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Wave of Grief Hits Waterfront

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TIMES STAFF WRITER

Their wraparound sunglasses and dark tans couldn’t hide the pain Saturday for commercial fishermen and boaters in Newport Beach whose friend was lost at sea.

Ken Philipps, a 32-year-old boat skipper and a familiar face on the waterfront, disappeared a week ago during a routine run from Balboa Peninsula to Catalina Island. The U.S. Coast Guard announced it was halting its search for Philipps, forcing friends to come to grips with the possibility that one of their own was gone.

“It’s taken just a little bit out of me. My love for the ocean is just a bit less,” said Mike Perrin, 36, as he watched beachgoers pass in front of his commercial diving business. “It’s just overwhelmed us.”

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Perrin is part of the close-knit community along Balboa Boulevard that has been anxiously waiting all week for news about Philipps, last seen Easter Sunday morning leaving the harbor on his 38-foot wooden boat, the Nancy L, amid foul weather.

He had arranged to meet some other boats at Catalina Island for a few days of squid fishing. But he never got there.

On Wednesday, worried friends reported him missing to the U.S. Coast Guard, which launched an intensive search by plane, helicopter and boat.

Friday evening, after a search over 18,000 square miles of ocean extending from Point Dume to Ensenada, Mexico, officials called off the effort.

The Coast Guard officials said the search was hampered because they were notified of the disappearance three days after he was last seen.

“We were behind the 8-ball from the beginning,” said U.S. Coast Guard Lt. Dwayne Mekins.

Friends said they waited before notifying the Coast Guard because of a mix-up over Philipps’ whereabouts early in the week.

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“Over there [in Catalina], they thought he was here,” Perrin said. “Here, we thought he was there.”

It was not unusual for Philipps to be gone for several days at a time on fishing trips, his friends said. It was unusual, however, that he hadn’t called in.

Philipps carried two cellular phones, a pager and three shortwave radios aboard his boat.

“He’d call in here several times a day just to say hi,” Perrin said.

Friends tried to contact him to no avail. Cellular phone records show no calls made from Philipps’ phone after Sunday morning.

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Mild worry earlier in the week has become full-blown grief among those who make their living on the water, Perrin said.

“It’s gone from concern to tragedy,” he said.

Now Perrin and others are struggling to find closure, an elusive concept when a beloved member of a small community disappears without a trace, swallowed up by the vastness of the ocean.

“You want to bury him, or at least see something,” said Andy Dustin, 36, who co-owns the diving business with Perrin.

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Philipps disappeared somewhere in the San Pedro Channel, where heavy seas and high winds are common. Friends strongly dismiss the notion that Philipps might have just taken off on his own accord to start a new life elsewhere. “He was too considerate for that,” Perrin said.

The tragedy underscores the risks skippers work under every day, Perrin said. “The ocean is weight in motion,” he said. “It’s an unforgiving element.”

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But Philipps was well aware of the risks and challenges of his profession, friends said.

More than a decade ago, he came to Newport Beach from Wisconsin with dreams of skippering his own boat some day.

He started out behind the counter in the Tackle Shop at Davey’s Locker in the Balboa Pavilion. He worked his way up to become a deckhand on one of the business’ sportfishing boats. Finally, he got his captain’s license and bought a boat of his own, according to friends.

Since then, he worked as a skipper for one of the sportfishing boats at Davey’s Locker and also spent time piloting the Nancy L, fishing commercially and operating high-powered lights from his boat for squid fishermen. The lights draw squid to the surface, then fishing nets are brought in to scoop up the squid.

The disappearance has stirred strong emotions in the fraternity of fishermen on Balboa Peninsula.

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“Who’s tougher than [a] fisherman?” Perrin said. “Take a roomful of fishermen, and they could take on a hockey team.”

But tears have flowed among many in the last week, he said.

Philipps’ friends say they are holding onto the hope that he might still be alive, working to save himself in the professional and meticulous manner that was his trademark on the water.

“We keep hoping,” Dustin said. “I’ve heard stories of people lost at sea 20 or 30 days and they’ve [been] found. . . . You never know.”

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