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Arctic Journal Series - CGC Healy Part 3
9/10/2008 8:02:00 AM
Arctic Ocean, Monday, Sept 7th
Musings of an Arctic Sea Captain
Well, word from the beach arrived and told me to keep the blog shorter, and make it more personal. Today, I’ll try to offer a glimpse into “what it’s like to be the Captain of Healy”. I summarize it in three words: Service, Responsibility, and Pride. 
Service. Like the other 42,000 men and women wearing a Coast Guard uniform, I choose to serve the country and ideals greater than myself. The men and women of the Coast Guard are an extremely talented and motivated group. We’re imminently employable in the private sector, in many cases, for greater financial rewards. But riches can’t buy job satisfaction. I want to leave our country and planet better than I found it, for my kids, and for their kids. The work on an agenda that large is never done. For me, the Coast Guard’s mission set provides a tangible way to make things better. In the case of Healy, we are doing the work needed to preserve arctic resources, and protect life and property as arctic development accelerates.
Responsibility. Leading 80 of our nation’s finest sailors and 30-50 of our best and brightest scientific minds on a modern polar expedition is a weighty responsibility. Their safety is on my mind every waking hour. Every ship at sea must be self-sufficient. We are our own power, light, propulsion, water, and sewage company; our own fire department and emergency room; our own hotel, restaurant, health club, movie theater, chapel and science lab. Operating 500-600 miles north of Barrow with a satellite phone for communications amplifies that isolation.
The prospect of a medical emergency is the one that weighs heaviest, largely because we can’t control it and our ability to respond is limited. Our Physician’s Assistant is immensely talented. But his skills and facilities end at minor surgery—if someone needs a procedure requiring general anesthesia, it’s a 3-5 day sail to Barrow, followed by a life-flight to Fairbanks. A big part of being the captain is to constantly think and re-evaluate the ship’s operations, the weather, the crew’s endurance. Captains get paid to constantly ask themselves: What can go wrong? How will we deal with it? What can we do to reduce the risk? What am I not thinking of (that I should be)?
We can’t eliminate the risks inherent in going to sea or operating in the extreme remoteness and weather of the Arctic. But we can be smart about managing the risks. My job is to get the mission done and to bring the people and ship back in one piece. Simple to say; harder to do.
By tradition and necessity, the job of sea captain is fairly lonely, even when you’re surrounded by 130 people for several months. We can be very social and care deeply about our crew…yet it’s prudent to leave a little separation, to stay a little aloof, because eventually the captain will face a decision requiring the utmost objectivity—probably a decision with no “good” options.
Pride. When I tell people what I do for a living, their reaction tends to be one of “being impressed”. I think this is born of an impression that the job is one of great privilege, respect, and perhaps ego. There’s a grain of truth to that, but only a grain: there are some good perks, and I don’t know a sea captain without at least enough ego to be confident in their abilities. Yet, I submit that the pride of being the Captain of Healy is much humbler than that. I’m humbled to be assigned the responsibility and the opportunity to serve. I’m proud to be collaborating among federal agencies to advance national interests, especially during a time when so much of the nation is cynical about the ability of the government to work constructively and efficiently. Above all, I’m proud to serve with our nation’s finest young people who absolutely impress me every day with their energy, dedication, idealism and service. I’m not alone in these views. The Coast Guard is a small service and the sea captains all know one another. You’ll find servant leadership a key quality in all my colleagues.
Just for fun. By Coast Guard standards, I am an old man at age 45. In light of our medical strategy, maybe that’s a good thing! Certainly the strange hours and physical stress of extreme climate favor the young man. Middle age seems like a nice balance of experience and youth for the captain.
For 23 years, I’ve counseled Coast Guard people considering other careers to have a clear plan that will make them happier. I tell them, “There will be time enough to work at Wal-Mart when you’re old.” I had to remind myself of that lesson last spring when my orders arrived and I contemplated leaving my wife and children for the better part of two years. It wasn’t a simple decision, but it was the right one for us.
I’m going to leave the blogging to the crew for a while.
Captain Fred Sommer
Commanding Officer, USCGC Healy