Olympic-Hawke collision from The Ushant right through the Pyrenees, and I was lying in the bay of Algiers in a perfect nest of stations. There were fifty vessels all talking at once,—a terrible jam,—but I got every word. Now the regular press business comes every night through Poldhu—in Cornwall, you know! About a quarter past eleven you start your detector and begin listening. The detector is an endless iron band passing through a small coil of copper wire. It catches everything—any kind of an electric wave—any length. You tune into the other fellow’s wave by sliding these vulcanized rubber handles backward and forward. Well—now you ’re ready. Then at eleven-thirty sharp (Greenwich time) Poldhu begins working ‘CQ—CQ—CQ—ZZ—ZZ—ZZ.’ That means, ‘All stations—Poldhu talking.’ Then he begins to send his commercial messages and signal for the ships he wants. Every ship has a letter. If he wants the Caronia he sends out MRA.—MRA—until he picks her up, or if he ’s after the George Washington he sends out DKN. After he gets through his commercials he begins to distribute the news to
