I made a passing reference to my experience with a Mayday call in my thread on Sailing Lessons and there were some interest for the details.In April, myself and three other students were on a Cruise and Learn week-long course on the west coast of Canada. We were in a new 34 Catalina with an excellent instructor. During the course of the week we had enjoyed days of sailing, "book learning" and social activites in and about the Gulf Islands. As the wind warnings were increasing daily, our instructor decided to move from the island side to the mainland side so we would be closer to homebase as we approached the final two days of our week. In the late afternoon we were doing our practical application of the Man overboard drill - each of us taking turns at the helm while the instructor tossed a fender overboard to watch our reaction. I went below deck to change gloves when I heard a Mayday call on the radio. I passed that info on to the Instructor who immediately registered receipt of the call and plotted that the call had come from the BC Ferry dock on a small island adjacent to us about 1/2 mile to starboard.The instructor responded to the Dockmaster (source of the Mayday) that we were a recreational sailboat offshore and were ready to assist. The announcement called for general assistance as a truck had driven off the end of the dock shortly after a ferry had discharged its passenger. Note: the island in question was a small island home to about 20 or 30 families. The ferry was a regularly scheduled service to the island and had just dropped passengers and a few cars onto the island.Apparently, a man and his 3 year old son had driven their pickup truck to the terminal to retreive the Mom who had been on the mainland grocery shopping. The Mom and Dad were loading the parcels into the back of the pickup when apparently the little boy turned the key in the ignition and launched the standard transimission vehicle over the wooden parking curb, rolling it down a short distance to the point where it fell off the end of the dock and into 60 feet of water. The dock master immediately sent out a Mayday for assistance while the Dad dove into the water in an attempt to reach the vehicle.As it turns out, we were the frirst boat to respond to the call. Our instructor had interviewed us at the start of the courcse days earlier and was able to report that we were able to respond with three certified divers (sadly with no dive equipment onboard) a registered Nurse (one of the cruise and learn students) and two others with Lifesaving and CPR certification (the instructor and a flight attendant).Within seconds of passing along that info, the BC Ferry that had just disimbarked responded that they were turning around and had three Firemen, a diver and a Paramedic onboard in addition to the Ferry Crew. The Dockmaster announced that a local boater was responding to the Ferry to pick-up the Firemen. In addition, the radio began to crackle with responses from other boaters as well as the Canadian Coast Gaurd that had dispatched the Hoovercraft from Gibsons and the Rescue Helicopter from Vancouver which was in the area doing crew drills. The Hovercraft announced that they were four minutes out, which suprised us as we couild not see it anywhere or any indication of its emminent arrival.Within a minute or so we saw the Hoover Craft approaching off our Port. The skipper of the Hoovercraft had it wide open. We watched as the craft approached at an amaizing rate of speed with clear daylight between the bottom of the craft and the water. At the same instant, off our starboard side the Coast Gaurd helicopter arrived on site, it too having likely exceeded its normal airspeed limits. The Hoover craft slid sideways between our boat and the end of the dock and dropped two divers over the side the instant it came to a stop. The helicopter landed in the parking lot of the terminal.At that point we were advised to stand down and clear the area. We dropped our sails (that had been luffing for the four or five minutes all of the above was happening) and motored away from the accident scene, holding a position about a mile off shore in the event that we were required to provide any witness account, etc.We were caught in that no-mans-land of wanting to stay ontop of the scene in the event that were somehow required, yet wanting to leave so as not to add to the confusion and congestion as more and more local boats were arriving to offer assitance or "watch".Likely 20 minutes later - At the Dock masters indication that the emergancy was over and the Mayday was concluded (confirmed by and announcement by the Coast Gaurd), we motored quietly away to our anchorage a few short miles along the coast. We found out some of the details later that night via news reports on the commercial radio stations that the little boy was flown to a Vancouver Hospital but sadly pronounced dead on arrival. The Father, who had exhausted himself trying repeatedly to get down to the truck (including holding onto an old ornamental anchor that had been passed down to him off the end of the dock by bystanders so as to try to get down to the truck faster) had suffered hypothermia and (I belive this is correct) cardiac arrest once pulled from the water (I can't attest to the accuracy of that).It was a jolt for all of the four cruise and learn students on the boat, but a lifelong lesson in how the captain of your vessel is always on duty and may be called upon to take charge of a situation at anytime as well as the value of knowing who is onboard and what they may offer by way of other skills. While we didn't participate in the recovery, I believe it was an experience that all five onboard our little sailboat will never forget.For the Mom and Dad who are approaching their first Christmas without their little boy - our thoughts and prayers.Richard