A Fireball, If Ever So Briefly

Last night, at 9:48 PM, I was exiting the van in the driveway when something caught my attention up in the north-northeastern sky. I turned just in time to catch a fireball. It was easily brighter than Venus. Duration was maybe three seconds, tops.

The problem was that the beautiful live oaks that make this part of Jacksonville so alluring were in the way. Still, this object was so bright it showed through the tree canopy. 

It also led to my first fireball report to the American Meteor Society. 

I've seen literally hundreds of meteors, dozens of fireballs and a handful of explosive bolides. I have never taken the time to report the more significant events. Even when I worked as an astronomy educator, this little matter went to the wayside. For me, those astronomical objects of true desire for me, the planets, open and globular clusters, stellar associations and such, were far more important than these errant pieces of Solar System jetsam and flotsam. In light of the interest in the possible recurrence of the legendary Gamma Delphinids, however, I decided to, for once, be a responsible observer and report the fireball. 

From my vantage point, this is the path the object took.

As it turns out, I wasn't alone. There were two other possible sightings from two very different locales; Myrtle Beach, South Carolina and Lakeland, Florida. Taken together, with information gleaned from the pending reports at the AMS site, we get the following. 

The green lines represent line of initial sighting, the red the last. Angles are approximated. The yellow path is a potential trajectory that the object may have taken. Unfortunately, to verify that trajectory, exact times for all the sightings would be needed.

Nonetheless, it was a bit thrilling to catch such a wondrous event, albeit briefly. 

You never know when you have just observed a greater event, and when you contribute that information, you are doing, you guessed it, science.

Next time, better notes.

UPDATE -
The AMS has compiled a total of five reports, of which mine was one. Here is the final analysis -
Event 1267

Three Planets in the Western Sky

The weather finally cooperated this evening to allow me to get some shots of Jupiter, Venus and Mercury in the western sky.

Here it is labelled, for your convenience.

Finally, some of the images worked out perfectly as an animation, so here it is.

Such beauty. Glad to have finally been able to capture it.

Aiming for the Sun

When examining the early designs of "helioscopes", specifically those of Christoph Scheiner, one thing always seemed to be puzzling to me. What method did they use to align the telescope with the Sun?

These days, whenever a solar filter is employed, we tend to use the "least shadow method", that is the smallest shadow cast by the optical tube. If the shadow is fairly circular, you're close, and it then simply becomes a matter of minor adjustments. These early telescopes weren't so forgiving. For one, they had a very narrow field of view, especially the Galilean designs. You could employ the least shadow technique, but you now had the problem of sunlight hitting your screen. That makes the following image somewhat puzzling.

We know that many of these early designs, especially those of Scheiner, had a shield of sorts. In his first design, there was not just one shield but technically two; a smaller one towards the front, followed by the main shade. The main shade was approximately the same size as the "tabella", the rear of the instrument, where the "chartis" was positioned. Since this was all one instrument, all one had to do was align the shadow of the large shade onto the "tabella", and the instrument would be pretty close.

On my little experiment, I chose to try a second shade, towards the back of the instrument. Both shades are about 8" (200mm) square. 

By aligning the shadow of the forward shade onto the rear shade, we were able to aim the telescope.

Not enough contrast, but you get the idea.

In late designs, Scheiner appears to have dispensed with shades. In a more advanced version of his helioscope, the instrument is mounted on an early equatorial mount and aimed through a small hole in the ceiling through which the Sun is visible. This design is advanced yet somehow awkward.

In all the documentation, no mention is made of how the telescopes were aimed. This is purely speculative, but appears to work and truly makes using the "helioscope" a much simpler affair.
(EDIT - It appears as if the second design did have a finder of sorts. According to an article written by H.D. Curtis, "Popular Astronomy", Volume 20 (1912), "the little holes at ε and H served as a "finder."" This is a pretty simple system, using small holes, aligned up with the top of the assembly. Very clever, and definitely present. - RL)

Chasing Galileo's Sunspots

After doing the animation in the previous post, I found myself struck by the amount of detail Galileo put into his drawings, and how they compare to modern observations. His contentious contemporary, Christoph Scheiner, came up with not only better equipment for solar observations (including what can only be described as one of the first equatorial mounts), he also developed methods that would be used for more than a century, and which in evolved form still exists, but Galileo's drawings still look better. The information supplied from the Galileo project at Rice University's website indicate that the drawings that Galileo did of the Sun were around 150-152mm  123 - 125mm in diameter, about  6 " 5". We can only guess which telescope he used (he may have even used one purpose built), but it is certain that it was a Galilean in optical design.

The question, however, is what method did he use? We know that he used solar projection, but what did his setup look like? Here, things become vague. How did he aim the telescope? There are plenty of questions that remain about how he did it.

A few years back, I built a facsimile of one of Galileo's telescopes, and in theory it would be fine for this little experiment in historical astronomy. Instead, I am using the one modern telescope that is most like a Galilean in performance, a nearly fifty year old Tasco 40mm terrestrial telescope. As an astronomical instrument, it is extremely limited. In fact, as a terrestrial telescope it is extremely limited as well, possessing a narrow field and a somewhat dark field of view. That performance is very close to the performance of my long tube Galilean facsimile, in a shorter, easier to handle telescope.

Over the next few days and weeks, I will test out these methods using that old instrument and will, as always, share the results here.
(Edit - The diameters that were initially listed were incorrect; they have been corrected. R.L.)

Galileo's Unintentional Sunspot Animation

In the late spring and early summer of 1613, Galileo Galilei conducted a series of observations of the Sun. At the time, the study of sunspots was still obviously very young. Prior to the telescope, sunspots could be observed at sunrise or sunset (usually the latter), due to the strong filtering effects of the atmosphere at low angles. As the 17th century rolled along, the telescopic projection method of observing became the standard. It was Galileo's protege Benedetto Castelli who developed the method he used. From the 2nd of June through the 8th of July, 1612, Galileo made daily drawings from these observations, though a couple of days were missed (4th and 30th June). If you take the longest set, the 5th through the 29th of June, and arranged them in order, you get a crude animation showing the rotation of the Sun.

(I am not one to take credit where it isn't due. I would like to thank the Galileo Project at Rice University for the initial spark, primarily this page. I would also like to thank Professor Owen Gingerich of Harvard for providing valuable critiques of the work.)

First First Light

Lest anyone think that is a current star chart, let me assure, it isn't.

This is a chart generated from Night Vision for Java (a nice free planetarium

program), and if you look close enough, you'll see a date - 18th June,

1981 (1981/6/18, above the chart). It was on this night that I used my

first telescope, an older Tasco 50mm. It was a great little telescope that

had a pathetic little table top tripod. While I chose to keep the table

top tripod, I re-purposed a Woolco store brand tripod to take the

telescope as needed. That sky you see up there is what awaited me my first

night out with it, and as it turned out, its first light.

For my very first observation session, I set up in my front yard in the

Sandalwood neighborhood of Jacksonville. While we still had light

pollution, as well as the sweeping beacon from nearby Craig Airport, it

was not nearly as bad as it is now. You'll notice that two planets are

fairly close together, Saturn and Jupiter. That night, it was Saturn that

I chose for my primary target, the very first object to be observed. I

would sweep to Jupiter moments later, but once I got the focus on my

little Tasco set, the image of a small, elongated, yellow Saturn set my

heart racing. I do not remember what eyepiece I used initially. I think I

used Dr. Mike Reynold's advice and used my 20mm to locate the object and

then zooming in with the smaller eyepiece, what I think was a 6mm, with

horrible eye relief. Still, there was Saturn, clearly discernible, clearly

ringed, clearly Saturn.

While Saturn may be my favorite planet, I wasn't prepared for Jupiter.

With the smaller, higher power eyepiece in place, it was remarkable. There

it was, the somewhat flattened sphere that we all know and love, with the

Galilean satellites hovering close by. Now my pulse was racing.

As the months went by, I performed many sweeps with that little

instrument. The telescope lasted until at least 1989, when I took it apart

for cleaning and did damage to the objective lens.

The fact that I was able to see so many deep sky objects, as well as

Saturn and Jupiter, with such a small telescope blew me away. What's true

that many of those early astronomers had telescopes that weren't even the

equal of this modest little instrument, and they went on to define the

science so well, to lay the necessary groundwork that future generations

would work from.

Within the amateur astronomy community, you will frequently encounter

people of all sorts, and a good many of them will give you advice like

"stay away from department store telescopes." Those are wise words, but I

also think a bit hasty. Some of those department store telescopes can turn

out to be fine little instruments, if you understand their limitations.

On that summer night, so long ago, my little telescope didn't seem to have

any.
(Edit - the date of my first light is wrong in this entry. It was a Sunday night, and my journal indicates it was 14 June, 1981. The wonder was there, nonetheless. - RL)

This is why you should never do solar astronomy when you're sick.

This is why you should never do solar astronomy when you're sick.

Just A Shot Of The Moon (Or Perhaps Two)

Just some shots of the Moon taken with my Mavica through my Galileoscope.
Not bad for an older camera and a simple afocal setup. First image was
taken on 13th May, 2013, the second the following night.

Some Thoughts on Solar Observing

After my experiments yesterday with my Galileoscope and solar observing, I
find myself thinking more about ways to observe the Sun. The damage to the
inner face of the eyepiece was a visible reminder of the hazards where
amateur solar astronomy is concerned.
Back on the 7th of March1970, I had my first opportunity to observe an eclipse, one that
passed, partially, over Jacksonville, Florida. I was in first grade at the
time, and unlike most of my classmates, I was pretty handy with making
things. They presented instructions to the older children on how to make a
pinhole solar eclipse viewer. My memory gets a little foggy here, but I
also believe that these were available at some of the local stores.
Suffice to say, I managed to make one, but the weather locally did not
cooperate, and soon it became somewhat overcast.
For a few days afterward, though, I used that little viewer to view the
Sun. A few years later, in fifth grade, I found an astronomy book at our
school's annual book fair, and naturally picked it up for something like
$1.98. I was so pleased with it, and one of the first experiments in it
was making a bigger pinhole viewer, one that separated the two pieces by
ten feet or more.
Before I attempted that viewer, the book disappeared from our house. Not
really sure what happened, but I do know that it really upset me.
As time progressed, other ways to view the Sun presented themselves. The
most common seemed to be projecting the image through a telescope and onto
a screen. Prior to my obtaining my first solar filter, that was always the
preferred method.
Still, the idea of viewing the Sun via pinhole projection has fascinated
me. I had the chance to play with the technique again during the 1991
eclipse, which again was a partial one for us here in Jacksonville. The
Museum of Science and History set up booths where visitors could make a
two paperplate version, using aluminum foil to make the pinhole section in
the center of the upper plate. Very simple, but as with other design from
many years earlier, the only real detail visible would be that of the Moon
as it passed in front of the Sun.
Some may be familiar with something called "pinhole photography". This is
a long exposure technique that can produce some beautiful, long depth of
field images. The times necessary to obtain images can be very great, but
if care is taken, wonderfully detailed images can be obtained.
So the question is, what level of detail can be obtained by a long length
pinhole setup, akin to the one from my fifth grade astronomy book?
This is something I am apt to try.
Soon.

The Galileoscope As A Solar Observation Instrument

One of my favorite telescopes from an experimenter's standpoint is my Galileoscope. It has been used with my various video astronomy cameras, my Meade Lunar and Planetary Imager, afocal photography, and of course traditional astronomy. I've been looking at ways to use it for solar work, which is tricky, and of course somewhat risky.

(Warning - looking at the Sun with any astronomical instrument, without the proper filters and tools, is dangerous, period. Not only is it dangerous to your eyes, it is also potentially damaging to your instrument, as we will soon discover)

It was actually Galileo himself who made some of the first solar studies, and used his telescopes in this extensively, primarily through lens projection. These observations were almost always made with the Sun low on the horizon, either at sunrise or set. Contrary to legend, these are not what led to his eventual blindness.

I already have a homemade solar filter that fits the end cap of the Galileoscope perfectly, however due to the straight through nature of the telescope, it is somewhat risky to use, primarily because once you move your eyes away from the eyepiece, you are looking straight down the telescope, and at the Sun itself. What is needed is a shield.

I made a shield from a 10" x 10" (250mm x 250mm) cardboard. In the center of this square, I cut a 2 1/4" (56mm) circular hole that allows the shield to fit smoothly over the back of the Galileoscope dew cap. It should fit flush against the back of the dew cap extension.

Initially setup, it worked great with my solar filter; I normally use a neutral density filter as well, and this fits over the eyepiece.

Here we see it with an afocal setup, which sadly did not work, primarily because the camera has a hard time with focus (wanting to focus on the eyepiece or the shield; you cannot disable the auto-focus on some models). Aiming the telescope proved a little tricky, but was not too difficult.

But what about solar projection?

This is where caution is needed. Even with the Sun at a 30° angle above the western horizon (a point where its energy is cut almost in half), the amount of sunlight coming down is more than enough to damage the inside of the telescope, and especially the eyepiece. The lenses weren't damaged, but the internal face of the eyepiece was.

Still, it worked. I used a circular plastic to-go food container as my screen

One thing I'd recommend, however, is to move the screen back. Optimally, using the 20mm (Plossl) eyepiece, I'd recommend between 12" to 14" (300mm to 350mm) distance from the eyepiece to the screen.

At 8" (200mm); the image is small but bright.

At 12" (300mm), the brightness drops, but contrast improves, allowing for more details.

Using this technique, you can clearly see sunspots. 

The sunspots

Based upon my experiences today, I'd recommend the following to anyone who wants to do solar projection with the Galileoscope - 

• Use another 20mm eyepiece, one that uses metal in its construction. This should prevent the sort of damage we witnessed to our Plossl.
• To help in aiming the telescope, a hole might be cut in the shield that lines up with the sights. This hole should be no more than 1/4" (6mm) in diameter. Try not to look directly into the hole, instead look to see if the sunlight that comes through it projects over the sights and onto, say, the screen or even your hand. 
• Try to focus the telescope before aiming for the Sun. Find some very distant object and preset the focus, not only to simplify the operation but to make it safer for equipment.

As usual, I will share any additional findings and improvements I may make.

But remember, if you choose to try this, remember, again, be careful. And as always, have fun.

The Bucket Solution

One of the biggest challenges facing me whenever I'm doing a little stargazing is, well, my big tuckus. Hours at the telescope get tedious, and for us heavy, older guys, the legs start to ache. Add to that the fact that a few of my favorite telescopes sit low, and you can see how this can be a bother.

The solution is obvious; you need a seat. There are all sorts of folding chairs, and carrying them in your vehicle and unloading them where you plan to set up is easy enough. But what if you are not going to be viewing near where you park? Easy, right? Folding chairs or stools. Now, you've just added another item to carry. 

Let's consider. You are already carrying your telescope, its mount, eyepieces, other assorted odds and ends like repellent, gadgets (possibly a smart phone, tablet or e-reader), laser pointer. Now, we add in a portable seat of some sort. This is becoming a lot to lug. 

There are solutions, such as dollies and other devices with wheels. These aren't perfect either. If the soil is soft, it becomes even more tedious trying to move all of this stuff. 

What we need to do is reduce the number of items to a bare minimum and reduce the number of trips, preferably to one.

This solution might not apply to larger instruments, but for smaller and so called "backpack" telescopes it should suffice. 

The answer is the humble bucket. Five gallon sized.

My initial tests haven't been with one of those readily available buckets but with recycled cat litter buckets. 

The larger ones have a similar capacity to the five gallon bucket that anyone can pick up at the local hardware store. The bucket serves the dual purpose of being a container for lugging most of your stuff to the field and providing you a handy place to sit. You can use the bucket inverted to do just that, or you can buy special "lids" that turn a five gallon bucket into a stool. Or you can make your own; this is DIY astronomy at its finest!

My little experiment with the recycled cat litter buckets proved how easy a concept this is. For most back packer type instruments, two buckets should be the maximum, with one inverted bucket serving as the platform upon which the telescope could sit (they generally have a 10"/25cm diameter). The one that will serve as a stand can carry the cargo bucket, as they are normally designed to fit inside one another. For larger instruments, a single bucket would simply serve the humble task of reducing the number of trips needed to set up. 

Regardless, the bucket solution seems to me to be a great one, especially given my fondness for smaller telescopes. Give it a try.

As for me, just waiting for the next clear night. Anytime now. 

Anytime.

Going Lower Tech

I am typing this on my old Palm IIIxe via its GoType keyboard. I've had this Palm PDA for over a decade and still rely on it for many simple tasks that I'm afraid smart phones aren't really good at. With the keyboard plugged in, it becomes an instant laptop, and many articles have been written on it.

I'm a firm believer, these days at least, in trying to do things more simply.  There was a time when dragging a laptop into the field to do astronomy seemed logical. Now, I'm finding that it really gets in the way most nights I choose to do so. The only time the laptop gets used at all is for imaging.

Many astronomers use portable computers in the field for a number of tasks, including having a handy reference for star charts. There may be an easier way to go about this. What is needed is some prior planning.

For one, there are plenty of smart phone astronomy apps that allow you to guide your telescope, check the position of Jupiter's moons, check the phase of the Moon, etc.  Smart phones, though, tend to be bright, even if you go to "night" mode.

This is where I found that e-readers have a real advantage.

Many of the lower end e-readers, whether they be low costs or simply older devices, use e-ink technology. They are not backlit, instead relying on external light. Their screens, though small, are very clear and easy to read. Perhaps most impressive is battery life; they can run for hours on a single charge. These e-readers make the perfect astronomical companion.

The two units I've used for my tests have been a third generation Kindle (Kindle 3) and a new Nook Simple Touch. 

Of the two, the Kindle 3 shows the most potential. Not only does it handle a variety of e-book formats, it can also display JPEG's, PNG's and GIF's. Create a folder called "My Pictures" and place the images in there. When you access the folder, it launches the built-in image viewer. This viewer is able to zoom in on the image as well, so you do not need to limit yourself to the 600 x 800 resolution of the screen. The hotkeys on the Kindle 3 are "q" to zoom in, "w" to zoom out, "f" for full screen, "c" for actual image size and "e" for reset zoom.

PDF star charts are another matter on the Kindle. If you are not familiar with Taki Toshimi's star charts, you should be. These charts are fantastic, but they are also much larger than the screen resolution on an e-reader. In the case of the Kindle, you can zoom in. Be aware, however, that it can be a little sluggish.

The other e-reader I tested was my much newer Nook Simple Touch, one of the more inexpensive units out there.  While the Kindle 3 has support for multiple formats, the much simpler Simpler Touch is limited to two, EPUB and PDF. Fortunately, images can be converted to PDF's easily with the right software. Unfortunately, on the Simple Touch, you are limited to the 600 x 800 resolution. This, sadly, eliminates the really nice Taki charts. There are still options, however, and the ones I want to cover are free.

A quick search on the Internet can provide you with plenty of free star charts aside from the ones mentioned, but it is very important to remember that these e-readers have very small screens, 600 x 800 on average. Roban Hultman Kramer has compiled a set of PP3 generated star charts that are designed to be used with the Kindle (for those unfamiliar with PP3, it was once used to provide the original star chart images for Wikipedia. It is not for the faint of heart, however). Installing them is very easy if you have one of the older e-ink models (he supplies instructions), and the charts are fairly easy to read, provided you switch to full screen mode. If you have a Nook Simple Touch, you will need to convert these images to PDF in order for them to be used. Also, they display ever so slightly smaller on the Nook, with no full screen, and unlike the Kindle, you can't page from chart to chart. The charts are still usable however.

Another option is to make your own star charts, using some of the various software packages and making sure to create images that are limited to the size of the screen (though, again, PDF's on the Kindle can be zoomed in on). 

The final solution is to look for astronomy e-books, and there are many that have passed into the public domain. One of the books I have tried on both devices is "A Field Book of  the Stars" by William Tyler Olcott . This simple book, first published in 1907, has plenty of very easy to read charts.  Olcott concentrated on what can be observed as opposed to many of the theories that abounded about the cosmos, and it looks as if the charts were custom made for e-readers. One thing I have noticed is that these charts are not centered properly on the Nook; they are off to the right, but fortunately still quite usable.

Another, even older, book is Garret P. Serviss' "Astronomy With An Opera Glass" , initially written in 1888. Much like Olcott, the concentration is on what can be seen modestly, in this case with the smallest of optical instruments available, the opera glass. Like the later Olcott, Serviss does not go much into the theories of the period but instead concentrates on the stars and constellations themselves. My only complaint is that the charts are done white on black. On the Nook, they look fine though a little dark. They turn out smaller on the Kindle, but you can zoom in on them; the Kindle even rotates them to better fit the screen.

There are no doubt other ways to use e-ink e-readers in the field, and these are really just a few suggestions. Give it a shot, lighten your load and go lower tech on your next night out.

Wiggle Animation of Crater on Mercury!

This evening, "Lights in the Dark", a Facebook astronomy page, posted a 3D two color (red/cyan) image taken by the Messenger probe. 

Since not everyone has access to those 3D glasses, I decided to make a 3D "wiggle" GIF animation by subtracting out the colors with GIMP and composing the two resulting images into this.

Enjoy.

The Celestron FirstScope, A Review

My propensity for buying small telescopes tends to be a gamble. Many times, they are just not that good. Other times, there are components that show so much promise yet fall short due to small details (some of these are salvageable). Every once in a while, you find a real gem.

So it is with the Celestron FirstScope. This is a very small Newtonian telescope, 76mm in aperture with a focal length of 300mm focal length. That last number, the focal length, is important, yet somehow Celestron neglected to include it, at least not directly. More on how we determine that in a bit.

So, what comes in the box?

The telescope is very well made for the price. The focuser is set for standard 1 1/4" eyepieces. Around the outside of the optical tube assembly are the names of astronomers, plus the occasional "Galileo 400"; like the GalileoScope, this telescope was made for the International Year of Astronomy 2009, the four hundredth anniversary of Galileo's first telescopic observations. While most of the components are made of plastic, they are very well engineered. 

The telescope is mounted on a sidearm Dobsonian mount. There is no tripod, this is a tabletop design, but one that is very well made. The base moves easily and can be easily tightened if necessary. The altitude axis features a large knob for tightening. 

The instructions are really pretty basic, but then again this is a pretty basic telescope.

There is also a flyer advertising an accessory pack, including a finder scope, something which is not included in the kit. The separate accessory kit also contains two more eyepieces and some astronomy software as well as a carrying bag. This separate kit would be useful for the finder scope and carrier, but we will discuss the eyepieces in a moment.

Now, back to the optics. Included are two eyepieces, an H 20mm (Huygens) and an SR 4mm (Symmetrical Ramsden). 

They yield 15 and 75 power respectively. This information is included on the box, and provided us the necessary information to determine the focal length (for the uninitiated, magnification is obtained by dividing the focal length of the objective, the primary lens or mirror, by the focal length of the eyepiece). By working backwards, multiplying the focal length of the eyepieces by their power, the result was 300mm, our focal length. 

Our main mirror is not parabolic, like you'd find on most Newtonian telescopes, but spherical. A spherical mirror is easier to make, therefore making the price lower (the FirstScope can be had for between $25 to $49.99). The problem is that spherical mirrors have a reputation for being somewhat hard to work with on short, fast focal lengths, and our little FirstScope has a focal ratio of 3.95, making it quite short and fast. Unlike parabolic mirrors, spherical mirrors do not focus colors to a single point. Normally spherical mirrors work well for longer tubes, but our little mirror seems to work fine, but with caveats.

The included eyepieces are adequate, but could (or should) be replaced. The 20mm works the best, but has distortion as you head out towards the edge. It's field is also not terribly wide. The eye relief, how easy it is to view using the eyepiece, is decent, but not great. The 4mm is worse all the way around. It is serviceable, but not great.

It is that smaller eyepiece that pushes this instrument to the limit of its capabilities. The eyepieces included in the accessory kit are a 12.5mm and a 6mm. 6mm would yield 50 power, probably the most comfortable maximum this scope can achieve. However, this telescope works better with lower power eyepieces, ones with longer focal lengths.

I decided to test the FirstScope out on the thin crescent Moon this evening. The included 20mm eyepiece worked fine with the aforementioned considerations. But the view was good enough. Through the 4mm eyepiece, going to 75 power, the field of view was narrower but still yielded a recognizable Moon. Be aware, though, that the eye relief on this eyepiece is not very good.

As I said, the included eyepieces are probably best replaced, though the 20mm is better and should suffice. I switched to an older 20mm Kellner eyepiece, a sort of eyepiece that can be obtained cheaply. The view, while still 15 power, was vastly improved. The field of view was flat edge to edge with no distortion or discoloration.  From there I tried a variety of eyepieces, even some of my better .965" eyepieces, and the views were great.

Additional targets were chosen. The Pleiades looked good even with the included 20mm, but really improved with the 20mm Kellner. The sword of Orion, as well as the nebula, really incandesced, even under suburban skies. My last target was the optical binary Alcor and Mizar and searching for Sidus Luduviciana, their even fainter "companion". Again, satisfactory to great depending upon the eyepiece.

Bottom line - I recommend this telescope, but also recommend replacing or supplementing the eyepieces (you can probably keep the 20mm, as I've previously mentioned). It is great for looking at the Moon, but really excels at sky sweeping, taking in wide sections of the night sky and looking at groups of stars. In fact, if that is the route you choose for this instrument, you can probably do away with the notion of a finder scope entirely and simply use a lower power eyepiece to "sweep" in on an object and then switch to a higher power eyepiece as needed.

Otherwise, it is definitely worth the money, and should make a great "first scope".

My Thoughts On The Spaceship

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

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

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?

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

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...

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