EAVESDROPPING

Conversations, Target Practice & Staying Out of the Way

Janice Anne Wheeler Sep 6

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“BAD BECKY, BAD BECKY, BAD BECKY this is Naval Aircraft Command.”

It was a steamy, sunny, late-summer morning. “Who was that hailing?” I asked my Sailor, a tad rhetorically, really just emphasizing that in our thankfully peaceful part of the seas we don’t expect such a title to come across the airwaves at all, especially in such a, well, commanding manner. We had seen the military helicopter circling overhead, but that is not a rarity so close to Norfolk, Virginia, home of an array of US military establishments. But neither of us, the Sailor has been around the region for fifty years, has ever heard the Naval Aircraft Command part.

WAIT! Please allow me to interrupt this story to tell you WHY we are listening to this convo. STEADFAST was under full sail for the first time since May 1, 2024 after 850 days of NOT sailing. When you live on a sailboat, that’s a tremendous amount. She did great and I remembered all the important stuff, including crucial provisions (cheese, rum, coffee, wine), when to duck, and how to tie knots.

I can hardly express how happy I was, so I’ll just inset the photo below. You’ll know.

OK, back to our eavesdropping tale…Our primary VHF radio, tuned to channel 16, crackled again. It was Naval Aircraft Command asking the other end of the conversation, which we could not hear, to change to channel 12. Intrigued, amused, we changed our second VHF from the local bridge and Watermen traffic to 12.

Is it eavesdropping? Absolutely. And I highly recommend it.

If you are a new boater or simply an unaware and beloved landlubber, please understand that many/most vessels will follow a conversation to the channel indicated, remotely interesting (or not) to see what’s going on. It’s a cultural thing, a way to pass the time, and can be informative, surprising, amusing, or none of the above. The next transmission on 12 from Naval Aircraft Command was all of the above, partly due to the name of the vessel that had rumbled into a US NAVY training exercise using live ammunition. (!!)

Chart credit ADC Maps.

“BAD BECKY you have entered a Live Fire Exercise Area, please proceed to course 210 two-one-zero for two miles. Do not proceed any further east. How copy?” Reminder, STEADFAST can only hear the Commander in the helicopter because the Live Fire Exercise Area was miles down the rather busy Chesapeake Bay. That exchange ended only to begin again within minutes, “BAD BECKY this is Naval Aircraft Command.” Pause. “You remain within the boundaries of the Live Fire Exercise. Please change your course to 220 for two miles. How copy?” There was a silence, and, “Thank you for your cooperation, Captain.” Another vessel was similarly directed to avoid the Live Fire Area. And another. And another. Then BECKY got really BAD. “BAD BECKY, channel 12.” Pause. “BAD BECKY you are still within the active zone of the Live Fire Exercise. Please proceed to course 270 that is two-seven-zero for twenty miles. How copy?” Pause. “What is your destination?” Pause. “Where are you going BAD BECKY? You are within the confines of a Live Fire Exercise that will last until 1pm. Please proceed immediately on course 270 for twenty miles. Do not proceed any further east. How copy?” That was the last we heard of her. Third time’s a charm.

I searched the internet and found BAD BECKY. She’s a fast, sexy sportfishing vessel complete with tuna scoping tower and can be had for a cool 1.5M USD, if anyone’s interested.

Charleston-based BAD BECKY couldn’t stay outside the lines. Screenshots MacGregor Yachts sale site.

VHF chatter for the next three hours was frequent, astonished boaters complying for the most part to the booming voice in the sky. Of course, the name of the vessel added to our substantial amusement of the situation, but I found it rather amazing, regardless of your lean, that the US Navy schedules target practice with live ammunition right off the main channel in the Chesapeake Bay, the standard route for Baltimore, one of the busiest shipping ports on the East Coast of North America, from 9am-1pm. Let’s hope all those shooters had previous practice and were pretty well honed in! For my part, I think I would have high-tailed it in the direction indicated when someone calling themselves Naval Air Command told me I was entering a live shooting zone, but to each his own….our top speed is eight knots, and BAD BECKY can probably top 40.

On the topic of military encounters, here’s a flashback for you—STEADFAST stumbled into a US Navy Submarine at the surface of the Western North Atlantic, pretty far from anywhere, just sailing along. We had just overtaken another vessel and caught dinner dragging a line off the transom. I was on the back deck with a very sharp knife when my Sailor’s voice went up an octave. “That’s a submarine!” Clearly, it was not sub-marine. I whirled to peer in the direction of his pointing finger just as a booming voice came over channel 16. Seriously. Booming. Like OZ, even, if you’ve seen that 1939 classic about tornadoes, witches and glittery slippers.

My compatriot Peter Swanson, the LOOSE CANNON wrote our 2023 Submarine story more than a year before I decided to create SPARRING and join the fun on SubStack. Take a look; if you read far enough you’ll discover that we had a Japanese racing pigeon make himself at home on our teak decks for a few weeks that same spring. Someday I’ll make ‘Herman’ into the next hero of children’s literature; he flew 9,000 miles, to windward, no less, just because he wanted to see what happened next… just like we do.

Stay safe out there my friends, and eavesdrop if it’s prudent!

Have a peaceful, sane week. ~J

Think my work is share-worthy? I hope so. Easiest way— hit the re-stack circle below right or pick one of your fine friends and pay it forward, forward, forward.

Thanks. Really. Huge gratitude from me for just reading these words. Yay us! We connect, personally, in a time when that’s not all that easy or simple or common. Cheers. ~J

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More unnecessary blather on VHFs. Not long ago I wrote a story about tuning in and tuning out channel 16. It is a mandatory, international emergency, distress and hailing frequency. In the following story, a giant yacht decided it wasn’t mandatory, and while there was a happy ending in spite of that, I hope a lesson got learned.

ASSIST WHEN ABLE Janice Anne Wheeler   ·   Aug 16 Read full story

© 2026 Janice Anne Wheeler
HOME IS WHERE WE DROP THE ANCHOR., Annapolis, Maryland, USA
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THIS LIFE IS NOT FOR EVERYONE

Stories from the other side of the planet make me glad to be back on the water

Janice Anne Wheeler and Linda Jackson  Sep 2

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In case you missed it, this is Part I of the series:

Serendipity and a Love of the Sea Janice Anne Wheeler and Linda Jackson    ·   Aug 19 Read full story

Part 2 – Letter from Linda to Janice Anne – I’ve crossed a line in my sailing adventure

Dear J – Thanks so much for your reply to my letter. I so enjoyed reading more about how you got into this crazy life of sailing and rebuilding a classic yacht. The fact that we have so many things in common really astonishes me. You said how honored you were to participate in our exchange – know that I am also honored to create this series with you.

I laughed at your comment about diving in, fully clothed, after whatever it is that you’ve dropped – and how that is an appropriate metaphor for your life. Me too. You say you are “not a sailor” but I must disagree. You must have a sailor gene in your DNA to be doing what you are now, and you and your Sailor have done a wonderful job on your refit. We both know that the job will never “end” but now you are reaping the benefits of being back in the water and sailing again. I can’t wait to hear how you enjoyed your first sail since 2024!

This past couple of weeks have been action packed for the Captain and I. We’ve left Vanuatu and started our passage through the Solomon Islands, and have officially crossed a line in our ocean exploration. Things here in this place on the planet that few people ever visit are real and raw, and likely not to everyone’s taste. You may have seen my essay this weekend about the midnight intrusion on Duende, and that was a whole other side of Paradise. I’d love to talk about security and risk with you in another letter.

What people take for granted in the ‘real world’ are in a different dimension here in the remote islands. Shopping for food is one example that I think will help put this in perspective for you. I know you’ve had some experience in other countries where the markets can be a bit edgy and where you get what you can, when you can. We have a rule, “if you see it, buy it” – because chances are if you don’t, and you go back to get it later, it will be gone.

Our last experience in anything resembling a store was in Port Orly on Espiritu Santo in Vanuatu. We’d heard that there was a place to get meat, and thought it was worth a try to top up the freezer. There is a thriving beef industry in Vanuatu, and we had great success with the meat we got in Port Vila. But the butcher shop in Orly was a mind-blower. It was a cinderblock building down a dirt path off the main road of the village. The front room of the building was a simple “stoa”, with a few shelves of canned goods behind a counter. We asked about fresh meat, and Matthew, the shop keeper, led us behind the counter and into the back room. Laid out on the floor inside the entrance were two hides from freshly butchered cows, still covered in blood and streaked with fat and sinew.

There were a couple of chest freezers against the wall, full of freshly butchered beef – not yet frozen. Whether tenderloin or chuck roast, it was all priced the same – $600 Vatu ($5.26 USD) per kilo. Naturally, I chose tenderloin. Matthew opened up the freezer and pulled out a chunk and slapped it on the tiled counter. He cut off a piece and weighed it on the scale – one kilo exactly.

Beef doesn’t get any fresher than that. The place wasn’t exactly up to first world sanitation standards, but there were no flies, and at that price I felt we had little to lose. All in all, it was an unforgettable experience, but again, one that many people would run from. That night I cooked a couple of nice filets. Since they were not aged, they were a bit tough, but super tasty. I put the rest of the kilo in the fridge to age for a few days, and then froze it. Our second meal from it a few nights ago was much improved – more tender and still tasty.

Since we left the more populated islands in Vanuatu there haven’t been any stores to speak of, and we don’t have any Solomon dollars to spend if there were. We are now bartering for vegetables and fruit from people who come out to our boat in dugout canoes. Who needs stores when you can trade a bag of rice for eggplant and bok choy from Junior, a kid of about 10 who wore giant pink Crocs and paddled his dugout with a chunk of wood, not a paddle. Or a section of rope, a pair of sunglasses, and a few fish hooks and lures to Fred, who took us on a guided walk of his village and made numerous visits to the boat with green peppers, plantains, and tomatoes. Not to mention the papaya and bananas I got from Lisha and Aisha, the granddaughters of the village chief in Uki Ni Massi, who were thrilled with beads, colorful hair ties, and nail polish.

People have so little, and I wish everyday that I’d thought to bring more things that would be useful such as reading glasses, sunglasses, and a lot more school and art supplies. When we reprovision next I’ll load up on food items like small bags of rice and sugar and noodle soups. And of course lollies, always lollies for the kids of all ages. Food staples are always welcome, and we have many more remote islands in our path.

Many of the people here never leave their islands, and we’ve met kids who have never seen a white person, ridden in a car, touched a piece of ice, or even seen a sail boat. In the place we anchored a couple of nights ago, a guy named Presley came out in his dugout canoe to chat with us, and told us that they hadn’t seen another visiting yacht since September 2025. His village had no roads, and no vehicles. They farm copra and cacao, and a small boat comes every month or so with supplies. Their lives are so different than ours, and I am learning so much about a part of the planet that I knew little about before we came here.

We have since left Guadalcanal, an island that shows no outward signs of the atrocities that occurred here in WW2, but harbors the ghosts. I’ve been thinking a lot about the events that took place here and how they affected the people. My next essay is shaping up around this topic. It’s both fascinating and repelling – so much tragedy in this beautiful place.

At this moment we are sailing along with full yankee and a reefed main, making our way up to the island of New Georgia – another new landfall. And here I am, sitting in the pilothouse, writing this letter to you on my laptop. The wonders of technology have really changed the experience of remote ocean adventure, in a way that is truly amazing.

We’re planning our route for the next leg of this extreme passage through the rest of the Solomons to the outer islands of Papua New Guinea and on to Indonesia. Who knows what that is going to bring? While this life is not for everyone, it’s definitely for me. I am happy to be able to share some of it with you in this series, and look forward to hearing back from you soon.

And here’s a full moon shot from the other night – it’s very cool that you are see the same one, on the opposite side of the planet, on a different day!

Sail on my friend!

LJ, SV Duende

Underway from Guadalcanal to New Georgia, Solomon Islands
Latitude: 009° 03.779’’ S
Longitude: 159° 33.829’ E

Part 2: Letter from Janice Anne to Linda – Your stories make me glad to be back on the water!

Good Morning LJ– not morning for you, of course…!

I was so pleased to receive this today– opened it immediately–sounds like island hopping at its finest! Go you! And go me, for the first time since May 1, 2024 STEADFAST found herself under full sail last Thursday. What a feeling after all this time, and things went beautifully, felt like we belonged, and STEADFAST finally got to show off her stuff again.

I chuckled a bit at our ongoing “Am I a Sailor after only a few years?” dialogue–I think it might be fair to say yes, I know how to sail. The rest is pure determination and grit. THIS LIFE IS NOT FOR EVERYONE…. 😉

Your current stop, Guadalcanal, certainly brings back memories of history class, however vague, WWII battles and the ugliness of war; so glad that has been left behind to a large extent, anyway. Cannot be forgotten, I’m sure. That is an amazing photo— what a stunning island! Wandering the Bahamas brings the now-controversial Christopher Columbus back to life; his first landfall was not in North America, as I feel like I was taught, but an outlier of the main Bahama chain. The reality would be that he pretty much missed the big ol’ home continent of ours…..and then ‘discovered’ there were already complex cultures, of all things!

Anyway, on to your shopping trip to the Butcher– vegans beware indeed. I, too, would have chosen the tenderloin, but might have purchased the entire thing instead of just a kilo! I imagine that they waste no part of the animal, and that’s always so nice to see– we take our grocery stores for granted, don’t we? I agree completely on the cleanliness and the lack of flies. Crucial. Certainly that was by far the freshest meat you have ever purchased. How did they package it? Did you have bags? Just curious. We fish behind the vessel constantly and also spear for lobster and smaller fish. Is this part of your provisioning/diet? I’ve met an amazing number of boaters who don’t eat seafood, but I’m a huge fan, as long as it’s properly prepared.

I’ve walked miles on rough roads now and then and echo your motto on grocery purchases. We, too, buy it when we see it, if we’re willing and able to carry it back to where we came ashore! I once paid $12USD for a pineapple as it was the only fresh fruit on an isolated island. (I bought some canned recently!) Values change, don’t they? You know far better than I, after all these thousands of ocean miles under your keel. I know we eat a lot of old, tough carrots!

I love, respect and appreciate your advice on what to pack in order to trade and gift locals, especially the children. What incredible photographic captures of the twin girls and all the rest; they do seem so innocent, don’t they? They are innocent, by any of our standards, I think. You are an ambassador, by choice, and I’m sure you’re an excellent one! How delightful that they want to meet you. What an honor that they find you interesting, meet your eyes and smile instead of being the low-energy, callous, disinterested, phone-focused youngsters who can cross my path in this culture.

STEADFAST seems to encounter more adults in our travels than children. I once gave a dive mask to an elderly, lone Bahamian in a plastic kayak who was hunting spiny lobster with only his intellect and decades of experience, miles from home. Our first year we traded some tender tails from a commercial fishing boat for packets of hot chocolate and beer, an odd combination indeed!

In 2023 we were preparing for a five-year extended trip down the coast of South America and I thought long and hard about what we would NOT be able to purchase. I understand now how easy life on land or dock is– whatever we need is generally accessible within a few miles. I tell my non-sailing friends– just think about the amount of groceries, toiletries, dry goods and beverages you buy each week. Each week! So now multiply that times months and provisioning is a tremendous undertaking, even knowing you will be able to find some things abroad. Think: years worth of your favorite toothpaste and razor blades, hot sauce and seasonings, right? The rest, no. If it’s not on your boat, you try completely new things or simply do without. Not a cultural norm, but one that is far healthier for the planet, IMHO.

We’re taking a few days away from the real world and just wandering the (comparatively) small but mighty Chesapeake Bay, reuniting with our sailing life, rolling with it, so to speak. Like you, it’s most certainly the one I choose, and it’s definitely not for everyone!

Fair winds. Write soon! ~J

Latitude 38° 30.573 North
Longitude 76° 15.565 West

In case you missed it, this is my original ‘Stack introductory piece, March of 2024; I think you’ll love it!

SPARRING WITH MOTHER NATURE

SPARS & SPARRING

These stories often come to me out of the darkest darkness, late at night, on watch, when the sound of the unseen sea can be either unpredictably raucous or quietly hypnotic, when the motion of the vessel can either rock you gently to sleep or jolt you awake, adrenaline flowing. I couldn’t possibly hit all the right keys under the latter conditions, so …

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2 years ago · 40 likes · 26 comments · Janice Anne Wheeler

BIG P.S.! I just read your post dated August 30th and I am so sorry and saddened about what happened to you and your Captain AND most importantly am glad you are safe. We’ve been lucky so far, but that is another example of YOUR self-sufficiency and the fact that THIS LIFE IS NOT FOR EVERYONE….take good care, my friend, and please stay joyous. ~J

About the Pen Pal Series

The Pen Pal Series features stories, questions, and unique experiences of other travelers — written from wherever we happen to be on the planet. Each open letter exchange pairs two different routes through life, shared in real time.

These pen pal letters are a throwback to the time before messaging and email, when letters sent by post were the only way to communicate 1:1. In those days, once letters left the writer, the words disappeared from the author and belonged to the recipient. In this electronic age, not only does the sender retain a copy, but it can be instantly shared with a host of others. It’s a phenomenal connection.

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© 2026 Janice Anne Wheeler
HOME IS WHERE WE DROP THE ANCHOR., Annapolis, Maryland, USA
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