Search and Rescue (SAR)

Thirty-five years ago, the World War II-vintage cutter Tamaroa battled 40-foot seas and 100-mph winds during the 1991 Perfect Storm, rescuing the crew of the sailboat Satori and four downed Air National Guard airmen in one of the Coast Guard’s most remarkable search-and-rescue operations.

In the early 1970s, a botched rescue attempt along the California coast sparked the idea for SARWET—the Sea-Air-Rotary-Wing Evacuation Team—the unofficial precursor to today’s Coast Guard Rescue Swimmer Program.

With no armor, no fixed plan, and reports of gunfire below, Cmdr. Jim O’Keefe flew into flooded New Orleans again and again, lifting survivors from rooftops, hospitals, and ambulances until 214 people were safe.

One of Hurricane Sandy’s defining rescues unfolded in 30‑foot seas off Cape Hatteras, as C‑130 and Jayhawk crews flew at 300 feet in the dark, dropped swimmers into “washing machine” water, and hoisted 14 HMS Bounty sailors from two life rafts in the “Graveyard of the Atlantic.”

On a beach with no harbor, at the end of a thousand‑mile supply line, a tiny crew rowed through Bering Sea surf, drove dogsleds in –40 degree below zero winters, fought fire and flu, and helped care for Native communities—all from the most isolated lifesaving station the service ever ran.

Night surf, shattered boats, and men lashed to frozen masts—volunteers and a cutter crew fought a killing gale to wrench life from a North Atlantic wreck.

When Treasury Secretary Alexander Hamilton established the service in 1790, the stated purpose of the revenue cutters was law enforcement. However, after its founding, ships of the United States Revenue Cutter Service assisted vessels in distress as was the custom for mariners at sea.

Suddenly, flames erupted form the number one engine and left wing, while the verticle and horizontal stabilizers suffered additional damage. The crew lost control of the engine, and all emergency efforts to suppress the fire failed. As the blaze spread aft toward the rear fuselage, the situation grew critical. At 12:30 p.m. the crew transmitted an SOS and announced their intent to ditch the PV2V-5.

In the evening of April 20, 2010,, the Deepwater Horizon oil rig blows up. The explosion results in the deaths of 11 workers and, within two days, the loss of the rig. The resulting spill of over 200 million gallons of crude oil became the largest discharge of oil in U.S. waters. This was the catalyst for the largest response for an environmental disaster in the Service’s history.

Darkness fell suddenly in the eye with the storm’s western wall shading the setting sun—time to leave. We could provide no further assistance. Dell G’s calm was ending, as was ours. Now came the most terrifying part of the day—flying back into the storm’s eyewall.