Men With Earphones Add to Safety at Sea

Manawatu Times, Volume 64, Issue 111, 13 May 1939, Page 11

Men With Earphones Add to Safety at Sea

NEW YORK—When the SOS crackles out of the night and lives are in peril at sea, among the unsung heroes are quiet, prosaic men in snug buildings all along America’s coasts —the men with the earphones. Hour after hour they crouch by their humming apparatus, straining ears for elusive dot-dash signals, twisting dials to clear away bursts of static, and deciphering the fragmentary facts and figures that mean life or death. Here's how the radip men work: Recently a freighter, battered by storms 1,300 miles out on the Atlantic, sent a feeble SOS. The message was picked up by a radio station at Thomaston, Maine, and relayed to New York. A few minutes later the SOS was heard by a station at Chatham, Mass. The Italian liner, Vulcania, fearing the Parklaan's radio might not be heard far, relayed the signal to shore and nearby ships, which immediately started to the Parklaan f s aid. Soon messages from the ship were jotted down in stations all along the coast —at Thomaston, Catnam, Long Island points and Norfolk. When tho Danish ship, Svend.Pil, off the stormy coast of jFrance, sent out an S O S a few minutes the message was picked,up on repay from a station in Italy, among others.

I The men wearing the earphones who [detect the whining signals are operators jof the coast guard and commercial radio (Companies. The coastguard operators [ordinarily confine themselves to straight SOS calls within the range of coast guard boats, aud to minor emergencies like wirelessing advice for treatment of injured sailors.

The principal commercial companies are Mackay Radio, an affiliate of Postal Telegraph, and Radio-marine, an offiliate of the Radio Corporation of America. Tropical Radio, a subsidiary of the United Fruit Company, covers tho Caribbean and Central America. Tho main officers of most of them are in downtown Manhattan, and the messages are sent in from the out-of-town receiving stations on teletype machines. The crash of the flying boat, Cavalier, at sea called all the services into play, along with the special wireless equipment of Pan-American and Imperial Airways. A steady stream of messages flowed into the Coast Guard Headquarters at the Battery here, from dozens of Coast Guard boats and planes and other rescue craft. Reports were charted and out flowed the directions which saved 10 of the 13 aboard. Several Coast Guard operators were on duty for 24 hours at a stretch during the crisis—but thought nothing of it because they’d done “tricks” as long as 96 hours. It* an S O S. whines through, the channel is kept clear until the emergency passes. During the Cavalier crash, tho “silent” period was extended for 12 hours—from the SOS. 1.40 a.m. the next day—a record in the memory of local operators. The commercial radio companies play an active part in most marine emergencies because through them ships try up to the last minute to make arrangements for commercial assistance, from silter ships of their company or hired salvage tugs. 'When the Greek freighter, Di amantis, was in distress a few nights ago, a reporter called one radio office to find out about one of the ship’s messages. Tho man who answered the phone yelled: “Sorry—I can’t give you that right