My Coast Guard Option

My Coast Guard Option, Excerpts

Author: Timothy Close

Preface

I got a call at about 0130 on a Sunday morning. We had another SAR case. The command center relayed the key information: four men in a 22-foot boat who went out fishing Saturday morning were overdue. They were well overdue, and the wife of the boat owner (and one of the four missing men) was very concerned. She said they were never this overdue, and her husband always called as soon as the boat got back into port. She had no idea where they went fishing, other than it was offshore. At some point in the evening, she had contacted a friend of her husband who frequently went fishing with him and who was an experienced boater, but he did not know where they had gone. The command center also spoke with the friend, and he indicated that the GPS on the boat had numerous locations identified well offshore where they had success fishing on other trips, but he did not have that information stored anywhere else. And the command center passed the information that two of the four men were current NFL players. While that fact was not important relative to the SAR effort, we all knew that the case would attract media attention that other cases under similar circumstances would not.

I could tell immediately that the weather had deteriorated because I could hear the wind blowing hard, but the Command Center added the details. A sunny, breezy Saturday with the air temperature in the sixties and one to two feet waves had changed that evening to strong winds, fully overcast skies, temperatures in the forties, and ten to twelve feet waves offshore. We were aware from the start that the sea conditions and the weather made this case a fight against the clock.

Introduction

This is my memoir of my thirty years in the U.S. Coast Guard from 1982 to 2012. I wanted to capture some experiences and share some perspectives. But understand clearly, these are my perspectives: correct, incorrect, jaded, or otherwise. Hopefully, you will find them interesting and valuable. The times may have been different, and the technology certainly was, but the human emotions, desires, motivations, and stressors were mostly the same as they have always been and will always be.

Along the way, I had the privilege of making some close friends and working with some outstanding people. I learned a lot about leadership; some by witnessing what some excellent leaders did, some by watching and noting how not to handle things. I got to participate in some things I never dreamed of doing. I also got the chance to make a difference, and ultimately, that is what mattered the most.

Commanding Officer and Captain of the Port (2002-2004)

In late summer of 2003, we learned that the G8 Summit would take place in June 2004, about an hour from Savannah on the coast. The G8, or Group of Eight, consisted of the eight largest industrialized countries. In 2004, they were the U.S., Canada, France, Germany, Italy, Japan, Russia, and the United Kingdom. The meeting would involve the heads of state for each of those countries, plus numerous other invited heads of state. The meetings rotated between the countries, and it was the U.S.’s turn to host.

The more we learned about the summit, the more we recognized the complexities of the security challenges. The Coast Guard would be on tap to provide security on the water and coordinate with numerous other federal, state, and local agencies. The planning needed to start right away.

I asked Lieutenant Commander Alan Reagan to lead the planning effort. He was a reserve officer who had been called up right after 9-11 and had been at MSO Savannah since then. He was a Georgia native and an excellent officer gifted with a lot of common sense. At the unit, he was in charge of port security and boarding teams and was doing an excellent job. He had a huge role during the military outloads and deserved a lot of credit for its success. I was blessed to have him there.

He quickly developed a rapport with the two Secret Service agents who had been assigned to meet with us and provide needed input for our planning for the G8 Summit. Although not all of the details of the summit were locked in, the Secret Service agents shared key information as it became available and provided best-guess predictions for the details that were not yet settled.

Our first challenge was going to be geography. The dignitaries and the summit meetings were primarily on Sea Island, Georgia. It was accessible by one road from St. Simons Island, that itself was only accessible via one causeway from Brunswick and the mainland. That gave us two key bridges to secure, plus many miles of waterway around Sea Island and St. Simons Island and the offshore waters, too.

The second biggest challenge would be assessing the threats that we might have to deal with. There was a terrorist threat because so many heads of state would be tempting targets. Additionally, there was a threat from various anarchist groups, ANTIFA, black bloc groups, and protestors who were organized in varying degrees. Some of those groups had demonstrated the ability to show up in large numbers, be rowdy, be creative in their activities, and occasionally get violent.

The third biggest challenge would be the resource constraints from within the Coast Guard. We knew we would have to explain and justify in great detail every Coast Guard person, weapon, aircraft, cutter, and dollar we asked for. We would also have to be as spendthrift as possible and demonstrably so.

We recognized from the start that it was going to be a large-scale effort and that the logistics would be vitally important, especially in an area like Brunswick, Georgia, where we had very little Coast Guard infrastructure. There was a small Coast Guard Station in Brunswick in a small facility with just a few boats and crewmembers. That would never work as a staging area, command center, logistics base, or anything else beyond a boat ramp.

This multi-day event would require security all day, every day, starting before the dignitaries arrived and lasting until the last one had departed. We briefed my boss and the rear admiral at the District in Miami, Rear Admiral Harvey Johnson. They were very supportive, but I knew issues would arise when we started asking for resources. So, I briefed them early and often.

At one of the briefings, one of the captains on the District staff asked me why I should be the person to lead the Coast Guard effort. I suspected I knew what they were thinking. I was just a Marine Safety guy used to dealing with commercial ships and port issues, and they wanted someone with more operational experience in charge. I was a bit surprised because we were several months into the planning at that point, and I was also a bit annoyed. I replied that one of my several legal titles as Commanding Officer of Marine Safety Office Savannah was Federal Maritime Security Coordinator. That title came with legal authorities just like my other titles as Captain of the Port and Officer in Charge, Marine Inspection. I explained that this was a federal case that involved maritime security and was already requiring a heck of a lot of coordination. Therefore, as the Federal Maritime Security Coordinator, who else should be in charge? They bought that argument but assigned a captain from the District staff to be their point of contact and attend various meetings with me and my staff to better keep the rear admiral apprised. I figured that the liaison would do no work, be responsible for nothing, and just get in the way a bit. As it turned out, I figured correctly.

The way the Coast Guard shoreside operational units were organized in 2004, Coast Guard Groups owned the small boat stations, many of the patrol boats, and all of the search and rescue missions, plus some law enforcement missions, aids to navigation missions, and a few others. The boundaries of the Groups did not align with the boundaries of the Marine Safety Offices, which were based more on the volume and locations of commercial shipping activity. The Coast Guard Group boundaries were based on the workloads associated with the boating public and law enforcement needs. As a result, a big part of the planning and coordination involved Coast Guard Group Charleston led by Commander Jim Tunstall, and Coast Guard Group Mayport, FL led by Commander Mark Wilbert. Both of them and their staff were engaged and invaluable during the planning and the operation itself. They were good people, and we worked together just fine.

Additionally, we involved  Coast Guard Air Station Savannah led by Commander Pete Troedsson. They flew H-65 helicopters and we knew they could be an important part of the operation. Several months into the planning of the operation, we were approached by the Secret Service agents assigned to us and asked if the Coast Guard would be willing and able to provide the slow-speed air interdiction component of the air security during the event. This would entail having a helicopter warmed up and manned in the Brunswick area ready to interdict any aircraft that entered the restricted airspace. And it would involve a second aircraft standing by in case the first had a mechanical issue when it had to launch. The interdiction was not an armed action, but more of a “see who it is and get them to land before we shoot them down.” The Secret Service approached us when one of the State of Georgia agencies that had been asked couldn’t decide if they wanted to take on the mission or not. They remained undecided for too long. We were the second option, and the Secret Service knew that we would at least give them a timely answer.

Pete Troedsson noted that the Coast Guard had never done that mission before, but he was willing to do it and there was still sufficient time to get the pilots and crews training properly. We would need to get permission from the District Commander in Miami before we could commit. The first call was to the District’s Chief of Staff, who felt strongly that it was not something we should do. But when we briefed the Rear Admiral Johnson, the admiral gave an immediate and resounding, “Hell, yes!” With that, the planning expanded. The Coast Guard aviators were thrilled to have a bigger role in the operation, and it just felt like the right thing to do. 

As we got closer to the start of the G8 Summit, news coverage ratcheted up and the protestor groups started to make some noise. One of the advantages we had was that the Summit was taking place in a small town. While that fact presented some minor logistics challenges for us, it meant the support in the local community to house, shelter, feed, and support the expected protestors was extremely limited. Plus, the Summit took place in early June, and South Georgia can be a brutally hot place to stand outside and protest or march.

While almost all of the Summit activity would be around Sea Island, there would be an event or two up the coast in downtown Savannah. We expected that some of the local Savannah population would likely be a bit more supportive of the protestors. Between the college students at the Savannah College of Art and Design and some of the eclectic residents and old hippies, there would potentially be a larger support network there than in the Brunswick/Sea Island area. We lived in Savannah and one evening, several weeks before the start of the operation I was out walking the dog when I was approached by a neighbor. I had seen him before but didn’t know him. He was in his 50s with longish hair, was well dressed as he usually was, and as usual, had a glass of wine in hand while letting his dog get some exercise in a small park nearby.

He asked, and I confirmed that I was involved in some of the security for the event. He said he just wanted to let me know a few things. Savannah was his home, he loved it and was proud of it. He said he was also the kind of guy who would stop in the middle of the street and pick up a piece of trash to help keep Savannah looking good. He wanted to let me know that a certain woman who had been on the news offering her home and support to the G8 Summit protestors angered him. Further, he offered that if any of those protestors damaged his city of Savannah in any way, he would go over and burn her house down. I knew he wasn’t serious, but I recognized his pride and willingness to protect his city. I chuckled and told him that if the city was damaged by protesters and he went to her house, he might have to get in line to set it on fire! He appreciated that and wished us good luck. Savannah does have a certain endearing charm.

About a month before the expected start date, we had an all-agencies tabletop exercise in Brunswick. The purpose was to establish coordination and communication. I drove down the evening before. I felt like I was coming down with something, but decided I would gut it out. That night in my hotel room, I was in a lot of pain in my lower right abdomen. I wasn’t doubled over but couldn’t stand up straight for long. It sort of felt serious, but sort of felt like it might pass. I tried to sleep, but I was too uncomfortable. It started to feel serious. Not being sure what to do, I prayed hard and asked Mother Teresa to intercede on my behalf and help me. A physical therapist that my wife worked with many years before had worked briefly with Mother Teresa in India and had mentioned her soft and healing hands, and how she never wore surgical gloves when treating patients. I asked Mother Teresa to take whatever was wrong with me, hold it in her healing hands, and surround it. I prayed a lot that night.

The next day, the pain was still there. I made it through the tabletop exercise and drove home, but by dinner, I was hurting. Peggy took me to the emergency room. You know it’s possibly serious when you describe your symptoms and the triage nurse immediately takes you back with no waiting. After lots of poking, prodding, scanning, and head-scratching, the doctors felt it was probably my appendix. They scheduled me for surgery the next day and described it, in part, as “exploratory surgery.” I thought they stopped doing that in the 1960s.

It turned out to be my appendix, but it had ruptured some months previously. The surgeon remarked that it was the first time he had ever seen a ruptured appendix where all of the ruptured infection stayed encapsulated in one place. Thank you, Mother Teresa.

Thinking back, I had had some acute pain in that area almost two years prior, but the pain went away, and the fever was gone in one day. It must have sat there for those many months festering. That explained why they also had to remove some adjacent intestine that had been seriously irritated from the infection pressing up against it all that time. It took a few weeks to fully recover, but I had work to do, and Mother Teresa was by my side.