Soap Opera on the Marine Party Line

The examiner signed a card and handed it to me. It was a Canadian Radio Operator’s Certificate—Marine. “Congratulations,” she said. “You passed the test. Now you can broadcast legally on all the marine frequencies.”

“What do you do if someone broadcasts on the marine channels without passing the test.”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? You mean I don’t need this certificate?”

“Well, yes, you need the certificate. Otherwise you’d be transmitting illegally. But we don’t have money for enforcement. We’re a totally self-funding government agency. We get our only income from testing people and issuing them operator’s certificates.”

“So who does enforce the regulations?”

“No one.”

“Oh.”

The original marine radio regulations were written with the Titanic in mind. A lot of water has flowed out to sea since then.

Certain radio frequencies are restricted to marine use, marine use being defined essentially as: if at least one of the parties to a conversation is on a boat, and both parties are talking about boat stuff, that’s marine use.

Three decades ago, when Maruba was cruising among the islands of British Columbia, the indigenous people living there had come up with a better idea. They used the short range VHF marine frequencies as a community party line.

BC Tel had also co-opted several VHF frequencies to create an actual telephone service. We could call the marine operator, give her a telephone number anywhere in the world, and she would patch us into the land based telephone system.

Thus BC Tel further enriched the lives of the local people. Now they could not only pass news and gossip among themselves up and down the coast, they could also listen in on calls broadcast from boats visiting the area.

Sometime eavesdropping was quite rewarding. And it could get downright intriguing when the person placing a call asked the marine operator for privacy. Subsequently the caller’s words came through only as bzz bzz bzz. But anyone listening in could hear everything the answering party said.

The one sided conversations were sometimes operatic—as in soap opera.

One Sunday morning Barbara and I were trying to call Alberta. The channels were busy, so we had to pay close attention and try to catch the operator’s attention when another party signed off. We overheard the following conversation.

“This is the BC Tel marine operator. How may I help you?”

“Good morning, operator. This is the trawler Good Fortune. I’d like privacy please . . . Buzz buzz buzz.”

“Your call is ringing, Good Fortune.”

“Hullo?”

Buzz buzz buzz.

“Oh hi, honey. Gee it’s great to hear your voice. How’s the fishing been?”

Buzz buzz buzz.

“Gee, that’s too bad. How are you getting along with your new captain?”

Buzz buzz buzz. Buzz buzz buzz. Buzz buzz buzz.

“It doesn’t sound like you’re having a great trip.”

Buzz buzz buzz. Buzz buzz buzz.

Yeh, I know how you feel. I’m feeling that way too.”

Buzz buzz.

“Honey, you know I don’t like to talk about that stuff over the radio. Anyone could be listening in. Let’s just say I love you and I really, really, really miss you too, okay?”

Buzz buzz buzz.

“I’m just waking up. We went to Curly’s Bar last night.”

Buzz buzz buzz.

“Oh, you know, just Marcy and me. We just had a couple of drinks and left.”

Buzz buzz buzz.

“Well, yeah, we danced a little too.”

Buzz buzz buzz.

“Well, no. Marcie met some guy. She left with him.”

Buzz buzz buzz.

“Oh no. I left early and went home alone.”

Buzz buzz buzz.

“Well, yes, he was there too. You know he hangs out there a lot.”

Buzz buzz buzz. Buzz buzz buzz.

(“Don’t answer any more questions sweetheart.” Barbara was speaking towards the radio, wishing the girl could hear her warning. “You’ve told him too much already.”)

“Of course I didn’t. You know better than that.”

Buzz buzz buzz. Buzz buzz buzz. Buzz buzz buzz.

“Please don’t be that way, honey. You know I love you and can hardly wait for you to get back.”

Buzz buzz buzz. Buzz buzz buzz . . .

“Hello, sir. Is your call finished?”

Buzz buzz buzz.

“BC Tel marine service clear on . . .”

This time I caught the operator before another caller could check in. We asked her to dial daughter Kate.

During the call Kate announced, in her usual forthright manner, that she was getting married in September.

“You haven’t met him. His name Is John and he’s six foot six. Don’t worry, I’m getting married because I want to, not because I have to. I’m not pregnant.”

“Well, Kate, that wasn’t the first thing that came to mind when you said you were getting married. But I am pleased to hear that nothing precipitous is happening. Anyway, we’re happy for you and we’re looking forward to meeting John.”

The next day we tied Maruba to the community dock at Bella Bella. At the checkout counter in the supermarket, Barbara chatted with the clerk.

“We phoned our daughter in Alberta yesterday. She had big news. She’s getting married in September.”

“That is big news. She really sounded happy when she told you about it. And just imagine, he’s six foot six.

“But you know, around here we don’t think that getting pregnant is any reason for a girl to get married.”