VOICE of the MANAWATU

New Zealand Listener, Volume 34, Issue 872, 20 April 1956, Page 9

VOICE of the MANAWATU

A REPRESENTATIVE ‘of "The Listener" has lately been visiting the X-stations, and his impressions are to be published at fortnightly intervals. These will cover the stations and the districts they serve. They will show as far as possible how each station has taken its character from the people and the country around it, and something will be shown also of its daily routine as programmes are prepared and broadcast. But before the tour opens a visit must be paid to 2ZA, Palmerston North. This station has just moved into new premises, and the change-over was an event, both for the NZBS and for Palmerston North, which demanded attention. Afterwards the way lies south to Timaru, and then north again to Nelson, and across the Strait to the X-stations of the North Island. It passes through interesting country. ee ee ee he Pr a EE OD 4 Oe ee | ae) ae rig

you will probably find you are best adapted if you're reasonably fast on your feet. It’s not a matter of getting away from the cops, who are no more ravenous there than they are anywhere in New Zealand. But it holds for a mixture of reasons. First the area is one of diversified farming. The farmer has more choice in his growing and. grazing than, say, a farmer in Central Otago. So he’ll make a better living if he can jump fast to catch a market, or a new technique, like aerial topdressing l’ you live in the Manawatu

and oversowing, which 1s on the way to doubling and even trebling the -carrying capacity of the good Manawatu hill country. The citizen of Palmerston North, too, does well to be brisk off the mark. For one thing-the streets are wide, and pedestrians at light controlled crossings need to make a fast passage or the light will blink before they reach safety, and they'll have to exhibit really dazzling footwork to dodge the onrushing cars and trucks. And for another thing, business in the city has a reputation for being vigorously competitive, with aie 2 ’

young, rising firms dancing on the toes of the well established, thus forcing them in turn to move with agility. Of course, if you work in radio in Palmerston North, the nature of the

job, as anywhere, demands fast cornering and straight-away dash, but lately the staff of 2ZA have shown the sort of speed that makes a small bet for a win seem a wise investment. Their

training ‘tasks have ine cluded a move in premises, and the distance from point A to point B has been annihilated so often it’s a wonder the space-time continuum still functions. 2ZA, as a going concern,, dates back to 1938, a year close to the edge of history for New Zealand commercial radio; beyond that is a dim twilight era of hearsay, hopes, subscription drives, lobbying, makeshift gear and private enthusiasm for a cause which turned out to be public. 2ZA was the first provincial commercial station; after it came the war and a long gap in_ building. When it went on the air first, it worked for the milking shed and _ the early housewife in the mornings, and for dad and the family in the evenings. These hours (6.0 am.-9.30 am. and 6.0 p.m.-10.0 p.m.) were fair enough for a start in

a community where business was interested in selling to farm people. Also, with these hours, it was possible to fit the staff into the available accommodation. More

broadcasting hours, inevitable in a fast-growing region like the Manawatu, meant more staff. Thus quite early in life 2ZA was under two roofs, starting to follow the example set by Wellington, where broadcasting has as many scattered roofs. as a decentralised

housing settlement. Even with accounts, sales, copy and women’s hour in a far-off place, there wasn’t any too much room round about the studio and control room. Shows (continued on next page) |

VOICE OF THE MANAWATU

(continued from previous page) which required the presence of a studio audience were occasionally enlivened when someone fainted in the crush. So far as is known, this never happened to an announcer; like Himalayan mountaineers, 2ZA announcers became acclimatised to lack of oxygen. The increasing use of tape recorders added a few more difficulties, There" were two ways of recording: (1) Choose a time when a recorded feature (usually fifteen minutes) was being broadcast on the control-room turntable, and dash into the studio to make as much of the time as possible. Sound insulation | wasn’t too good, however, and bits ‘of the feature usually filtered in. (2) Choose a time when the Station Manager wasn’t in his office (or just chase him out into the street), and record there. But this room, besides being disputed territory, was not acoustically perfect either, and not all recordings | are improved by the sounds of a bust- | ling town; train whistles and such. The 2ZA staff were not happy about the quality of their recordings, and they pointed out they could do better all round with more room to work. In time, as these things tend to come about, the principle of new premises was approved. The NZBS bet on the future of Palmerston North by buying rather than renting a building -about 300 yards from 2ZA’s original home. Tradesmen were called in to fit out the framework, and by November 30, 1955, the framework was ready to take the gear which would make the building a radio station. ‘ W. P. Huggins, NZBS Senior Engineer in charge of installations, sent a team to Palmerston North under H. W. Nixon, whose last job of this nature had been three years ago at 2XP, New Plymouth. The installation took two and a half months, and amongst other things, used up three and a half miles of lead cable. One of the fancier operations was moving the 83-foot mast for the emergency transmitter, which stood on the roof of the old building. As it

was not possible to get this into the lift and out of the building as it stood (the lift was an obsolescent, non-ex-panding type), it had to ‘be stripped right down, moved 300 yards down Broadway, and reassembled on the new roof. This was completed within two weeks, using conventional tools like wrenches, rather than helicopters and ice axes. The mast is doing the same job as it was on the old building: acting as aerial for the 2 kw. emergency transmitter, but with the new electronic gear installed in this building the transmitter can be controlled from’ the studio panel in case of failure in the main transmitter, instead of the previous method of control from the transmitter site, which entails long breaks in transmission. Technical refinements abound in these studios, Much preliminary work was done in the way of acoustic measurement, so that the correct placing of dampening and resonant materials in the walls, floor and ceiling will. ensure that the acoustic properties come near the ideal for the purpose and dimensions of the rooms. The microphone switches controlled by the announcers have complex functions: in fact, they seem to do everything but lock the doors and set off the burglar aldrms. There are the wellknown red lights, of course, discouraging casual visitors from entering and making irrelevant talk in front of an open microphone. The microphone ‘switches also cut off the speakers of the talk-back communications system, of which there is one in each room. The announcer’s telephone is _ forbidden to ring merrily, or even buzz, at the wrong moment. When the announcer’s microphone is open, a green light shows on the telephonist’s board ‘at the reception desk, so the receptionist will know:that she cannot put a phone call through to the announcer. In the: same way, a white light shows. when the microphone in the main. studio is. open. From the control oan the iechibdidien can give cues with a _ switch which

blinks the desk light near the announcer’s microphone. And, of course, it is the technician who is in the position to have the last word in any argument, because on his panel are the remote controls of the unattended transmitter, ; There are also other marvels: an air conditioning system with thermostatic temperature control,- and additional steam radiator heating when necessary. Every room has a monitoring speaker, from which may be heard, if so desired, the programme from---2ZA. All record turntables are three speed (3313, 45 and 78 r.p.m.), and the firm's records are safeguarded by a delightful device known as the viscous damped arm. The player arm, with the head holding the needle, can be safely let go inches above the record, and will sink gently down, instead of falling with a crash. The clue to this lies in the word viscous: the grease lubricating the vertical movement of the arm is so tacky that slow movement is inevitable, This equipment took a little time and training before it became familiar. Wallace Smith, 2ZA’s Senior TechniCian, discussed the move as it had affected him. His problem had been simply to sign off the air at 10.30 p.m. from one building and open transmission at 6.0 a.m. next day from another, The days were Monday, March 26, and Tuesday, March 27. Not much heavy equipment had to be moved; the new building had its own gear. A large tape recorder, weighing about 5 cwt. was trucked over early on Tuesday morning and plugged into its place in the new set-up. The Post Office had changed the station telephone connections on Monday night. On Monday morning one of Mr. Nixon’s team took over operation of the control panel in the old building so that 2ZA’s technicians could have two hours’ coaching from Mr. Nixon in the new control room, There were more rehearsals between 10.30 p.m. and midnight on Monday, when a modulation test was made of the new equipment right through to the transmitter. At 6.0 a.m. on Tuesday, the new station was on the air. For the Programmes Department, the big day was Saturday, March 24. E. A. Svenson, the Programme Organiser

had made his measurements and- preparations. What remained to be done was the cartage of, say, 20,000 records. This took from 8.30 a.m. to 7.0 p.m. Professional movers took the furniture across, and for the first hour and a half they used the lift at the old building while the station staff carried bins of records down two floors by the stairway. There are also stairs up to the programme department in the new building, twenty-three of them. Kay Rankin, who runs’ 2ZA’s Women’s Hour, and Pamela Rutland, the Shopping Reporter, sitting in their new carpeted room, the walls and ceiling of orchid pink, grey and turquoise, had something to say of the Saturday operations. Mrs. Rankin whipped up a large batch of scones and had them at the scene by morning tea time. The boys were flagging, she recalled. The stairs were taking their toll. However, morning tea and the use of the lift at the old building helped them along. The ladies attended to the moving problems of their own department, and in spite of one cupboard flying open in transit, were soon safely installed, By 5.0 p.m. the boys were staggering, the scones long finished, and another two hours’ work in prospect. In all, the van they used to transport the records made 15 trips, but vans don’t go up stairs. ‘Charles Carey, the Advertising Salesman, had no records in his office equipment, but he had deadlines to meet. He moved .at noon on Friday, March 23, working as he went, and was ready for business and dealing with his first customer at 3.0 p.m, K. W. Donaldson, 2ZA’s Station Manager, better known in the Dunedin area where he started his radio career as Don Donaldson, has been at 2ZA since 1948. He managed to run a happy ship even in the old building, where he suffered with the rest in cramped conditions, Now he has space in his office, a pleasantly modernistic frontage to the building, and a view through his side windows of the centre of Palmerston North, the people moving nimbly and. purposefully about their business, in which he, and 2ZA, take a full share, (An article on Station 3XC Timaru will appear in "The Listener’ of May 4.)