Second Honorable Mention, Coast Guard Essay Contest
From 1915 until the end of World War II, there were two U.S. Coast Guards: the cutter branch and the lifesaving branch. In general, headquarters tended to leave the lifesaving stations to themselves, giving them only minimal support and personnel. Once a year, a major inspection party would visit, and that would be it.
Unless there was a death.
Then the commandant and his staff became very interested and pointed out what the station did wrong, whether the station was wrong or not. Things then settled back into the same routine.
This led to the development of two enduring features within the stations. First, the small group of people at the stations knew they would receive very little help in the way of equipment, men, and money. Second, this same group developed a fierce pride in what they did. They were proud that they always went out, even if they had to hold their equipment together with bailing wire and prayers. They were willing to accept second-class treatment so they could continue to save lives.
In 1936, Russell Randolf Waesche Sr. became commandant of a badly dispirited organization. Prohibition had just ended and the rum war at sea was over. Officers were cashiered and enlisted men dismissed.
Seeing the need for a single U.S. Coast Guard, Admiral Waesche began the present system of units, groups, districts, and headquarters. He also felt the service needed to rid itself of some of the stations. Admiral Willard J. Smith, at the time an aide to Waesche, noted in his oral history that the leadership of the service in the 1930s felt those who served at the stations were not really sailors and would make the officer corps a "laughingstock."
Through the 1950s, commandants and their staffs continued to treat the stations as if it were 1915. Billet numbers were kept small and equipment lagged. On the Great Lakes, for example, the only electronics on board a 36-- foot motor lifeboat was a radio. If a motor lifeboat was towing a pleasure craft and needed to take a sounding, it had to either use a boat hook or yell over to the civilian craft to get a reading from its fathometer. A station's complement had gained just three people from 1915 to 1959.
The stations basically were left to fend for themselves.
Unless there was a death.
Then an investigating officer and the commandant would point out what the station did wrong, whether the station did anything wrong or not. Things then settled back to business as usual.
By the 1970s, other duties were being added to units. It began with law enforcement and today includes a multitude of duties besides search and rescue. So even though more people were assigned to the units, there still were not enough to do the job. In addition, even when the U.S. Coast Guard received new 44-foot motor lifeboats, the crews had to call over to the people they were towing to get accurate positions because higher powers apparently felt people on motor lifeboats did not need LORAN.
From the 1980s, more people were added to the stations, but they rotate so quickly that units seldom have many qualified individuals assigned. In addition, the number of other duties besides search and rescue make it difficult for individuals to keep proficiency across the board. Electronic upgrades and other equipment improvements continue to lag.
The record ot the past 85 years is clear: commandants and their staffs have paid little attention to the stations. Unless there was a death.
The loss of three crewmen at the Quillayute River Station on 12 February 1997 and the deaths in South Carolina of three civilians on board the Morning Dew immediately brought the cry, "The system is broken."
If "the system" means headquarters, the districts, and the groups managing the stations, the system has not functioned correctly since 1915.
The single most important step in making the stations better is for those in leadership positions to listen to what their experts, the senior people at the stations, are saying. They then should act quickly, especially on those items dealing with crew safety.
When the investigation into the deaths at Quillayute River ruled that a contributing factor was the hooks on the safety belts boat crews use in rough weather, headquarters mandated new boat hooks. Three years later, it withdrew them for safety reasons; the stations had been complaining about them for the entire three years.
In a 47-foot motor lifeboat, there is a significant distance between where the crew stands at the towing bit and the coxswain. Since at least 1996, leadership has been working on improving communications between coxswain and line handlers—still nothing. Yet one station, on its own, has, according to a crewman, "started looking into an intercom system for the 47 boat crews that includes fitted ear pieces that work as hearing protection, speakers, and microphones. This would allow the crew to communicate anywhere on the boat as well as help preserve their hearing. Sound-level studies on the 47 have proved that everyone should be wearing at least single hearing protection or hearing loss will occur after sustained exposure. They now are sending 47 crews in for audiograms because some office in headquarters wants to see if we really are losing our hearing before they spend any money on the project. We already have told them what gear is needed and the price."
One of the most important factors at a small-boat station is weather, but crews still must rely on printed information from the National Weather Service, a system that has no weather chart attached. To my knowledge, no station has ever been fitted with a weather fax machine, which now is relatively inexpensive. When asked how they gather their weather information, commanding officers and officers-in-charge invariably say they rely either on a message from the National Weather Service or on television coverage from the Weather Channel or the local news. That something as important as the weather is supplied in such a manner is inexcusable.
Government agencies should be money conscious, but in the case of the small-boat stations, the bottom line is not money. The bottom line is the young men and women who risk their lives when they put out to sea. Money should never be a consideration when it comes to the safety of these young men and women.
The commandant and his staff need to be informed and be able to communicate. An informed headquarters would not allow the stations to fall behind in technology or equipment. An informed commandant and staff would recognize that station duty is not easy and would not look down on those who serve at these units. An informed commandant and staff would help bridge the communications chasm between headquarters and the stations. At stations on the West Coast, Great Lakes, and East Coast, the common perception is that headquarters does not listen to them.
This does not necessarily mean there need to be officers at the stations, as has been suggested. The stations have been run successfully by mainly enlisted personnel for 85 years. But if the commandant feels it would be better to add officer billets at the units, then he also should recognize that the officers who fill these billets must have all the qualifications their crews must possess, including being a coxswain. An officer must demonstrate he or she can be a deck officer before taking the conn of a cutter; an aviator must prove he or she can fly. It is not outrageous for officers to have to prove they can be coxswains at a station. It should never be just accepted that an officer can handle any small boat, as is the current policy.
The commandant must decide what the U.S. Coast Guard is. In an era of declining budgets, the service no longer can be all things to all people. What makes the service unique is search and rescue.
The stations' only mission should be search and rescue. This would allow some billets to be cut and would improve the quality of the stations, as crews could focus on a single mission.
A primary reason for burnout at the stations is the inordinate amount of time senior petty officers must spend training—first, because the 47-foot motor lifeboat is more complicated than previous motor lifeboats, and second, because of too frequent transfers. For example, at the time of the deaths at Quillayute River, 12 of the 17 people at the unit who normally were assigned to boats (not including the officer in charge and executive petty officer) had been at the unit for one year or less. In other words, 70% of the crew had a year or less of experience in the dangerous waters of the Pacific Northwest. In addition, the station should have had four surfmen, but had only three, two of whom were the officer in charge and executive petty officer.
Interestingly, the investigation into the 1961 loss of U.S. Coast Guardsmen during a rescue effort on the Columbia River highlighted the crewmen's lack of experience in the area. In short, the high turnover problem has persisted for at least 39 years.
If the commandant wants to task stations with missions in addition to search and rescue, he should do so only when the money and resources to fund them fully are in hand. If funding dries up, so should the added programs.
One of the most difficult obstacles for the small-boat stations is high-level leadership. To the best of my knowledge, no current U.S. Coast Guard flag officer has ever served at a small-boat station. I also would venture that the Boat Forces Division in headquarters has no academy-- commissioned officer who has served at a small-boat station. If the U.S. Coast Guard does not want its officer corps to have a career path in search and rescue, but does want it to manage the stations, then the Commandant and his staff must start listening to the senior people at the stations.
These four suggestions for improvements—listen to the senior people at the stations, task them only with search and rescue, give them adequate staffing, and increase tour lengths—are all higher-level issues. There is no mention of changes in the structure of the stations themselves because the stations never have been the problem.
Over my 42 years of service in and observation and study of the U.S. Coast Guard, I continually have been amazed at the professionalism and dedication of the young enlisted men and women at the small-boat stations. Almost every day these young people must make literally life-and-death decisions—decisions that some flag officers in the U.S. Coast Guard have never had to make. But, unfortunately, if there is a death, the service rarely backs them up. In fact, it tends to point fingers. If something has gone wrong, it needs to be corrected so others do not die, but a coxswain or a surfman can follow all the rules and do everything right and someone still may die. The commandant and his staff must realize the environment these young men and women work in is harsh and unforgiving. When the next incident occurs, the service should take a page from the aviation community: conduct a thorough investigation, find the problems, then show the troops how to fix it. Do not rush to assign blame.
On 12 January 1961, five U.S. Coast Guardsmen were killed going to the assistance of the fishing vessel Mermaid. In 1982, retired Senior Chief Boatswain's Mate Darrell Murray, a participant in the case, attempted to obtain from the service transcripts of the hearing held on the incident for a claim to the Veterans Administration. A letter to his U.S. senator brought the following response from U.S. Coast Guard headquarters: "We have conducted a thorough search of our files of such investigations, both at Coast Guard Headquarters and the 13th Coast Guard District Office in Seattle, Washington. Although every possible subject category was searched, we have, unfortunately, been unable to find any record related to the incident to which Mr. Murray referred." In only 21 years, one of the single largest losses of people from a small-boat station had been forgotten.
The work of the men and women who risk their lives for others must not be forgotten. There must be an end to the apathy, especially when the solution is simple and relatively inexpensive.
Dr. Noble retired from the U.S. Coast Guard in 1978 after 21 years of active duty. He served at a variety of shore stations on both coasts and the Great Lakes. Sea duty was in the Northwind (WAGB-282), Westwind (WAGB-281), and Edisto (WAGB-284), plus oceanographic surveys in the Staten Island (WAGB-278), Glacier (WAGB-4), Barataria (WHEC-381), and Evergreen (WAGO-295). He holds a doctorate in history from Purdue University and is now a full-time writer.