Whiskey Oscar Mike and the Bear

In the cruising community boats are usually crewed by couples (most hetero, some same sex). A few are crewed by families with children. Occasionally a boat turns up with no one aboard except the person at the wheel.

People who sail alone are known as single-handers. Single-handers are different from the rest of us.

Take Dave, for instance.

We met Dave at an isolated anchorage on the Pacific side of Panama.

“When I started out,” Dave said, “I wasn’t sure I’d be able to slow down enough to enjoy cruising. I’ve always been a real Type A person. Go, go, go all the time.

“But I’ve become very laid back. Just to give you an example, in Costa Rica I rented a car and drove from one end of the country to the other.

“I saw it all: Liberia, Puntarenas, San Jose, and Golfito. I went to the Cloud Forest at Monteverde and to three national parks: Barra Honda, Palo Verde, and Volcan Poas. I relaxed, took life easy, and did the whole country . . . in only ten days.”

 I didn’t mention that we’d stayed at our first Costa Rican anchorage for six months.

Barbara brought up her favorite topic. “Do you have any books to trade?”

“Well, maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“I have some books to swap. But I won’t trade them for books written by women. I never read books written by women.”

“Oh,” Barbara said. “I see.”

(Dave had no idea how dangerously thin that ice was.)

Dave and Shelley try to talk

Dave asked, “Do you happen to have an account with Whiskey Oscar Mike? I’d like to call my girlfriend in Los Angeles tonight, if you don’t mind. I’ll reimburse you for the charges, of course.”

WOM was the shortwave call sign of the AT&T High Seas Service. The service, now defunct, patched radio transmissions from boats into the international telephone network. The charge was $5 a minute, three minutes minimum.

(At the time, 1993, people who were paid minimum wage worked half a day to earn $15.)

When Dave came aboard that evening I powered up the radio.

“Whiskey Oscar Mike, Whiskey Oscar Mike, Whiskey Oscar Mike, this is Maruba. Over.”

“Good to hear from you, Maruba. Whiskey Oscar Mike.” The faint voice of the AT&T radio technician came through the static from New Jersey. “You haven’t called us for quite a while. Where are you?”

I reported our latitude and longitude.

“You’re still in Panama, I see. Give me a few seconds . . . Now our antenna is pointed right at you, Maruba. Do I sound better?”

“You’re still breaking up, Whiskey Oscar Mike. Any chance you can do better than that?”

“I’m afraid not, Maruba. The propagation is bad tonight. I’ll hand you over to the marine operator.”

“Good evening, Maruba,” said a dusky voice. “What can ah do fo you tonight?”

While the operator dialed the phone number, Dave fumbled with his ears. I hadn’t noticed he wore hearing aids.

“I couldn’t hear what she said,” he complained.

Another woman’s voice came on. “Hello?” I handed Dave the mic. To create a pretense of privacy, I joined Barbara three steps up in the pilot house.

The call did not go well. Not only was the propagation bad, Shelley in Los Angeles seemed to be speaking into a cordless phone, perhaps with weak batteries.

The two parties got tangled in their Overs. They often misinterpreted each other. The marine operator kept cutting in to repeat what Shelley had said. But Dave couldn’t understand her either.

This call is getting expensive, I thought. I went down and took the mic from Dave.

The Marine Operator and I team up

“Marine operator, this is the captain speaking.”

“Good evening, captain. These folks seem to be having problems tonight.”

“Yes they are, operator. Maybe you and I can help them out.

“Let’s try this. You repeat everything the lady says. I’ll make sure the party at this end understands, then I’ll repeat what he says.”

A four way conversation began.

I explained to Shelley that she was being invited to visit Dave in Panama.

“I’ll have to find out if I can get off work,” she said, with some hesitation. “When does he want me to come?”

“As I kept trying to tell her,” Dave said, “I plan to be in Panama City by the 15th. I hope to transit the Canal around the 20th. Then I’ll leave for the San Blas Islands early next month.”

I repeated those words into the mic.

The marine operator, repeating for Shelley, responded, “But when should she come?

Dave started to repeat, “As I said, I plan to be in Panama City by the 15th. I hope to transit . . .”

Dave divulges, finally

What’s with this guy? He calls up a woman and asks her to drop everything and fly to meet him in a foreign country. And he won’t tell her where she should go, or when, or what will happen when she gets there, or how long she’ll stay. He's just telling her his plans and expects her to figure out the rest for herself.

“Marine Operator, stand by please . . . Dave, do you actually want Shelley to come to Panama?”

“Yes, of course I want her to come.”

“When would you like her to come?”

“Around the 17th, before I transit the Canal. Then she can go through with me.”

“And when would you like her to fly back?

“Two weeks later, before I leave for the San Blas. About the end of the month.”

“Okay, Dave, will you trust me to handle this?”

“Well . . . go ahead.”

“Okay, Marine Operator, we’re ready now. Shelley, my name is Don. Can you hear me?”

“Pretty well Don. You’re breaking up some.”

“Got a pencil and paper ready? I’ll try to speak slowly and clearly.

Shelley likes the plan

“Dave wants you to come to Panama and go through the Canal with him on his boat.”

“Oh, that would be fun.”

“Book a flight to Panama City on the 17^th if you can . . . and a return flight two weeks later, near the end of the month. Several major airlines fly here, Shelley.”

“Okay, got that.”

“Dave’s not in Panama City right now but he’ll be there by the 15^th. He’ll call you then so you can give him your flight number and arrival time. Then he’ll be waiting for you at the airport.”

Dave looked puzzled. Why did it take so much talk just to arrange a visit?

     Shelley’s answer was garbled.

The marine operator interpreted for her. “Tell Dave she’d be thrilled to come. She thinks she can probably get off work okay. And she’ll be waiting for his call on the 15th.”

We talk about a bear

Then Shelley said something about a bear.

“I didn’t get that, Shelley.”

She repeated, but I still didn’t understand.

“The marine operator stepped in. “Captain, Ah think she said to g’im a big beah hug.”

“Dave, Shelley said to give you a big bear hug.” Dave nodded and shrugged.

I wondered who, exactly, was expected to deliver this hug?

Dave gets his phone bill

“Maruba, ready to write down your time and charges?”

I grimaced. The call took almost half an hour. Dave was not going to be pleased.

“We couldn’t give you a good connection tonight, Maruba. Ah’m charging you just the three minute minimum. That’ll be $15.”

“Thank you for that, operator. Really appreciate it. And thank you for all your help.”

“Mah pleasure, Captain. Aw’ll pass ya’ll back to the radio tech.”

“Goodnight Maruba,” the technician said. “Call us again soon. Whiskey Oscar Mike clear on this frequency.”

Dave invited us over for lunch the next day. As we tied up to his boat we were greeted by a big, energetic, friendly Airedale.

“That’s Bear,” Dave said.

NEXT POST

TBD