[QUOTE=seacomber;135098]Peggy Dyson aka “Four Meg Peg” sounded good even when the weather didn’t. Too bad she was off air for this one, she might have made a difference. Seems like yesterday, but when she was on, everybody listened in.
In 1974 when Peggy Dyson would get on the radio to her late husband Oscar, a crabber out of Kodiak, Alaska, to ask him “How is it out there today?”. Those chats grew into a service that Peggy provided until January of 1999. It was in 1974 that NOAA contracted Peggy as a ship-to-shore weather broadcaster for the National Weather Service. At 0800 and 1800 hours seven days a week, 52 weeks a year, Peggy, on her radio station WBH-29, would provide National Weather Service forecasts to the mariners plying the waters of Alaska. In turn, she would ask them how the weather and sea state were at their location, and would then relay that information to the forecasters who would use it to refine their predictions. In addition to weather reports, there were often reports of volcano eruptions and earthquakes, and in many instances, her broadcasts included more personal messages - the birth of a child, or a death in the family. Peggy performed this important service for NOAA for 25 years.
The following example illustrates just how much the fishermen and mariners revered Peggy. When NOAA began deploying moorings in the waters of Alaska, considerable vandalism was taking its toll on the surface buoys and equipment. The name “PEGGY” was lettered on the buoys, and amazingly all problems ceased. To the Alaskan fishermen, Peggy’s diligent work represented lives saved and money made.
In a retirement letter to Peggy, NOAA’s Rear Admiral John C. Albright, now retired, wrote:
“Shoreside, you “Minded the Helm” in the finest of maritime traditions. All of us who have worked in the storm ravaged waters of the Gulf of Alaska owe our well-being and very lives to your steadfast and capable services. Our Guardian Angel will be sorely missed.”[/QUOTE]
Ah the good old days. I really miss Peggy. She brought us all together on 4125, and built a close nit community of Alaska mariners. Now 4125 is a ghost town, and we are no longer in touch with other boats outside of our own inner circles on the satphone.
Now that I’m flooded with emails and phone calls from the office all day long, I miss the good old days when the office had to call Peggy to find out where we were.