What's on the air (Nov 1929-Feb 1931)

Page 6 WHAT'S ON THE AIR Chain broadcasting, which made its appearance about this time, also helped to cramp the style of the "distance hounds." The same program carried by fifteen or twenty stations scattered over the country could be heard from a local. So most listeners formed the habit of sticking with the local most of the time. But the DXer did not die out. He comes of too hardy stock, and the urge which drives him is too strong. After the rest of the family called it an evening, he continued to steal an hour or two from Morpheus for his dial wanderings. He began foregathering with kindred spirits in organized DX clubs, and, whenever a new receiver was bought, he put in a plea for something with the ability to go out and fetch 'em in. Now, all this perseverance has been rewarded. Most listening is still to local or near-by stations, on the basis of program content. But more people than ever before — even including not a few women — twirl their dials part of the time simply to "get stations." For proof of this, there is the action of the Federal Radio Commission in setting aside forty frequencies for the exclusive use of high-power stations, in order that better distance reception may be provided. Also, note how many receiver manufacturers make distance-getting ability an important talking-point for their products. Yes, the "DX hound," far from being dead, is more alive than at any time since broadcasting began its meteoric history, not only because he has better tools to work with (present-day receivers and transmitters are many times superior to those of even three or four years ago) , but because fishing for distance is, after all, the real sport of radio. Reception of a station two thousand miles away may not be as perfect as that of a station fifty or one hundred miles away. But no true DXer cares about that. Hearing it gives him the heady elation of quest, the high adventure of blazing his own trail across continents, the quickening zest of turning aside from the well-worn road; and, against a background of daily routine, such an experience stands out in fresh relief. It is for these reasons that the writer is glad to be an, at times, irrepressible DXer. He makes no claims to world's records. But his experience may have uncovered some pointers which will prove of value to those who thus far have not had a fling at the sport, or whose results are not all that they desire. So he is presuming to offer a few suggestions looking to bigger and better DX reception. Distance reception depends on three factors — the receiver, atmospheric conditions and the operator — and, mathematically, these three work out to about the following relative importance: receiver, 40 per cent.; atmospheric conditions, 40 per cent.; skill of the operator, 20 per cent. A moment's thought should show that the first two are of about equal importance. The most sensitive receiver is useless if atmospheric conditions are such that only local reception is possible; and, conversely, the most favorable conditions will avail nothing if the receiver is "haywire." But what many beginners seem to overlook is that the operator also plays an important part in getting results. However, more on that presently. First, as regards the receiver. It must be good, of course, which means a recent model of any of the better makes. But a good receiver includes more than the actual chassis, tubes and loud-speaker. It must include an efficient aerial and ground, something which many fans seem to forget. A DX aerial need not be long. Fifty feet, including lead-in, is ample for a present-day set, and will give better selectivity and less interference than the old 100 to 125 footer. But it must be well insulated and run in the best direction. Next, as to atmospheric conditions. The most capricious woman is a gem of consistency compared with them. They may reverse themselves in the space of one or two hours — sometimes even more suddenly — for no reason that can be deciphered. So the only practical rule is "strike while the iron is hot." Now regarding the operator. On the face of things no particular skill should be required to coax a modern simplified receiver to "do its stuff." But to get the most from a fine receiver considerably more operating skill is demanded than might appear. First, the operator must have patience. He must be prepared to wait through static blasts and fading cycles for the all-important call letters, provided they are ever announced — a point on which fans have growing doubts in many cases. And, perhaps most important of all, he must conserve his attention powers by holding volume to a practical minimum. A nice bit of applied psychology is involved here. With modern high-power amplification, most listeners are accustomed to considerable volume, and, to get distance, they naturally turn the control still higher. As a result, their sense of hearing tends to respond only to loud signals, causing the weak voices of far-away stations to be unintelligible. The remedy is to hold volume down to the point which will just bring in the desired station, until announcements are to be made. Then it can be turned up momentarily, with a surprising increase in the ear's sensitiveness, besides saving the nerves of other members of the family. In fact, this one simple trick can be counted on to add several good catches to the string duly recorded in the old log-book, when aided by a good break in the other factors mentioned. It's a great game, if you can do without sleep. But what certified DXer cares about sleep when a new set of call letters can be added to his list?