Station Grand Haven, Saturday, 15 April 2000. At 1442, the Officer of the Day at Station Grand Haven, Boatswain Mate First Class John Hersrud, received a telephone call from Telecomunications Specialist Debra Ball at the Group Grand Haven communications center regarding a possible downed aircraft in Lake Michigan. Doctor Charles Rousch, the reporting party whose home overlooks Lake Michigan, later said: "I had the feeling he ( the pilot) was feeling his way down in the fog. So I ran to the bluff to try and see it but didn’t see anything...then I heard a loud bang, and the engine noise stopped." Rousch, a pilot himself, immediately called the Coast Guard and 911 with his portable phone.

Within minutes after Rousch’s call, a Station Grand Haven boatcrew aboard a 25-foot RHIB broke the pierheads at Grand Haven en route to the reported crash site approximately seven miles north of Grand Haven, Michigan. A heavy fog greeted the boatcrew. "It was spooky," said Chief John Anten, "The water, sky, and nearby shore took on an eerie likeness. It was difficult telling one from the other."

The crew sped north through the fog; the coxswain’s eyes shifted from the radar screen to the bow where tears trickled from crewmen’s eyes as they peered into the thick soup. "It was cold," said Coast Guardsman Hosford. Approximately seven miles north the boat crew encountered a lone kayaker near the Mona Lake entrance; on shore a gathering of people suggested that the crew was near the crash site. This was confirmed by the kayaker who told the crew he heard an airplane, then a splash, then nothing.

Following the kayaker’s lead the boat crew headed off into the fog toward the northwest. Approximately two miles out Boatswain Mate Second Class Roland Ashby throttled down. The crew leaned their ears into the fog- nothing. One or two minutes later they throttled down again. The Group radio operator’s voice along with the sputtering Johnson outboards echoed across the fog . Chief Anten suggested that they shut down the engines and tune out the radio. They did but heard nothing. "I was turning to tell Ashby to fire up the engines when I heard a faint cry," said Chief Anten. Ashby and Hosford heard nothing. Firing up the engines, they continued northwest. A minute or so later Ashby, stopped and again shut down the engines and radio. "This time we all heard a kid-like cry. It sounded like the distant shrill of kids at play," said Hosford.

Continuing northwest for a moment or two, Ashby again shut down the engines for the third time. The hollering grew louder. The boat crew shouted instructions into the fog to keep hollering. Picking their way through the fog, they found a small clearing where an amazing sight greeted them. Off the bow, a dark head like object loomed upon the still water. As they drew nearer, they saw a man and boy clinging to an airplane tire. "It was as if fingers from above placed them there. There was no wreckage, no gas or oil on the water, nothing, just this man and a boy clinging to a tire," said Hosford who further added, "It was like a scene from the Twilight Zone."

Above the fog clattered a Coast Guard helicopter. From Grand Haven raced the station’s 47-foot Motor Life Boat; a nearby North Muskegon County fire boat with paramedics aboard zoomed toward the coast guard boat. The crew hauled the victims aboard. "The father could barely speak or move. He couldn’t hold his head straight, his lips were blue, his body rigid. We had a heck of a time getting a life jacket on him," said Ashby. The father was wearing blue jeans, a polo shirt, and docksider shoes. His boy wore the same except he had no shoes or socks.

"This rescue was definitely divinely influenced," said Hosford. "It was only a matter of minutes before they would’ve slipped way."

"I thought we were going to die," said 12-year-old Charlie Lawrence. "My fingers we getting so cold it was hard to hang onto the tire. When the Coast Guard got to us, I figured I could last another 10 minutes."

Charlie and his dad were lucky they even survived the impact. "I couldn’t push the door open because of the water pressure so I had to swim out the window as the plane went down," said the dad, Bernie Lawrence. According to Charlie his dad had to bust out a window to get him out; by then the cockpit was under water. "It seemed within a minute the plane filled with water, " said Charlie. "My hands and legs were numb by the time the Coast Guard arrived."

When the Muskegon fire boat arrived on scene, they transferred a paramedic over to the RHI, the crew raced toward Muskegon. Moments later they moored at Station Muskegon where an ambulance greeted the father and son. At the hospital, the father’s core body temperature read 89 degrees, up from an estimated 85-degrees in the water. The elapsed time from the moment the boat crew launched to when they plucked the father and son from the water was 18 minutes.

Bernie Lawrence, 50, and his son Charlie were later released from Muskegon’s Hackley hospital. "I guess it just wasn’t their time," said Chief Anten.

Well, Chief, it could well have been their time had a hoax call been made an hour sooner. After the rescue crew returned to Station Grand while refueling their boat they were directed to respond to a May day call which turned out to be hoax. Charlie told me later: "If they (boatcrew) were out on that hoax call an hour earlier, I would be dead."

As of May 30, 2000, CG Group Grand Haven has recieved 16 hoax calls. Help us track down the hoaxers who make these life-threatening calls. Call Group Grand Haven Coast Guard at (616) 850-2501, or the CG Tipline at 1-800-264-5980. Boat Smart, give them a call.

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Boat Smart is now on the Internet: www.boatsmart.net (includes Lake Michigan water temperatures and local weather).

Use channel 16 for emergencies, and channel 9 for calling fellow boaters.