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It was a quiet day on Flushing Bay. Robert Von Ancken and his brother Hank were fishing in their 14-foot runabout. They had bought the boat from Sears with hard-earned money delivering the Long Island Star-Journal and doing odd jobs in the neighborhood.
They spied a cabin cruiser racing across the water. It was still a distance off, but the boys could have sworn that it was heading in their direction. They figured that whoever was piloting the boat would spot them as they got closer.
The distance between the two craft narrowed. The boys' instincts were on the mark; the boat was bearing down on them. They started their boat's engine to move out of the way. But a runabout is no match for such a large boat. They decided that their only alternative was to abandon ship.
They dove into the water and swam toward the bottom of the bay for fear of being bashed by the boat or ground up into chum by its propeller.
They swam back to the surface and did not see their boat. It had been smashed to smithereens; pieces floating around them.
Two other boats behind the cruiser stopped to pick up the boys. They were brought to a dock where they called police. The owner of the cruiser said the boys' imagination had gotten the better of them; he had not hit any boat, let alone theirs.
One problem with his story, the runabout's small motor was sticking out of the bow of his boat.
Boys being...