31
North American Shortwave Pirate / Re: Mix Radio International 6870 usb 0027 utc 20 Aug 2022
« on: August 20, 2022, 0152 UTC »
Mix Booming here in Winter Park, FL
0149 Keep On - D Train
0149 Keep On - D Train
Shortwave Pirate Radio In North America And Around The World, And Other Signals That Go Bump In The Night
We seek to understand and document all radio transmissions, legal and otherwise, as part of the radio listening hobby. We do not encourage any radio operations contrary to regulations.
Always consult with the appropriate authorities if you have questions concerning what is permissible in your locale.
A legend before your time!
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32
North American Shortwave Pirate / Re: Ball Smacker Radio 6960 AM 0057 UTC 20 August 2022
« on: August 20, 2022, 0144 UTC »
Hearing faintly in Winter Park Florida through local static crashes, SIO 212. Thanks OP!
0142 Wilson Phillips - Hold On
0142 Wilson Phillips - Hold On
33
North American Shortwave Pirate / Re: UNID 6930 USB 0220 UTC 14 August 2022
« on: August 14, 2022, 0320 UTC »
0317 ongoing dreamy space music, spooky laughter + OP, SIO 434 from Winter Park FL.
34
North American Shortwave Pirate / Re: UNID 6925 USB 0057 UTC 14 Aug 2022
« on: August 14, 2022, 0106 UTC »
SIO 434 from Winter Park, Florida, on the ICOM 705 and tree slung randomwire
0103 ELO Mister blue sky
0108 Why Can't we be friends
0103 ELO Mister blue sky
0108 Why Can't we be friends
35
North American Shortwave Pirate / Re: Unid 6925 USB 1259 UTC 13 Aug 2022
« on: August 13, 2022, 1340 UTC »
SIO 434 from Winter Park, FL. I was just hanging my new randomwire this morning too! Nice surprise!
36
North American Shortwave Pirate / Re: WDDR 6960 USB 0059 UTC 07 AUG 2022
« on: August 07, 2022, 0234 UTC »
Hi WDDR! Sounding great in Florida now that my QRM has cleared.
Request - "She don't love nobody" - Nick Lowe
Edit: Thank you WDDR, good to hear you! <3
Request - "She don't love nobody" - Nick Lowe
Edit: Thank you WDDR, good to hear you! <3
37
North American Shortwave Pirate / Re: Wolverine Radio Radio 6960 USB 2357 UTC 06 AUG 2022
« on: August 07, 2022, 0155 UTC »
0153 - Jackson Browne "Tender is the Night"
0156 - REM "The One I Love"
Have lots of local QRM tonight but SIO 212 from Winter Park
Thanks Wolverine!
0156 - REM "The One I Love"
Have lots of local QRM tonight but SIO 212 from Winter Park
Thanks Wolverine!
38
General Radio Discussion / Re: Calling This "Pirate Radio" Seems A Bit Of A Stretch
« on: July 24, 2022, 0606 UTC »
I grew up in a small town, but what most folks don't know is that I grew on the poor white side of "The Rock," the historical black part of town.
Then just as I was entering what should have been middle school, my Mom was approved due to her disabilities to move into the newly built housing project. I was already involved as the JV equipment manager for both football and basketball, so all the black kids already knew me.
The families that wanted to get their kids away from the drug scene moved "uptown" to the projects, where there at least the doorframes had enough structural integrity to not get kicked in "easily."
Prior to the move, we lived in an old 50's single wide mobile home, that we padlocked from the inside at night, as the door lock was crap. There the biggest threats were drunk amorous commercial fishermen using our yard for a shortcut back to the boats where the captains let them sleep overnight. Not what a single mom and an adolescent tomboy really needed in life. The housing project really was the safer option.
Once we moved to the housing projects, I started taking my lumps from the white affluent kids who knew where I now walked home to after school.
After a couple of the project kids saw me taking sh*t they would basically walk myself and another cuban kid home in a "box formation" -- gaggle of big black kids in front of us aways, and gaggle of big black kids behind us.
After a month or two, the denser preppy antagonists got the message. After a year or two of the teams I worked with having decent winning seasons, I got lumped in with the "approved" jock clique and never had trouble walking home again.
On other weird nights, there would be trouble "in" the projects. Someone finally getting out of jail and coming back to beat up the cousin who narc'd him out or whatever. There were always lookouts near the corner of the properties after 9pm, and the front units of the project were all the "Large family" apartments.
Usually the matriarchs would call out to the lookouts, "Tell Bobbie's daughter to go 'round back," If they were expecting trouble, cops, or both.
"Round back" was a quiet gate from the supermarket plaza that led to a hidden-ish, never-locked gate and the basketball courts about a quarter mile down plaza delivery alley. Conveniently to the rear of the length of the projects was my apartment. Cell phones weren't prevalent yet, but my neighbors across the way had kids on the basketball team, and she's call up to the from apartments, let them know I was home safe, and me if I'd seen her boys on the way or not, because they dawdled hanging out with friends up that way, when she wanted them home.
Later when I moved to the other side of town, mostly retirees, white rednecks and Cubans. The local drug matriarch's eldest son Wayne, moved next door to me. We'd gone to school together till his mother pulled him out at 16. Owned a beautiful restored metallic orange impala, and a rottweiler that was a total buttercup with people he knew, but looked formidable until my cat chased him back to his own yard. Wayne didn't do drugs, stayed away from his mother's "people," but was the brain in the family and probably is an underworld accountant by now. I had a scanner back in those days and it would inadvertently pick up his wireless home phone, he lived so close. He would quickly shut anyone down who tried to talk family business over the phone. Strictly face to face, and preferably with his mother, not him.
Not even kidding I felt pretty safe with him as a neighbor too. The dog wasn't very ferocious, but plenty barky and was a very good early warning system.
Then just as I was entering what should have been middle school, my Mom was approved due to her disabilities to move into the newly built housing project. I was already involved as the JV equipment manager for both football and basketball, so all the black kids already knew me.
The families that wanted to get their kids away from the drug scene moved "uptown" to the projects, where there at least the doorframes had enough structural integrity to not get kicked in "easily."
Prior to the move, we lived in an old 50's single wide mobile home, that we padlocked from the inside at night, as the door lock was crap. There the biggest threats were drunk amorous commercial fishermen using our yard for a shortcut back to the boats where the captains let them sleep overnight. Not what a single mom and an adolescent tomboy really needed in life. The housing project really was the safer option.
Once we moved to the housing projects, I started taking my lumps from the white affluent kids who knew where I now walked home to after school.
After a couple of the project kids saw me taking sh*t they would basically walk myself and another cuban kid home in a "box formation" -- gaggle of big black kids in front of us aways, and gaggle of big black kids behind us.
After a month or two, the denser preppy antagonists got the message. After a year or two of the teams I worked with having decent winning seasons, I got lumped in with the "approved" jock clique and never had trouble walking home again.
On other weird nights, there would be trouble "in" the projects. Someone finally getting out of jail and coming back to beat up the cousin who narc'd him out or whatever. There were always lookouts near the corner of the properties after 9pm, and the front units of the project were all the "Large family" apartments.
Usually the matriarchs would call out to the lookouts, "Tell Bobbie's daughter to go 'round back," If they were expecting trouble, cops, or both.
"Round back" was a quiet gate from the supermarket plaza that led to a hidden-ish, never-locked gate and the basketball courts about a quarter mile down plaza delivery alley. Conveniently to the rear of the length of the projects was my apartment. Cell phones weren't prevalent yet, but my neighbors across the way had kids on the basketball team, and she's call up to the from apartments, let them know I was home safe, and me if I'd seen her boys on the way or not, because they dawdled hanging out with friends up that way, when she wanted them home.
Later when I moved to the other side of town, mostly retirees, white rednecks and Cubans. The local drug matriarch's eldest son Wayne, moved next door to me. We'd gone to school together till his mother pulled him out at 16. Owned a beautiful restored metallic orange impala, and a rottweiler that was a total buttercup with people he knew, but looked formidable until my cat chased him back to his own yard. Wayne didn't do drugs, stayed away from his mother's "people," but was the brain in the family and probably is an underworld accountant by now. I had a scanner back in those days and it would inadvertently pick up his wireless home phone, he lived so close. He would quickly shut anyone down who tried to talk family business over the phone. Strictly face to face, and preferably with his mother, not him.
Not even kidding I felt pretty safe with him as a neighbor too. The dog wasn't very ferocious, but plenty barky and was a very good early warning system.
There was a dead end alley the cops used to do their night shift napping in about a block and half away. You could hear them calling into the station when they missed something serious going on, which was all the time in the heart of lower Crackton.
The Bloods owned an apartment building down the block on my side of the street and the house directly across from the apt. building. It gave them a nice field of fire when rival gangs rolled through.
My wife signed the lease on the place before I could check it out. She drove me over there the next day. A bunch of guys in red blocking the street at about 5 p.m. She was fretting we'd be late meeting the landlady, I told her not to worry, they were there to pick up tonight's products and would be gone in a couple of minutes. She went, "What products?" I just rolled my eyes. Pregnant women can be so oblivious to what's going on in front of them. I explained it to her when we got in the house. Her words were, and I quote, "Uh-oh."
When we first started hearing shots from that end of the street, I told her they were probably shooting at muskrats down on the river bank and not to worry. About a year in, there was full fledged fire fight, police helicopters, the whole nine yards. I had her take the baby and get down as low in the cast-iron bathtub as they could. I got my shotgun and got behind the bathtub. It didn't last much longer, city, state, and county cops were all over that block.
The next day two things happened, my wife decided we were moving, and later when I was out in the yard looking at all the yellow tape and bullet riddled cars, I hear a voice behind me say, "Do you have a crowbar I can borrow?" It was one of the younger Bloods I used to say hello to as he had a baby about the same age as mine. I said,"No, but I've got a claw hammer I'll let you borrow, will that do?" He said "Yeah, probably." (I've always found it doesn't hurt to be nice to folks like that. I walked out to go to work one morning when I lived there and discovered every car on the block except ours and there's had their tires slashed. I don't know what it was about, but I knew it wasn't a coincidence.)
About 15 minutes later he shows back up carrying a paper bag and the claw hammer. He hands the hammer back to me and thanks me. That was the last I ever saw of those folks.
39
North American Shortwave Pirate / Re: QRM 6932 USB 0256 UTC 23 JUL 2022
« on: July 23, 2022, 0412 UTC »
Hearing faintly in Winter Park, FL SIO 212 music with strong guitar chords.
40
General Radio Discussion / Re: Calling This "Pirate Radio" Seems A Bit Of A Stretch
« on: July 22, 2022, 1345 UTC »When my daughter was a baby, we had a baby monitor that would receive and transmit all over the place. There was a Wendy's behind us and a Long John Silvers nearby, we got all of the orders, two meters we heard it. The thing would transmit a decent distance, I put the kid down for a nap once, said "I love you." and this old woman came over the receiver, "Delores, did you hear that? That man said he loved you!"
A legend before your time!
41
North American Shortwave Pirate / Re: WTF Worldwide 6925 USB 0224 USB 17 JUL 2022
« on: July 17, 2022, 0331 UTC »
Getting decent s3 from Winter Park, FL on the IC-705 and the tree-slung randomwire. Dire Straights music, op talk at 0328 followed by "Walk of Life". Thanks OP!
03:33 So far away
03:33 So far away
42
North American Shortwave Pirate / Re: CDO 6925 USB 0126 UTC 17 JUL 2022
« on: July 17, 2022, 0155 UTC »
Hearing music faintly under my noise floor in Winter Park, FL... rock guitar power chords, stable signal, just not too loud at my QTH. Thanks OP!
43
North American Shortwave Pirate / Re: UNID 6932 USB 0203 UTC 21 June 2022
« on: June 21, 2022, 0219 UTC »
0219 SIO 222 classic rock (Worldwide Radio?) ID over top of usic
44
North American Shortwave Pirate / Mix Radio International 6855 USB 0153 UTC 21 JUN 2022
« on: June 21, 2022, 0156 UTC »
01:56 Booming here SIO 555 from Winter Park Florida. Nice tunes but not familiar to me.
0157 Allure - Somewhere inside of me
0200 Aly & Fila - Perfect Love
0157 Allure - Somewhere inside of me
0200 Aly & Fila - Perfect Love
45
General Radio Discussion / Re: Kevin Miller, KM6AU, "Al Fansome"
« on: June 17, 2022, 0931 UTC »REO threw out ton's of plastic guitar pic's w/"REO Speedwagon" on both sides after each show into the crowd early on. I'm sure I wasn't the only 14 y.o. that said "Screw practicin! I'm on the road to fame and fortune now!"
