Military public affairs staff have a tough job: making the often-highly-technical ins and outs of military life understandable to the average American. I get this because it’s just as hard for military reporters. But when does “editing for clarity” become “spin”? I’ll let you decide.

On Friday, the Coast Guard published on its official blog a post signed by Karen Voorhees, a rescue swimmer. Later Karen denied writing the post, then backed down somewhat and said she had written a statement that simply went through some heavy editing. The Coast Guard A Coastie source was kind enough to send me Karen’s original draft, plus the initial published story. (A third version has since replaced the latter.) I’m reprinting both. Tell me: are these edits appropriate?

Karen Voorhees’ statement

The seas were angry …

On Wednesday the 12th of March at approximately 9:15 p.m., we (helo 6517) were coming back from hoist training with small boat station Indian River, Del., when we were directed by SFO Atlantic City, N.J., that we were to hot refuel at Air Station Atlantic City and proceed out to Manasquan to search for a possible life raft with 4 people on board.

The [operations center] received a Mayday call from the Capt. Joe. They were taking on water and were getting into their survival suits and deploying their life raft. Nothing else was heard.

We were the Bravo crew and we were to support the Alpha, however, they were completely shut down from their training flight and were actually behind us when we got on scene.

We both had different search patterns as we did not have a position however we immediately saw their strobes and as we got closer they lit off two flares. After a brief discussion we encouraged the other aircraft (6581) to come join us in the rescue, (the more swimmers the better). We immediately deployed me to the water and I swam over to the life raft. I confirmed everyone was accounted for and was told that the captain was the worst off with hypothermia and needed to get out first.

All four men were in survival suits and had all the survival equipment they needed to survive the conditions and for the water temps (40ish) were all in good shape, considering.

I took the captain out for a basket pick-up and while I was doing that, Petty Officer Downham was being hoisted down into the water, quite a distance away because we were closer doing a hoist. I went back for the second guy, picked him up and took him for a basket pick-up.

In the meantime Lake Downham got the third guy and passed me swimming back for the fourth though I didn’t see him (too busy) and delivered him to the 6517 so three of the four men were in the same helicopter.

When I got back to the raft for the fourth man I got on the radio to the 6517 who informed me that they were heading for the hospital and that the 6581 would pick up the last man and Lake and I.

I took the last man to the 81 after puncturing the raft and got him in the basket. I looked for Lake and saw him at the raft putting more holes in it to make it sink faster. We connected our harnesses together and where hoisted into the aircraft together. We then transferred the final person to Jersey shore memorial where the other three patients were already being treated.

Published version

The Seas Were Angry

On the night of March 12th, we were coming back from a routine hoist training session with small boat station Indian River, Del. when we got the call to refuel at Air Station Atlantic City and proceed to search for a possible life raft with 4 people on board near Manasquan Inlet, N.J.

We [the Coast Guard] received a Mayday call from the Capt. Joe, saying they were taking on water, getting into their survival suits and deploying a life raft.

Then the radio was eerily silent. Nobody was answering our calls from the Capt. Joe.

I was part of the backup helicopter crew, normally support the primary Search and Rescue aircrew. The primary crews was already shut down from their training flight and were actually behind us when we got on scene.

During the search, we saw strobes flashing among the blackness and as we approached the blinking strobes, two flares lit up the dark sky and we made a beeline to their position.

After discussing the situation with the other aircrew, we knew we were going to need backup in this rescue effort.

“The more swimmers the better,” I thought to myself.

Downham [the Rescue Swimmer from the second helicopter] got into the water a few hundred yards away and started swimming towards the bobbing liferaft. It took a little while to get there. Well about five minutes. It was a tough swim and seemed like an eternity.

Ten foot seas were coming at him and he [Downham] had to battle through them to get to the raft and the stranded people in it.

He had a hard time seeing the raft with the swells but finally he came down off a swell and he was there on top of the raft.

Anyway back to me. As we hovered overhead near the survivors, I prepared myself and my gear and was lowered from the helicopter into a challenging night time sea, battling 10 foot seas like Downham did moments before me.

When I arrived at the raft, I confirmed that everyone got off the fishing boat. The crew told me that their captain was in bad shape with hypothermia and needed to go first.

With 40-degree water temperatures, if these guys didn’t have survival suits on, this story likely would have a much sadder outcome. It is a good thing they had those suits on.

Taking the captain out of the raft, I swam with him to the waiting rescue basket that the aircrew man lowered to the water. Without the hoist operator on helicopter, I definitely couldn’t do my job.

I went back to the raft to get the second guy, and we successfully hoisted him in to the safety of the helicopter.

In the meantime, Downham got the third guy and passed me when I swam back for the last man in the raft. I was so focused on what I had to do, that I didn’t see my fellow rescue swimmer pass me with the third Capt. Joe crewmember.

I worked tirelessly to get three of the four up into my helicopter; I then grabbed my knife and punctured the liferaft so that it would sink.

With three of the four survivors on the helicopter I was on, I got on the radio and the pilot told me they were going straight to the hospital. Downham, one fishing boat crew member and myself were going in the second helicopter.

I met up with Downham, we connected our harnesses together, gave each other a jubilant high five and into the helicopter we went.

We then made a beeline for the hospital with one crewmember; during the entire flight, he continuously thanked us both.

This rescue effort is all about teamwork and training. Downham and I couldn’t have done it without the other members of our aircrews and the hard work and training we put into every rescue. We were all on the same wavelength.

I’m Aviation Survival Technician First Class Karen Voorhees, and this is my story.