WEST BAY COASTGUARD

By Jake Lanning

Sunday morning with my two young boys; my wife was having a much-needed lie in and I was busy preparing breakfast.

No sooner had I put the food on the table when the relative calm was shattered by the shrill paging tones from my phone.

This would be the fifth callout in under 72 hours.

‘Do you have to go rescue again daddy?’ asks my eldest. ‘I think so,’ I replied, reaching for my phone. His face fell - I knew he was looking forward to playing some computer games with me. ‘Is that another shout?’ my awoken wife called from upstairs.

I checked the incident notes. A collapsed 57-year-old with a cardiac history. I tapped my response code into the phone and made for the front door grabbing my car keys.

My wife appeared from nowhere with a bottle of water and one of the kids’ flapjacks. She knew I hadn’t eaten yet.

My eldest comes running after me. ‘Take this for your rescue daddy’. He handed me his prized Transformers ‘Rescue Bot’ and beamed with pride.

My youngest started crying, confused as to why daddy was suddenly leaving him.

I said my quick ‘goodbyes’ and ran to the car, my mind full of the incident I was responding to.

I could hear my wife consoling the kids as she closed the front door behind me.

People have said to me what heroes they think we all are.

While I agree that the sacrifice and commitment a coastguard officer makes is considerable, the real heroes are the ones that we abruptly leave behind not knowing where we’ve gone, when we’ll be back and all for the benefit of people we don’t even know.

The interrupted birthdays, anniversaries, meals and family time – the true sacrifice is theirs.

They are the real heroes.