Foundations of Amateur Radio

The other day I went on my first POTA or Parks On The Air adventure, this time I was on my own. If you recall, my power company announced yet another planned network outage and I felt that I could use this time without electricity to my benefit, for a change.

As is traditional, I did all the prior planning to prevent pretty poor performance. I made a list, checked that all the items on the list were in my kit, packed the kit days before, put it all ready to go in the hallway the night before, packed the car on the day and set out on my adventure.

I will confess that I was slightly more sweaty than anticipated when I set off because the umbrella in the boot of my car has a nasty and recurring habit of getting in the way, specifically it stops things from getting pushed right to the full depth of the boot. Mind you, it wasn't until I started getting agitated that I realised that it wasn't the umbrella's fault entirely this time, since as it turns out, the folding chair that I was attempting to jam in place doesn't actually fit longways into the boot.

Anyhoo, I set off and visited the local petrol station. I was not prepared for a customer to spend 15 minutes dribbling the last bit of diesel into their pretend Sports Utility Vehicle, but he looked like he was up for a fight, so I smiled sweetly and waited for him to pay and move his box on wheels.

After paying for my own fuel and driving off, the pressure in my bladder had gotten beyond the "cross your legs and hope for the best" stages and I swiftly made my way to the nearest shopping complex where a local pharmacist helpfully told me that there were no toilets in the building and that the local hotel or fast food joint were the place to relieve the pressure.

One problem .. they were both closed.

At this point I was in pain, and discovered that I couldn't read the screen on my mobile phone in the lovely sunlight, because it was set to battery saving mode, since my charger was at home where the power was out. After disabling the battery saving mode I opened the local public toilet map shortcut on my phone, and discovered that fortunately the shortcut still worked, opening up my default browser, which suddenly didn't want to display a map. Copied the URL to another browser, still in pain, finally a map. Click on the nearest icon and it navigates me there from Darwin, or over 4,000 km from where I actually am.
Luckily it has the GPS location which I copy and then paste into my mapping app, and I can finally navigate to the nearest toilet. Several comment worthy navigation moves later, I drive into the car park, lock the car, painfully shuffle to the building, do my business in the very clean facilities and then decide that I should just stop, sit, and take a breath.

So, I get in the car and discover that my partner was right when they heaped scorn on our newly acquired thermos cup. It really does hurt your nose when you try to drink from it and the sharp edges in your mouth do nothing to make the experience joyful.

Meanwhile there's some trucks moving around in the car park and a guy walks up to the car to ask me if I can move because they want to move a third, or was it forth, truck into the space. I swallow my sip of restorative coffee, wipe the now wet bridge of my nose, and move the car, only to be blocked from leaving the exit thanks to the slowest reversing truck I've ever encountered, one who then proceeds to sit at the next intersection for five minutes without indicating where it was going.

Are we having fun yet?

I finally made my way to the main road where I attempt to calm my nerves with the help of a Morse code edition of my podcast. It's been the only exposure I've had to Morse for way too long. This accompanies me to my first destination, breakfast.

I'm going to skip past the drivers in the centre lane driving at 10 km per hour below the posted speed limit, or the ones who think that jumping out of a side street in front of you is normal and safe driving practice.

At every traffic light I celebrate the pause with a sip from my coffee and a furtive wipe of my nose which is being assaulted by the lid of the cup.

I arrive at my breakfast destination and fear the worst. Their car park is almost empty. I've never seen it this quiet and I didn't check to confirm that they were open, or not. I look at my map application and remember to turn my phone back to battery saving mode. According to the Internet, my cafe is open, so I cross my fingers and get out of the car.

To my delight, they are absolutely open, make me a lovely breakfast and provide the needful for lunch too .. I have a big day planned after all.

After enjoying breakfast and hot chocolate, with two marshmallows, I get back in the car and navigate to my planned set-up location. As I drive into the park I notice something that I hadn't the last time I was here. I'm descending, as-in, the deeper into the park I go, the more I go downhill. That in and of itself isn't a cause for concern, were it not for the fact that the local repeaters are on the hilltops that overlook the city and I'm several hills inland and travelling into a valley. I'm keeping my eyes open for side roads and alternatives, but gamely proceed to the formal entrance of the park, where I pay my $17 to have a car with a maximum of 12 passengers enter the National Park.

I drive to the location I have planned and discover that there's a car park quite close to the gazebo I've earmarked, so I park there. I figure that before I get all set-up in the gazebo for a day of radio, I should first check what I can learn from where I'm parked, especially since I'll need to pull the gear out of the car either way.

Before I get out of the car, I attempt to mark my actual location on the map, only to discover that there's no mobile phone coverage, so much for using Echolink as a fallback.

I pull out the folding table which neatly fits next to the car, dig out the coax from the boot and lead it out the passenger door. The other end is connected to the boot-lip mount that has been there for years. In case of failure I did bring a magnetic base, but I'm optimistic. I remove the HF and VHF multi-band antennas from their storage spot, taped to the driver side rear passenger roof grab handle and pull out the previously errant folding chair. All is going well.

I pull out the spare coax and my anxiety spikes a little, this is what I think might be what causes me to come unstuck. It's a 10 meter or so length of coax, it's untested, terminated with BNC and I'm concerned that I didn't bring enough adaptors beyond the BNC to PL259 and the SO239 barrel I packed hastily the night before.

I push away my fear, since I'm not needing this right now and continue to unpack the radio, noticing that to my immense relief, the knobs are still attached, set it all up, pull the power cable from the 12 Volt, 80 Amp hour AGM Deep Cycle battery, "ideal for 4WD, caravan and camping trailers", which I bought four years ago to power my dash cams and radio. It's automatically charged by a 360 Watt DC to DC converter that's connected to the alternator in the car - because I don't want my dash cams, or radio for that matter, to stop me from starting the car. Ask me how I know.

The power leads are long enough to make it out of the boot and I connect the inline volt meter to the battery, 12.6 Volt, the same as what I saw when I checked it a week earlier.

I mount the VHF multi-band antenna, connect it to the radio after pulling out the N-Type to PL259 adaptor which is on the list and part of the standard kit.

I take a breath and turn on my radio. Tune to the local repeater frequency and hit the PTT. The radio is set to 5 Watts and I'm hoping to hear the repeater tone.

Nothing.

I check all the repeaters in my radio, about seven of them, none of them do anything.

Then .. I hear a click.

I've been "on-air" for all of three minutes. I notice the radio is turned off. I've seen this before, sometimes stray RF gets into something and causes the radio to stop. I turn it back on and notice the voltage on the display of the radio, 9.65 Volts.

That .. is .. not .. good.

I check the inline volt meter, it doesn't even display anything. I turn off the radio to save what little power I have.

I take a moment to consider and attach the HF antenna, hoping that I can run the radio for a few seconds to check the local 10m repeater. All is good to go, turn on the radio and it won't even turn on, just flickering on and off.

I feel like I want to cry, but there doesn't seem to be any point.

I pack everything back up, the water, my hat, the radio, the coax, the antennas, the table, the chair, put it all back in where it came from, even the sandwich I was going to have for lunch.

After slowly reversing out of the car bay, looking carefully at the ground to make sure I didn't leave anything behind, I make my way out of the park. I've been there for a grand total of 29 minutes.

I briefly entertain the idea of going to the nearest electronics store and spending $50 on a small battery, but I don't actually have a working charger, and spending several hundred dollars on a charger and battery is not really in my budget at the moment.

Whilst I was driving home I got a notification that the power was out at my QTH. I got home 52 minutes after the power went out. It stayed off for the next six hours. So much for being productive.

My friend Charles NK8O, tells me that his first few activations were a bust. He's a Sapphire POTA activator with 609 activations across 372 parks, so, there's hope for me yet.

In looking back at this adventure, I was planning for failure. I'd thought through all the different permutations of what might happen. Not for one moment did I consider that my battery might be a single point of failure.

That said, there were hints that not all was well. The 12.6 Volts was one hint, the fact that my dash cams have been acting up was another. I had been on the hunt for a battery monitor for the past two years to discover precisely what was going on, but I haven't found one that doesn't require a specific app that needs to know where you are or what's in your diary, so I put it out of my mind. As it happens, that was where I made my rookie mistake.

Mind you, part of me knows that I don't have another battery anyway, so it really didn't matter if the battery was faulty or not. Either way, I wasn't going to connect my radio to my car battery, I learned that lesson well over a decade ago.

I'm back to the drawing board. It's unlikely we'll use that location to activate for the 750th edition of F-troop, but when I get my power situation sorted out, it's still a lovely place to get on-air and make some noise.

I'm Onno VK6FLAB