A single mechanical failure or mistake isn’t what usually results in a “Mayday!” call on marine VHF radio. Compound failures or mistakes typically cause potentially disastrous situations for even experienced boaters who seem to have grown up on hardtack and weevils aboard ships.

Professionals and conscientious, cautious private boaters check mechanical and electrical systems before heading out. We also make sure life-protection equipment is aboard.

This includes adequate life vests, fully charged fire extinguishers, first aid kit, and a ditch bag. Such erstwhile preparations still do not guarantee that something will not go frightfully wrong at sea.

Here are the stories of a couple incidents I’ve heard and responded to:

While fishing an area we call the 1-Mile, I heard a Mayday call loud and clear, which means the transmission came from relatively nearby.

The boater identified himself by vessel name and radio call sign. He gave his location first in latitude/longitude, then by location description.

He described his boat, then described the nature of the distress. This guy – under duress – performed like a seasoned pro, thereby guaranteeing himself a rapid response from rescue vessels adequately equipped for the specific set of problems.

I determined that I was probably the closest vessel. On my command, my passengers gladly reeled up their fishing lines and we blasted off to render assistance.

The boater in distress was one of our professional commercial fishing divers who continued to provide information over the radio. His vessel was taking on water through a failed hull seal at a rate that his bilge pumps couldn’t keep up with.

Once his batteries became submerged, he no longer had power to his bilge pumps, and his vessel was in danger of sinking. Upon arrival at the location, I could see that the boat sat very low in the water.

Our Santa Barbara Harbor Patrol had responded and they were not more than 10 minutes behind me. I knew they had powerful pumps onboard to dewater the vessel, so I hove to, close enough to quickly take the man aboard if his vessel went under.

This gave him confidence to keep working on the problem (bailing water with a bucket). We talked as he worked, and I kept the U.S. Coast Guard informed via my radio as they coordinated the overall rescue.

The Harbor Patrol soon arrived on the scene, boarded the boat, fired up their pumps and quickly removed enough water to take the boat in tow and bring it back to harbor for repairs.

Calm cool communications and great teamwork saved the day.

The scariest potential disaster on board a boat is fire. A call went out on the marine VHF radio from a very scared-sounding boater who reported smoke coming from her engine. She was worried it might burst into flames.

Over the radio we could hear the sound of a young child crying. I’m sure that youngster could sense the near-panic of the adults.

We throttled up and ran to the boater’s aid, while I connected via radio with the Harbor Patrol and U.S. Coast Guard to announce our relative position and ability to respond.

Over the radio, the professionals asked just the right questions, and led the boater through the steps necessary to determine there was no real threat of fire.

A tow boat was dispatched, and the situation was carefully monitored by radio until the tow boat arrived. Multiple engine problems had caused the scare. As the adults calmed down, so did the child.

There are many stories of near disasters at sea. The common thread through the stories of successful outcomes is calm and reasoned demeanor on the part the boater in distress, vessels rendering assistance, and the trained rescue professionals.

I doff my well-worn hat to the Harbor Patrol and Coast Guard. These good folks save lives and boats.