"Hey Earl, how's it going?"
I heard the voice of my friend Mac, owner of a competitor charter company. Mac has three boats just down the finger from where I tie up mine.
I looked up from scrubbing my fish hold," Hey Mac, How's it going with you?"
I looked at his grinning face. Mac always seemed chipper and grinning even in the heat of the busy, bone wearing charter season.
"You finding any salmon? Mac asked as he sat on the side of my boat.
"Ha ha! You joke," I shot back at him.
We both knew it was one of the worst years for king salmon harvest in South East Alaska.
I tugged on the dock water hose.
"Hang on your tangled on the tie up cleat," Mac said as he bounded off the boat to untangle it for me.
"Thanks man, you saved me climbing out of the fish hold." I said
"What I was wondering," Mac said, "if you have a child pfd (life jacket) I could borrow?"
"I don't, but you can get one at the top of the ramp from the harbor department," I replied.
"Those are type three, and I need a type one," Mac said.
"Sorry I don't or I'd sure loan it to you," I said.
"I'll try Brian or Howie," Mac said as he stood and walked away. I've got a flight seeing in a little while, so got to keep moving. Have a great evening,"
"You too!" I shot back as he hurried down the dock.
It was hot and sunny, strange for our rain forest area, but making me hurry the boat clean up to get home to a nice shower.
I arrived at the boat the next morning at my usual 4:45. I quickly readied the rods, reels, restocked the coolers for the new day's clients. I untied and shoved off to head to Cresent harbor where I pick up the clients.
I was idling out of Sealing Cove harbor when I heard the Coast Guard announce:
"Pon Pon, Pon pon, pon pon (pronounced pawn pawn). I cranked the radio up to hear clearly.
This is United States Coast Guard Sector Juneau, United States Coast Guard Sector Juneau. Time 8:45 pm Alaska daylight time. Report of an over due float plane. A red and white plane has been reported overdue as of 8:00 last night in the vicinity of Katlian Bay. All mariners are requested to keep a sharp lookout, help if necessary, and report to the nearest Coast Guard.
This is United States Coast Guard Sector Juneau - out."
I turned down the volume on the radio just as my cell phone rang.
It was Howie.
"Hey Howie, how's it going this morning?" I chirped cheerily to him.
"Not good. Did you hear Mac's plane is missing since last night."
All the blood drained out of me. I grabbed onto the steering wheel of the boat gasping for breath.
"No!" I whispered into the phone.
"Mac took one of his clients on a short flight seeing to look at mountain goats last night. Only supposed to be gone 20 minutes but never made it back."
"oh my goodness. No!" I hope he landed somewhere waiting for the weather to break," I told Howie.
"That's what we are all hoping for," Howie said hanging up.
I looked out the window of the boat low fog covered all the mountains almost down to the ocean, making a coast guard aerial search impossible.
Clients came on board all excited for a new day of fishing but my belly churned with worry for Mac and his client. Maybe they landed on one of the many high lakes and could not get radio signal out.
I announced to our fleet of captains that the pon pon was for Mac. All of us knew him well.
The pon pon continued all through out the day as the heavy fog clung to the mountains. We could hear search and rescue calling for Mac on hand held radios as they hiked nearly impossible mountains to lakes they hoped he would have landed on. No reply from Mac.
The heavy fog misted cold and clammy onto the fishing fleet. If Mac had crashed and on the mountains he would be suffering from hyperthermia. Time was ticking away quickly.
"Please Mac, make it through somehow," I breathed prayers to myself.
All that night we heard the Coast Guard Helicopters fly search patterns. Darkness and fog could not be a good combination.
Howie called the next morning his voice hallow, "They found the plane... crashed nose down in a creek... Mac's body still strapped in. He didn't make it. They are still searching for the client. Maybe they will find him alive."
I was numb. I stared out the window of the boat listening to the happy chatter of excited clients climbing on board. It would be a tough day.
Search and rescue did find the client's body also lifeless down the creek a bit. For some reason the plane just spiraled out of the sky into the creek.
Rugged Alaska once again leveed its toll of human life when dealing with its beauty.
Mac had dealt with difficulty before. I wrote a couple years back about Lucky To Be Alive and how he and a deck hand lived through the sinking of their boat. He lived then, now this land dealt him the final blow.
Each day I see his boat captains walk past my boat. Life is going on, not easily, but still doing their duties to clients.
I hear the powerful roar of the beaver float plane engines roar over head... I cringe thinking about Mac.
One week after Mac's crash another float plane launched out of Ketchikan 11 people on board. It crashed into the top of a mountain and all persons survived, some broken bones and cuts, but alive.
We may never hear why Mac's plane crashed. There are always questions and suppositions surrounding something like this.
I know it is tragic. It leaves a scar on those around. We will go on, but I will always remember my final chat with Mac just an hour before he crossed from life to eternity.
Good by my friend.
The Grey day they searched for Mac's plane in fog covered mountains
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