Dead In The Water (DIW), Or, Taking On Water (TOW)...

  As some of you may know, I was in two branches of the military: the U.S. Air Force (police), in the mid- and late-1960s (and a Vietnam veteran), and the U.S. Coast Guard, in the mid- and late-1970s (search and rescue radioman/communications specialist) at the Group C.G. base in downtown Boston, a stone's throw from the District HQ, close to where the Boston Celtics used to play before they moved to their new digs...

When I was manning the communications center, on my 12-hour shift, depending on the time of year, I dealt with various and sometimes life threatening situations that demanded quick, knowledgeable, and correct action in order to effect a successful rescue and save lives.

I was not alone while on duty, as the Duty Officer (DO) was "right next door" in the DO's comm center, separated by a huge, sliding glass door.  I guess you could say, the DO was my "right-hand-man," but in reality, I was his "right hand man," at the controls of several radio frequencies that had to be monitored at the same time, as well as two teletype machines, a "monster" of a recording device, an emergency activation system for the alert boat crews, and numerous other duties which I will get to shortly...

I should add that the DO was usually a high-ranking enlisted man, up to and including Master Chief Petty Officer; he had his own little room about 15 feet from my radio room, equipped with a bed, a TV, etc.  He was allowed to sleep during the dead of night so long as things were quiet on the high-seas, or in the vicinity of the inner or outer harbor (Boston, Ma.)...

The alert boat crews were down the hallway about 50 feet or so, where they too were allowed to sleep during the overnight hours if things were quiet.  If things "went south," all I had to do was to push a button and those guys would fly out of their beds, awaken by an ear-splitting alarm bell!  Of course, I'd have to bang on the DO's door, get him up and quickly fill him in on the situation.  

I loved my job, even though at times it was harrowing; testing my voice, mental and prioritizing skills when making split-second decisions, not unlike other first responders...

Sometimes, things would go from boring -- catching up on paper-work and other administrative duties, including routing messages to ships moored at the base, or taking in messages from those very same ships -- to all-out chaos in seconds when a distress call -- MAYDAY! -- would come across the emergency radio frequency: channel 16... 

It should be noted that there was a Radioman Supervisor that was over the watch-stander, lower ranking "sparks" -- the term that all radiomen were given, as there were three "bolts of lightning" above our chevrons (stripes, if referring to to the other services), but when the "sup" went home after his day-shift, it was our baby.  One interesting aspect of being in control of the radio room, is that we (myself and the other radiomen) had enormous authority and power to tell mariners and others on the water, what to do and how to do it!  I liked that authority, though neither I, nor any of my fellow radiomen ever abused that power.  In fact, we had the authority of the First District Admiral, Commander of Base Boston, the Captain of the Port and the DO assigned for that day.

Some of the commanders of the four lifeboat stations under the command of Group Boston didn't like the fact that they had to go through us lower-ranking radiomen in certain situations... Too bad...

I remember well, the very first distress call that I handled after being "broken-in" by a more experienced radioman... It was a DIW; with no immediate danger to the captain or his crew -- mostly, family members...

After that initial bit of nervousness, I was ready for the "big time" mayday calls... And brother, did they ever pour in, especially during the summer months or during severe storms, when fishing boats called for assistance many miles from the safety and comfort of the inner harbor and terra firma...

During my three-and-a-half years at the Group Boston C.G. Base, I was involved in many life and death situations that demanded immediate action and assistance from our great rescue boat crews, C.G. helicopters and ships.  And we had some of the best of all the rescue stations along the entire Eastern Seaboard...

One of our coxswains, a slight throwback to the later "hippie" days, was in charge of one of our 41-footers... He found a boat lost in dense fog in short order: the call came in to me; a few minutes later, he was located safe and sound!  I figure that coxswain had the nose and hearing sense of a bloodhound!

Of course, there were many serious distress calls and rescues... Most of the time we, or some brother mariners, would effect a rescue even before the C.G. boat could come on scene.  In fact, those brother mariners knew that if they were in a similar situation, they too would hope and pray for a quick rescue regardless who effected it!  

"Coast Guard... Mayday, I'm taking on water (TOW)..." A potentially scary call...

The first question I ask: "Are you in immediate danger?"  Sometimes yes, and sometimes not so immediate, depending on many factors, including the severity, if any, of the weather...

Or, how about this: "Coast Guard, Coast Guard, my boat is on fire, Mayday, Help!"...

This captain was in dire straits... 

I ask him: "Captain, how many SOBs (souls onboard)?"  He answers: "Six, including my family!"  I ask: "Do you have your life jackets on?"  He answers: "No!"  I order him: "Get your life jackets on and call me back asap!"  In less than thirty seconds, he calls back to tell me all members now have their life jackets on...

Me: "Captain, get off the boat, swim away, and huddle together; our rescue boat is on the way!"

This is what happened next...

The boat burned down to the water line, but did not explode!  Even before our great rescue crew arrived, a civilian mariner pulled those wet and scared folks out of the water to safety... 

And that's how fast events can happen; from boredom to chaos, not in minutes, but in seconds, with lives in the balance...

I just wanted to relay these two incidents that occurred on my watch... There were many more and some ended in the loss of life...
I will never forget those whom we couldn't save... I leave them in God's merciful Hands...

Pray for strength and honor!

Viva Cristo Rey!  Bl. Fr. Miguel Pro, Fr. Emil Kapaun and Fr. Vincent Capodanno, pray for us...

St. Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle...

Gene DeLalla

PS: One more thing... Is our country "dead in the water," or is it "taking on water"... I'll let you decide.. If you have a comment, please let me know what you think -- and why.