Hail to our heroes in the Irish Coast Guard

Rescue 118 taking off from Sligo Airport in picturesque Strandhill.
Most days, when I am either sitting at home or out on the hills, I hear the distant murmur of Rescue 118, the rescue helicopter based at Sligo Airport near Strandhill. It is a reassuring sound and as it draws closer and closer, I never fail to be impressed by its power and speed.
I try to imagine the men and women that are in that helicopter and the mission they are taking on; an emergency call or a regular manoeuvre. The sight of 118 conjures up urgency and essential life-saving work in a great swirl of excitement and then… it has passed over, and the sound of its beating rotors fade away as it speeds to Galway or Dublin.
Sligo Airport provides the following information about Irish Coast Guard Search and Rescue.
The following is a brief chronology of the history of the Irish Coast Guard. The Coast Guard Service, as we know it today, has been in existence for over 200 years.
The Irish Coast Guard can trace its roots to 1822 after the passing of the Coast Guard Act in London. Initially, the Coast Guard took on revenue protection and coastal defence duties and acted as a reserve force for the Royal Navy. By 1860, there were approximately 200 Coast Guard stations around the country however, many of these were attacked and destroyed during the War of Independence and Civil War.
After the signing of the Anglo-Irish Treaty in 1921, the Coast Guard along with its 109 remaining stations were handed to the Irish Free State and remained as the Coast Life Saving Service. In 1990, the Irish Marine Emergency Service was established and in February 2000, this became ‘Garda Costa na hÉireann’ or ‘Irish Coast Guard’.
, Ireland's sailing, boating and maritime magazine, issued a commemorative article on the Coast Guard in 2022 and it provided further information that helps to complete a more complete picture of the service we have today.
Staff and volunteers from 44 Coast Guard units across Ireland provide a national maritime search and rescue service and a maritime casualty and pollution response service. Together, they respond to almost 3,000 call-outs and save on average 400 lives a year. Of the callouts, approximately half are maritime incidents, a quarter are inland search and rescue and another quarter involve assisting the National Ambulance Service. Modern volunteer Coast Guard units provide a combination of rescue boats, cliff rescue, shoreline search capabilities, and emergency community support in conjunction with other emergency services.

The Irish Coast Guard responds to, and co-ordinates, maritime accidents which require search and rescue and ship casualty operations. On average, each year, the Irish Coast Guard can expect to handle 3,000 marine emergencies, assist 4,500 people and save about 200 lives.
The men and women who operate this service and who volunteer within it, often risk their lives every day. This was painfully brought to our attention when in the early hours of March 14, 2017, rescue helicopter 116 crashed into the sea while supporting a rescue operation off our own Mayo coast. All four crew members on board, Captain Dara Fitzpatrick, Chief Pilot Mark Duffy, winch operator Paul Ormsby, and winchman Ciarán Smith were lost. Rescue 116 was on a night flight in poor weather conditions at the time of the accident. They had travelled cross-country from their base in Dublin.
For anyone to lose their life in such conditions is terrible but to lose these heroes, rushing to the aid of others, was utterly heart-breaking.
I once witnessed a nighttime search of a portion of the river Moy conducted by Rescue 118. Our whole valley was roused from our beds at midnight as the crew searched from on high for a person who had been reported missing. As it happened, it was a false alarm but the work was very real; the crew followed procedure as if a life depended on them. It was a most impressive scene with their powerful lights illuminating the familiar fields we only ever saw in daylight.
I have also had the experience of seeing a hill walker, who sustained a bad leg injury, being taken off a mountainside by the rescue helicopter crew. It wasn’t in the Ox Mountains but on a mountain in West Cork. Our group was instantly paralysed by the accident; unable to move forward or return to base. Often, when such accidents happen, the victim is far from public roads and so, they are beyond the assistance offered by regular ambulance crews or even a mountain rescue team. In such a situation, the rescue helicopter of the Coast Guard comes into its own.
As a group of fellow walkers keep vigil, the distant hum of the helicopter is heard. It beats closer and closer, until one imagines that the sound and the power cannot possibly get any stronger. But it does. The helicopter approaches, making its first survey of the scene. Will they be able to land nearby or will they have to hover? In one circle of the scene, they have decided; the mountainous terrain is too rocky, too uneven for them to attempt a landing. The rotors beat louder and the tornado created by them makes waves of the heather and the long grasses of summer. Then, like a giant kestrel, the helicopter hovers overhead. Soon, a crew member is dropped to make a quick assessment. Then a stretcher is dropped and then a second crew member. In a matter of minutes, the patient is secured and lifted to safety.
I often think how thrilling it must be to be lifted and spirited away in such a fashion but the reality is that most accident victims are almost completely unaware of the thrilling experience. But those of us who have waited at the scene are thrilled and impressed beyond measure.
If you live along the daily flight path of Rescue 118, close to the Ox Mountains, the next time you hear that distant but distinctive hum, stop to imagine their mission. The crew of 118 may simply be on practice manoeuvres or they may be on their way to save a life - a premature baby or an injured fisherman at sea - and as the beating draws closer, remember the crew of Rescue 116 that were lost in our service in March 2017.