First cockpit-to-Cuba broadcast urges resistance unity

Published Sunday, February 21, 1999, in the Miami Herald

First cockpit-to-Cuba broadcast urges resistance unity

By CAROL ROSENBERG
Herald Staff Writer

ABOARD CESSNA N2506, Over the Florida Straits -- co-pilot Guillermo Lares was at the controls Saturday when a satisfied Jose Basulto flashed a thumbs up and unplugged his in-flight telephone.

Mission accomplished, he declared, completing what he called his first-ever live cockpit-to-Cuba broadcast -- a plug for a pro-democracy pact between exiles and island dissidents passed along through a crackly, partly-jammed interview on Radio Marti.

It was perhaps the biggest benefit of Saturday's Brothers to the Rescue mission.

Four fliers in two twin-engine planes spent 4 1/2 hours searching the rocks and waters between Marathon and 15 miles from the Cuban coast. They racked up these results:

Zero rafters spotted on a calm, clear day.

One crackly cockpit broadcast live to Havana, via Radio Marti.

Three brief conversations with island ham radio operators, in which Basulto passed along an offshore weather report and the Brothers' greetings.

Several mentions of the Brothers in routine advisories to Havana's air traffic controller, this day, by happenstance, a woman whose crisp replies brought a sparkle to Basulto's eyes. ``I like her voice,'' he said.

Earlier in the day, just before their 9 a.m. takeoff, Lares led the group, standing in a circle, in their weekly prayer, ``Father, we are in your hands. . . . ''

Then they were off, two tiny airplanes no bigger than an old Volkswagen Bug with wings, bearing the airmen and three guests -- a Herald reporter and Spanish television crew, who asked to tag along ahead of Wednesday's third anniversary of the Brothers' deadly Feb. 24, 1996, mission. Cuban fighter jets killed four Brothers members that day.

``Seagull Beta,'' piloted by Brothers vice president William Schuss, 64, went first. His aircraft hugged the sea at 500 feet, searching for refugees, while Basulto, 58, and Lares, 32, soared higher -- so their twin-engine Cessna could send and receive radio transmissions.

While Basulto juggled a ham radio and telephone, and issued reports to his Coral Gables office, Lares piloted the aircraft and scanned the skies and sea.

``These days, we look both ways -- up and down,'' he said, a grim reference to the tragedy. ``Before, we just looked down.''