Last year was an incredible year for saving lives. In 2009, the NAS Whidbey Island Search and Rescue (SAR) squadron logged 620 training hours, 728.9 flight hours and made 19 incredible rescues. 

It’s not just the job of EMT’s, paramedics, doctors and firefighters. When a life needs to be saved, often in some of the most dangerous conditions and locations imaginable, it’s the SAR crews who are trained and ready to answer the call.

The SAR squadron, working out of hangar 1, is composed of two, MH-60S Knighthawk helicopters, five pilots, eight rescue swimmers, two search and rescue medical technician, a talented maintenance crew and civilian technicians.  

Hospital Corpsman 2nd Class Andrew Peterson recalls his most memorable rescue of 2009.

“In August I was on duty and had back-to-back rescue calls. I was so excited because it was my first rescue,” said Peterson.

Peterson described the events: On Saturday they rescued a 17-year old female. He was lowered 100 feet to the mountain’s edge in pretty rough weather to get her from her tent and into the helicopter. And the next day they rescued a hiker from the Cascade Mountains who had fallen and fractured his tail bone.

“There is nothing like getting into the helo and knowing you are going to save someone’s life today,” said Peterson. 

Aviation Warfare System Operator 2nd Class Salomon Padilla described his most memorable mission.

“We were on the American and Canadian border to rescue a family walking through the mountains trying to get back into America,” said Padilla. “It was freezing out and they had a child with them. We dropped them off safely at the border patrol and then our helicopter broke down. It was a 16-hour drive for someone to come and fix our chip detector.”

“It was a very long day, but nothing is more rewarding than the look in people’s eyes when you rescue them,” said Padilla. “Knowing that they wouldn’t have survived the night if they weren’t rescued is the best reward and my favorite part of my job.”  

It’s tough duty and dangerous at times, but the pilots and aircrew, who consider themselves as being lucky enough to call these orange and grey rescue birds their “office in the sky,” wouldn’t have it any other way.