Radio Broadcast - 1924, January - 84 Pages, 8.2 ... - VacuumTubeEra

20ORadio Broadcastfleeting the flames of our lamps. Outside,Green River was low, and therefore Echo Riverwas low. It was remarkably transparent, too,giving one the feeling that the clumsy boatwas, by some magic, being floated upon air.The time was approaching for another radioconcert, and we began to prepare for it. Here,with the very best of ground connections byletting down our iron bar to the bed of theriver we felt sure of success.Both pairs of phones were on our heads whenthe hour came. We listened. We tuned. Welistened again, and again we tuned.The disappointmenton our faces was reflected in thesceptical smile of our guide. But the test wasnot all failure this time, because we caught theclear, sharp whistle of the WHAS carrier wave.That was all, however; and when the time wasup this abruptly ceased.Once more we began diligently to investigatethe cause of this partial failure. We hadachieved something by catching the carrierwave. But, if the carrier wave, why not thevoice and music? We finally hit upon a reasoncertainly plausible, and one that after eventsstrengthened. In our position on Echo River,with roof and sides simply dripping moisture,we were as a matter of fact sealed within athoroughly wet apartment as though in adiving bell on the ocean bed and the electromagneticwaves were sponged out by thiscondition. Our receiving set and aerial werebeing insulated from the WHAS wave as effectuallyas if they were in an iron box withall parts grounded, for everything about ustop, sides, bottom was grounded by the saturatedcondition of the rocks and soil.It required courage to tell the guide that ourfailure this time was due to ioo much moisture!We had left the hotel about ten o'clock in themorningand it was now after three. Theregular afternoon concert would, begin fromWHAS at four, and if we did not catch anythingthen we would have to wait until half pastseven, as nothing had been arranged betweenthis and the night concert hour. So we chainedthe boat to its landing, took up our packs andstarted in search of another promising spot.It seemed that we had walked nearly a milewhen, immediately at our feet, the flickeringlamps showed a moist spot in the soil. Thislooked hopeful because the ceiling and wallswere dry, and with good cheer we drove downthe iron spike as far as it would go. The loopaerial, too, was set, our compass giving us thedirection of Louisville.ECHO RIVER, FAR DOWN IN MAMMOTH CAVEWhere the author's second attempt to receive signals from Louisville was made