Chapter 219: Batteries and Timekeeping
While the Crossing Group’s desire for a telegraph machine was immense, Dr. Zhong rightly pointed out that their leap forward in mechanics and chemistry was not yet sufficient to support the development of electrical science. The path of electrical development was long and arduous.
Currently, the Crossing Group had established an electrical application system far beyond that of the current era, including a simple power generation/distribution network, radio, semi-automatic/manual telephone exchanges, and a mobile phone system. However, all of this was built upon equipment from the 21st century.
Compared to the mechanical industry, which could now manufacture various simple machine tools, standard parts, and bearings, the Crossing Group’s electrical industry was a blank slate. Not to mention the simplest equipment, even the mass production of electrical wire had only recently been tentatively developed. The insulation material was a crude mixture based on raw lacquer and tung oil. This material was currently being used, with some difficulty, for telephone lines. Zhong Lishi believed it would probably be adequate for wired telegraphy. And it was wired telegraphy that he chose to develop first.
Why start with wired telegraphy? Dr. Zhong explained it this way: first, wired telegraphy was the easiest communication device to manufacture using primitive methods. Many had seen a simple wired telegraph device in The Mysterious Island. Dr. Zhong believed that while the manufacturing process in the novel was overly simplified, the basic idea was correct. With his abilities and the equipment at his disposal, he should be able to create better equipment. A telephone with a manual switchboard might seem technically simple, but the manufacturing of the telephone itself presented several technical challenges. Second, wired telegraphy had a low error rate and reliable transmission. While the radio environment of this era was very clean, there were always interferences from various weather factors. In fact, most commercial, civilian, and military telegrams in the past were sent via wired telegraph networks.
If Dr. Zhong had time-traveled naked and alone, this task would have been much more difficult—he would have had to rebuild an entire primitive chemical industry and rely on an existing, albeit rudimentary, metal smelting industry to produce a wired telegraph. Manufacturing electrical instruments would have been an extremely difficult task. But now, he had various testing instruments and equipment from another time, as well as a fairly modern industrial system. Manufacturing a wired telegraph would not be too difficult.
First, he had to sort out the power source. The Crossing Group’s power supply system was AC, which was obviously not suitable for a primary telegraph machine. Therefore, the power source issue had to be resolved. This problem was not originally a major one; the Planning Committee’s warehouse had a considerable stock of both hand-cranked generators and lead-acid batteries. However, Dr. Zhong decided to rely entirely on the Crossing Group’s industrial base and independently develop a power source—the 21st-century stock would eventually run out.
For the battery, he decided to use the Daniell cell, which was the least technically challenging. This battery consisted of a copper cylinder and a porous pot placed inside it. The copper cylinder served as the positive electrode, while a zinc rod inside the porous pot served as the negative electrode. The porous pot was filled with dilute sulfuric acid, and the outside was filled with a saturated copper sulfate solution.
This battery was quite successful in its design. It did not have the acid mist problem common in early batteries, could work for a long time unattended, and provided a stable voltage output. In addition, the plates of this battery did not corrode and could be used for a long time.
The Daniell cell was the main power source for telegraph machines until 1875. Although its output voltage was a mere 2 volts, a ten-cell battery was sufficient to supply a telegraph machine with long-term, stable power. Its biggest drawback was that it was not rechargeable; after discharge, it had to be refilled with liquid, which was highly polluting to the environment and could affect the health of the operator. However, compared to the Voltaic pile, which was little more than a laboratory toy, this battery had high practical value.
The raw materials for the Daniell cell could all be supplied by the transmigrator’s industry. Zinc was the contemporary “Waqian” (Japanese lead), and the Crossing Group had imported large quantities of low-purity Waqian from Guangdong, which they re-smelted and purified—the Industrial and Energy Committee had originally intended to use it to make tinplate.
After Dr. Zhong drew up the design, the mechanical factory quickly produced a sample. The outer container of the battery was made of glass. Glass had better corrosion resistance and leak-proof properties than ordinary materials, but its disadvantage was fragility. Fortunately, a typical wired telegraph machine would not be moved around much.
After the finished product was ready, Zhong Lishi conducted a short-circuit spark discharge test to verify that the battery was working. He connected two rubber-insulated copper wires to the two electrodes of the battery, put on protective gloves to prevent electric shock, and then slowly brought the two copper wires together. A very tiny spark, barely visible to the naked eye, flashed at the moment the two copper wires touched. The spark was so small that it could only be seen with careful observation.
He then measured the battery with a multimeter, and the output voltage was stable at 2 volts—the Daniell cell was a complete success. Dr. Zhong immediately named this battery the “Zhong’s No. 1 Battery.” The reason for calling it “No. 1” was that he intended to continue appropriating the achievements of later generations—such as the rechargeable lead-acid battery.
There was still some room for improvement in the Zhong’s No. 1 Battery. He then used information from technical documents to process and manufacture a zinc sulfate solution to replace the dilute sulfuric acid in the battery. This was said to extend the life of the zinc rod in the battery. He also had the mechanical factory make a prototype to test two batteries simultaneously to see if this claim was valid.
With Dr. Zhong focusing on batteries and wired telegraphy, Lingao had to continue using the traditional method of sounding the steam whistle for timekeeping. The Crossing Group had not previously paid much attention to timekeeping, simply using the Beijing time brought from the other world.
Before the crossing, the transmigrators, except for a few with special needs, had already switched their timepieces to mechanical ones and had brought a large number of mechanical watches as reserves. All public and private timepieces were uniformly set to Beijing time, calculated and calibrated against the Greenwich Mean Time displayed by the chronometer on the Fengcheng.
To provide public time signals for both the natives and the transmigrators, the steam whistles at the Bairen and Bopu thermal power plants were sounded four times a day: at 6:00, 12:00, 18:00, and 24:00. Inside Bairen and Bopu Port, the Lingao wired radio station provided hourly time signals.
They now realized that continuing to use this time system was unnecessary. First, Lingao and Beijing were not in the same time zone. Second, on the future political map of the Crossing Group, Beijing, located in the north, with its poor natural environment and distance from the sea, would not enjoy any special status—some extremists had already proposed renaming it “Youzhou” once the great cause of crossing succeeded in China.
Wang Luobin’s research group discussed this issue several times and concluded that they could adopt local time in Lingao, which is the UTC+7 time zone.
“Frankly, I don’t see any practical significance for us in switching from UTC+8 to UTC+7, other than satisfying some people’s strange whims,” Ma Qianzhu said, not understanding the change, which seemed more psychological than practical.
“Well, it doesn’t do any harm anyway,” Wang Luobin said. “At least the timekeeping will be more accurate. After all, there’s an hour’s difference. And some people even want to use Lingao time to replace Greenwich Mean Time.”
“No, please don’t. If we change that, a whole bunch of technical documents will have to be revised. It’s too much trouble,” Wen Desi said, also uninterested in the proposal.
Wang Luobin didn’t want to change Greenwich Mean Time either. The most accurate time they had was the GMT on the Fengcheng’s chronometer. If they changed it to Lingao time, it probably wouldn’t be as accurate as the original time.
“We need to establish an observatory in Lingao,” Wang Luobin said.
The purpose of establishing an observatory was, of course, not to observe Halley’s Comet or look for signs of extraterrestrial life. The basic purpose of the Crossing Group’s observatory was the same as that of the ancients: mainly for accurate calendars and timekeeping services.
“Not just an observatory, but also a meteorological station,” Ma Qianzhu proposed. “Weather forecasting is very important to us. We not only need a meteorological station, but also a weather monitoring network.”
“And a hydrological station,” Wen Desi added, remembering that Yan Quezhi had mentioned the need to collect hydrological data for Lingao’s main rivers, which would require at least establishing a basin-wide observation station in the Wenlan River basin.
“Alright, this is a systematic long-term plan,” Wen Desi said, spreading out a large-scale map of Lingao. “The observatory can be located in the Gaoshanling area.”
“Isn’t that area planned for animal husbandry?”
“Besides animal husbandry, the observatory and meteorological station can also be located there. I propose that we make the Gaoshanling area the focus of our next phase of construction,” Wen Desi said. “We should move our research institutions and archives to the mountainous area—it’s better for security. If the enemy launches an attack, Bairen City is likely to become a battlefield. It’s flat on all sides, making it difficult for us to defend everywhere.”
Another issue was typhoons in Lingao. So far, the Crossing Group had not yet experienced a typhoon. According to warnings from several amateur meteorologists, late summer and early autumn were the peak season for typhoons in Lingao. Although Lingao was a coastal area in Hainan that experienced fewer typhoons, their power should not be underestimated—they often caused floods. The Crossing Group’s main bases were either at the port or by the river, making them vulnerable to disasters. The wind damage in the Gaoshanling area would be much smaller, and it was less prone to flooding. As for mudslides, the people at the Grand Library had searched all the records and found no mention of such events in the Gaoshanling area. Overall, it was a safe place.
Gaoshanling had abundant water sources, a good natural environment, and a milder climate than the Wenlan River basin. Its geological conditions were also very stable. In the era of “digging deep tunnels and storing grain,” the local garrison had excavated large-scale war-preparedness caves there. Gaoshanling had a certain feasibility as a strategic reserve base for the Crossing Group.