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...

A Requiem for Charlotte

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?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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!

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

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).