HOUSTON (AP) — Rain poured over Harris County Deputy Kendal Carter as he dove across rushing water to a dinged up, white Chevy S-10 Blazer, where a man in need of rescue waited on the hood.
Carter made it upstream to the submerged vehicle, clutching the roof and checking inside for more victims. Difficult for him to see in the dark, his only aid came from the flashing police lights that turned the water an alternating red and blue.
Then, the man on the hood jumped.
The deputy’s eyes popped wide, and flood water swept up the victim. In a split second, Carter lunged, grabbing the man in a neck hold while they fell back with the current to safety.
The rescue was just convincing enough to be real. The victim — another deputy — wasn’t actually in danger, and he and Carter were indoors at a swift-water training facility.
“It was very realistic,” Carter told the Houston Chronicle. “It was bringing back flashbacks of the second night of Harvey.”
Ten Harris County deputies participated in the training this week, even though most had experienced similar scenarios in 2017 during Hurricane Harvey. Much of those rescue efforts stemmed from pure instinct, however, prompting the Harris County Sheriff’s Office to devote more resources to water training and equipment so deputies can prepare for the next major flood event with expertise that they never had during the area’s historic storm.
“That was a key element that was missing before,” said Major Rolf Nelson, who oversees the sheriff’s office disaster response. “We were going out there and doing the best we could. I think we can be more effective and a lot safer now.”
The deputies filed in before 7:30 a.m. on a Monday earlier this month at the Fathom Academy training facility in Georgetown, east of Southwestern University in the Texas Hill Country.
Inside was a raised 50,000 gallon pool, 4 feet deep and equipped with eight pumps that burst out water to simulate a flood. Four obstacles – stand-ins for trees or poles – sat in the rectangle along with the white Chevy Blazer. Sprinklers simulated the rain and instructors controlled the climate inside to mimic different types of weather.
The weather was humid.
The lawmen sat for several hours in the morning, studying the basics from instructor Rick Cummins, a lean and upright Austin-area paramedic who has 18 swift water rescues to his name.
They learned hazards they might encounter in the water, signals to ease communication and starters in knot tying. During breaks, the deputies’ conversations often drifted to some of the rescues they completed in Harvey, like a man who floated along while gripping a cooler that bobbed with a baby inside.
Clad in cargo shorts and pants, T-shirts, and old sneakers or water shoes, the 10 deputies plunged in for the most intensive parts of the training. They’d stay in the water for the next day and a half.
Cummins said he considers the training space a laboratory. He switches up practices on the fly, asking the deputies to attempt rescues in ways he hasn’t seen before. Some strategies he teaches because he learned them from his own rescues – like how crossing rushing floodwater is easier on one foot than two.
“A lot of the way I teach is based on my experience in the field and not about what did, but what did not work,” Cummins said of the two-day technician level course, which meets standards set forth by the National Fire Protection Agency.
Already this year, Fathom has trained more than 40 Harris County sheriff’s deputies, although Nelson said he hopes to have a total of 90 certified.
The sheriff’s office wasn’t unequipped to deal with Hurricane Harvey, which struck Houston three years ago this month, the major said. The agency had air boats, shallow draft boats and decommissioned military vehicles for high-water rescues. They used Humvees to respond to routine calls and they had some personal flotation devices and ropes, but no training on how to use them.
A marine unit has been trained in swift-water rescue for years, Nelson said, although patrolmen are also re-tasked to rescue missions during floods.
Deputy Mark Barboza said he and others made do with what they had during Harvey. But afterward, the sheriff’s office sought their opinions on how to better handle future disasters.
“After Harvey, they kind of opened it back up to us,” he said after completing a drill.
Some of the changes include increasing the air boat fleet – the sheriff’s office obtained two more in the last year – and ramping up different types of water training. They’ve purchased over 100 personal floatation devices for rescues, are buying 100 bags of ropes to throw to victims and plan to outfit all rescuers with life jackets.
Ideally, the sheriff’s office will have 10 high-water rescue vehicles operating at a time, Nelson said. Nine trained deputies would work on each truck, accompanied by a jon boat and an air boat.
No one can accurately foresee the devastation wrought by every future hurricane, but the area has experienced enough major floods for sheriff’s office leaders to know that the training, which is expected to cost about $47,000, is worth the investment. Time and time again, Harris County residents find themselves trapped in their homes or cars during a flood, fearful of what’s to come.
“Those people feel oftentimes get the impression that they’re on their own,” Nelson said. “We want to make sure that no one ever feels like they’re in that position.”
Inside Fathom Academy, the deputies repeatedly withstood pumps blasting water straight at their faces, the force pushing them back. They learned how to let the current safely take them downstream, how to do lateral dives into the water and how to cross a stream on foot.
They dove into the pool while attached to ropes, retrieving a victim in time for other team members to pull them back in. They hauled themselves through moving water and over strainers – horizontal barriers like fallen trees – and they trudged through oncoming rapids, gripping each other in a line to rescue “victims” in a car or behind a tree. They flipped boats, they paddled upstream.
Not every deputy succeeded at every challenge, but they were eager and uncomplaining, improving each time.
Sgt. Johnny Reyes, who participated in the training, said the sheriff’s office would have benefited from all of this knowledge during Harvey.
“If we would have had this training, it would have been much simpler,” he said. “This is a good starter.”
The training culminated in five final, multi-rescue scenarios. The victims were unpredictable, and the deputies didn’t have every tool at their disposal — sometimes boats, sometimes ropes, but always quick thinking.
In the last round, Barboza freestyle swam from obstacle to obstacle against the current, making his way to the vehicle. He pulled a victim out, locked his arms under hers and fell back into the water, the current taking them to “shore.” One down.
Deputy Peter Manickos went next, stationing himself at the first barrier and training his eyes on a man climbing out of the car window. He threatened to jump, and Manickos dove for him, grabbing the man’s hand. He pulled him down, and they fell back. Two
The scenario then broke into a rapid-fire series of rescues. Deputy Jonathan Tirk hauled himself on top of the car, tossed a rope to a woman “trapped” behind a pillar and missed. He tossed the rope to another, more accessible victim and connected, lugging her in.
Tirk dragged her to the top of the car, but she was unstable, so Deputy Anthony Robicheaux swam out to help. Three.
Trying again, Tirk threw the rope back to the victim he’d missed. He pulled her up in one cumbersome swoop, and more deputies traversed to the car as a fifth victim grabbed on to a rope. They took the remaining two to shore. Four. Five.
Tirk stood on the car and yelled to see if anyone else was left in the water. After a minute standing under the sprinklers and flashing sirens, the lights flicked on, once again revealing the setting to be the training facility.
It wasn’t an actual storm, but the deputies knew they could be in one soon enough.
Cummins said he considers the training space a laboratory. He switches up practices on the fly, asking the deputies to attempt rescues in ways he hasn’t seen before. Some strategies he teaches because he learned them from his own rescues – like how crossing rushing floodwater is easier on one foot than two.
“A lot of the way I teach is based on my experience in the field and not about what did, but what did not work,” Cummins said of the two-day technician level course, which meets standards set forth by the National Fire Protection Agency.
Already this year, Fathom has trained more than 40 Harris County sheriff’s deputies, although Nelson said he hopes to have a total of 90 certified.
The sheriff’s office wasn’t unequipped to deal with Hurricane Harvey, which struck Houston three years ago this month, the major said. The agency had air boats, shallow draft boats and decommissioned military vehicles for high-water rescues. They used Humvees to respond to routine calls and they had some personal flotation devices and ropes, but no training on how to use them.
A marine unit has been trained in swift-water rescue for years, Nelson said, although patrolmen are also re-tasked to rescue missions during floods.
Deputy Mark Barboza said he and others made do with what they had during Harvey. But afterward, the sheriff’s office sought their opinions on how to better handle future disasters.
“After Harvey, they kind of opened it back up to us,” he said after completing a drill.
Some of the changes include increasing the air boat fleet – the sheriff’s office obtained two more in the last year – and ramping up different types of water training. They’ve purchased over 100 personal floatation devices for rescues, are buying 100 bags of ropes to throw to victims and plan to outfit all rescuers with life jackets.
Ideally, the sheriff’s office will have 10 high-water rescue vehicles operating at a time, Nelson said. Nine trained deputies would work on each truck, accompanied by a jon boat and an air boat.
No one can accurately foresee the devastation wrought by every future hurricane, but the area has experienced enough major floods for sheriff’s office leaders to know that the training, which is expected to cost about $47,000, is worth the investment. Time and time again, Harris County residents find themselves trapped in their homes or cars during a flood, fearful of what’s to come.
“Those people feel oftentimes get the impression that they’re on their own,” Nelson said. “We want to make sure that no one ever feels like they’re in that position.”
Inside Fathom Academy, the deputies repeatedly withstood pumps blasting water straight at their faces, the force pushing them back. They learned how to let the current safely take them downstream, how to do lateral dives into the water and how to cross a stream on foot.
They dove into the pool while attached to ropes, retrieving a victim in time for other team members to pull them back in. They hauled themselves through moving water and over strainers – horizontal barriers like fallen trees – and they trudged through oncoming rapids, gripping each other in a line to rescue “victims” in a car or behind a tree. They flipped boats, they paddled upstream.
Not every deputy succeeded at every challenge, but they were eager and uncomplaining, improving each time.
Sgt. Johnny Reyes, who participated in the training, said the sheriff’s office would have benefited from all of this knowledge during Harvey.
“If we would have had this training, it would have been much simpler,” he said. “This is a good starter.”
The training culminated in five final, multi-rescue scenarios. The victims were unpredictable, and the deputies didn’t have every tool at their disposal — sometimes boats, sometimes ropes, but always quick thinking.
In the last round, Barboza freestyle swam from obstacle to obstacle against the current, making his way to the vehicle. He pulled a victim out, locked his arms under hers and fell back into the water, the current taking them to “shore.” One down.
Deputy Peter Manickos went next, stationing himself at the first barrier and training his eyes on a man climbing out of the car window. He threatened to jump, and Manickos dove for him, grabbing the man’s hand. He pulled him down, and they fell back. Two
The scenario then broke into a rapid-fire series of rescues. Deputy Jonathan Tirk hauled himself on top of the car, tossed a rope to a woman “trapped” behind a pillar and missed. He tossed the rope to another, more accessible victim and connected, lugging her in.
Tirk dragged her to the top of the car, but she was unstable, so Deputy Anthony Robicheaux swam out to help. Three.
Trying again, Tirk threw the rope back to the victim he’d missed. He pulled her up in one cumbersome swoop, and more deputies traversed to the car as a fifth victim grabbed on to a rope. They took the remaining two to shore. Four. Five.
Tirk stood on the car and yelled to see if anyone else was left in the water. After a minute standing under the sprinklers and flashing sirens, the lights flicked on, once again revealing the setting to be the training facility.
It wasn’t an actual storm, but the deputies knew they could be in one soon enough.