Monday, August 25, 1997

An audience with royalty

What a night! I took the scope out about 7pm to cool down, while I cleaned the swamp (my pool was rather green). It had been a gorgeous day with just a few small clouds.

My daughter Mimi, 9 years old, helped my collimate the scope. She did an admirable job. The scope of the day was my 10" f/5.6 tie-dye.

As darkness started, I just peeked at star images... Alberio, Vega, Altair, Arctutus. I was fairly pleased with what I was seeing.

I went in the house and played on the computer for a while (work). As darkness filled the sky, my son, Daniel, his friend Eli and my daughter were night swimming, getting the last of their summer vacation ya-ya's out.

About 11:15 I took a peek out back. Jupiter was now clear of the trees and the stars had forgot their twinkle. The Milky Way was *obvious* overhead. It looked like a primo night in Los Gatos.

In went the 19 Panoptic. Sheeee-eeeeee-man-eeeeeeee! Look at the detail. Oh well, low power.. only 107X. But still. That baby was a rock! In went the 10mm Meade. Holy cow... look at the moons! Io and Europa were off on the trailing limb, looking like two small beady eyes. The looked like they might touch. Far off the leading egde sat Callisto and Ganymede. As many of you know, I am not much of a planetary observer, but the view of those two moons, compared to the other pair, was amazing. They were resolved as very definate discs. In fact, all four moons did. But C and G were "big" discs comparatively. G looked yellowish, G somewhat paler, maybe a bit rusty. They were set much wider apart than the smaller close pair.

Well, Jupiter put on a kingly performance. In went the 7.5mm Orion Ultrascopic (190X).... really a decent ocular for the target. There were moments of such clarity, I found myself not breathing. It was astro-apnea. Almost dead on the meridian of the Northern Equatorial Belt, a sight I'd never seen before. Geesh, I hope this is right, becuase I swear I saw it, as did my wife, sister-in-law and Mimi.

There sat, two shadows. Io and Eurpoa's dark twins. One was in the NEB, at the northern edge, the other just below it, off the NEB in the equatorial zone. Toward the trailing edge, just next to the shadow in the NEB, was a large white oval. In moments of extreme clarity there were many white spots in the equatorial zone just inside the NEB. Shooting up from the NEB into the equatorial zone just off the meridian toward the trailing edge was what I assume to be a very large festoon, like a diagonal slash pointing back toward the trailing limb.

Observing the planet for 45 minutes, the positions of Io and Europa makedly changed. They were dancing together around their magnificient host. Now, they lay diagonal to eachother relative to Jupiter. Their shadows pushed further toward the leading edge.

My wife and sister-in-law would gasp during moments of extreme still and transparency. It was transfixing.

Looking up, left of the large oak in my neighbors yard, I noticed the Great Square of Pegasus up high. Saturn? :-) Just in position. Where in the yard could I haul the scope? Well, I found that I had just enough room to place the scope between the redwood deck and pool. I could balance on the coping... hovering above the deep end. Saturn was amazing. My wife looked and marveled at the view, but my sister-in-law was concerned about the precarious location. Further back into the yard we went, onto the grass. There, we set up and viewed Saturn for about 15 minute. Cassini's division was like a black marker 3/4ths out toward the edge of the rings. Across the souther face of the planet's disc was a large darker band. The inner edge of the rings cut a black line across the face of the planet. Moons were sprinkled here and there. While I enjoyed Saturn, and the beauty of her rings and the clarity of the view, I knew, with no doubt, Jupiter was king.

The scope was airborne again, hovering over the swimming pool as I heauled it back to the Jupiter side of my backyard. Again, there were moments of clarity that I have not seen in over a year. Supreme detail. I am not sure of this either, but unless I am mistaken, on the upper (southern) equatorail belt, just appearing from the trailing edge, was the Great Red Spot (well, maybe it should now be called the Great Slightly Darker Spot). All the detail was there in the best moments. White ovals, festoons, double shadows transit, anywhere from 6 to maybe a dozen belts (or, maybe 8, depending on what is considered a belt and what is not), the GRS, two pair of moons flanking the giant planet, two of the moons almost touching while moving.

It was a great night. When conditions are just right, deep sky observing can't hold a candle to the king and queen of our solar neighborhood. It is rare that so many wonderful sights can be enjoyed in one evening. I was very lucky.

Saturday, August 9, 1997

Chillin at the Peak

What a Saturday. I had been planning to go to Chews Ridge with Hales and Shade, but my son had demonstrated his persistence admirably in pestering me to take he and his sister boogy-boarding at one of the beaches south of Santa Cruz. I had bought a wet-suit and board the day before, again, at my son's insistence, so there was no getting out of it on Saturday. I'll make this part of the report short. I had fun, my kids had fun, the water is bearable when clothed in a rubber suit. The rip-tides were quite strong, and I think I was drained from the exertion.

After arriving home, I packed up both kids and my equipment in the Suburban and headed over to Dean's. In went all his equipment. There was no spare room in the truck when we pulled out at 6:30pm.

Arriving at the Peak, we found Alan Nemls, Richard Navarrete, Ken Head and Rich Neuschaefer. There were also a couple other unknown observers. All were over by the ranger's house, nobody was at Coulter or the SW lot.

The weather was perfect. When we left San Jose, the wind was strong and dense clouds hung ominously over the coastal range. But, here, at Fremont Peak, we were in an oasis of calm and clear.

The moon hung high above the transmission towers as darkness rose in the east. Soon, our eyepieces were all brightly illuminated and lunar detail was quite good, although there was some atmospheric distortion due to not very steady seeing. Still, Luna was putting on a good show.

There was a public program at the observatory, and a good number of astro-tourists. Rich was handing out TAC information sheets, and Ken was gathering signatures on the "change-the-name" petition, as the visitors viewed through their scopes.

Meanwhile, I was enjoying bright views of M22, M13, B86 (well, a "bright view" is a true misnomer on that object), M57, M27, Alberio, the Veil Nebula, M28, and assorted other big-n-brights.

Over the towns surrounding the Peak, heavy fog and clouds settled in. It was one of the darkest nights in recent memory. Faces lost all detail, and only by someone's voice could you recognize them. However, all was not well at the Peak.

Dew soon fogged my eyepieces and Telrad. And, a slight breeze began.

I continued to observe, fighting the dew. How could I forgo such a dark night. The moon was going to drop soon, and my "real" observing could start.

Mother nature is certainly in control at the Peak. For a mid-August weekend, it was rather chilly. I had on my thermals, jeans, sweat pant, t-shirt, sweater and heavy jacket. I even had to put on my winter hat when my ears became chilled. The cold was becoming more noticeable, as the breeze was becoming more pronounced.

Moon set brought out the wind. The breeze had changed into a strong wind blowing from the south. It was cold, and dobs were useless. We spent some time observing through a 5" AstroPhysics and 5" Takahashi refractor. We saw two limb-events on Jupiter, probably the same moon crossing onto the face of the planet, and later emerging. It is amazing to watch. There was also an easily seen shadow transit, GRS and several white ovals to be seen.

But the wind kept up. The dew was gone, but the wind was really a worse problem.

One of the unknown observers, looking at the dark clouds now starting to hide the Great Square of Pegasus, worried aloud about rain. He was set up to sleep on a chaise lounge. Dean and I had cots and sleeping bags. My kids had the truck. I thought, there was no way it would rain.

We had anticipate possible observing problems for the evening, so a few members of our group brought up bottles of wine. We sat at the bench behind the restrooms, which provided a wind block. We kept listening to the wind howl, we'd sip some wine, and talk about telescopes, mounts, eyepieces, observing trips, storms of the past, and other subjects.

The hour grew late, and no more observing would take place. Members of our group who were not camping over left for home. The wind was still strong, and the clouds thick overhead. There were no city lights.

I crawled into my sleeping bag, tired from fighting the ocean in the morning, the wind and cold at night, thinking about rain.

Just then, the zipper on my bag opened all the way up to the bottom. My bag was shot. I put on my winter boots and more warm clothes, and tried to sleep while listening for rain.

Such trips to the Peak make the exceptional nights all the more special.

Saturday, June 28, 1997

Fremont Peak 6/28 ( newbies rule! ;-)

Saturday the 28th of June began mostly cloudy, as viewed from my window in Los Gatos. I had plans to clean the mirror of the 14.5" Dob and slowly pack for Fremont Peak, while watching the sky for improvement. The 14.5 had been washed only a month or so prior, but I had a surprising discovery Tuesday night at our near-town star party at Montebello Open Space Preserve... there was a very well defined pair of raccoon footprints near the edge of the mirror. I had obviously had a curious visitor my last time a Fremont Peak, when it was breezy and I did not use the shroud to shield stray light. The footprints came of just fine, and I decided to lave the 14.5 closed up pending the dark sky weekend 80-90 of us will spend at our star party in the Sierras over 4th of July weekend. So, I took my tie-dyed 10" f/5.6 Dob out for a relaxing evening.

I had posted to TAC's mailing list that I would be happy to help anyone who wanted to tackle the month's Messiers and Hershels (from the 400 list), and knew a few people were interested. So, I would save my intensive observing for the Sierras and just let some "newbies" (a term I wish at times could be applied to me, since I would get to relive all that initial astro-observing excitement!) get some experience at star hopping and training looking at some dinner objects than the usual bright M's.

About 2 p.m. my 9 year old daughter and I pulled out of the driveway, stopping at a grocery store for our picnic dinner. What a feast she chose. Fresh fruit salad, pitted Greek Calamata olives, Havarti and Meunster cheeses, German potato salad, fresh sourdough baguette, extra dry Columbus salami and beer (for me). The kid has good taste already. On the road, we experienced the usual rubber-necking slowdown on the freeway when someone was changing a flat tire. I will never understand the fascination.

The as we approached Morgan Hill, the clouds were sufficiently sparse to encourage me that we might have a good night, but up ahead, past Gilroy where I could now see Fremont Peak in the distance, clouds hung over the mountain like a unwanted visitor that only comes when you have other plans.

Up San Juan Canyon Road, my daughter was enjoying seeing the grazing sheep, horses, cows, longhorn cattle, and goats. It is a beautiful leisurely drive through Eden.

When I pulled into the observing area, there were already half a dozen or more members of our observing group set up. The best spots were gone. I find myself wondering if Jim Bartolini every really goes home. But, I pull out the 10", set up and begin looking at the sky. No clouds. Amazing.

The afternoon wore on, and some of us walked over to the observatory. Kevin and Deni Medlock were set up with a Takahashi CN212 Cassegrain-Newtonian, ready for a night of CCD. A 20" Obsession, 8" Meade SCT, Celestron CG11 and Paul Barton's old C11 were set up by the observatory. Along Coulter Row, John Kuklewicz and Crazy Ed were relaxing, telescopes, set up, along with another observer who I didn't recognize.

Around 5 p.m. a group of us gathered in the southwest parking lot to discuss the future of Fremont Peak for astronomy, what the long term status of the observatory was, and what possibilities were realistic for developing the side of the park with the ranger's quarters. The Medlocks, who are intimately familiar with the California Parks system, had much interesting information, and ideas.

My daughter needed to fuel up, so we had our gourmet dinner, watching Venus brighten in the western sky. We watched fog form to the west, south and east of the Peak, with some spilling over the top. Dew formed on the roofs of our vehicles and on chairs. Would this be a lost night?

As darkness began, the breeze stopped and so did the fog. A layer settled into the valley south of the Peak, and some wisps occasionally fingered around the Peak to the west, but we stayed dry.

Some park visitors wandered through the group's observing site. Imagine the curiosity these first timers must have felt, seeing perhaps 15 telescopes of all shapes and sizes set up. We had an 18" Obsession, 16" home built Dob, 12" LX-200, 10" LX-200, 13.1" Coulter Dob, 15" Obsession, 5" Takahashi refractor, 10" f/6 Dob, 10" f/5.6 Dob, 8" reflector in an aluminum tube on old plumber pipe mount, 8" Coulter Dob, 12.5 "Mellow Yellow" Dob (two part aluminum tube design... a "must see"), Meade ETX, 8" Celestron Ultima 2000, 6" Intes Maksutov, and others I am sorry I do not remember. It was a great turnout. The visitors had views of the bright globulars, Mars, Venus, the Ring Nebula, Alberio and other favorites as the sky darkened more. I especially enjoyed showing objects to the visitors, as they were all very interested young adults from the neighboring town of San Juan Buatista.

Two observers with our group wanted to work the July Hershel, which we had printed out off TAC's web-page. We began with the now famous Cat-Eye Nebula in Draco. This is a very green planetary. The ETX owner joined me in the hunt (I think he considers himself a newbie), as did the owner of the 10" f/6 (who, I believe has thus far spent his time on Messiers). We used the Herald-Bobroff Atlas as our guide, along with a Tirion 2000. I soon realized the newbie had a very good feel for star hopping, and turned the task of chart reading and star hopping over to him. I was just along for the ride, and to be occasional help. The night flew by, working globulars in Ophiuchus. The area is dense in globular clusters (more globulars in that constellation than any other). Some were easy to detect, others were quite faint. One object was a mag 14 planetary nebula that the newbie passed saw, but didn't think was the planetary (I helped confirm that one). The image of the night though was the single field view of ngcs 6440 and 6445. One is a small globular cluster with a very nicely condensed core, diffusing out evenly. The other is a planetary nebula close to the same angular size as the globular. The part that I found interesting was, the planetary was a ring... bright at the edges and dim in the center, while the globular was just the opposite (bright core, dim edges). It was like a photo with its negative in view.

The planetary itself was not really circular, more elongated (perhaps bipolar). Along the long axes, the planetary appeared to dim, looking almost like there was a break in the gas ring. We viewed it under several different magnifications.

In the east, the moon began graying out the sky, subtler at first, then with increasing insistence. Before it got to bright, I popped the 10" on B86 in Sagittarius, always one of my favorite view. My newbie friend enjoyed the view too. Then, up to Jupiter. A large festoon hung off one of the central bands. The view was crisp with two moons on each side in my 19mm Panoptic. Jumping to a 7mm, the image deteriorated significantly.

The moon now sat above the trees to the east, and the party was coming to an end. All had fun. Some worked seriously on observing programs, others who are occasional participants cruised the bright stuff and enjoyed viewing through the wide range of equipment available. For me, the night was an educational one. I had fully expected to have to "walk" a few nebies through use of a star chart, help them star hop, and show them how to confirm a find. Much to my surprise, I had little to do. The newbies showed me that with a decent sky, well collimated scope, Telrad type finder and a good star chart, they could accomplish a lot in one evening.

I wondered... were they really newbies, or not?

The troops pulled out between 2:30 and 3 a.m., and soon Rich Neuschaefer, Bill Arnett and I sat talking about those things that began the evening... Fremont Peak and the State. The sky was still a feast for the eye. The conversation changed to astronomy clubs, boards of directors, how the internet may be changing the way astronomy organizations interact with members. It was an interesting discussion that continues to be food for thought.

The breeze picked up a bit again, and chilled us. We decided that the evening was over and to tear down our scopes. Suddenly, Bill called out that we should come over. In the 12", there sat a Saturn, our first view of the season. The Cassini Division shown clearly, now that the angle of the rings is angle increasing. One dark band was obvious on the planet. It was a very nice view, and a great way to end the night.

I got into my truck, where my daughter was sleeping, and soon I was emulating her.