely call for help. Later I was able to take those kind of experiences and the skills that I learned and apply them in a career as a Dive Rescue Specialist with the Coast Guard working full time at the hovercraft station. The Coast Guard Auxiliary is a non-profit organization that relies on community support to finance safety equipment and of course a reliable rescue vessel. Without it they can’t answer that lonely call.
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