Machete Mishap, Wasps, and CW on Wake Island

28 May 2025

A Week of Disc Golf, Angry Wasps, Ham Radio, and Roadside Assistance

Mr. Machete

‘Machete’ and ‘accident’ are two words you generally never want to see in the same sentence. The phrase, “You see, what happened was…”, is either a key indicator for an above average story, or a poor excuse to follow. My use in this context will fall in the poor excuse category. You see, what happened was, I was volunteering my time on my day off to make improvements to Wake Island’s best disc golf course (okay, the only one). Part of the task I took upon myself was to clear some brush to make way for laying out a new design and additional baskets on the course.

Most weeks we get some rain but mostly in the form of passing showers. This past week we had a significant amount of rain for a couple days. Dreary, grey days but you cannot complain too much because it is warm rain. On Monday I went to work on the course after breakfast. Over the past months, I’ve logged many machete-hours clearing my 2.7 mile trail—accident-free, I might add.

Enough with painting the scene and bolstering my machete resume. Working in the rain. Wet gloves. Lost the handle on the machete—it fell, point-down, straight toward the ground. The only issue was my right foot was in the way… and I was wearing sandals like a dummy. After the initial panic, I assessed the small laceration on the top of my foot near my ankle. Not impaled. No gushing blood, that’s a good sign, just a decent cut, that… yep, that’s going to need stitches.

Off to find the medic and spoil their day off. A tetanus shot and two stitches later I was clear to go home in my shame of knowing that could have been a lot worse. The machete is going on the bench for the foreseeable future.

Battling Bees

I should have called it a day on Monday. It so happens I have a very hard time doing nothing. Added to that, the TV service was out due to some scheduled maintenance. By the afternoon my foot felt fine and I wanted to help out however I could with the project to remap our disc golf course. The new course layout pushed the course out towards the shore on Heel Point that now offers some amazing views of the ocean and waves crashing out on the reef.

Things were going great while I took great care to walk very gingerly. Great until I got too close to an unnoticed wasp nest. The little buggers did not appreciate me getting close to their pride and joy and decided to send a warning shot that landed on the side of my left knee. I am not allergic per se, but I do get a reaction from bee and ant bites. I would wager that have been stung and bitten more on my time here on Wake than my last twenty years combined but I do not try to hold a grudge against these little critters that try to call this place home now.

Fast forward two days and I went to play a round of disc golf with a couple guys from work. Hole four I picked the wrong branch to touch and WHAM, three more stings—right forearm, left hand, and the same lower shin that was still swollen. By the time I finished 17 holes (we are one short of 18, that offers a unique Wake Island disc golf experience leaving you wanting more) my right forearm was red and warm to the touch. Time to find some Benadryl and really call it a day.

CW: Rediscovering the Joy of Morse Code

My Tuesday morning activation was a great distraction from the stitches in my foot and a much safer activity. I was a little anxious to get back on CW. It had been entirely too long with all the FT8 activity acting as a recent distraction. Bring on 15 meters. Before getting on the air, I went and inspected the antenna. I noticed the lower section of the fiberglass mast had collapsed into the base probably from too many days in the heat and cool. As I went to raise it back up, I noticed bubbles and all the rain came to mind. I wondered, “How much water is in this thing?” I lifted the mast up and out of the cinder blocks that I use to hold it in place and slowly removed the base. As soon as I was able to release the base cover, water exploded out. There was probably only a gallon or two, but it was under a decent amount of pressure. My own ham radio rain gauge.

Antenna re-hosited, radio setup, and clear frequency found on 15 meters, I spotted myself on Parks On The Air just after 08:00 UTC. In two CQs I had my first caller. First in the log was Greg, WB8IZM, in Michigan. After a few more I knew it would be a busy day so I announced “up” and changed to working split. For some reason I thought it would be a good idea to use the Icom 7300’s keyer buttons to help facilitate my exchanges. I don’t know why. I thought maybe I would have gotten rusty since my last CW operation. After fumbling to hit the right button after returning the other stations’ call sign I said forget that stuff and only used the one programmed to self identify every ten minutes or so. The good thing about sending the long “de KH7AL/KH9 up” every so often is that it allowed me the chance to stretch or sip some water along the way.

About an hour into the fun I realized I was actually having, FUN. Then another hour passed by, and another. What I really enjoy about CW over the other modes is the flexibility it offers me as an operator. As I told another ham recently, CW (split) lets me pick out weaker stations from the pile. Or my favorite part, finding the operator you can imagine had to dust off their key because they might not be great at sending, but wants to give it a try in spite of their proficiency in the hopes to land a Wake Island QSO. I am more than willing to slow my speed to help the other person along. Yes, please, let’s give that a shot to encourage more people to try CW more often.

Roadside Assistance

I had to shut down early (just after 23:00 UTC) when I heard Richard (KR4CDI) call me on the work radio asking for roadside assistance on the other side of the island. He was out working on our day off while I was not working and playing ham radio. His buggy did not want to start, and Richard did not want to walk the six miles back and miss out on lunch. I am not one to leave a fellow ham stranded so I sent “QRT 73”, packed up and called it a success day ham day with 180 QSOs in the log. On the drive back with Richard we saw about a dozen Frigates floating effortlessly on the strong leeward wind as we drove around the east end of the runway and along the shore. Those are the Wake Island moments I’m learning to stop, observe, and appreciate.

So yes—machetes, stitches, bee stings, CW, roadside assistance—and it’s only midweek. What’s next?

73, Allen