The Coast Guard's Air Force

Coast Guard Lt. Todd Fisher is flying patrol in his orange Aerospatiale HH-65 Dolphin out over the Florida Straits when he looks down and spots what he calls "a target of interest." A fishing boat. Out fishing. At least a fishing boat that is supposed to look like it is out fishing. After all, it isn't a "go-fast" boat, which smugglers prefer to use when they import illegal drugs into Florida. Still, "it looks suspicious to us," he says. "It doesn't look to me like it's out fishing. So we find him, we mark him, and we send surface vessels over." Fisher is right. Men from a Coast Guard cutter board the vessel, search it, and find drugs. Namely cocaine. A lot of cocaine.

When you think of the Coast Guard in Florida you probably envision TV footage of them returning those poor Cubans who didn't make it to the beaches (like the ingenious ones who converted an old truck into a boat, welding its drive shaft to a propeller), or flying search and rescue for boaters in over their heads — in sea water. The officers call it PIW, for personnel in water. For the Cubans a cutter plucks them out of the water and takes them back to an uncertain fate in Cuba; for the accidental swimmer the Guard flies over in an HU-25 — the military equivalent of a Falcon 20 business jet — and tosses out a package containing whatever the boater might need: gasoline, say, or a life raft with provisions. Then if needed the Falcon crew calls in the Dolphins or the Mako "Sharks" (Coast Guard pilots' nickname for the Agusta A109E). And they even airdrop food and supplies to migrants they find stranded on a deserted island.

But there are also law enforcement duties. "The Coast Guard, we're like cops," Fisher says. "We can enforce the laws on the high seas." Breaking the law is not new in Florida (or anywhere, for that matter). Smuggling itself dates back to the origin of boats and the beginning of government there. In the last century the native Conchs (so called after their favorite mollusk foodstuff) ran rum to the men building the Flagler Overseas Railway between 1906 and 1912, ran rum during Prohibition, and afterward ran rum wherever they could sell it. Nowadays you can quietly pay the right boat captain $8,000 and he'll pluck up and deliver an immigrant from Cuba to the land of the free.

But there's more profit to be made than just a few thousand dollars. Drug runners make millions smuggling marijuana and cocaine into the United States. The cocaine comes out of South America, namely Colombia or Peru. From there it travels overland to Venezuela, where it goes by boat into Puerto Rico, Haiti, or the Dominican Republic. The smugglers store it in stash houses and then ship it a couple of tons at a time into Islamorada in the Florida Keys or into Fort Lauderdale.

It used to be that smugglers loaded up airplanes and flew direct to Florida, landing in out-of-the-way spots such as deserted roads or grass airstrips, or even air-dumping the cargo to accomplices waiting on the ground. These days no smuggler in his right mind tries to fly it over in airplanes: The U.S. air interdiction effort worked so well it wiped out smuggling from the skies. Now smugglers cram the drugs in the holds of those go-fast boats that rocket over the waves at speeds above 90 knots, easily blasting past the 30-knot top speed of the typical Coast Guard cutter. According to the Office of National Drug Control Policy, since 1995 go-fast activity has multiplied 10 times. Each year those speedboats make more than 400 runs and account for 70 percent of maritime drug flow into America and 85 percent of the cocaine. And each of the speedboats can carry up to two tons of the stuff more than 1,300 miles.

But even the fastest go-fast boat can't outrun a 165-knot Dolphin.

Dolphin patrols

The Coast Guard purchased 96 of these brothers to the Aerospatiale Dauphin (which means dolphin in French) to replace its aged Sikorsky HH-52As — well before the recent anti-French wave swept the United States. Still, as part of the deal, the Coast Guard wanted its Dolphins Americanized. Built here in the United States by Aerospatiale Helicopter Corporation in Grand Prairie, Texas, the composite machine (the better to avoid corrosion) has a panel full of electronics from Rockwell Collins Avionics. And its pair of Lycoming LTS-101 750B-2 turboshafts (each generating 742 shaft horsepower) replace the two 733-shp Turbomeca Arriel 1C2 turbine engines. Those Lycomings had teething problems early on, but they still power the Dolphins. Measuring 38 feet long, each two-pilot machine has a payload of 2,000 pounds. Pilots like it because it's easy to fly; for instance, Dolphins can hover automatically at an altitude of 50 feet above the ocean in all weather.

Flying through history

The Coast Guard's aviation history in Florida goes back quite a while. In 1932 the Coast Guard commissioned Air Station Miami. Back then the air unit flew amphibians on routine patrol and search and rescue (SAR), some aviation-related — like rescuing downed military fliers — and some not. The Coast Guard units also flew operations against smugglers. Postwar, things really got hopping. Flying SARs alone, the Coast Guard's airtime shot up 214 percent. Then came Fidel Castro. By 1962 a light sprinkle of refugees turned into torrential rain. They were floating over here in everything imaginable: inner tubes, logs, life rafts, you name it. Everything except a converted truck — yet. So the Coast Guard rescued them. For the time being.

The Coast Guard's new mission, for now anyway, is working for the Department of Homeland Security. But drugs still rate high on their list.

The Coast Guard contingent on Florida's southeast coast comes equipped with a few HH-65s and a couple of Falcons. The contingent on the other side of the peninsula, in Tampa Bay, has a couple of UH-60 Black Hawks. "We're spread thin," Fisher says. So while the highest priority is national security, and their daily schedule consists of patrol flights. They also add on whatever missions that pop up. When they fly a training mission they'll throw on a patrol at the end just to get the most out of it.

Smugglers — bringing in either drugs or immigrants — usually work under the cover of darkness, so the HU-25 comes equipped with FLIR (forward-looking infrared). FLIR comes in handy when there's a target of interest offshore somewhere "based on certain intelligence, but we can't tell you what that is," says Coast Guard Lt. (JG) Rob Tucker. The FLIR can also videotape the bad guys' actions, to be used against them in court. Each HU-25 carries a crew of five: a pilot, a copilot, a drop-master, and two observers. Once the Falcon has the target on radar, the crew tries to pick it up visually. "It can be as blatant as a go-fast vessel," adds Tucker. When they have the speedboat in sight, they call in the Dolphins, which try to convince the smugglers to change their evil ways. Usually, though, there's a chase — followed by an arrest.

Enforcement actions

Now the Coast Guard is breaking in a new helicopter, the Boeing MD-900, re-designated the MH-90 Enforcer. The three-person Enforcer's a NOTAR machine — no tailrotor — that the Coast Guard chose because it takes up less room, which means it can operate from the tiny flight decks typical of Coast Guard cutters. But NOTAR also makes it quieter, so it's a boon to surveillance operations. Its pair of Pratt & Whitney Canada PW206E engines propel it to a top speed of 160 knots, and give it a range of 315 nautical miles.

Although the official pronouncement is to use it for non-lethal force, the Enforcer comes armed and extremely dangerous: It has an M-240 machine gun (an updated version of the Vietnam-era M-60), capable of firing 7.62 millimeter rounds, coupled to a laser-sighted .50-caliber sniper rifle.

Wanting to try it on before they bought it, the Coast Guard leased two Enforcers and got a chance to see their stuff. In August 1999 an HU-25 flying patrol over the Florida Straits picked up an unregistered go-fast boat outrunning a Cuban patrol boat. So the -25 called in the Enforcers. When they arrived above the scene Enforcer crews made radio calls in both Spanish and English. They blasted their horns, they made the requisite hand signals. But the speedboat only sped up. The helicopters shot entanglers and stingballs at it, and the go-fast went faster. The lead Enforcer fired a warning shot over its bow — actually, 100 rounds from its M-240s — but that didn't get the boat's attention. So the helicopter's marksman fired two .50-caliber rounds from the on-board target rifle and destroyed the boat's starboard engine. That slowed the boat briefly, but the captain kept going on one engine. The marksman took another couple of shots at the port engine and put that one out of commission. The crew started dumping evidence overboard, but within moments Coast Guard inflatable boats reached the disabled boat, and seized 2,200 pounds of marijuana and five gallons of hashish oil. They also arrested three suspects. Within a month the Coast Guard added four more MH-90s, which rounded up six boats, 20 suspects, 3,014 pounds of cocaine (with an estimated street value of $130 million), and 11,710 pounds of marijuana. Not bad for a $10 million investment. Having proved its worth, this armed helicopter has been part of the Coast Guard's arsenal for three years now.

Customs joins the fray

The Coast Guard is not the only agency flying against drugs in Florida. The U.S. Customs Service also patrols the coastal waters with a fleet of aircraft. Based at Homestead Air Force Base, Customs began its aviation unit back in 1971 with an oddball group of civil airplanes confiscated from smugglers. Now it has bought aircraft designed especially to stop smuggling, and its MO is similar to the Coast Guard's. For instance, it has a Lockheed P-3 Orion AWACS flying out over the ocean, "tracking inbound targets that are legitimate and not legitimate," says Zack Mann, a Customs Service senior special agent. As Customs comes closer to the floating target the AWACS launches a Cessna Citation or Beechcraft King Air that keeps on tracking the target. The agents in turn call in the UH-60 Black Hawks, painted black with a gold stripe so they won't be confused with Coast Guard helicopters. The UH-60 has a top speed of 193 knots, "the fastest helicopter in law enforcement use," Mann adds. These Black Hawks aren't armed, but the officers on board are — with handguns and rifles.

And now Customs incorporates a new drug-fighting vessel. Along with the black Black Hawks, Customs might send out a 39-foot marine interceptor, named a Midnight Express. The latest Midnight Express model comes equipped with four 225-horsepower outboard engines. And it has a top speed of 56 knots. "These boats are like the fastest boats in the world," Mann says. Well, not as fast as the smugglers' go-fast boats. But that's where the Black Hawks come in handy.

The Midnight Express and the Black Hawk work well together, and here's proof. In January 2001 Customs officers had a go-fast pinned in by the speedboat-Black Hawk combo, which presented the suspected smugglers with a choice: surrender or plow right onto the sands of Miami Beach. And, of course, that last one was the option they took — hitting the shore at top speed and sliding to a stop right in front of one of the swankier hotels. The Black Hawk set down beside the boat, spraying sand everywhere, and deployed the takedown team. Our suspects hopped out of their grounded craft and hightailed it toward the hotel. While the takedown guys jumped two suspected smugglers, the third got away. Urged on by his family, the third suspect turned himself in to police after the incident was reenacted on an episode of the America's Most Wanted television show.

But the real viewing pleasure had to go to the folks in the hotel. "Here's this big helicopter landing on the beach, guys running in, and lights on everywhere," says Mann. "It's better than any movie you could ever make."

If that's not enough proof of the team's effectiveness, here's another example. In the early morning hours one day in June 2002, a Customs surveillance airplane picked up a three-engine speedboat from Bimini, in the Bahamas, running straight for Miami — a distance of 56 miles. The surveillance airplane called in the Midnight Expresses and Black Hawks, and with those vehicles hot on its stern the speedboat headed straight for Biscayne Bay. Desperate to escape, the suspected smuggler ran the boat into a mangrove swamp just 50 yards from a playground. On board, the officers found 3,400 pounds of illicit drugs: 800 pounds of marijuana and 2,600 pounds of cocaine. Not a bad night's work.

Those helicopters have sliced illegal immigration in half since 2001, and they've made it harder for smugglers to deal in the United States. Pretty soon they'll have even more help from above: unmanned aerial vehicles, UAVs. Orbiting at an altitude of around 65,000 feet, and outfitted with radar to pick up the go-fasts' healthy radar signature, the UAVs will present a complete picture of the situation in nearly all of the Florida Straits. But ultimately, to do the dirty work, they'll have to call in the cavalry. "Someone is always here and ready. The Dolphin crews are ready, the Falcon crews are ready. Twenty-four hours a day," Fisher says. "We have lots of coffee here."

Phil Scott is a freelance writer and pilot living in New York City.