[Congressional Record Volume 166, Number 39 (Thursday, February 27, 2020)]
[Senate]
[Pages S1165-S1166]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]



                  Tribute to Petty Officer Evan Grills

  Mr. SULLIVAN. Mr. President, as expected, it is time for our 
``Alaskan of the Week'' speech. One of the most fulfilling things I get 
to do as Alaska's U.S. Senator is to come down to the floor of the 
Senate and talk about the people in my State who are making a 
difference in their communities, in the State, and in the country. It 
is a great opportunity in which to do that.
  I always encourage people who are watching and listening to come to 
the great State of Alaska for a visit. You will love it. It will be the 
best trip you ever take. I guarantee it.
  I know the pages enjoy this speech each week because it is a story of 
what real people are doing and, in many cases, of humble heroes. 
Usually, these are happy stories that I get to talk about, but 
sometimes they aren't happy. The story I am going to tell today is, in 
fact, a very, very tragic one, but it contains the kind of heroism and 
selflessness that can spring from a tragedy and literally inspire a 
State or a nation.
  If you are listening, I think you are going to be inspired.
  I have said on the floor before that we are a State--an enormous 
State, a big State in the country, by far--but that we are also a 
family and that, when something happens to members of our families, we 
all grieve. This is particularly true of the town of Kodiak, AK, and of 
the fishing community, both of which suffered a tremendous loss on New 
Year's Eve in the Gulf of Alaska when a crabbing boat, the Scandies 
Rose, sank into the freezing waters, taking with it five fishermen.
  Of the five fishermen--including Seth Rousseau-Gano, Brock Rainey, 
and Arthur Ganacias--Captain Gary Cobban, Jr., and David, his son, were 
both from Kodiak and perished with the crew. Blessedly and remarkably, 
there were two survivors--John Lawler, of Anchorage, and Dean Gribble, 
of Washington State. I mention that almost as a miracle. They were 
saved because of the bravery and the heroism of our Coast Guard 
rescuers, who flew through gale force winds and 30-foot-high swells to 
rescue these survivors. Credit goes to all of the Coast Guard members 
throughout the country but particularly to those in Kodiak and 
specifically to those who were on the flight--the pilot, LT Christopher 
Clark, the copilot, LT Jonathan Ardan, and the mechanic, Jacob Dillon.
  As I said, they are all heroes in this story, but I want to 
specifically highlight the role of the rescue swimmer that evening of 
New Year's Eve--25-year-old PO Evan Grills. Now, Evan is a relative 
newcomer to the great State of Alaska, but his heroism in saving two 
lives more than qualifies him to be our Alaskan of the Week.
  Before I get into the story of this perilous mission, let me tell you 
a little bit about the fishing community in Alaska and why our Coast 
Guard is so very valuable.
  Alaska's seas are the most productive in the world and, by the way, 
the most sustainably managed in the world. More than 60 percent of all 
seafood harvested in the United States of America comes from Alaska's 
waters--6-0. I like to refer to our State as the superpower of seafood, 
which we clearly are, and our fishermen are probably the hardest 
working small business men and women around the world. They work hard. 
They take huge risks. And they produce a product that is second to none 
anywhere on the planet. They face brutal conditions at sea and 
sometimes very tough conditions in the market, but they love their 
work. They love the vital role they play in supplying the best tasting, 
most sustainable wild fish products to America and the globe--
literally, the best.

  The industry used to be incredibly dangerous, and it is still the 
Nation's second-most dangerous profession. I am sure a lot of the 
viewers have seen the show the ``Deadliest Catch,'' but unlike in 
previous decades, the culture has trended more toward safety. Most 
Alaskan fishermen you will meet, though, will have a harrowing story of 
a time at sea, and, of course, they will have harrowing stories of 
rescues.
  Kodiak, AK, where the Scandies Rose is home-ported, is at the center 
of our fishing community. Kodiak is one of the largest fishing ports in 
the entire United States, both in terms of value and in terms of 
quantity. For those who have never been there, they have to go to 
Kodiak, AK. It is a magical, beautiful place. It is an island--one of 
the biggest islands in America. It is about the size of New Jersey--
with beautiful, wonderful people, with tough people. By the way, the 
biggest brown bears on the planet all reside in Kodiak. The heart of 
Kodiak beats fish, and when one of its own perishes at sea, the whole 
community mourns, as it is still doing for Gary, Jr., and David 
Cobban--two hard-working, fine fishermen from a great family.

[[Page S1166]]

  Kodiak is also home to the largest Coast Guard base in the United 
States--the 17th District. By the way, we are making that base bigger, 
with more assets and more aircraft coming to Alaska, because we need 
it. As the chairman of the subcommittee in charge of the Coast Guard, I 
am going to continue to make that happen, for sure. In an average month 
in Alaska--get this--the Coast Guard saves 22 lives, performs 53 
assists, and conducts 13 security boardings and 22 security patrols. 
This is in 1 month. Think about that. That is daily heroism for Alaska 
and for America. They do this all in the largest geographic area of any 
Coast Guard district in the country--nearly 4 million square miles--in 
some of the most challenging weather environments on the planet. That 
is what the men and women of the Coast Guard do in my great State every 
single day.
  Now, being a rescue swimmer in the Coast Guard is an elite 
assignment. Being a rescuer in the Coast Guard station in Alaska is, 
according to our Alaskan of the Week, PO Evan Grills, the ``tip of the 
spear'' of this elite assignment. So let me tell you a little bit about 
Evan.
  Raised in Stuart, FL--the home of our Presiding Officer, Florida--the 
military had always appealed to Evan. His grandparents and uncles were 
marines. As a Marine colonel myself, I say ``Semper Fi'' to them. Some 
of his older friends and mentors went on to the academies, but going 
overseas didn't really appeal to Evan. Serving in the United States and 
saving American citizens at home did, as did the tough training 
required to be a Coast Guard rescue swimmer. ``It's the most elite 
[assignment],'' he said, ``and that's what appealed to me, [so I 
joined].''
  Evan had been in Alaska for less than a year when, on New Year's 
Eve--just 2 months ago--the call came in that a boat that was about 170 
miles southwest of Kodiak was in trouble.
  Having trained mostly in swimming pools, this rescue--the one he was 
being called upon--was going to be his first. Think about that. Your 
first rescue--and I am going to describe conditions that would terrify 
anyone. Nothing prepared him for what he would soon be undertaking.
  Mr. President, let me transport you now to this crabbing boat, the 
Scandies Rose, in the Gulf of Alaska on New Year's Eve. The winds are 
40 knots. The seas are 30 feet. The boast is listing to the starboard 
side. It is 10 degrees out. Everything is freezing. It is nighttime. It 
is very dark.
  It was clear the boat was going down, but the captain, heroically, 
with minutes to spare, was able to get off a mayday call and in doing 
so let the Coast Guard know exactly where to find them and, as a result 
of the captain's heroic actions, save two lives.
  The two survivors, Dean Gribble, Jr., and John Lawler, managed to get 
into their survival suits and a life raft and waited to be rescued in 
these heavy, rough seas. It was a 4-hour wait. It was very, very cold. 
They were covered in ice. The seas were pitching their raft. They were 
hypothermic, it was pitch black, and they had no idea if anyone was 
coming.
  Gribble told a reporter that during the wait, he talked to John.

       We're not going to die today, John. This isn't our time. 
     We're not dying today.

  Even though, in his head, he knew they would die if a rescue didn't 
come soon. Then they saw the lights from the helicopter, with Evan 
Grills aboard, hovering above like an angel coming to save them. But it 
wasn't a given that in those conditions, they could even conduct a 
rescue; that it would be safe for the rescuer to jump in 30-foot swells 
to save them. To even try in these huge waves, in 40-knot winds, in icy 
conditions, was a danger to the crew and the pilots. The flight from 
Kodiak in those conditions had taken 2 hours, and the helicopter was 
short on fuel. They only had minutes left to make the decision whether 
to try to rescue them or turn around and go back to Kodiak. That, 
combined with the extreme winds and seas and freezing temperatures, 
made any attempt at deploying a rescue swimmer very, very risky.
  The pilots conferred with our Alaskan of the week, Evan. They were 
nervous for his safety. They were hovering. They had to hover high 
because they didn't want to be hit by waves.
  ``Are you good with the plan?'' they asked.
  ``I guess so,'' Evan said.
  This was the first rescue of his career. I don't think there was much 
of an option not to do it. A thousand different thoughts went through 
Evan's head when he leapt into the frigid waters in a gale-force storm 
in pitch darkness, risking his life to save others.
  When he reached the first survivor, he said:

       I knew exactly what to do and how to do it. It was almost 
     second nature.

  His training kicked in. His great Coast Guard training kicked in. He 
explained the hoist he had come down with--that came down from the 
helicopter to the first survivor and how it worked to be hoisted up 
into the helicopter. And then to the second survivor, he said, ``We're 
going to go up in this hoist together. Relax. I've got you covered.'' 
Calm. Courage. Heroic. And he did. He had them covered.
  These are the actions of a hero, a true American hero, a true Alaskan 
hero. These are actions that need to be celebrated and known in our 
country. How many Americans or Alaskans, even, read about what this 
young man did to save lives on New Year's Eve when the rest of America 
was celebrating and having fun? Well, now they know.
  But there are five, as I mentioned, who tragically couldn't be saved. 
We know their memories live on. And in Kodiak, the community, the 
family, and the loved ones of the Cobbans are beginning the long, slow 
process of healing.
  As for Evan, our Alaskan of the week, he thinks a lot about those who 
were lost, wishing he could have done more, but he is grateful he was 
able to save two lives. He is also grateful for his training and what 
the Coast Guard does and how what he had trained for as a rescue 
swimmer worked. So he knows and now has the confidence that he can save 
others when they are in trouble.
  ``That's the core of it,'' Evan said. ``Obviously, we don't ever want 
anybody to get in trouble on the seas''--particularly the rough seas of 
Alaska--``but they do. And I'm happy I have the skills and training to 
save them.'' Spoken like a true, humble hero, which this young man is.
  We are also glad you have the skills and training to save others, 
Evan, and we want to thank you.
  Petty Officer Grills. Semper Paratus. Thanks for all you are doing. 
Thanks for your courage, your example, your inspiration, and thank you 
for being our Alaskan of the week.
  I yield the floor.
  The PRESIDING OFFICER. The Senator from Ohio.