NIGHT WATCH WITH "SPARKS"

Dominion, Volume 12, Issue 254, 22 July 1919, Page 7

NIGHT WATCH WITH "SPARKS"

: 4 IN A WIRELESS CABIN AT SEA VOICES OF THE AIR (By "Short Wave," in the Melbourne "Age.") Jim Harvey, radio-telegraphist crosses the deck and opens his cabin door. A square.of light, warm and yellow, falls on. the glistening deck for an .instant.; then darkness again, as the door is quickly slammed. In tho cabin the operator throws off his'mac., hanging it to drain behind the door, chucks his soaked cap into a, corner, and crosses to the steam heater, which, irierrily bubbling and sizzling, radiates the grateful warmth which fills tho rpom. Nearby lie a pair of old felt slippers, warmed through and through, and, slipping off his-boots, Itarvey pulls them over his heavv woollen socks (a present from his mother, bless her), and does a step-ilanco at the glowing warmth. On the table" is a cup of steaming cocoa, placed there by, the night steward. Dropping into liis swivel chair, Jim grabs the • cup and gulps the contents down, gasping and blowing, at the scalding heat of it; : "Ah," ho says, with a grateful sigh, as lie finds no "blisters on his tongue, "a cigarette, and theii (o work.' 1 . ■ A paper, a pinoh. of tobacco, and the cigarette is made. Leaning . forward in the chair, Jim clicks over a switch, and, in front of him, tho small globe of his long-range receiver glows, faintly. Another switch is moved over; then Jim picks up-the telephones which, attached to' their head-band,'lie upon the table. Slipping them over his head, he adjusts the..ear-pieces, fitting them snugly on, nnd," pulling' forward a scribbling pad, listens-- .. A fliint crackling is heard; now loud, now faint, a loud click-click, then a long, hissing.k-r-m-str Atmospherics, or, for short, X's, the curse of all good.radio operators. To-night they are-fairly mild; good strength, as he would say." Now, .there is a paradox. X's are good strength when they are faintest, best when they are not at all, hut sigs., that is to say, "communications duly received by radiotelegraphy," are best when they're loudest, and if they are "noil est" there is the devil to pay. . . Hullo, here's something coming. Tut-tut-tut-tahli, tut-tut-tiiWalih, the last sound drawn out, It-tt-tt-ta, faster and f«'stei\ It is a station getting limber before sonding a call quivering into the night. _' Unscathed .through xtlie storm, the V's come, striding the blast, clarion, and exacting attention; it is a French station awav in Hie Mediterranean sending his nightly weather report. Ah, he's started writing, liis pencil, caught in the light of tho little wonder lamp, throws, weird, distorted • shadows over the paper as it flies along. Thfe message is. addressed (o all stations. In French, too. But hero comes the English;- , ) _ "Ocean forecast—Sea glassy, wind light, glass steady. Ends." ' . The crackling note of a Brazilian station the diaphragm-of the 'phones, flinging broadcast from her vibrating aerials u message, important ho doubt to its intended recipient, but jargon to those whose iudiscriinin.iling aerials convey it through coils, and tubes, and,'wires to the 'phones. Vying with it is a Portuguese station, shrilly endeavouring to drown a heartless American ship who, with nasal , lone, persists in discussing baseball news with some distant craft too far away for Jim to hear. Hoarse as a crow, a rusty funnelled trump from God knows where is endeavouring to tell the wil-eyed operator in a French West African station that he wants' SGO tons of coal, coal,coal! Pure as an organ a French coast stations throws.in her note and asks a worried operator to "Pleose speak French. No Eiielish." His answer, spanging, alert,'and solid, a real John Bull flashes back, "Please wait," and then he rushes vainly round, looking for the ex-soldier who, rumour untruthfully savs, "Parleyvous like a native." He,'wise man,;'makes himself 'very scarce, for ",Bon saute, Vih. blane." lind ' Voolv-voo promenriy, inamselle?" Iho' all sufficient, at certain times,' will not assist, in obtaining "Course itnd bearings," from a man who has no English. _ , Shrill nnd high, a German station, arrogant and clipped in speech, is holding a conference with a .fellow-country-man. But I liis latter mail's note is sad. and in a very minov. key; elonuenv nf shorn wings, and pride that had a fall. He tries to talk, but deep, sonorous, a mighty basso, British might calls, dominating all. He commands attention, and one by one the clamouring .-Inlions ceases their babel, and steadily JVws the coded message from n British li-an o' war. The'flying hand on the di'lanl key makes no error, no stumble here, no sharp erase and quick repeat; surely, the message cleaves its way, spurning the storm, urgent, and imperious,.' Suddenly. a pause, then vehement and commanding, flies broadcast the dread call: "All stations. Be silent! 5.0.5.", A silence," save for the grumbling crackle of the X's, trying, even now, to thwart the prayer of.souls in danger. "Save us or we perish !" Even as the terrified followers of tho Christ cried across the water, so comes the call from the ship which has been wounded by the storm. _• "Hatches stove in; cargo shifted;, send immediate assistance!" Willing stations takes up the cry, answered even as that ancient, prayer, and mod a staunch-built tug flies. Speeding to .the. rescue, where desperate men are lighting a hopeless, battle .against the storm. A. battle lo save then' ship from the maw of. the ageloss sea;, relentless and ernal; I he terrible 'mistress of those men who,' openeyed, go down to the. sea in their ship?. Here is drama: tense, the operators within thnt net. flung from Ihe jinking ship, wait, silent, ready to do all that is needed of them, bearing in their hands a line'of hope ready to lie tiling to some despairing soul. The drama, is played out, tho lives are saved! for, through tho night conies another, "All's well!" but intoned now in a major key, a paean of triumph, which rings in all tho anxious ears. A pause, then faintly, very faintly, comes a- distant voice, .(/ape Pace, five thousand miles awav, is hurling his .accumulated traffic across Ihe Atlantic. Another ■ station chimes in, is drowned by one .louder still, and babel breaks loose again. < '. A glance at the clock, and Jim, nritli a few quick adjustments to liis gear, is readf to take the nighlly budget of Press radiated from the little island of Ascension. All is silent so far, nnd ,Tim listens to the steady throb, throb, counting the revolutions of the tireless engines far beneath. Heave and roll; for Ihe first time he notices the movement of the ship. He swings hack and forward and grabs his pencil just in lime, as the Bulwer stands on her nose with stern reared high. A shudder passes through her frame as the propeller races ,madly; then a. torrent of water goes seething past his cabin. But here conies ''Ascension." A. musical note I his', not too high, but clear as a bell. . Scratch suh-r-rrr goes the flying pencil, flick goes a sheet of paper filletl with closely-written news. Gee. he's raiting to-night. Ah, "Ends." That's all. A presis of all Ihe news of the day. and how welcome aboard, you, who have not roamed over (lie Inc'i- of thi.?'oi<l world of ours, can never imagine. Woe In lln- operalor if there is not a neatlyfolded sheet on the master's plate al breakfast! The "roar" is general all over lII'.- ship, even the youngest apprentice looks halefiillv at Ihe man who missed the news, and life is a misery until lie redeems himself with a glorious two-page budget of "Press." But the time has flown along, and suddenly eighl . bells clang ou,t on the bridge. Flinging off Ihe 'phones. Jim jumps to his feet and gives a huge vawn. A curtain separates him from the liviugroom. He tears this aside, and, with a noisy laugh, flicks oil the lights and yells— "Tumble out there, you lazy beggar; eight bells has gone!" All awful groan anil a grunt, and the tousled head of l.is pal appears from Ihe ■lower of the two bunks built again;! Ihe bulkhead. "Ilow'rc sigs?" "Good," says Jim, pulling on his pyjamas, his clothes in a heap where he llune them off. ■"Ifow're X.'s?" "Middling, old thing. They're gelling worse! Ah, it's hoi.zer in blink!" "Lucky beggar. If you look so beastly

happy I'll pull you out. Woll, nightnight!" • "G'night; Knock out that light, and that curtain—pull it across. Thanks."