Fighter jet crash leads to harrowing ocean rescue And then he stepped out that door and slid down a line into the rolling dark ocean. The life of a U.S. Coast Guard helicopter rescue crew ranges from routine to boring about 99 percent of the time, but the sliver that makes up the rest is a mix of high ad­ven­ture, great challenge and sometimes enormous risk. Every night of the year a "ready" crew of four and an equal number of back ups while their time near their big MH-60 Jayhawk helicopters in places like the Coast Guard Air Station in Elizabeth City, N.C., a coastal town just south of the Virginia line. Sometimes they are called out when pleasure craft or fishing boats founder in the tricky currents as the Gulf Stream whips around Cape Hatteras. Now and then cruise ship passenger or a cargo ship crew member stricken with illness or injury needs to be hoisted from the deck and whisked to a hospital. Rarely, however, to Air Force jet fighters end up in the ocean after dark. "This does not happen very often," said Coast Guard Lt. Cmdr. Steve Bonn, who piloted the helicopter. Going out and picking up a military jet pilot who collided with another jet or simply ejected for any reason is a very rare occurrence for us. The signal an Air National Guard F-16C - from Joint Base Andrews just outside the Capital Beltway in Prince George's County - had gone down in the Atlantic came into the coast guard a 20 to 30 minutes before 11 p.m. Thursday. All planes and ships, and most boats that venture off shore, carry emergency beacons that send satellite signals to help rescuers track them down. "We took on a little extra fuel because we knew we might be out there for a little bit," Bonn said. It was about 100 miles away from our station. The downed fighter - which retails for upward of $18 million - was taking part in routine night training about 35 miles off the coast of Chincoteague when it touched wings with another F-16 at 10:28 p.m. The second plane was damaged but not so crippled it couldn't limp home. The pilot who ejected from the single-seat plane, floated to the sea and inflated a one-man life raft. With his beacon activated, the pilot knew that a rescue unit would soon head his way. The ready crew that scrambled in Elizabeth City - the pilot, Bonn, co- pilot Lt. David Birky, Petty Officer 2nd Class Mark Bergman, and the rescue swimmer Fogle - roared off to sea, honing in on the beacon signal at 200 miles an hour. There were a lot of severe thunderstorms in the coming through the area. We were luckily able to skirt out to the east of the storms," Bonn said. Even with that signal beacon, they needed help in guiding them until they hovered just above. "We heard information that there was another F-16 from their squadron that had stayed on station and was orbiting overhead to keep an eye on their squadron mate who was in the water," Boon said. We were able to get communications with him about half way out there. He was able to relay communications with the pilot who was in the water.