south of Dana Point on his Sport Fisher. We were several miles off shore running back towards DP when, while on top of a wave, I saw an orange flash just for a second and told my Dad to turn around. His first response was that it was probably nothing. He didn't want to bring in the all the fishing lines and the sun was going down so he wanted to get back to the harbor. I didn't let it go and he saw that I was serious and realized that I really thought that I had seen something so he turned around. We drug in all the lines and started looking. It took until the sun was down and almost dark when we saw them. It was four 17 or 18 year old kids on a 20 foot sailboat that had flipped over when the tiller had broke. Three of the kids were holding onto the sides of the upturned boat holding it stable so the forth could kneel on the bottom and wave a life jacket in the air. There wasn't another boat on the horizon and we were the last hope those kids had. It was late spring and the water was California cold, low 60's. By the time we got them on board, the girls, clad only in bathing suits (small bathing suits!) were already hypodermic. The boys had more meat so were a bit better off but they wouldn't have lasted the night either. We got a line on the boat and slowly pulled it upright and towed it back to the harbor. We got them warm in the cabin and full of hot coco and by the time we were back they could almost talk without their teeth chattering. My dad gave'em hell all the way home but they took it because they knew how lucky they had been. No telling where that boat would have ended up but where ever it did, it would have been kid-less.