Real Survival Stories - Rescuers Stranded: Chopper Down in a Snowstorm

Episode Date: December 11, 2025

A Canadian Air Force search & rescue team is dispatched to save a fisherman in a critical condition. But as the weather closes in over the icy Labrador Sea, Scott McCoy and his companions will find themselves in dire straits. When their helicopter meets the fierce cold of the water, the men will be faced with a series of threats: drowning, hypothermia, death by exhaustion. Will the rescuers be rescued in time?   A Noiser podcast production. Hosted by John Hopkins.   Written by Heléna Lewis | Produced by Ed Baranski | Assistant Producer: Luke Lonergan | Exec produced by Joel Duddell | Sound supervisor: Tom Pink | Sound design by Matt Peaty | Assembly edit by Rob Plummer | Compositions by Oliver Baines, Dorry Macaulay, Tom Pink | Mix & mastering: Ralph Tittley.   For ad-free listening, bonus material and early access to new episodes, join Noiser+. Click the subscription banner at the top of the feed to get started. Or go to noiser.com/subscriptions   If you have an amazing survival story of your own that you’d like to put forward for the show, let us know. Drop us an email at [e-mail] Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

It's just after 8.30 p.m. on November the 12th, 1996. In the far northeast corner of Canada, the wild coastline of Newfoundland and Labrador is in the teeth of a fierce snowstorm. White flakes swirl through the frigid darkness, borne along on icy gusts. Beneath the tempestuous sky, the ocean is a freezing black void. Furious waves throw themselves against the rocky shore, where powdery snowdrifts pile up like sandbags. The wind shrieks. But gradually, a different sound surfaces above the roar of the elements, a pulsing thrum. Moments later, a helicopter emerges from the turbulent gray clouds and sheeting snow, lit up with red and green navigation lights.

lights. The aircraft battles its way through the squall, lurching through the air like an injured bird as it's buffeted by the gale. It jerks and judders, a thin mechanical wine issuing from its trembling fuselage. From his seat behind the pilot, flight engineer Scott McCoy stares anxiously out of the small window. There isn't much of view. You've got anti-collision lights, you have navigation lights, things are flashing, so as they're flashing, they're picking up the snow coming into your face, and it gets thick enough that you can't see through it. The pilot transmits a nervous message through the radio. He's going to try and land somewhere on the shore so they can wait out the storm on solid ground. It begins an uncertain descent through the layers of cloud and snow.

In the back of the cabin, Scott hauls open the cargo door so he can call out visual cues. His harness strains taut as he peers into the darkness. Suddenly, the helicopter lurches, throwing him off balance. That's when he sees them. The chopper's green navigation lights reflecting on the convulsing white-capped waves. Scott stares in horror as the sea rises up towards them, closer than they ever imagined, the rotor wash blasting a crater in the water's surface. He shouts down the radio to the cockpit, telling the pilot to pull up.

But the helicopter is only going one way. They didn't have enough power to maintain the aircraft in level descending flight. We got to a point where we just basically ran. and out of air below us, and the aircraft started dropping out of the sky. Ever wondered what you would do when disaster strikes. If your life depended on your next decision, could you make the right choice? Welcome to real survival stories. These are the astonishing tales of ordinary people thrown into extraordinary situations.

People suddenly forced to fight for their lives. In this episode, we meet Scott McCoy. In 1996, the 37-year-old flight engineer is part of a four-man Canadian Air Force team called out to rescue a fisherman in a critical condition. But as they urgently try to reach the ailing man, the weather closes in, and the crew are forced to battle the elements in a desperate bid to stay airborne. And when they run into trouble over the icy Labrador Sea, C. Scott and his companions will find themselves in dire straits.

All of our major survival gear was still in the chopper. Now the cabin was underwater. Our locator beacon was in the chopper. All your gear is soaking wet full of water and you're freezing. The water's one degree and I'm under water before I can even really take a breath. When their helicopter meets the fierce cold of the water, the men will be faced with a series of three. with a series of threats.

Drowning, hypothermia, death by exhaustion. Stranded, they'll need to draw on all their training, resourcefulness, and teamwork if they're to stay alive. The question is, will the rescuers be rescued in time? We had to figure, okay, what are we going to do? Because nobody knew where we were. Nobody knew that we had crashed into the water. I'm John Hopkins. From the Noiser Podcast Network, this is Real Survival Story.

stories. It's morning. It's morning, Tuesday, November the 12th, 1990s. In the small community of Happy Valley Goose Bay, in central Labrador, its business as usual. Snow falls intermittently from an iron-gray sky, settling on parked cars and crystallizing on the roofs of the wood-clad houses that lie in the residential streets.

The temperature hovers around zero degrees Celsius. Situated on the shores of Lake Melville, the small, secluded settlement is surrounded by breathtaking scenery, sprawling spruce forests overlooked by imposing mountain peaks and interspersed with hundreds of tiny lakes and feeder streams. But despite its scenic isolation, Happy Valley Goose Bay is far from quiet. The residents here have grown used to the rumble and roar of aircraft as they come and go from the Canadian Air Force Base on the outskirts of town. Established in the Second World War, CFB Goose Bay proved central to the development of the surrounding area, and it maintains an important role in the region today, used by

both as a military base and a civilian airport. The snow-covered grass around the airfield is criss-crossed by a series of gleaming black runways, watched over by the neighboring forest. Servicemen and women buzz around sleek military aircraft, stamping their feet to knock the snow from their boots. Inside the base, an alarm sounds. A search and rescue call has just come in.

People scramble to action stations, gathering the information and equipment they need to undertake the mission. Among them is 37-year-old Sergeant Scott McCoy. Within minutes, he's tramping across the tarmac to an awaiting Griffin helicopter, the brisk autumn chill whipping through his short dark hair. I did the job as a flight engineer, which is basically the mechanical expert on board any plane that he's qualified on.

Yeah, we just got a call that there was somebody that was in trouble out at sea. At the time I was on standby with the search and rescue, we were directed to fly up there and take care of business. An Inuit man is in distress on board a fishing trawler near Resolution Island, a large uninhabited stretch of land in the Arctic archipelago. The man has collapsed with a bleeding ulcer

and urgently needs to be evacuated. From Goose Bay, it's a journey of over 450 miles and will require a number of stops on the way to refuel the helicopter. If all goes to plan, the griffin will reach the trawler in about nine hours. The four-man crew climb inside the chopper, slide on their helmets, and secure their safety harnesses. Other controls are 27-year-old pilot Karim and 25-year-old co-pilot Wade. Behind them on the right is Scott. To his left is 35-year-old Andre, a skilled search-and-rescue technician,

known as a Saar tech. The crew prepare for takeoff. For Scott, these pre-flight routines and rituals are second nature. He's been in the Air Force since he was 19, virtually half his life. But that wasn't always his plan. My father, he was Army at one time and had retired prior to me being born. Dad was a bit of a hard nut to get by sometimes. He was very military in his way.

and so me joining the Armed Forces was not on my top 10 list. As a child and teenager, Scott was more interested in football than flying. I was playing at an elevated level, and I went over to England when I was 13. And I actually met up with all the Manchester United players at the time, you know, Georgie Best, Bobby Charlton, you name it, Alex Stepney, Willie Morgan, all these players that were playing at the time for Manu. and had an interview with the Manchester Evening News and I was front page on the sports section there

as an up-and-comer at the time. And I continued to play high-level soccer here in Canada until such time that I joined the armed forces. Scott maintained a love for soccer, but it wasn't where his professional path ultimately lay. Rather, unexpectedly, he did end up following in his father's military footsteps. In 1978, at the age of 19, slightly adrift and unsure of his direction,

a chance encounter shifted everything. When I graduated from high school, I wanted a break from schooling. So I just really didn't know what I wanted to do. I was walking downtown in my city at the time and saw a recruitment sign, and I stopped in to talk about it. And the recruiting sergeant that was in there was somebody I grew up with years earlier. We had a little chat and he told me all about it and so he said all I had to do was go through an aptitude test

and see where I might fit in. And so I said, well, yeah, I can do that, you know, just for the heck of it. Things moved quickly from there. Within weeks, Scott was enrolled in the Air Force and undergoing basic training, a first step that would shape the rest of his life. The basic training was run around and take orders and see how well you did it. If you could follow orders and then do what you have. had to do then it was very easy to get through. But when I finally got to my trade training,

that's when I really started to enjoy it, getting into the aspects of the theory of flight and just aircraft in general. Scott began his career as an airframe technician. Then he reclassified to flight engineer. For a time, he was posted to CFB Gagetown in New Brunswick, one of the largest military bases in Canada. It wasn't until I got there that I got on my first. flying course and went through the operational processes to learn that aspect of the job. So now I had the skills to look after maintenance-wise, and when I finished the course, I had the skills to be able to advance them in the operational means. Over the past two decades, Scott has racked up many hours of flight time and all sorts

of challenging conditions. He has plenty of experience under his belt, and today he's going to need it. You and Santa? Best rappers out there. But Reese's wants to know, what about the best unwrapping moment? Reese's peanut butter cups put your unwrapping skills to the test. And with three cups of creamy peanut butter and smooth chocolate per pack, you get your practice in. Experiencing that sweet and salty satisfaction again and again and again.

Santa gets cookies. You get Reesis. Nothing else is Reesis. Shortly before 11 a.m., the Griffin helicopter takes off into the dull gray sky above Goose Bay. But only ten minutes into their nine-hour journey, a mechanical fault forces the crew to return to base for repairs. After the squadrons technician fixes the problem, Scott and his three companions are able to head back out just before one person. This time everything runs smoothly. Their first port of call is the tiny town of Nain, 230 miles away. Nestled on the rugged coastline, it's the northern most permanent settlement of the province, and is accessible only by sea or air.

Beyond it lies the sweeping breadth of the Torngat Mountains, more than 18,000 square miles of towering peaks and glacier-carved fiords, roamed by caribou, wolves, and polar bears. Whilst refueling in Nain, Scott and the others take the opportunity to grab something to eat. It may be a while before they have another chance to consume anything substantial. By the time they set off again, darkness is falling, the world sinking into shadows. The griffens crew don night vision goggles, which tint the sea and sky in a strange luminous green. But soon the choppers crew are battling more than just the darkness.

We were heading straight north along the coast. The weather started coming in a little bit, so we did have to climb to get over it because the mountains up there are pretty high and rugged, 2,000 to 3,000 feet. As the griffon climbs and approaches the northern tip of the Labrador Peninsula, where the land falls away into the icy swell of the sea, the weather worsens. Soon, ghostly white flurries are switching around the aircraft. We noticed that the snow was starting to pick up, so the aircraft commander made the decision at that point to land

because it didn't look like we were going to have great visibility, so we landed, and we actually shut the aircraft down, and we put all the plugs and covers and everything on it, because we thought we were going to be there probably for the night, or at least until the weather. and cleared. The pilots radio their backup aircraft, a C-130 Hercules plane from Nova Scotia, to explain the situation.

While time is limited to get to the ailing fishermen, they can't risk traveling any further when the weather is like this. The crew hunkered down to wait out the storm as snow and wind batter the grounded Griffin. To everybody's surprise, they don't have to wait long. The weather cleared probably in about an hour. So the aircraft commander made the decision because we were going to have to refuel again at Killinge Island. So he says, well, we might as well take off and get ourselves there

and see how things look. At around 8.30 p.m., the pilots fire up the propellers once more. The griffin jodders into life and rises into a surprisingly clear star-studded sky. But, in their haste to set off, neither the pilot nor co-pilot informs the backup plane that they're flying again. As far as everyone else knows, the griffens crew are still waiting out the storm on solid ground. As they begin the short journey to Killinick Island, just off the northern tip of Labrador, Scott stares out at the wild, wind-swept terrain below them, searching for potential landing spots, just in case the weather suddenly deteriorates again. It's best to be prepared.

Rugged expanse is sparse and uninhabited, broken only by the numerous inlets and lakes that pepper the region. But then Scott spies something else, a small shack peeking out between the craggy snow-covered rocks. Such structures aren't uncommon so deep in the wilderness. They tend to be used by hunters and fishermen seeking shelter from the elements or a bed for the night. When we flew over, I kind of just made a joke, eh, you know, making things light. I said, wouldn't that be funny if we had to use that at some point?

Not thinking that that would ever come to be. Even while doing serious work, the team tried to keep things jovial. The atmosphere is relatively light. But then, within just minutes of taking off again, it all changes. Without warning, the green. Griffin suddenly finds itself in the heart of a fierce snow shower. Ferocious winds buffered the aircraft, and thick white flakes pelt its windshield, dazzling the crew as they reflect off the chopper's flashing lights.

The flurry has come out of nowhere. There's no telling how long it might last, or how much worse it could get. The biggest thing with it is it gets thick enough that you can't see through it. So you lose your visual acuities. When you're down low, you might not be able to see the ground. Soon, the griffon is enveloped in a pale, swirling mass of cloud and snow. The helicopter gropes its way through the whiteout. Low on fuel, it's unlikely they'll be able to climb above the stormfront.

Besides, going too high in this weather is dangerous. The thing is about going up in snow showers or any kind of snow, you can get into what's called an icing situation. So now the aircraft can get covered with ice, the blades can get covered with ice, because we didn't have any what's called anti-icing capabilities or de-icing because it's unpressurized as the helicopter, and it doesn't fly above 10,000 feet,

so you generally wouldn't need that. The only option is to go down, to try to get below the cloud line. The helicopter descends jerkily through the gale, pummeled by wind and snow, It eventually emerges out of the cloud layer. But visibility isn't much improved. We got back into the showers even at the low level.

So that's when the pilot decided he wanted to land. Caught between the squalling sky above and the roiling black sea below, the griffons crew have limited options. Then the pilot points to a thin strip of land on the other side of the inlet that they're flying over. for a few seconds it's just visible between the snow flurries and then it disappears into the blizzard with little other choice the pilot makes a beeline towards the vanishing coastline

if you can just make it across the water and land the chopper they can wait out the storm in safety before continuing their journey in the back Scott holds open the cargo door so we can call out visual cues the roar of the snowstorm thunders into the cabin the bitter wind stinging the men's skin though there are only a few hundred meters from the shore and safety a single miscalculation could end in catastrophe

the pilots basically they were going off of visual cues but ended up not having very good visual cues they didn't have enough power to maintain the aircraft in level descending flight to get to the point where they wanted to go. And what happened was we got to a point where we just ran out of basically air below us and the aircraft started dropping out of the sky. Alarm fills the cabin as the griffin plummetes through the air, unable to pull up. On board, stomachs lurch and blood rushes to heads.

If you're on an elevator, as soon as it drops to go down some level, and you're not ready for it, it just catches you. It just gets a hold of you and you notice it in a real hurry. And that's what happened. I felt to drop, and then as we were descending, I noticed that the nav light on my side, which was colored green, you could see it on the water, and you should never see it on the water. You know what I'm saying?

Scott shouts into his radio, urging the pilots to pull out before it's too late. The dread in the air is purged. For a few seconds, the helicopter manages to hover above the sea, mere feet from the seething mass of the foam-flecked waves. It looks as if disaster might have been averted. Then the griffin's tail smacks down against the water. Its massive rotor blades flex and flail. Nobody has a chance to react. The griffin starts spinning uncontrollably before pitching over to the left.

Scott is thrown violently across the cabin. across the cabin as the aircraft rolls. Tons of frigid water cascade into the chopper, engulfing the four men in a matter of seconds. At that point, I'm underwater, and I'm trying to get away from the aircraft. To do that, I have to be able to release my harness. So I'm reaching for that, and I can't get a hold of it

because now I'm suspended in the water. My motion stopped, and so at that point, at that point, I thought it was going to die. When you're flying Emirates business class, sipping your favorite cocktail at our onboard lounge, you'll see that your vacation isn't really over until your flight is over. Fly Emirates, fly better. Get to know yourself and your roots better with Ancestry DNA. Want to know where your family comes from in northern France?

Maybe you'd like to see how your genes influence certain traits like diet, fitness, and allergies. There's so much of you and your heritage to discover. Visit ancestry.ca and get started with an Ancestry DNA kit today. It's late evening, November the 12th, 1996. Off the coast of Northeast Canada, the glacial black water, of the Labrador Sea are churned by a vicious gale. Twisting, twirling eddies of snow fill the air as the wind howls its sinister song. There, amidst the turbulent waves, something gleams.

Bobbing in the dark water, several hundred meters from the rocky shore, is a half-submerged helicopter. The aircraft's nose is plunged beneath the sea's surface. Its tail juts, gracelessly towards the storm royal sky. The cabin is flooded with freezing seawater. Inside, four men are trapped, struggling desperately to undo their safety harnesses before they drown in this icy darkness. In the back of the cabin,

Sergeant Scott McCoy tries to implement his military training. It was called Ruet, rotary wing underwater escape training. And whenever you did that training, It was in a pool, the water was warm, it was light out, everything controlled. You even had divers down there just in case you panicked. So now you're in a real life situation. The water's one degree and I'm underwater before I can even really take a breath.

Submerged and disorientated, Scott grapples to free himself in the murky chamber. Fumbling with shaking, freezing fingers, he gropes for the harness clip. His movement's increasingly frantic. Seconds tick by. He's running out of oxygen. Lungs were burning. They were on fire. They were burning, so hard.

He yearns to take a breath. But if he inhales, he'll flood his airwaves with water, and it'll be over. And then there is a huge stroke of luck. And it was right then that my head. actually popped into an air pocket. And the chopper now was sitting nose down. And because we were light on fuel, the tail was able to sit into the air

as the nose was sitting down in the water and it created an air pocket in the back of the cabin of the helicopter. And my head somehow found that air pocket. Scott inhales deeply inside the tiny gap of air, filling his body with oxygen. But it's only for a moment before he'd plunges back underwater.

This time he composes himself, finds the clip of his harness, and releases himself. He scrambles under water, desperately trying to escape the sinking helicopter, flails in the gloom, searching for an exit. Ahead, there's a hole in the cabin where a window has been blown out by the water pressure. Scott seizes his chance and swims through it.

Me thinking that the helicopter's probably sinking, I wanted to get out of it as fast as I could. And to my astonishment, when I got out of it, I broke the surface of the water within maybe a second or two. The chopper is now fully upside down in the water. Scott's hands find the cold metal of the aircraft's upturned belly, and he holds himself onto it. He scans the water for the others. It doesn't take long before he spots the co-pilot, Wade, and Sartek, Andre. So I helped them up onto the chopper, and at that point we're looking around to see where the aircraft commander is. We can't find him.

Concern builds as the three men scan the frigid sea for the pilot Karim. They call his name, but there's no sign of him. Suddenly, his head appears in the water at Scott's feet. His lips blew with cold. Dazed and confused after the crash, he'd begun swimming towards the shore, but turned back when he heard his companion's voices. No sooner has Scott seen him, then the pilot starts sinking back below the surface, his limbs half paralyzed by the temperature of the water.

I think at that point he was just so cold and so lethargic, he'd just run out of gas as far as being able to get onto the chopper. So I reached down about three feet into the water and grabbed a hole of his arm and was able to pull him up. For a few moments, everything stops. They crowd together on the upturned helicopter, their heavy breaths mingling with a frosty air. Though the immediate danger of drowning has passed,

The crew's problems have only just begun. The bleak sub-arctic wind howls around them, and their soaked clothing clings to their skin. The pilot, he took his helmet off, and I said, man, put your helmet back on, because the heat's going to escape from your body through your head. And so I said, get your helmet back on, and we'll go from there, figure out what we're going to do.

The shore is about 300 yards away, by Scott's estimate. But there's next to no chance they'll survive the same. swim in the freezing water. All that protects the four men from the deathly embrace of the Labrador Sea is the flooded, upturned fuselage of their helicopter, and the griffin is slowly sinking. All of our major survival gear was still in the chopper. Now the cabin was underwater, our locator beacon was in the chopper. Ordinarily, the locator beacon would automatically activate when sensing the impact of

crash. However, due to the unusual, gradual nature of their accident, this transmitter remains off. Because we settled into the water so lightly, it didn't activate it. And so we would have had to have taken the electronic transmitter out of the aircraft and switched on manually. Well, after almost drowning, none of us were going back in the chopper. We just didn't have it in us to go back in and get it. With a locator beacon out of action, the crew's only hope is that their colleagues will realize something is wrong when they don't show up at their intended destination. But since their colleagues currently believe they're still grounded and waiting out the storm,

it could be hours before anyone notices that something has gone awry. Until then, Scott and the rest of the Griffin's crew will have to do what they can to survive. One small factor is currently in their favor. The tide is going in. They just have to hope their mangled craft can stay afloat long enough for them to reach the shore. For the next half hour, the four men huddle, soaked and shivering, on the underside of the helicopter. Inch, by painful inch, they are slowly carried closer towards land by the tide. just a few meters from the craggy shoreline

the rotor blades grind against these submerged rocks and the griffin comes to a stop near a rugged cliff they will have to swim the remaining distance we got back into the water and we climbed the rocky outcrop there it was about 10 feet but when all your gear is soaking wet full of water and you're freezing it wasn't as easy as one might think to get out. But we all managed to get out and we got on to land and now we had to figure

okay, what are we going to do because nobody knew where we were. One thing quickly becomes apparent. If they don't start moving, they'll freeze to death. The crew agreed to search for the cabin Scott saw from their helicopter just minutes before they crashed. If they can gain shelter from the elements, they might survive long enough for help to arrive. But it's not going to be easy. They're already bordering on hypothermia and they have virtually no survival kit. Scott's neck and back throb painfully from the crash. Still, they have no choice but to start walking. The dark sky yawns above them as they begin their trudge across the rocky ground, the cold air catching in their lungs. Their footsteps in the

snow are the only indication of life in this barren wilderness. The terrain is jagged and uneven, their movements impeded by their sodden clothing, which is quickly turning icy in the biting wind. A single false step in the dark could see any one of them plunging down a steep cliff. It was a struggle because we were having to cross parts of the Torn Gat mountains, which are around 2,000 feet high. So we're doing a lot of climbing and whatnot and a lot of falling down. The Griffin's crew continued their snowy slog through the dark, but it's hardgoing.

As time drags on, their weariness increases, making them more prone to accidents. There was a time when I was totally exhausted, dehydrated, and I went to climb up a ridge and tripped and actually slid down that ridge again. And the fact that we were in a mountain system that at any second you could slip and fall and drop a thousand feet, it was very perilous. So you had to be very careful. And I was just very fortunate that I just slid virtually feet instead of a long way because it wouldn't have been a happy ending, I'm sure. Pretty soon it becomes clear that the pilot, who spent the most time in the water after the crash, is struggling. He was in a different world at that point

because he wasn't wearing much in the way of winter clothing He was wearing all summer clothing So he was very hypothermic So he's going through that aspect of it as well But he's not the only one who's suffering Somewhere along the way during the crash and the trek The co-pilot lost his boot and sock Leaving his right foot completely exposed

To the jagged rocks and the cold It doesn't take long before it's battered and swollen, frozen solid by sub-arctic conditions. He begins to fall behind. And I can remember looking at him and looking at his leg and all the way up to the knee was kind of like an opaque color. It was like regular white wax. And so I just said, we got to keep moving.

The Sartek, he decided to go in the front and I said, well, I'll go in the tail end to make sure that we keep the pilots in between us and we don't lose anybody. The four shivering men shuffle forward in single-file, their bodies hunched against the icy sting of the wind. The black silhouettes of mountain ridges jut up all around them, watching their slow progress in impassive silence. After trudging across the treacherous terrain for several hours, the group encounters a frozen body of water. There's no way around it.

Slowly, hearts rattling, the men step out onto the glassy surface of the lake. Terrifying creaks and cracks emanate from the ice as they inch their way across, every step threatening to plunge them into the brutal cold of the water just below their feet. I remember walking across that thinking, oh my God, I do not want to be walking across this because we just got out of the water and I don't want to go through the ice and possibly not make it up again. Mercifully the ice holds

and the men make it to the other side of the lake. As the night draws on, the temperature continues to drop and every step becomes an effort. The crew don't know for sure where the cabin is and their hopes of finding it before morning dwindle. Throughout the night, We were really struggling to get our bearings because we were getting hypothermic.

We were getting very dehydrated. And so it's funny, hey, you start seeing things that aren't really there. We start hallucinating. Their senses warped. It's time to call it quits for the night. It's now around 3 a.m. And they've been walking for six hours. Beneath a large overhanging rock, Scott and Sartec Andre dig a trench in the snow.

It's the best shelter they can manage at this moment. Nobody mentions its ominous resemblance to a grave. We laid the pilots as far in as we could, and then we laid on the outside of them, so that we would try and keep them as free from the elements as we could, and we've stayed there for about three to four hours. And I can remember throughout that period of time getting up a number of times and just doing, you know,

the old jumping jacks and everything just to try and get the blood flowing and not freeze up completely. It's a long, bitterly cold night, and the men hardly dare sleep for fear of not waking up again. Occasionally they call out one another's names or move around to try and fend off the bone-biting chill. Aside from that, there is little sound in the empty white landscape. With Instacart, you get groceries that over-deliver, and with Instacart's in-store prices at select stores, you can do more this winter without paying more. So double down on your shortbread production without upping the price.

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Plus, Coca-Cola is back with Canada's kindest community, celebrating acts of kindness nationwide with a chance at 100,000 donation for the winning community and a 2026 holiday caravan stop. Learn more at Canada's Wonderland.com. With agonizing slowness, the pale light of dawn eventually starts to seep into the sky. It's clear the pilots aren't in any condition to travel far, so at around 7 a.m., Scott and Andres stiffly get to their feet and agree to continue searching for the cabin together, promising the other two men they'll return soon. I said to the Sarjack, we've got to get moving.

We've got to get looking for that shack because it was light out. He said, yeah, okay, so he slid down the side of the hill where we were at, and he couldn't have been gone like three to five minutes, and he yelled up, he says, I found it. It's right here. Turns out they made camp last night within spitting distance of the cabin. Andrea and Scott returned to their two companions with the good news. But the co-pilot's foot is so badly frozen that he can barely walk.

They'll have to slide him down the side of the hill. finally panting and shivering the four men enter the shack it's little bigger than a tool shed it was so dilapidated it was worn down two of the walls were missing but all the wood that had been associated with it was all lying around right next to it it was all pretty rotten but we were able to hatch up this shack it just had a bed frame but nothing in it and it didn't have a fireplace at all in it.

It just had a hole in the ceiling where the pipe used to go through. The crew find a piece of corrugated steel and set to work lighting a fire on it using the rotten wood and flint. Eventually flames crackle into life. With no fireplace or chimney, the room quickly fills with smoke, but at least it offers some modicum of warmth. plus it's now been long enough that the team's absence will be suspicious

their colleagues will surely set off looking for them soon we started just placing things randomly in spots that we could make it more advantageous for somebody to see us if they flew over so I took the flares and put them off to the side in the spot I knew where they were I took my survival vest and I put it on the top of a rock so that they could see it because the actual flotation device itself was yellow. The sea dye marker was like a fluorescent orange,

so I just wiped it all on the side of this rock face with snow and painted that orange. With these various tools, they make the area around the shack as bright and noticeable as possible. And then it's a waiting game. All they can do is drink melted snow, huddled by the meagre fire

and do their best to keep the pilot and co-pilot comfortable. We had to put the co-pilot in the corner of the hut so that we wouldn't, in effect, start melting his leg because when you've got a limb that's frozen, they say the best thing to do is to keep it that way until you get to medical authorities and they will defrost it in a manner that they feel fit that's going to possibly help save the limb.

Meanwhile, the hyperphermic pilot is lying as close as possible to the fire, the need for warmth, trumping the harshness of the smoke. While Scott and Andre are able to go outside for fresh air whenever the smoke becomes too intense, the two pilots can only lie there, slipping in and out of consciousness. The hours crawled by. And then at around 3 p.m. they hear something else, a faint rumble in the air. It's the unmistakable sound of a Hercules airplane. Scott grabs the flares and races outside into the snow. The Herc flew over us, but by the time we were able to get the day-night flare activated, they were by us, and so they didn't see it. The Hercules fades into the distance, taking their chance of rescue with it.

Opportunity missed. The Griffin's crew remained stranded, and if they're not spotted soon, then some of them will be beyond help. Scott watches as the Hercules vanishes from sight, leaving the leaden sky empty. The rugged land around him is stark and devoid of life. But at least the plane's presence confirms the crew's disappearance has been noted. I knew how the search and rescue world operated. They wouldn't just stop there. They would do grid searches and what have you.

And they would be back later on at some point. Until then, the crew just have to cling on. The four men dozed by the fire, exhausted and hungry. Their ordeal has been ongoing now for more than 24 hours. now for more than 24 hours. Thick smoke fills the hut, stinging their eyes and making it difficult to breathe. The pain in Scott's neck throbs. Slowly night falls once more, cloaking the world in darkness.

And then, sometime in the early hours of the morning, a low, resounding roar shakes the flimsy walls of the shack. Scott once again leaps to his feet. and grabs the remaining flares and hurtles out into the night. The burning flares saw into the air, scoring an incandescent arc through the sky. He watches as they fizzle out and waits for a signal from the plane. Anything to indicate they've been seen.

It had a white light that was associated with the camera that's underneath the belly of it, and they flashed the camera light at us. So that basically told me that, okay, they've seen us. now our rescue is going to start because they know where we are. At about 6 a.m., Scott and his companions hear the distinct heavy thump of a helicopter. They use burning wood to indicate their location, and the chopper lands less than 25 meters from their crumbling shack. When their rescuers approach, André steps forward. He says to the guys, hey guys, we'll give you a hand here.

And Sartek looked at him and said, listen, man, we've got things here from now. You guys just go get in the aircraft and we'll help out the pilots. And you guys just get yourself sorted. You don't have to do anything else here. Nearly 36 hours after their helicopter crashed, the Griffin's crew are finally airlifted to a medical center in Kudjouac, northern Quebec, where they are treated for hypothermia and severe dehydration. Initially, there's concern that Scott may have a break in his neck.

But thankfully, it turns out to be bad strain affecting his muscles and nerves. The Sartek and I were flown back to Goose Bay, and the two pilots were flown to Montreal on a different aircraft because they were in much more serious condition than we were. The Sartek that was with me, he lost portions of some toes due to frostbite. The co-pilot, he lost four toes off his one foot, that one that was frozen. and the aircraft commander, he was in hospital for better part of 10 days because of lung damage. While slow recoveries lie ahead, the crew have survived.

But what of the stricken fishermen, the man they were sent to rescue in the first place? Scott learns that shortly after they crashed into the sea, their backup aircraft reached the boat off Resolution Island. Thanks to daring parachute jumps and rapid medical care, the team were able to save the fisherman's life. After a few days in hospital, Scott is released, following a brief spell in the media spotlight, things settle down and normal life resumes. It doesn't take long before he returns to his job, though he never quite loses his weariness of flying over water at night. In 2003, almost seven years to the day after the crash took place, Scott's old neck injury flares up and forces him to retire from the Air Force after 25 years of service. Looking back, he says he puts his survival down to his military training, his ability

to stay calm under pressure and his innate will to live. But it wasn't just his own skills which enabled him to defy the odds. I don't think I had any spiritual faith or anything, but I did have faith in the process. And I knew, having been in the search and rescue world, just a short time, that there was a process that was in place, and they would exhaust all possibilities. The fact that we were a search and rescue crew gown was like family looking for family, you know. So I just knew inside that it would all work out in the end, and it did. So we were very fortunate.

it. These days, Scott says he's still affected physically and emotionally by the crash. His injuries continue to hamper him, and he's experienced PTSD over the years. But despite that, he remains cheerful and optimistic. He finds pleasure in the small joys life has to offer, aware of how close he came to losing them for good. Reflecting back on it, I'm just happy to be here, happy to have family around me, and just be able to live life further. Life is great. Life is good, so it could be so different if it had had gone differently. I mean, I've got a lot of things around me now that are just awesome to have. Just having family and friends around you helps you be able to get through these things.

And in the end, once it's all said and done, what have we got? We've got family and friends, eh? You really have, there's nothing else out there. So if you've got a good support group like that, then that just makes it all worthwhile. I said, I think I'm going to try and not sweat the small stuff anymore because it doesn't get much bigger than this. And we made it through it. Harder said than done sometimes, but that's what I said and that's what I try to do. Because not everybody is fortunate enough to go through the sort of thing we went through

and live to tell about it. Next time we meet Jamie Nicol. In late 2010, the 31-year-old is part of a construction crew building a mountain bike trail through a rugged Alpine Valley in Patagonia, Chile. With about a month to go until the contract ends, Jamie is looking forward to returning home to New Zealand, where his family and girlfriend are waiting for him. But a freak accident threatens his hope of ever seeing his loved again. While drilling into a wall of rock using a jackhammer, a sudden malfunction in the machine results in a violent eruption of flames. Jamie finds himself directly in the line of fire.

Swinging from a harness above a ravine burning alive, his survival chances appear as remote as the isolated valley he is working in. That's next time on real survival stories. Listen right now without adverts by joining Noyser Plus. Click the subscription banner or head to noisor.com forward slash subscriptions. This episode is brought to you by Square. You're not just running a restaurant, you're building something big. And Square's there for all of it. Giving your customers more ways to order,

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