Our Antenna Is Bigger Than Yours

The "BAT" Tower on approach.  Photo by J. Lewter

   Dover, Arkansas is primarily known for its water adventure spots like Big Piney Creek and the Long Pool swimming hole, and for its mysterious phenomenon called the Dover Lights. Less well known is the fact that there is a world-class radio tower just seven miles west of the city. 

   In the 50's and 60's, AT&T built microwave towers across the country to serve as phone lines over vast stretches of land. They were called "Long Lines," and they supported long distance and international phone calls. One of these towers was placed near Dover, where it could send and receive microwave data to and from its sister towers in Petit Jean and Clarksville.

   Like may structures made during the Cold War Era, the towers were built to withstand the radiation fallout from a possible nuclear war (provided that the actual explosion was at least five miles away from the towers.) Concrete buildings shielded with copper were built near the base of the towers to serve as fallout shelters, and the buildings were equipped with diesel generators to keep things going no matter what happened.

   Eventually the microwave towers were replaced with a different technology. Fiberoptic cables could support a larger bandwidth to meet the growing demand for Internet accessibility. Many of the original towers still exist today, but they are either used as cell phone towers, or private citizens have purchased them for personal use. 

   In 2001, Dennis Schaefer and five of his friends did just that. The 113-foot-tall tower near Dover has become the pride and joy of six ham operators who regularly host radio contests at their station. They installed a huge, rotating, high frequency (HF) antenna at the top of the tower, as well as a very high frequency (VHF) antenna , an ultra high frequency (UHF) antenna, and there are currently three dipole antennas attached to the tower. "You need a separate antenna for each frequency band," explained Schaefer, a former Air Force microwave technician. 

   Depending on the daily ionospheric conditions, a radio operator at the station can talk to nearly any other radio station in the world, including Antarctica. The men are very happy to have visitors come see the tower and participate in the annual radio contests. "My wife said, 'This is like deer camp for nerds,'" said Schaefer. 

   The call sign for the station is K5BAT, which was hand-picked by the owners. Formally, the "BAT" means "Big Arkansas Tower," but in reality, when ladies and children are not present, it stands for "Big Ass Tower." 

   One of AT&T's mottos has been, "Communications is the foundation of democracy." In the past, there were certain countries (like Vietnam) that American hams were forbidden to contact. Today, however, there is no such thing as a "banned country list." 

   When asked why he wanted to own such a beast of a radio tower, Schaefer replied, "Everybody wants bigger antennas." And their antenna is bigger than yours. 

Up close and personal with the "BAT." Photo by J. Lewter

The Secret Life of a Submariner

The U.S.S. Sand Lance - a Sturgeon-class attack submarine - was commissioned in 1971 and decommissioned in 1998. The boat was 292 feet long and could dive to 1300 feet.
 

 Not many people get the opportunity to live and work inside a real submarine. I remember watching a Navy officer give a presentation at my college in 1996. I asked him about life on the submarines, and he pointed out that women weren't allowed in the program. I didn't give submarines much thought after that. (Why bother?)
  Many years later, I met George Baer, a former nuclear-trained electronics technician (reactor operator) from the Navy. He served on a Sturgeon-class attack sub (SSN-660) from January 1974 until November 1976. When I asked about his experiences aboard the impressive deep-water metal death machine, he summed it up in one word: "cramped."
    The submarine, named the U.S.S. Sand Lance, had one propeller (called the "screw" by the sailors), which was driven by a S5W nuclear reactor and two steam turbines. The screw had 7 blades, although a 5-blade screw could propel the submarine faster. The reason was simple: "The whole thing about submarines is stealth," explained Baer. A 5-blade screw cavitates more than a 7-blade screw, which would make more noise underwater. Cavitation is a phenomenon you may remember from the book or movie, The Hunt for Red October. It refers to the creation and collapse of air bubbles by the screw, which can be pretty noisy. Silence apparently trumps speed when it comes to underwater maneuvering. Submariners go to such efforts like using paper plates instead of regular plates to avoid any unwanted attention. (FYI: The Hunt for Red October is actually "very accurate" technically, according to Baer. "Scary accurate," he said.)
   Different types of submarines make different noises underwater. "It's like a fingerprint," said Baer, and it is one of the responsibilities of our military to keep records of these different, identifiable noises. There is sonar equipment located "all over" the bottom of the ocean floor, and Big Brother is listening!
   The Sand Lance's top speed was about 30 knots, or 34.5 mph if it had "a clean hull." The accumulation of barnacles and other marine life cause drag and slow the sub down if it was not regularly maintained. Submarines can also move "considerably faster submerged" than they can at the water's surface due to the reduced amount of surface tension, said Baer.  
   One of the Sand Lance's missions was to deter enemy subs away from other U.S. subs that has ballistic missile capabilities. Baer said it was referred to as "De-lousing the boomers." The boomers were the ballistic nuclear submarines. Baer's sub and a boomer would leave an area at the same time. The boomer would "go silent," and Baer's sub would "not go silent" so the Russians would follow Baer's sub instead. 
   Baer remembers a particularly alarming "cat-and-mouse chase" with a Russian Alpha-class submarine in the Mediterranean Sea. Baer's sub was cruising along 300 feet below the surface when the Russian sub was detected. Baer said he and his crewmates could tell something strange was happening when they started to maneuver to the side, and when their boat started to dive deeply. There was a CIA officer (a "spook") on board who was disguised as a first class petty officer. (He spent an awful lot of time hanging around the captain, and he was staying in the Executive Officer's state room, which sort of blew his cover, according to Baer.) The spook was advising the captain on how to maneuver during the chase, which lasted a couple of hours. At one point, the Russian sub "pinged" Baer's sub. The sonar waves used by submarines are loud enough to be heard with naked ears. But, if stealth is key when it comes to submarine etiquette, why would the Russians make such a conspicuous move? "They were pissed off because they knew we were following them," explained Baer. The Alpha-class Russian sub could out-run and out-maneuver the Sand Lance. The spook on board advised to captain to elevate back to 300 feet and "just ignore" the Russians. His advice was heeded, and the Russians eventually "got bored and left," said Baer. Attack by torpedoes was not the Americans' main concern. "Our biggest concern was collision," said Baer. The navigation officer told him later that they had "zero bearing" with the Russian sub at least three times during the chase. That meant that the subs were directly on top of each other, but at different depths. If they had both been at the same depth, collision would have been inevitable. 
    
   The sonar used by Baer's boat was actually a 50,000 watt sound wave, which would surely kill any living thing it hit at a close distance. "It would crush your bones," he said, noting that it could be the cause of harm done to large sea creatures like whales that seem to wash onshore sometimes "for no reason." 
   Baer once conducted a neat demonstration to show how much the hull shrinks when the submarine dives to its maximum depth. While they were at 300 feet, he tied a piece of string across one of the widest parts of the sub (in the machinery room.) It was taut at about four feet from the deck. After the boat dove to 1300 feet, he checked the string, and it was sagging to less than a foot from the deck. 
   "Most people don't realize when you've been on a sub for two or more weeks, your eyes adjust to short distances and you've lost your distance (vision)," said Baer. He said it takes a while for your eyes to be able to focus on things farther than 30 feet away. "Everybody wears sunglasses because you're not used to the sun - you're used to fluorescent lighting. I was flipping out," he said. 


  Baer recommends reading the book "Blind Man's Bluff" for anyone who would like to learn more about life on a submarine. As far as women serving on subs, his only comment was, "I don't know why any woman would want to be on there."