Going beyond the call of duty: Hurricane Irma
“…distress calls from ships, yachts, shore stations, and even personal radios. Every community we flew over signalled to the aircraft that they needed help — flares, smoke, help signs, flashing lights…”
In 2017 Op RUMAN was the military response to the devastation caused by hurricane’s Irma and Maria in the Caribbean. RFA Mounts Bay was the ship that was stationed out there at that time.
Back in 2017, I was the Flight Commander for a 7-month deployment to the Caribbean region onboard RFA Mounts Bay. At the time I was serving from 815 Naval Air Squadron, based at Royal Naval Air Station Yeovilton.
I was the officer responsible for the Aircraft, flying standards, flight safety, flight personnel and advising the Captain on all matters concerning aviation activity onboard.
In the aircraft itself, I was the Flight Observer. I sat side by side with the single pilot, my flying role was; to be the aircraft captain. Which involved making difficult decisions on prioritisation and risk alongside my pilot and crew, operate the aircraft’s sensors (in this case camera and radar) and carry out all the work in the aircraft cabin. Including underslung loads, winching personnel and safely briefing and transporting passengers and casualties.
As aircrew, we were the first members of the UK Armed Forces to step foot on land in both locations. We instinctively put in practice the routines we had rehearsed in training over the previous 5 months and set out to conduct initial damage assessments as soon as it was safe to do so.
On both occasions, we transported the key island officials to the ship so that initial planning sessions could commence whilst we surveyed the damage — remaining conscious that our number one priority was saving lives and therefore ready to assist anyone in danger throughout.
We passed our intelligence information back to the ship and fed our prioritisation recommendations to the Captain, helping to form the immediate tasking.
No amount of BBC news or onboard discussion could prepare my pilot and myself for the sight we saw as we first flew over the British Virgin Islands (BVI). It was utter devastation, like something from a Hollywood movie. Having spent some time in BVI just weeks before the hurricane, we had gained a good appreciation of the area, the stunning beaches, shops and restaurants, and most importantly, the lovely people we had met during that time.
“Government officials and locals alike had become our friends and we had stayed in touch with a number of them. Suffice to say I hadn’t heard from any of them since the hurricane…”
Government officials and locals alike had become our friends and we had stayed in touch with a number of them. Suffice to say I hadn’t heard from any of them since the hurricane so seeing the initial devastation really hit home on a personal level let alone a natural human instinct level. After a few minutes of disbelief and silence in the aircraft (very rare indeed!) the enormity of the task hit home and we just got stuck into doing what was required.
Over the following few days, before the arrival of the UK troops, RFA Mounts Bay along with 0her Wildcat helicopter, and the entire Ship’s Company worked together, relentlessly, in exhausting heat and humidity, to save lives and relieve suffering.
Immediate tasks for the aircraft included delivering water and urgent medical supplies to the hospital, evacuating casualties from hard to reach areas, delivering food, water and first aid assistance to isolated communities, transporting teams of our engineers to sites to help curtail larger disasters (power stations) and to fix generators and water supplies to get essential services back online.
After the initial radio silence of day 1, communication networks started to crackle back into life and the aircraft (and ship) was bombarded with distress calls from ships, yachts, shore stations, and even personal radios. Every community we flew over signalled to the aircraft that they needed help — flares, smoke, help signs, flashing lights… but for us, it was a matter of prioritising tasks based on the information we had at the time, we couldn’t help everyone at once, and it was heart-breaking.
Conditions were extremely challenging. The humid weather, however, was both physically and mentally exhausting. Repeatedly jumping in and out of the aircraft with stores, people, maps, cameras, casualties… in full flying kit, helmet, visor, lifejacket, boots, was a sweaty business. I think I got through about 4 tops per day in that first week.
I was so proud of everyone involved from that ship (and later on from the UK Armed Forces). The British Virgin Islands particularly had a really special place in my heart and to see so many people so focussed on helping the people there was incredible. To keep that level of flying and work up for so long required a focus on the task and not on ourselves, and everybody there instantly switched to that mindset.
A few days after the hurricane I finally heard from our friends on BVI. They sent me a WhatsApp message saying:
“When we heard the sound of your helicopter after the hurricane, we all just burst into tears. It was the moment we knew the ship had arrived and everything was going to be alright.”
That was the proudest moment of my life.
Find out about how the UK Armed Forces, more recently, delivered lifesaving humanitarian supplies to those hit by, Hurricane Dorian, in The Bahamas:
