Leave some bread crumbs behind

Foundations of Amateur Radio

About a year or so ago I received a message from a friend of mine. The message asked if I would have or could find a use for some amateur radio gear from their active amateur father who became a silent key. That started a sequence of events that leads us here, today. In the year that followed that message I became the grateful owner and archivist of an amateur shack that belonged to Walter VK6BCP (SK). Walter had two calls that I know of, VK6BCP, last logged on the DX cluster on the 5th of April 2012. His other call, from Switzerland, was HB9CAI, last reported on the cluster on the 23rd of February 2005.

The more I dig into Walter's collection of all things that make a shack, coax, connectors, boxes with spares, power supplies, odds-and-ends, the more I find a kindred spirit. I never met Walter, but he and I share the same sense of order. We sort things in the same way, we have the same kinds of things on hand and it's gotten to the point where it's hard to tell where his shack ends and mine begins.

Walter's shack contributed several radios, some of which I loan out to beginning local amateurs, I took one with me on a recent trip and I've been using one to run a weekly net to see how this particular radio works and what quirks exist.

One of the requirements to actually switching on that last radio brings me to bread crumbs.

I needed a power supply to make the valves glow - well, the digital display - but you get the idea. There was a suitable power supply on the shelf, but I had no idea when it was last switched on, if it worked, if it would set fire to my shack, what the state of it was. It looked near new, no scratches on the paint, bit dusty, but it looked as well loved as my own power supply, which is now coming up to nearly a decade old.

I picked it up and the power supply rattled. Never a good thing in a device that has no moving parts. On closer inspection I noticed that only four of the fourteen screws were holding the case together and it stopped me from plugging the thing in and turning it on - with a stand-by fire extinguisher at the ready - mind you, I might have been slightly exaggerating with the fire extinguisher.

I did what any enterprising radio amateur would do in that situation, I got out a screwdriver and extracted the four remaining screws and lifted the lid. I wasn't sure what I would find, but nothing prepared me for what was there, though Walter being Swiss should have.

Inside this lovingly maintained power supply I found a little zip-loc bag with ten screws. The ones missing from the case. This was the source of the rattle.

I also found a disconnected fan lead, actually, it had been purposefully cut and folded back.

Now why do you suppose that was?

For my money, Walter knew this power supply well. His power requirements didn't need a fan - truth be told, mine probably don't either - and to keep everything in one place and to remind himself that he'd made a modification, he'd done the smart thing, make it obvious that something had been modified.

He could have put a sticker on the case, but over time that would have faded. He could have carved his initials into the case and carved an instruction, but both of those would have reduced the aesthetics of the power supply and if his callsign ever changed, or if he reconnected the fan, he'd have to start again.

What I found was something that gave me pause to consider how you manage to document what you've done, not only for yourself, but for others who might stumble on your modification. I'm certain that Walter never considered that one day I'd be telling you this story and thanking him for his preparation, but that's exactly where we are.

You might come away from this wondering what the point was of all this?

The point is, you can prepare your shack for events that might not happen. You might lose your memory, become a silent key, or have a beginner borrow your kit. You'll never know what it will be. What you can do is make it possible to discover that something has been changed. Walter could have just as easily put all fourteen screws back in and I would have never been any the wiser. I might have thought that the fan only came on under load, instead of not coming on at all, ever, because the lead had been cut. My first sign of trouble would have been magic smoke escaping and perhaps the need for a fire-extinguisher.

Leaving bread crumbs for discovery is a really simple and helpful way to document your adventures.

Thank you Walter VK6BCP (SK) - it's been a pleasure to know you through your shack.

I'm Onno VK6FLAB