Many people have been asking me to write this post, but honestly I have not known where to start.

First there is the clinical side of the story. That is the timeline marking minute by minute the chain of events that unfolded on Friday June 12 and turned into a scary and heroic rescue resulting from incredible response from an island of people that will truly do whatever it takes to take care of its own.

And then there is the emotional side of what we were all feeling. The people, family, human side that gives you a kick in your stomach, you feel like puking right there on the beach and you only want someone to wake you up from the nightmare. The feeling of being helpless and not knowing what to do, because all that you can do is pray and hope for the best. When you have no words for someone asking what can they do to help, or when your eleven year old daughter says…”Mom, what if they don’t find him?” Or when she says “We are praying, how come God hasn’t answered our prayers?” When your only answer is… “I Don’t Know”

I had not sat down to start writing this until today. And now, only after Tyler texted me this morning wanting to meet me and Sean for breakfast that I feel like I can attempt this. After hearing his terrifying side of this miracle survival and rescue story. I knew that it would take me a few days to be able to sit down and find the right words to explain our experience.

It was ten after two, on Friday afternoon. Blue skies all around with perfect white cotton candy clouds hung meticulously in layers surrounding Tybee Island . The sun was scorching hot as the numbers on the thermometer inched up into the 90s. I had spent the last hour packing camp gear and preparing provisions for the weekend. For the past several weeks my husband Sean and our daughter Ava, age eleven, had been planning a trip to Little Tybee with our friends Tyler, Brenda and their nine year old son Jack, plus any campers that would want to join in were also welcome. We have great memories from the trip we made last year with Tyler and a few other friends, this year we were excited that Brenda and Jack were able to join us.

Knowing the weather was expected to be pretty darn hot, we packed plenty of ice, cold drinks and food. Hoping to keep our supplies cold  for the duration of the trip.Although my experience with kayaking is fairly limited, I knew enough that I will enjoy it when I am not lugging a bunch of weekend camping supplies.
I happily accepted an offer from our friend, Hook, to take me, Ava and our supplies over by boat earlier in the day so that we could set up camp.

Little Tybee is an island that sits across the Back River just south of Tybee. Even though it is called Little Tybee, don’t let the name fool you.  It is about five times the size of Tybee. It is a state protected island that preserves the natural beauty and wildlife there. Locals from Tybee will retreat to the remote isolated island to occasionally escape from the crowds of tourists that flock to the public Tybee beaches in the spring and summer months.

Sean, Ava and I, boarded Hook’s shiney new boat with our coolers, bags and tents. Within 10 easy minutes we were on the oceanfront side of Little Tybee dragging our gear to the shore.

I leaned in for a quick kiss to Sean saying “I’ll see you in a couple hours” as he hopped in the boat with Hook and headed back to Tybee.

The plan was, they would kayak over to our campsite around 5:00, just as the tide was turning so they would be kayaking with the current and have plenty of daylight left to set up camp.

During the next four hours we pitched tents, strung up tarps, designated a latrine area, gathered firewood, and took some pictures. At one point, we even hunkered down inside our tent during a flash thunderstorm where we could hear the emergency warning sirens screaming across the back river from Tybee Island.

As anything in life happens, not everything goes as planned. Running late from work, getting stuck in traffic and an unexpected severe thunderstorm warning caused one delay after another for the rest of the crew. I received a text from Sean at 7:04 saying “Shoving off in 5. Putting the phone in the bag. Love ya and see ya in a bit”

At 8:02 Ava and I see two people and a dog skipping happily down the beach headed toward us. It was Brenda and Jack with their pup Crypto. Brenda was in good spirits explaining that although their kayak had capsized, Sean had turned around and helped them right it. He got Jack back in the boat, put Crypto in his lap, and had Brenda hold on to the side of his boat and he paddled with his one free hand. Within a few minutes he had pulled them ashore to the north point of Little Tybee.

He looked around and saw that Tyler had not made the turn to hug the shore towards the ocean facing beach front as planned. The outgoing tide was pulling hard into the ocean. Sean pointed his kayak towards Tyler to give him a hand. He appeared to be struggling as he was in a kayak, but he was also pulling a canoe filled with their camping provisions.

We watched from the beach cheering them on as the sun started to set and paint a beautiful scene to our backs. We were concerned at this point, but not yet with sense of overwhelming danger. After two minutes passed, we saw they had quickly lost all ground they had just covered and were pulled hundreds of feet further from us, to the next set of breakers. Now worry was growing inside of me, at 8:17  I called Hook to see if he could come with his boat to help them. He said that he would not be able to get his boat out due to the low tide.

I quickly hung up, and called 911. This call took me to the Tybee Police Department, where I gave a detailed description of where we were and what was happening from what we could see. They called me back 5 minutes later for more details. I then posted on Facebook a plea for help. Hoping that someone would see it in their news feed and would have a boat already in the water, that could help them immediately. A couple people from a group that was camping on the point walked over to see what was happening. I ended up knowing one of them, Josh Flores, who being a long time local, was able to tell the Coast Guard the specific name of the sandbar they were on.

We ran to shore to build a fire so that the light from shore would help rescuers know where we were located. Thankful that Ava and I had already gathered dry sticks and driftwood for our evening campfire.

I typically let Sean handle building our campfires, but I did buy two paper covered firestarters at the grocery store that morning. I was unsure of how dry the wood on the beach would be. I flicked my small lighter over and over, trying to light the paper wrapper, to no avail, the wind was just too strong and the lighter would not stay lit.

Out of nowhere a man showed up. He was not wearing a shirt, had black swim trunks on and a boonie cap. He was walking down this extremely remote beach. Little Tybee is so remote that on a weekend you might see a total of ten people in a day. Ava went up and asked him if he had a lighter. Not only did he have a lighter, he actually had a butane cigar torch. He crouched down to our small pile of sticks and with one click he had the fire starter lit. We thanked him and he continued on his beach stroll, completely unaware of our 911 calls for help.

Jack, Ava and Brenda nurtured the fire for the next several minutes and I returned to the shoreline and began answering the calls that came flooding in to my phone. I feel like I need to mention a few things about my phone, as it was the most important part of how we got the cry out for help that night. I carry a Samsung Note 4. I am on it a lot, as I use it to blog from and I use the camera features extensively. A few months ago, I purchased a spare battery and charger from Samsung. This was the best $30 I ever spent. When I made the first call for help my phone battery was at 10%. I switched to the fully charged battery and was able to communicate through the night with authorities and first responders, while utilizing the flashlight from my phone.

Looking down as my phone was buzzing, I see it is my daughter Baylie. She was  calling to tell me she was at Alley Three on Tybee watching the sunset with her friends. Not knowing any of the situation that was happening where we were, she said that there were police officers looking for kids that were kayaking and had not returned, thinking I might know something about it.  I told her I did not know about that, but that I had called for help for her father and Tyler.

Talking to Baylie, was the first time I started to get emotional during whole situation. I pleaded with her to find someone with a boat from the shore that could get it in the water right away. Within, minutes she called me back and said she found someone and he was on his way.

Meanwhile, this is what was happening from Sean’s point of view…..
The waves and winds were strong with water crashing into their boats Sean was able to catch up to Tyler and relieve him from the canoe.
Within minutes of Sean tying the canoe to his kayak, they were now riding the breakers into shore and they both felt that they would be on the beach in a few minutes. But then a breaker crashed over the canoe filling it up, causing it to capsize. Sean looked down and saw that he was now on the sandbar in only a few inches of water. Seeing that low tide had arrived, he saw that he could just walk the kayak and canoe into shore. Although on a moment’s notice and two steps later, he dropped off of the sandbar shelf and went from ankle deep water into a 10 ft. deep channel. He knew he could no longer handle both boats so he cut himself loose and sacrificed the canoe. After attempting to still swim with the kayak, the currents were still too strong and he abandoned the kayak as well.

Earlier he had seen Tyler walking on the sandbar in the distance as, and yelled to him, telling him to not come that way because it was too deep. Sean was wearing his life jacket, paddling and kicking, as it was pulling him further into the south flowing rip current. After swimming for about ten minutes he soon found the sand bar again and pulled his body up onto it. Knowing that within an hour he would be able to simply walk to the beach across the shallow tidal pools, as the tide would soon reach its lowest point. But until that time, the currents were still strong enough to pull the sand out from under his feet. As long as he just kept moving gently across the sandbar he could remain standing. He had thought Tyler was on his way to the beach, since he was no longer tied to the canoe. By this time is was too dark to see but he kept his eyes on the beach toward the fire we had built. Assuming that those of us on shore had called for help, he just waited.

Then he saw a boat pulling up. A voice called to him asking if he was the missing kayaker. He said yes, “I am one of them.” He jumped in the boat and this Tybee Good Samaritan, Robert Helmly, rushed him to shore. This was the boater that Baylie had found a few minutes earlier. As they arrived to shore, I was so relieved to hear Sean’s voice. Except that he was asking if Tyler was with us, which meant he wasn’t with them.

We quickly scanned the darkened beach and saw that he was not there. That is when the panic began to set in and this was now a dire emergency. By this time my phone and Facebook was blowing up with texts, messages and phonecalls from islanders asking what they could do to help.

Within minutes, dozens of boats were mobilized and a search was being coordinated between the Marine Rescue Squadron (MRS), Tybee Ocean Rescue, and the U.S. Coast Guard.  Robert took Sean to Alley Three where he joined in with the authorities, giving descriptions of precisely where they were and what the rip tide was doing.

For the next two hours I fielded calls from first responders and concerned family and friends doing what they could to help with the rescue efforts. Special thanks to Jennifer Knox for immediately engaging Timmie Tillman who coordinated several boats through MRS.

Ava and I followed the directions we were given from April Moore of  Tybee Ocean Rescue to continue combing the beach with flash lights. I only had my cell phone light as Sean had the flashlights in his bags.

Searching and praying in desperation we continued to walked as far as we could towards the ocean. The Coast Guard helicopter was overhead with search lights circling the waters. Dozens of rescue boats were in the distance with flashes of light swivelling through the dark space that hung over the sea. Hanging on to a thread of hope knowing that Tyler had a life jacket on. We prayed fervently that someone would spot him soon.

Finally at 10:25 I received a call from the Coast Guard petty officer stating they had contact with him (we later found out it was through his cell phone that had miraculously  stayed dry and was functioning) Then I received a follow up call ten minutes later confirming they had indeed found Tyler, alive. At 10:55, they pulled him into a rescue boat, about a half mile past the breakers in the ocean, nearing international waters. Which was somewhere near 1 1/2- 2 miles from shore. They stated he was dehydrated and hypothermic, but was otherwise unharmed.

I shouted praises of thanks to my God. Ava was with me when I received the call and she sprinted 1/4 mile down the beach in the dark to bring the good news to Brenda and Jack. I quickly sent a text to as many people as I could and posted on facebook that he was found safe and alive asking everyone to spread the word.

About 30 minutes later, a couple of boats were on their way to pick up Brenda, Jack, Crypto, me and Ava. Although Ava and I decided to continue our camping for the night, everything was already set up and Tyler was going to be OK. Sean and others would join us in the morning. We helped Brenda and Jack back to the northern point where the boat could get close enough to retrieve them.

Ava and I walked back to camp and began to stoke the fire again. It took hours for the adrenaline to settle down and my heart rate back to normal. We fed the sticks and palm fronds in the fire, as we ate cold cereal from little cardboard boxes.  Sean called me after he returned home and took a shower. We made our plans to reunite in the morning.

By 1:30 am, Ava and I decided to turn in for the night in our tent. She went to sleep quickly. I layed awake for another two hours,  reliving and recounting the nightmarish scenes of the night. For the first time that night, tears finally began to roll down my cheeks. Looking through the timeline of phone calls and texts on my phone. Counting fifty-two phone calls in a three hour time period. I log on to Facebook to find hundreds of messages from friends and family that extended prayers and pleas for help for our friend’s safe return.

The next morning, I could not wait to wrap my arms around Sean. He soon arrived with other friends in a boat and then we spent the morning exchanging stories from each perspective. He told me of the faces and names that were at Alley Three, waiting for their safe return. I later learned from other friends who were out and about on the island praying and searching the other Tybee beaches, just in case something turned up. I was told of the cheers and rejoicing that bellowed from many of the bars and restaurants as the good news  filtered through the island. Sláinte.

It has been one week since the event. I heard several accounts from people that saw a long brilliant shooting star that happened just minutes before the rescue call arrived. Regardless of what you believe, it is undeniable the amount of love and energy that were poured into getting Tyler home. When love pours out no one can question the miracles that abound. I attribute these miracles to our loving God who has made it clear that Tyler and Sean have not finished their work on earth yet.  Yesterday we received word that the kayak and canoe that Sean had cut loose that night ended up returning to Tybee Creek, on their own. They were both found nestled together (but not tied together)  just beyond Alley Three at AJ’s dockside.

I did not include the details of Tyler’s account of what he went through. That’s his story to tell. If he chooses to put words to paper or screen, I will be sure to share it with you. 

When Sean and I moved to Tybee, we thought we would just be passing through for a few years, as a place to catch our breath. But instead this island and these people have taken our breath away.

Thank you for reading my blog. Please consider subscribing to my update list at the bottom of this page (on mobile) or top right (on computer)