The Amateur Amateur: The HF Chronicles--EC-001 and Contacting NTS
By Gary Hoffman, KB0H
Contributing Editor
December 10, 2002
"We unbolted the same bolts we'd struggled with before. We lowered the
unwieldy mast that we'd lowered and raised on so many occasions."
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My wife, Nancy, N0NJ, and I once again found ourselves on the roof of our
house. We unbolted the same bolts we'd struggled with before. We
lowered the unwieldy mast that we'd lowered and raised on so many
occasions. We carefully handled the awkward but delicate antennas
that had jabbed, stabbed, and cut us so many times in the past. Yes,
it was time to try something new. Here's why.
Nancy and I had
enrolled in one of the ARRL's Emergency Communications course--taken
on-line under the League's Certification
and Continuing Education (C-CE) program. Going in, we
did not realize that our homework assignments (yes, there's
homework!) would be quite so demanding. That wasn't necessarily a bad
thing. It showed that the course was serious and that we were really
expected to learn something. In fact, the only assignment that almost
stumped us was contacting a National Traffic System (NTS) net.
NTS is an ARRL
organization run. I don't know the history of the NTS.
I suspect that it goes way back to when most ham communications were
fairly short range, and the "Relay" in "American Radio
Relay League" actually meant something. The NTS still relays
telegram-like messages all around the country.
One of the key things we learned in the emergency communications course
was "service." During emergencies, we would not be flying
helicopters, directing traffic, giving instructions to firefighters,
or talking to the press. We would most likely be sitting in a cramped
corner shooing away spiders and passing messages from one agency to
another. Working with the NTS, it seemed, was excellent preparation
for the task of handling such messages.
Initially, the homework assignment didn't seem too difficult. We had to write a
message, properly format it for transmission, then check into an NTS
net and ask to have the message relayed. Right away I discovered that
there was no NTS net in the St Louis area. There is a Missouri NTS
net on the 80-meter band, but, unfortunately, none of its operators
could hear me. Here's kind of how it went.
NTS Net Control: Does anyone else wish to check in?
Me: "KB0H in St. Louis."
NTS Net Control: Nothing heard, we'll move on to announcements.
Second NTS Operator: "Wait, Bill, there was someone calling. All I
caught was 'KB' something."
NTS Net Control: "Station calling, go ahead."
Me: "KB0H
in St. Louis. I have traffic."
NTS Net Control: "Can anyone hear him?"
Second NTS Operator: "I can tell that he's there, that's all."
I was not able to
reach anyone in Missouri. My high-frequency (HF) setup was not just
less-than-optimal; it was absolutely abysmal. I checked everything in
my shack to see if anything was poorly connected or had an incorrect
setting. I found nothing obvious. I sat and pondered my operating
procedures. One thing did come to mind.
I should have talked
louder.
That's not as
stupid as it might sound. During an FM transmission the power level
of the transmission is essentially constant--since you're not
modulating the carrier. During single-sideband (SSB) operation--which
is just a form of amplitude modulation--your output is directly
related to how loudly you speak (or, in corollary fashion--how high
you have the audio gain control set on your transceiver).
I had been
speaking with my "FM voice" when I had tried to contact the
Missouri NTS net!
I called the net
again the next night and used my best racetrack-announcer voice. This
time the net control station could hear me, but not well enough to
copy my message. Back to the La-Z-Boy for another bag of pretzels and
more pondering.
I phoned my Elmer
(my brother, Chris) and explained my difficulties to him. He asked a
lot of questions about my radio, antenna configuration, and operating
procedures. He did not care for my bird-house-over-a-canister-style
antennas. He tried to describe radiation patterns to me, but since he
was not there in person to draw cartoons figures on a blackboard, he
quickly lost me. I did, however, get the main idea: Six antennas at
the top of one mast was a really bad idea.
Antenna clutter. It seemed like a good idea at the time.
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So, there we
were up on the roof. Our rooftop visits were becoming such a regular
occurrence that I was thinking of building a permanent tool shed up
there. Anyway, we removed three of the six antennas. Two of the
remaining antennas were supposed to be able to tolerate each other's
presence, and the third, I hoped, would be far enough above them that
it wouldn't cause any problems. We also decided to add another five
feet to the mast.
Half an hour
later it became obvious that the universal mast section we were
trying to install wasn't universal. We made the necessary
adjustments, got down from the roof, apologized to the neighbors for
all the cursing and banging, then went inside to bandage our injuries.
That night I
tried again to contact the Missouri NTS net. Success! Most of the net
operators heard me, although they gave me strange signal reports such
as "15." One of them was able to copy me well enough to
accept my message. Mission accomplished. The homework assignment was
done!
Nancy and I
completed and passed the emergency communications course. It was
clear to me, however, that my HF station was close to useless and
needed some serious modifications. I had some very long talks with my
brother (still without benefit of cartoon figures on a blackboard). I
decided that I would have to take his advice and put up something
that "grabbed the sky" a lot better than my current oddball
antennas. I started making a list. I needed more parts, better
grounding, another conduit from the basement to the attic, more
coaxial cable, and <
sigh> more visits to the roof.
Now I just had to figure out how to break the news to Nancy.
(Author's
note: Don't despair. I finally did get my HF act together
and will describe how in a future column.)
Editor's
note: ARRL member Gary Hoffman, KB0H, lives in Florissant,
Missouri. He's been a ham since 1995. Hoffman says his column's name
-- "The Amateur Amateur" -- suggests the explorations of a
rank amateur, not those of an experienced or knowledgeable ham. His
wife, Nancy, is N0NJ. Hoffman has a ham-related
Web page. Readers are invited to contact the
author via email.
© 2002 American Radio Relay League