Phone Recovered from Geneva Lake in Williams Bay, WI
A Daughter’s Phone Takes a Swim
It was a Saturday evening, September 5, 2026, when the call came about a phone dropped in the lake. Ryan was anchored outside of the swimming area at Williams Bay Beach on Geneva Lake. Family and friends were enjoying a perfect day on the water with jet skis, blue skies, and good company when his daughter’s phone went overboard. The oft-repeated mistake of wrapping a valuable item in a towel and then promptly forgetting about it led to the phone taking a swim. 
“How deep are you anchored?” I asked.
Ryan’s depth gauge read 10.4 feet. I explained that my maximum depth is 10 feet, but I told him I would be willing to give it a try. He was securely anchored, so although drift would be minimal, the conditions underwater might prove to be challenging.
After a short jet ski ride to their boat, I donned my flippers and breathing apparatus and sank to the bottom. Would I be able to reach the lake bed?
The water was clear, but significant seaweed obscured my vision. Once I sank far enough, I was encouraged when I touched the bottom, though I soon realized the real bottom lay another foot deeper beneath silty sediment. Perhaps the cell phone rested on top of the vegetation, and I would not even need to use my metal detector. After a cursory swim around the boat and a little extra time on the port side, I popped up for a breather. Ryan and I chatted a bit, and he felt that searching the stern area in an arc would be the best approach.

I again sank to the bottom and started scanning. It was quiet. That was good. I felt that if I heard anything, it would be the phone. It wasn’t long before I heard a high-pitched screaming tone… the sound my machine makes over a cell phone. I rescanned the area, and when I reached down into the loose vegetation, I felt the rectangular shape I was hoping for. The pink case greeted me first. When I flipped it over, the screen flashed on. Success!
If you or someone you know has lost a phone, ring, or piece of jewelry, please call. The smiles I enjoy when returning lost items are one of the best parts of what I do.


This was also the first place she looked, along with her planting beds along her porch and walkway. The plastic pot had a metal hanger, so together we unbent the hanger and set it aside. I took out my pinpointer (picture a small metal detector, the size, shape, and color of a carrot), which I had explained and demonstrated to her earlier.








three young daughters, sitting in the shallow water, probably keeping her sharp, motherly eyes on each of them. Pushing off the rocky bottom of the lake to stand up, she felt the ring slip, release, and disappear. Carefully padding the lake bottom with a flat hand, only gritty sand and small rocks pushed back. Her ring was gone.

d, another detectorist was in the water. I waded out to Tony and asked the same question. “No, only a quarter so far.”

Caleb’s final text read: