Ham Radio for Emergencies: our equipment and experience

This Part 1 of an article intended for people who have not explored the value of radio communications because they are not sure why or how they should.  Maybe some old amateur radio equipment languishes, dusty and ignored, in a corner of the attic.

My husband and I utilize walkie-talkies as well as local, regional, and national radio communications every week at our remote home in Alaska.  We have gained friends, allies, mentors, equipment, lessons about weather spotting, check-ups after earthquakes and wildfires, resources and emergency contacts through local, regional, and national emergency response organizations.  Our ham radio experience has absolutely enhanced our confidence of continuing self-reliance in a grid-down situation, and informed us about the local and regional plans for emergencies – of whatever cause or form. Because of our location and the quality of our equipment, we are able to provide communications for emergency search and rescue operations occurring far away.

In this article, we outline how and why we use various radios for communication, their benefits, and how we gain and maintain our skills with them.

Getting Started

Anyone can listen to ham radio, but to transmit, one has to earn one of three levels of amateur radio licenses (from the FCC in the U.S.).   The easiest one, called Amateur Technician, is what I had earned.  I studied a free, online guide and then arranged to take an in-person, one-hour test for about $15.  My husband has passed two other, harder exams, so his highest qualification is referred to as an Amateur Extra rating.  Once we pass these exams, we are issued a call sign by the FCC that allows us to transmit on ham radio frequencies.  I have given my call sign to my children in another state far away.  During an emergency when cell phones do not work (perhaps an earthquake up here), they could contact an amateur radio enthusiast who could reach us through local frequencies that work.

Handy Talkies – local

When visiting friends in various cities, I have seen them text each other by cell phone with various messages, like “please pick up eggs on your way home”.  We utilize our handheld radios in similarly benign situations around our acreage, but also for more significant reasons.

Our pair of older, inexpensive Midland (LXT600PA) handheld radios stays plugged in by our kitchen table. They are powered by batteries but recharged by solar, wind, or generator.  With frequent transmissions, they last about 8 hours without recharging.  Occasionally, we leave them in a pocket and forget to plug them back in.  Unused, they last about 24 hours without recharging.

The rechargeable batteries last for about 3 years, so we bought back-up batteries, which lasted another 3 years.  After 6 years, the transmit button (PTT) started sticking, so we bought a new set.   Because of a “one is none and two is one” philosophy, we have a second pair of identical radios in our guest cabin, which get infrequent use. Thus, we have been able to trade out one when another dies, (like when I dropped one in the wood fired hot tub!)

As part of our daily routine, when either of us goes outside, we plop a radio in a pocket.  If I am in the cabin and my husband is in the woods or doing chores outside somewhere, I might ping him about a telephone call, or ask him, on his return, to bring something back from the food shed, power shed, or greenhouse.  We rarely go from one part of the property to another without taking something “there” or bringing something “here,” thus saving thousands of steps per day.

Another benign use of our handy talkies is for visitors in our guest cabin, which is 500 feet from our main cabin.  The most common use is for them to let us know when they are awake and heading downhill for breakfast and coffee!  They may also alert us to elements of nature they see, such as a marten chasing a hare, or a brown bear running after a moose. One friend whispered a late-night sighting of the aurora borealis – in case we were awake, too.

Twice, we even took the devices with us on cruise ships, to avoid their charges for roaming mobile networks when we just wanted to find each other.  This worked very well, but when we left the devices in our carry-on luggage at the airport, TSA confiscated them.

A more important use of these walkie-talkies at our rural home is for safety alerts.  We announce the sighting of a bear or moose and its location, or tell the other that we hear a float plane descending or snowmachines heading our way through the woods.  Living in a very quiet, remote location (only one other couple lives full-time within 10 miles in any direction), such mechanical noises are very distinctive.  In the winter, when the deciduous leaves have fallen, we can hear motors about 4 miles away, depending on wind direction.  We can tell when a snowmachine is curving back and forth along a nearby frozen creek or headed straight along a hard packed trail, or carving recreational circles in powder-soft snow on a nearby frozen lake.

Very High Frequency – Regional Communications

EFJohnson mobile_5300-ES

Our gear:  Portable/Handheld, Kenwood (TH-D72). 

Antenna:  we replaced the standard rubber ducky antenna with a Diamond Antenna (SRH320A) that vastly increased the range and transmission quality.

Base station, Yaesu (FT-8900R, at our main cabin). 

Antenna: This radio uses a standard 2 meter magnetic mounted antenna that rises above the metal roof of our cabin.

Whenever my husband travels to the road system by snowmachine, he always carries his handheld Kenwood with him, often inside his jacket to keep it warm.  (His cell phone works in towns and some rural locations where a cell signal can reach a repeater, but those are few and far between in Alaska).

By radio, we can hear each other for about the first five miles of the 3.5 hour trek from our home to the nearest road, but cannot hear each other beyond that distance, largely because he descends into river valleys.  However, by testing every few miles along the route, we found a high point where I can hear him clearly.  It is about 2/3 of the distance from our home, and 1/3 of the distance to the nearest put-in point to a road (and a lodge where he warms up).   So he always checks in with me there.

We note his departure time from home or the lodge.  Then, I keep the Yaesu base station on during his travels, and note a half hour range within which I anticipate he will call me from that good transmitting location if his travels are uneventful.   If I do not hear from him within 2 more hours, I can contact locals to track him from the town side or I can head out from this side on my snowmachine because I know his departure time and route.  Fortunately, we have never had to search for him.

Another use of this device is available through the Internet site www.APRS.fi.  If you register your ham radio call sign and carry a radio with you, a loved one can track your progress along a map display on the website.  We have done this both when my husband flies our Piper PA-20 float plane and drives the snowmachine.  More commonly, I imagine, people use this service to monitor loved ones, for example, if a relative drives cross-country or hikes into national parks where cell reception could be limited.

Every day but Sunday, my husband participates in scheduled “nets” which are times when a radio group knows to tune into a specific frequency to log in and pass useful messages.  We use our VHF (very high frequency) radio to connect with members of local and regional amateur radio groups and emergency responders including CERT.

High Frequency (HF) – Distant/International

Micom 3F

Our rigs:  ICOM 756ProIII and Micom2ES

Our HF (high frequency) transceivers enable national or long-distance communications through organizations for which my husband volunteers including the Civil Air Patrol, joint military service MARS, and DHS  SHARES.

High-frequency radios require much larger or longer antennae in order to transmit long distance. 

Our equipment:  

• Two 90 foot folded di-pole antennas are oriented east-west.  They can pick up stations several thousand miles away that are north and south of the antenna.
• The third antenna is a long wire powered by a SG-230 antenna tuner (NVIS) connected to a 167 foot long wire strung through the trees about 30 feet off the ground. It is used for  communications to other ham radio operators in-state.
• A large Log Periodic antenna is pointed Southeast, across the Lower 48 states. It is so sensitive that we can hear stations in Puerto Rico – about 5,000 miles away, and Maine – about 3,300 miles away, when other intermediate receivers cannot.

(This concludes Part 1).  

Typhoon Halong Devastates Western Alaska

When the Storm Hit the Tundra

In mid-October 2025, Typhoon Halong’s 70–90 mph winds slammed into the flat, treeless Yukon-Kuskokwim Delta, pushing Bering Sea water far upriver and across the tundra. Fifty villages reported damage. The coastal communities of Kipnuk and Kwigillingok were nearly entirely evacuated by the U.S. Coast Guard and Alaska National Guard, and flown to Bethel—the only city in the region with a runway long enough to accommodate C-17 military transports.

Kipnuk after

Sadly, the typhoon occurred just one year after Kipnuk received a federal disaster declaration for catastrophic flooding in 2024.

Alaska’s military coordinated the largest airlift in state history, evacuating over 1,500 people. Homes floated off their foundations—some in Kipnuk were carried more than five miles upriver, many still occupied. Roofs were torn away. Boats, snow machines, and ATVs were scattered across the tundra. A barge crashed into Bethel’s only bridge, complicating the rescue of 250 residents who hadn’t evacuated in time. Coffins rose from saturated graves—some never recovered. Infrastructure crumbled: utility poles snapped, boardwalks splintered, and roads collapsed.

Even Bethel, 40 miles inland and home to 6,400 residents, saw significant flooding. Thirty people were displaced, but the most devastating impact was the loss of electricity. Without power, water pumps, sewer systems, and heating systems failed. Roughly 95% of homes lost heat, as most rely on electricity to ignite stove oil, run fuel pumps, and circulate warm air. Fortunately, temperatures hovered around 20°F. Had this occurred in mid-winter, the death toll could have been catastrophic, and infrastructure damage would have soared into the hundreds of millions.

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A Voice in the Storm

Samuel Collyn Symmes, a USAF MARS member and Bethel resident, was the only one of its radio operator within 500 miles. Though never officially activated, he provided critical situation reports (SITREPs) to his commander and fellow operators throughout the emergency.

Samuel Symmes

“Bethel became the central hub for evacuees,” Symmes explained. “Many were sheltered in the National Guard Armory alongside FEMA personnel. About 130 FEMA workers arrived within three days, and over 110 remained a month later.”

Fuel shortages in the villages became a top concern. A local fuel station was destroyed by debris, and emergency supplies had to be flown in—50-gallon drums at a time. The hospital had just two days of backup fuel; the juvenile adult and detention center had seven days for its emergency boilers, which provide heat and hot water.  These needs are normally fulfilled using a waste heat system, just like your car radiator but the radiator is heating the building.  However, in this case all generators fell silent as there were too many faults in the line causing damage to the one and only power source Bethel has.  

The destruction reminded elders of a 1960s tragedy, when Bethel’s power plant burned down during a severe winter storm. Hospital patients reportedly froze to death. Since then, critical infrastructure has been built on slightly higher ground to reduce flood risk.

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When the Phones Went Silent

Phone service failed as towers were damaged and backup batteries lasted only two hours. Generators failed, sparking public outcry—residents could have made cell-to-cell calls locally if power had been maintained. With fiber optic cables down and no cell service, residents turned to what has long connected the region: marine radio.

AM/FM stations failed. NOAA emergency alerts on VHF didn’t transmit. Cell phone alerts were useless. But radio operators stepped up.

Symmes’ communications held strong thanks to careful planning. “My house isn’t on a cement pad,” he said. “Most homes here shift 2–5 degrees a year due to glacial silt and freeze-thaw cycles. Mine is elevated 3.5 feet on pilings driven into bedrock, on high ground which stops the shifting.”

His antenna was mounted on the arctic entry roof—2.5 feet below the main roofline and shielded from prevailing winds. He also maintains a GMRS repeater, with phone patch and a Starlink patch antenna aimed northward across 30–40 miles of open tundra, ensuring minimal interference.  The phone patch was very popular, even having local law enforcement and FEMA stop by to transmit messages on a guest router.  All others were welcomed to use the guest rounter to send messages and VOIP calls to family to let them know they were alive.  

Local hams, though few in number, joined the effort to relay shelter locations. “We gathered info from every source and relayed it over HAM radio to different parts of town to be transmitted by VHF marine radio so people could ask questions, network, and get updates,” Symmes said. “Only two residents in the disaster us used it, but there was traffic on the Alaska Emergency Frequency—5.1675 MHz USB—available to all Alaskans.”

Western Alaska residents being airlifted to Anchorage on a Alaska National Guard C17 October 2025

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Lessons from the Edge

Western Alaska has never had reliable cell service. Communities here have long relied on radio and that resilience paid off during Typhoon Halong.  It’s not uncommon to walk into a house and see a Marine Radio hanging under the kitchen cupboards.

“Urban areas might not have the skills or equipment to communicate when the grid goes down,” Symmes noted. “Out here, we’ve had to be self-reliant for decades.”

He encourages others to prepare: “Build your plan. Add to your supplies over time. I can’t stress propane enough—it doesn’t go bad or need stabilizers. I keep enough for 30 days and 500Ah of battery storage. We were without power for 90 hours, but we stayed warm, cooked, ran water, and got updates from Nome’s AM station. VHF, UHF, and HF radio stayed strong and got the message out.”

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When the grid goes dark, it’s not the loudest voice that leads—it’s the one still transmitting.

Mrs. Alaska’s life in a fly-in only location in the bush of Alaska is depicted in a book available on Amazon:

Log Cabin Reflections.  Lots of photos and self-effacing anecdotes organized by season.