For Many years C.H.J. Snider, marine historian and author of 1309 columns entitled "Schooner Days" published in the old Toronto Evening Telegram, of which he was Editor at the time, travelled from Midland Ontario to Port Arthur on the last trip of the season (late November) on the grain carrier the Assiniboia with his good friend Capt. James McCannel. On Capt. McCannels retirement Snider continued this tradition.

Going up to Lake Superior in the steamer Robert P. Durham for the winter storage cargo of grain which she brought to Toronto in triumph - last of the navigation season of 1938 - C.H.J. Snider made the acquaintance of the newest and greatest accessory lake traffic had achieved, the radio telephone. He reported this in his column of December 24th, 1938. It is a story that should be of interest to all Amateur Radio operators.

"It costs to install, and it costs 10 cents a word to use after it is installed, if it is used for messages. And the Canadian tax or American tax comes on top of that. But ship to ship calls and ship to station calls are free. God bless the man who invented it, and a double blessing upon the man who put it into craft; for it has taken much of the peril out of lake navigation.

"It's a real lifesaver. When the writer was a boy, shipwreck causalities on the lakes used to mount to hundreds in a season. Thanks to the radio telephone that will never happen again. Hundreds of lives may yet be lost in some catastrophe like an earthquake or a tidal wave on the lakes, but the possibility of that is remote, this radio telephone makes it remoter still.

"It is the greatest boon to navigation since Noah boxed the compass. Some ships have, others are getting it, and none should be without it. It is as necessary as a lifeboat, and as useful as a rudder.

"First night out Capt. Finn introduced us to half a dozen captains and operators hundred of miles apart and we had cosy chats just as if we were at the front door or the fireside.

'There was VGB Toronto, VBH Kingston, VBB at the Soo, VBE Point Edward, VBA at Port Arthur; the Huronic, the City of Windsor, and Algorail, and the Laketon,Renvoyle, - steamers and stations scattered over a thousand miles of waterways in the December night. "All traded us reports on conditions and congratulated us on the fine weather we were having and the prospects of a good trip this time -

"Capt. Finn got weather conditions and positions from each and gave each a goodnight or good morning. He called Port Arthur, made arrangements for inspection and loading, and left messages to be transmitted to Arrow Steamship Limited, his owners. And got replies quickly. He had ordered fuel the same way at the Soo. No delay. From his telephone in the wheelhouse he lined up his program for the next twenty-four hours. Never once did he fail with a good night message home. That alone makes the radio phone worth its weight in gold. It dries half the tears of women who weep while their men work on the water.

"There were two fish tugs setting nets in Lake Erie at Rondeau, the Beverley R. Goodison and B. & H. We could hear them discussing conditions, and gave many a call later on when we got onto the orbit of their weather. They were most helpful.

"The procedure is simple. You hold a little cake of bakelite or gutta percha close to your mouth, press the knob at the top, and say "Calling steamer Algorail. Steamer Robert P. Durham calling steamer Algorail, Come in Please." And maybe the moment the knob is released you hear, "Steamer Robert P. Durham, steamer Robert P. Durham, steamer Algorail answering steamer Robert P. Durham. Over." And then you begin to talk, as man to man. You say "Over" when you expect a reply, and "signing off" with "Thank you," "Goodnight," or "Good morning," when you are through.

"We heard all sorts of one-way conversations and a few two-way ones, day and night in Superior, Huron, Erie and Ontario. Some American captain in Lake Michigan was discussing with his wife ashore what they would surprise Bobby with at Christmas. She was going to drive to the port where he was bound to meet him. Another American was hiking for an anchorage under the South Fox. It was blowing hard where he was, with snow. Most of the reports were most helpful, for they gave conditions anywhere from twenty to a thousand miles away and told us what to expect and how to shape our course to meet or avoid what was coming.

They say there is a fly in every ointment, and thee is one big bluebottle fly in the wireless telephone on the lakes. Its name is Oklahoma Sam, and he is cursed on every ship from spearpole to taffrail staff. Suppose two steamers are approaching in a snowstorm. Steamer A calls steamer B, to insure passing in safety. Steamer A gets the answer "Calling steamer A, calling steamer A, steamer B coming back. We are six"---

"Then there will be a toot and a squawk and a throaty voice will cut in "Satation Owe-Kay_Ess_Owe four, signal 60 signal six zero. Stolen car No. OJ3456, stolen car number zero-jay-three-four-five-six, engine number 1,072,529" and so on, with all the absorbing detail of the package of cigarettes in the back seat and a dent in the left front fender.

"In a gap, when it comes, steamer A will cut in again with an appeal to steamer B to "come in please" and give her position, and steamer B will start again and get half-way through, when Oklahoma Sam will barge in with another description of a tractor stolen from in from Tulsa town hall. The main industry in the state of Oklahoma appears to be either stealing cars or reporting them stolen. There are a few long winded descriptions of suicides, dope peddlers, homicides and arrests linked into the endless chain, but its body is made of cars stolen, recovered, abandoned or wanted. Morning noon and night. And that is what the air of the Great Lakes is filled with.

No matter how hard it snows.

"A & B, going it blind on converging courses, with the means of telling each other exactly where they are and how they are heading, are choked off like children with the hiccups. If they pass with out collision it is just bull luck. If they crash and one is still able to send out a cry for help she will not be able to get her position to the dozen steamers or stations within call, that might save forty lives. All because Oklahoma Sam is still broadcasting the numbers of stolen cars thousands of miles away.

"This comes about because the lake radio telephones and the Oklahoma police have wave lengths that coincide. Other police forces across the continent are able to radio within their own cities or states without spilling over and flooding out the Great Lakes. How about applying a little absorbent cotton to Oklahoma Sam, gentlemen of the Federal Communications Commission?"

FIRST WIRELESS AT SEA

BOB'S NAUTICAL DICTIONARY AND GLOSARY IS AVAILBLE 1800 950 7721

FIRST RADIO AT SEA

The first vessel to be fitted with WT (wireless telegraphy) was the East Goodwin Lightship in the mouth of the Thames River which enabled her in 1898 to be in contact with the South Foreland lighthouse , over a distance of 12 miles.

When the light ship was struck by a steamer and sunk a year later, in 1899, it was a wireless report to the shore station that enabled the crew to be saved.

This was a short distance and a small beginning to the tremendous ramifications to wireless at sea.

Dr. F.H. Prouse, Mainstay of the Mississauga Maritime Net

RESCUE AT SEA - AMATEUR RADIO

RESCUE AT SEA

Robert B. Townsend

Obtaining a radio message from an inexperienced operator with a serious problem at sea, by way of a relay station where the operator is not familiar with either nautical or medical terminology, coupled with accents and lack of ability to use the phonetic alphabet (Able Baker Charlie instead of A B C), in times of poor propagation, makes for interesting times at sea.

(My apologies for the long sentences).

This is a synopsis of a tale full of high drama that actually happened earlier this year - a tale of a U.S. Navy SEAL (sea-air-land special forces) parachuted 3000 feet to a yacht, started life saving intravenous antibiotics for the captain, and an airlift to Honolulu, 1000 miles away, all made possible by a Maritime Ham Radio Net. Indicating the value of Amateur Radio while offshore.

Ron Dubois, aboard a 42 ketch in Honolulu's Ala Wai Harbour had regularly checked into the Pacific Maritime Net. While listening to the net he heard a call from one of the regular check-ins to the net, Dave Barker, sailing a 46 foot sloop in the Pacific. Dave mentioned that he had got a nasty infection from a seemingly minor cut from a fish hook. The next day when Dave mentioned his leg was swelling and his temperature was rising and the situation was worsening, Dubois had Jerry, a retired emergency room physician, talk with Dave by way of a phone patch on the ham radio. When the Doctor heard Dave's symptoms - pus, a growing red streak, a high fever - he talked with doctors at the Tipler Medical Centre in Honolulu and alerted the Coast Guard's joint Rescue Command Centre.

The Coast Guard had to find a qualified paramedic who could jump out of an airplane, start an IV, take care of the patient and sail a boat 200 miles across the open ocean.

When the Paramedic, having jumped from a Navy plane, reached the injured skipper his temperature was 104 degrees; he was in critical condition.

They motored the 46 foot boat almost 200 miles to Christmas Island (That is an island that only has telephone service 8 hours a day, 5 days a week, and then must rely on Amateur Radio for communication with the outside world.) With fluids and medications, Bakers fever dropped to 100 degrees, still necessitating that he be flown to Honolulu for treatment in Hospital.

The Skipper's companion, Jan Mullen, not a licensed radio operator, remained with the boat in Christmas Island, while the skipper recovered in hospital in Hawaii, and then for the prolonged period of his convalescence before the doctors would allow him to return to his boat.

One of the net controllers of the Pacific Maritime Net made the comment about the nets involvement with many rescues of this type - "it can get really bizarre, when you get a Japanese fisherman injured and a Japanese skipper talking to a ham radio operator who can translate what they are saying into english, and then that interpretation gets relayed to the Coast Guard"

Fortunately the incident noted above was not bizarre, no language problems, just one of the many such incidents that occur offshore. Not unlike the time that the Late Bert Wilson, a (original?) member of the Whitby Yacht Club for many years before he decided to go cruising offshore, suffered severe burning while he was crossing the Atlantic, singlehanded. On that occasion Bert reported his position by way of his ham radio. The coast guard was notified, they diverted a ship, and Bert's life was saved. His Alberg 30 may still be floating around in the Sargasso sea.

MISSISSAUGA MARITIME NET

The Mississauga Maritime net started in 1989 when Dwight Hamilton took his boat South from Toronto's Harbourfront, and Amateur Radio enthusiasts, Doug Last and DR. Ernie Myer checked hsi progres daily at 7:45 a,.m., Toronto time on the 20 metre band, 14:121. 

This has expanded over the past 25 years  into a full time Maritime net which has followed sailors at sea (albeit mostly Canadian sailors) seven days a week.  With relay stations in Jamaica, Bermuda, the Maritimes, including Hearts Delight Newfoundland, the net has literally followed the progress of boats around the world.