November 1956 Popular Electronics
Table of Contents
Wax nostalgic about and learn from the history of early electronics. See articles
published October 1954 - April 1985. All copyrights are hereby acknowledged.
Wikipedia lists 348 species of
electric fish. Jerry
tells fellow electrical and electronics experimenter Carl that the electric eel is not an eel at all,
but a fish. Actually, the eel is a fish (a
- and I needed to look this up - a true eel is a member of the fish order Anguilliformes, which
the electric eel is not. Having no expertise in the field of eels, I'll leave it at that. Jerry's uncle,
who is an active duty Navy guy, somehow managed to ship an electric eel to him for experimentation purposes.
Doing so might have been possible in 1956, but today it is doubtful. Besides that, how to you mail an
electric eel to somebody? The pair's measurements of voltages and pulsewidths jive pretty well with
modern data. Here is a story about how
electric eels curl to obtain higher voltages for stunning prey.
Carl & Jerry: Eeeeelectricity!
By John T. Frye
Carl was just arriving home after spending a short week-end vacation
with an aunt and uncle in Chicago. He burst in the front door, yelled "Hi, Dad," planted an awkward
kiss on the bridge of his mother's nose; and sailed right on out the back door, across the yards, and
into the basement laboratory of his neighbor and best friend, Jerry Bishop.
Jerry was there all right, and he was just as glad to see his pal as Carl was to see him; but it
was against the Code of Boyhood to show their feelings. Jerry hardly looked up as he grunted a greeting.
To tell the truth, though, he was pretty busy trying to strap a squirming, wriggling something into
the concave side of a short section of gutter trough. It kept slithering through the rubber gloves he
"Holy cow, Jer, what is that thing?"
Carl demanded. "Is it a snake?"
"Of course not, stupid. It's an eel that my uncle in the Navy sent me from South America. I want
to make some tests on it. Put on that other pair of rubber gloves and help me fasten it in this trough."
"Not on your life!" Carl said emphatically as he backed toward the door. "I wouldn't touch that snaky-looking
thing with a ten-foot pole, let alone my hands. Why on earth would your uncle send you something like
that? Has he sprung his hatch?"
... Jerry was trying to strap a squirming, wriggling something into the short section
of gutter trough, but it kept slithering through his rubber gloves ... from a story that appeared in
the June-July, 1956, edition of a storage battery
house organ called Exide Topics that my uncle sent me. What I want to do right now is to double-check
on some of the statements in that story."
"Certainly not. This is not just an ordinary eel. In fact, it's not really an eel at all. Strictly
speaking, it's an electric fish . My uncle says if I'm going to be an electronics engineer I should
know about all forms of electricity; and electric fishes have been stirring electrons for thousands
of years. Pictures of them appear in Egyptian tombs and they are mentioned in Aristotle's Historia Animalium.
In addition to this so-called electric eel, there are five other fishes with shocking power: the torpedo
or electric ray, the electric catfish, the star-gazer, the numb-fish, and the elephant-snout fish."
"Never mind the lecture, Professor," Carl said impatiently. "Just tell me what you are trying to
do with old Squirmy there."
"I want to strap him in this rubber-lined trough so I can find out something about the electric charge
he emits. The rubber lining will prevent his being short-circuited by the metal trough. When I get him
fastened down, I'll slide these little tin-foil strips underneath his body at different points to pick
off the charge he emits. Then, by using the 'scope and the VTVM, I'll know if he has a.c. or d.c. wiring
and how much voltage he puts out."
"You mean you don't have any idea what to expect? And are you wearing those rubber gloves because
you don't want to touch the slimy thing or because you're afraid of being shocked?"
"To answer the last first, I'm wearing them cause I don't want to be shocked. A full-grown electric
eel can put out a jolting five-hundred volts that can stun a horse or paralyze a man. Since eight feet
is about as long as they get, and since this one is nearly five feet long, I'd guess he was full grown.
He acts fully charged, too. An adult eel that puts out only three hundred volts is either sick or simply
not letting himself go. Even a baby eel can deliver around 120 volts - as much voltage as there is in
the a.c. house line."
"How do you know all this? You been boning up at the library?"
"Looks like you've got Old Squirmy pretty well trussed up; so let's start double-checking," Carl
"Okay," Jerry agreed. "First let's see if this eel is a.c. or d.c. According to the eel experts,
the electrical discharge he puts out is a series of rapid direct-current discharges in the form of short-duration
pulses sent out at a rate of about four hundred per second. But these pulses are of such short duration,
about two-thousandths of a second, that the actual wattage output of an adult electric eel is only about
Then suppose we hook Buster here to a forty-watt bulb," Carl suggested.
"He's no good for lighting bulbs," Jerry explained." Those pulses are too short to overcome the thermal
lag of an incandescent bulb filament. Voltage has to be applied to such a filament for about one-fiftieth
of a second before it begins to glow, and one of these pulses only lasts about one-tenth that long.
But he could light a neon bulb, and I'm sure he'll make some interesting traces on our 'scope. I've
got an idea about how to check his polarity, too. We'll simply run his output into this 0.5-microfarad
capacitor and let him charge it up with his pulsating voltage. Then our VTVM connected across it will
show his peak voltage and polarity."
As he talked, Jerry slipped one tin-foil electrode beneath the tail of the eel and another beneath
the center of his body. Leads from the electrodes went to the capacitor, and the VTVM was connected
to read the voltage charging this capacitor.
"Three-hundred-and-fifty volts!" Carl announced; "and the way the pointer swings proves that Old
Squirmy's tail is the negative pole of his battery and the front part of him is the positive pole."
"Watch the meter while I slide this front electrode back and forth," Jerry suggested. "I want to
find where the front end of his generator actually is."
This method soon showed that the maximum voltage, four hundred and eighty volts, was obtained when
the negative electrode was at the eel's tail and the positive electrode was at a point about a foot
back from his head.
"That squares with what the books say," Jerry reported. "According to them, all of the critter's
vital organs are in the front fifth of his body, and the rest is made up of 'electric tissue.'''
"Whatever that is."
"It's a flabby whitish jelly composed of 92% water. This stuff is organized into three pairs of electric
organs. The eel can use one pair for a major discharge, one pair for a medium-size whammy, and the third
pair for a small shock. Each organ is made up of smaller units separated by another kind of tissue that
acts like the insulating separators in a storage battery. The electricity is actually produced in these
smaller units. Each one produces about one-tenth of a volt. Somehow, in some way, the creature is able
to connect these units in series to produce the high voltage discharges. But how he can throw thousands
of 'switches' on and off several hundred times a second in perfect unison is still a mystery."
Jerry connected the leads from the electrodes to the horizontal input terminals of his 'scope and
adjusted the linear sweep until he had two of the voltage spikes visible on the screen. Since the frequency
of the eel's output was irregular, this pattern was not easy to hold, but a sweep frequency of around
200 cycles per second displayed two complete pulses. Once again this proved the books were right when
they said that the eel put out about 400 discharges per second.
"For the rest of our experimenting," Jerry mused, "we should have the eel swimming freely about.
Wonder where we can manage that? He's too big for a washtub."
Jerry and Carl looked deep into each other's eyes and saw the same thought. "Okay," Jerry said, "but
you'll have to go ahead and make sure the coast is clear. Mom is deathly afraid of this thing, and if
she saw us sneaking it into the bathroom, she would never set foot in there again."
Jerry gathered Old Squirmy, still strapped to. the length of gutter trough, under his arm and cautiously
followed Carl up the basement stairs. Jerry's mother, fortunately, was busy talking on the telephone
and never noticed the boys tiptoeing past the door on their way to the second floor. Safely inside the
bathroom, Carl started quietly filling the tub with water while Jerry made another trip to the laboratory
for other equipment he wanted. When the tub was two-thirds full, the eel was released inside it. He
seemed to enjoy his freedom and went slithering around on the bottom of the tub in graceful coils. Jerry
separated the earpieces of a pair of headphones and handed one to Carl.
"Listen!" he said, as he dipped the metal-tipped ends of the headphone cord in the water. Clearly
heard in the phones was a static-like noise. When the eel was quiet, this noise subsided; but as soon
as it started to move, the noise returned.
"Any time he is moving," Jerry explained, "the electric eel gives off a series of weak discharges.
These serve two purposes: first, they warn enemies to keep their distance; and secondly, they form a
kind of radar that enables the eel - which is virtually blind when it is adult - to seek out its prey."
Wait a minute!" Carl interrupted.
"I'm not so dumb that I don't know a radar system consists of a receiver as well as a transmitter.
I'll admit Old Squirmy has a dan-dan-dandy low-frequency transmitter; but where's his receiver?"
"He's got one all right, according to the books," Jerry replied. When one eel in a tank discharges,
all the other eels come to the spot, apparently to horn in on the result. Obviously they know when one
of their fellows is trying to stun something and can judge very nicely where the current is coming from.
But now let's see if we can prove this with the eel-caller I've built up. It's a blocking oscillator
that produces sharp spikes of voltage over a frequency range which is adjustable from about 500 to 2000
cycles per second. The output of the oscillator drives an output tube so as to produce pulses of very
respectable amplitude across these two electrodes. Let's place the electrodes in the water at this end
of the tub and see if we can sweet-talk him into coming over."
Carl did as he was told, and Jerry began varying the frequency of the blocking oscillator. As a certain
frequency was reached, the eel on the bottom of the tub began to stir and swim directly to the electrodes.
When they were transferred to the opposite end of the tub, he immediately moved toward them.
"Old Squirmy's receiving frequency seems to be around 800 cycles per second," Jerry announced.
"Say! That thing really puts the come-hither on him," Carl said enthusiastically. "We ought to patent
"We're a little too late," Jerry told him.
"Eel hunters in South America are already using earphones to locate electric fish and then are employing
eel-callers something like this one to lure them into their traps. But to get back to his built-in radar,
by means of it the electric eel can move straight toward his prey and can detect a variation of just
a few inches. What's more, he can tell instantly if his prey is moving and can make allowances for that
You know," Carl mused, "that's all pretty wonderful when you stop to think about it. Here we think
of electricity itself as being quite modern, but that ugly creature resting there on the bottom of the
tub and his ancestors have been using electricity for thousands of years. What's more, they've been
using it in ways that we think of as being ultra-modern. Since electric eels talk to each other by means
of their electric discharges, we must admit that they are equipped with wireless telephones. Those same
discharges are employed as a compact, efficient, and highly effective weapon to secure food and to combat
enemies. Finally, the lowly eel has been quietly using radar - which we did not discover until the last
war - for countless centuries. It kind of makes you wonder if man - in spite of all his scientific development
and progress - is so doggone smart as he thinks he is, doesn't it?"
"It certainly does," Jerry agreed, "and I think my uncle had something like that in mind when he
sent me the eel and told me to study it. When we work with electricity that is man-produced by batteries
and generators and so on, we sort of take it for granted and forget how magic it really is, but when
you see electricity being generated within the living tissue of a live creature such as this, all the
wonder and mystery of it sweeps over you, and you are glad that you intend to make a lifetime study
Posted July 15, 2016
Carl Anderson and Jerry Bishop were two teenage boys whose
love of electronics, Ham radio, and all things technical afforded them ample opportunities
to satisfy their own curiosities, assist law enforcement and neighbors with solving
problems, and impressing – and sometimes toying with - friends based on their proclivity
for serious undertakings as well as fun.
- The Black Beast - May 1960
Vox Electronik, September 1958
- Pi in
the Sky and Big Twist, February 1964
Bell Bull Session, December 1961
Boogie, August 1958
- TV Picture,
Electronic Eraser, August 1962
Trap, March 1956
at Work, June 1956
Aweigh, July 1956
Bosco Has His Day, August 1956
Hand of Selene, November 1960
or Not?, October 1956
Electronic Beach Buggy, September 1956
Extra Sensory Perception, December 1956
in a Chimney, January 1956
Performance, November 1958
of Judas, July 1961
- The Sucker,
New Year, January 1963
Snow Machine, December 1960
Extracurricular Education, July 1963
Slow Motion for Quick Action, April 1963
Sleuthing, August 1963
- TV Antennas,
a Soroban, March 1963
Fair --", September 1963
Worm Warming, May 1961
Joking and Jeopardy - December 1963
Santa's Little Helpers - December 1955
Two Tough Customers - June 1960
Pocket Radio, TV Receivers
Yagi Antennas, May 1955
Stomping, March 1962
Blubber Banisher, July 1959
- The Sparkling
Light, May 1962
Research Rewarded, June 1962
- A Hot Idea, March
- The Hot
Dog Case, December 1954
A New Company is Launched, October 1956
Under the Mistletoe, December 1958
Electronic Eraser, August 1962
- "BBI", May 1959
Sound Waves, July 1955
- The River
Sniffer, July 1962
- Ham Radio,
Torero Electronico, April 1960
Wireless, January 1962
Electronic Shadow, September 1957
Elementary Induction, June 1963
- He Went
Electronic Detective, February 1958
Aiding an Instinct, December 1962
- Two Detectors,
with a Tachometer, July 1960
and the Pirates, April 1961
The Crazy Clock Caper, October 1960
Carl & Jerry: Their Complete Adventures is
now available. "From 1954 through 1964, Popular Electronics published 119 adventures
of Carl Anderson and Jerry Bishop, two teen boys with a passion for electronics
and a knack for getting into and out of trouble with haywire lash-ups built in Jerry's
basement. Better still, the boys explained how it all worked, and in doing so, launched
countless young people into careers in science and technology. Now, for the first
time ever, the full run of Carl and Jerry yarns by John T. Frye are available again,
in five authorized anthologies that include the full text and all illustrations."