AHHH, How Sweet.
john
----- Original Message -----
From: "Kevin Rock" <[EMAIL PROTECTED]>
To: "Elecraft" <elecraft@mailman.qth.net>
Sent: Thursday, September 07, 2006 11:54 PM
Subject: [Elecraft] Elecraft CW Net notes from the midweek.
This surprised me.
I needed some fiddly bits for this weekend's net. Drove to HRO in
Portland and wandered about a bit. Asked a few questions about this and
that and joshed them a bit about things. Got quite a number of answers
and then the biggie.
I was asked about the CW nets I had mentioned in passing. Casually I said
I run the Elecraft CW Nets on Sunday. Well, then and there, I was thanked
for running the nets. One of them (nameless unless he wishes to reveal
himself :) shook my hand and thanked me. He had worked me from Florida
more than once on his K1 and enjoyed the experience. Thank you Mr.
Nameless :) I enjoyed hearing your encomium. I blushed a might and kept
my head pointed at the gear. Running the nets are thanks enough for me.
I get a kick out of hearing all you folks from thither and yon. Next
summer I hope to work my way across the continent toward Wisconsin and
maybe even eastward. If I meet you on my journey I will thank you for
being part of my learning experience. Learning what I can and cannot do
with my K2/100 has been exciting. Learning CW while you people suffer is
my albatross.
(Apologies to all mariners)
The Sun now rose upon the right:
Out of the sea came he,
Still hid in mist, and on the left
Went down into the sea.
And the good south wind still blew behind,
But no sweet bird did follow,
Nor any day for food or play
Came to the mariners' hollo!
And I had done an hellish thing,
And it would work 'em woe:
For all averred, I had killed the bird
That made the breeze to blow.
Ah wretch ! said they, the bird to slay,
That made the breeze to blow!
Nor dim nor red, like God's own head,
The glorious Sun uprist:
Then all averred, I had killed the bird
That brought the fog and mist.
The fair breeze blew, the white foam flew,
The furrow followed free;
We were the first that ever burst
Into that silent sea.
Down dropt the breeze, the sails dropt down,
'Twas sad as sad could be;
And we did speak only to break
The silence of the sea!
All in a hot and copper sky,
The bloody Sun, at noon,
Right up above the mast did stand,
No bigger than the Moon.
Day after day, day after day,
We stuck, nor breath nor motion;
As idle as a painted ship
Upon a painted ocean.
Water, water, every where,
And all the boards did shrink;
Water, water, every where,
Nor any drop to drink.
The very deep did rot: O Christ!
That ever this should be!
Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs
Upon the slimy sea.
About, about, in reel and rout
The death-fires danced at night;
The water, like a witch's oils,
Burnt green, and blue and white.
And some in dreams assuréd were
Of the Spirit that plagued us so;
Nine fathom deep he had followed us
From the land of mist and snow.
And every tongue, through utter drought,
Was withered at the root;
We could not speak, no more than if
We had been choked with soot.
Ah! well a-day! what evil looks
Had I from old and young!
Instead of the cross, the Albatross
About my neck was hung.
------
Mr. Coleridge saith words I cannot match.
I run the Net
oft caught in my debauch.
I gather my wits;
to meet me kith
and gather them from whither.
Your humble NCS,
KD5ONS (Net Control 5th Class)
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