Davids Burnell - The Velvet Hammer
After earning my place on the Pennington County Search and Rescue (PCSAR) team, I set my sights on one of the most demanding specialties in public safety: the Dive Rescue Team. This elite unit comprised full-time police officers, firefighters, and experienced SAR professionals. With my military background, strong swimming foundation, and a deep interest in high-risk operations, I knew I was ready for the challenge.
To even be considered, you had to be active in public safety for at least a year. Once I met that requirement, I joined the Dive Rescue Team and quickly found myself drawn deeper into the mission. The work was intense, meaningful, and life-changing. I wanted to do more. That drive led me to pursue advanced training and certification as a Public Safety Scuba Instructor (PSSI) through Dive Rescue International (DRI)—a premier organization committed to preparing 911 professionals for the dangers of water-based rescue and recovery.
My comfort in the water started early. I spent countless hours navigating the ocean as a kid during family beach trips. In my teen years, I trained under a former English Olympic coach who pushed me hard, developing my technique and endurance. That combination of informal experience and formal instruction made me highly capable in extreme aquatic environments long before I put on a rescue diver’s wetsuit.
The process to become a PSSI through DRI was grueling and highly selective. To qualify, I had to complete a rigorous list of prerequisites, including Medical Dive Principles, Swift Water Rescue, and Ice Diving. Physical strength and mental resilience were just the beginning—you also had to master dive physics and gas laws to operate safely in hostile, unpredictable underwater environments.
As a PSSI, my mission was crystal clear: to train 911 responders for moments when someone else’s life hangs in the balance—often in zero visibility, under ice, or in swift water. These are the calls no one wants, but someone has to answer. Tragically, an average of five public safety divers lose their lives every year, most during recovery operations rather than live rescues. That statistic alone proves why the standards must remain uncompromising.
The instructor course lasted one relentless week. It was led by a former Navy UDT/SEAL veteran, and it was not designed for comfort. Every day brought go/no-go drills, high-pressure evolutions, and in-water evaluations meant to expose weakness, sharpen instincts, and forge leaders. Of the 12 who started, two dropped out the first day—both were civilian SCUBA instructors unprepared for the harsh, mission-driven environment of public safety diving.
We trained in black water, floated with 25-pound weight belts, repeated basic swims under stress, and simulated rescues in unpredictable conditions. I’ll never forget that first day in the deep end when our weight belts hit the pool floor, and five more minutes were added to our float each time. After nearly an hour in the water, the first two candidates dropped out. And the training only escalated from there.
But the course wasn’t built to wash people out—it was built to ensure that those who passed were truly capable of leading others into danger and bringing them back alive. I graduated with the Class Leadership Award, and the lessons I learned there still shape how I think, teach, and lead.
Panic is never a solution. We were taught to stay composed in every situation—even in complete darkness, entangled, or low on air. Controlled breathing, awareness, and training beat panic every time.
Every dive carries risk. The decision to enter the water must always be weighed against the likelihood of success. Someone must be willing to go in—trained, equipped, and clear-headed.
The difference between rescue and recovery modes is critical and often time-sensitive in dive rescue operations. Rescue mode is initiated when there’s still a viable chance to save a life, typically within the first hour to ninety minutes after submersion. Speed, precision, and coordinated urgency drive the operation. Recovery mode, on the other hand, is declared when the window for survival has closed, shifting the mission’s focus to safely retrieving the victim’s body. While urgency remains, the priority shifts to minimizing risk to divers and preserving evidence or dignity for the deceased and their families. The Incident Commander or attending medical personnel usually determines the transition between these modes.
Every call begins with a scan: Is it safe to proceed? With flammable liquids, moving vehicles, and unstable ice, rescue professionals must identify threats quickly and make hard calls before committing personnel.
After earning my PSSI certification, I began receiving calls from Dive Rescue International Headquarters for national-level recovery missions. These deployments were reserved for experienced, certified instructors and often involved the most complex, emotionally challenging recoveries I’ve ever faced.
My journey from SAR responder to Dive Rescue Instructor has been one of the most demanding and fulfilling paths in my life. I’ve trained to face the worst conditions, lead others through them, and live the creed I hold close to my heart: Leave No One Behind.