wildlifewriter

Summarily disqualified. This is merely Dan's original log, with all the punctuation edited out. It's a common misconception among amateurs that the "Stream of Consciousness" style is just ordinary writing, minus most of the full stops. A quick glance through Joyce, Woolf or Kerouac will soon show that there's a bit more to it than that...

The Cache of Sherlock Holmes - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle (This turned out to be a bit longer than I intended, but it was fun doing it...Wlw) Sherlock Holmes threw down his newspaper with an exclamation of disgust: "Commonplace, Watson - nothing but commonplace. Oh for a case to challenge the intellect! Are all London's criminals asleep?" I made no reply, for my own copy of the paper had some interesting illustrated advertisements for ladies' foundation garments, and these commanded my full attention. Just then, Mrs Hudson entered, bearing a visiting card on her tray: "There do be a gentleman to see 'ee, Muster 'olmes. In a right lather, 'e is, an I do say so..." "Thank you, Mrs. Hudson. Why are you talking in that extraordinary accent?" "This was the only acting job I could get." "I see. Well, let us not keep our client waiting. Show him in Mrs. Hudson, show him in..." The door opened to admit a man of medium height, much reddened in the face, and wearing a curious assemblage of outdoor clothing. "Sit down, Sir and compose yourself, for you are sadly winded I fear. A glass of Dr. Watson's brandy, perhaps? Good..." Holmes glanced at the card: " Mr. Lucas O'Zade, is it not? You must tell us what brings you to Baker Street, for at present I can only say that you are of Irish ancestry, your middle name is "Casper", you live at the lower end of Mornington Crescent and you are obviously a licensed vintner by trade." "Upon my word, Holmes!" I cried, "The ancestry I allow, but how could you possibly deduce these other details?" "They are printed on his card." replied Holmes, impatiently. "Do be quiet Watson. Now, Mr. O'Zade - if you have quite recovered your faculties - what is the cause of this unseemly haste?" "I scarcely know where to begin, Gentlemen," said our visitor "but the matter - in its essence - concerns what is commonly called Geocaching..." "Geocaching?" Holmes looked thoughtful, "I recall an item in last week's Times by some fellow calling himself "The Forester". It appeared on pages nine, ten, eleven, twelve and thirteen - a substantial monograph, without doubt." He turned to me: "This Geocaching', Watson, seems to be a kind of recreational activity, popular among the lower orders, ne'er-do-wells and social misfits. Am I correct, Sir?" "Quite correct, Mr. Holmes," replied O'Zade "and it serves to keep us out of the gin shops and gaming-houses. Better a man should be out-of-doors for a cache, than at home beating his wife, they do say. Not but that my own wife doesn't appreciate the occasional spank, by Jove - when I think of her pert little..." " - and you are the owner of one of these Geocaches?" interrupted Holmes, hastily. "I am indeed - or rather, WAS the owner - for I must tell you, Mr. Holmes, that my cache has been stolen! Stolen this last day, or my name's not Luke O'Zade!. Of course, I reported the theft to Inspector Lestrade at Scotland Yard, but he told me to 'b***er off' - beggin' your pardon, Gents - and that Geocaching was 'a waste of Police time.' So now I have come to you, as my last hope." "And I shall do everything in my power to help you." Holmes was now alert, like a dog on the scent: "But tell me, where was this.. item, placed, when it went missing?" "In Epping Forest, on the South side of the road." "Where exactly? It is of the utmost importance." "Oruvaq gur guveq fghzc ba gur yrsg, naq bire n ovg." said O'Zade, and grinned: "In our secret language, which is to say - behind the third stump on the left, and over a bit." "I know the exact spot!" Holmes snapped his fingers and our client looked startled. "Er... the ground there is a distinctive reddish clay, which is found nowhere else. There are specks of it on your left boot." "That is paint, Mr. Holmes - on account of I was doing the dado rails in a nice pale vermilion, last week." "It is of no consequence. Well, Mr. O'Zade, I shall take your case, and you may rest assured that it is as good as solved - for I believe that we may already know the identity of the culprit. When my investigations are completed, I shall be in touch. Mrs. Hudson will show you out. Good day to you, Sir..." When our visitor had departed, I was none the wiser: "You have over-reached yourself this time, Holmes. How can the stolen cache be found, with almost no information to go on?" "It's really quite elementary, Watson. You remember when I went out yesterday, in disguise?" "Yes. You were dressed as a sailor with a blonde wig, if I recall." "No, No - the OTHER time." Holmes moved, cat-like, towards a table by the window. "The fact is, I made my way to Epping Forest, last night - where I found THIS..." With a flourish, he produced a small translucent box, adorned with green labels in a curious script. "This is the stolen cache? But Holmes, one assumes that you were supposed to replace it in the original position - not bring it back here?" "Ah, there you are mistaken, Watson, for there's more to this case than you imagine..." A foreboding gripped my heart at these words. "... in this 'Geocaching' phenomenon I detect the work of the Napoleon of Crime himself - Professor Moriarty!" "Calm yourself Holmes, I beg..." "It's Moriarty who has planned the whole thing! Don't you see, Watson - don't you see? He has done this to divert my attention from his nefarious activities. It's all of a piece - the newspaper article - who do you suppose this mysterious 'Lactodorum' is - Moriarty again, I tell you!" Flecks of spittle appeared at the corner of his mouth: "The game's afoot, Watson! Fetch your trusty service revolver, and we'll catch the villain this time, for certain." "Of course we will, old friend," I said soothingly, as I reached for my medicine bag, "Just take your nice little tablets, as we agreed, and everything will be all right." This was the worst attack yet, and the treatment was having little effect. Perhaps a stronger dose, from now on...

Good plan, FoF. Except for the "Do a bit of work" bit.

Recently, I tried to prove that Geocaching was a deductible business expense. The attempt was unsuccessful. In fact, it's the first and only time I've seen the Inland Revenue use the f-word in official correspondence... (Edited for vanity and profanity)

The House at Pooh Corner - A.A. Milne Pooh and his friends were searching for a cache in the Hundred-Acre Wood. Piglet's GPS would not work properly under the trees, and he kept running in circles, round and round. "Please stop that, Piglet" said Pooh "It's making me dizzy." "Oh DO come on, Pooh!" said Piglet, a little out of breath. "It's this way. Or that way." "I don't like Geocaching." said Eeyore, "Geocaching is stupid. There won't be ANYTHING worth finding." Pooh smacked his lips: "There might be honey. I like honey." "There'll only be some plastic toys and a few broken seashells," replied Eeyore mournfully, "It's always the same." Just then, there was a crashing noise in the forest ahead of them. It was Tigger. "Tiggers are always the best at finding caches!" said Tigger, springing away again. "Watch me get FTF on this one!" And with a final BOING, he landed right in the middle of some nettles with a crunching sound. The friends gathered round and looked at the remains of what Tigger had found. "Bother." said Eeyore. "I'm hungry." said Pooh. "Should be archived." said Piglet. And they all went home.

Hmm... I didn't have The Good Doctor in mind but, yes, perhaps you are right - a couple of baseball references and some extra commas, and it's HST to the life. Maybe we should have a "Cache logs in the literary style of..." topic. T'would make a change from "WAAS"....

Just back from a two-day trip which included a couple of (unintentional) night examples. Some caches in the dark are just dark - and some are evil... Hell Fire Club

A role that might have been created just for him... Richard "I just don't BELIEVE it!" Wilson

...and with a swish and a dull thud, "The Forester" misses the point again...

Don't believe everything you read...

Deplored, with knobs on. A possible solution would be: get hold of these dunderheads, have them put to sleep humanely (youthenasia) and bury the remains under the rock in question. The 'inscription' would then be appropriate.

From the last ESTB bulletin available (Friday's)... * from 17/11/2004 00h42 UTC to 17/11/2004 00h54 UTC : no broadcasting, then message without differential corrections. Just a little glitch, there....

.. Well done, PH!! .. You'll have to start taking it seriously from now on.

Bill, It might be a mistake to assume that there's a "right" or "wrong" answer to this. As I said (about 2 pages back) it's really a matter of making an informed choice. I can envision a time coming when you (or I) will be watching our GPS indicator as it points to the middle of a large lake. Instead of saying: "Looks like someone used the wrong map datum for this cache" ...it'll be: "Looks like someone got a load of duff EGNOS corrections for this cache". This is commonly referred to as The March Of Progress...

Less noise at the back there, please. Get on with your homework.

A: No. The identity of "IWG" has to be suppressed, following a number of death threats from TB owners in the U.S.A.

A: There are certainly a number of caches in the south and west of Ireland which are .... less than ideal. However, it's unlikely that IWG ever goes on holiday, because he would be too tight-fisted to pay for the tickets.

Q: What does “IWG” stand for? A: Ireland's Worst Geocacher. Q: Does “IWG” operate everywhere? A: To date, IWG's depredations have been confined to Ireland. However, there is always a risk that he may start looking for caches in GB, or even further afield. Q: “IWG” found my cache! What should I do? A: You should carry out an immediate maintenance visit. Your cache may have been left out in the open, or even moved to another location in the area. If there were travel bugs in the cache, you may find that one is missing but has not been logged on its TB page. It may be several months before this item turns up, if it ever does. Q: Does IWG operate alone? A: It is thought that IWG has an accomplice – believed to be of primary school age. It is difficult to tell which of them writes up the log entries. Q: I found a cache which was a re-used microwave food carton wrapped in a black bin liner. Could this be an IWG cache? A: Unlikely. The container sounds right but black bin liners cost money - “IWG” tends to use white plastic “shirt bags” from supermarkets, because they're free. Q: Are IWG's caches always damp? A: No. They are dry when first placed, and until the first rain falls. Even after that, it may take a couple of days for the contents to become fully saturated. Q: Why are the co-ordinates of IWG's caches always wrong? A: This is a mystery. Even when IWG manages to use the correct map datum, an error of more than 70 feet is quite a lot. There is circumstantial evidence that the duff co-ords and other misleading information are a deliberate policy - to make the cache in question “more fun”. Q: I found an IWG cache which had a box with two lids! What does this mean? A: Your guess is as good as mine. Q: Are you making all this up? A: No. Q: Is “IWG” a real person? A: Unfortunately, yes. Q: Is it true that your own cache GCKFBA, is a satire on the activities of IWG? A: Absolutely correct. However, mine has no water in it. Q: What will you do if the real “IWG” reads this topic? A: Provided that I can decipher the inevitable spelling and punctuation mistakes, I would welcome any comments which he might have...

The whole question about harassment is a difficult one. One 'polite reminder' would doubtless be ok - a series of them might not. Here in Norn Iron, we have a notorious local cacher who is in the habit of taking TBs from caches and dropping them off again elsewhere (often months later) - all of course, unrecorded. (He just did it again, last week ... ) If the 'polite reminder' doesn't work, then we are not simply dealing with someone who doesn't understand how Travel Bugs work. By implication, the individual concerned is either completely thoughtless or (as in the case just quoted) thunderingly stupid. This is where you should ask the UK admins to intervene. THAT (after all) is what they get the big money for...

The reason for that would be quite complex, I imagine...

Rebuke accepted - although the wretched acronyms were not invented by me. They do provide a useful shorthand for dealing with what are, admittedly, extremely boring concepts. No doubt Michael Longley - leading Irish poet and sometime teacher of English to a certain inattentive dunderhead - is turning in his grave. Or would be, except that he isn't dead yet...

Yes, but it's also poorly understood by most GPSr users. This isn't helped by the fact that (as pointed out by "Forester") manufacturers are rather coy about explaining the "accuracy" display on their units. Both of my Garmin receivers show a figure which seems to be HEPE, corresponding roughly to HDOP * URA * 0.73 ... meaning that there is a 50% probability of the displayed position being found within a circle (ellipse?) of that size. However... when I test my little eTrex repeatedly (or, until its little batteries run out) against a known position, it seems to do a bit better than that. So I could be wrong. (50% of the time, anyway)

When a great big green

That is correct... ... and so is that. Well, there are several EGNOS vehicles - they're all (more or less) geostationary. Right again. They might do anything during the test phase - including transmission of correction data which is hours out-of-date. It's a matter of choice, whether or not you choose to use a system which is still being tested and adjusted. I, personally, choose not to. Wlw. (Post time: 1.8 cigarettes.)

(OK - something improper happened there... )