Catch a Fallen Star

by Amy Vastine

  He and Gale had only arrived in Pacific Cove the day before and reported for duty at Air Station Astoria in Warrenton, Oregon, early that morning. They’d been transferred to District 13, also known as Sector Columbia River, under the auspices of performing an evaluation of the base’s search-and-rescue operations. Commander Pence had recommended a flyover in order to familiarize themselves with the area and conditions the SAR teams regularly worked in. Eli thought the reason for the ride sounded a little thin, but no one was going to second guess the commander. The real reason for their sudden transfer here didn’t have anything to do with SAR procedures, although they were both highly trained in the field.

  They were bombing up the coast, chatting with the crew about past rescues, when the call came in that another helicopter at a rescue scene was experiencing mechanical problems. They’d been asked to take over, which was no problem. Regulations ensured that each helicopter was interchangeable as far as equipment went and he could see that this crew knew their bird.

  “Pelletier, Kohen, you guys ready to go?”

  “Affirmative,” they both agreed. The question was rhetorical. Like every Coastie, both were always willing to put their knowledge and skills to use whenever and wherever needed. That fast and Eli went from passenger to RS at the ready.

  Eli knew the pilot, Lieutenant Commander Holmes. They’d flown together right after Eli had graduated flight school at Air Station Elizabeth City, North Carolina, where they’d both been assigned at the time. He’d only met the other crewmen, Petty Officers Johnston and Reeves, that morning. He was impressed with how quickly they now shifted from practice mission to life-and-death emergency. This was undoubtedly due to the fact that there had been no shift—they’d been ready. Semper paratus. Always Ready, as the Coast Guard motto stated.

  D13 included one of the most dangerous stretches of ocean in the world—the Columbia River bar, where the formidable Columbia River emptied into the Pacific Ocean. Having spent the happiest years of his childhood here, Eli knew it well. His dad had been a Coast Guard officer before him and he knew training here in the Columbia River Sector was top-notch. Flexibility was the hallmark of a Coastie and just being stationed here had given these men plenty of experience.

  Lt. Cdr. Holmes maneuvered the helo closer so they could get a better view, hovering next to the scene to avoid exposing the swimmer and survivor to the powerful blast of the helicopter’s rotor wash. Eli could see the swimmer and three survivors in the water below, two were in close proximity to each other, with the third a short distance away. Should be a simple, straightforward rescue, he thought.

  Flight mechanic and hoist operator, Petty Officer Johnston, was evaluating the scene. “Swimmer is with two survivors. Swimmer is signaling for basket. Thirteen minutes since survivors have been in the water.”

  With instructions from Johnston, Holmes flew the helicopter into position. Upon seeing the signal from the RS already in the water, Johnston dispatched the basket. A few short minutes later he added those sweet words every member of a rescue crew longs for. “Survivor One in basket. Survivor on the way up. Survivor halfway up...”

  In less than three minutes they were hauling the first drenched fisherman on board the chopper. Gale, who was also an EMT, went to work evaluating and warming the cold, shivering man.

  Soon, Johnston safely pulled up another survivor and said, “Swimmer is okay. Swimmer is away, headed for the third survivor.”

  With direction from his crew, Holmes moved the helicopter into place again and the third survivor was soon on board. The young man appeared to be hysterical, shivering, crying and jabbering excitedly.

  Gale attempted to calm him. He had a way with people and Eli wasn’t surprised when the kid immediately settled down. He reported, “Survivor is telling me there’s someone else in the water—”

  Johnston broke in. “Swimmer has radioed and confirmed. She’s headed toward the wreckage. Can anyone see another person in the water?”

  She? Eli felt a jolt of fear shoot through him. Eli knew that D13 had exactly one female RS at this point in time. There were only a few women currently certified in the entire Coast Guard. That meant Aubrey was down there doing the rescuing. Anxiety knotted his gut, creating a personal problem for him, he realized. Because, apparently, even after all these years, Aubrey in danger meant that the knight in him wanted to take over. That’s what she used to call it when he would try to help her or to do things for her. “Stop being such a knight, Pelletier. I can do it myself.” And usually she could, but that wasn’t the point.

  They were all scanning the ocean below, looking for the fourth person.

  “Swimmer is near the bow of vessel,” Johnston reported.

  His tension lessened slightly. Aubrey was an excellent swimmer, like a fish in the water. Or a mermaid. That’s what he used to call her. And, for a while there, she had been his mermaid. That had been the best time of his life.

  “Swimmer circling the bow, approaching the stern. Survivor Four spotted. Survivor in the water. Survivor appears entangled in debris. Twenty-five minutes.”

  Time crawled by as Johnston relayed Aubrey’s efforts to free the final survivor.

  Finally, Johnston said, “Survivor is seriously stuck in that net.” He muttered something unintelligible as a huge wave engulfed the boat.

  They all watched as Aubrey briefly disappeared from sight. Eli held his breath, expelling it when she finally surfaced several feet away.

  “Did that piece of debris hit her?” Johnston wondered aloud. “Did you guys see that?”

  Eli kept his eyes glued on her form, waiting for her to give the distress signal. What if it had hit her and she was disoriented and couldn’t signal? Eli felt the knot constrict as the danger of the situation sank in.

  * * *

  THE FIRST TWO rescues went smoothly. As smoothly as they could in high winds and rough seas, anyway. Aubrey approached the survivors one at a time, letting them know who she was and that she was there to help. She assisted each one into the basket and then the crew on board the helo successfully aided them into the aircraft. The third is where the situation evolved.

  The young man was highly stressed with hypothermia rapidly encroaching. After approaching him, she quickly signaled for the basket as he informed her through bouts of violent shivering that there was “one more.”

  “Person?” she asked. “One more person? On board?”

  “Yes, yes,” he cried.

  “Where?” she shouted.

  He shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t know. But Danny was with us, too. In the cabin and I... I couldn’t find... Please...” She couldn’t make out the rest of what he was saying as his sobs mingled with the roar of the ocean.

  “Calm down and tell me.”

  “By the boat. Look near the boat.”

  “Got it.”

  “You’ll go look?”

  The basket lowered and she worked quickly to get him inside.

  “Yes, but sir, you have to calm down and stay inside the basket, so we can get you on board. You’ll be fine. You’re almost there.”

  “But—” He reached for her again and Aubrey batted his hands away.

  “Keep your hands inside the basket at all times. If someone else is in the water, we’ll find him. I promise.”

  He nodded, crying pitifully now. She signaled to the helo to bring him up.

  She didn’t add that she was worried about the state that person might be in at this point. With high winds and water temperatures hovering around fifty degrees, hypothermia was almost a given at thirty minutes. It had been at least twenty since the captain had reported they were abandoning ship. Exhaustion, panic and waning consciousness tended to facilitate drowning beyond this time frame.

  As the basket ascended, she retrieved her emergency radio and informed Johnston of th
e situation. After the basket was safely inside the helo, she kicked hard with her fins, propelling herself toward the half-submerged vessel. She circled the bow and slowed, not seeing anything that looked remotely human. A large wave crashed over the vessel and that’s when she saw a flash of something... What was that? She watched, waited for it to show again.

  There it was. It wasn’t orange. But it was white—a common color for life preservers. She swam closer. As she neared the spot she realized it was, indeed, a person. Not a man, though, as she’d been expecting. A girl. Maybe a teenager? What was she doing out here? And without a life jacket?

  She heard a weak shout as she neared the girl who had her arms gripped tightly around the small, circular life preserver. Aubrey realized why no one had immediately spotted her from above. She was completely entangled in a mass of netting, so much so that from the air she was sure they couldn’t make out the form of a person. She would likely appear to be a blob of debris.

  What a mess, Aubrey thought, removing the knife from her equipment bag. She swam closer, taking care not to become entangled herself. A bolt of concern went through her as she noted the bluish color of the girl’s lips. But she was shivering and holding on, which meant the final stages of hypothermia weren’t setting in yet. She must have managed to stay out of the water until the boat began to submerge. She speculated that as the girl abandoned ship and the vessel tipped, the loose pile of netting had slipped overboard along with her, essentially trapping her right there with the wreckage.

  Aubrey called loudly when she reached the girl, “I’m a Coast Guard Rescue Swimmer and I’m here to help you.”

  The girl’s response was incomprehensible.

  “What’s your name?”

  It was difficult to hear her over the ocean’s angry roar. She repeated what she thought she’d heard. “Danielle?” Something occurred to her and she asked, “Danny?”

  “Yes.” The answer came out along with a choked sob and Aubrey sent up a silent thank-you. She’d worry about what the girl was doing out here without a life jacket later. Much later. After they’d survived this ordeal. Both the wind and rain had let up somewhat, but the fog was regrouping and settling in again like gobs of grayish-tinted cotton candy.

  “I’m Aubrey. It’s kind of cold for a swim today, huh? What do you say we get out of here?”

  All of this was said as she evaluated the situation. There was too much net for her to lift it off. With her swim knife, she began cutting away the netting. She tamped down her despair as she realized the extent of her entanglement. If she didn’t get her out soon, the sinking boat would pull her under.

  “I... I...can’t swim.”

  “Don’t worry, Danny. You won’t need to. I’m here now and luckily I swim pretty well. Are you injured?”

  “My leg,” she said. “I hurt my leg when I slipped off the boat, but I can’t feel it now...”

  “We’ll get it fixed up as soon as we get in the helicopter.”

  She glanced at the helicopter, her airborne sentry serving to keep her calm. Just a couple more minutes, she thought as she continued clearing the net, thankful that sharpening her knife was a part of her personal equipment check ritual.

  She kept talking to the girl as she worked. “Hold on, Danny. I’m almost finished. We’ll be out of here soon.”

  As if in argument, a giant wave rolled over the boat, swamping everything in its path. It brought with it a piece of debris, smacking Aubrey hard in the shoulder and grazing her head. The force knocked her backward as the wave pulled her under. Even submerged and disoriented, she knew not to inhale. Lungs burning, she waited patiently for the force to let up as she knew it would. Grateful for the often-tortuous but invaluable training instilled in her during “A” school, she finally broke the surface, inhaling a breath. Looking around, she realized she’d ended up a few yards away from Danny.

  Swimming back, she was afraid she’d find her survivor entangled even worse. Instead she was relieved to see that the wave had done them a favor, taking the remaining vestiges of the nylon netting with it. Danny was free. She reached out and pulled the girl into her arms, kicking hard with her fins, propelling them away from the wreckage. It would be easy to become tangled in something else in the floating and rapidly spreading mass of boat debris.

  That’s when she realized the helo had deployed another swimmer. She saw the form slicing cleanly through the water and imagined the situation must have looked far worse from the air. Her fellow swimmer stopped when he approached them.

  “Aubrey?” a deep voice called out to her. “Are you okay?”

  Her heart nearly stopped. Even with a mask and swim hood, she knew exactly who was now treading water before her. Removal of his mask and snorkel confirmed it. Finding herself face to face with Lieutenant Commander Eli Pelletier, former friend and one-time love of her life, a current of shock went through her. Not that she had time to think past the reaction, though, because she had a life to save.

  Far enough away from the wreckage to avoid potentially flying debris from the rotor wash, she signaled for the basket. The helicopter moved over them.

  “We’re good,” she shouted back.

  Seconds later and the basket was lowering toward them. She watched as he repositioned his mask and, in his irritatingly Eli way, he moved as if to take over.

  “I told you we’re fine. I’ve got this.”

  He backed off while Aubrey kept talking, encouraging the terrified girl as she assisted her into the basket. “You’re doing great, Danny. You’re going to be all right.” She signaled to raise the basket. Danny’s terror-filled eyes remained locked on hers as she rose up out of the water. “Almost home.” A sense of satisfaction settled upon her as the basket headed toward the helo.

  “What are you doing here?” she called after she signaled for the hoist hook to be lowered for their retrieval.

  “Helping you out?” he returned hopefully.

  She narrowed her eyes menacingly. He wasn’t helping, he was saving. Or that’s what he’d thought he was going to do. The first time she’d seen him in twelve years and he was trying to save her? How annoying.

  She didn’t need help or anything else from him. She certainly didn’t need saving.

  As the cable came down she reached for the hoist hook and deftly secured it to his V-ring. She lifted an arm, holding a thumbs-up, signaling he was ready to be hoisted.

  Copyright © 2016 by Carol Ross

  ISBN-13: 9781488009327

  Catch a Fallen Star

  Copyright © 2016 by Amy Vastine

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  chive.