WARNER THOMPSON, commander of Itasca, had spent the last three days piecing together the various reports of signals heard across the Pacific. He had followed up on these reports by ordering the cutter to search hundreds of miles of ocean. But Itasca had found nothing.

Now, on the morning of July 5, the navy radio station in Wailupe reported hearing a Morse code signal from Earhart, giving her position as 281 miles north of Howland Island. (Officials were still unaware that the Morse code sending key had been removed from the Electra.) Thompson immediately ordered the ship to steam to this previously unsearched location. He calculated they would arrive at “281 north” by nightfall.

Just before nine p.m., two lookouts on the deck saw “a distinct flare” arc up into the night sky. In the radio room, Leo Bellarts immediately sent a voice message on 3105: “EARHART FROM ITASCA. DID YOU SEND UP A FLARE? SEND UP ANOTHER IDENTIFICATION.”

Seconds afterward, wrote Commander Thompson in a later report, “another green light appeared (25 witnesses).”

Bellarts sent another message: “EARHART FROM ITASCA. WE SEE YOUR FLARES AND ARE PROCEEDING TOWARD YOU.”

A nearby naval radioman picked up on Bellarts’s transmissions and forwarded the information to other commands. Soon the Hawaiian coast guard station was informing the San Francisco station, “Itasca sighted flares and proceeding toward them.”

But at 281 north Howland, the sky and airwaves had fallen silent. The cutter steamed at reduced speed, sweeping and flashing its searchlights, hoping for some sign of a floating plane or a raft. They saw nothing.

By ten p.m., Commander Thompson began to believe that he had not seen flares after all. “It was a mistake, and the signals seen were probably heat lightning.”

But it was too late to take back the news. The next morning, the New York Herald-Tribune headline blared: “Earhart Flares Sighted by Cutter.” Other news outlets picked up the story, and soon, people across the world waited for the exciting details of Amelia’s rescue. “We are anxious to see pictures of the search and rescue,” one reporter wired Commander Thompson.

While Itasca continued to search the area, coast guard officials tried to clear up the night’s confusion. “Reports were in error,” they said over and over again. The entire event had turned into a national embarrassment for the coast guard.

On the evening of July 5, Commander Thompson and Itasca were relieved of their leading role in the Earhart search. The rescue now rested in the hands of the U.S. Navy.