[CW] Ode to the Radio Officer

[Jude DaShiell]

So long as satellites remain unmolested Radio Officer can remain a
retired profession.  In the event satellites start getting regularly
shot down, Radio Officers will be in high demand.

On Fri, 27 Nov 2020, D.J.J. Ring, Jr. wrote:

> Date: Fri, 27 Nov 2020 10:22:04
> From: "D.J.J. Ring, Jr." <n1ea at arrl.net>
> Reply-To: CW Reflector <cw at mailman.qth.net>
> To: CW Reflector <cw at mailman.qth.net>
> Subject: [CW] Ode to the Radio Officer
>
> Ode to the Radio Officer.
>
> The call of the sea, the lure of the key,
> Are stronger by far than mere fashion;
> They?ll turn a young head, they?ll stop a chap dead,
> And inspire in his heart a real passion.
>
> Lads leave their mums, their girlfriends and wives,
> Their loved ones and even test cricket,
> Then study and starve and sweat and cram
> All for a PMG ticket.
>
> Hours every day of dit-dit-dit-dah
> Of Regs and of Radio Theory;
> Dozens of Q codes to learn off by heart
> Will make one unutterably weary.
>
> Pi circuits, tank circuits, tuned circuits too,
> The embryo Sparks learns the lot;
> Inductive reactance, Henrys and ohms,
> His life is now just one long swat.
>
> Anodes and cathodes, triodes and grids,
> Valves of all colours and sizes;
> Negative feedback must be applied
> Or rogue oscillation arises.
>
> Collectors, emitters, electrons and holes,
> Capacitors, chokes and resistors;
> Resonant frequency, lead acid cells,
> And hundreds of other tongue-twisters.
>
> Two years and more of blood, sweat and tears
> And then the exams must be passed.
> The diligent few will cheer with the news ?
> ?Finished with college at last!?
>
> It?s off to the tailor for one wavy stripe,
> Join Marconi or IMRC,
> Or CP Ships freelance with Redifon gear,
> As long as it gets you to sea.
>
> First day on board, time to sign on,
> But what?s this you hear the Mate saying?
> ?Address shipping agent as ?Worshipful Sir?,
> And tell him you hope to be staying.?
>
> Everyone?s chuckling, your leg has been pulled,
> You?re filled with despair and with gloom
> As you?re told to move into your cabin,
> Down below - in the engine room.
>
> What a relief ? they were winding you up,
> A privilege afforded to Newbies;
> No prizes for falling for this, youthful Sparks,
> Except those awarded to boobies!
>
> Up to the bridge deck, your cabin?s right there,
> Off the wing bridge and next to the Chart Room.
> Drop your bags, fix your tie, square your shoulders old chap,
> Dispel all those feelings of gloom.
>
> Go find your chief, report in to base,
> Look in the radio room first.
> There he is, straighten up, pull in your chin,
> And prepare yourself now for the worst.
>
> The Chief R/O?s a curmudgeonly sort,
> But cheers up when you buy him a beer.
> Then regales you with tales of the hardships to come
> Pursuing your chosen career.
>
> The pilot?s aboard, the agent?s ashore,
> It?s time that we put out to sea.
> So single up now, fore and aft, on the deck
> Let?s get away from the quay.
>
> Here come the tugs - sound the horn, toss a line;
> Ding-ding-ding ?Slow Ahead Both!?
> Engine vibrations and creaking bulkheads,
> Creep ahead like a maritime sloth.
>
> We?re clear of the heads, the pilot?s away,
> The ship?s beginning to roll.
> ?Full ahead both!? the telegraph sings,
> As you sit there, your head in a bowl.
>
> Mal-de-mar and dizziness, the first-timer?s lot;
> Nothing?s where it?s always been,
> They call the floor the deck round here,
> And the deck is beginning to lean!
>
> The walls are called bulkheads, the windows are ports,
> Say deckhead for ceiling these days;
> Left for port, right for starboard, confusing indeed!
> And yet you will learn every phrase.
>
> Soon feeling better, now take your first watch,
> Repair to the radio room.
> Your first QSO scares you halfway to death
> You?re nervous with visions of doom.
>
> But two years of training now pay off in spades,
> You?re pounding the key with a smile.
> GNF?s signals are easy to read,
> Your TR goes off in grand style.
>
> This first trip soon settles into rhythm with ease,
> MSG?s, OBS and TR?s;
> Silence periods, log books, the officer?s mess,
> Time ashore in those shady-type bars.
>
> Your first furlough?s here in double-quick time,
> You home town seems to have shrunk.
> How boring the old haunts and pals that you knew,
> Nothing to do but get drunk.
>
> Back to sea is the obvious choice,
> Travel, adventure, new chums;
> Key-bashing is fun as well you will find,
> Better than twiddling your thumbs!
>
> And so the years roll quickly by,
> With trips to far countries and near,
> With all kinds of crews, on different ships
> With all sorts of radio gear.
>
> Panama, Rio, Malta, New York,
> Rotterdam, Capetown, Shanghai;
> Sydney, Hong Kong, Hamburg, Quebec,
> Durban, Auckland, Dubai.
>
> And all those coast stations worked on the key!
> PCH, DAN, ZSC,
> VIA, VCS, KPH, GLD,
> VPS, GPK, ZLB.
>
> EJM, DHS, ZSB, GNF,
> J2A, VIS, OST,
> GKA, GKZ, VIM, FFB,
> VID, EJK, ZSD.*
>
> But they don?t need you now, you?re yesterday?s news,
> A satellite?s taken your place.
> The Radio Officer?s day is all done,
> He simply takes up too much space!
>
> A hundred years of service gone,
> We are the last ones left;
> All put out to pasture now,
> The world of Sparks bereft.
>
> A dwindling band of brothers we,
> Less each passing year;
> No junior sparks are coming in,
> It is the end, I fear.
>
> But be proud to have been in the ranks of the few,
> The Sparks were such marvellous men;
> They earned their own place in the lore of the sea,
> You?ll not see their like e?er again.
>
> Our club is exclusive, the membership?s closed;
> We alone carry the flame.
> Hold your heads high, my fellow Sparks,
> Your name?s in the sea?s Hall of Fame.
>
> My story?s done, the tale?s been told,
> The word?s spread near and far.
> Of men at sea in green and gold -
> So dit-dit-dit-dah-dit-dah! **
>
> Dave Ellis,
> G4AJY and M0ROA,
> April 2010.
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> =30=

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