A will to live and teamwork helped two young pilots survive a night in choppy ocean waters last month after ditching their twin-engine Piper Apache plane off the coast of Kona.

Both Sydnie Uemoto, 23, and David McMahon, 26, said they would not have survived the ordeal had it not been for each other’s support as they swam for miles toward Hawaii island before a Coast Guard helicopter rescued them about 1-1/2 miles offshore, 6 miles northwest of Kona Airport.

The pilots — both first officers at Mokulele Airlines — had not met before their flight from Kalaeloa to Kona on July 14. After the rescue, both stayed at Kona Community Hospital overnight and were treated for dehydration and hypothermia. Both plan to return to work in mid-August.

Uemoto was on her way back home to Kealakekua to celebrate her father’s birthday. Her father turned 60 the day they were forced to ditch the aircraft after the engine stopped.

While flying at 5,500 feet, the engine rattled and ran rough. They slowly descended and leveled off at 3,500 feet. While leveling off, between Kahoolawe and Kona, the plane resumed running smoothly. Shortly thereafter the right engine suddenly stopped running, McMahon said.

A few minutes later the left engine stopped.

Shortly before 3:15 p.m. McMahon reported to radio communications that they had no power and were going down. Their last known location before they disappeared from the radar was 25 miles northwest of Kona Airport.

“We were just dropping fast,” he said during an interview Tuesday at his father’s Kailua home. “It was just like a fast glide down.”

About 1,000 feet from the ocean’s surface, McMahon told Uemoto to take over the controls while he opened the plane door on his side to prepare for their quick exit.

Uemoto said, “I kind of just imagined the runway on the water and tried to land it as smoothly as I could.”

The impact caused Uemoto to strike her face against the dashboard, fracturing her nose. The aircraft remained intact, and she found life vests behind the seats.

The pilots recalled that their exit from the plane seemed to simultaneously play out in slow motion and at a rapid pace. “Water was coming in. David was already on the wing, and he was telling me we gotta get out,” said Uemoto.

They inflated their life vests and jumped into the water. McMahon said, “At that point the whole cabin was underwater. It was just the tail kind of sticking up because it was going nose first. And then the plane sank within a minute or two. It was gone.”

McMahon described his vest as old, as he was forced to use his fingers to plug up holes to keep it inflated.

Two hours passed before they saw the first search and rescue aircraft. “It got close but never saw us,” said McMahon. Thereafter, multiple planes and helicopters flew nearby, but still they were not spotted. “The glare was high on the water,” he said.

Eventually, McMahon told Uemoto they needed to start swimming toward land because waves were pushing them south. She recalled how McMahon constantly kept blowing air into her life vest to help keep her head above water because one side of her life vest was deflating.

Uemoto suffered tremors after jellyfish stings and drifted in and out of consciousness. When her legs started cramping, McMahon locked his arms around them as he continued to kick while she used her arms to stroke toward land.

At nightfall they spotted a red beacon coming from Hawaii island and used it as a focal point for their swimming through the night.

At one point, McMahon said, he saw a 7-foot, dark-gray shark. It circled them for about 10 minutes. McMahon said the shark was calm and got as close as 15 to 20 feet before it swam away.

The pilots consoled each other throughout the night when doubt filled their minds as to whether they would be rescued. Ultimately, their “will to live” pushed them along, said Uemoto.

At sunrise they could see the shoreline. “It gave us a second wave (of energy),” he said.

A bit later they saw a Blue Hawaiian tour helicopter followed by a Coast Guard helicopter approaching and circling above them. A crew member holding the rescue helicopter door open waved from above.

“I started crying and thanked David for all his help that night,” Uemoto said.