My wife, Jan, and I moved to Roanoke late last July. (This
article was written in 1995.)
Although I haven't had the opportunity to meet many of the local hams yet, I've
chatted with a few of you on 2 meters. Since we spent nearly ten years in missionary
work, I thought perhaps you would be interested in some of my ham experiences
as a DX station.
Back in the 70's I worked in administration with an interdenominational
missionary agency with world headquarters in Marion, Indiana. In 1975 I
was given a one-year special assignment in Tegucigalpa, Honduras. Then
in 1981 our family returned to Honduras for another three years. Our first
year was spent in Spanish language study in San José, Costa Rica.
Being able to operate in a foreign country is the dream of every ham,
and I was no exception. Just think, the chance not just to work DX, but
actually to be the DX. Wow! In this and subsequent articles, I'll be sharing
some of my DX'ing experiences with you. For now I'll be sharing about my
operation in Honduras, but later I'll mention a little about Costa Rica.
It was with mixed emotions that I boarded the SAHSA 737 jet at Costa
Rica's International Airport in San José in August of 1982. I was
excited because we would soon be back in beautiful Honduras, birth place
of our son and home to many of our friends. But we were leaving a land
we had come to love and scores of people who would be in our hearts forever.
However, from my ever-present ham perspective, I could hardly wait to get
to San Pedro Sula. After a frustrating year of operation in TI2-land, anything
would be better.
As I looked at Costa Rica's lush green mountainsides from my plane seat,
my mind began to wander. I remembered all the fun times I used to have
as HR1DH in '75 and '76. Those were great moments. Like the late afternoons
I used to run long strings of JA's on 20 meters, sometimes on 15 . . .
all calling me. Or the night I worked two solid hours of ZL's and VK's.
Oh what fun!
I especially remembered the fun I had trying to snatch HV3SJ, who was
the only station in the Vatican City. The Rome Radio Club was sponsoring
the ANNO SANTO award for working twelve Rome stations plus the Vatican
City. Getting the Rome stations was easy They were a dime a dozen on 20m
CW. But getting HV3SJ was another thing. However, I finally got a break.
One Saturday morning I was chatting with Elvio (now a silent key), IØZQ,
on 20m CW. He said he'd talk personally to Ed and set up a sked for me.
Now I was getting somewhere! Never mind that not-so-kosher third-party
message. This was priority traffic and had to get through.
The next Tuesday at 1839 UTC I met Elvio on 20m CW. He told me everything
was go, that we would meet on Friday at 1830 UTC on 14.020 MHz. After Elvio
and I established contact, Ed would join us. I could hardly wait! Finally
Friday arrived. I began calling Elvio at 1825 and in a couple of minutes
he answered me. He said that HV3SJ was standing-by. I called Ed at exactly
1830 UTC. When I flicked off the transmit switch on that old Swan 350-C,
I couldn't believe my ears. Apparently half of the U.S. ham population
had been eavesdropping on our QSO, because what seemed like hundreds of
stations began calling either HV3SJ or me--before we even made contact.
Ed and I could hardly squeeze one another out of the QRM on what had been
a nice, quiet frequency. I logged him in with a 349 RST, said thanks to Ed and
Elvio, and QRT'ed.
Frustrated? You better believe it. Pleased? Extremely so! I just sat
back in my swivel chair, breathed a sigh of relief that I'd gotten him,
and bathed in the good feelings that all hams have when they snatch a good
one. Now, mind you, that wasn't necessarily a rare catch, but it was a
good one. A couple of weeks later I received a beautiful picture QSL card
showing the HV3SJ beam overlooking the Vatican City. I still cherish that
card and the beautiful certificate it brought me.
Our plane taxied down the runway, waited for a couple of other planes to
take-off, then, with a mighty roar, began its ascent toward the heavens and
God's special place called Honduras. Looking at the landscape below reminded me
of Honduras and those neat experiences I'd had on the radio.
Like the time . . . .
