Search and Rescue Duty Officer

When I was a junior officer in the late 1970s I stood frequent overnight watches as the Group Operations Duty Officer in New Orleans. Calls for U.S. Coast Guard assistance came to me after daytime business hours hours as the “GODO.” Weekends there were often calls for assistance in locating an “overdue” sport fisherman; calls made by a worried relative, frequently a wife. The calls usually came as night began to fall. Some of these I thought of as “miracle calls,” i.e., the caller expected a miracle. Here is a reconstruction of a typical miracle call.

“Coast Guard?”

“Yes, ma’am. Lieutenant Oldbull speaking. How may I help you?”

“My husband went fishing and hasn’t come home. He was supposed to be home two hours ago.”

“Let me get some information from you.”

“OK.”

“Where did he go fishing?”

“I’m not sure. They talked about Empire [Louisiana, a small community near the mouth of the Mississippi River].”

“Is that near Pass Manchac, Mr. Coast Guard?”

After I became an experienced watch stander I knew such a question was the opening salvo of a miracle call.

“No ma’am. Pass Manchac is100 miles northwest of Empire.”

“Well it might be either one of those or ….”

“Yes ma’am. What make of vehicle was he driving?”

“I don’t know.”

“He was with someone else in the other person’s vehicle?”

“Yes.”

“Give me the other person’s name please.”

“Frank or Fred or something.”

“Last name ma’am?”

“I don’t know.”

“Were there just the two of them?”

“I don’t know. Why are you asking me all these questions? Can’t you just go out there and find them?”

[At this point there is muffled sound of voices and weeping. Another woman then comes on the line. She has dealt with government bureaucrats before and knows how to cut through red tape and get action.]

“Whyf the hell are you asking my sister-in-law all these stupid questions? She is seven months pregnant and you’ve upset her! Just go our and find him!” Click the connection is broken.

Although I called them “miracle calls” I did become savvy enough over time so that once in a while I could pull a rabbit out of my garrison cap. Here is my follow up call.

“Hook, Line ‘n Sink Her”. [A gogo and fishing bait store in Empire, Louisiana across the road from the public boat launch.]

“Yes sir, this is Lieutenant Oldbull with the Coast Guard in New Orleans. Will you do me a favor?”

“Whazzat.”

“Check with your customers and see if one of them has a wife seven months pregnant.”

Voice yelling, “Hey this is the Coast Guard on the phone looking for a guy whose wife is seven months pregnant went out fishing today.”

“Hey, uh, hello this is Bubba, yeah my wife is pregnant, I think seven months I don’t remember when I knocked her up but it sure was fun Coast Guard.”

“Mr. Bubba, do us a big favor and call your wife; let her know you’re okay.”

“Alright, Mr. Coast Guard, did you say Lieutenant? I hate f___ing officers. No offense.”

“Yes sir, Mr. Bubba, you will call her okay?”

“I’m gonna call her right now Mr. Officer, Looootentant, an’ tell her not to be callin’ no Coast Guard OFFICER about my ass.” Click

Mission complete.