


Heroism in the abyss: the valiant story of Jack Dipert
By Seaman Sarah Cashwell
The depths of
In
A frigid breeze lightly blew John Jack Dipert’s chestnut brown hair as he walked into the U.S. Coast Guard Life Saving Station Friday, November 30, 1934 to report for evening watch. After enjoying an entire day on liberty and looking forward to a championship football game the next day, the drafty watch tower did not seem to be too much of an inconvenience. John, better known as Jack, had enjoyed the Coast Guard since he had joined that preceding June. His father, William Dipert, a 27-year veteran, and was also deeply affiliated in the Coast Guard and was the officer-in-charge of Station Frankfort. Both men would soon make the ultimate sacrifice for their professions. One would lose his only son, the other, was destined to give his life for his fellow man, following the well-known purpose of a Coast Guardsman; “So others may live.”
That night, Jack looked out into the seemingly black abyss of churning, tumultuous waves. The cold from the windy November day seemed to lurk in the watchtower with an eerie, foreboding presence. Just after 10 p.m. the irritating clang of the emergency alarm bell jarred Jack from his tedious watch. In that instance there was no time for thought, no patience for fear, just methodical action, which came from many hours of strenuous training for an event such as this. Jack Dipert seemed to fly down the stairs and was also met at the storage shed by four other members of the crew: Chief Boatswain John Basch, Edward Beckman, Roger Stearman and Charles Bontekoe. In the early hours of the night it seemed Poseidon had risen from
The defiant, deafening roar of
Chief Basch, who was also an officer-in-charge with 25 years of experience in the
Three of the five crewmembers were hurled overboard. Chief Basch maintained his meticulous, highly stressful job of navigating and driving the small vessel while Edward Beckman assisted Bontekoe and Stearman back onto the weathered deck, out of the murderously hostile seas. In a particularly violent wave, Jack Dipert, the handsome, 6-foot-3, popular native of
In terror, his crew frantically searched for him before being overtaken with the present elements and capsized very close to the stern of the vessel in which was stubbornly still entangled in the break wall.
The four remaining nearly frozen surfmen clung to their overturned boat as Lake Michigan roared with disappointment as they were washed onto the north shore
The Coast Guard Station located in Grand Haven and the Coast Guard Cutter Escanaba maintained the responsibility of standing by throughout the rest of the night. Later that morning, a hazardous rescue of every crewmember aboard the Henry W. Cort was accomplished; no soul was lost of the freighter’s crew.
The U.S. Coast Guard Ensign of Grand Haven’s large 90-hp surfboat waved with victory as a line was cast over and the crew of the Cort followed the line, one by one, across the jagged rocks, a quarter-mile to safety.
That fateful night many people from
Nearly 75 years later, divers can see the scrap yard of wreckage from the Henry Cort, an eerie reminder of the power and
Although Jack Dipert’s body was never found, a plaque was created, in his honor, which is now located in the Pentwater cemetery.
This young man’s story will never be forgotten within the