Some bloke with an enormous beard and crooked glasses just walked into reception here at work - the conversation went like this:
Him: Does anyone here use Morse code?
Me: Not that I’m aware of, we’re just a warehouse
H: It’s just that we’ve been inundated by Morse code, it’s driving us potty - it’s got to be coming from one of the establishments around here
M: Oh, well, I’m pretty sure it can’t be us
<I turned to walk away, but he wasn’t finished>
H: Yes, someone must have put up an illegal aerial. I’ve complained to the local council and OFCOM
M: You don’t think it might be coming from the Naval base across the water?
(My workplace backs onto Portsmouth harbour and there’s a lot of military stuff around here)
H: Oh, no, the military don’t use Morse code at all.
H: No, they don’t use it - never have
M: Oh, I…
H: It starts at seven in the morning, I can decipher it, you see. There are at least five different ‘hands’ (meaning operators with distinctive styles, I presume)
M: Mmmm, well, we certainly don’t have time for anything like that, but it must be very annoying if it’s interfering with your radio
H: Oh, no, I’m not hearing it on the radio…
M: You mean you’re hearing audible tones?
H: Yes - someone must have put up an illegal antenna
M: O…K… well… I haven’t heard anything like that myself, but best of luck in tracking that down - I hope it works out for you
H: Oh it will, it will - OFCOM are sending a detector van
M: (thinks: better tell them to send the one with the soft interior)
<a moment of awkward silence>
H: Well, it must be the company next door, I’ll see them next
M: Bye then, good luck.
<I lock the door>