Taking the plunge

POLSON — “You’ll feel like a Teletubby,” warned Matt Sisler, as I prepared to shadow the Polson Fire Department’s ice rescue team during a recent training exercise.

Moments later, when I zipped into one of the yellow, insulated, waterproof suits, I understood what Sisler had meant.

Sisler and a group of his firefighter colleagues (as well as one member of Lake County Search and Rescue) were using the afternoon to practice ice rescue operations and had graciously agreed to show me the ropes — or rather, the rope, which I’d use to harness a pretend victim and haul them from the freezing winter waters of Flathead Lake.

Before doing so, simply getting into the Teletubby suit was an adventure of its own.

It’s nearly impossible not to fidget with the suit’s built-in gloves – instinctively attempting to remove them while adjusting the suit’s zipper – before realizing that they are fused to the sleeves. (Mistakenly trying to remove the gloves is such a common occurrence that the team has even made a game out of it, determining that the first person to get tricked will need to pay for a round of drinks later.)

Once you’re zipped in to the point where it’s uncomfortable to move your chin, the next step is to “burp” the air out of the suit so that you don’t look as bloated as the Michelin Man upon entering the water. This is done by tugging at the neck of the face hole and crouching down to expel the bulk of the excess air trapped in the suit.

Inevitably, however, some stray air remains, but that was purged later in a second round of burping done after entering the water, which squeezes the air up above the surface.

Once we had suited up and a triangular opening had been chainsawed through the six-inches-thick ice, it was time for the real work to begin.

Although victims quickly lose their motor skills and swimming ability in the freezing water, they are still capable of bear hugs, thereby posing a threat to their rescuers (and themselves), should they desperately latch on to a first responder.

Rescues are further complicated since victims are often found clinging precariously to a fragile ledge of ice, which may break during the rescue, potentially thrusting them back into the water. For escaping the water, the rescue suits come equipped with miniature plastic ice picks tied to their sleeves, which can be used to help claw your way onto a slippery sheet of ice.

Mindful of the basic dangers, we took turns performing individual one-on-one rescues, with a mock victim occupying the hole while a responder went to work.

Safely tethered to the rest of the team, the rescuer would approach the victim and talk them through the rescue procedure. The rescuer would then enter the water and secure a rope around the victim’s torso before giving the signal to have them hoisted to safety by the team members on the other end of the line.

During my rescue attempts, I was a bit clumsy with the carabiner and didn’t do a great job of supporting the victim’s head as they were dragged across the ice, but the official members of the unit all did very well and were receptive to feedback and constructive criticism offered by the group.

Everyone had multiple rescue opportunities and practiced with the victim in a variety of positions (clinging to the edge of the ice; legs tucked under the ice ledge; unresponsive and floating on their back), some of which proved to be a bit tricky.

And with safety being the top priority at all times, after the exercise was completed, the crew was sure to push the submerged section of ice back into place, like a golfer replacing a divot. The refilled hole was then encircled with caution tape until it solidly refroze.

While I wouldn’t like my chances in the hypothermia-inducing waters of the lake, it was reassuring to meet the brave men and women whose around-the-clock vigilance and preparedness was on full display during the exercise.

Thank you, Chris McGuinness, Matt Sisler, Julie Sisler, Martin Sago, Verner Rose, Carol Swope and Stacy Violett for a fun and informative afternoon!