LT John Abbott was still over North Korea when he reported himself in trouble.  In a smoke-filled cockpit, he nursed his crippled Corsair out to sea before abandoning it.  Two minutes and fifteen seconds after flight quarters were sounded, Crawford and I were airborne.  The fifteen second margin (shorter than our previous best time) probably spelled the difference between life and death for John Abbott.

CIC gave us the vector as we lifted off.  We were well on our way when Abbott's wingman, (LT Laney) reported the bailout, splashdown, and that Abbott had inflated and boarded his raft.  Within but a few minutes after he had entered the water we were over him.  But he had been unable to release his parachute and so, acting as a sea anchor, it had dragged him from the raft.  He looked quite comfortable, floating on his back, and greeted us with a smile.

Crawford, sling in hand ready to lower it, was concerned about the still-attached chute.  "If he can get in it," I told him, "we can pull him high enough to for you to cut the shrouds."

From the vantage of the raft, Crawford easily hooked the survivor sling around Abbott and drew it tight.  He drew his knife then, and reached beneath Abbott to gather the shrouds and cut them.  Momentarily, however, his right hand came back in view, empty.  His hands were so benumbed by the cold water that he had not even felt the knife slip away.

An oversight in equipage; we should have had a lanyard on his knife so he could retrieve it in such case.  There was no way now, with benumbed hands and other handicaps, that he could expect to remove Abbott's parachute.

Had there been little or no wind, it remains questionable if that HO3S could have lifted Abbott and his parachute from the water.  I frankly think it could have, and would have certainly tried if necessary.  But I didn't have to make that decision.  For while holding alongside as Crawford worked, our sweet old HO3S wasn't hovering.  She was riding the wind above the waves like an albatross; twenty of more knots of wind.  We had more than hovering power, we had translational lift.  The same force which had dragged Abbott from his raft and rendered him helpless, would now help us for certain pull him out.

Now Crawford, aware that we were supposedly not able to pick up a man in that condition, was waving the snaphook of the sling he'd attached to Abbott in a manner questioning if he should hook it on.  I nodded "Yes" and moved to bring the cable within his reach.  To do that it was necessary to move directly over Ernie to a point where he disappeared from view.  Then drifting back brought him into view with hoist cable reaving through the hook.  Ernie, still in the raft, was now giving the thumbs-up signal. The raft was still attached to Abbott.  Crawford had overlooked that little detail.  Probably his numb fingers could not have unhooked it anyway.  And any signal trying to get him to unhook the raft might be interpreted as a signal to unhook Abbott from the cable, instead.  So the process was begun to bring up the unconscious man.

Chief Thorin demonstrates the special sling used in the rescue to Air Chief Marshall Sir George Pirie (June, 1952)

Holding just six or eight feet above the water, the cable was retrieved until it became taut.  From that point the hoist must remain static until both Abbott and his parachute were clear of the water.  To activate the hoist mechanism before that would either rupture its fluid lines or pull the helicopter down to the water.

While the chute was still in the water, full power of the rotor could not be used.  Because the hoist boom projected far out to the left, there was not enough "right stick" to counter that much leverage.  Still, with only the maximum of power which could be used and yet keep the machine level, we were lifting somewhat faster than expected.  An upward surge as the chute came free of the water was so sudden as to cause worry that the man had been pulled out of the sling.

A quick leftward tilt revealed that he was still there.  It also revealed that the "tug-of-war" between the helicopter and the sea must have been a bit rough on the body which was caught between them.  The draft of the chute against the lift of the helicopter had brought one of Abbott's arms up to parallel with his shoulder and the other nearly so.

Moments later there was another upward surge, and lessening of pressure on the right stick, sufficient again to cause worry that he had slipped out of the sling.  But this time it was caused by the very last of the water draining out of the chute.  The trapped water we had brought up initially must have weighed several times as much as the man.

Now it was safe to use the hoist.  I triggered to its very top and reached to hang Abbott on the hook which was there for that purpose.  After that the cable could be lowered again to pick up Crawford.  But the streamed chute began to billow.  It could possibly foul the tail rotor.  The man had to be lowered to eliminate that danger.

Crawford would have to wait.  We had discussed such a possibility.  We had placed an extra seatpack raft within my reach to be dropped to him in such an event.  I called the still-circling wingman (Laney) and told him I had his man clear of the water and would depart with him after dropping a raft to my crewman.  Laney responded that he would deliver a raft to my crewman, so that I could depart at once.  I headed seaward and called Rochester for a vector.  The full-blossomed chute acting as an airbrake held the helicopter to a maximum speed of about 40 knots.