Saturday, April 27, 1996 | 11:59 a.m.
Bob McKeever, a longtime ranger for the Lake Mead National Recreational Area, pulled over a speeding motorist and issued him a ticket, only to be cursed a blue streak by the driver.
"He didn't remember who I was, but I sure remembered who he was," said the 52-year-old assistant chief ranger for boating and water activities. "Three years earlier, I saved him from drowning in Lake Mead."
All in a day's work for National Park Service rangers, who don't always receive a thank you from those they rescue, but provide services vital to the safety of the 10 million annual visitors to the sprawling recreation area 20 miles east of Las Vegas.
Each year, anywhere from five to 20 swimmers, boaters and others drown at Lake Mead, giving the two-lake recreation area the highest fatality rate among U.S. national parks with water facilities.
While details of lake drownings appear routinely in the newspaper, hundreds of everyday rescues go practically unnoticed.
"We don't do this job for thanks," said Ranger Jim Sanborn, 37, search and rescue coordinator for the recreation area. He noted, however, that a few rescues stand out in his memory.
"A man left his car for a swim and couldn't find his way back to shore after it got dark," Sanborn said. "His wife called to report he was overdue and we went out in boats to look for him."
After several hours, things started to look bleak as the boats moved slowly in the dark so as not to run over a lost swimmer treading water.
"Finally, we heard someone calling for help and started zeroing in," said Sanborn, who has spent his entire 13-year career at Lake Mead. "When we got him in the boat, he was suffering from hypothermia. I believe we got to him just in time, because he went under when we arrived."
Late last month, Sanborn was giving a lecture on boating safety at the Alan Bible Visitors Center when a ranger came into the room to inform him a search was on for two missing teenage girls on a personal watercraft.
Sanborn abruptly wrapped up his presentation and left to coordinate the rescue efforts.
Joined by two boats from the Nevada Division of Wildlife, the four boats carrying the rangers began the needle-in-a-haystack search for the girls who were from New Jersey.
Like many lake novices, the girls were unprepared for the sub-50-degree early spring nighttime temperatures. They wore only swimsuits and no footwear.
"We talked to people who had last seen the girls, then did a zigzag grid search," Sanborn said, noting that the job can be painstaking and tedious.
Sanborn, who is certified in many forms of rescue including rope and swift water, was not the one who located the girls' craft. That honor went to McKeever, a 27-year ranger with 17 years experience at Lake Mead.
McKeever found the small craft along the shore and called out to the girls. A sigh of relief came as the girls, who had climbed to the top of a hill to keep a lookout for potential rescuers, came running to the rescue boat -- cold and tired, but otherwise all right.
"What makes it better for a person in need of rescue today compared to decades ago is that many areas of the lake are so frequently visited by boaters and others," said McKeever, who also serves as executive vice president of the National Water Safety Congress.
"Today, there are simply more people to help other people who are in trouble, so lost individuals don't have to rely on just the occasional ranger passing by. And the Flight for Life helicopter also has made a big difference."
The Lake Mead National Recreational Area is one of the busiest in the national park system. On Memorial Day alone, a quarter-million people visit the 1.5 million-acre site the size of Rhode Island.
In addition to boating and swimming mishaps, cliff-diving has become a big headache for the rangers, as crowds of mostly teens journey to semi-secluded spots where they throw parties, drink and swim -- a combination that has proved deadly.
So much so that alcohol, allowed everywhere else on the lake, has been banned from the cliffs at Gypsum Wash.
The cliffs, jutting from water with constantly changing levels, are the scene of crippling or fatal accidents each year.
Sanborn says heavy drinking remains the No. 1 problem at the lake.
"Alcohol is prevalent everywhere, but because this is a desert environment, people will tend to drink a lot, not realizing that alcohol causes dehydration," he said. "The more one becomes dehydrated, the more one drinks, and before you know it that person is intoxicated.
"Then that person goes swimming, boating or cliff-diving and that's when the problems occur."
McKeever notes that peer pressure also plays a role when inexperienced swimmers -- often young adult males -- try to swim beyond their skills to keep up with their buddies.
"Often, the better swimmers look back and ask each other where their friend is. But by then he has gone under or they see him struggling but can't get to him in time to save him from drowning."
McKeever said while a trip to the lake is viewed by almost everyone as a relaxed, laid-back time, people also should "consider the lake a hostile environment."
There simply are not enough rangers -- 44, unchanged for many years despite a significant increase in visitors -- to watch every area all the time.
"We do the best with what we have," McKeever said.
IN MONDAY'S SUN: Backyard pools a "silent killer" of children.
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