Rocky River Police Patrolman Mike Bernhardt (back to camera) and Det. Sgt. Carl Gulas conduct a boat inspection last Saturday. (West Life photos by Larry Bennet)

Reporter heads out on water patrol
By Ben Saylor
Westshore
Published July 30, 2008

Last Saturday, West Life reporter Ben Saylor went out with the Rocky River Police Department’s Marine Patrol to get a first-hand look at what they do. Times that follow are approximate.

9:48 a.m.
I’ve arrived early, nervous about getting lost and being late. But the boat is just where Det. Sgt. Carl Gulas said it would be, docked underneath the Clifton Bridge. Our agreed-upon meeting time is 10 a.m., and Gulas, unsurprisingly, is already there, retrieving gear out of a small shed and putting on his uniform.

As Gulas continues with preparations to get underway, his shift partner, Patrolman Mike Bernhardt, arrives and also gets ready. While the three of us wait for the paper’s staff photographer, I glance over at the boat, a 26-foot Boston Whaler named the Argus IV. The name Argus figures prominently in Greek mythology, and the “IV” refers to the fact that this is the fourth police boat owned by the department. This particular boat has been in service since August of 2000. I look at the large twin black motors at the stern, and ask Gulas whether skyrocketing fuel prices have affected how much the department can take the Argus out.

“Not yet,” Gulas replies, noting that last year, the fuel budget for the Marine Patrol was $6,000, all of which was spent, and this year’s is $9,000, all of which Gulas anticipates will be spent.

The Rocky River Police Department’s Marine Patrol is funded through a matching program, where the state of Ohio gives the department a grant, which is then matched by the city. This year the Marine Patrol received a $27,000 grant from the state. Funding is determined by usage, which the state evaluates in the form of the reports the patrol submits to the state for every shift it takes.

Gulas explains this to me, and then shows me the equipment on the boat, saying that it has everything a police car has in terms of communications equipment, including a patrol MDT (mobile data terminal) for checking information on boaters. The boat also has lights and a siren, as well as a special removable recovery hatch to better haul people aboard. 

10:19 a.m.
Photographer Larry Bennet has arrived, and Gulas and Bernhardt are finished with preparations. Gulas eases the Argus away from the police dock and begins a cruise on the river. Despite the weather being pleasantly mild with no wind, boating activity is noticeably scant. Gulas remarks that with ever-escalating fuel prices, there haven’t been as many boats out on the water this summer. There has, however, been an increase in kayakers, several of whom we observe as the Argus continues to move down the river.

10:35 a.m.
Gulas steers the Argus out the mouth of the river toward the lake. The Marine Patrol, he explains, operates from 10-10 on weekends. These 12 hours are broken up into shifts from between 10-3 and 3-10. Weekdays, the boat is generally out from 4 p.m. to 10 p.m. The Argus is also available 24 hours a day, seven days a week in case of emergencies. The Marine Patrol has frequently assisted in search and rescue efforts, and did so for the U.S. Coast Guard 27 times last year.

Bernhardt speaks to a pair of kayakers.

10:55 a.m.
We’re out on the lake now, heading west, when Gulas gets a report of fishers on Bradstreet’s Landing complaining about two kayakers who passed beneath the pier. Gulas turns the Argus around and points it in the direction of Bradstreet’s Landing. The calm waters make the ride reasonably smooth, although I still find myself clutching a guardrail with one hand and feebly scribbling notes with the other.

We get to the pier, but there are no kayakers in sight. Gulas is then informed that they are further west, and he again turns the Argus around. This time, Gulas and Bernhardt spot a man and a woman paddling kayaks along the shoreline. Gulas cuts the speed and Bernhardt moves to the bow of the ship and hails the kayakers, who paddle over. Bernhardt explains that they had received a complaint about someone paddling beneath the pier. The man and woman admit to doing so and apologize, and are soon on their way, as are we.

11:08 a.m.
We’re cruising along past Huntington Beach, where Bernhardt says the patrol mainly makes sure that jet skis and boats don’t come too close to the shore. Bernhardt, who wears reflective sunglasses and a Marine Patrol baseball cap, tells me that he’s had a love of the water since his childhood, when his father would take the family on a boat out of Port Clinton and traverse the Lake Erie islands.

“Better than driving around in a police car,” Bernhardt says of the Marine Patrol.

11:21 a.m.
Gulas has turned the Argus around (the patrol’s western border is Avon Point) and taken it east toward Edgewater Park. Off the port side, four kayakers are clustered together, and two appear to have turned over. Gulas brings the Argus over, but the kayakers explain that they are practicing getting back into the kayak after it has rolled over, and with that we are underway once more.

Bernhardt writes down something on a piece of paper and puts it inside a cabinet. He explains to me that every time the patrol makes contact with someone, it is noted and included with reports kept both with the police department and the state.

We pass an odd-looking structure, painted blue and brown, hanging off the side of the shoreline. Gulas relates a story that the structure was built in the 1950s by a man who wanted to play poker with friends but also keep his disapproving wife away. Her fear of heights led him to build this structure to play cards in. Today, it looks rather tired, even from the distance we’re viewing it at. “It’s seen better days,” Gulas remarks.

11:32 a.m.
We’ve reached the eastern edge of the Argus’ patrol area. The omnipresent clouds shroud the Cleveland skyline in an eerie haze. This, combined with the calm water and relative lack of boating activity on the lake, makes for a disquieting effect. Gulas turns the Argus around and points it back home.

11:43 a.m.
Bernhardt moves to the bow of the ship, looking out at the water. Sensing a good photo op, Larry tells me to get Bernhardt’s attention to make for a better shot. Before I can do so, however, the rushing wind caused by the boat’s motion snatches Bernhardt’s baseball cap off his head and plunks it into the water.

“Man overboard,” he jokes, as Gulas turns the Argus around. Within minutes, the officers locate and retrieve the wayward headgear, and we resume our homeward journey.

11:45 a.m.
We pass the quartet of kayakers we saw previously, this time off our starboard side. All four are in their kayaks.

11:56 a.m.
Gulas and Bernhardt dock the Argus at a rusty barge in order to conduct some boat inspections. Boater education is a large part of what the Marine Patrol does, Gulas explains. Vessels are checked for items such as flares, fire extinguisher(s), distress signals, ventilation and more. A logbook is kept for every boat inspected, so that the patrol knows if they’ve warned a boater previously about an infraction. Last year, the Marine Patrol performed more than 500 inspections.

12:40 p.m.
Gulas and Bernhardt perform their second boat inspection of the day. The first, a small, purple-ish colored vessel, had three infractions, but was heading back to the dock and was given a warning. The second contains a family of six, and this boat passes the inspection. Gulas gives the owner a decal to display indicating the boat’s passage, and also gives a red whistle to the boat’s youngest passenger, a shy boy who soon begins tooting his whistle as he and his family get underway once more.

12:52 p.m.
This is where Larry and I get off. Later I will learn that Gulas and Bernhardt went to the aid of some capsized boaters just hours after Larry and I left. But for now, Larry and I say our goodbyes, ending my (nearly) three-hour tour with the Marine Patrol.