I was in Chile this week for a conference on clinical trials in Latin America. I delivered about five talks in three days, but also managed to carve out a few hours to meet with the Radio Club of Chile — more about that in a subsequent post. Today, I had a few hours free before the flight out and decided to explore the city a little before the taxi to the airport would arrive at the hotel.
I had charged the QRP gear during the conference, and I even had an external 2Ah lead acid battery. This time, TSA had decided that it was permitted to take it on the plane. Maybe it helped to label everything I was carrying as “sealed, unspillable, non-spillable, absorbed glass mat, lead-acid battery” and “not lithium”. I even went so far as to write “this is a wheelchair” on my bag, since I know that lead-acid batteries are explicitly permitted in the cabin when the are “part of a wheelchair.”
I headed for the metro system and took the red line from Los Leones to Banqueda, which is just south of the furnicular that runs up the side of Santiago Hill to Santiago Municipal Park. The furnicular has a plaque that advertises that it is the same train that Pope John Paul II took to the top during his trip here. Well, if it’s good enough for the pope…
The furnicular ran smoothly, and we passed the zoological park on the way up. The top of the line is a plaza, which was full of bicyclers, who were taking advantage of the great Spring weather. I exercised some restraint and did not follow the signs pointing “this way to the virgin”, but continued along the trail, towards the antennas that run along the ridge. The biking trail run along the side of the mountain, and followed it for a bit, then turned towards higher ground on dirt trails. I walked to the very top and checked out the antennas, but decided I really didn’t want to pitch my wire antenna anywhere near them.
I continued on a bit more to the East and found a nice place to plunk down on the side of a hill.
I decided to go with a 15m antenna plus my SLT+ tuner. I pitched the wire into a tree and threw the counterpoise down the hill on the pine needles. I got everything else set up, turned on the radio, and didn’t hear much. The background was just not right. I tried tuning the antenna starting with the suggested inductor setting, but the little red light didn’t change at all. I gave the SLT+ a couple knocks to see if anything was loose, and heard an occasional burst of static.
Of course, I didn’t have tools with me. I almost threw some into the bag, but recalling previous run-ins with TSA, I decided against it. I was, however, able to rip the pocket clip off my pen and use that as a screw driver to open the SLT+. I had suspected that the toroids might have come loose, but when I opened it, I saw that I had already addressed that after the last incident — all were firmly anchored with hot glue. What had happened was that the red antenna banana terminal’s solder lug had rotated and was grounded. I twisted it around, and the noise level went up. As I tuned around, I started hearing signals.
But, my troubles with the SLT+ weren’t over. When I tried to run the antenna this time, the capacitor knob spun freely. If I recall, it had been attached to the underlying polyvaricon shaft with either glue or nail polish. I tried to turn the capacitor from the side using the jaws of an alligator clip, but found it very difficult to do so. I had little choice but to settle for the best match I could get using the inductors, although the loudest settings didn’t correspond well to the suggested settings. I decided to go by the SWR reading on the radio itself. My “feedline” was a piece of BNC-terminated coax only about a half meter long, so as long as the radio could tolerate the impedance mismatch, I figured I’d be okay. I did push the radio when it read “high vSWR”, but was willing to transmit with a few bars on the swr meter. Being less picky let me transmit on both 10m and 15m; it seemed to work on both. The moral of this story: always throw a leatherman into the checked baggage. It may get stolen, but most of the time it won’t.
I was extremely relieved when I heard PY1XM, Tom, come back to me on 10m. Up to that point, I thought that I might be skunked on this outing, with nothing to show for hauling my equipment half a world away and up a mountain. Tom was operating from Rio, which is about 3000 km from Santiago. Right after working him, I talked with Paulo, PR2W operating from Brasilia. Paulo gave me a 579, so I was glad that my signal was not entirely in the mud, although I’m sure his antenna did the heavy lifting.
While listening down the band, I heard an Italian station calling — he was pretty faint, so I though I would have no chance, but I could hear another station calling nearby. The more I spun the dial, the louder it became. It was slow but sure, and I had to hear it a few times because I was not familiar with the structure of the call sign: CD6792. After one exchange, I found out that it was Álvaro, a member of the Radio Club of Chile that I had met the previous day. ¡Fine business, Álvaro!
I had two more contacts: LU8WX in Argentina was rapid-firing DX contacts, and he got didn’t miss a beat in replying to my unusually long call. I also found that I could also get a reasonable match on 15m, so my final contact was with Rei, PY2VJ in Brazil.
So, five contacts isn’t anything to gloat about, but considering that Murphy accompanied me up the mountain, I was happy to have had even one. It seemed that conditions were getting better as the day went along, so propagation may also have played some role. I’ll note that the previous day, the K index had gone up to 4, and when I was operating it, it was declining, but still about 2.