Incredible Radio Tales

When radio officers hit the beach in San Francisco they went immediately to the "Dog House", a boarding house in Powell St. that for reasons lost to time was the favorite home away from home for seafaring brass pounders. There were probably similar places in every major port in the country if not the world. And what must the sparkies have spoken about at table? Why radio, radiomen, radio conditions and radio equipment of course!

Ah! What one wouldn't give to sit in on one of those bull sessions now. These were the men who could coax a sweet note from from a decrepit quenched gap transmitter, copy through static and interference and look the Radio Inspector right in the eye when he strode self importantly into the shack.

Our time machine is out of service at the moment due to a blown power transformer. So we won't be able to join the boys at the Dog House tonight. But we can record and preserve some of our own radio tales, all of them true, for your enjoyment. As you read, let the sounds of static on 600m at midnight and the sight of glowing tubes in a dark room become real. Imagine the silence and the smell the dust in an abondoned transmitter gallery. And above all remember the radio men and women who came before us and made the profession one of honor and skill.

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Jeffrey Herman was a radioman in the US Coast Guard, stationed at NMO in Hawaii. This was in the days when the Coast Guard stations stood watch on Morse circuits in every band and selected operators proudly displayed their speed key certificates.

Most ops avoided the 500kc position but Jeffrey loved it, especially at night. Read his first hand reports below and find out what it was like to listen to every rustle and squeak across the Pacific... and what it was like to receive a real SOS.

Part 1 - Jeffrey introduces us to NMO and its radio operations.

Part 2 - A description of the 500kc operating position - Jeffrey's favorite.

Part 3 - Jeffery describes the magic of 500kc at night - and the irreverence of some operators!

Part 4 - Information about proper procedures to be followed on 500kc for everything from the silent period to a SOS.

Part 5 - A Russian lid is encountered on 500kc by Jeffrey at NMO - and by operators across the Pacific.

Part 6 - Jeffrey receives his first SOS. The fate of the ship was not a happy one.

Part 7 - A one hour extract from the 500kc log of NMO.

If you would like to contact Jeffrey Herman directly click HERE to send him an email message.

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One of the most famous transmitters at the KPH transmitting site in Bolinas, CA carried the designation BL-10. When you serviced this sleek 40kW beauty you walked into it like a room. Its voice was heard across the Pacific on 500kc and 426kc. We knew that BL-10 was out of service. But what of the transmitter itself? Was it still there? Might it speak once again? We had to find out...

BL-10 Is Dead - Explore an abandoned transmitter building in search of BL-10 - by Dick Dillman

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Warren Reese "TR", transmitter technician at KPH, was conducting a tour of the station. Of course this included the most historic building on the site, Building 1, where Marconi operations began at the site in 1913 and the current home of transmitter BL-10. But while the tour was in progress someone locked the door from the outside! What to do? TR never hesitated. Read about his creative solution to the problem.

Trapped in Building 1 - With a 10kW intercom - by Warren Reese

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After providing reliable communications for most of this century commercial Morse code was officially laid to rest in North America in 1999. The final messages were sent from the Globe Wireless master station south of San Francisco. Read what it was like to be there on that final, emotional day.

The End of Morse - The day the keys in North America fell silent - by Dick Dillman

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The tall poles and the wire antennas at KPH were kept aloft by a special breed of man: the rigger. One of these was Jim "Jimmy" Bourne. Here is a rememberance of a Chief Rigger at KPH.

A Rigger's Rigger - A story of Jimmy Bourne and the message on his climbing belt - by Dick Dillman

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