Category Archives: Radio history

Radio and the Longitude Problem

The wireless telegraph solved the Longitude Problem once and for all. Many maritime disasters over the centuries were the result of sailors not knowing their longitude. Determining latitude is relatively simple. From any position on earth, it is easy to determine the local time by observing the sun or stars. When the sun is at its highest point for the day, this is, by definition, noon local time. The sun’s altiude at that time can be used to quickly determine the observer’s latitude.

Longitude, however, was a much more difficult problem. With instantaneous communication, it’s trivially simple to determine longitude. The observer merely determines local noon, and then compares that with the local time at a known longitude. The difference in time can quickly be converted to difference in longitude. If it is noon at my location, and I know that it is 6:00 PM at Greenwich, then I instantly know that I am 90 degrees west of Greenwich. The time diference is 6/24 of one day, which is 1/4. Therefore, the difference in longitude is 1/4 of 360 degrees, or 90 degrees.

Of course, instantaneous communication was not availalbe for most of the history of navigation. Therefore, the problem remained formidable. It wasn’t until the late 1700’s that sufficiently accurate chronomoters became available. And even then, a backup method (careful observation of the eclipses of known stars by the moon) involving laborious calculations was required.

These problems were solved by the use of wireless time signals. A mariner could set his chronometer accurately (generally, to about a tenth of a second) by use of time signals broadcast by stations such as NAA in the United States or the Eiffel Tower in France.

But even as recently as 90 years ago, this problem was still receiving attention, as shown by the article in the November, 1924, issue of Radio News. Listening to the time signal by ear and noting the time on the chronometer was accurate enough for maritime navigation. But for land surveying, a more precise automated method was necessary. Telegraph lines could be used, but the relays used in long lines introduced a delay. Radio was ideal, since the only delay was the speed of light, and even that could be accounted for. The article explains how the time radio time signal from the naval observatory was graphed along with the time from a locally calibrated chronometer. The result was a very accurate indication of the time difference, and thus the longitude difference, between the two locations.

The article shows how the time signal from Annapolis, Maryland, was used to determine exact longitude in Skagway, Alaska, 3000 miles away.

Combination Book Light-Radio, 1939

I’m not sure exactly why one would want a combination book light and radio, but if you wanted one 75 years ago, Popular Science for November 1939 showed you how to build it. It was billed as being extremely useful for reading in bed, assuming of course, that you have a handy aerial and ground connection nearby.

The radio itself is a basic one-tube regenerative receiver. It uses two trimmer condensers, one of which handles tuning and the other regeneration. The particular tube used in this circuit appears to be unobtanium. It looks like a standard miniature tube, but it’s actually a Hytron “Bantam Junior,” with a proprietary bakelite base. The receiver drove a pair of headphones, presumably for quiet bedtime listening while reading.

1934 One Tube Radio

Occasionally here at OneTubeRadio.com, we have, well, a one tube radio. This one appeared 80 years ago this month in the November 1934 issue of QST.

This circuit uses half of the dual-triode Type 19 tube as the regenerative detector, and the other half as an audio amplifier. It’s not very different from the 1950 Boys’ Life receiver I featured in an earlier post. The tube is equivalent to the slightly more modern 1J6 with an octal base, and that tube is available for less than $4 from Antique Electronic Supply.

If you’re looking for a simple circuit for a one tube radio, here it is! For pointers on finding some of the other parts, see my earlier article on the subject.

WCFL vs. Border Blaster XEAW

The radio column for the Milwaukee Journal 75 years ago today, October 30, 1939, touches on the phenomenon of “border blasters” in Mexico and how they affected U.S. radio listening. Milwaukee was essentially the same radio market as Chicago. Even though Milwaukee had its own stations, listeners there ordinarily listened to the Chicago stations, including WCFL, then on 970 kilocycles. In 1939, WCFL carried the NBC “Blue” network, and would have been the main outlet in Milwaukee for listening to that network.

During the daytime, WCFL would have provided good coverage to the Milwaukee area, but the situation was different at night. The radio columnist, Edgar A. Thompson, pointed out that listeners who wanted to hear the NBC symphony, conducted by Arturo Toscanini, especially in the northern suburbs of Milwaukee, would experience difficulty to to the 100,000 watt signal of Mexican station XEAW in Reynosa on 960 kilocycles.

The solution was to tune instead to KDKA Pittsburg on 980 kilocycles, where the columnist reported that he heard the entire concert on a five tube “midget” table radio with good reception.

XEAW was one of the “border blaster” stations in Mexico, broadcasting with powerful transmitters that blanketed North America from just across the Mexican border. XEAW was owned for most of the 1930’s by Dr. John R. Brinkley, a Kansas physician (with a degree from a diploma mill known as the Eclectic Medical University in Kansas City). Brinkley’s most famous cure involved an extract from goat testicles that would allegedly cure various maladies. By 1939, Brinkley had sold the station to Carr Collins, another practitioner of alternative medicine, whose “Crazy Crystals” from Mineral Wells, Texas, were reported to have various curative properties. It was probably Collins who was causing the interference to WCFL reported in this news item.

Brinkley owned at one time or another various of the “Border Blaster” stations in Northern Mexico, and he was quite well known throughout the United States. My dad recounted hearing Dr. Brinkley, and his broadcasts were apparently a source of amusement on the farm radio in Indiana. XEAW, weighing in at only 100,000 watts was one of the lower powered border blasters. Some operated with power of up to 500,000 watts. At one time, Brinkley was the owner of the most powerful radio station in the world,

The problems caused by the “Border Blasters” were largely solved in 1941 by the North American Radio Broadcasting Agreement. Unlike Canada and the United States, Mexico had never been assigned any “clear channel” stations, and it therefore had little incentive to rein in powerful stations like XEAW. The new agreement assigned clear channels to Mexico, on 800, 900, 1050, 1220, 1550, and 1570 kilocycles. To make room for the new channels, the broadcast band was extended upward from 1500 to 1600 kilocycles. As a result, most American stations changed frequencies (usually moving up the dial) the morning of March 29, 1941. At that point, WCFL moved from 970 to 1000 on the dial. It remained there as WCFL until 1987, when it became WLUP and later WMVP, which still inhabits 1000 on the dial.

Presumably, after 1941, WCFL’s listeners north of Milwaukee no longer had to worry about goat testicles interfering with their concert listening.

After the 1941 agreement, “Border Blasters” didn’t completely go away. For example, Wolfman Jack famously broadcast on XERF, Ciudad Acuña, Mexico, in the 1960’s. XERF went on the air in 1947 using the facilities of one of Brinkley’s old stations, which had been seized by the Mexican government in 1939 and had been dark for eight years. XERF, however, operated on 1570, in full compliance with the 1941 agreement assigning this channel to Mexico as a clear channel.

References

Border Radio at Texas State Historical Association

Border Blaster at Wikipedia

Soviet Amateur Radio 80 and 50 Years Ago

1934 station of U3EB, later reassigned call U1AP, Leningrad.

An Interesting article detailing Amateur Radio in the Soviet Union 80 years ago appeared in the October, 1934, issue of QST. If you’re an ARRL member logged in to your account, you can download the full article.

Even during the height of the Cold War, Amateurs in the Soviet Union communicated freely with Amateurs in the rest of the world, and they had a well-deserved reputation of being excellent operators, often dealing with severe equiipment limitations. An excellent 1965 MIT paper describing Soviet Amateur Radio during the Cold War is also available online.

The 1934 article was written by physicist John D. Kraus, W8JK (1910-2004). Kraus likens the state of Soviet Ham Radio as being roughly equivalent to that in the U.S. about a decade earlier. The typical receiver was either two or three tubes, with one serving as detector and the second as audio amplifier. A third tube as a tuned RF stage was popular. Transmitting tubes of 20-150 watts were available. Crystal control was becoming popular, but simpler designs were still more common. The most popular antenna was a single wire known as the “American type.”

The author noted that very few Russian hams spoke English or German, and that his Russian was also almost non-existent. During his travels, he normally made use of an interpeter, but he could often bypass the interpreter by whistling CW and using standard radio abbreviations.

WW2 Prisoner of War Broadcasts

Seventy years ago today, October 23, 1944, the Milwaukee Journal carried this item regarding the prisoner broadcasts that were being carried by the German and Japanese shortwave stations. The stations broadcast the names of, and sometimes personal messages from, Allied prisoners of war. Often, these broadcasts preceded any official notification.

The paper cautioned American families “not to accept” such messages, and certainly not to pay for them. The paper did note that the government monitored these broadcasts and would make official notification if warranted. But the paper did concede that these broadcasts were generally accurate, and that “well meaning persons and some well meaning busybodies have taken it upon themselves to notify friend and stranger alike when the name and address of a captured American serviceman pops up on the Berlin or Tokyo radio.”

This phemomenon was discussed in more detail in the book World War II Radio Heroes: Letters of Compassion by Lisa Spahr. As the title suggests, letters from listeners to the families were generally well received, and often represented the family’s first notification that the serviceman was captured and still alive. The author of that book wrote it after discovering 70 letters written to her great grandmother from shortwave listeners around the United States reporting that her son had been captured but was in good health. She was able to track down some of them, forming personal friendships with some of these “busybodies.”

Even though the article cautions families “not to be victimized by persons attempting to sell similar information,” I have never found reference to even a single case of anyone attempting to profit from notifying families, although one apparently asked for a postage stamp so that he could continue providing the service. The government did all it could to discourage the practice, even accusing one listener in Nebraska of being a Gerrman spy.

References

Book Review of Letters of Compassion

Book Website

Author’s Blog

Facebook Group

Radio Detector for a Dime

Radio and Boy Scouting share a long history, and in the early days of Scouting, radio played an important role. The October 1914 issue of Boys’ Life magazine shows this detector, guaranteed to bring in stations from 100 to 500 miles away, for only a dime. All that was needed was a telephone receiver and a wire on the roof. Even though this seemingly arcane piece of technology (consisting mostly of a lump of galena) would set the aspiring young wireless enthusiast back only a dime, he would probably find that the more familiar telephone receiver would be harder to come by. But that too was available, for fifty cents. But for sixty cents, the scout would have a radio that would pull in a strong signal.

Taking the Radio for a Swim, 1924

We’ve seen previously that the idea of taking the radio to the beach was a popular one in the 1920’s. We’ve seen people listening to the radio at the beach, dancing to the radio at the beach, and even taking the radio out in the canoe.

The young women shown here in the October 1924 issue of Radio News have taken it a step further by taking the radio out into the water. The caption notes that the bathers may listen in with complete comfort and sip cool drinks at the same time. The lifeguard in the background is presumably there to make sure the radio doesn’t fall in the water.

Bing Crosby Entertains Troops, 1944

Bing Crosby entertains troops in London, 1944. US Archives photo.

Seventy years ago today, the radio section of the Milwaukee Journal (October 17, 1944) reported on Bing Crosby’s four weeks in France, where he performed for the troops “under any and all conditions, during bombings and artillery barrages, and in any kind of weather.”

The singer reported that the handiest things for stages were often captured German trucks and trailers, and that some of the performances took advantage of captured German mikes and sound equipment.

The paper notes that the Vichy radio station was now in Allied hands and was being used for Allied broadcasts. There were, however, still some Germans holding out in the basement. “Rather than destroy the equipment by bombing, the Allies went right on broadcasting and were trying to starve the Germans into surrender.”

Radio Vichy’s leading voice wasn’t in the basement. Philippe Henriot, the “French Goebels,” was the leading propaganda voice coming from the Vichy station. He had been assassinated by the French resistance on 28 June 1944.

U.S. Orders Closing of Honolulu Marconi Station, 1914

In the early days of the Great War, the U.S. Government was struggling with how to deal with wireless stations in relation to U.S. neutrality. We’ve seen other examples of how they were dealing with communications in the Atlantic.

But the Pacific was also a theater of war, with Japan at war with Germany. In this news clipping from a hundred years ago today in the Bryan (Texas) Daily Eagle and Pilot (October 16, 1914), the U.S. Government had ordered the closing of the Marconi Company station in the Hawaiian Islands.

In violation of U.S. neutrality, the station had sent a message reporting the presence in Honolulu of the German gunship Geier. The U.S. had ordered the station closed unless the company could come up with a satisfactory explanation. Japanese warships were reportedly speeding toward Hawaii. The next day’s issue of the paper reported that the order to close the station was rescinded, the company having apologized for the breach of neutrality.

The ship was subsequently interned by the neutral United States. When the U.S. entered the war, the ship was seized by the U.S. Navy and became the USS Schurz. In 1918, the ship was rammed by a freighter, killing one crewman and injuring twelve. The ship was then abandoned and sank three hours later.

SMS Geier in 1894. German Federal Archive photo, via Wikipedia.