MOUNTAIN RESCUE

Risk is ever-present for the team that plucks stranded climbers off Swiss mountains when they get in trouble. yeahbaby joined Air Zermatt for a rare insight into one of the world’s most professional rescue teams

BY MENNO BOERMANS, TCS

The longline, an Air Zermatt innovation, is used to bring stranded or injured
mountaineers up its 220m length to the safety of the distinctive red helicopter
Photography: Menno Boermans

It’s 12 o’clock. The round tables in Air Zermatt’s cafeteria are full of steaming food. This morning the rescue workers haven’t been called out, so they’re chatting, drinking coffee, having lunch and reading the newspaper. The doctor looks over some study material and the pilot concentrates on a newly arrived air-obstacle map. “It’s either a famine or a feast,” says chief pilot Robert Andenmatten. “Yesterday was pretty busy. Late at night we had to start a search for a missing Alpine climber and on Sunday we had nine calls.”

So far, today has been quiet. The free time isn’t unwanted because they can watch a famous ski competition, the Lauberhornrennen, on TV. The Swiss competitors are performing poorly. “They’re a lazy bunch,” the men complain from behind their plates of salad and potatoes.

Without a precise location, Air
Zermatt pilots can spend hours
looking for missing people.But then, as if it had been waiting until after lunchtime, the high-pitched alarm sounds. “Grächen village. A crashed skier, probably several broken ribs,” come the words from the intercom. Swiftly, but without running, the crew prepares for take off. As soon as the rotor is at full speed, the pilot eases the stick back and the bright red helicopter lifts off. With a smooth turn, the Echo Fox heads north. Between the moment the call came and take off, fewer than four minutes passed.

They arrive at the scene of the accident quickly, the skier is located and the helicopter lands. The doctor sticks a needle in the injured skier’s arm and administers a painkilling dose of morphine. It’s not long before the patient falls asleep and it’s confirmed that he has several broken ribs after losing control in a turn. The stretcher is loaded on the side of the helicopter and, with a deafening sound, the machine takes off into the sky again.

Take-off and landing are especially demanding for the pilot. Because of the enormous air displacement caused by the rotor blades, a lot of snow is blown into the air, sometimes reducing visibility to zero.

Rescuing
climbers and
skiers who fal
l into crevasses
in the area’s
glaciers is an
occupational
hazardWhat’s the key to successful missions? “Always stay focused,” says pilot Thierry Perren when we arrive back at the station. He was born and raised in Zermatt, has served 4,800 flight hours and been a pilot for countless rescue missions. When asked if the rescue workers themselves are at risk as well, he says: “We’ll always do whatever we can, but we have our limits. It’s important to know what you’re capable of and to always use reason in everything you do. It’s of no use to the patient if we get into trouble before we can reach them.”

Bruno Jelk, rescue chief and mountain rescue pioneer, echoes this the next day in Saas-Fee (about 10km from Zermatt by helicopter – but 50km by road!), where a group of 22 mountain guides from the region have gathered for a training session to become rettungsspezialists (rescue specialists). These mountain guides accompany the pilot, doctor and assistant (who operates the winch when it’s not possible to land at the scene of an accident) and provide help when specific knowledge of the mountains is required.

“We always make a well-founded risk analysis for every call for help,” stresses Bruno. “After a mission you want to be able to say you have done everything possible, but first take the time to see if it’s really necessary to take off and take the risk. For instance, if a victim has already been missing for eight days, the chances of survival are zero-to-none. In that case, don’t take any risks. It’s not obligatory for a rescue worker to risk his own life. You need to know when you’re allowed to say no.”

That might sound logical, but during the hectic, stressful events of a rescue mission, especially at night, a slight error of judgement could have catastrophic results. Another lesson the mountain guides are taught is to always be “confident, tolerant, competent and friendly, even when somebody has got into trouble due to their own stupidity”. This one must be quite a challenge when you consider the main cause of accidents is carelessness and reckless behaviour by mountaineers.

This is proved two days later when Air Zermatt spends more than two hours searching for a missing man. He’s the chef in a nearby hotel’s restaurant and didn’t show up for work that morning. It’s assumed that, 24 hours earlier (on his day off), he took off for the mountains on his own. The rescue service searches a vast area with two helicopters, but to no avail. With an area that stretches for miles, containing 29 mountains that reach heights of over 4,000m and seemingly never-ending glaciers, the search is difficult to say the least.

For those who are lucky enough to be located, rescue missions sometimes involve using a “longline”, which is attached under the helicopter and can be extended to 220m. The technique was invented by Air Zermatt (which was founded in 1968) and has been used successfully during complex rescue missions across the whole of Switzerland. It is now standard equipment for helicopter rescue teams in other countries as well. And the longline is not the only area in which Switzerland – and especially Air Zermatt – is the front runner. Rescue services in France and Italy are affected by strict regulations which mean that they sometimes have to refuse calls for help. So Air Zermatt, not hindered by such strict rules, is often called in – even though they’re in another country.

In winter they mostly retrieve people from avalanches and crevasses; in summer they rescue distressed mountaineers and hikers. It’s a job that involves witnessing extreme suffering. Mountaineering accidents are often accompanied by severe injuries and can have fatal results. “We’re used to the fact that it sometimes looks dirty,” Dr Frederike Meyer explains. “But the emotional stories behind an accident can touch us too. When friends and family who are present start to tell us about the victim, for instance, that’s when it can get to us. When you don’t know the history of the victim, it’s easier.”

We’re back at the base, having coffee. Frederike is a paediatrician at a local hospital and is herself a fanatic mountaineer. She was trained as an emergency doctor and completed extra training to learn the intricacies of mountain rescues. She’s been a flying doctor for three years now and – like all her colleagues – gets her rewards from the satisfaction a successful rescue mission brings. “In an emergency situation you are usually the only one who can help,” she says.

That people are grateful is apparent from all the postcards in the mess/ cafeteria. There are also several printed emails with appreciative messages. “Sometimes we even get flowers or a cake,” she says, smiling. But reality can be cruel: the message board also has three mourning cards pinned to it. It’s a poignant reminder for snow-sports enthusiasts to always exercise caution and good sense on the slopes – the Air Zermatt team is delightful, courageous and inspirational, but you’re much better off if you never have to meet them!