[NJARC] Ode to an Boatanchor Poet

[Steve Ireland]

The last letter of his callsign is surely an 'S' not an 'I'.

And no longer will he be Waqi, but Will.

For it seems to me, that "K2 William Shakespeare"

Has taken up his quill.



Those rhymes are just flowing off Waqi's pen,

Faster than the dots from his keyer 

While Will the First is turning in his grave,

And wishing this young punk would disap-pear.



Will in his coffin suddenly has a brainwave,

As his thoughts drift up through the ether.

If Waqi thought to take his crown for good verse away,

Then Will would become a CW op - without even using a keyer...


One night down on 7026,

Waqi was chasing a seven X four-a

When a fluttery G signal got in first

Signing "G3 Whisky Sierr-a".


>From that day forth, when DX was about,

and pursued hard by Waqi,  

the ghostly G signal was always there first

His dits and dahs a-clacky.


Many months later, the battle still goes on,

And the role-reversal has taken its toll.

Poor Waqi bites his nails writing poetry,

While "G3 William Shakespeare" sits atop the Honour Roll.











At 08:41 AM 21/03/2004 -0500, you wrote:
>I wrote this this morning after my 40m QSO with Steve Ireland, VK6VZ, a
>fellow AR-88 owner.
>Rob Flory K2 Wacky Iraqi
>
>Sit down and I'll tell you the story about
>the day puny Waqi did get out.
>
>Twas 5 in the morning on March twenty-one,
>Ric in Sydney gave me a puny "S" one.
>
>I said, "I'll never make it to Perth",
>Unless I push these Drakes for all they are worth".
>
>I looked around the shack, and what did I see,
>A pair of 811s looking at me.
>
>I've got 40 minutes, until the big sked,
>So I grabbed some cables, and scratched my head.
>
>A relay, some coax.... I scurried about,
>Receiver in, relay, amplifier out...
>
>Back off on the drive, throw the ptt switch,
>The Bird Wattmeter started to twitch.
>
>50,100,200 and more...
>The watts they started to pour.
>
>I drove that suckah right to the peg,
>My cuppa joe was full of dregs.
>
>2 minutes to go, I'm all QRV
>I run up for another cup of coffee.
>
>When I get back down in front of the station,
>I hear dahs and a final optimization.
>
>K2WI DE VK6VZed
>from way down under into my head.
>
>VK6VZ de K2WI
>I fired back my potent reply.
>
>A 449 was all that I got,
>But Steve was hearing every dot.
>
>Ten minutes later, I had hit R5,
>My TBW I turned alive.
>
>I lept from my chair with a coax in hand,
>To put my "Pumper-Thumper" onto the band.
>
>The mercury vapor it did glow,
>When the B+ switch I did throw.
>
>I hit the key and the relay did thump,
>2 Amps RF current started to pump.
>
>"Rob it's so cool, your 559",
>We've got us a virtual RF pipeline.
>
>I told my mate Steve to please take a wait,
>While put an antenna on my AR-88.
>
>A fifteen meter ground plane might do the trick,
>an old military, fibreglass stick.
>
>I pulled off my headphones, grabbed the AF gain knob,
>"Can you hear me on your RCA, Rob?"
>
>"Sure, Mate", was my immediate answer,
>"You're 559, and you're on the speaker!"
>
>The clock now said Eleven-Thirty,
>My sun was up, and the dishes dirty.
>
>"G'day Mate", I said to my antipodal friend,
>And so our QSO did end.
>
>And there ends the story about,
>The day Mighty Waqi did get out.
>
>
>
>