John Lindsey jumps into the Saint Johns River in Jacksonville, Florida, from a SH-2F Seasprite helicopter on Sept. 28, 1983. 

John Lindsey jumps into the Saint Johns River in Jacksonville, Florida, from a SH-2F Seasprite helicopter on Sept. 28, 1983. 

In the early '80s, when I was young, lean and much stronger, I felt invincible. I certainly wasn't, but I felt that way.

I was a U.S. Navy search-and-rescue swimmer. We jumped from helicopters between 10 and 40 feet above the ocean into the water to save lives. There were two search-and-rescue schools in the early 1980s — one on the West Coast in San Diego and the other along the East Coast in Jacksonville, Florida. 

I attended search-and-rescue school at Naval Air Station Jacksonville in the middle of a hot and humid summer. The training was a physical and mental challenge that rocked you to your core. With a never quit attitude, I was able to graduate.

I've learned firsthand that one of the most exhausting things you can possibly do is save someone from the water. Many potential rescuers have become victims themselves in the cold clutches of the sea.

I write this to shine a light on a feat of unmatched strength and resolve by Petty Officer 1st Class Charles Jackson French during World War II. He was of African descent and from Foreman, Arkansas, where he learned to swim in the Red River at age 8.

Immediately after the Pearl Harbor attack, he went to the closest recruitment office and enlisted in the Navy for a second tour of duty.

According to a story by Bruce Wigo:

"Petty Officer French swam through shark-infested waters towing to safety a raft load of wounded seamen from the USS Gregory, sunk by Japanese naval gunfire near Guadalcanal. Ensign Adrian was the only one on the bridge to survive and floated over into the water as the ship sank below him. Hearing voices, he found a life raft filled with 24 wounded men; though superficially wounded, he was able to hang on. 'I knew that we'd be taken as prisoners of war if we floated ashore,' he said. Then French volunteered to swim the raft away from shore. He stripped off his clothes and asked for help to tie a rope around his waist and tow them to safety. Adrian told him it was impossible, that he would only be giving himself up to the sharks that surrounded them. French responded that he was not afraid. He was a powerful swimmer and swam all night, six to eight hours until they were eventually saved by a landing craft."

If you were taken prisoner of war in the Pacific theater, your chances of survival were low. A few years later, at the end of the war, the USS Indianapolis was torpedoed by a Japanese submarine. From a crew of 1,196 sailors and Marines, 300 went down with their ship. Only 316 were rescued after nearly four days in the ocean. Many died from dehydration, exposure, saltwater poisoning and shark attacks — in what is believed to be the deadliest attack by the predators.

French became a national hero, and he made public appearances across the country to promote the sale of war bonds. He was called the "human tugboat."

He was later inducted into the International Swimming Hall of Fame. It was said by follow crew members, "Not many can say they pulled a raft full of 24 injured sailors through a shark-infested ocean at night and away from Japanese capture."

Another hero, but closer to home, is Rory McDermott, who graduated from Cal Poly with a degree in electrical engineering. He is currently a Pacific Gas and Electric Co. distribution engineer in San Luis Obispo.

Last winter, McDermott noticed a young lady in distress at the 6th jetty between the Ventura Pier and harbor where he was surfing.

During winter, a strong southerly flowing current often develops along that part of the coastline due to the predominant northwesterly swell. The water is bunched up against the north-facing side of the jetty and forced out to sea like a rip current.

The lady was struggling and trying to swim against the current as she attempted to get to the beach. McDermott approached her on his surfboard and asked if she needed help. She was so tired that she could barely speak but indicated that she needed help.

McDermott helped her get on his board and swam perpendicular to the current, pulling the board with the leash on his ankle. At one moment, the board became much heavier. The lady had passed out, and her head was underwater. McDermott returned her to a better position and noticed that she displayed the additional drowning symptom of foaming at the mouth. With enormous physical effort, McDermott made it back to shore where his surfing companions — his brother, Max, and his friend Davis Ulrich — had called 911 and helped to get her on the beach. She had a pulse and was quickly put into an ambulance by first responders.

Without McDermott's intervention, it is very likely the swimmer would have drowned. McDermott's heroic efforts saved a life in his community. After the rescue, McDermott was totally exhausted.

John Lindsey is Pacific Gas and Electric Co.’s Diablo Canyon Power Plant marine meteorologist and a media relations representative. Email him at pgeweather@pge.com or follow him on Twitter @PGE_John.

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