I've been interested in the Solomon islands lately because my wife and I have been watching a YouTube video channel about a family living on Uepi island:
There are WWII remnants still visible (underwater) at Uepi:
AI Overview
Uepi Island in the Solomon Islands is famous today for its World War II history, particularly its abundant, accessible WWII wreck dives (aircraft & ships) in Marovo Lagoon, a key battleground during the Solomon Islands Campaign, offering divers a tangible connection to the fierce fighting between US and Japanese forces. The area, near major WWII sites like Guadalcanal, features underwater artifacts like Japanese Zeroes and US Corsairs, with the modern Uepi Island Resort preserving these historical relics within its dive operations.
Uepi's WWII Significance
Location: Uepi is situated in the Marovo Lagoon, part of the Solomon Islands, which were central to the brutal Pacific Campaign of WWII.
Wreck Dives: The waters surrounding Uepi are a "treasure trove" of sunken WWII aircraft (like P39 Air Cobra, Japanese Zeroes) and shipwrecks, making it a prime destination for historical diving.
Preservation: The Uepi Island Resort actively manages and promotes responsible diving at these sites, emphasizing that removing artifacts is illegal.
Key WWII Sites & Wrecks Near Uepi
Wickham Harbour: Located near Uepi, this area contains significant WWII wrecks, accessible via boat trips from the island.
Aircraft: Divers can find Japanese Zeroes, American Corsair fighters, and potentially B24 bombers, often in challenging conditions, with efforts to move some to cleaner areas.
Marovo Lagoon: As one of the world's largest saltwater lagoons, it holds numerous historical remnants from the intense fighting.
On December 1st 1924, the 20kW Alexanderson Alternator with the call sign "SAQ" was put into commercial operation with telegram traffic from Sweden to the United States. 101 years later, the transmitter is the only remaining electro-mechanical transmitter from this era and is still in running condition. On Christmas Eve morning, Wednesday December 24th 2025, the transmitter is scheduled* to spread the traditional Christmas message to the whole World, on 17.2 kHz CW.
You can listen to the CW from Ciprian's setup above. I listened to it carefully and clearly heard the "KW ALTERNATOR" words at around the 3:30 mark in Ciprian's video. I wondered if this was in fact the SAQ Alternator (but then again, who else would be on 17.2 kHz on Christmas Eve?). I looked at the video from Sweden (below) at around the 49.37 mark we see the operator send "200 KW ALTERNATOR." Through Ciprian's video, I copied "KW ALTERNATOR." So Ciprian's operation was a success. Congratulations Ciprian!
I have a sentimental tie to this older military transceiver, for several reasons:
-- This was probably the transceiver that we hauled into the Uwharrie national forest when I was in the army in 1983. I made one 40 meter CW contact with it. It was interesting for me to see Ray tune the rig up on 40 meter CW.
-- I like the crude, early, non-digital synthesizer.
-- This is a good example of the use of an old military rig on 5357 kHz in the 60 meter band. This is the only one of the chanelized frequencies on that band that is on a whole interger of kHz frequency. It fit well with the 1 kHz tunability of the transceiver. Thus we had the "Moose and Squirrel" net on 5357 KHz.
-- I like how Ray uses the band noise to peak the receiver. Band noise, you see, has its uses.
There’s a moment every homebrewer knows: you shove aside the archaeological layers of past projects on the bench, uncover a few resistors stuck to a solder blob, and declare, “Yep, this is going to be a radio.” To the untrained eye, it looks like the aftermath of a nuclear explosion. But to the enlightened? It’s the beginning of greatness — or at least something that won’t catch fire too quickly.
Buying a radio is easy. Too easy. You click a button, a box arrives, and suddenly you’re the proud owner of a rig that has more menus than a chain restaurant. You spend the first week scrolling through settings trying to figure out why the audio sounds like a kazoo trapped in a tin can. But building a radio? That’s where the real fun begins. It’s where you learn that “datasheet recommended values” are merely suggestions and that toroids exist solely to test your patience and your vocabulary.
Commercial radios are sleek, polished, and packed with features you’ll never use but will brag about anyway. They’re also sealed tighter than a politician’s tax returns. You can’t poke around inside without voiding the warranty, the warranty’s warranty, and possibly a few federal regulations. Meanwhile, a homebrew rig practically begs you to poke it with a screwdriver. It’s the difference between owning a sports car you’re not allowed to open the hood on and owning a jalopy you can rebuild with duct tape and optimism.
And let’s be honest: building a radio is an act of rebellion. In a world where everything is prepackaged, preprogrammed, and pre‑approved, choosing to melt solder and wind toroids is basically saying, “I reject your consumerist convenience and substitute my own chaos.” It’s a declaration that understanding matters. That learning matters. That the journey — the mis-wired stages, the smoke tests, and the moment you realize you soldered the IC in backwards — is part of the joy.
There’s also something deeply personal about a homebrew rig. When you build it, you know every quirk. You know why the VFO drifts when the cat walks across the table. You know why the audio chain hisses like an angry snake. You know the exact moment when the rig came alive for the first time, pulling a faint signal out of the ether and making you shout, “It works!” loud enough for the neighbors to wonder if you’ve finally snapped.
And that first QSO? Pure magic. When someone hundreds or thousands of miles away responds to your signal, you feel a surge of pride no store‑bought rig can match. You didn’t just operate a radio. You created one. You made electrons dance to your tune. You built a bridge across the airwaves using nothing but determination, caffeine, and parts that probably came from a cardboard box labeled “misc — maybe useful someday.”
Homebrewing also keeps the spirit of amateur radio alive. The hobby wasn’t built on buying the latest rig because the brochure said it had “enhanced DSP algorithms.” It was built on people who asked, “What if?” and then went to the bench to find out. When you build a radio, you’re participating in that legacy. You’re keeping the flame lit — even if the flame occasionally comes from a resistor, you accidentally overheated.
And let’s not forget the best part: when something breaks, you can actually fix it. No shipping it back to the manufacturer. No waiting six weeks for a repair estimate. No customer service rep telling you to “try turning it off and on again.” You grab a meter, poke around, and mutter, “Well, that shouldn’t be glowing,” and you fix it. That’s power.
We are in the Dominican Republic now. I thought SolderSmoke blog readers would like the introduction to Frank Jones W6AJF's VHF handbook. (Click on the pictures for a better view. ) The book was published in 1961. Lots of good homebrew, VHF, and thermatron thinking in those pages. I will be using this book and the implied blessings of W6AJF in my upcoming 2 meter assault on the Mona Passage between the DR and Puerto Rico. (Thanks too to W3RTV, the original owner of the book!)
A short time ago Paul VK3HN told us about the term bricolage. It seemed to capture much of the homebrew spirit. This morning I heard Van Neistat's video-cast (also something that came to me from Paul VK3HN) talking about the related term "bricoleur." His video (above) also has some great workshop ideas.
MacGyver is a television series in which the protagonist is the paragon of a bricoleur,[28] creating solutions for the problem to be solved out of immediately available found objects.
As the Commanding General of the Color-Burst Liberation Army, I have often wondered why so many of these 3.579 MHz crystals were made. Heck, even the crystal filter of my first homebrew superhet receiver used these crystals.
When we launched the CBLA effort, we used the Michigan Mighty Mite as our transmitter of choice: I mailed out around 40 of these rocks. Many transmitters were built. I have received reports of guys pulling their cars over to the side of a road (with hapless family members in the car) when a discarded color TV was spotted -- the 3.579 Mhz crystal would be quickly extracted. Such was the dedication of the CBLA members (the family members were, of course, baffled).
Anyway, the story of the Color-Burst crystals is deeply entwined with the story of the birth of color TV. This fellow (above) does a good job of explaining the hows and whys of 3.579 MHz. Thanks to Al Williams and Hackaday for alerting us to this, and for some really useful commentary on the video: https://hackaday.com/2025/12/18/the-miracle-of-color-tv/
That, my friends, is the look of a steely-eyed homebrewer taking a break from the soldering iron by belting out a few noodled chords for SolderSmoke on his guitar. And in the picture he is in the garage where all the homebrew magic happens.
Pete, we know that this has been a tough orbit for you, but we still want to wish you a Happy Birthday OM -- you bring a lot of wisdom and tribal knowledge to many, many builders. Thanks Pete.
This is not really my thing, but the changes to 60 meter rules recently caused me to crack open some older Arduino/Si5351 and AD9850 VFOs, so maybe this was my thing...
Still, all of this chatter kind of disappears once you embrace analog LC VFOs. But here is a good article about all of this:
Here's a reminder of how long this took: When Bob KD4EBM alerted me to the ARRL announcement that 15 kHz of the 60 meter band had been "liberated," I turned to my blog and found articles talking about this possible change way back in 2017. Oh well, better late than never.
Here are a couple of references from the SolderSmoke blog and one from the BITX Hacks blog in which Don ND6T shifts the BITX40 module's bandpass filter to 60 meters.
I reached into my junk box this morning and found the digital VFO I was using way back in 2017. I may turn to Don again for help in getting the VFO segment to work.
I got a chuckle about the FCC power limit: 9.15 watts ERP. Wow, such precision! Can you imagine the FCC breaking down a radio amateurs shack door after, perhaps, measuring 9.16 watts ERP? BUSTED!
I came across this channel yesterday -- there is a lot of FB homebrew content here. And it is partially in the Malayalam language of Kerala state in Southern India.
That is a question we get fairly regularly when we tell the other fellow that our rig is homebrew. I often get the feeling that the question stems from a certain insecurity -- the guy who asks it may feel a bit insecure because the "rig" he is running is completely commercial and his only role in its production was to flash a credit card number.
But lately I have been reading through Jim Williams' wonderful book "Analog Circuit Design -- Art, Science, and Personalities" and I can see that there may be something to this question.
It was the chapter by Barrie Gilbert that made me think more about this. Barrie is the legendary designer for whom the Gilbert Cell is named. This circuit is at the heart of the NE602 chip that many of us used to build our first "Neophyte" receivers and other homebrew rigs. Barrie's chapter is entitled "Where do Little Circuits Come From." Uh oh.
Barrie grew up in the post-war United Kingdom. He father had been killed in a German bombing raid. As a kid, he built crystal radios and, with his brother, "shortwave sets" on softwood bases. He used a TRF receiver that employed Manhattan-style construction. Barrie, it seemed, was one of us.
But then, he suddenly seemed more advanced. He wrote:
"Later, I began to build some receivers of my own but stubbornly refused to use circuits published in the top magazines of the day, Practical Wireless and Wireless World. Whether they worked as well or not they had to be "originals" otherwise, where was the satisfaction? I learned by my mistakes but grew to trust what I acquiered in this way: it was 100% mine, not a replication or mere validation of someone else's inventiveness."
Wow, that is certainly hardcore. I will note, however, that in getting back to the the question about whether I have "designed" the rig myself, I have NEVER had the questioner come back to say that HIS rig was homebrewed from HIS OWN original design. Never. Not once.
And I will note that building a rig from the schematic is an enormous challenge. It is not easy. It is not the mere replication of someone else's inventiveness. Anyone who thinks it is easy should try to homebrew a simple direct conversion receiver. They will discover that it is NOT easy.
I guess this comes down to what we mean by "homebrew." I prefer to stick to the old ham radio meaning of the term: It is homebrew if it was built at home, even if it is built from a schematic done by someone else. When Jean Shepherd built his Heising Modulator, was he working off a schematic from a ham radio magazine? He almost certainly was. But he gathered the parts, laid out the chassis, and put the circuit together. Most importantly, when trouble cropped up, he was able to step in and make the needed corrections. Was his modulator "homebrew?" Of course it was. Did he design it himself? No, his name was not Heising!
More than 100 people built our SolderSmoke Direct Conversion Receiver. We resisted pressure to turn this project into a kit. The folks who built it worked off schematics that we had prepared. They gathered the parts and built their own circuit boards, Manhattan style. They struggled to get the whole thing to work, to make sure the VFO was on the right frequency and at the right level, that the AF amplifier was not oscillating. Were these receivers "homebrew?" Of course they were.
Jim Williams warned that Analog Circuit Design was "A wierd book." He strongly discouraged collaboration between the authors, and noted that this would probably result in "a somewhat discordant book." We see that discord in the hardcore position taken by Barrie Gilbert. Many of the other designers seem to take a more flexible, less austere position. Some even seem to downplay the role of mathematics.
I think Barrie had a right to be proud of his fundamentalism. But not all of us are capable of that. Writing in Jim Williams' book, Samuel Wilensky sums it up nicely:
"I classify analog designers into one of two categories. There are those who do truly original work, and these I consider the artists of our profession. These individuals, as in most fields, are very rare. Then there are the rest of us, who are indeed creative, but do it by building on the present base of knowledge."
Here is a picture of Jim Williams taken through a Tektronix oscilloscope camera. I never used one of these things, but Dean KK4DAS did. Here are the details of the shot:
I took this great photo of Jim Williams with a Tek scope camera sometime around 1977 or so. There was no digital (or analog) manipulation. It was a simple double exposure. I first shot a scope waveform, then just to see what would happen, I pulled the camera off the scope, stuck it Jim’s face and snapped another shot before pulling the film. I never expected it to look this good….a view from inside the oscilloscope!
Here is the collection of pictures that this 'scope shot came from:
Thanks to Len Sherman for the pictures. On his site you will see, among other things, the upside down Christmas Tree of dead parts, and Bob Pease's Volkswagen Beetle.
Time for something completely different. As a kid, I lusted after the ROBOT SSTV systems that were advertised in QST. Yesterday, on a lark, I downloaded this program, tuned my Mythbuster transceiver to 14.230 MHz, and put the podcast microphone in front of the speaker. BOOM! SSTV signals started pouring in. The program automatically set the kind of SSTV format that was coming in, so there was no need for me to try to figure out if it was Scottie 1 or Martin 1 or whatever. I've done this before, but this program made it easier. The invention of SSTV by Copthorne MacDonald (another GREAT ham radio name!) is really interesting:
Sometimes the YouTube algorithm gets it right. This morning it sent me the above video from the Computer History Museum about Jim Williams. The video is 13 years-old, but that says something about the enduring impact that Jim Williams had. I especially liked the references to the need for understanding of analog circuits. As many have noted, Jim was very good at explaining this stuff.
As always with Dave's builds, " 'tis a thing of beauty." His photographs and documentation make it even better. Please go directly to Dave's site and enjoy his look at the SolderSmoke HOMEBREW Direct Conversion Receiver:
The Bob Pease book that KD4EBM gave me led me to the Jim Willams book entitled Analog Circuit Design -- Art, Science, and Personalities. I'm only about a quarter of the way through it, but I can already tell that it is great. Get this book. Make room on your shelf.
Jim was the editor, and it is a collection of contibutions made by a many different analog luminaries. Curiously, none of the bios show that there are any hams among them (but the articles of many of them seem to hint at ham radio backgrounds). MIT shows up a lot in the bios. Jim notes in the very first line of the preface that "This is a weird book." He talks about how it came together -- he met with the contributors and each of them pledged NOT to consult with the others about what they would write. Jim notes that the result is "a somewhat discordant book," that "Hopefully would lend courage to someone seeking to do analog work." " The single greatest asset a designer has is self knowledge." "Take what you like, cook it any way you want to, and leave the rest." Indeed.
I found that Jim's own contributions were among those that I liked the most. He writes about "analoggery" and "digital fakery" but then acknowledges that this is a "good natured" controversy. He notes that "no true home is complete without a lab" (a shack?) and that "no lab is complete without an HP series 200 oscillator." His bio reveals that he lived in California with his family and "14 Tektronix oscilloscopes." In a chapter entitled "Should Ohm's Law be Repealed?" Jim describes the very early influence of a neighbor, Dr. Stearn, who owned a Tek 535. It allowed them to see into circuits: "You knew the excitement Leeuwenhoek felt when he looked in his microscope." But that was not always enough: Jim tells how Stearn once successfully troubleshot one of Jim circuits simply by running moistened fingers over circuit while watching the scope.
Tom Hornak also really struck a chord with me. He writes of things that happened in the year "10 BT" (Before Transistors). He talks about how he and a childhood friend had trouble understanding the differences between voltage and current. "We found someone who knew the right answer, but he did not help us too much. Instead of using a simple analog such as a phasor diagram, he started to talk sine and cosine. We accused him of not knowing the answer either, and covering up his ignorance my muttering mumbo-jumbo." Tom explaines: "I know that trying to 'understand electricity' early in life had a lasting benefit to me. I got used to 'seeing electricity' in analogs and I am still seeing it that way. I believe every electronic circuit designer could benefit from thinking in analogs, and it is never too late to start. This belief made me write this chapter."
Barrie Gilbert -- the man credited with inventing the Gilbert Cell (the heart of the NE602) -- has a chapter in the book. He writes of circuits "laid out Manhattan-style" and "built on softwood bases." He hombrewed a very early TV receiver. He tested AF amplifiers "by placing a finger on the grid of the first tube." (We recommended something similar with the SolderSmoke Direct Conversion Receiver, but some builders seemed not to believe that this would work!)
It is undoubtedly a tragedy that we lost both Jim Willams and Bob Pease in June 2011. Jim died of a stroke at age 63; Bob died of a possible heart attack or stroke while driving home from Jim's memorial service. But here we are in 2025 still talking about their work and their books. In a certain sense they live on through their writing. This is a lesson and an inspiration for those of us who sometimes get a bit down by the vagaries of AI and the algorithms: We never know when -- perhaps long after we are gone -- someone might come across something we have written and find inspiration there.
First off, what a great name. It is a real ham radio name. Grote Reber. And he was indeed a ham: W9GFZ. We don't have names like that anymore. But we should.
Second, Grote Reber's mother was also the teacher of Edwin Hubble. Hubble was the guy who discovered that there were OTHER GALAXIES in the universe, and that they were all moving away from each other. That was a BIG discovery! Later, Grote's mom also had her son in her class. Both students were from Wheaton, Illinois.
Lest there be any doubt about Grote's dedication to radio, consider the following. (Much of the following comes from Wikipedia. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Grote_Reber)
When he learned of Karl Jansky's work in 1933,[5][6][7] Grote Reber decided this was the field he wanted to work in, and applied to Bell Labs, where Jansky was working.
In the summer of 1937, Reber decided to build his own radio telescope in his back yard in Wheaton, Illinois. Reber's radio telescope was considerably more advanced than Jansky's, and consisted of a parabolic sheet metal dish 9 meters in diameter, focusing to a radio receiver 8 meters above the dish. The entire assembly was mounted on a tilting stand, allowing it to be pointed in various directions, though not turned. The telescope was completed in September 1937.[8][9]
Here is a really great article from Sky and Telescope magazine (July 1988) about Reber's homebrew radio telescope:
He was limited by the size of locally available 2X4 lumber. Neighbors thought he was trying to control the weather or to bring down enemy aircraft. Between Wheaton and the NRAO site in West Virginia, Reber's telescope spent some time at the National Bureau of Standards site in Sterling, Virginia. I was in Sterling just yesterday. I wonder if there is a plaque or something noting the telesccope's stay in that town. I note that at age 15, Reber had built a ham radio transceiver.
AND THEN HE MOVED TO TASMANIA
He did this because of propagation and low noise conditions. (This reminds me of how we sometimes said that very few people have actually said the words, "And then we moved to the Azores.")
Starting in 1951, he received generous support from the Research Corporation in New York, and moved to Hawaii.[12] In the 1950s, he wanted to return to active studies but much of the field was already filled with very large and expensive instruments. Instead he turned to a field that was being largely ignored, that of medium frequency (hectometre) radio signals in the 0.5–3 MHz range, around the AM broadcast bands. However, signals with frequencies below 30 MHz are reflected by an ionized layer in the Earth's atmosphere called the ionosphere. In 1954, Reber moved to Tasmania,[12] the southernmost state of Australia, where he worked with Bill Ellis at the University of Tasmania.[13] There, on very cold, long, winter nights the ionosphere would, after many hours shielded from the Sun's radiation by the bulk of the Earth, 'quieten' and de-ionize, allowing the longer radio waves into his antenna array. Reber described this as being a "fortuitous situation". Tasmania also offered low levels of man-made radio noise, which permitted reception of the faint signals from outer space.
His Homebrew House in Tasmania
In the 1960s, he had an array of dipoles set up on the sheep grazing property of Dennistoun, about 7.5 km (5 miles) northeast of the town of Bothwell, Tasmania, where he lived in a house of his own design and construction he decided to build after he purchased a job lot of coach bolts at a local auction. He imported 4x8 douglas fir beams directly from a sawmill in Oregon, and then high technology double glazed window panes, also from the US. The bolts held the house together. The window panes formed a north facing passive solar wall, heating mat black painted, dimpled copper sheets, from which the warmed air rose by convection. The interior walls were lined with reflective rippled aluminium foil. The house was so well thermally insulated that the oven in the kitchen was nearly unusable because the heat from it, unable to escape, would raise the temperature of the room to over 50 °C (120 °F). His house was never completely finished. It was meant to have a passive heat storage device, in the form of a thermally insulated pit full of dolerite rocks, underneath, but although his mind was sharp, his body started to fail him in his later years, and he was never able to move the rocks. He was fascinated by mirrors and had at least one in every room.
To Canada -- And a Rejection of the Big Bang
The same July 1988 issue of Sky and Telescope magazine has a good historical vignette of Reber, with a focus on his actvities in Canada late in life (click on the image below). Reber had big doubts about the big bang. Unfortunately this seemed to spill over into scorn and ridicule for those who -- well -- believed in the big bang. We see this at the end of the article. Oh well, even great people sometimes get cranky.
Three cheers for Grote Reber.
I had trouble making the WayBack Machine links to work on my blog. But they seem to work on the Wiki page. So to see them, go to https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Grote_Reber Then go to the Reference section and take a look at the second and third items.