Essays

 

The Net

By John Guy

s/v Pachamama

Merriweather Bilge, he with a slight receding hiccup, and Robert Anchor were sitting at The Windy Pride Bar in Roatan, one of the few cruising destinations without a local morning cruisers' net, consuming a Gallo or two, when Merriweather asked Robert for his opinion about the various VHF and SSB cruiser nets available on one frequency or another all around the world.

“These nets,” said Bob, “are monuments to the North American's quest for connection, to our need to let someone know where we are and how we are doing. They also give outlet for the few who aspire to be radio announcers. Funny you ask. I've been thinking about these extraordinary daily gatherings which seem to be both a town meeting and a morning habit like listening to the Today Show while doing sit ups. They mix charm with practical value, good commentary with awful radio. Let me give you an example of awful radio. Every net seems to have a fellow named ‘roger.' He is there all the time, everywhere, and over in the eastern Caribbean there is another fellow named roger-roger. He must have purpose and value to someone, but to me he is nothing more than a giant ahhhhh in the middle of a speech. Another person, or command, or something, is “come now.” He appears anytime someone thinks that listeners cannot determine, for themselves, the end of a sentence.”

“I know what you mean,” said Merriweather (hick!!). I've been a net controller once or twice. I was given a script that had been handed from person to person for years. No one knows its genesis, and no one knows how to change the script. Any new controller who tries to change the script encounters hostility somewhere and either abandons the effort or conforms to its structure. Net controllers never meet with one another to discuss changes or to type a new script. I tried humor one time in Trinidad , and a fellow down the dock, a controller himself who happened to be from my home town knocks on our hull and angrily tells me that changes must be cleared with the senior controller. I said, ‘well, let's get together.' He said, ‘no one has time,' like, sure, cruisers have lots to do. He got so wound up at my lack of empathy that he criticized my hat and my comb over. We have not spoken since.

“Another guy tried a powerful opening, like Robin Williams, shouting ‘GOOOOD MORE NING TRIN EE DAD,' then continued to offer his brand of humor and commentary. Someone would report the weather, and he would then add, “now thar's a good ol' weather winda for ya. Let's hop right through it my friends.'”

“That too is funny,” said Robert. “You are right on target. Someone told me that weather reports should have facts, not opinions. Well, that is not completely right, because a forecast is an opinion. What should be avoided is a recommendation for action. Another thing: I am going to guess that humor cannot work on these nets.”

“Why not,' asked Merri.

“Because laughter arises from the perfect coincidence of three elements: good delivery, the right location and mood, and others laughing with us, such as in a live audience or on a laugh track. Humor cannot work without all three elements, an unlikely combination at 7:30 in the morning, when most listeners want a quick dose of information, nothing more.”

“Have you ever heard the net in Porlamar,” asked Merri.

“Yep. Know what you mean. A local fellow, restaurant owner I think, gets on at 8, and says ‘does anyone have anything for the net today?' That is it. Net control is not rotated, no commentaries are offered, unless a cruiser has a question or comment, and the whole thing usually ends in ten minutes. It is my favorite net, because it is business like.”

“True, business like,” said Merri (hick). “Here is a hypothesis to consider. Suppose that the listening group is 25 people. I'll bet two or three enjoy the humor and banter, while the others would prefer to get on with their lives. The two or three make positive comments to the gregarious controller, reinforcing his posture, while the other 22 stay silent, fearing to give insult.”

“So these nets won't change,” said Robert. “We can wish, but we cannot change. Let me offer one wish, though. I can't resist. I wish that every net included news about the peoples around us, the countries we visit, the happenings of the day, especially the cultural and sporting events we could attend and enjoy. I sometimes wonder whether we see the countries we visit because, on departure, we know so little about them, and our memories are limited to encounters with cruising friends. We do not understand. I'll never forget, in Puerto La Cruz, every cruiser predicted that Chavez would lose the election. Oh well. Have another Gallo.”