on board. The first call of a station is always listened to with a thrill of expectation.
An incessant chatter of shore talk reaches every ship, but your boat, you will find, has no time for idle gossip. But let a faint call flash from the Atlantic, and every nerve is strained to catch it. From now on, you will be constantly picking up news from the incoming steamers, and their messages are certain to be interesting. When a steamer is far out on the Atlantic and out of direct communication with the stations near New York, it is cheaper to relay messages from one steamer to another than to send to the far northern stations, and have them cable New York. In other words, the steamers scattered along the ocean lanes are used as stepping-stones to communicate with New York and Europe.
About this time you may look for news from the steamers on “the banks,” as the region along the eastern shore of Newfoundland is called. Such news is of the greatest importance, and must be carried instantly to the captain, who makes his plans accordingly. The incoming steamer reports the weather, the presence of fogs or icebergs, and their exact location. News of this kind takes precedence over everything else, and the apparatus is tuned to catch these reports, whether it gets the regular messages or not.
Your wireless operator seems to be on the friendliest possible terms with all the wireless stations. The men are constantly changing about between the ships and the shore stations. To this group of operators the world seems small indeed. The men may not meet for years, and yet, in stations thousands of miles apart, their friendship is kept alive by almost constant conversation.
When Siasconset is dropped astern, the apparatus is attuned to the lonely station at [[Q2937147|]]. The steamer has been plowing steadily ahead for two days over the trackless ocean, but is still in almost instant communication with its last port. The wireless man will probably find time for a friendly word or two to cheer up the lonely watchers in these northern stations. The operator on one of our crossings explained that on his westward trip, a few days before, this station had been silent for as much as half an hour. There had been a slight accident to the machinery, and, in this isolated position, the wireless man must make his own repairs. Our operator understood perfectly, but he found time to ask his friend if the fishing were good, and received instantly an indignant reply.
RECEIVING A WIRELESS MESSAGE ON DECK.
After Cape Sable, the ship continues its shore messages through the wireless station at Sable Island. Our ship is far north now, and the wireless stations are well up toward the verge of the snows. If you have sailed out of New York on a hot summer’s day, it will be difficult to picture to yourself the man who is now talking to you, perhaps wrapped in heavy winter clothing, looking out on a field of ice. It is not uncommon to receive messages from the tropics and from the stations not. very far below the arctic circle at the same moment. If the operator wishes to do so, he can tune his instrument now to pick up the series of wireless stations scattered along the Labrador coast. These stations are not used by the transatlantic steamers, but work only with the vessels, sealing expeditions, etc., plying in these waters.
The good ship is now nearing the eastern-most point of North America, and at Cape RaceVol. XL.—7.
