The Coast Guard's response to Hurricane Katrina was the single largest search and rescue operation in its history, rivaled only by the Mariel boatlift and the mass migrations from Haiti and Cuba in the 1990s. Coast Guard crews (like rescue swimmer John Calhoun, opposite) rescued and evacuated more than 33,000 people in the storm's wake—at least 12,000 by helicopter. Here's the story of what may have been the first of them.
Flying over the Mississippi River Delta on the heels of Hurricane Katrina, two Coast Guard HH-65B Dolphin helicopters were battling 65-knot winds, heavy rainfall, and shifting wind shear when they picked up a faint Mayday call. It came in at 2:50 pm, Monday, 29 August. Katrina had moved through that section of Louisiana in the morning. All the crews knew for sure was that people needed help and there was no time to spare.
Lieutenant David Johnston and his crew—25 miles away at the time—headed toward Port Sulphur, a small fishing village some 40 miles downriver from New Orleans that they they believed was the source of the distress call.
Johnston's helicopter, call sign Coast Guard 6514, was one of five HH-65s from Coast Guard Air Station New Orleans that had flown westward a day earlier to ride out the storm and prepare to evacuate the Gulf Coast. Two aircraft went to the Coast Guard Air Station Houston staging area and three—including Johnston's crew—to the New Orleans staging area at Lake Charles.
As the hurricane made landfall, all five HH-65's had launched and flown back to Houma, Louisiana, south of New Orleans, to take on fuel, offload non-essential equipment, and position the unit's maintenance team. By then, it was 1:30 pm and little was known about the situation in New Orleans, including whether home field on the Navy Joint Reserve Base five miles south of downtown was even above water
Maximum wind speed for engaging the rotors on the Dolphin is 60 knots and the winds at Houma were gusting above that, but the helicopters were able to shelter behind a tree line. They launched again at 2:20 pm. The plan was to fan out behind the storm to provide the quickest response to the greatest area possible.
Once airborne, Johns ton's crew saw that Katrina had totally devastated the once-familiar and prosperous collection of fishing and oil communities. Following the only recognizable terrain feature, the Mississippi River, Johnston and his co-pilot, lieutenant Craig Murray, turned their chopper toward the distress signal. The voice on channel 16—the marine distress, safety, and calling frequency—was that of a panicked grandmother desperately calling for help for herself, her daughter, a four-month old prematurely born grandchild, and the family's three dogs. The trauma induced by the monster storm that had passed directly overhead had left them unsure of their location, other than that they were somewhere near Port Sulphur, where they had sought refuge on a half-submerged fishing boat lodged among downed trees and power lines, automobiles, and wreckage from the storm.
Homing in on the grandmother's voice using the aircraft's direction finding equipment, the crew of Coast Guard 6514 was able to pinpoint the location when the family fired a series of red flares. These were people who make their living from the sea and they knew what to do in an emergency.
Johnston and Murray brought CG6514 into a 100-foot hover. Petty Officer Second Class Warren Labeth managed the hoist as they lowered the crew's rescue swimmer. Petty Officer Third Class Lawrence Nettles. In the water, Nettles disconnected from the hoist and swam to the boat to assess the situation. The 65-knot winds provided an excellent profile to hover the often-underpowered Dolphin helicopter, but the wind shear and turbulence gave the crew all they could handle. Twice the aircraft settled with no power to spare and recovered each time only a few feet above the trees and power lines.
After deploying the swimmer, Johnston gained some altitude and circled overhead. Nettles used his hand-held radio to say that things looked okay, so Johnston again maneuvered to a position 100 feet over the wrecked boat and Labeth lowered the rescue basket. It was just after 3 p.m. when Nettles loaded the family and the dogs into a rescue basket and Labeth winched them up in two hoists. On the third hoist, to recover the rescue swimmer, a gust of wind caught the cable and it became entangled in a fallen tree, literally anchoring the helicopter to the earth. Labeth calmly manipulated the hoist so that Nettles could break several branches and free the cable.
Nettles' day was just beginning. The crew had noticed several people walking around in a daze on a nearby levee so Johnston dropped him off to facilitate their rescue. Rescue swimmers always get the good deals.
Coast Guard 6514 then headed for the West Jefferson Hospital in New Orleans while coordinating the diversion of several Coast Guard helicopters to recover the people on the levee. At the hospital, the crew set-up for an approach to the helipad on the roof of the parking garage, once again battling stiff winds. Once on deck, hospital personnel assumed responsibility for a very grateful family. From early reports, they were the first people rescued by helicopter after the storm.
Back in Port Sulphur, Nettles asked survivors about others who might be trapped nearby. A woman said she had heard screaming about a half mile away. Nettles ran down the levee. He spied two people perched on a partially collapsed roof some ISO yards from dry ground. He saw a small pirogue nearby and commandeered it. Using his rescue-swimmer fins as makeshift paddles, he maneuvered the pirogue to the house and recovered the two people and their dog.
Things weren't getting any easier, however. Halfway back to the levee, the overloaded boat began sinking. Never at a loss, the young Coast Guardsman slipped on his fins once again and jumped overboard, reducing the weight in the boat He then flutter-kicked the boat and its passengers to safety.
Before it was over. Nettles had coordinated the rescue of 19 people, counting the two adults and child that originally brought Coast Guard 6514 to the small fishing town of Port Sulphur.
In all, the Coast Guard rescued more : than 33,000 people in the affected region. By comparison, in an average year the Coast Guard rescues about 5,500 people. Almost six years worth of rescues in less than two weeks—not a bad fortnight's work.
Lieutenant Colonel Greeley, a Marine attack pilot while on active duty, is the managing editor of Proceedings.