The Further Adventures of The Vagabond Astronomer

My Thoughts On The Spaceship

2011-11-21T18:05:00.001-08:00

As long as I can remember, I've been a fan of The Spaceship. The capitalization there is deliberate; The Spaceship as a concept, a state of mind, a symbol. But I'm also a pragmatist. It isn't enough that The Spaceship look good, it also needs to look perfectly functional within the framework of its universe. If they are real concepts, they should be able to operate within real world physics. Fictional spacecraft also need to look and feel real for the universes in which they operate.

Fictional spacecraft, though, have always been a problem for me. We know that they only have to function for the stories in which they reside. In television and movies, especially, The Rules that apply in our world need not apply (most hard science fiction authors have a fairly decent grip on The Rules, also deliberately capitalized; The Rules are real world physics, if even conjectural).

But I want to write about the one, the singular, Spaceship that I considered the most important in my early life. For those who know me, my choice might be something of a surprise; it is not the starship Enterprise of Star Trek fame. As aesthetically pleasing as that design is, it is simply too futuristic and is beyond the bounds of current physics, even speculative.

The Spaceship for me was best exemplified by a little vessel known as the Eagle, of Space:1999 fame.

When I first glimpsed this spacecraft, back in September 1975, I was blown away. This was a Spaceship! It looked like what a Spaceship should have looked like; it had four large bell-shaped nozzles astern and orbital maneuvering and landing thrusters. It was un-aerodynamic, having an exposed backbone and four large truncated cubes that supported the landing gear. Amidships, the Eagle had a large pod that could be changed per mission. In fact, the whole ship appeared to be modular in nature, as the "command module" section would be used for the front of other spacecraft in the series. Brian Johnson, the series special effects director, designed the Eagle based upon his experience during the making of 2001: A Space Odyssey. He wanted everything in the Space:1999 universe to look perfectly feasible, even if the writers frequently showed little respect for science.

The thing is, though, somewhere along the way, somebody really blew it.

Keep in mind that when Space:1999 was on the air, the title year was not quite two and a half decades out. The show itself could be forgiven at times. Could the Eagle perform atmospheric flight? It did so in many episodes, and was even able to escape Earth-like gravity (even greater at times). The Eagle also appeared to have artificial gravity, but even then it was easy to imagine that the crew had magnetic shoes (my excuse at the time).

Where they blew was around the time the show was winding down, during the dreadful second (and final) season. In May of 1977, I picked up Starlog Magazine issue #7 for the express purpose of getting the Eagle blueprints it contained, and for some article about a movie that was being released that summer (more on that later). The blueprints were great, but a few items caught my attention. First was the range; 16 billion miles/25.74 billion kilometers. Even then, my fourteen year old brain thought this was a bit optimistic, though in space it could feasibly go on forever, physics being what it is. It listed the primary propulsion as nuclear fusion; again, that actually made sense to me, even the hydrogen fuel.

It was the top speed that didn't make sense.

They listed it as .15c. That's 15% the speed of light. That was quite a bit of artistic license. If the landing gear supports were the fuel tanks (made perfect sense to me), that was not nearly enough fuel to allow for that type of acceleration. In 1977, 1999 was not really that far away, and that just seemed too optimistic. What realism the Eagle had, vanished.

The Eagle, though, would still serve to inspire, and for me it is still a fully functional design, if used for lunar and orbital operations only. It turns out, though, that I wasn't the only person inspired by the Eagle. The little movie that Starlog #7 covered, a flick known as "Star Wars", had spacecraft that the special effects crew admitted were inspired by the designs that the effects crew at Space:1999 dreamed up (somehow, though, the Eagle did not rate a mention in Ron Miller's epic tome "The Dream Machines: An Illustrated History of the Spaceship in Art, Science and Literature").

And for me, the Eagle still trumps them, warts and all.

Chasing The Elusive Orbital Dirt Clod

2011-11-20T14:34:00.001-08:00

I tried to chase an asteroid that passed very close to Earth in early November 2011; asteroid 2005 YU55.

That is will how I will remember this years from now; my first attempt to image a near Earth object (NEO). Not that it went well, but like any attempt that results in a degree of failure, it was a learning experience.
It was the evening of the 8th November, 2011. My quarry was coming out of the western sky, very faint, not distant in astronomical terms. It would be one of the smallest objects I've ever attempt to image.

For the task, I was using my Samsung CCTV camera. This camera is fairly sensitive, and can take a series of 5 second exposures that can be stacked. It actually does that on the fly. To capture the images, I chose to use an old reliable method, a Macintosh set up for video capture. For years, my main choice was a heavy, but solidly proven, Macintosh 5260. At over 20 kg in weight, lugging it around was becoming a burden, so a few years back I located a USB video capture unit that works with new Macs, such as our old iBooks. Caveat; it only works with pre-OS X operating systems, so our Bondi Blue iBook would be the computer used.

I was setup and running by 7pm that evening, using the hood of my Volvo as a base. According to the charts, the asteroid was clearing the main body of Delphinus, though still within its boundaries. It was at that time that the camera was aimed in, zoomed and focused. With exposure set, I waited.

There were scudding clouds blowing in from the east, but the sky was fairly dark. The Moon was still low. The camera was working fine. At the settings I chose that night, the trees in the backyard could be seen, pale orange from distant sodium lamps and blurred, their wind blown motion streaked together. They were ghost.

All the stars in Delphinus were visible, and the camera was easily catching the fainter ones. Screen capture was set to 640x480, though the camera was feeding in closer to 500 lines of horizontal resolution.

At around 7:30pm, I saw a tiny streak.

It was small and faint, and the software was having a hard time discerning it from noise. But it was there. I waited to see if the camera and software would work together long enough for me to attempt a capture. The streak was where the asteroid should have been, but I needed to capture it for proof. It was heading east into Pegasus and a rising, brilliant gibbous Moon. It would be lost soon.

I opened the screen dialog box and attempted to freeze the image.

I got an error message.

That occasionally happens on all computers, so I tried again.

Same result.

This was not at all welcomed; when did it begin doing this? More importantly, why now? Especially now?

Then another anomaly emerged. The software appeared to be freezing at points, and when it would resume, it would jump with a blur.

Taking a guess, I reduced image size to 320x240 and tried again.

It froze the image, but there was a processing problem. Instead of what the camera was capturing, I got what can be best described as psychedelic line noise. I tried again... and again. Finally, success, and the image was saved.

After doing this a few times, I decided to open up an image on the computer and zoom in. 320x240 resolution is extremely low, and for the image type, plenty of artifacts are certain to show up. They did; stars became blurry sets of pixels, and the background became a mosaic of very dark, multicolored squares. The asteroid was lost in all that noise.

By this time, the Moon had risen higher and was lighting up the sky. My neighbor John came over and witnessed the latter parts of the operation, so I turned the camera on Jupiter, which showed two of the Galilean satellites, and then the Moon, after resetting the camera to handle the brilliance.

An hour later, I offloaded a few of the images in an attempt to study them. Nothing of the asteroid, and at 320x240, little was expected.

The takeaway is that sometimes even tried and true techniques will break down. Aside from my tablet, which carried my star charts, all of the equipment used is better than a decade old.

Astroimaging isn't my thing, though. I am old fashioned, and the cameras, when they are used, are for the public, to bring in lunar eclipses and the like. Certainly, I could save up and buy a more modern camera. Even after this embarrassment, though, I doubt it.

I am always willing to give it a try, being the astronomical Don Quixote that I am.

Just A Test

2009-10-23T10:53:00.000-07:00

This is a post being done via Classilla, a new browser for classic Macintosh (in this case, OS 9.2.2). It is very important to me that I am able to post from my iBook. This is the solution.

Whither Goest the Vagabond Astronomer?

2009-08-24T16:46:00.000-07:00

It has been some time since I last wrote on these pages. The implosion of my personal life plays no small role in all this; I'm basically rebuilding myself from the charred ruins of me.
Not that this is hard. Really, it isn't. But sometimes, a little revolution is a good thing. I'm using this time to rediscover who I am.
To my friends, rest assured that soon this site will again reverberate with my random rambles, and once more the Vagabond will be on the move.
Soon.
Promise.

Lights Over Arlington

2009-03-27T04:01:00.000-07:00

Map of greater Arlington & Southside showing major light sources

I've written about this time and time again, how the night sky is disappearing from our urban areas. This problem was recently driven home in a very forceful manner.
The astronomical society too which I belong, the Northeast Florida Astronomical Society (NEFAS) is always on the lookout for new observing areas. I decided to check out a couple of nearby locations, the Blue Cypress Park and University Park Library, both in Arlington.
There was a time, though a long time ago. when the light pollution in the Arlington section of Jacksonville was moderate, to the point that Jacksonville University had an observatory. That was almost three decades ago. The situation has changed, of course for the worse.
Like many large cities, almost all of Jacksonville now has severe problems with light pollution, but the situation in formerly moderately dark Arlington was almost heartbreaking. As a teenager, I would visit my best friend Craig, who lived in the northern most parts of Arlington, and many nights, goofing off by the swimming pool where he lived, we could see far more stars; this, only a mile or so further north than Blue Cypress. Now, most of those stars are gone, washed out by a strange charcoal orange color from thousands of sodium lamps.
At Blue Cypress, I wandered out unto the soccer fields and set up my little short tube 60mm telescope. Saturn was up in the east, shining in Leo. The mighty winter constellations were up to the west. The first indication of trouble was the almost complete loss of the Pleiades; they were almost invisible over the Talleyrand docks. The Orion Nebula, even telescopically. was just a hint of its former self. At least Saturn shown some contrast, though Titan could not be seen.
Moving to the University Park Library parking lot, the situation was worse; the bright, whitish lamps completely killed the sky, though Saturn and Sirius persisted. And I was planning on possibly setting up sessions in either location.
Brighter objects can be made out still, of course. I have little doubt that planetary and lunar observing from either location could still occur, and it might even be possible to see some of the brighter deep sky objects. Sadly, for an entire generation of residents, children and adult alike, the night sky is no longer black, studded with hundreds of stars, but instead a strange, muddy color punctuated by just a few.

Coming Soon...

2009-03-20T20:34:00.000-07:00

Jacksonville has a problem with a different kind of pollution...

A Requiem for Charlotte

2008-10-29T18:46:00.001-07:00

There are more things that come out at night than just the stars.
For the past six months, we've been treated to the goings on in an arachnid's world. A small spider had taken up residency in our doorway. She was very methodical; at sunset, she'd come out and setup her web, and before sunrise (usually), she'd have it removed. Her web just occupied a corner but covered a span of perhaps 450mm. She was thorough and neat.
Within a few weeks of her setting up shop in our doorway, she simply kept the heavier threads up and would remove the intricate inner silk, and we let her. She was earning her keep. We named her Charlotte for obvious reasons.
In time, she ceased retreating into her cranny as we came up and simply sat in the center of her web, occasionally shaking it. Even then, it was just a couple of shakes, and then she'd go about her business. It was almost an arachnid wave; "hello, mammalian bipeds!"
In her own way, she was beautiful, with markings rather reminiscent of a grey tabby cat (not unlike my own Lexi, in fact). These were the markings Nature gave her for her role as a predator. Predators in nature are not evil; they serve a very important place. Spiders, no matter how frightening or repugnant they may seem to some, are remarkable. I will admit, they have startled me whenever I've come across a large one in an awkward place, but soon I am simply admiring them.
Orb spinners, like Charlotte, are very common, but she was uncommon. She seemed to have developed a relationship that was mutually beneficial.
Unfortunately, small spiders do not have long lives, and we had no idea how old she was when she made a home in our doorway, though she was clearly an adult, if a young one. As the weather began to cool, she began to slow down. I knew that with the first chills of October she was having a hard time. Her webs were shrinking, her movements slowing. Several nights, she would simply not come out.
This morning, as I was heading out for work, I glimpsed up. She was hanging out of her nook. One of her rear legs was extended. I blew on her once, but she did not move.
She was gone.
I waited until I returned home to remove her. By that time, she had fallen out of her web altogether, and was laying on the doorstep. I carefully picked up her body. I've never cried over an invertebrate, but for her, I got choked up.

One of the things that saddens me is that I never took a photograph of her web when it was in its glory, with her perched in the center. But I at least wanted to remember her, even if in the somewhat macabre death photo above.
She was magnificent, and I will honestly miss her.
Ad astra per somnium, dear Charlotte.

Telescopes as a Measure of Maturity?

2008-10-22T14:47:00.001-07:00

Whilst researching some small telescope designs (an obsession of mine, mind you), I keep coming up with a trend on Google that actually bothers me; too often, it seems, online retailers refer to small telescopes as "children's". This doesn't seem to apply to many of the better made brands (Orion, Meade, Celestron) but to off brands, bordering on "department store" quality (which can vary wildly; the term is at best a misnomer). Some of these off brands, though, are actually made by the same companies (almost all of which are located in China) that make similar instruments for the big names. Just a simple comparison of some of these "children's" models reveals their similarities to their better named kin.
That's the crux of a bigger problem. Our society has unusual views of hobbies that are of the scientific bent, as they are almost always seen as the realm of young people. Admittedly, there was a time in my youth when many, if not most, of my friends had hobbies such as electronics, bird watching, model rocketry and yes astronomy, but today, these hobbies seem quaint. Young people today, it seems, are more interested in computer games, music (nothing wrong with that, admittedly) and sports (again, not necessarily bad) than more intellectual pursuits. Hobbies that lean towards the educational are looked down upon, if not derided, in popular society. The outcast, the loner, is often times portrayed as having hobbies like that; the so-called "nerd". Younger children are many times persuaded into these hobbies to help them learn (given today’s amount of homework, though, I wonder how they can find time), but by the time they become teenagers, the risk of being teased (or worse, outcast) makes them put these things aside.
By labeling these smaller telescopes as "children's", could it be that we are implying that they will best be enjoyed by youngsters or nerdy teenagers? Talk about a marketing strategy that is bound to fail. If these retailers would take the time to examine these products a bit more thoroughly they might find that labeling them as something bordering on "toys" is a bad tactic. It certainly seems to imply a real lack of understanding about the subject, if not a severe lack of interest.

Serious Work With Very Small Telescopes

2008-10-21T17:13:00.000-07:00

I've been giving a lot of thought lately to what the smallest practical size for a telescope can be. The Rev. TW Webb, in his seminal work "Celestial Objects for Common Telescopes”, made mention of a rather small telescope with a tiny aperture that he used for very basic observing. It must also be remembered that Galileo's first telescopes were very small (as was the one used by Giovanni Battista Hodierna for his deep sky observing). While many amateurs shirk at the idea of anything smaller than a 4"/100mm being used for serious observing, it should be remember that many beginners do not have the sort of money that sort of instrument almost always costs.
If a beginner has graduated from binoculars but still lacks the funds to purchase a larger instrument, a typical 60mm would probably suffice. However, I am curious to see what can be done with even smaller instruments. The first telescope I did any serious observing with was a Tasco 50mm, and was able to make out many of the brighter Messier objects. What I am curious to see, though, is what can be seen with a 35mm or 40mm instrument.
40mm telescopes are actually out there. Meade sold a nice one that was available through Wal-Mart for a while. Let me qualify that; the main objective was nice, the rest was somewhat questionable; the diagonal in mine had a second surface mirror, the eyepieces were cheap .965" units, the interior of the OTA was left in bare aluminum and the tripod was a little tabletop unit that was basically useless. However, most amateur astronomers have the parts to overcome these, if not the skill.
What you can expect to see with a small telescope in this range would not be too different from the view afforded one through binoculars. There are numerous books out there dedicated to binocular stargazing that can readily cater to the small telescope user. Under good observing conditions (magnitude 5.5), a 40mm at a modest 20 power can see down to magnitude 10.5, well within the range of many deep sky objects. While resolution might not be great, for basic, lightweight stargazing, it is perfectly suitable.
At this time, I've limited most of my work with my Meade 40mm (named "Vic") to studies into Galileo's and Hodierna's observations. However, I think I might just try some actual observing with this tiny instrument.

Of Telescope Mounts and Magnification

2008-10-06T05:59:00.000-07:00

Ask any serious amateur astronomer and they will tell you that the best type of mount for any telescope is an equatorial one, and for good reason. An equatorial mount allows you to track once you have your item centered. Not only that, but they actually make the task of finding the object easier by means of setting circles. This is crucial for distant, faint objects. However, are they truly necessary if you are going after wide swaths of sky at lower power?

Probably not.
Nothing truly illustrates this better than my 114mm short tube Newtonian "Felix". This small scope has a focal length of just 500mm, an RFT or rich field telescope. Its primary mount is an equatorial, but it is used mainly as a "sweeper", looking for faint fuzzies (it has a very old fashioned equatorial mount at that, one that does not allow the scope to be rotated. That little feature causes problems quite a bit). Does this telescope really need this mount for what it's used for? No. To be honest, equatorial mounts for low power telescopes are actually more of a hindrance than help with low power/wide field telescopes. Unless you are taking images, they are probably completely unnecessary.

Where, than, shall we set the threshold for mounts?
For my purposes, low power is anything less than 40 power (and I seldom exceed that). For most, though, the threshold might be as low as 30. Once you go past your upon threshold, an equatorial mount would probably be a better choice. Based upon my own experiences, I use the following criteria to determine which mount to use.

Alt/Az - "Sky sweeping", open clusters, stellar associations, nearby double/multiple stars, nearby galaxies, some lunar
Equatorial - Planets, lunar, double/multiple star, variable star, distant galaxies, globular clusters, distant open clusters

I prefer altitude/azimuth for a variety of reasons beyond the purely technical, though. They are much simpler and therefore require less setup time (which in the field makes a big difference). It might be harder to locate fainter, more distant objects, but with a little trial and error these can be located by starhopping. There are times, though, when an equatorial trumps these and is simply required.

For the casual reader, though, the choice of mount really depends upon a number of factors, many of them simply personal choice. I think that, really, is what matters most.

A Planetarium of My Own

2008-09-18T09:04:00.000-07:00

I've been wanting to do this for a while, and over the span of two weeks of spare time managed to finally accomplish it; I built my own planetarium projector. Okay, I admit, I did use a commercial "star projector" for the starball, but the rest I managed to hack together.

What's next? I need a dome, of course!

Little Planetarium Project #1

A New Look At Our Milky Way Galaxy

2008-06-15T17:14:00.001-07:00

Since the recent announcement that our Milky Way Galaxy is more than likely a two armed barred spiral, I felt it necessary to do a painting. This is my best Milky Way to date, and in a tip of the hat to Bonestell and Hardy, I decided to show it as a view from a rogue world sitting somewhat above the galactic plane. Our own Sun is lost in the glow, but if you look between the two arms in the lower section, you'll see a small yellow spot. While that's supposed to be a globular cluster between us and the main section of the galaxy, it lines up with where the Sun would be. Nice to know a little better what our neighborhood looks like.

An Anniversary & the New Solar System

2008-04-02T13:28:00.000-07:00

Has it really been a year already?
On 2nd of April, 2007, I started my column at Jacksonville.Com, "The First Coast Sky @ Night". I have covered a whole year's worth of astronomical tidbits, mostly the offerings that the cosmos was bringing to us on a weekly basis. It's been fun, a bit exhausting at times but something of which I'm extremely proud.
It's interesting to note that being a writer is where I started out. After seeing the first run of "Cosmos" back in late 1980, an interest in becoming a science writer began within me. When I began college in 1982, my initial major was journalism. Now, 26 years later, I've done pretty much that, albeit pro bono (wouldn't mind it as a full time job, though).
Of all the people who have passed in and out of my life, the one whom I think would have loved to have seen this was the late Dr. Sylvia Tether. Way back in 1987, during my second attempt at college, she pulled me aside and informed me that I'd make a much better writer than teacher (I had changed my major to education). She was my composition professor and rather impressed with my work. Sadly, she was killed by a drunk driver early in 1989.
At any rate, with all the foibles, bad edits and other little errors, it has been great fun. 2008 looks to be even more fun.

Jamie picked me up a copy of "11 Planets - A New View of the Solar System" by David Aguilar. As anyone (everyone) can tell, I've pretty much embraced the concept being touted here, and have decided that my old "Walk the Solar System" page has to be updated. Looking at doing a completely new page (more than likely at Google), using a Google Map API with the individual planets as markers. It's the scale I need to work on. Either way, should be fun.

Messier Madness

2008-03-13T10:59:00.001-07:00

I've never cared for galaxies. Sad, as I live in one.
Seriously, aside from the little cluster of galaxies in Andromeda (M's 31, 32 and 110), I just haven't cared. For me, going after objects that lie far beyond our Milky Way is the stuff for far more professional astronomers than I. However, sooner or later, you find yourself in the position of having to locate them. Hence the Astronomical League's Messier Certification.
This certificate is given to those who have identified at least 70 Messier objects, record their findings and report this to the appropriate authorities (the League). It so happens that if you deduct the 40 galaxies on the list, you are left with 70 other objects. Sounds easy, right?
Not really. Some of these objects are still faint, more so than some of the galaxies. M1 (the Crab Nebula in Taurus), for instance, is less noticeable than M33 (in Triangulum). There are planetary nebulas that are difficult to pick out under even the best of conditions (M76) and faint nebula that disappear in even slightly light polluted skies (M43). Some of these galaxies turn out to be necessary to the certificate (the M31 group is the best example).
That said, I decided it was high time to get my Messier certificate and decided to nail as many of these even more distant objects during the Messier Marathon that NEFAS scheduled the weekend of the 8th and 9th of March. The clusters and most of the relatively nearby objects I've observed dozens of times before (pretty much all of the clusters on the list, in fact). I figured that it would be a cake walk. That evening, I showed up at the site with my 7 x 50mm binoculars, 4 1/2"/114mm Newtonian "Isaac", 80mm RFT refractor "Benjamin", my new 65mm ED RFT "Bruno" and my little 50mm refractor "Anne", plus eight eyepieces and plenty of hopes and gumption. I was also accompanied by my partner in life Jamie, who was there both for moral and material support.
Nature had other plans.
Late winters here in northeast Florida are fickle. Saturday the 8th was one of those fickle nights. It started out windy, but that died down not long after sunset. That was when the temperatures began to drop. NEFAS uses a pond (actually a forestry service water dip) located in the northern reaches of the Osceola Forest as its deep sky observing site. That there are mosquitoes is a given. On cold nights, a few of the larger variety can manage to get airborne and make numerous strikes, which they did for the first hour or two. After 10pm, though, the temperatures became the threat. The cold manifested itself initially with heavy dew than begun blanketing my equipment.
By midnight, I had only observed 28 objects (though it is probably 27, since I am not 100% certain that I managed a view of M74 at all), and it was now below freezing. A heavy coat of water was building up on all of my equipment, and the slightest breath caused the optics to be almost completely unusable. To further complicate the matter, every break I have ever had, and especially the adhesion that occupies the place where my gall bladder once dwelled, was throbbing. The next set of items, a group consisting primarily of galaxies, was almost at zenith, and needed to be a little further to the west due to the huge light dome that is Jacksonville. It was a good time for a nap.
When I came back out at 3am EDT (2am by my internal clock), it was worse. The frost had settled on all of my instruments now, and my adhesion hurt the worse. I decided to simply pack it in.
A few years ago, prior to the surgery that removed my gall bladder, I could have taken the other pains. But the feeling in my gut just below my ribcage was akin to being stabbed. Couple that with the frustration of not being able to see anything due to the frost... it was simply too much.
The long drive home was not as anticlimatic as I was expecting; I was actually happy. Given the conditions and my physical limitations, I did pretty good for a first attempt, even though I had seen most of those objects before. Before sinking deep into bed and a good morning's sleep, I was more determined than ever to try this again.
Next month. When it's warmer.

Operation Moonpie Results

2008-03-01T17:38:00.000-08:00

This is the culmination of Operation Moonpie... a simple image that shows the size variation of the Moon at perigee and apogee. It's not terribly dramatic, but for a one month period is still impressive.

I am considering doing an Operation Moonpie II, where I will actually go for images of the extreme perigee and apogee. That image ought to be interesting!

Moonpie - Success!

2008-02-28T13:25:00.000-08:00

I have been sick; I just recovered (yeah, right...) from the flu, but today was still the day; the Moon was at apogee, and I had to image it.
So, a little after 6:00am this morning, I did.
Mission accomplished. More later.
Cough.

The Lunar Eclipse, 20th February 2008

2008-02-23T14:21:00.001-08:00

I have a number of devices at my disposal for imaging in astronomy but none of them really dedicated, per se; they are mostly repurposed CCTV cameras (I've mentioned this in previous posts). However, this isn't an impediment; I managed to collect a few, mainly using the Samsung and, oddly, my old Sensortech monochrome, which suddenly decided to behave beautifully (turns out the iris was stuck; it suddenly freed itself. Imagine that).

Of Lunar Eclipses & Critters

2008-02-21T05:44:00.000-08:00

Last night I was outside getting images of the only total lunar eclipse of 2008 (I'll be writing more on that later, including pics). Not long after totality began, I felt a presence next to my left leg.
I live in a neighborhood with plenty of cats, and for the most part they are all friendly. For a moment, I thought that one of them, a little gray tabby from a few houses down, had come and decided to keep me company.
As I was prepared to say "hey there, little guy" and lean over to pet it, I discovered that it was not a felis silvestris catus but procyon iotor... a raccoon.
This raccoon we've named "RJ" (named for the one in "Over the Hedge") and he thinks he's a cat. He's not that old, probably a year and a half, and very tame. But he is still a raccoon, a wild animal.
Wild he may be, but he was just sitting there, little forearms hanging in front of him, looking up at me with a gaze that said "hey, dude! What's up? Got grub?"
I flinched. He ran, chattering. Halfway across the lawn, he stopped, turned and looked at me, and then sauntered off.
I could have shared my beer, but it was an Amber Bock. And I don't share that.

Moonpie Begins - 14th February 2008

2008-02-14T19:04:00.000-08:00

So, tonight, I setup two telescopes and a total of three cameras to collect the first set of images for Operation Moonpie. The weather could not have been better; cool and clear. My old Macintosh 5260 "Sofia" was running beautifully.

The two scopes used were "Bruno" (my new, modified Burgess Back Packer ED65) and "Spindrift" (a classic 60mm design from Meade). Both the color and monochrome CMOS cameras and my old Sensortech CCTV with zoom lens were used; this exact same setup will be used in two weeks.

The images collected tonight will be processed tomorrow. The rest of the images will be captured on the 28th.
Here's to clear skies two weeks from hence.

Operation Moonpie

2008-01-31T06:35:00.000-08:00

The genesis of this idea actually lies in an image I saw sometime back in the pages of Sky & Telescope magazine. Someone had taken two images of the Moon at perigee and apogee and placed them side by side, thus showing the size difference (slight though it may sometimes be). It was pretty interesting and something I have been wanting to do ever since. Thus the beginning of Operation Moonpie.
For this task, I have a number of cameras at my disposal. The most obvious choice was one of my CMOS cameras, but finding a telescope that was capable of capturing the whole disk of the Moon (as opposed to, say, a closeup) proved to be daunting, so I decided to enlist my ancient (relatively speaking) Sensortech B&W CCTV camera with zoom lens. This has been employed before in capturing video of lunar eclipses and constellation shots. The Moon isn't particularly big, covering around half the usable screen size, but it should be large enough at maximum zoom.
To capture the image, my trusty PowerMac 5260 "Sofia" is to be employed. As usual, I'll use my Vagabond Mobile Observatory 1 setup; a large, plastic portable workbench with wheels.
I was supposed to have grabbed my first image (Moon at apogee) this morning at 6:00am. However, nature proved to be unkind, covering the sky with a thick layer of clouds. I will have another chance soon; the Moon will be at perigee on the evening of the 14th February, 2008, Valentine's Day. So, young lovers, harken if you will that big, beautiful Moon, hanging up there in the firmament at a mere 230,041 miles (370,215 km) distance, appearing larger for this special night. Two weeks later, the apogee shot (251,308 miles / 404,441 km) on the 28th. Come on, nature... need clear skies!
Finally, what does the Moonpie stand for anyway?
Nothing. I just like Moonpies.

The Oops Factor

2008-01-14T18:48:00.000-08:00

Nothing is more embarrassing to me then to make a glaring mistake. Thing is, I'm the one most likely to point it out to others. It's as if I were a high schooler who gets a zit just before the prom and makes a big deal about it; "Look at this! How can I possibly survive?!?", almost unaware that I am drawing more attention to it then if I just ignore.
Textual faux pas' are pretty common in this day and age if only because of our dependency on that marvelous invention known as spell check. Make no mistake, I prefer to write my articles in Simple Text or Text Edit (on Macintosh) or WordPad (on Windows). I want a clean interface when I write, for to me it's all about content and not appearance. On the Mac, spell check is built into OS X (except in the case of Simple Text), and they are hard to avoid. There is no spell check built into WordPad normally, however. Once I've finished writing, I usually reopen the article in Microsoft Word (2000 edition) and check for spelling.
What I am not doing, though, is proofreading my own material. I've gotten lazy, thanks to the miracle of technology.
You see, it's not the misspellings that trip me up. It's the words that occur whenever a single letter is omitted.
So, even though I went back and reread my article this time round, I still forgot to read the summary.
You'll notice I circled it.
Really need to slow down a bit. Interesting image, though, the galaxy saying, "Come here, give us hug..."

The Moon Occults Regulus, 3rd November 2007

2007-11-04T13:22:00.000-08:00

On the morning of the 3rd November, 2007, there was a challenging event that took place in the skies over the southern United States and part of the Americas; the Moon occulted the star Regulus in the constellation Leo. For many, this was not too much of an issue, since many points in the midwest and further were still in darkness. Here in Jacksonville, though, it would be occurring at sunrise.

Based upon the information I had on hand, this was going to be tough. I was pretty sure that it would be visible with binoculars and even just barely naked eye. But, I wanted to try and catch it on video. Based upon my experience with the VCR, though, I figured I'd see what sort of still images I could grab. For this, I used my Supercircuits CMOS camera fitted to my Meade 60mm (on an alt/az mount) telescope, "Spindrift".

I also opted to use my Samsung SCC-4201 for wide angle shots.

At 7:00am EDT, I had all of my equipment outside; the VMO-1 with my Power Macintosh 5260/100 "Sofia", "Spindrift" carrying the CMOS camera, and my Samsung, "Sammy". I grabbed my first few images between 7:10 and 7:12, switching between the two cameras.

Notice the bottom image on the left, taken with Sammy at 32 frames integration; you can actually see "Earthshine" lighting the Moon's shadowed section.

Even though it doesn't show, the sky was now medium blue. The contrast was making it appear darker in the cameras.

The first thirty minutes of any occultation are fairly uninteresting. I used this time to grab images and fine focus both instruments (for instance, the automatic focus feature on Sammy was turned off and had to be reset). At 7:31, it was time to begin recording the final series of images. Sammy obtained the following image as Spindrift was fine focused.

The sky was now brightening up significantly, but due to the CMOS camera's built in gamma correction (automatically adjusting for brightness and contrast), it still looks almost black. I started taking images with Spindrift and the CMOS camera alone. I collected almost 20, but these three pretty much summed it up, starting at 7:31, then 7:35 and finally 7:40...

Going, going, gone.
I could have waited the almost half hour to record the Moon's finishing its obscuring of Regulus, but instead decided to pack it in. It would probably have been too bright anyway.
Still, it was a wonderful way to test out my equipment and make the best of what I have. And for what I have, I am truly thankful.

Grabbing The Comet

2007-11-04T12:44:00.000-08:00

I do video astronomy. For that purpose, I have a number of nice little cameras, ranging from old black and white security cameras to purpose built cameras. There are three cameras I use consistently, however; an old Sensortech B&W with telescopic lens, a basic little Supercircuits color CMOS camera in a purpose built housing and a very nice Samsung SCC-4201. That latter camera has come into its own for this comet.
The clouds finally began to break up after almost a week of overcast, on the evening of the 30th of October. I wasted no time and wheeled my VMO-1 (that's the Vagabond's Mobile Observatory 1) outside with Breanna's TV/VCR unit. At around 9pm, I finally had a hole. Through that hole, I finally caught the comet.

Unfortunately, I chose to use a VCR. This produced a lot of noise, and during the processing phase, I lost color. But I did catch it. The above image, by the way, is a paltry 5x!
It became overcast again, and would persist until the night of the 1st of November. Again, I wheeled the VMO-1 outside, but this time with my Power Macintosh 5260/100 on board. This ex-Torrington School District machine is setup for AV work. I call it "Sofia", and say what you will for its performance, for this task it was superbly fit. Now, I could forego the VCR and send the video directly to the computer. The results were much better.

The comet's golden color was now discernible. While this camera is not perfect, it is certainly a step in the right direction. With the addition of the Macintosh 5260, it has become an inexpensive means to obtain video imagery I might not ever have the opportunity. It also proves to me that what is considered by many to be a useless machine has found utility.

The Macintosh 5260/100 and my cameras, 1 November 2007

I suspect that there will be more adventures with this gear coming soon.

A Constellation, A Comet & A Missed Opportunity

2007-11-04T12:34:00.001-08:00

So, there I am, Tuesday night, 23rd October 2007, preparing my souped up video camera to grab some images of Perseus. For the past couple of weeks, my column has run a series of articles regarding the Andromeda/Cassiopeia/Perseus myth. Since this week the series wraps up in Perseus, I wanted to grab some images of the more interesting objects within the constellation, namely the Perseus III OB association (one of my favorite objects).

The camera has had some work done lately. It now sports a better looking mount, made from corrugated plastic, some hardware and JB Weld, fixed snuggly beneath the main housing with very strong double sided tape. Not only has the greatly improved the sturdiness of the system, it also looks much better. I've also decided to employ my wheeled "Mobile Observatory 1", a combo toolbox/workbench with wheels. All was set for the night of the 23rd of October.

I was wheeling my equipment outside when the clouds began moving in. Perseus was still behind the trees; it was not quite 9:15. But I suspected that it would be high too late, that it would be obscured.

Indeed, I was to be proven correct.
As I was beginning to pull the extension cord outside, a sold line of overcast began to come up from the south, completely obscuring the sky for a large swath save for some sections above the east and west horizons. Adding insult to injury… it began to sprinkle.

Meanwhile, short period Comet 16P/Holmes was preparing to do something extraordinary amidst that very stellar association I intended to video.

It pains me so much to think I could have caught that flare real time. I understand how Charlie Brown must have felt whenever that football was yanked aside.

Ugh.

A Celebration; Four Centuries of Telescopes

2007-10-02T19:29:00.000-07:00

It's raining outside as I write this. Northeast Florida is under a low pressure system that is producing a very nasty northeaster, with gales roaring in from off the Atlantic, rain coming sporadically. This is the second night of the "Great World Wide Star Count", a naked eye event that runs from the 1st to the 15th, and for the second night in a row, I'm stuck indoors as the stars have been hidden behind thick blankets of fast moving clouds. Today, though, is important not to naked eye astronomy but to a tool and the role it has come to play in this pursuit.

Today is the 2nd of October, 2007. Three hundred and ninety nine years ago, one Hans Lippershey announced that he had "invented" what would for a short time be known as a "Dutch perspective glass". He created this by placing two lenses, one larger with a long focal length, the other smaller and shorter in focal length, within a tube and thus magnifying objects some distance away.

The legend goes that two children in his workshop actually discovered this, though chances are good that others before him also created similar instruments. But no matter; he was the first to try and patent it (the Dutch authorities didn't allow the patent, though they did have him produce a number of such instruments for them).

Within a few months, Galileo Galilei, who had heard about these wonderful instruments, set about creating one for himself, improving the design and naming his version a "telescope". He would be the first to aim one towards the heavens in late 1609, and forever changed science and our understanding of the world around us.

Next year is the beginning of the 400th anniversary of this wonderful tool. The International Astronomical Union has designated 2009 the International Year of Astronomy. But in my mind, the time period needs to start on the 2nd of October, 2008 and run through the 15th of January 2010, when Galileo realized that four attendant stars near Jupiter were actually moons.

Fifteen months seems like a fair way to celebrate 400 years of the telescope.

Our Moon & Four More

2007-09-19T17:58:00.001-07:00

Time to resume Vagabonding, and to start things off, I've decided to do something of a little comparison. On Friday night, the 21st of September, the Moon will be slightly past first quarter and sitting high enough in the sky to make viewing good. Normally, for most astronomers, the Moon is a nuisance; the amount of light it reflects (notice; I said reflects and not emits) is considerable, and only the brightest objects can be seen with relative ease. The Moon, though, is quite worthy of observation, and I, for one, always try to observe it whenever possible, regardless of its phase.

Most of the detail we will see in this session will be along the terminator, where the shadows are still long (I've written about this in my "First Coast Sky @ Night" column). Those shadows add the necessary contrast for bringing out detail normally hidden from view. As you move away from the terminator and towards the limb (the edge of the sphere itself), you'll notice that the shadows diminish in length and detail is slowly erased due to an ever increasing angle of sunlight. Still, there is much that can be seen.

But Luna, our Moon, is only one of five we should be able to see that night. To find the others, we need to locate the planet Jupiter.

Jupiter is currently residing in the constellation Scorpius in the southern sky and is prominent just after sunset. You'll have no trouble at all locating the planet, as it will be by far the brightest object in the southern sky. It is far brighter than the red star Antares, which lies nearby. Once you've located Jupiter, a look through even a small telescope will reveal four small star-like objects sitting very close to the disk, the Galilean Satellites. The instruments I'll be using on Friday night will only allow us to view these four, though it should be remembered that Jupiter has an enormous retinue of moons, over seventy at last count. These four, its largest satellites, are planets in their own right, with Ganymede even larger than the planet Mercury.

The Vagabond Astronomer will be set up in the west parking lot at Ed Austin Regional Park in East Arlington after 8:00pm. To locate the site, I've included a map to help out. Hope to see you there!

ADDENDUM - 21 Sept.

A tropical depression formed in the Gulf of Mexico from a series of storms that crossed the state of Florida today. The weather deteriorated and ended up clouding up the night, so the little event was called off. Sigh. Oh well, there is next week...

The Vagabond Astronomer Visits Springfield

2007-07-18T18:59:00.000-07:00

Thanks to Simpsonize Me, I'm now a real "character"...

(yes, I added the telescope...)

Largest Planetarium Dome - Infinite In All Directions

2007-07-04T20:33:00.000-07:00

I read today in "Sky & Telescope" about the Shoemaker Open-Sky Planetarium in Chico, California. What's so special about this facility? Its outdoors; there is no dome. For all intents and purposes, it is a traditional planetarium minus a projector and a dome on which to project.
Who'd have thought?
For the past few years, I've been toying with the idea of either making a portable planetarium or building a small dome in some equally small community. Well, this little idea pretty much blew me away. It seems that all this time I was missing the point; who needs a portable planetarium when you have the whole sky, and let's face it, it follows you wherever you go. Think about it; all you really need is a laser pointer. The visitors can bring their own lawn chairs or other contrivances (inflatable mattresses to basically look straight up would be nice).
What is needed to make this idea really work is other media.
At the Shoemaker, they have computer guided telescopes with cameras attached. Each of the visitors is given a small handheld viewer to see the objects selected.
Nice. Complicated but nice.
What makes a proper planetarium work is the other media present. The sky by itself is great, but if you're talking about, say, M57, the Ring Nebula in Lyra, you need to go a step further, otherwise you're pointing towards what appears to be a blank spot between two stars. Either a canned image or a live CCD image would be just spectacular. The trick is how to present it. Perhaps an LCD projector and screen located in the center of the gathering, one that can be completely blackened with a simple shutter mechanism.
This has potential. Must dwell on this some more.

So Little Time...

2007-06-04T18:37:00.002-07:00

I've been very busy. Life has a way of doing that to you; it sneaks up on and swallows all of your spare time to the point where things that matter so much to you suddenly get placed further and further on the back-burner, to the point where they verge on being forgotten altogether.
While that's not the case with my love for astronomy (I've started a column and have been writing it for the past two months), it has become the case with my Vagabonding.
I just don't do it as much as I once did. And that's sad for me.
What I loved so much about my form of astronomy is that I didn't have schedules to keep, agendas to order. I just picked a night, a location, and I did it. Very simple. It was sidewalk astronomy with an edge. It worked for me.
It's not that I haven't done events, I've done several in the past month alone. But these were always meticulously planned and plotted The spontaneity ceased to matter. Now, don't get me wrong, the NEFAS sponsored events have to be organized. Not that I have anything against organization; for those events to run properly, there has to be organization. At least a basic plan of some sort.
The whole idea behind the Vagabond Astronomer was to bring the stars to the people; "One man, on a mission...". They were random events. Set up the scopes where the people are, that was the idea. Book store parking lots, city parks, sidewalks. If there was room for telescope or two, I'd try to be there.
Even beyond that, though, is the issue of time. Somehow, I've managed to mismanage my time to the point where I can't set aside even a few hours a week, even just a couple, for this noble (and yes, it is) endeavor. I don't watch much television (darned little at all, in fact). Surely, I can fit this in.
I also miss writing on this blog. Somehow, the column has supplanted the blog, but it's not nearly as personal. It isn't necessary for the two to dovetail into one another, they should remain separate. How long does it take me to write? Not much time at all, in fact, once the creative juices are flowing. And when it comes to astronomy, my mind is, well, always on it. I won't lie about that; I am obsessed with it! And I want to share that. And I've not been doing it as well as I used to.
How long will it be before the Vagabond is up and running again? Sooner than you think.
I hope.

Telescopes & People

2007-04-27T09:23:00.000-07:00

I've made many discoveries in the past twelve years as a space advocate and astronomy educator. When dealing with a visually attuned public, you need visuals, be they videos, slide shows or models. The discoveries I made deal with the fragile nature of these items.
The first thing I discovered is that regular commercial model kits are far too fragile, the more detailed the more fragile. Many has been the time that a model of the space shuttle has returned to me with parts askew. So, I've resorted to making sturdier models.
The same is true of telescopes. Especially when one considers the costs of even a small telescope versus the costs of even a complex model (which is usually in the form of hours spent building it).
The problem is that even simple telescopes and their mounts can be sensitive affairs. True, it is pretty difficult to break a metal mounting bracket, but that isn't the real issue here. The real issue is that, aside from one telescope design, most telescopes are really not designed to be used in large group settings.
The most common telescope mount is the altitude/azimuth (or alt/az) mount. This is the one you'll find on most cheap telescopes and it provides the two most basic planes of movement; lateral and vertical (that is, side to side and up and down). For low power, this is an ideal setup. Their problem lies in the fact that the Earth is rotating; soon the object you have them aimed at drifts out of view. Simple fix; you simply move the telescope, right? Well, you end up moving it slightly in two different planes, but again for low power, this is fine.
Astronomers overcome this by resorting to another mount design, the equatorial mount. This allows the telescope to track objects by being aligned with the Earth's axis; its movements match right ascension (RA) and declination (DEC). Two stay on an object is simply a modest move towards the west. Many of these mounts are motorized and will stay on their targets when properly aligned.
It's that proper alignment that is the issue here. People are people and will want to move the telescope themselves, and in doing so might move it off axis, creating a problem in trying to keep an object on target.
What do you do in either case?
For a long time, I'd only take one telescope on my outings. That's great for basic Vagabonding. When I'm in a class setting, though, it gets trying, so several scopes have to be brought. To keep people from bumping into one another while using the instruments it is necessary to keep them fairly distant from one another. Example; one telescope might be aimed at the Moon, another aimed at Venus and yet another aimed at the Beehive Cluster. The distance between them should be better than ten feet. Sounds easy, but what usually happens is I find myself running from one instrument to another. Good exercise, at least!
Then, a visitor, in their desire to be helpful, turns the wrong thing, sometimes the focuser. I'm serious here, some people think that that will move the telescope, or that the previous person unfocused the telescope and that the target hasn't drifted out of the field but is simply extremely out of focus. In their frustration, they then start to move the scope itself around, pointing everywhere in an effort to find the object. Try as they may, it simply adds to their frustration, followed by the plaintive calls of "Mr. Little? We lost the target!"
Sigh.
But this is not really a grumble, for there are solutions. First, let them know that telescopes are sensitive by their nature and that if something does go wrong, simply call for the professional on site (me). Second, because there will be those who want to help, give a basic explanation of the parts of the scope; which ones they can touch, which ones they shouldn't ("you can move the scope if you want to, but please don't touch the focuser"). Third, and this is tied to the second point, make sure that finder scopes are properly aligned and explain its purpose before your viewing begins. Trust me here; I failed to do that on my last outing as I was running late. There were many very bright people in that group who could have done the job, but since I hadn't done mine, they couldn't help. Lesson learned; take time to make sure they are aligned. By following those rules, a group viewing can be guaranteed to be a success. Believe me, the teacher has been taught!
Now, what sort of telescope is best suited for large public viewings? The Dobsonian. Easy to use, easy to setup, compact mount (try transporting eight tripods in a minivan and you'll long for Dobsonians!), the Dobsonian is perhaps the best tool for the trick.
And I lack one.
Sigh...

A Tale Of Two Worlds

2007-03-09T09:57:00.000-08:00

"Just how many planets are in the sky right now?"

That's a question I've heard time and time again. That is actually a complicated question that has a few answers. The truth is that they are all in the sky... the question really comes down to which ones can you see?
Fortunately for us, there are two fine examples visible right now after sunset, Venus in the west and Saturn in the east. Both are glorious in their own right, with brilliant Venus heading towards elongation (its highest point in the western sky, which it will reach on June 9th) and golden Saturn sitting in Leo, not too far from the bright star Regulus (but far out shining it).

The First Star I see Tonight... Isn't...

(image courtesy of "Your Sky")

A star, that is. Even before the last traces of sunlight fade in the west, Venus blazes, very much like that ephemeral "diamond in the sky". Wait until approximately 7pm ET (8pm EDT) to get a good idea of why this planet is frequently mistaken for airplane landing lights (or a UFO!); it is extremely bright, rivaling only the Moon in the night sky. Right now, as viewed telescopically from Terra Firma, it looks for all the world like a gibbous moon. In fact, when viewed from Earth, Venus goes through phases. This is what Galileo discovered in 1610 (both Mercury and Venus appear to go through phases; however Venus is by far the easiest to observe. You need a pretty good telescope to observe Mercury's phases). When Galileo made his observations of Venus, he confirmed the Copernican model of the Solar System to be correct, that the planets orbit the Sun.

(image courtesy IMSS - Firenze)

Even with a modest telescope, you can observe these phases. However, they will not be truly startling until after maximum elongation (again, June 9th), when it will cease to be even and ellipsoid and start to go through quarter and crescent phases. Not only will the phases be more dramatic, Venus will appear larger, since this portion of its orbit rakes it closer to our Earth. For now, Venus should appear as a small, albeit lopsided, disk. It is best viewed with at least 50 magnification in order to show even this (more on that, but next...).

The Lord Of The Rings

Well, I'm pretty sure that that particular label has been applied to Saturn perhaps too often, but was once applied to yours truly in an article in the Palm Beach Post way back in December 2001.

(image courtesy Palm Beach Post)

But this is about the planet Saturn and not me. So much has already been written about Saturn already but I feel that there is always room for more. Saturn is simply amazing these spring evenings. It passed opposition (when it lies opposite the Sun in our skies, effectively coming up at sunset) on February 10th, at which point it was at this orbit's closest approach. So, it is still relatively nearer to us at this time than it normally is.

(image courtesy of "Your Sky")

It is important to remember, though, that the planet Saturn is already 9 times larger than Venus (and its near size twin Earth) and lies over ten times more distant. Its rings span out over twice the planets diameter as well. What does this mean to us here on Earth?
Basically, it means that even a modest telescope with as low as 20 magnification shows Saturn as more than just a disk; it looks like a grain of rice at low power, and 50x and above show the true majesty of the ring system.
This is a great time for observing both planets, but as summer rolls along and Venus begins its descent back into the sunset, the skies will become even more wonderful as Saturn joins it in the west for a celestial rendezvous. Stay tuned!

The Vagabond will be setting up at Ed Austin Regional Park off of McCormick Road at 7pm on March 13th, near the western most parking lots. While light pollution will no doubt be a problem, we will be looking at two fairly bright objects. A little further afield and later in the week NEFAS and my fellow members will be out at Osceola National Park on the night of the 17th as well.

Hope to see you soon.

Why Do This?

2006-12-19T10:49:00.000-08:00

I just returned form another successful thrift store run looking for used optics. Score this time was a pair of Sears 7 x 35 porro prism binoculars, as well as a much needed (and brand spanking new!) external USB floppy drive for my my iBook plus a Pickett N1010-ES slide rule (it's a geek thing, you wouldn't understand). Total for the entire haul - around $10 USD, the binoculars costing just $2.99 (the slide rule was $2 and the floppy drive $5... and did I mention it was new?). The quest for cheap optics might seem a little obsessive, but there is a good reason for it; optics are not cheap, and my vocation of sharing the stars with the masses requires that I have plenty of tools for the task at hand. Binoculars are wonderful for this, even if 7 x 35s are on the smallish size.
How much do I make off of Vagabonding? Nothing.
So, I spend with no hope for compensation. I have at last count eight usable telescopes plus the parts to make two more, and all of them are being setup for Vagabonding. Again, more out of pocket. And I'm not complaining... this is my mission, after all, my vocation and my gift to the world.
It might seem a Quixotic pursuit at times, and one that might even be fraught with serious problems. But this is my take on it; you get enough people to look up at the night sky, at the wonder that is Creation, and perhaps you can inspire them to think of grander things and see that humanity has infinite possibility. The night skies and the true depth of the universe can seem incredibly humbling, making us seem tiny in comparison (and, to be honest, we are). The universe, though, might be ours for the taking if we believe that we can reach those worlds, around our Sun and the countless others that circle stars nearby and distant.
I especially enjoy working with young people, children. Some of them are genuinely enthralled with the grandeur and the beauty of the cosmos. They have not been humbled down by life and for them the possibilities are truly endless. In his 1977 book "Illusions", writer Richard Bach has a character describe the human race as the "otters of the universe", that in reality we are all fun loving, adventurous beings. This is especially true of the young. For them, there is time and space enough for play and adventure, and for many the universe offers just that. Encouraging children to view the universe not as just some distant, inaccessible place but as a place where we live gives hope to humanity, that we can continue to thrive through adversity; ad astra per aspera.
I've often quoted this but it certainly bears repeating. Back in December of 2002, I attended the Connecticut Forum "Scientific Journey" in Hartford. One of the panelists was Edward O. Wilson, the noted naturalist. Towards the end of the forum, there was a question and answer session and the following was put to Dr. Wilson; "how long do you think the human race will last?"
With nary a pause, he responded "I think we'll last forever, or at least until the end of time."
That is a sentiment I share as well.
So, why do I do this? Because we have within us the ability to last as long as the universe itself, and maybe even beyond that. We have been endowed with that possibility. We should encourage it in each and everyone of us. Perhaps, if we look up long enough and dream of those distant pinpoints of light, we may begin longing to reach them.

Clusters, Associations & Solar System Models

2006-12-03T18:26:00.000-08:00

I admit that the title of this post is probably a bit confusing. Okay, perhaps more than just a bit. But, the Vagabond will explain. As usual.

Stellar Families In The Winter Sky - Open Clusters & Associations

This is a great time of the year to look at some of my favorite objects, clusters and associations. Clusters are just that, groups of stars all moving in the same general direction and gravitationally bound in some form. They generally fall into two categories, globular and open. There are big differences between these two types. Globular clusters contain many thousands of members in a roughly spherical shape (hence, globular) and are made up of ancient red stars. They are fairly distant from our Solar System and orbit the core of our galaxy, forming a halo of sorts.

(image by Robert Little)

Open clusters, on the other hand, tend to be made up of much younger stars and contain only a few hundred stars usually (some may contain more than a thousand). Unlike globular clusters, open clusters orbit within the plane of the galaxy and some lie fairly close by (within a few hundred light years).

(image by Robert Little)

Associations, also known as stellar associations or moving groups, are clusters that have dissipated over time. You see, eventually gravitational interaction and a cluster's movement through large molecular clouds cause them to eventually disperse, causing their gravitational interaction to dwindle and eventually to cease affecting them altogether. The remnants of the cluster are stars that move in the same relative direction, though many times the resemblance to an open cluster persists when they are viewed at a distance.

(image courtesy of "Heavens Above")

The winter sky, which in early December rises not long after sunset, has three very notable open clusters (well, really, four) and a wonderful stellar association. The most obvious of these are the Pleiades, the famous Seven Sisters of yore, also known as M45 and NGC 1432. The best thing about all of these objects is the ease with which they can be found, though one (or is that two) of them is (are?) a bit more challenging. You need nothing more then patience to look for them on winter nights; that and a thermos of your favorite warm beverage.

(image courtesy of "Your Sky")

Looking very much like an even smaller Dipper (and in fact sometimes confused with the Little Dipper), the Pleiades are the most notable open cluster, even though the brightest star within the cluster is only a modest magnitude 3. There is some confusion as to why this cluster is known as the Seven Sisters, though many astronomers believe it is possible that one of the stars, Pleione, may have been brighter once; however, many people with very acute eyesight are able to see more than seven in near perfect conditions (my best friend says she sees fourteen!). When not viewed directly, though, the Pleiades have a strange glow about them, almost mist like. This is in no certain terms due to the large number of faint stars all concentrated into an area roughly four Moon diameters in size (around 2°). The truth is that there are many more than six or seven or fourteen stars in the Pleiades; there are, in fact, several hundred. With binoculars, it is easy to see as many as fifty, but you do not want to use too high a magnification to view this set of jewels. It is best viewed through binoculars or very low power (rich field) telescopes.
The brightest members of the Pleiades, and in fact most open clusters, are blue giants, massive, brilliantly burning stars that are very short lived. Because of their mass, they burn up most of their fuel in very little time, typically no more than a few tens of millions of years, and they go out as supernovae. Many of the stars within the Pleiades are not visible in binoculars, so the sheer number that actually make up this beautiful group remain hidden, only manifesting their presence telescopically or with larger aperture instruments.
As this small cluster moves along through space at a distance of over four hundred light years, it is passing through a cloud of dust. While not readily visible through binoculars (though possibly faintly visible to the naked eye using averted vision), this cloud adds to the beauty of the Pleiades when photographed, like splendid cirrus clouds floating amongst these fine stars.

(image courtesy Royal Observatory Edinburgh / David Malin)

Sitting nearby but not as conspicuous is another open cluster, the Hyades, disguised as the head of Taurus the Bull. When you look towards them, the first star that jumps out is the Aldebaran, the angry red eye of Taurus. This brilliant star is actually less than half the distance of the cluster, less than seventy light years out and is not associated with the cluster.
They Hyades themselves are actually very similar to the Pleiades though much older, on the order of half a billion years, and are more spread out as they have aged and drifted. Because of this fact, they are not as conspicuous a cluster, though a view through binoculars gives it away and shows its true nature. As with the Pleiades, there are many more faint members, giving a total of perhaps a couple hundred stars in total.
As impressive as the Pleiades but many times more distant lie two massive clusters, the famed Double Cluster in Perseus.

(image courtesy of "Your Sky")

Lying several thousand light years away, the Double Cluster, like the Pleiades and the Hyades, is made up of blue supergiant stars; however, due to its distance, even on the most clear nights it appears as strictly two small fuzzy patches in the night sky, lying halfway between Cassiopeia and Perseus. While easy to find in binoculars, this twin cluster is best viewed telescopically, though even a modest telescope (as small as 50 mm) will bring it to life. Many astronomers feel that the two groups that make up the Double Cluster are actually gravitationally linked, that they actually influence each other and perhaps even share a common origin.
Also lying within the constellation of Perseus is a sight that surprised me the first time I saw it, a dazzling array of blue white stars sitting near Mirfak (Alpha Persei), the brightest star within Perseus. This is not a cluster but a stellar association, the Perseus III group.

(image courtesy of "Your Sky")

Again, we're back to an object that is best viewed through binoculars. An association can best be thought of as a cluster that has matured, and like a family whose members have grown up, has begun to move apart, no longer influencing each other and their courses. The night sky actually has many associations; our Sun sits on the outskirts of a massive one, in fact. The only clue that gives away the presence of many associations is shared relative motion by member stars. Because of this, many associations are simply lost to the night. Luckily for us, the Perseus III group is distant enough to all share the same region of space when viewed from our Solar System. As viewed at 7x, the number of stars (around thirty can easily be made out under the right conditions) is startling, especially considering the proximity to other, apparently brighter (though actually much closer) stars.

The Solar System... In Ed Austin Regional Park

At my Freewebs site I've uploaded a page that shows a model of the Solar System built alongside Huffman Boulevard in Jacksonville's Southside. Looking to teach young people in various parts of our vast city, I've found myself looking at other parks and places to set up the same model, and Ed Austin Regional Park actually lends itself rather nicely. These Google Maps images (taken while improvements were still being made to the park) show how easy it is and how the contour of the park lends itself to the task. The Police Athletic League clubhouse actually sits on a rise in this former country club, and if you place our little 142 mm Sun near it, you can fit the entire inner system in the parking lot, while the two largest planets, Jupiter and Saturn, are near the periphery.

(image edited from "Google Maps" )

How about the rest of the Solar System? Yes, amazingly, you can even get Pluto (STILL a planet in my book!) to lie within the park!

(image edited from "Google Maps" )

Why is this an ideal setup, though? Basically, the Sun sits higher than many of the other locations I've chosen before. The advantage, simply put, is that the Sun remains readily visible down the entire model; if our little model Sun glowed, it would appear very much as it would from the actual planets themselves, appearing the same size when measured in angular size (though Pluto actually sits beyond a rise going into the park if you set it alongside the main road). While not a straight line (and again the images are a little misleading; the base images were taken during renovations and therefore not accurate), it does provide us with a useful model, one that has marked advantages over the original model laid out in Mandarin Park.
The Vagabond Astronomer will be at the Ed Austin Regional Park starting at 4:00 PM on the 8th of December, 2006, helping students build his model Solar System. Starting at 6:00 PM (after a picnic dinner), we'll move to the west end of the soccer field parking lot with a few telescopes to view those aforementioned clusters and anything else that might attract our attention. Hope to see you there!

Transits & Transitions

2006-11-08T17:50:00.000-08:00

There are times when the Vagabond Astronomer is perhaps a bit too random. The 8th of November, 2006 is a good example.

What set this day apart from other days is the fact that on 8 November 2006, the planet Mercury made a transit across the Sun's disk. I had plenty of advance warning; astronomy is a science of numbers and very advance planning, and this transit has been known about for many, many years. At least I did help a few friends brainstorm and plan sessions. I decided to do mine pretty much last minute. However, typically me, I decided to use this wonderful event as an educational opportunity for a group of students from Christ the King School here in Jacksonville. It's not every day that you have an opportunity to not only talk about the vast distances between planets but their motions as well, and this transit was perfect for that.

You see, there's a lot more to teaching children astronomy than just science. Astronomy is a subject that teaches about our place, not only here on Earth, but where we are in the universe. It is so easy to get overwhelmed by the numbers, and in astronomy there are some huge numbers. The numbers are just numbers, and there are ways to talk about the vast distances that are far easier than throwing out "millions and millions". For me, it's the use of models that helps. If you can show a child that if the Sun were 142 mm in diameter then the Earth is about 1.3 mm, a mustard seed, they have a pretty good idea that our Sun, a star, completely dwarfs its planets. You give the model to a child, and they become that object. In this illustration, Breanna serves as the Sun......while Madeline is Mercury, Rachel is Venus and wee little Marian is Earth.
The scale that was used is the same as that used for my "The Solar System In Scale" model, but since we were only talking about the inner three planets, we didn't need to cover a lot of ground (though the parking lot we were in would have easily allowed a good chunk of the Solar System... and there are plenty of temptations there for the future!). Once they could see what the distances were like, I went on to explain that the planets do not orbit in the same plane, that indeed each has its own orbital tilt or inclination. With that explained, and by demonstrating how little of the sky the Sun actually takes up, they could see how few degrees makes a big difference when it comes to the alignment necessary for transits to be visible at all.
After the demonstration came the actual viewing session. I chose "Benjamin", my Apogee Widestar 80mm refractor (one that Rachel instantly fell in love with and hovered near for the remainder of their visit).

Again, they were amazed... little Mercury was just a speck against the disk of the Sun, though a clearly circular one. I tried to take an afocal ("through the eyepiece") image of the transit, but this was the best I could do (Incidentally, this method worked well with my images of the Moon, but not for this transit).

Mercury is indicated by the arrow. As you can see, it is just a mere speck.
The astronomy and science aside, there is something important here and I am just glossing over it. The window of opportunity to teach anything to young people is very narrow. To help them grow and develop a true appreciation for the world and the universe around them, you have to encourage them when they are young. Youth is a transitional period in life, and like a planet passing over the disk of the Sun, it can be both a rare and wonderful thing. If we can encourage and inspire them during this phase of life, they grow and learn and perhaps one day will set out to inspire others as well, if only through their example. Get them to look around now, and they will forever find wonder in Creation.

...A Time To Return

2006-11-08T17:45:00.001-08:00

That is to say... I'm back home in Jacksonville. Pretty much all I needed to say here!

A Time To Go

2006-08-15T08:38:00.000-07:00

There comes a point where you find yourself looking around and realizing that perhaps a change is needed. That's exactly the situation I find myself in at this moment. Because so much has happened this summer in my regular day-to-day existence, I now find it necessary to change locales. To that end, I am returning to West Palm Beach fairly soon. The downside is an increase in light pollution. The upside, though, is an area that is far more open to the brand of astronomy that I practice.
I don't plan on staying in West Palm Beach permanently. But for now, it's needed. There will be one last Vagabond Astronomer event here in Jacksonville, and I will post the when and where at that time. My way of saying goodbye to my hometown, as only I can.

50mm Memories

2006-08-02T19:24:00.000-07:00

They say that you never forget your first. I certainly won't. Since 1973, I had owned a pair of K-Mart 7x35 binoculars, my first astronomical instrument. They served me well (and in fact still do, three decades later). But I wanted a real telescope. As an adolescent, there was no way I could afford what I really wanted; a 6"/150mm Newtonian on an equatorial mount. At least I could dream.
When I graduated high school in 1981, my friend Scott Spooner and I ended up over my friend Scott Moots' house one night after a party. He had to go back to his bedroom for something, and we just tagged along, carrying on a conversation (probably about my fixation on the Electric Light Orchestra). In his room, I noticed a telescope tucked into the closet. Just a small one. I asked Moots about it, and he responded, "oh, yeah, it's yours!"
And with that, I became the owner of a Tasco 50mm telescope.
It wasn't great. The biggest problem was really the tripod... what there was of it. It was a table-top tripod, not good for anything really. I had a spare camera tripod, so I modified the little telescope to fit on that. It had two eyepieces, a 20mm and what I think was a 5mm... that got tossed in no time, as it was unbearable. The diagonal was the old standard .965", so there were still some additional eyepieces I could get. Instead, I chose to stick mainly to the 20mm.
My first night with it was memorable. I chose to watch Saturn. With a 20mm eyepiece in a telescope that had a focal length of 600mm, I knew that I'd be looking at only 30x. Still, I was startled. Even at that low power, it was clear that Saturn had rings. I was hooked big time.
I followed that scope with a 70mm, which served me well. But the 50mm was used quite a bit for the next decade. In fact, it outlived the 70mm, as I sold it when I found myself penniless in 1987. Sometime in 1991, the 50mm finally gave up the ghost and was disposed of; it had been dropped and the objective broke.
Still, it was that small scope that gave me my first steady views of the heavens. I'm an advocate of small telescopes. My smallest telescope, "Lil' Bernie", is 57mm, though I do have a classic three draw 35mm, "Hans", that I use for some experimentation (it is optically a nice little scope). Small telescopes have advantages, namely in portability and costs. I've heard it said often that once you graduate from binoculars and want a larger instrument, you should really save up and buy something with a minimum of a 4"/100mm aperture. That's good advice, but for some, that outlay might still be used elsewhere in their lives (for, say, food, clothing and shelter). Small telescopes, 3"/76mm and down, might be a better alternative for them. It's just important that they are steered towards good manufacturers.
The 50mm has gotten scarce these days, being replaced by the 60mm. Tonight, though, I spent half an hour looking on eBay for 50mm telescopes (there are a number of new manufacturers putting them out, but I tend to gravitate towards names I recognize). Nowhere did I see the familiar white tube that marked the Tasco telescopes of that period. I hope one day to replace that scope. I might have instruments many times larger and far more capable. But you never really forget your first. Besides, I can probably find a way to justify it.

ADDENDUM -
Just discovered a review of the same telescope at "Cloudy Nights", "Tasco Model 6TE-5 50 mm Refractor". Yes, that was my telescope!

More Experiments In Cheap Digital Photography

2006-08-01T19:59:00.000-07:00

I just couldn't leave well enough alone.
I decided that I had to try photographing the Moon one more time with the little Mercury point-n'-shoot digital camera. However, this time I chose to use one of my home made neutral density filters. This time... success... sort of.
Most of my image editing is done on my PC, an HP Pavillion running Windows ME. The problem is that computer is currently down; it runs for about ten minutes and then goes unstable, possibly due to some bad RAM (near as I can tell). So, I have to use what image editing software I have on my Macintosh G3 Blue & White, "Alcyone" (yes, I name my computers, too). While Macintoshes are superb graphics machines, I lack the funds to buy the proper software at this time, so I am forced to use some free alternatives, namely Futurepaint 2.1 (running in Classic mode under 9.2), NIH Image 1.63 (which is actually very nice for black and white image processing, also under Classic mode) and Preview in OS X.
Still, the results weren't bad. The first image was taken with "Bianca" (my 60mm) through a 20mm Kellner.

Using Futurepaint, I resized the image and did a little sharpening. After I did that, I used Preview to change the image's attributes, though I should mention that the image is still a mirror image Moon, much as you would see through an eyepiece. I'll correct that later. The results weren't too shabby.
The next image was taken with the addition of a 2x Barlow.

This time, I chose to use NIH Image for the processing alone. The results weren't bad at all. However, you can't really save images in NIH as JPEG's, so again Preview was used to convert the image. I should mention that I have used NIH Image before for grayscale image processing, and the results were always great (In the next month or so, I should have another computer set up specifically for image processing running Ubuntu and Gimp).
There are a lot of ways to record your astronomical adventures inexpensively. Certainly, the day is coming when I will be asked to write a webpage on my methods. Until then, I will always share the fruits of my labors.

The Moon & The Virgin

2006-07-31T19:50:00.000-07:00

31 July 2006 - Tonight was not really a planned session for personal observing. I was at a meeting when I became distracted by the fact that, for the first time in days, the sky was clear. How could I concentrate on the meeting while the heavens were waiting? So, I left the meeting, obstensibly to try some experiments with a small digital camera (a Mercury CyberPix S-550V, pretty much just an aim-&-shoot) through my old 60mm 450mm fl short tube refractor "Bianca". But there was something else I had been wanting to see; our Moon sitting just south of the bright star Spica in the constellation Virgo. Professor Jim Kaler's website has some great information on the star, as well as many others.
First, let's talk about my little camera experiment. Was it a success? Well... yes and no. Yes, it was successful in that it showed that the little work around I found for digital cameras worked (using a small tripod to hold the camera to the eyepiece). The images, however, were overexposed. The sensor that sets exposure does not aim into the telescope, and was pointing towards darkness. The camera's response was to increase exposure time. So, you get this...

That was the best image of the night.
Still, all was not wasted. I spent a number of minutes just looking at the Moon sitting just under Spica. It was an amazing contrast. Spica is the 16th brightest star in the night sky, and was easily holding its own against our obviously much brighter Moon (not that the Moon would actually be brighter than a star; Spica is around 260 light years away, while the Moon is 238,000 miles/383,000 km). The other stars really stood out tonight as well, the rain cleansed air being particularly clear. I spied Jupiter and the Galilean satellites. A few minutes later, I swung Bianca around and viewed Albireo.
But it was the wonderful sight of the Moon sitting in such proximity of Spica that really made the night, as our nearest celestial neighbor visited a maiden, high in the southern skies.

(image courtesy of "Your Sky")

Seeing Double?

2006-07-13T19:01:00.000-07:00

(IMPORTANT UPDATE - Read this comment)

One of the most marvelous things about the night sky is the subtle variety in the stars, and the secrets some of these stars hide. Our eyes allow us to discern color, but our eyes were not created as precision astronomical instruments. Thank goodness for optics, for what we perceive frequently as single stars may in fact be two or more. We refer to these as multiple star systems.

(image courtesy of "Heavens Above")

Let's look at three such star systems, moving from right to left (or west to east) on the chart above. These are Mizar and Alcor, Epsilon Lyra and Albireo.
Mizar and Alcor lie in the Big Dipper (or for our friends in the British Isles, the Plough), an asterism found within Ursa Major, the Great Bear.

(images courtesy of "Your Sky")

It used to be said that anyone who could be able to separate Mizar and Alcor with the naked eye would make good archers; in fact, this is probably just a legend, for anyone with fairly decent eyesight can do it. However, even though they appear to be near one another, they are in fact not a multiple star system at all; they are a chance alignment known as an "optical double". In order for it to be a true multiple star system, they have to be gravitationally bound to one another. Mizar, the brighter of the two, is 78 light years distant, while Alcor is 81. However, with a modest telescope, you'll find that Mizar appears to be two stars itself. Even this is deceptive, for each of those stars are in fact two stars a piece, true binary stars. The star we know as Mizar is in fact the collective light of four!
Next, we move to a rather interesting multiple star system, Epsilon Lyrae, located in Lyra, the Harp.

(images courtesy of "Your Sky")

If your eyesight is particularly good, you can see that Epsilon Lyrae is two distinct stars, Epsilon Lyrae1 and 2. To really appreciate its beauty, though, you need a telescope, for even binoculars hide the truth. For Epsilon Lyrae is a "double-double" when seen through a modest telescope; a total of four stars are visible. There is still a secret hiding here, for one of those four stars is in fact another pair of stars. Unlike Alcor and Mizar, this is in fact a true multiple star system, with the main components taking hundreds of thousands of years to revolve around their center of gravity. The entire Epsilon Lyrae star system lies around 160 light years distance.
This brings us to the most striking object of our tour of multiple stars, Beta Cygni, commonly known as Albireo, in Cygnus the Swan.

(images courtesy of "Your Sky")

Lying some 385 light years away, Albireo is perhaps one of the most beautiful objects in the summer sky if only for its contrast (incidentally, it is my personal favorite star). When viewed through a small telescope, this pale yellow star reveals itself to be two stars, one gold and the other sapphire... and they really look those colors! The differences in the two stars that make up Albireo make it one of the best objects to observe for the beginning astronomer. There are many stars out there like Albireo, but none as easy to find. As with the previous stars, there is more here than meets the eye (or telescope). The golden star, the brighter of the two, is actually a binary star, so a total of three stars make up this heavenly jewel. There is some debate as to whether or not the two main components of Albireo are even truly gravitationally bound, but if they are, their orbital period is perhaps as high as 100,000 years.
The Vagabond Astronomer will be set up in the parking lot of Books-A-Million in Mandarin the night of Saturday the 22 of July after 9 PM. I should have three scopes available, each one trained on an individual object, though I might be coaxed into turning one onto other celestial bodies. If you get a chance, do come by and visit as we look at these beautiful stars that truly have multiple personalities!

Sheer Luna-See

2006-06-22T19:28:00.000-07:00

It seems that whenever someone gets a new telescope or pair of binoculars, the first thing they want to do is look at the Moon. Many has been the time that I've heard some people say "why don't we wait until it's a full Moon so we can see all of it?" Sounds simple enough... it is a "full" Moon, right? However, that's really not the best time to observe the Moon at all.

Let's talk a little about our planet's one natural satellite. The Moon is pretty big when compared with Earth, a little over 1/4 its diameter (2160 miles/3476 km for the Moon, 7926 miles/12756 km for the Earth). In a very real sense, this makes the Earth/Moon system a double planet; when you compare other planets and their satellites, you find that they are much, much smaller, with Pluto being the one notable exception (and a subject for another day). Our Moon sits at around 238,000 miles/383,000 km from our humble abode, making it by far the closest of our celestial neighbors. At that distance, the Moon covers less than 1° of sky, less than your pinky finger held at arm's length. It seems bigger, but that's just a trick of the eye and mind. Ironically, the Sun also covers roughly the same area. By an incredible coincidence, both the Moon and Sun appear nearly the same size in our skies!
Geologically, the Moon appears to be dead, but it is covered with reminders of our Solar System's violent past; thousands of craters. Amazingly, though, it still gets hit from time to time. As recently as the 1st of May, 2006, astronomers using video equipment caught an impact as it occurred. There are other lunar facts that everyone should be familiar with, such as the fact that the Moon has almost no atmosphere and around 1/6 Earth gravity. It's also naturally a very dark color, almost the color of asphalt; its brilliance comes from reflected sunlight.
Now that we've covered the basics, let's talk about the best time to observe. As I mentioned earlier, many people are tempted to look at a full Moon. While this is fine, the video image below shows pretty much what you can expect to see.

(video image by Robert Little)

The problem with viewing the full Moon has to do with a lack of contrast. Since the Sun is pretty much straight up from the Moon, there are few shadows being cast. It's still interesting, just not very revealing. The best time to view the Moon are the phases leading up to the full Moon, and in particular the smallest ones, the crescent and quarter phases. The phase between quarter and full, gibbous, is good for some observing as well. The following low resolution video images were made on the 24th June, 2004 and show the northern and southern sections.

(video images by Robert Little)

As you can see, there is a lot of detail, and the craters and various bumps and gouges really stand out. The next image was taken on the 22nd of September, 2004. This is a close-up of an almost first quarter Moon. During this phase, the large maria (literally "seas") become visible. These huge, dark plains are actually enormous basins filled with ancient lava that has hardened into a basalt. The best time to observe the maria are quarter and gibbous.

(video image by Robert Little)

In this image, which is tilted 45° to the right, the predominant features are Mare Serenitatis, the Sea of Serenity (upper center), and Mare Tranquillitatus, the Sea of Tranquility (lower center). It was in the Sea of Tranquility that the first Apollo astronauts touched down in July of 1969.
After the first quarter Moon, the phases get progressively brighter until they reach full. Then, the phases go in reverse, from gibbous to quarter and then to crescent and back to new. Of course, most of these post-full Moon phases occur pretty late and go well into the morning hours.
Whenever you plan to observe the Moon, though, it helps to have a good guide. There are plenty of good books out there about observing the Moon. Patrick Moore's classic "The Amateur Astronomer" has plenty of great information. One of the most detailed lunar observing books is "Exploring The Moon Through Binoculars" by Ernest H. Cherrington, Jr. There are some great online sources as well. Draco Productions has a simple online map. A more complex map can be found at Observatorio ARVAL's website.
The Vagabond Astronomer will be outside of Books-A-Million in Mandarin on Wednesday the 28th and Friday the 30th after 8pm both nights. Come on by as we take a long, close up look at our closest cosmic neighbor.

A Dearth Of Stars

2006-06-17T15:42:00.000-07:00

There are certain times of the year when it seems that the sky is just uninteresting. There's a lack of bright stars, easy to find deep sky objects and the constellations themselves just seem faint. Here in the northern hemisphere, this is spring and autumn, obviously reversed for the southern hemisphere.

Yet if we live in a galaxy that has between 100 and 400 billion stars, then shy such a dearth? Well, it has to do with the fact that our Solar System is tilted.
The picture below shows the entire night sky, all 360° of it. You'll notice that most of the brighter stars seem to follow a serpentine pattern. That is the actual galactic plane, what we know as the Milky Way itself.

(image produced with Star Atlas v.06b1 by Youhei Morita)

Our Milky Way galaxy is a barred spiral, essentially a flat, spinning disk with a slight bulge near the center and over 100,000 light years across. Our little Solar System is located some 30,000 light years from the center, as indicated by the circle near the top center of the Milky Way map (which, I admit, is based on the best information we have available and is probably still far from accurate. Incidentally, our Solar System would be near the center of the circle, microscopic in this scale. Very microscopic...).

(image by Robert Little)

If our Solar System was aligned so that our Sun's axis lined up with the galactic axis, we'd never want for Milky Way filled nights, and only the view towards our poles would show fewer stars than around the ecliptic (the main plane of the Solar System, the imaginary belt in which most of the planets lie). Instead, our Solar System is actually tilted 62° from the galactic plane itself, almost lying on its side.

(image by Robert Little)

As a result, there are times when our night sky actually faces out through our galactic plane, through less densely populated sections of our local interstellar neighborhood. This is why the stars in the spring and autumn seem to be lacking. That's not to say that it isn't worth still doing; stargazing should be enjoyed all year round. Still, if your wondering why the night sky is so humdrum, just remember we're tilted. It's all in how we're aligned.

Planets In The Western Skies

2006-06-12T10:52:00.000-07:00

Friday the 16th of June looks to be promising from a planetary view point... at least the view from the planet Earth. And the excitement begins just after sunset.

(image courtesy of "Your Sky" )

In total, three planets should be visible in the western sky just after sundown; from the horizon up, Mercury, Mars and Saturn. Let's start with the least visible of the bunch, Mercury.
As you probably well know, doing astronomy just after the Sun has disappeared below the horizon is tough, especially if you intend to look in that general direction. At 8:30pm EDT, Mercury will be just about 10° above the horizon and visible in the twilight glow. As far as planets go, little Mercury is the runt of the inner Solar System, the first of the so-called "Terrestrial Planets" (as opposed to the outer Solar System, which is dominated by the "Gas Giants"). It isn't big at all, a little over 3000 miles (4880 km) in diameter, about 1 1/2 times the size of our own Moon. Because of that, don't expect much even with a big telescope; Mercury is a small planet to begin with, and we're seeing it from over 100 million miles (160 million kilometers) away. The problem locally will be one of haze. We're entering into the hot months now, and northeast Florida does get notoriously hazy this time of year. However, we're also expecting storms on Friday, and they can help to clear a lot of that up. Either way, little starlike Mercury is only the beginning of the happenings on the 16th. A better show is just a little higher up.
From time to time, the planets appear to close in on one another in our skies. Of course, they are actually very, very far apart, but this does make for some great observing possibilities. That's what we'll have in Saturn and Mars.

(image courtesy of "Solar System Live" )

They're going to look close. Real close. The apparent angle of separation (that's geek-speak for how far they appear apart) will be around 1°, or almost two full Moons. Due to the enormous differences in their sizes, though, they will look very different from one another. Mars is a little more than half the size of Earth, 4221 miles (6794 km) and glows with an orange-tan glow. Saturn, on the other hand, is over 17 times as big, almost 75000 miles (120700 km) in diameter. Even though Saturn will almost be a billion miles out (1.6 billion km), it will still outshine Mars!
The Vagabond Astronomer will be setting up at County Dock in Mandarin around 8:00 pm. This gives us the best view west. Because of how crowded the conditions are out there, only one scope will be used, and no, I will not be setting up on the dock itself but next to it. Besides, brackish water and fine optics do not a good couple make.
Hope to see you there.

Practicing Random Acts Of Astronomy

2006-06-07T20:31:00.000-07:00

Why be random?
The late spring months here in the northern hemisphere seem ideal for astronomy, at least for the climate. True, the deep sky really isn't that interesting until summer rolls on in. Fortunately, right now we're blessed with Saturn still visible in the west, Jupiter brilliantly glowing in the east, and for the last two nights, a nice first quarter and waxing gibbous Moon. The nice thing about these objects is that light pollution doesn't really make an impact on them.
Which brings me back to the whole random issue.
At all times, yours truly keeps two telescopes on alert standby; my little 55mm copyscope refractor "Lil' Bernie" and my 152mm (6") Schmitt-Cassegrain "Dyna". Most of the time, they simply live in my car (which, I'll have you know, is a 1986 model Chevrolet Celebrity that sounds and feels like it's trying to break the sound barrier when passing 55 MPH). The nice thing about this arrangement is that it allows me to just setup a telescope anywhere, at any time. There's also a box of eyepieces, and occasionally Lil' Bernie's solar filter.
This means that sometimes I'll post a session here in the VA Blog after the fact. Like now. In fact, not just one session, but two. Done on the spur of a moment. Randomly. Spontaneously (note the use of single words for emphasis. And fragments. Great literary device. Must use this again. Later).
Last night, 6th June, 2006, I setup in the field at Mandarin Park before sunset. Seems a little odd, but the Moon looked perfect against a sapphire backdrop. This was a great opportunity to introduce park visitors to our nearest celestial neighbor, and indeed a few people did partake of this little slice of the sky. It is amazing what can be seen on the Moon even with the Sun still high in the west. That session ended before 9 PM, and was pretty straightforward.
Tonight, though, I did something I've been wanting to do for years. I sat up Dyna and Lil' Bernie on the sidewalk outside of Fort Castillo de San Marco in beautiful St. Augustine, near the water's edge. This was a great location to take in not only the Moon, but because it was later, we were able to catch Jupiter as well. Sadly, Saturn was simply too dim, occluded by thick cirrus clouds, looking like dark mare's tails against a darkening sky.
The biggest problem was one of parking. I had to park over a quarter of a mile (500 meters, give or take) from where I wanted to setup and lug the equipment. I'm not as young as I used to be, but miraculously, I survived.
Most of the people who came up (all in all, I reckon 30 in total) were tourists, save for one mature couple who just moved to St. Augustine from Ft. Lauderdale. In fact, they sat on the sea wall nearby and pretty much kept me company most of my session. The children tonight really made it all worthwhile. They'd look at the Moon and Jupiter, mouths agape with "whoa"'s and "wow"'s.
By 9:30 PM, I decided to call it a night. I was tired and dreaded carrying almost 100 pounds (for you metric folks... around 50 kg) back to my car. The trip home, my car vibrating and rattling as I tore through the night down Interstate 95, sounding at times like it was trying to survive atmospheric entry, I reflected on it all; the
gibbous Moon hanging there over Anastasia Island, the thin, wispy clouds still catching the vanishing rays of the Sun, Jupiter shining like a mad diamond, the smell of saltwater and the feel of a stiff ocean breeze. And the people who came up and wanted to catch their own little piece of the sky.
That's what practicing random acts of astronomy is all about.

The Night Of The Gas Giants

2006-05-17T18:10:00.000-07:00

They may be giants...
Actually, they are, four of them in fact. These are the Gas Giants, the four largest bodies in our Solar System. This month, and through most of June, our night skies will be blessed with not one, but two of them, Jupiter and Saturn. To be honest, these two are the easiest to see from Earth, if only due to their size (however, they're also much closer than the outer two); Jupiter is around 11 times the size of our humble planet, while Saturn is roughly 9 times our diameter. In short, these are big worlds.
Both planets have numerous, notable features. Jupiter, the larger (and brighter) of the two is noted for the Great Red Spot, a huge storm that revolves around the planet just south of Jupiter's equator. The Great Red Spot is so large that you can drop the Earth through it and not even touch its edges. This storm has raged for centuries, and may continue to do so for many more.
Another, easily noticeable feature of Jupiter are its four largest moons. Ganymede, Io, Europa and Callisto; these are the so called "Galilean Satellites", named for their discoverer, Galileo Galilei. These were in fact the first moons found to orbit another world, and were first seen in January of 1610. And they are big. Ganymede is the largest satellite in our Solar System, easily larger than the planet Mercury. In total, Jupiter has over 60 moons; another notable feature indeed!
Not to be outdone, Saturn is also very lovely to look at due to its huge ring system. To be fair, all four Gas Giants have rings, but Saturn's are the only ones truly visible from Earth (unless, of course, you have a 6 meter telescope and really good imaging equipment). These rings are possibly the remains of a moon that broke up, no doubt due to Saturn's gravitational force. On the subject of moons, Saturn has over 40, the largest of which, Titan, is truly unique. It has an atmosphere that is composed primarily of nitrogen but which also has a methane "smog" that blankets the moon. There is a very real possibility that hydrocarbons actually rain down onto its surface. It is in many ways Earth-like, except many times colder. So cold, in fact, that frozen water behaves much as rock does here on Earth, even breaking up into frozen water "sand".
To find these worlds this month and through June, one doesn't have to look too hard. Jupiter simply can't be missed, rising high into the eastern skies after sunset, and by far the brightest "star" in the sky. Saturn is a bit dimmer and lies more to the west. By mid-June, Saturn will begin disappearing into the western twilight.

Not too long ago, Saturn appeared much brighter. Amazingly, it's still bright, but when you realize that Saturn is right now over 877 million miles (1.416 billion kilometers) away, its size and majesty truly hit home. Jupiter is only 409 million miles (660 million kilometers) away, less than half the distance, but of course its also 20% larger than Saturn. Below is a chart showing their relative position (though obviously not to scale) for the night of 19 May 2006, courtesy of Fourmilab's Solar System Live.

For this session of the Vagabond Astronomer, I'll be set up in the parking lot of Books-A-Million on Friday, 19th May 2006 after 8:30pm (See Platial link on the right). Hopefully you can come out and visit as we take in these two majestic wonders and really enjoy the Night of the Gas Giants. Looking forward to seeing you there!

The Adventure Begins

2006-05-15T07:01:00.000-07:00

(Composed while listening to Bela Fleck's "Turtle Rock"... just to set the mood...)
Why am I doing this? "Oh no, not another blog from Robert," I'm sure will cross some minds. But trust me here, there's a reason that this one has to be posted, aside from my usual tendency of needing a creative outlet for all of my (usually misspent) energy.
I want to share the sky. That's what this blog is all about.
Does that mean that there will be star charts and do-it-yourself tips and the like here? Probably. But more than anything else, I want this space to be where I share my experiences as an amateur astronomer and a wee, little human lost in this great, big cosmos.
I'll also be travelling a lot. Let me explain.
I plan on linking this page to my Platial spot. Platial allows you to make maps... all sorts of maps, of whatever you fancy. My goal is to occasionally set up my telescopes somewhere in Northeast Florida and share the heavens with any soul who wonders by, the very essence of sidewalk astronomy.
Why do it this way? Won't there be a problem with light pollution? What can you see from an urban setting? The answers to those questions are because I can, of course there will be and a lot more than you realize.
Come along and join me on this adventure! I'll even post my plans in advance, sound like a deal?
Good.
Let's go.