TECHNOLOGICAL MARVEL
For those who actually worked inside the station it was both an ex-
citing and dangerous existence. The renovated station in 1903 con-
sisted of a complicated array of electrical machinery. The heart of the
station consisted of the transmitter. Contained in its own separate
structure the transmitter room housed the station's enormous oscilla-
tion transformer and transmitter coil, a bank of 33 condensers made
from glass plates and metal sheets set in metal cans filled with oil and
the rotary spark gap. The spark gap apparatus contained a huge
16-studded, three-foot-wide rotor, which revolved at 2,100 revolu-
tions per minute, producing 35 kilowatts of RF (radio frequency)
power. This was the first use of a rotary spark gap for commercial pur-
poses. During transmission the whirring spark gap created ear split-
ting noise and blinding sparks. A jet of compressed air was forced
across the gap to break the spark more clearly and to keep the elec-
trodes cool.
The extreme heat that was generated limited transmission to a
45-minute cycle, followed by a 15-minute cooling off period. A door
with a painted glass window eventually was installed and separated
the narrow 8-by-l0 foot operating room from the rotary spark gap ap-
paratus. This would allow for the operator to observe the transmitter
without the danger of entering the room. A long wooden pump
handle extended from the transmitter room into the operating room,
which was rather sparsely appointed with wooden benches contain-
ing the receivers, a paper tape printer, a paper tape transmitter and
various switches. The operator sat on a wooden stool at this location
and operated the pump handle, which in turn broke the high tension
circuit directly inside the transmitter room. Transmission by this
means was limited to around 15 to 17 words a minute, which was
rather slow when compared to conventional telegraph's average of 30
words per minute at that time. Eventually telegraph lines were in-
stalled directly to the station site, making their juncture at the
bungalow. From here the operators could work in relative comfort. In
the bungalow a new Wheatstone Morse tape printer, adapted from
telegraphy, improved reception and a Profolover tape punching
machine speeded up transmission. The paper tape recorded dots and
dashes as it moved along in a "sismograph" like up-and-down pattern
and could be "read" or transcribed later. Likewise, the prepunched
tape, which had a pattern of "punched holes" for dots and dashes,
couId be prepared in advance and continuously fed through the send-
ing machine, which in turn would mechanically tap out the message.
the red-brick power house produced the life blood of the station. It
must be remembered that there was no electrical service on the Outer
Cape in those days, so Marconi generated his own. The powerhouse
was located just to the east of the transmitter room and was connected
by a long narrow corridor to that facility and the operators room.
Measuring 30 feet by 60 feet, the power house contained two
kerosene engines. The smaller one drove a 110-volt DC generator for
lighting and starting up the second engine which in turn powered a
2,200 volt AC generator that could be stepped up to 25,000 volts! It
vas told that on cold nights a can of kerosene was heated on the stove
to start the small generator. If it could not be started, there was no
transmission that night.
The four wooden towers that were erected after the original circular
Masts were blown down in 1901 proved to be an even more effective
design than the original one. In 1903 they loomed some 210 feet
above the landscape and were arranged in a 200-foot square pattern.
Each tower was 24-feet square at the base and 8-feet square at the top. ,
they were painted barn-red in color. The corner posts were made .,
rom 12-inch by 12-inch timbers and the criss-crossing lattice, which
gave the towers support, was made from 3-inch by 12-inch planks. In
order to give the towers stability they were 2uyed by 12 one-inch-
thick steel cables per tower which were anchored into 12-inch by
12-inch crossed timbers (or "dead men") buried some 10 feet in the
sandy soil. The cables were tightened by giant turnbuckles, and to
maintain insulation, Marconi's engineers devised a method of utiliz-
ing ship's deadeyes between rubber hoses and manila rope with
melted sulphur connectors strategically located amid the guy wires.
To insure stability further, a square four-foot thick cement slab was
prepared for each tower base to stand on. The rigging in the towers
created a conical arrangement that consisted of approximately 200
wires which converged at the bottom and then fed into the trans-
mitter house through a single lead-in wire.
Although certain safeguards were incorporated, the design was not
completely fool proof. Lightning was a major concern. Although the
towers and station buildings were grounded with an elaborate system
of underground lines it was mainly for the purpose of improving
transmission and reception capability. So on occasion lightning strikes
carried out a far greater threat to the station than one would suspect.
Over the years lightning strikes and other perils while working at the
station left more than one memorable story to be passed on. Irving Ver-
mylia, the station's last manager, told of how a lightning bolt demol-
ished a stool he had just been sitting on. Mrs. Higgins, the cook, used
to complain that she would receive shocks when hanging up the wash
to dry! Jim Wilson, one of the station's operators, told of how lightning
knocked a man in the kitchen out of his shoes and welded a coal hod
solidly to the stove. Sometimes the mishaps were even more serious but
fortunately only on the rarest of occasions, fatal.