Sewing almost prevented Trevor Surber from joining the Navy.

When the Indiana native enlisted, one of jobs his recruiter offered him was aviation survival equipmentman. It’s commonly known as parachute rigger.

Sewing occupies a good portion of the job.

After hearing the description of the job, Surber walked away. He did not want a job requiring sewing.

“Since middle school, I thought sewing was the worst thing,” Surber said.

“Nothing could be more girly.”

Parachute riggers sew everything from unit patches on flight suits to leg restraints, harnesses and other accoutrements for flight crews. They inspect, pack and maintain parachutes — and all other survival gear.

Surber reconsidered and decided the job sounded interesting. He went to school to learn the basics of being an aviation survival equipmentman. Part of that school was learning how to sew.

Since learning to sew, Surber said he’s made gym bags for himself as well as saved a good bit of money by repairing and sewing patches on his uniforms.

“Sewing’s a good skill to know,” he admits.

Surber, a third class petty officer, works at VAQ-129 which trains crews on EA-6B Prowlers.

In VAQ-129’s parachute shop, flight gear for students and instructors hang in neat rows topped by helmets.

Each set of survival gear weighs about 40 pounds. A fluid-filled G-suit laces up the flyer’s legs and fit girdle-like at the waist. When the Prowlers start experiencing gravitational forces, the fluid forces blood from the legs into the torso and head, keeping flight crews conscious. Leg restraints prevent broken limbs in case a crew ejects. The torso harness, parachute and survival gear are the bulkiest items to wear. The vest’s pockets contains flares, signals, markers, a radio and a flashlight. To be effective, every stitch of gear must be sewn precisely.

Senior Chief Petty Officer Jim Kiesel said an initial dislike of sewing is common to sailors starting the job.

“But everyone quickly realizes sewing is a good skill to have,” said Keisel, the senior aviation survival equipmentman at NAS Whidbey.

Survival equipmentmen are stationed at every aviation squadron at the base. Items that need more detailed work are sent to the Paraloft at Aircraft Intermediate Maintenance Department. There sailors inspect, repair and replace survival equipment, including ejection seats and breathing equipment for Prowlers. And they sew.

Some people may consider parachute riggers glorified seamstresses.

But keeping aircrews safe is a serious job.

“When everything else has gone wrong, we are the last chance someone has to survive,” Chief Petty Officer Neil Halstead said.

Halstead supervises the Paraloft’s 58 aviation survival equipmentmen.

Their job is to pack and inspect all aviation life support gear. At this level, squadron parachute shops send in gear for regular inspections along with gear that’s been damaged enough to require higher levels of inspection.

“We rip into everything, repair it and replace what we need to,” Halstead said.

In what he called the “Rubber Room,” people pore over life vests and life rafts, inflating them, checking seals and making sure vests and rafts stay inflated.

In the “O Room” staff work on breathing gear. Machines can simulate cockpit pressure. The oxygen-enriched environment mandates special precautions, Halstead said.

To reduce fumes that could affect testing gear, no one may wear fragrances of any type. Special paint which emits no fumes covers walls and equipment.

Usually, the most senior people work in the O Room, Halstead said.

Industrial sewing machines line the walls of the Parachute Room. Here, parachutes are inspected and tension placed on lines.

NAS Whidbey’s Paraloft features a one-of-a-kind room where ejection seats from Prowlers get mandatory annual inspections. At other bases, civilian contractors maintain ejection seats, Halstead said. Only at NAS Whidbey do enlisted crews put ejection seats through a strip-down overhaul.

Inspectors spend three days stripping each seat down to its frame, removing corrosion, cleaning every millimeter, replacing gear and putting the seat back together. Inspectors watch everything and document each step.

Paperwork is a major part of the job.

To reduce the chance of accidents, Senior Chief Petty Officer Kiesel said “intense tool controls” are followed. And quality insurance inspectors look over work that has already received inspections.

“When news of a crew ejecting comes in, everyone’s first thought is, ‘Did the crew make it?’” Kiesel said.

After that comes running serial numbers and pulling files to review who packed and handled the gear.

Coming to terms with responsibility for the lives of aircrew takes some time.

“For a while, all you think about is ‘Would I feel safe to fly?’ and ‘Would I feel safe with what I’d packed?’,” Surber said.

Surber said knowing how much attention to detail everyone concentrates on alleviates sobering thoughts. But no one completely forgets the facts of their responsibilities. In this community, complacency is an ever-present fear.

Ejecting is infrequent but workers can’t discount the possibility. In July 2003, a crew of four ejected safely after a Prowler assigned to VAQ-135 rolled off the deck of the aircraft carrier USS Nimitz. In February 2003 a three-person crew with VAQ-129 ejected during maneuvers off the USS John C. Stennis. In November 2001, a three-man crew from VAQ-129 ejected over the Olympic Peninsula. One man broke his leg.

“We know how important our job is,” Kiesel said.

According to Halstead the Navy avaition survival equipmentmen’s motto is,

“We’re the last ones to let you down.”