Reports for March, 2001
April First
Clusters and Galaxies in the Lunar Mist
Moon or No Moon
Faint Fuzzies on the Moon
Making the Most Out of What You Got
One Tough Split
Scanner Online
"Dances With Clouds"
Message Received
Pup's Night to Dance
I like the Night Life, I Like to Boggle!
Galaxies in the Mist
NGC3079-Yes, NGC3073-Who Knows?
On the Limits of Imaginosity
East of Regulus
East of Denebola
Long Hours, Hard Work, Decent Pay
Finding Lost Sheep
Soon the Moon, That's OK by Me
Barefoot'n with the Pup
Argo, the Pup and the aScent of Moonbeams
Puttering Around the Backyard Sky
More Puttering
April Last
Reports for May, 2001

April Fools

DAAFY:

Several weeks ago I ordered a new telescope accessory (a "dynamic atmospheric abstraction filter arraY - DAAFY for short). DAAFY instantaneously measures the amount of "visual noise" caused by the atmosphere and cancels it out so it doesn't end up in the eyepiece. Effectively, it gives a view though Argo compararble to that seen from orbit around the Earth - kind of like a 150mm version of the HST.

Once DAAFY is hooked up, it really doesn't matter if there's light pollution in the area. It doesn't matter if there is wind blowing the sky around. It doesn't even matter if someone is running a blast furnace nearby or if heat is rising off the parking lot a half-block down the street. In testing this device, however, I found that it wasn't quite able to see through clouds. (Apparently, it has a threshold signal to noise ratio limit and clouds block so much signal that noise can't be properly discriminated.)

Took me a while to hook the whole thing up. Part of it mounts on the scope (the sensor). Part of it on the ground (the processor unit) and another part goes into the focuser - kind of like a field flattener / correction lens. (At first I didn't understand why I had to mount the sensor on the scope, but then I realized that the more the device saw the sky exactly the way Argo did, the better it would work.) Of course this all points up the fact that I abhor the use of directions - which, of course, adds to the complexity of the whole procedure. However, being reasonably well-versed in things electronic, and the basic theory of operation of the equipment and knowing a little about user interface software (damned thing uses command line arguments like DOS!) I was able to get everything in place and setup - at least in "calibration mode".

Unfortunately, just as I was about to flip the switch and really get rolling, clouds piled up and squelched the whole thing. Ultimately the manufacturer (or more likely a competitor) will improve the sensitivity of DAAFY (or a DAAFY clone) to the point where even clouds won't stand in the way of a good night's observation. Its even possible that some future version will support daytime observation of deepsky objects. (Sunlight could be treated as an extremely bright form of "light pollution".) But the current version is less than "cloud-tolerant" so I had to knock off for the evening.

Even though I was unable to bring DAAFY online before the clouds rolled in, I did get a chance to continue my explorations of the northern terminator of the Moon. So rather than bore you with what it might have been like to be out observing under conditions where you can see stars down to magnitude 8.5 (unaided), or cut your cornea on the crystal clear edges of the Saturnian ring system, I'll just tell you what the Moon showed me earlier in the evening.

The Moon

Luna is now heading into the second quarter. A quick peek through the finderscope showed that the scalloped crescent so obvious during the first week after the new moon is gone. There is now a slight - but perceptible - outward curve to the terminator. Much detail seen early on (Craters Lick and Yerkes west of Mare Crisium for instance) is now bleached white. Some, such as the Alpine Valley and Crater-ruin Cassini, can still be appreciated - albeit without earlier dramatics. Finally a whole new region further east is now well-aspected - Walled Plain Archimedes, the small but intriguing Spitzbergen Mountains, and the Crater Aristillus. Still steeped in shadow, but exposed at its highest points of attainment is Plato. At this point the philospher staggers blindly into the light, whilst remaining mostly steeped in the darkness of his cave.

I began my "eye in the sky" adventure peering down at Eratothenes, at the southern tip of the Apennines. Despite instabilities in the atmosphere, much was seen of high contrast detail compacted into this medium-sized crater. In particular a smaller central crater-like rise and along with broken walls and clefts. I then followed the sweep of the Apennines north and west. The Apennines break upward rather precipitately in the direction of the maria Imbrium. Behind this rise, could be seen many miles of re-inforcing highlands - as though the region formed as a break against a massive outflow from some primeval ocean.

This break against the waters does not completely stand however, for just west of the crater Autolycus, the Apennines end and the "seas" of Mare Imbrium break through to join Mare Serenititus to the west. The far side of this breech is marked by a new range of mountains - equally shear - facing Mare Imbrium to the east. These are the Caucasus Mountains, beginning somewhat west of the maria-overwhelmed Crater Aristillus.

Despite the breech to the south, the Caucasus, continue to mount a bulwark almost due north. Its efforts are later subsumed by the Lunar Alps which begin the crescentlike sweep to the northeast past the semi-submerged crater Cassini. At the end of this series of ranges - beginning with the Apennines, is Plato. The northern end of a series of three craters which echo the sweep of the mountains to the east - Eratothenes, young and filled with much detail for its small size. Archimedes, larger with a perfect walled defense against the surrounding maria. And Plato, be-shadowed but displaying huge potential for stark contrast as it wakens into the sunshine of it's new day.

Somewhere in the world the sky is dark, clear and steady. Perhaps in Japan, or Taiwan an astronomer takes up the vigil as wise and silent Plato awakens to dawn and warms to the sweet embrace of the Sun.

Clusters and Galaxies in the Lunar Mist

Plato now stands fully revealed. This completes the great arc that leads from Eratothenes and the Apennines to the south, past smooth plained Archimedes, to the Lunar Caucasus and Alps and across the Alpine Valley. From my perch looking north I see a craggy scorpion slashed across the spine by the Alpine Valley. One claw, (the western) points past Plato towards the distant crater Fontenelle. The other, the eastern, toward Plato itself. Between the scorpions claws lies a hard-scrabble landscape of low peaks. Behind its straightened-stinger is the solitary and precipitate Mount Piton. Further north, and to the east, stands another, even more vertiginous peak, Mount Pico. Following upon the line from Piton to Pico, is a small scattering of low, isolated peaks - the Teneriffes.

We have seen this arc of mountains fail in preventing Mare Imbrium from joining Mare Serenitatus to the west. We know this as the maria flow through the wide gap west of Autolycus and Aristillus. Not so, near Plato. For Plato is rimmed round about not only by it's own high ramparts, but by an extensive system of peaks and highlands. This rough-hewn system is so extensive that there is, in fact, no smooth joining between Imbrium and Mare Frigoris to the north and east.

Last evening Plato was steeped in darkness. Only its central peak showing for character. Now, a mere day later, Plato is well into the sun of its morning. No detail can be seen in its basin - other than weak greyscale changes in coloration. There is, perhaps, the suggestion of a minor peak just within the eastern shadows - but nothing definitive. By happenstance of last nights overcast, I missed Plato's birth into its new day. Vigilance, and a clear sky - perhaps even later this month, may rectify this.

The Moon was not receptive to high magnification this evening. (Best views were had at 140 and 240X.) Jupiter revealed all he was willing at these magnifications as well.) Most sapient was the triangle formation of Galileans following it's master like hunting dogs in obeisance, across the sky. But where was the fourth hound? Ah yes, I see it's shadow in transit - perhaps one third progressed across the SEB. But what of the bright moon itself? Conditions were too poor to reveal this. The path of it's shadow carried directly across the thin, low contrast mid zone of the SEB. Frequent glimpses of the NTB were also seen. Occasionally I caught both the NNTB and the STB. Certainly both polar regions displayed well-defined edges. These might be interpreted by some as the NNTB and the SSTB. Two major irregularities broke the EZ from the NEB. One progressed perhaps two-thirds across the visible portion of the globe. The other opposite to, but slightly trailing behind the moon's transiting shadow.

Saturn, lower in the sky than Jupiter, displayed a "fuzzy" Cassini and a distinguishable SEB. Like Jupiter, Saturn was a bit skiddish, eratically leaping about in the field of view as great displacement waves of air jolted the image. Meanwhile like Jupiter, there was nothing especially distinct about the planets limb and ring system.

A quick check of Castor revealed a nice clean split at 120X and a difficult one at 70X. Iota Cassiopeia is now on par with Polaris above the horizon early in the evening. It's 12th magnitude field star took mildly averted vision to acquire. The tighter double of the trio separable at 120X. This reinforced the notion of "fair" stability conditions for the evening. Had there been no moon, I am sure stars to magnitude 5.5 would have been seen overhead.

So with the Moon high on the central meridian, I plumbed the floodlit sky in search of two clusters and as many galaxies. Of the clusters, I expected to find them as clusters. Of the the galaxies (both of the 10th magnitude) my hope was merely to find them.

M48 (in Hydra) appeared a sparse, yet vaguely suggestive group of 3 or 4 dozen 8 - 10th magnitude stars. The cluster took up about 3/4 of the 1 degree 50X field of view. In the center, a group of more than a half-dozen 8th magnitude stars arrayed themselves in a tight "Y" formation. (The cup of the "Y" to the west southwest.) Two large arcs of dimmer stars gave a sense of round bowls flanking the Y-shaped group at the center. Two trains of 10th magnitude stars more or less led the group across the sky to the west, while a pair of brighter 8th magnitude stars (oriented roughly north-south) trailed to the east. I spent considerable time peering past the distracting moonglow to allow the cluster's shape time to properly coelesce. After a while it became obvious to me. Here was a naked goddess. The Y group forming her cleavage. The parallel lines to the west, her waist, and the two brighter stars to the east, her glowing eyes. I'm sure old Sigmund would have something to say about this particular anthropormorpism...

M67, in Cancer and not more than 15 degrees from the Moon, was a difficult find, but when found was easily recognizable as a cluster. This despite the huge amount of light thrown into Argo by the nearby Moon. Over the last few months I've come to appreciate that class of open clusters which are small, rich in stars, and highly condensed. M67 meets this set of characteristics better than M48. One way in which M67 diverges from this idealized type is that it appears an amalgram of two forms. One, an eastern group of stars, sprawls a bit toward the north and the south. This group gives the impression of a "bird of prey" touching down upon the western half. The western half looks like an overturned bowl. In total perhaps three dozen stars were visibe. The bulk, in terms of number, resident in the western "bowl", while the remaining, brighter group of stars, formed the bird's body and wings. A single, bright 7th magnitude star dominates just south of the center of this 20 arc-minute cluster.

Of the two galaxies, only NGC2683 could be definitively located this evening. 2683 has a cumulative magnitude of 9.7 distributed over a region of 3X9 arc-minutes. It's average surface brightness is therefore 13.0. 2683 is located about 5 degrees west of Alpha Lynx, 25 arc-minutes slightly north but mostly east of a 6th magnitude field star. There were no dim stars near the galaxy to confuse the eye. This fact made detection much easier. Through averted vision I could just see an 8 arc-minute long cigar-shaped blur. There was no detectable central brightening. Just a wispy ill-defined shape oriented north-northeast by south-southwest. Certainly this near edge on spiral deserves another look once the moon is on the wane.

NGC2681, located about five degrees west of Theta Ursa Majoris, was not a definitive find this evening. In sweeping the area at 50X, I noticed a small group of three dim stars that seemed to be embroiled in nebulosity. Changing over to 120X, it looked like the brightest, more central "star" was diffuse - possibly a galactic core. The basic orientation of this group was north-south. Whatever it is I found, was seen against a murky haze attending the Lunar domination of the night sky. There was no escaping it this night, but there will be others...

Moon or No Moon

I love the Moon! I wish it would just hang up there every night and illumine my every eve. Why with a Moon up there, who needs the Sun? The stars? Galaxies? Aperture?

I do.

But, if you can't beat something - get close enough to reach. I been getting closer - dutifully exploring the southern lunar landscape, doing my best to write interesting, descriptive prose. All the while I'm thinking - get this dead world out of the way so I can explore a living universe. It's time the Earth had it's own ring!

We'll not really. I've actually found myself enjoying "eye in the sky" views of the lunar landscape. Yes, the thing can really grow on you! But still, I'd rather it only hang out a few days - week at most, instead of dominating the sky for TWO WHOLE WEEKS.

I suppose I could be like Mr. Astro and Otto. Set the alarm. Prep Mr. Coffee and get up at three in the morning - after Moonset. But no, I just have to follow the Great Wheel of the Heavens as it slowly spins through the seasons. - Maybe next year.

So this evening I doted once more on the Moon and continued to follow the great arc encompassing Mare Imbrium. Tomorrow, I fully expect the wheel to complete and Imbrium will "lie" fully revealed. But tonight, something new was in the offing. Imbrium displayed it's eastern bay - Sirus Iridum. And what a beautiful bay it is! Sheer cliffs rising precipitately almost directly on the line of sight. Two huge prominatories standing guard north and south (Laplace and Heraclides). Waves of dark frozen lava, eternally bending toward the stolid cliffs. Solitary island peaks jutting above the maria, casting long triangular shadows toward the half-open eye of Iridum. Plato, rimmed round about with protective highlands. Small but intensely contrasty craters (Leverrier and Helicon) capturing Iridum's attention to the west. More small distant craters, half-steeped in shadows, to the south.

Yes, all very dramatic - but completely lacking in plot, For you see, the Moon is lifeless and still. Aeons ago, it's molten core solidified, ossified, died up and the great engine of seleno-tectonics sputtered and stalled...

Jupiter however, is another story. Massive, dynamic, influential. It's own moon's active - possibly even possessed of organic molecules. Truly fluid seas on Europa. Gravitational stresses and strains churning Io. Ganymede - possessing a gaseous envelop.

Tonight, the seeing was very good. And neither the Galileans nor Jupiter displeased. Ganymede in transit. Its tight black shadow making slow progress midway across the SPR. Transitions to both polar regions showing excellent delineation. NTB obvious, and part of the STB visible. Three large irregularities along the southern edge of the NEB. The EB visibly bisecting much of the EZ. The SEB darker and more contrasty than I ever remember seeing it - this dispite the fact that the lighter central zone was still perceptible. I have to admit, I rushed my observations of the Moon as soon as I noticed how stable the sky was. And as soon as it got dark enough to acquire Jupiter in the early evening sky.

Having completed a drawing of Jupiter, I moved on to Saturn. Cassini present - but again not the Great Circular Highway racing around the planet. Ring A seemed unusually small this evening. In fact I've been noticing this over the last few weeks. The Crepe Ring impossible. Only a slight dimming of interior Ring B toward the planet. The SEB blending into the SPR. But the color gradient of the SPR was very nice. Mottled blue-gray from the SEB to the pole. - Possibly the nicest feature of the evening. Saturn is now definitely past prime time. Until the next cycle, all that may be possible is to recharge our interests and reflect on the wonders of last autumn and early winter. Glorious!

Made a quick check of Iota. 12th mag field star captured with slight aversion at 120X - but Iota is a long way from Luna. Nice clean split - but something was awry with the optics... So I recollimmated - but still not right. Later in the evening, just before turning up Galaxy NGC2681, I collimated again - this time balancing the intra and extra focal images more astutely. Much better - but it won't be perfect until I "touch" the primary.

After the first collimation, I checked Zeta Orionis. Decent split - stability was good. Not the best, but very good. Later I attempted to catch the magnitude 10.3 companion of Iota Ursa Majoris. Primary at magnitude 3.1 + separation of 10.8 arc-seconds + the moon within 30 degrees = no go. I'm not surprised. With the moon this bright it can be challenging to catch Polaris' 8th magnitude companion at almost 20 arc-seconds.

Spent some time contemplating the Trapezium in M42. Orion too low, and the sky just not dark enough to catch more than occasional glimpses of Theta E. Perhaps later this week - if I can get out to the Ridge...

Also made a quick check of nebulosity near Zeta. The more difficult Flame Nebula could be detected - but only vaguely.

Before moving on to the main galaxies of the evening, I took a quick look at M109. 109 could only be detected en passant. While 108 was direct at 120X. Neither was particularly easy. However, it makes a lot of sense to cultivate the eye by looking for tough stuff you already know how to find before going after tough stuff you haven't even found yet. Sort of acclimitizes the eye.

Now the Moon was high. very high. (If only there was a little string suspended from it that you could use to turn it on and off.) And the two galaxies I was after were within 35 degrees of it. First the easier of the two: NGC2841. At magnitude 9.3 and size 8X4 arc-minutes, 2841 has an average surface brightness of 12.7 while it's core could be expected to be somewhere around magnitude 10.1. This would be tough, but not impossible. One of the things this particular galaxy has in its favor (at least from my very limited perspective) is it's location - within the same 50X field as a 6th magnitude field star about 2 degrees southwest of Theta Ursa Majoris. Knowing where to find something - confidently - is essential even under the best of circumstances...

As it turned out, I caught the galaxy instantly at 50X, about 25 arc-minutes south-southeast of my guide star (37 Lynx). Draping a towel over my head reduced the amount of stray light entering my pupils. This allowed me to fully dark adapt. Subsequently, I could directly acquire the dim, yet starlike central core of the galaxy. Under even slight aversion, perhaps 3 arc-minutes of gradually diminishing elongation could be made out to each side. These lay along the northwest to southeast axis. Fortunately, there were no field stars directly in the galaxy's line of sight. However one 10th and one 11th magnitude star formed a right triangle with the galactic core - these were, on average, about six arc-minutes distant.

Having found NGC2841 was a healthy boost to my confidence. However, the next galaxy - NGC2681, is one magnitude dimmer but - owing to it's smaller size - has an average surface brightness only 2/10ths less than 2841. To find 2681, I first located a second sixth magnitude field star just east and north of 37. Then, slewing the finder due west by three degrees, I caught the line to a (nameless in my charts) 5th magnitude star. Continuing this line by the same distance, I switched over to the main scope and saw nothing...

So I swept the scope around for awhile until I was hopelessly lost then repeated the whole procedure. This time I payed careful attention to each of the half-dozen or so stars in the 50X field of view. One looked a might diffuse. So I donned my impromptu headdress, grabbed the 15mm ultrascopic and contemplated its mysteries. Before long I could just make out about one arc-minute of nebulous extension oriented north-south. This was all I could make out of this 10th magnitude galaxy under the existing conditions. But it was enough for me to join Archimedes in joyfully shouting "Eureka!"

One thing that simplified my task was the fact that, like NGC2841, 2681 shared space with a couple of dim, but perceptible stars. The pair were roughly of the 10th magnitude and separated from each other by about 15 arc-minutes. They, in turn formed an isoceles triangle with the galaxy's core. Having the stars there made it alot easier to switch to 120X and refocus (the 35mm is not parfocal with the others) without losing the galaxy.

With this tough catch behind me, I felt that enough had been accomplished for one evening. Trundled Argo into storage and set about writing up my experiences. The Moon is my friend. I like the Moon. I wish it would just hang up there day after day - but not night after night!

Faint Fuzzies on the Moon

There's something about being human that drives us to push the envelop. There's also something about being human that says "Enough is enough!" Tonight I gave up on deepsky. The combination of a Moon 2/3rd's full, and a sky full of high thin clouds crossed my personal line. Even so, I decided there was something to be said for challenging the eye - even if that challenge was a little closer to home than 11th magnitude galaxies - 20 MLY's distant.

Seems that one of the "buzz" challenges among telescopists is the ability to detect features within the otherwise smooth, low contrast maria-like, ringed plain of Plato. So tonight, I grabbed the satchel of filters, and the 10mm Ultrascopic (180X), dialed in the clock drive, and contemplated Platonic Philosophy.

Ideally, Plato's crater should be a model of formal prefection. In shape, perfectly round. In color, white. In location, at either of the poles or the very center of the lunar disk. In surface, perfectly flat.

None of this is true. Plato's walled plain is somewhat elongated. (Seemingly along an east west axis.) While lacking color per se Plato's namesake is not "white" - actually bearing a variety of grey shadings. Nor is Plato's lunar personification found in the center of the lunar disk. (Actually quite removed toward the selenographic north and east.) Finally, contrary to first appearances, Plato's saucer like floor is not flat - for even without the Sun at low elevations a hint of a central rise is seen.

Tonight, however, I was not looking for the central rise. In truth that rise was quite detectable - and therefore offered little challenge. What did challenge were reports of several very small craterlits on the smooth central plain.

So with clock drive (and much patience) engaged. I sat on the collapsible observing stool and contemplated Platonic Philosophy - in the form of various imperfections in the world of perceptible phenomenona (not in the idealized world of perfect forms).

As Immanual Kant would say, "Concepts without percepts are barren, and percepts without concepts are blind." (Or is it the other way around - I'll have to ask Professor Otto.)

I proposed that there be flaws in Plato's floorplan (concept). I knew that with quiet persistence, said flaws would reveal themselves to my patient eye (percept). And lo, it was so. When mind and eye are one, all things are possible.

In fact, besides the more obvious central peak, five very faint, somewhat glinting, almost "dim galactic core-like", patches of light revealed themselves. This, almost in the way Trapezium E & F members are seen on an almost, but less than perfect night. The five arrayed themselves in the following fashion: Three to the selenographic south, and two to the north. General distribution was like (dare I say it) an imperfectly layed out pentagram. At different times I also caught glimpses of similar features closer to the western wall. But, in reality, the most striking feature associated with Plato this evening was the beautifully etched "half-ring" of white light that lay due east of, and affixed to the plain's eastern wall.

Finally, I had one other interesting insight. Plato has an alter ego - Copernicus! Surely, the contemplatives of what might be, meet their match in the students of what is.

Making the Most Out of What You Got

Last night's view of Plato was just "nebulous" enough to require confirmation. So, much earlier this evening and again just before packing things away, I turned Argo on the Unavoidable Bright Light in the Sky. Sure enough, there in the center of Plato's walled plain was an easily acquired "ray-source like luminosity".

Now, what I mean by "ray-source like" is simply this: During the gibbous phase of the lunar cycle, an inordinate amount of reflected light from the Sun floods the Earth. At such times, the most distinctive lunar features are the various rays emanating from certain bright - almost chalky-white craters. In the case of Plato, three (and possibly as many as seven) such craters were visible this evening.

Earlier in the evening (before true dark), there was no evidence of such craterlets within Plato. It took darker - and possibly stabiler - skies to detect them. Later in the evening I had no difficult acquiring the brightest crater (found near Plato central). Slightly averted vision consistently revealed two others (except when strong gusts caused general blurring of the lunarscape). One due east in the direction of Sinus Iridum and the other toward the south-southwest (toward Cassini). This later crater positions fairly close to the proximate wall. While the cratelet to the east is found about halfway from Plato central.

Other craterlets were also seen - but these "scintillated" in and out of sight and could no wise be held by the eye. Interestingly, I found that the main craterlet could also be acquired by my weaker left eye. The other two were somewhat more problematic...

NOTE: Once again, the use of the medium blue and yellow filters gave the best results in viewing the moon this evening and in detecting Plato's craterlets.

Jupiter gave some very nice - but (unfortunately indescribable) views of detail within the SEB this evening. This seems to be occuring during a cycle when the SEB is every bit as contrasty as the NEB. (Something I have been noticing over the last week or so.) The zonal, lower contrast "split" between the two frontiers of the SEB seems to be darkening. In fact there was a pervasive sense of "kneadyness" about the SEB to the terrestrial west.

In addition to this kneadyness, the southerly trailing section of the SEB seemed thicker than usual. Meanwhile, the NEB seemed to be sporting a dark spot opposite this section of the SEB and very close to the EZ. Now all four Galilean's were well away from the planets limb at this time - so I was not seeing a shadow transit - but the depth of contrast was similar - if not as distinct.

At times it was just possible to make out the wisply EB between the two main belts. Consistently, I am seeing the "linear mottling" that is a precursor to the "Dove's Footprints" phenomenon that only appears under the best seeing conditions (transparency + stability).

The NTB was quite obvious this evening - and unusually proximate to the NEB. North of this, the NPR showed good contrast at its frontier. This suggests that the NNTB may be waxing. I draw this conclusion based on the fact that this same degree of darkening was not apparent in the SSTB.

NOTE: Best views of Jupiter this evening were had using the 240X 15mm / shorty barlow configuration with the medium yellow filter threaded into the eyepiece barrel.

Despite the reasonable views of Jupiter, and as observed many times over the last month or so, Saturn is not in its prime. It's low position in the sky, plus smaller apparent size, has mushed-up ring definition to the point where Cassini never seems to show its earlier splendour. However, limb delineation on the terrestrial trailing edge of the planet was quite broad and attractive. Saturn's SEB lacked definition this evening. This same condition applied to the occasionally fine blue-gray mottling of the SPR (which of late, has been the most enjoyable Saturn feature).

As a seeing check, I viewed Iota Cassiopeia, then Zeta Orionis. Iota was a clean split. Zeta merely elongated. I collimated using Rigel. (The scope was off by perhaps 8 arc-minutes.) On completion, I caught what appeared to be a 7th magnitude secondary, perhaps 15 arc seconds to Rigel's south-southwest. It was interesting to see Rigel's blue-white disk swell with gusts of wind and envelop the dimmer blue secondary.

NOTE: One reference source sites Rigel as magnitude .1, its secondary 8.0 and pair separation as 9 arc-seconds. Colors white and orange. Based on these figures the Double Star Resolution Calculator suggests that such a split is only possible on excellent seeing nights. I personally thought the secondary was brighter (by 1 magnitude) and more distant (15 arc-seconds) this type split is possible on a fair seeing night, and Rigel ends up hiding its companion when the seeing drops to 3/10.

I settled for awhile, taking in M42. But variable clouds started moving in and I had to abandon the eyepiece impression I hoped to drwa up. It was about this time that I noticed that the clouds seemed to be avoiding the Moon - high to the southeast. Even turning Argo on the Moon couldn't lure the clouds to cover it. I caught the central craterlet of Plato almost immediately. The other two only required a few more seconds to catch as well. Later I made out the other four. But I just couldn't pin these down.

The edge of the moon is an excellent test for seeing. There was only a marginal amount of "thermal distortion" of the rim present. More was seen during the late afternoon / early evening. I can only imagine how the Moon and Jupiter would have appeared in Argo this evening if the sky was steady enough to "lock down" the edge of the moon. It's becoming clear to me that, although the Santa Cruz Mountains consistently get "fair to good" seeing, it rarely becomes exceptional. The trick I have to learn as an observer is how to get the most out of whatever conditions I am viewing under. Poor stability, a lack of transparency, the evening presence of the Moon are all factors that can detract from the viewing experience. Like most things in life it takes a certain amount of creativity to turn a minus into a plus. I believe the key to this is "to put a vertical line through it."

One Tough Split

Had Argo setup for a game of "catch what you can" with patchy cummulus clouds all evening. Spent the bulk of the time tweaking the primary and secondary to achieve the best possible balance between intra- and extra-focal images (referencing Capella for star-test purposes). Verified that by tweaking the primary I could get a nice fat, bright, circular, outer ring, and while tweaking the secondary I could almost - but not quite - render all interior rings concentric on both sides of focus.

The outer ring seems to be controlled by the orientation of the baffle extending off the center of Argo's primary. The inner rings are under control of the secondary. The new wingnut adjustment mechanism on Argo's secondary gives me lots of low-stress opportunities to "play" with collimation. While playing this evening, I learned that I could create gorgeous extra-focal annularities - or gorgeous intra-focal annularities - but not both at the same time. Tweaking the primary does help to close the gap between the two. But my need to have star images collapse and expand as perfect circles (while traversing focus) introduces a third parameter that must also be met during collimation. So I put several hours into optimizing intra-, extra- and traversal- focus.

Frequent checks of Jupiter were made throughout the collimation process. After one particular set of adjustments, the split in the SEB was much more apparent. However, the adjustment made at that time had nothing to do with Capella star-testing. This occured using an entirely different approach. Using Argo's handy-dandy wing nuts, I tweaked for proper traversal of focus on Jupiter. What prompted this is my usual disatisfaction with image glow shift while passing through focus. Bear with me here... I find it painful to see the glow around an object "shift" either comatically or astigmatically when passing through focus. A comatic shift can best be described as any switch along a single axis of a planet or star when passing through focus. An astigmatic shift occurs when the glow shifts at right angles under the same conditions. While viewing Jupiter, I was unable to detect the split in the SEB with any precision. I also noticed a slight astigmatic shift during traversal. I figured an astigmatic shift occurs when the optics is out of collimation along two axes. So I adjusted two of the three wingnuts. The result was an improvement in the salience of low-contrast detail in the SEB. Interesting eh?

I then did a star test using Capella. In so doing, I noticed the bright, outermost a-focal ring failing to properly collapse into a perfect circle around the star and expand again during traversal. This type behavior is also quite painful to me. So, returning to bright Jupiter, I pulled the eyepiece out and looked down through the barlow lens. It was obvious that the "donut of light" was not circular. I surmised that the main mirror - which directs the primary baffle - did not look straight at the meniscus. So, allen keys in hand, I re-oriented the primary until it did. Fortunately it did not take much adjustment to accomplish this. Unfortunately, ham-fisted tightening of the lock-down screws threw it out of adjustment again. Relaxing the lock-downs, I tried again - this time more gingerly. The results were quite satisfactory. Argo could now traverse focus properly.

But, of course I still had to deal with the lack of concentricity of the intra/extra-focal rings. It took a lot of tampering with the wingnuts to bring everything into a semblance of balance. One step was to remove the barlow and install the 120X 15mm Ultrascopic. With the barlow in place, I could never get the rings to look right to my eye. The problem is probably not the barlow - but possibly the nechanics. (The barlow probably extends the eyepiece out slightly off-axis.)

By the time this whole process was complete, Jupiter had sunk so low that it displayed both high and low frequency image distortions. The planets edge now "boiled". The equatorial belts were a blur. But at its best (just after correcting for traversal astigmatism) I could clearly make out the split of the SEB, belt edge irregularities on the NEB and SEB, variations in belt contrast within the SEB and the NEB, the NTB, and a nice clean delineation between the NTZ (North Temperate Zone) and NPR. There were also occasions when a hint of the EB was possible. While peering within the EZ, I could make out the variations in contrast that presage "doves footprints".

A quick check of Castor showed a very clean separation between the 2nd and third magnitude components. From Castor, it was a star hop, skip and a jump to the dim, close finder pair that mark the position of the Intergalactic Wanderer (NGC2419). Tonight, unlike others, it was barely detectable with extreme aversion at 120X.

Again, with the slightly gibbous post-full moon, I spent some time putzing around in Ursa Majoris (between clouds). Zero luck turning up M108 or M109. Possibly some obscure "brightening" but the background sky was just too luminous. The second quarter moon is a bear on bears - pun absolutely intentional.

Turned Argo on Praesepe (M44). The constellation Cancer is incredibly obscure - especially at moon-tide. Strictly finderscope material. To locate M44 this evening, I bisected the line between Pollux and Regulus. Sweeping the finder view, even with the moon, it was easy to catch maybe a dozen 5 + magnitude members within the crab's shell. Switching to the main tube, perhaps five or six dozen 6 through 11 magnitude stars were possible. The brightest spread out along a north-south axis completely filling the 50X one degree field of view. In the center I noticed several triplicities of stars. Two of these were quite angular. Their opposing tips pointing outward east and west. Careful inspection of Praesepe revealed a gradient of ever dimmer and dimmer stars. In fact, mottling of the background sky suggests many stars beyond Argo's reach.

Once you find "the Bee Hive Cluster", the rest of the Crab is revealed in the finderscope. Four 4th and 5th magnitude stars en-square the cluster (which locates toward the eastern edge of the crab's shell). M67 (discussed in an earlier report) can be found by following the line between the two brightest stars (Gamma and Delta) due south until encountering a star of the fifth magnitude. Sweeping southeast toward a 4th magnitude star, M67 is seen in the finder.

But tonight, I took a different route. I dropped down from M44 to Delta then extended a line west to Theta. Following this line almost twice it's length west again, I centered the scope on Zeta.

At 6 arc-seconds Zeta A and B are an easy split even at 50X. The brighter (5.7 magnitude) component leads the secondary across the sky and is warm yellow in color. The secondary - only slightly dimmer at magnitude 6.0 - is "peach" colored. A pretty pair. There is a third member - Zeta C - separated by .9 arc-seconds from A. At 50X, the primary didn't even look vaguely elongated, so I dropped in a succession of eyepieces until I ended up with the 10mm Ultrascopic in the 2x shorty barlow - 360X. All this resulted in me sitting there for many minutes on end, waiting for clouds to pass, tree limbs to clear, and seeing to steady - if only for an instant. On at least three occasions, I was able to make out two distinctly different airy disks where previously only a single "elongated" version was visible. Unfortunately, at 360X the stars had this rather quirky tendency of leaping around. As a result of the ambiguities, I'm witholding judgement about having split this very tight double for the time being.

Based on this and other experiences, I would say that tight double stars are about the most difficult astronomical objects to view. The sky is rarely amenable to revealing such proximate components. When seen they are often "bathed in each others light". This lack of clear distinction - along with the very transcient, and unexpected opportunities when they do become visible - lends to a great deal of doubt. Again, I can only marvel at the old astronomers (such as Dawes and the Herschels) who painstakingly examined star after star, under varying sky conditions, year after year and compiled the double-star lists we tend to take for granted. Were I wearing a hat, I would remove it...

Scanner Online

A sketch of Jupiter under 5/10 stability skies with Io just off the limb: The real view displayed both high and low sky-frequencing blurring. Low frequency turbulence is seen as edge-blur (and sometimes edge-boil). High frequency blurring runs all the details though the blender. The result is just the two equatorial belts and polar regions. Occasional, during moments of rare stability, I could make out edge irregularities in the EBs plus thinning (splitting) of the SEB. At no time could I discern the NTB (most obvious of the minor belts).

The Great Nebula of Orion continues to sink low to the southwest early in the evening. Though the preceding image does it no justice, perhaps there is no finer tribute than (an attempt at) art emulating nature. Oh Great One, we salute you!

Tonight I learned that Castor can not be split at 50X under average seeing conditions. 120X however, clearly distinguished the 2nd and 3rd magnitude components - although the dark sky gap beteen them was rather narrow.

I also learned just how beautiful M48 (the Moon Goddess) and M67 could be (without the Moon to bleach out the stars). The absence of the Moon had lesser impact on Praesepe. Although tonight it could be acquired directly without telescopic aid.

The Moon Goddess was even more alluring this evening. Certainly 100 plus stars were visible. These, down to and exceeding magnitude 12. Although Her torso was still apparent, additional stars created an arrowhead pointing easterly toward Her clavical. Our Lady's northerly breast was well defined - rimmed round about to the west by a lovely circlet of a dozen 10 and 11th magnitude stars. Her southerly breast, though still suggested, was not nearly as well framed. Like most things anthropomorphized - you get out of it what your imagination brings into it. Rorchak anyone?

Although M48 pretty much filled the 1 degree 50X field, M67 left the bulk of it vacant. Unlike M48, M67 did not hold its "Bird on a Bowl" semblage quite as well. Perhaps 5 or 6 dozen stars now visibly populate the cluster. A single 7th magnitude blue star captured the eye to the northeast. Again it was an arrowhead of stars that broke up the earlier illusion. The arrowhead includes the 7th mag star and points along the same axis - to the northeast. The "bowl" takes up a position opposite this - to the southwest. If of a true circular appeareance, it would have been easy to see the symbol for "Mars" in the group. However, the bowl is quite oblate. In fact the view this evening was more like a 4-tined pitchfork. (The tines pointing, again, to the southwest.) Outside of the single bright star, M67 is a lovely dusting of 9 - 12+ magnitude stars.

As mentioned earlier, Praesepe was not significantly improved by the absence of the moon. Background mottling mentioned in an earler observation was still present - although now more dim stars stood clearly revealed. There are a whole lot more where those came from. Certainly over a hundred stars visible this evening - riding high on the Zenith - free of the Moon's glare.

The Intergalactic Wanderer is my usual first stop after viewing the pearlescent Castor double. This is the way it played out tonight too. I had to portage Argo over to the south side of the backyard redwood to catch M48 and M67. It was on returning to the north of the tree that I enjoyed Castor. And before revisiting Praesepe I settled into an extended session with the Wanderer.

From the very beginning of my tour of the heavens I've been particularly enthralled by globular clusters. They epitimize an advanced principle in human relationships. In the past a single human being here, or another there, would shine like a brilliant light. Those around them played moon to the "Great Persons" sun. A new era is now upon us. In this era, there are many brilliant "human lights". All these lights now have to learn to shine together. Thus, the Globular Cluster of Humanity is a very real possibility.

The Intergalactic Wanderer is a special twist on the Globular Cluster theme. Here we have a very distant, brilliantly lit, mass of suns moving through the heavens seeking. Seeking what? Traveling where? To what end? In a way this too is like humanity. We seek, we travel, we shine (well perhaps just a little.)

Tonight I was amazed how much more easily I could see the Wanderer. The Wanderer hasn't really gotten any closer. The sky isn't even as dark as it has been. Sure, Argo's a little healthier, but I think the answer is that I am becoming "attuned" to the Wanderer in some mysterious way. And as I attune I am able to see more.

This evening at 50X, I could hold the Wanderer directly - without aversion of sight. With extreme aversion I could make out a tight star-like core - along with a 4 arc-minute sized smudge of luminescence. At 120X the smudged looked slightly flattened to the southwest. Meanwhile, I could also make out a trio of 13th magnitude stars framing the cluster within a couple of arc minutes north, west, and south. The view at 180X was not much improved over that at 120. The best view was at 70. This magnification managed to darken the sky more than 50, but didn't spread the available light as thin as the higher magnifications. Several weeks ago I had difficulty even finding the Wanderer. Now I am becoming sensitized to it's unique virtues.

Having revisited the Wanderer - and made more of its acquaintence, I revisited Paresepe then moved on to finish up with a view of M81 and M82. Having had such an excellent view of the Wanderer I hoped to do even better with this pair of showcase galaxies. But this was not the case. By 9:30 the pair was well up in the sky, but still suffered from the Boulder Creek Lightdome. Despite this, some decent views were had - but nothing as captivating as that experienced through the Pup at the last SCAC star party. That view occured under dark sky conditions and goes to prove how important it is that a DSO be properly "framed" by the sky around it.

Both M81 and M82 could fit in the same 50X field. However, as mentioned earlier, 50X suffers from an excess of light scatter. So I switched over to 120X and took in each galaxy separately.

M82 is the more northerly of the two galaxies. It stretches out perhaps 10 arc-minutes east and west like a knife splitting the sky. The core of M82 is not of the luminous star-like variety. There is a gradual brightening from one end of the galaxy to the center and a diminishing outward again from there. Very gradual. A curious kneadiness or mottling is apparent - especially to the west. To the south the nearly edge-on galaxy is broken by a dark lane. The lane itself is not visible - only the sharpness by which it truncates the galaxy. Overall, I'd say the galaxy covered a region of the sky, maybe, 2 by 10 arc-minutes. I noticed a pair of 11th magnitude stars to the west-southwest. A quick scan around the galaxy showed several small light mounds. These may very well be companion galaxies. Two such mounds were possible 12 arc-minutes due east and 6 arc-minutes due south.

M81 unlike M82, has a compact star-like core. It is also less severely edge on and displays a greater luminosity gradient core to arm tips. Under extreme averted vision, a sense of spiral was possible. The spiral was well outside the directly acquired portion of the galaxy. General orientation of M81 is north-south. Size perhaps 6 by 14 arc-minutes. (Half of which is possible under direct sight.) A pair of 12th magnitude stars were just off core-axis to the southwest. At first I thought the galaxy oriented toward the more easterly of the pair, but when hints of spiral structure were revealed I got the sense that the galaxy actually aligned better with the more westerly of the two.

Every object viewed tonight had been tracked down and studied previously. Some under poor, others under decent conditions. It is unclear how much longer Jupiter will present a decent face. Certainly Saturn is no longer amenable to view. The Great Nebula is fading fast. Meanwhile, I am beginning to transition into "galaxy" mode. There is much more of Ursa Major to explore, along with Leo, Coma Bernices, Virgo, and Canes Venatici. Later Mars will become the planet of choice. At about the same time Scorpio, Sagitarius and the Summer Triangle will dominate the sky. How can anyone stay so close to home, yet travel so very far?

Dances With Clouds

Tonight was another of those glorious evenings when the stars duck in and out behind fast-moving clouds. This behavior was particularly uncalled for due to the fine GOES image forcast seen early in the evening. But not to worry - there will be other nights. And because of nights such as this, I intend to appreciate even the least of cloudfree skies con mucho gusto.

As you can see, I did get a chance to record a sketch of Jupiter. At the time, Jupiter hung perhaps forty degrees above the western horizon. Sky conditions were slightly better than last evening. Both nights revealed the split in the SEB. However, tonight the split was more obvious. The NTB was also visible. As you can see, a huge clot of material lay right on the central meridian of the NEB. Portions extended south into the EZ and north into the NTZ. Contrast was also quite noticeable. Delineation between the NNTZ and the NPR was also a little more salient this evening. Jupiter - unlike Saturn - seems to be leaving behind a few traveling gifts as it heads west into the sunset.

Castor was a clean split at 70X this evening. I made an attempt using the 35mm - 50X eyepiece - but no go. A while back I mentioned the need to find a new double-star to assess sky stability. Castor can't fullfill that role because - well, it's just too easily split. Xi Ursa Majoris was my main prospect at the time. And it remains so. On a very good night the 80mm Pup with 3x barlow and 9mm Ploessl just barely separates the pair. Argo had no difficult under tonights - slightly better than average conditions. Xi is about as difficult a split as Iota Cassiopeia - but not quite as pretty. (Iota is triple with nice colors.)

The book says Xi consists of a magnitude 4.4 primary and 8.9 secondary. Separation, 2.3 arc-seconds. My own observations - both tonight and with the Pup a month ago - agree with the separation. But the magnitudes of the two stars are much more closely matched. I'd say roughly magnitude 4.5 and 7.5. Using the Double Star Separation Calculator and the published figures, Argo should only be able to make a clean split of the pair on a night of excellent (9/10) stability. (The Pup should not be able to make the split under any conditions.) Using the same tool and assuming the closer match in magnitudes above, Argo can get a dirty split of the pair on a 5 of 10 night and the Pup under the best possible conditions. Frankly, it's just not possible for me to accept that Xi's secondary is almost of the ninth magnitude...

In viewing Xi, I noticed the primary trailing the secondary across the field of view. This almost precisely. As such it's position angle must be very close to 270 degrees (north zero, east 90). Both stars were yellow. However, the secondary was more difficult to pin down. (I saw it variously as silver white, pale blue, and yellow.)

After viewing Xi, I switched over to Iota Ursa Majoris. Iota is comprised of a 3.1 magnitude primary and secondary of magnitude 10.8. Separation on the pair is 7 arc-seconds. The Double Star Separation calculator predicts that under the very best of conditions, I'd never be able to pick out such a faint secondary that close to a bright primary. Well, I saw nothing, nada, zilch, gooseeggs, null, scratch. But I just have to make another check under darker, stiller conditions just to see if I can prove the calculator WRONG.

It's now 11:15. I'm going to take a peek outside. Hold on, I'll be right b...

OK, I'm back. The sky is almost overcast. I didn't miss much by putting away the scope. Bet them clouds were disappointed though. The native's round these parts call me "Dances with Clouds". The clouds don't like to dance alone.

Message Received

Despite occasional inaccuracies, I've come to value GOES satellite images when making decisions regarding the when and where of observation. Last night for instance, satellite shots made a solid argument for sticking close to home. (Of course, I could have concluded the same by just sticking my head out the window.) This evening GOES said, "high thin clouds, get away from light pollution" so I headed over to the Ridge. (Again, I could have made the same decision based on the peculiar metallic sheen displayed by the late afternoon sky.) But tonight's images also said: "Pack up and head home when the clouds start rolling in around 10:00." As it turned out just as I caught M81 in the main tube (around 10:15), sky transparency fell apart. Lower, thicker clouds began to roll in from the west.

The evening started around 7:30. It was about that time when I arrived at the Ridge to setup and watch the sun drop below the horizon. A little later I had the binoculars out sweeping for Jupiter in the still bright sky. To the northwest I caught a large passenger jet heading southeast out from the San Francisco air corridor. It left a gorgeous, plume of broken luminescence as it lumbered across the sky. Binos gave a nice view of two lusty streams exiting the wing nacelles. Contrails extended several miles across the sky. They were quite battered by turbulence...

By 8:00 I picked Jupiter out of the dusk. First look showed a great deal of instability. This was later confirmed by a quick check of Xi Ursa Majoris. And echoed by the chaos seen in a-focal star images. Still, Castor could be split at 120x.

Earlier in the day I did some research on the Xi Ursa Majoris binary. Webb's Volume II "Celestial Objects for Common Telescopes" gives some details on page 243. Xi was the first binary to have it's period calculated (60.8 years). Over this cycle primary-secondary separation varies from 3.0 to 0.9 arc-seconds. (Minima 1933.) Stellar magnitudes 4.0 & 4.9. Based on these numbers, the Double Star Separation Calculator says that Argo should be able to split the pair on a a 5/10 stability night. (Te 80mm refractor Pup needs a night of excellent stability.) Tonight Xi was an occasional "dirty-split" - but mostly it was inseparable. I got enough of a view to see that the secondary could easily be in the 5 to 6 magnitude realm. So Webb's value makes sense (while the 8.9 listed in "Seasonal Star Charts" - sold by Orion B&T - is well off the mark).

The sky was so poor this evening that there were times when both of Jupiters equatorial belts disappeared from view. The planet literally looked like a huge "fuzz ball" for several seconds at a time. I spent about fifteen minutes getting in touch with the crazy behavior of that "ocean of air" over our heads by following the effect on Jupiter's august personnage. I moved on when I saw the Hunter's form take shape in the southwest sky.

The view to the southwest is much better from the Ridge than from my backyard. I spent a good deal of time contemplating the Great Nebula. Transparency was pretty poor - along with sky position. But who cares, we are talking about the Great Nebula in Orion. I payed particular attention to large scale nebulosity. Tucks and folds are the cats meow on high trasnparency nights. But on occasions such as this, it makes sense to take in the "big picture". Large regions of space well away from the Trapezium showed low surface brightness luminosity. In fact I could trace some all the way out to near the fine double star Iota Orionis. Nebulosity could also be seen north of that great dark barrier which separates M43 from M42. Continued exploration of the "Greater Orion Nebula Area" will be nice to take up again next winter...

Earlier this month I tracked down a trio of NGC galaxies from my backyard while the Moon was approaching 50%. Of the three galaxies, two were found without question and one (NGC2681 in Lynx) was on the limits. On that occasion, the sky itself was quite natively transparent. Tonight there was no Moon, but transparency was curtailed due to the ubiquitous high thin cloud layer. (I could just make out 4.5 magnitude Lambda Leonis on the Zenith unaided.) So in a sense conditions were similar.

However, without the Moon and under these 4.5ULTM conditions, I was perhaps a tad more confident about locating 10.3 magnitude galaxy NGC2861. I saw a small 1 arc-minute galactic core, (with some possible extension east-west). Motion of the eyes caused the familiar "flashing" effect which suggests additional galactic detail at the limits of perception. The core itself could just be held at 50X (similar to the Intergalactic Wanderer - NGC2419 - which I also revisited briefly this evening). Again I found the two 10th magnitude stars (oriented southeast to northwest and separated by about 15 arc minutes) which form a flat triangle with 2681. A darker night will be needed to discern any more than this.

Earlier during moon tide, I also visited NGC2841 (located just southeast of 37 Lynx - perhaps 5 degrees east of 2681). Galaxy 2841 is a full magnitude brighter than 2681. And despite the dimming effect of twice the surface area, 2841 is in an entirely different league observationally. Elongation of the core - only hinted at in 2681 - is obvious in 2841. A "stellar point" of supreme luminosity is also seen. Outside the core point, there is a gradual dimming outward about 1 arc-minute southeast and northwest. Averted vision easily doubles the size of the galaxy - with a subtle hint of enhanced size and brightness to the southeast.

Again, earlier in the month, I turned up NGC2683 (located near the Sigma star group in Cancer). Reminscent of 2841, this 9.8 magnitude galaxy appears better delineated. However it lacks 2841's bright, star-like center. Galaxy 2683 manages to spread it's quota of light a little more liberally throughout its slender knife-like form. At 2 by 6 arc-minutes, there is a nice luminosity gradient to be seen. The galaxy does a nice job of distinguishing itself from space around it. Again, "knife-like: - in reference to its edges - comes to mind. I noticed a dim 12th magnitude star perhaps 3 arc-minutes east of the center of 2683. The galaxy itself orients along the west-southwest to east-northeast axis.

My one new find for the evening was galaxy NGC2903. Galaxy 2903 is located about 2 degrees south of Lambda Leonis. At magnitude 4.5 Lambda - itself - makes a nice test of sky transparency. If it can be held directly, then conditions are passable, otherwise, you out for the experience...

According to the books, NGC2903 is large (13x7 arc-minutes), and reasonably bright (9.0 cumulative magnitude). the Deepsky Visual Brightness Calculator indicates the galaxy may be found by a 2 inch scope. But it should give a fine view in something approaching 250mm's. Galaxy 2903 is a real beauty and deserves some "quality time". It's hard to imagine that Messier missed this one - especially given its location near the ecliptic. Under tonight's less than ideal seeing conditions, I could easily make out 3 by 6 arc-minutes of what is probably the central third of the galaxy. Occasionally within that central third, I caught brief flashes of a, somewhat muted, stellar core. NGC2903's luminosity gradient is similar to that of galaxy NGC2683. Averted vision hints at a certain "spiralesqueness" outside the central portion. Overall it is quite similar to M81 in Ursa Major. This, in terms of structure, extent and presentation angle.

In fact, the view of NGC2903 prompted me to visit M81 and M82 again this evening. In looking over my charts I also noted galaxy NGC2976 - southwest of M81 - and galaxy NGC3077 - closer and southeast of M81. Leaving the 70X 25mm Ultrascopic in the scope, I followed the curve of 4th and 5th magnitude stars northeast from Omicron Ursa Majoris until M81 could be made out in the finder. One look through the main tube had me rubbing my hands together and covering my head with a towel for an extended visit. I could see obvious signs of texture along the galaxies broken, but still quite lenticular body.

It was at this time, 10:15 PSDT, that low-flying clouds moved in and reminded me that it was time to pack up and head home.

Pup's Night to Dance

The Pup's been packed a way since Eric, Sharon, and I returned from Fremont Peak (at the end of March). This afternoon I started hearing those little whines and whimpers that said "Can I come out and play?" So, being the sensitive sort, I just had to let the Pup out of his travel bag. While pulling all the pieces together, I explained how broken clouds were likely to blow in for the evening. How such clouds can make seeing astronomical objects difficult (if not impossible). And how sometimes its better if the sky is completely overcast so you just get on with the rest of your life... Of course, all this expectation management was probably as good for me as the Pup. So, when these things came to pass, the Pup and I maintained our spirits and did what we could with what we had.

Just before dark, I pushed the Pups limits a little, and give him a chance to stretch his optical legs. The target was the 2 mile distant snow fence and cell phone tower I use for optics testing. The stretch was the stack of lenses added to the lightpath: 9mm Ploessl (4 elements) and two barlows lenses. All this added up to about 220 magnification. (Or roughly 65X per inch of aperture.) Of course, the Pup took the load quite nicely. Per inch aperture, I'd say almost as well as Argo does - perhaps even better. Of course by the time you stack two barlows, an eyepiece plus the two lenses in the objective you've got about 11 pieces of glass between your eye and what you're seeing. But surprise, when I later turned the same configuration on Jupiter I was very pleased with image brightness.

Image detail, however, is a different story - two equatorial bands, sans features and edge irregularities. But the edge looked reasonably sharp, and the polar regions decently present. I suspect the view might have been better if the sky had a chance to darken before Jupiter sank to the west. It might also have been nice if I could have viewed the planet clearly for more than 5 or 10 seconds at a time.

Eventually the sky did darken. (Strange how this seems to happen daily.) With Xi Ursa Majoris high overhead, I quickly placed it in the sights. (Previously, I had removed the 2x shorty barlow and configured with the 10mm Ultrascopic and 3x Ultrascopic barlow.) After a few seconds of study, I saw Xi fully separate into a nice cleanly spaced pair of stars embraced by mutual diffraction rings. The split was not sustainable however. Most of the time the two stars were entrained in their outsized spurious disks. (What I have conventionally described as a "dirty split" - something more obvious than elongation, but less spectacular than compete separation.)

Being in a double-star mood, I switched over to Castor. At 120X, the gap between the 2nd and 3rd magnitude components remained more or less constant. In fact that gap was greater than the larger of the two spurious disks. The Pup is a very respectable binary star scope - even as, for whatever reason, I have yet to get a decent view of Jupiter.

The sky was as dark as it got the whole evening by this time. Clouds continued to roll in from the northwest. Overhead I could just make out 4.5 magnitude Lambda Leonis. I ventured north, well past 70 Geminorium to locate the faint group of 8th magnitude stars that share the field with the Intergalactic Wanderer (NGC2419).

Having precise knowledge of the Wanderer's relationship with three 8 mag field stars made it possible to find it. However, even with the sky darkening provided by 120X, the Pup was not able to supply enough contrast for this 10.4 magnitude globular cluster to be held directly. So, with moderate aversion, the Wanderer revealed itself as a splash of dim light - but reveal itself it did. The Pup done good!

I spent the next half-hour or so absorbing photons and quietly singing the few words I can remember - and the many I could make up - of an old folk song: "I am a weary and a lonesome traveller... I just keep traveling on." Now everybody sing!

About this time, Praesepe began its descent from the central meridian. I removed the barlow and dropped down to 40X. Even at 40X, the cluster spilled outside the 1 1/4 degree field of view. I replaced the 10mm with the 35mm. At 12X, M44 took up little more than one quarter the field. In fact, I could also take in the 4th magnitude Gamma and Delta along with 5th magnitude Nu Cancri.

Praesepe showed perhaps 3 dozen 5th through 10th magnitude stars. (10th magnitude is a bit of a strech at 13X for the Pup - especially on a 4.5 night.) In viewing the cluster, I noticed two distinct asterisms. One, the brighter, gave the appearance of an ellipse oriented east-west. The other dimmer asterism, looked like a "T" with the top toward the north. In combination, the two gave the illusion or a "helicopter" of stars. The helicopter perpetually hovering while pointing to the east between Gamma and Delta.

Before departing, I setup the 120X combination again. The background sky darkened up nicely. Far more stars were seen - perhaps doubling the count. Hundreds of dimmer but imperceptible stars gave the field a rich and attractive texture.

Clouds continued rolling in in groups. The sky to the north above Boulder Creek alternately waxed and waned in luminosity. I mapped out a plan to revisit M81 and M82. I hoped to also catch two NGC galaxies in the same area - NGCs 2976 and 3077.

I caught the sky just as it was going down for the count. On acquiring M82, I could instantly see that this near edge on galaxy displayed luminosity variations along its length. It actually appeared somewhat battered, kind of scruffy. Just the sort of detail that is interesting to the eye. Between clouds I noticed the galaxy's northern flank tended to "bulge" slightly - compared to its more sharply delineated southern flank. I could also see at least three stars lying right along - or very near - its lenticular edge. The brightest of these - of magnitude 10, lay to the west. The galaxy itself seemed to take up a region maybe 2 by 8 arc-minutes. Orientation along the east-west axis. Even with the high thin clouds (and the Boulder Creek lightdome) I would describe the galaxy as showing a fair amount of contrast with the sky - however at times it (and its brighter neighbor - M81) would completely disappear from view.

Before detailing M82, I had a chance to view the entire region around M81 and M82 at 12X. The two galaxies - oriented north south - took up less than 25% of the field. To M82's west (the more northerly of the pair) I could see 5th magnitude 23 Ursa Majoris. A slightly dimmer 6th magnitude star lay closer to and west of M81. Several dim "light mounds" could occasionally be imagined flashing in the same field. It will take a darker night for me to confirm that any of these were 10.2 - 5x3 arc-minute sized NGC2976 (forming the southern apex of a traingle with M81 and it's westerly 5th magnitude field star) or 9.9 magnitude - 5x4 arc-minute sized NGC3077 (located half a degree southeast of M81). Unless the night is very dark, I'll probably half to turn this pair up with Argo first.

M82 did not get a full inspection this evening through the Pup. The sky collapsed before this was possible. What I did see was perhaps slightly less intriguing than M81. 81 is larger (10x5 arc-minutes directly visible), has a bright star-like central core. Displays a continuous brightness gradient from the center outward. The galaxy orients more or less north and south and presents itself as elliptical in shape.

I did notice one peculiarity about M81. It seemed to me that the large, bright core region has a halo. The halo extends primarily to the east and easily doubles the size of the galaxy. Unlike Argo however, M81 did not give a sense of "spiraliscity" through the Pup - regardless of how much I flitted about the field of view.

The Pup's OTA and mount are now joined. He stands tall and ready for his next night out. I find myself enjoying backyard outtings with him. The refractor's optics display excellent wide-field views. This enables me to expand my "contextual sense" of the sky. Without the Pup to the kit, clusters like Praesepe, the Pleiades, and the Double Cluster in Perseus could not fit within a single telescopic field. A second scope of smaller aperture also help's you appreciate the extra reach and detail of a larger scope. Finally, the Pup allows me to test out my eyepieces and other accessories on a second OTA. Tonight, for instance, I took the opportunity to confirm that issues associated with Argo have more to do with astigmatic 35mm Ultrascopic eyepiece elements than with Argo itself.

Here's looking through you, Pup.

I like the Night Life, I Like to Boggle!

Like most astronomy clubs, SCAC - Santa Cruz Astronomy Club - schedules star parties around the Moon. These are typically held two consecutive Saturday evenings immediately after the 3rd quarter. Tonight was no exception. One pattern I've noticed is that attendence tends to be low whenever daylight conditions are less than promising. Until about 4:00 PM this afternoon, prospects for a star party were poor. In fact, while stretching on the back deck, I saw numerous low cummulous clouds drift toward the west, while simultaneously, high thin cirrus clouds swept eastward. Personally, I've never seen anything like "contrapuntal" cloud motion before. This might very well have been worth the loss of the party alone. But that sacrifice to the Meteorological Gods did not have to be made.

Around 4:00, clouds began vacating the sky - by whatever direction. However, well above the lower cummulous and higher cirrus, a third layer could be detected. From one end of the sky to the other, a very thin layer of "moist air" gave the sky that "metallic silver-white" sheen which always means limited sky transparency. (Along with more than the usual amount of light pollution.) As it turned out, transparency proved to be somewhat better than expected (5.0+ at the zenith). More importantly, sky stability was outstanding (8/10). So all in all, not a bad deal. Especially given the view of the planets (Jupiter in particular) and Saturn (to a lesser degree) at dusk - even with Argo suffering a touch of tube currency.

Knowing we will lose the last of the decent views of Jupiter within a month, I spent almost an hour in slack-jawed jubilation executing the humble "labor of love" you see at left. While sketching, I mentally ticked off the list of features seen: Belt edge irregularities in both the NEB and SEB. Obvious split of the SEB into three lesser belt zones. A small light oval at NEB east. The EB bisecting the EZ. Faint corriolus lines leading into the EZ - especially from the NEB. A nicely delineated NTB. An NNTB almost completely distinct from the NPR. Nice blue gray contrast gradients leading toward both poles. Had the planet been a little higher - under the same conditions - I have no doubt that a plethora of intra-equatorial belt detail would have been revealed. - Something to look forward to next cycle...

While Jupiter was not more than 40 degrees elevated above the western horizon - Saturn was half that. This detracted somewhat from the view. Even so, Cassini was quite sharp at times, the SEB was very distinct, the planet's shadow on the posterior east ring was nicely delineated, and a bit of the inner dusky ring was possible. Essentially, the nicest view of Saturn seen since late January. So all in all, the drawing at left shows how a primetime Saturn looks in Argo on a slightly better than average night (6/10). While that of Jupiter equalled (or perhaps slightly surpassed) that seen on a solid 7/10 night near opposition last year.

The sky was so stable that two of the scopes present (Argo being one) achieved clean splits of the .9 arc-second Zeta Cancri pair. High magnifications (roughly 350X) were required by both scopes (the other was Derrick's 8" Meade LX200). A lot of ducks have to line up on a pond to split a sub one arc-second double. First you need aperture (125mm +). And not only aperture but well-shaped optics. And not only refined optics, but good optical collimation. Then there's the right binary (equal magnitudes in the range of magnitude 4 to 8). And finally - most unpredictably - the right night. (I had not been able to conclusively split this pair earlier under 7/10 seeing.) Like I said - a lot of ducks...

Speaking of Derrick's scope. Last time we observed together, the SCT's correction lens looked a bit "dust-afflicted". At that time, the 200mm performed only marginally better than 150mm Argo. Tonight was a different story. In every area of comparison, the 200mm SCT gave the better views - especially on the galaxies - but also in double-star resolution. (I was unable to tear myself away from Jupiter long enough to determine what kind of view the SCT was getting there - but I'm sure it was fine.) So, that extra 50mm's does make a difference! But, as I say again, not enough an advantage to encourage me to move up to that aperture. And only in the particular case of a scope bearing optics on par with Argo.

As mentioned, the evening's 8/10 stability conduced to incredible views of stars and double stars and multiple stars of all types. Basically every star in the magnitude range of 2 to 8 showed nice tight airy disks surrounded by lovely , but not entirely circumferential - diffraction rings. Zeta Cancri was almost easy in both scopes - particularly the 200mm. The gold and green pair Gamma Leonis (magnitudes 2.3 and 3.5 at 4 arc-seconds) was stunningly beautiful. Brilliant Castor could be split at 50X in the 200mm and was better than elongated at the same power in 150mm Argo. There were exceptions. I turned Argo on the Trapezium for about a five minute 360X search for dimmer companions. No go. To find 11.0 and 11.5 magnitude stars within 4 arc-seconds of brighter 6th magnitude companions, in a glowing region of nebulous dust and gas requires a dark steady well-positioned location in the sky. Thinking back, I'd say the Trapezium was within 30 degrees of the southwest horizon at the time. As mentioned, the sky, in general, just wasn't all that transparent. Sky position was also a factor much later when we turned both scopes on the Antares double (1.5, 3.2 - 3 arc-seconds) but very poor sky position (probably 20 degrees above the southeast horizon) made that split impossible.

After the Antares attempt, I noticed the Hercules Keystone perhaps forty degrees above the northeast horizon. Certainment we simply had to view M13 mais oui! But first let's set the stage. On the plus side: M13 is reasonably well positioned. The sky is rock steady. Both scopes are in fine form. The negatives: A bit of light pollution. Reduced atmospheric transparency. What do you think? Bon cherche, oui ou non? Incredibly, both scopes resolved stars completely across the core. Hundreds of tiny pin prick jewels of light! Sweeping arches of stars looping and swirling like a spirograph. Never have I seen The Great Hercules Cluster so finely crafted. Surely the hand of God shaped magnificently' Now I can truly understand why so many amateurs exalt M13 to demi-god status. The effect was transcendental. Even a sense of psychological color about the globular. There's gold in them stars! And another heirloom memory: Two pairs of extended star arcs streaming east and west. Each arc closing back toward its opposite after greatest divergence north and south. The total effect was that of a double-ended scarab. Two long arching tusks - fore and aft - leading and trailing Le Grande Assemblage across the sky.

Now back to some practical realities... The stillness of the sky was only matched by its humidity. Both scopes required frequent, and repeated de-humidification. This was particularly needful during extended forays into Ursa Major and Canes Venatici. Such forays took up the bulk of the viewing time between the hour of Zeta Cancri (9:00PDST) and Antares (12:30 PDST).

Derrick and I delayed departure until we had a chance to turn our scopes on Mars. Unfortunately, the Red Planet was even lower in the sky than Antares. Both showed considerably atmospherically-induced chromatic aberration. Mars showed perhaps a hint of detail - between the red and orange chroma regions. And this only just before Derrick packed up the 200mm. (I preceded him by about 15 minutes in breaking down Argo around 1:00PDST.)

As mentioned, the bulk of the evening was devoted to the Galaxies of Spring. Argo - on those in Uras Major - while the 200mm with goto turned freely to Leo as well.

To be complete M13 wasn't the only globular viewed tonight. The Intergalactic Wanderer begged for a little more aperture, so Derrick turned the 200mm on it. Definitely brighter and more present at 8 inches. However, no sign of anything resembling resolution. Basically, the core could be picked out, along with perceptible dimming to the frontier. All, at least to me, with direct perception. Argo's view of the Wanderer was similar to past reports. Again that extra 50mm in objective cross-section does help. What a difference five orders of magnitude make! One cluster (mag 5.9 M13) bearing a princely mantle of hundreds of perceptible stars. The other (10.4 magnitude NGC2419) barely bright enough to be held directly by the eager eye of the observer.

Due to low turnout (there was a third observer, Dave(?) who brought along his virgin Orion XT-8) I was able to treat much of the evening as an opportunity to extend my observing plan. Three galaxy studies (NGC's 3077 and 2976 - near M81 & M82 - and M108) plus planetary nebula M97 (the Owl nebula complete with background hooting at the observing site) were detailed. During every instance of parallel observation between the 150 and the 200, Derrick's SCT performed as I might expect Argo would if an extra 50mm of apertures were magically added.

Well it's now 4am. Sharon just reminded me that I comitted to quitting. So I'm going to post this part of the report and finish up the rest sometime tomorrow. No final edit either, so now you will will see just how poorly I really write! Good Night, World!

It's 11:15PDST Sunday the 15th. I just edited and extensively revised the first half of this report. Got a gig in Scotts Valley. Later this afternoon I'll move on to cover the middle third of last evenings observations. Stay tuned!

The gig went very well, thank you. Bassist Bill and guitar-/vocal-ist Jeff are starting to pull it together. Bill used to play for the USAF swing band in Europe - so he knows what he's about. I started playing jazz maybe three years ago and am finally starting to pull my own weight both instrumentally and vocally. Pity the poor ears that heard me sing and play early on. Ouch.

At magnitude 9.9 spread out over 18 arc-minutes, NGC3077 was not an easy find. But was bright enough to be held at 50X with direct vision. Only about 4 round arc-minutes of the galaxy could be seen. The view at 120x showed a bright central core with a dimmer surface glow bleeding off into space. Contrast was quite low. Moderately averted vision caught perhaps another arc-minute of the galaxy. There was no obvious frontier however - so more is out there. The galaxy formed a right triangle with a pair of brighter 8/9th magnitude stars. One lay due west by perhaps 5 arc-minutes. The other north of that by 10.

While 3077 locates about one degree east and 30 arc-minutes south of M81, NGC2976 is a little more distant - perhaps 2 degrees south and 1 degree west. 2976 is also more edge on (actually elliptical) is shape oriented north-northwest to south-southeast. A wedge shaped asterism of 10th and 11th matgnitude stars brackets it 10 arc-minutes to the east. The wedge takes up perhaps one-half of the 50X 1 degree 35mm Ultrascopic field. Although the galaxy can be held directly at 50x, there is not much in the way of detail. Unlike 3077, no star-like core - only a gradual bleed of luminosity into space. Under moderate aversion the entire listed 3X5 arc-minutes of 2976 could be detected. I suspect that neither 2976 or 3077 are likely to be seen in the Pup under similar conditions. It is no surprise that Messier missed these two galaxies.

Charles Messier did manage to turn up the next studies from my observing list - M108 and M97. These two Messier's are intermediate between M81&82 and the two NGCs discussed above in terms of susceptibility. M108 should be easy to find - but for some reason I kept having difficulties. As it turned out the source of the problem was meniscus dewing. I was easily losing a full magnitude to a fine spray of atomized water on the lens surface. Fortunately Derrick brought along a field battery and "mini-hair drier" unit. I'd say we used the thing at least a half a dozen times each. Typically when we nioticed that stars were winking out in the field of view - or as in my case - as a nice excuse for not finding stuff.

M108 is even more edge on than NGC2976 and, as mentioned, appreciably brighter. In fact it looks similar to M82 but requires a larger scope to make out any texture. I caught perhaps 10x2 arc-minutes of the galaxy with moderate aversion. M108, unlike M82, does seem to have a more definitive core. Though distinct, the core appeared to be about as bright as a 12th magnitude star. 108's contrast with the background sky was OK, but again not as sharp as 82. I noticed a 12th magnitude star leading the tip of 108 across the sky to the west. Two 10th magnitude stars, separated by about 10 arc-minutes pointed at the galaxy - also from the west - and if memory serves, slightly north. M108 is not quite needle-like in shape - I believe the common term is "cigar-shaped".

I had previously viewed the next study - M97 - through the Pup at the last SCAC star party. The sky was at least .5 magnitudes deeper at the time. Even so, at 11.2 magnitudes spread over perhaps 12 square-minutes - I was pleased to get any sense of detail in this "roundish" apparition. With Argo, more uniqueness was possible. The east seemed slightly oblate and trailed off in terms of surface brightness. The leading western region was brighter and had better definition. Certainly the frontier was detectable. Between the two I could just catch a dark "owls eye" to the south. Very near the northern edge of the planetary I could see a 12th magnitude field star. Didn't notice any stars within the nebula itself. The northern owls eye was not detectable. Perhaps "closed to public viewing" on this occasion...

Having payed obeisance to the "Gods of Self-Imposed Discipline", I was now free to observe as I wilt. One Messier discovery of questionable provinces is M40. This wide double of 9th magnitude stars is found about a degree north-northwest of Beta Ursa Majoris. The brighter of the two leads the dimmer across the sky. Separation very close to 1 arc-minute. Colors were mildly intriguing: The brighter blue and the dimmer greenish-blue. There is nothing about this pair that smacks of nebulosity. What was the "Comet Ferret" thinking? (Or possibly "What was he drinking?")

Like M81 & M82 - M106 in Canes Venatici is located in the "celestial sticks". I finally located it by creating an imaginary right triangle off Delta and Chi Ursa Majoris - then swept the field like you would do with a Dob. The interesting thing about the galaxy is the sense of having "dual star-like cores".

Perhaps the most interesting of the evenings "new lights" was galaxy M101 -located well east of the wide double Mizar-Alcor. This thing is huge! And offers lots of possibilites for seeing detached nebulosity. In fact using the 200mm, I was just able to catch a spiral arm. A darker night and lots of quality time - who knows - Argo may just show something similar.

And thus an evening well spent. Excellent planetary. Passable deepsky. Amiable, amenable, and knowledgeable company. And The Great Globular Cluster of Northern Skies Incredibly Well Presented. Ho hum, just another night in the life.

How's your night life?

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Galaxies in the Mist

One of the deepest, most profoundly engaging mysteries of my so-called astronomical life has been the failure of the Pup to show more than the two equatorial belts on Jupiter. Well tonight I have one less mystery to confound, vex, and otherwise complicate my convoluted world. The Pup finally showed enough detail on Jupiter to slake my designs and aspirations...

Tonight's sky was comparable in stability to that of the previous evening. On that occasion, Argo gave most satisfactory views of Jupiter - irrespective of its relatively low sky position. Saturn too was well-presented. Again, despite even poorer sky position. With the prospect of good seeing before me, I couldn't help but carry both scopes out on the back lawn for a few comparisons.

Again this evening, Argo delivered views comparable to (perhaps just a tad less satisfying than) those seen last evening. Possessed of this baseline sanity check, the Pup had no choice but to deliver the goods. And with his back (hackles raised) against the wall, the Pup rose in solemn strength and did so. To wit: Belt edge irregularities on the NEB, a glimpse of the NTB, and nicely graduated polar darkening, with some macro level contrast variations in both equatorial belts. Not much, but decent for 80mm's with 11 pieces of glass between seer and seen.

What the Pup did not show: Split in the SEB, smattering of finer detail in the NEB, delicate EB, and belt-like delineation at the fringes of the polar regions.

Conclusion: If the Pup approximated Argo's aperture, views of the planets would be comparable - and possibly superior - to those revealed by Argo.

What made this comparo possible? Well of course, the fine stability. Plus the fact that I could stack two barlows together along with the 15mm Ultrascopic eyepiece to achieve a high enough magnification (150X plus).

To be complete, I also dropped both scopes down on a low Saturn. Cassini was nice in Argo, and satisfactory in the Pup. Both scopes showed the SEB. But Argo's resolution of finer details could not be approached by the small refractor.

Having allayed remaining concerns about the Pups capabilities, I spent the rest of the evening (once truly dark) advancing my observing plan with Argo. First up: That premiere double star in Leo: Gamma Leonis. Most fetching. The 2nd magnitude primary is warm yellow in color and leads the pair across the sky. The 4th magnitude secondary shows a uniquely gorgeous shade of golden-orange. The pair is quite close - about the same as the Castor double. So just about any decent scope will split it - even on relatively poor nights. But when the air is particularly steady (such as tonight) the view is unsurpassed. Both stars showed palpable airy disks, with sufficient separation to prevent diffraction rings from interfering with one another. For me the beauty of the pair lies in the color of the secondary. Most engaging and worthy of many revisits - once the grueling pace of this years observation plan is behind me.

Later, and just before coming in for the evening, I turned Argo on Kappa Leonis. A widely disparate magnitude pair (4.9 and 10.5) separated by a mere 3 arc-seconds. Sound familiar? Well you might recall a certain Iota Ursa Majoris - magnitudes 3.1 and 10.3 separation 10.3 arc-seconds - a previous "no show". Now both doubles must be added to the "Most Wanted" list.

Also just had to try 360X on the Intergalatic Wanderer. Unfortunately the attempt was made early in the evening with the sky just beginning to darken. (The barlow was in place for the planets and was retired soon after.) Nothing much came of this experiment per se. But I noted a few things of interest. First, only the brightest core of the globular was detectable. Second, many dimmer stars than ordinarily seen at 120X were perceptible. Finally, one of the 8th magnitude stars that points toward the cluster is double. (Secondary probably 5 arc-seconds distant and of nearly the 13th magnitude.) I didn't take any notes on this so I'm not sure if the closer or further star (further?) is the binary but a future observation will clarify things...

Between the two Leo doubles, I spent considerable time tracking down four galaxies located about 8 degrees due east of Regulus - between the Big Cat's paws. Should have been easy. However, about this time atmospheric Boulder Creek received waves of semi-transparent clouds. (I call it "high-flying mist".) The four galaxies in question (M95, 96, 105 and NGC3384) all sport average surface brightness in the range of 12.2 (M105) to 12.8 (NGC3384). Keep in mind that at 50X, Argo can at best peer down to magnitude 11.4 on a 4.6 ULTM night, add the clouds and you get the picture - views of bright central cores bleeding off rapidly into space. Thankfully, through the good graces of averted vision, higher magnification (120X) and occasional gaps between "mist" I was able to complete initial studies of all four galaxies.

In searching for the quaternary, I actually turned up the brightest - M96 - first. This was helpful since ol'96 is the key to finding the others. Center on M96, swing 1 degree west, slightly south and you take in M95. Return to M96, sweep 1 degree north and slightly east and both M105 and NGC3384 take their place in the field of view. To locate M96 first though, I dropped 1 degree south from Regulus and slewed due east. My goal was the first 6th magnitude star about one and a half finder fields distant. Switch to the main tube and sweep a degree and a half north and slightly west to take in M96. A cinch - as long as the view doesn't include much in the way of "extended white fuzzies".

I was, in fact, able to view all four galaxies - even with the clouds. Interestingly, it was the clouds that highlighted each central core. The roughly 10.5 magnitude embers at the heart of each galaxy were all that could be readily seen. Later, between clouds, other views were possible.

Even with the clouds, M96 was not a hard find. It's 10th magnitude fuzzy core gave it away readily. As clouds cleared, I could see the galaxy extend over a roundish 6X5 arc-minutes with an east-northeast-west-southwest elongation. Contrast was poor with the mist present, but under a local 4.5 ULTM sky, it looked pretty fair when the mist parted. M96 forms a flat triangle with a widely spaced 10th magnitude pair of stars (to it's north). On switching to 120X, I noticed that the bright part of the core lay very near the center of the visible part of the galaxy.

The visible portion of M95 is similar to M96 in size. But the galaxy shows significantly less contrast with the sky. I got a sense of a slight elongation along the east-west axis. A 120X inspection revealed that core-central is offset visibly to the south. Two stars - magnitude 10.5 and 11.5 - frame the galaxy west and east respectively. These are separated by about 8 arc-minutes.

M105 shares the field of view with galaxy NGC3384. 105 is smaller than M96, say a roundish 4 arc-minutes, Its core is quite bright. I got a sense of slight elongation along the west-southwest axis. Like M95, 105 showed offset of core-central under higher magnification, this time toward the north. A pipestem of 3 10th magnitude stars oriented north-south is visible about 8 arc-minutes east in the same 50X field of view.

The evening's final galaxy, NGC3384, is such a close match in luminosity to the others that its hard to conceive of Messier Messier missing it. Especially in light of it's near proximity to #105. Perhaps Charles thought he was simply seeing double that evening? In any event, I am sure most amateurs would include this galaxy on their own private list of para-messier DSOs. With a roundish 3 arc-minutes visible, 3384 is obviously smaller than M105. Even so, I got a vague sense of northwest to southeast elongation. Inspection at 120X showed a slight eastern shift to the core vis a vis the visible portion of the galaxy. A bright 7th magnitude star leads NGC3384 across the sky.

It's hard not to draw comparisons amongst the four galaxies. In most ways they are very similar. None, for instance, display anyway near edge-on. In fact, it took a little effort to nail down directions of elongation. Galaxies M96 and 105 are comparable in brightness. 105 displayed the brightest core. M96, largest and brightest overall. Other than differences in size, the line of distinction between M95 and NGC3384 is pretty narrow. Again, NGC3384 deserves a double reference. Perhaps NGC3384 and M111...

NGC3079-Yes, NGC3073-Who Knows?

It was 9:00 PDST before the sky got truly dark this evening. So, less than one month after the Vernal Equinox, darktime delay has increased by about a half an hour. (This includes the shift to daylight savings time - a most unnecessary accretion to the calendar, I might add.)

Took a quick look at Jupiter. Seemed to be a lot of activity in the NEB, but low sky position, visible tube currents, and slightly poorer seeing made detailed observation difficult.

Swung Argo north to Castor. The split was less attractive than last evening. Headed north to intercept the Intergalactic Wanderer. Absorbed a few photons, then shifted to observe the two "pointer stars" that mark the Wanderers position. At 50X, and with moderate aversion, I was able to determine which of the two 8th magnitude stars was accompanied. 180X showed that the more westerly of the pair (away from the Wanderer) bore a companion. The secondary could be held directly at 180X, so I figure (on a 5.0 ULTM night like tonight) the secondary was no dimmer than magnitude 12.3. Also noted its position: 10 arc-seconds northeast of its primary.

The Wanderer doesn't seem to take well to magnification. 180X gave only occasional flashes of the brighter core. Using Argo, and on average transparency night such as this, best views are at 120X. But tonight I just dropped down to 50X. Again, knowing where to look, and what to look for I was able to just hold the Wanderer at that magnification. Meanwhile, moderate aversion showed the western pointer secondary. Since 50X has a limiting threshold of about 11.7 on a 5.0 evening - this makes sense.

My main hope for this evening was to track down the 10.6 magnitude, 2 by 8 arc-minute galaxy NGC3079 in Ursa Major. Based on these values, the average surface brightness of this galaxy is 13.3. This puts the galaxy close to the limit for backyard viewing through a six inch scope. If the galaxy was true to form, it's brightest 1 arc-minute section should glow at about magnitude 11.3. Achievable?

As a matter of fact, yes. NGC3079 is not extremely well positioned for navigation. But it can be gotten to. Start at Upsilon Ursae Majoris. Swing the tube 2 degrees east toward the dipper. Drop south referencing the finder about 4 degrees until you see a wide pair of 6th magnitude stars. Center on the one further to the south. Switch over to the main tube. Shift the 6th magnitude star due west about a quarter of the 1 degree sweeper field width. Then go south another two degrees. You'll know you are at the right place if you see a 15 arc-minute sized right triangle of 8th magnitude stars. Center on the triangle then shift about 10 arc-minutes due north. Look for a lengthwise flash in the eye as you do so. Then switch over to a slightly higher magnification (I used 70x).

With a small scope (such as 150mm Argo) averted vision (or a dark night) is needed to make out this angular, edge-on galaxy oriented along a north-south axis. Tonight Argo showed me about 1X4 arc-minutes of its nominal 2X8 arc-minute apparent size. - And I was pleased to see that. My best view of the galaxy also revealed distinct brightening at the core - but not of the "stellar" variety.

A second dimmer, smaller, galaxy (NGC3073) is reported to be nearby. Just southwest as a matter of documentation. NGC3073 bears a magnitude of 13.4. At that magnitude, and under 5.0 ULTM conditions, 180X could just reveal it under extreme averted vision. So I spent the next half hour, towel over head, scanning, scanning, scanning. Occasional flashes of light were seen. Some within 15 arc-minutes or so of NGC3079. One may very well have been the galaxy. But who can say? Without precise knowledge of the galaxies relationship to nearby asterisms the quest was perhaps doomed from the start. But NGC3073 is on my year-long observing plan.

Who knows? A darker night. More data on location. It still a possiblity!

The Inner Limits of Imaginosity

Due to a most pleasant supper engagement, I had a late start this evening. (Happy 18, Chris.) Realities of work in the morning made it necessary for me to bail on a very good backyard sky. But not before some small measure of accomplishment...

First the research:

"NGC3079 (Best 93) is the primary galaxy to view in this group of three. Indeed, below 8" will hardly stand a chance seeing more than one. They lie in western Ursa Major, 2.1°rees northeast of the mag. 4.6 Phi Ursae Majoris. Dreyer describes NGC3079 as very bright (mag. 10.6), large (7.5'x1'), and moderately elongated (Dreyer says the position angle is 135 °, others give 165°). Steve Coe reports glimpsing a dark lane with a 13". The other galaxies are the very faint NGC3073 (mag. 13.7, 1.3'x1.2', and 11' west of the southern tip of NGC3079) and the even fainter MCG9-17-9 (mag.14.8, 0.8'x0.3', and 7' west of the northern tip of NGC3079)."

Attribution: Hawaiian Astronomical Society Printable Object Descriptions

Then the description:

On arriving home after dinner, I immediately noticed how black the sky was. It was coal black , sumptuously black , infinitely black . Black is beautiful!

Without even stepping into the house, I immediately set up Argo. Took a quick look at Castor to get a sense of stability, then the double-star near the Intergalactic Wanderer (almost direct at 180X - but I had yet to fully dark adapt). Then tracked down the triangle asterism near NGC3079, and 3079 itself. (The view was similar to last night, north-south oriented streak of faint grey light maybe 1 X 4 arc-minutes in apparent size, some core brightening. All details requiring averted vision.)

Started my search for NGC3073 at 50X. Noticed several very faint "light mounds" at extreme aversion. None of which would stay put. (Mexican jumping galaxies, I think.) Obvious imaginosity to my way of thinking.

Also noticed a dim double star pair. Primary magnitude 12. Secondary magnitude 12.5. The primary could be held direct at 50X. Secondary with moderate aversion. Separation maybe 30 arc-seconds. Secondary north and slightly east of primary.

Switched to 70X - the perfect magnification for viewing NGC3079. Sky darkens, contrast improves, adds maybe .2 magnitudes to Argo's reach. Followed the line of the field double out about three times their separation in direction of dimmer star. Caught a faint glow at the limits. However, another Mexican Jumping Galaxy. No go. Imaginosity.

Bumped up to 120X. Decided to expand my search a bit further east. (The area pointed to by the double star pair was maybe 15 arc-minutes west of the southern tip of NGC3079.) At 120X I started to lose a little contrast with NGC3079 due to magnification dilution - even though I usually pick up a couple more tenths of reach over 70X. But now I started to catch something. Something besides imaginosity. It seemed to stay put. But still not good enough...

Bumped up to 180X. Added another couple of tenths to reach. But 3079 was nearly gone. (Same thing happens to the Wanderer at this power. You catch a faint star-like core but little else.) Now, however, I could just hold a small ill-defined glow of very dim luminosity. It stayed put!

But was it real?

Found an image on the internet after putting things away - and just before writing up this report. Copied the image to Paint. Flipped it around a few times. Got the image oriented the way Argo shows things. NGC3079 - obvious in the photo - but longer and thicker. The westernmost member of the star triangle to the galaxies south. And a little blip of an elongated 1 arc-minute galaxy.

My blip took a position due west of the visible southern tip of the brighter galaxy. Distance about 10 arc-minutes. It formed a flat triangle with the main galaxy - at one extreme of the base, the 8th magnitude field star was the apez, and NGC3073 the other base point.

What did the photgraph show? Well, first it showed the main galaxy. Then it showed the 8th mag field star. Then, the double star. And finally it showed NGC3073 right where I saw my extremely averted, fixed position, faint fuzzy.

Quite a coincidence, don't you think?

East of Regulus

By the time I got everything organized - the Pup, the observing stool, clipboard, scratch paper, red-filtered flashlight and pen, a huge patch of clouds rolled in. Aha! This was going to be an exercise in learning patience. About five minutes later things improved and I centered the finder on Regulus. The first sweep east was filled with doubt's and questionings. Would I be able to recognize a galaxy at such a low magnification? Was it clear enough out to give the Pup's 80mm's a fighting chance? Would Ajax (our Labrador animal buddy) manage to keep from knocking over the scope?

As it turned out my first pass at finding "the Galactic Group of Four" I expected to see went unfulfilled, so I reset on Regulus and made a second go of it. The second pass I came across a close pair of galactic smudges. But which were they? At 16x, my sense of scale was a little confused. So I checked my charts and confirmed that if, the Pup was properly aligned, and I went due east from Regulus, I should encounter the widely spaced Messier pair - and not the closely proximated Messier-NGC combo.

So, I reset a third time. Followed the line due west and came across a single, small patch of luminosity. It had a detectably starlike central core and a roundish halo of directly acquired nebulosity. But which galaxy had I found?

Sweeping the sky to the west, I came across a second, dimmer patch. Unlike, the previous find, it was difficult - but not impossible, to fix the central core with direct vision. Averted vision showed a slight north-south elongation, and a sense of dimming from the starlike core to space. The galaxy's core was perceptibly dimmer than a nearby 8.5 magnitude field star located 20 arc-minutes west and slightly north.

Returning east, it was clear the first-found galaxy was brighter, rounder, and larger than the second. The distance between the two galaxies was perhaps one degree with the easterly, brighter galaxy shifted slightly to the north. Two stars caught my eye near the easterly study. One, (roughly 10th magnitude), is perhaps 20 arc-minutes due north. This star could barely be held directly under the darkest sky conditions of the evening. The second, located about half a degree due east of magnitude 8.5, was easily held. The core of this brighter galaxy was intermediate between these two stars in magnitude.

I centered on the 8.5 magnitude star then swept the field to the north. This allowed me to pick up the pair I'd seen earlier in the evening. One member of this pair appeared almost as bright as the brighter of the two described above. This galaxy was also roundish, and had a bright central region, but displayed no obviously starlike core. It's central region however, was very bright and easily held with direct perception.

Trailing this bright, round galaxy, was a much dimmer, and perceptibly smaller, companion - perhaps 15 arc-minutes distant. The companion could not be held directly. It would simply dissolve into a swatch of ill-defined nebulosity. However, direct perception would hold it fixed in the field of view. Enhanced, averted vision, showed the patch to be roundish, with a hint of a luminosity gradient, smaller, and with no sense of frontier. Obviously the most difficult of the four galaxies - but still quite unmistakable in decent quality 80mm optics - even at 16X.

I resumed my sweep to the east. At 16X, three and one-half degrees of the sky are possible in the 16X field of view. Before three such fields had passed I caught a pair of bright elongated galaxies. Both members of this pair memorably brighter than any of the preceding four. Unlike the other four, these showed obvious elongation.

The westerly of the pair is oriented north-south. It's bright starlike core was quite obvious. The region enshrouding the core was also quite prominent. Nothing more than the core and it's luminous neighborhood was possible.

This was also true of the more easterly galaxy. However, that galaxy is entangled in the light of a bright 8th and less bright 9th magnitude sun. These stars reduced the contrast of the galaxy and made it more difficult to define its features. Despite this I could make out a northwest to southeast orientation of the core region - along with a bright central core.

While viewing the two messier galaxies, I also made a quick check north for a known edge-on NGC galaxy. No hint of it's presence was seen. This may be due to the fact that, at 16X, the sky - even when quite dark to the eye - is quite "bright" in the scope. However, it may also be due to the fact that a huge bank of clouds rolled in. This pretty much put an end to my evening "stroll between the Big Cat's Paws". Had the clouds not rolled in, I may very well have continued due east for my first look at the "Galaxy Field of Dreams" in Virgo. But such an adventure now awaits another night.

East of Denebola

Bing Crosby and Bob Hope had their "Road" series. Charles Kuralt had his "On the Road" series. The Pup has his road series too. It's called "East of". Tonight, due to last minute changes in weather (the incredibly blue and beautiful skies of the bulk of the day soured by evening), plan A did not come to fruition.

Plan A was the same Plan A of Thursday evening (with a twist). Get to China Ridge. Track down several "low declination" studies from that taskmaster of an observing list. Then travel out to the Santa Cruz Astronomy Club observing site for the evening's star party. Once again, due to weather, Plan B won out. Continue the "East of" series with the Pup, while "Dancing with Clouds".

Tonight's "East of" adventure started with a recap of galaxies explored at 16X on Thursday. This time at a whopping 44X magnification! Having achieved the big picture earlier, it's time to zoom in and reveal those "mystery studies" left undeclared during that last report. So, find that scribbled list of designations you came up with reading that last report and see how you scored. Ready?

M95: If you drop a 50X, one degree field eyepiece in your scope, center on Regulus, and proceed due west about 9 degrees, you will encounter a dim flash of luminosity. In a very small scope - such as the Pup - M95 is easliy missed. If missed, you will encounter a more obvious nebulous patch one degree further east. That patch (M96) triangulates evenly with a pair of 10th magnitude stars located to the northwest and east perhaps 15 arc-minutes distant. The galaxy you really want is back to the west. It forms a tight right triangle with a pair of brighter 9.5 magnitude stars separated from the galactic core about 5 arc-minutes. So, if like me, you miss the dimmer (13.2 magnitude average surface brightness) for the brighter (12.7) galaxy, head west toward Regulus for another pass. When I did turn up M95 at 44x in the 80mm Pup, it was a bit of a struggle to make out any detail. At best, the bright stellar core required some flitting about of the eye within the field of view. Even so, only about half the galaxy's full extent could be detected. Obviously contrast was very poor, other than the core, little detail was possible. M95 really needs a scope with three times the aperture to provide a satisfactory view.

M96: As noted, M96 is visibly brighter, and larger, than M95. Maybe 4 arc-minutes round can be made out using averted vision. Although roundish, the galaxy gives a sense of northwest to southeast orientation. Even under the marginal transparency of the evening, I could just hold the starlike core directly. Flitting the eye about the field seems to cause the core of M96 to shift slightly north. So there may be a bit of a galactic halo to the south.

M105: Although M105 can not be seen in the same 1 degree field as M96, the Pup's 16X 3.5 degree field easily included it. Both M105 - average surface brightness 12.2 - and its very close neighbor - NGC3384 (12.8) are seen at 16X even on a marginal night such as this. Tonight, at 44X, the Pup only reveals stars down to magnitude 9.9 directly. Add another magnitude (with use of extreme averted vision) and the Pup can show patches to magnitude 11. As it turns out, M105 has probably the brightest central core of the galaxies studied this evening. That core can be held directly - which means the core in and of itself is at least magnitude 9.9. In fact, about 2 arc-minutes of the region outside the core could also be held direct. So the central core is probably even brighter - certainly 9.5. During eye flits, the core did not shift, even though the apparent size of the galaxy easily doubled to maybe 4X4 arc-minutes. Now contrast this with the dimmer NGC3384 which trails M105 about 15 arc-minutes east and slightly north...

NGC3384: This galaxy's central core was just detectable at extreme aversion. So its brightest, starlike component is roughly of magnitude 11. Only about 1 arc-minute of the galaxy's extended core region could be detected - even at 44X. There was no visible sense of orientation, no frontier, and contrast was always poor with the background sky. In many ways NGC3384 is comparable to M95, while M105 and M96 are equally similar. None of these galaxies are as interesting in a three inch scope as the next pair...

M65: Centering the dimmer NGC3384 in the main tube, and sweeping another 8 degrees west reveals a more striking pair of galaxies. Unlike members of the previous group, both M65 (average surface brightness 12.7) and M66 (12.6) show more or less edge on. Since surface brightness of these two compare with M96 and M105, the question becomes: Why is this pairmore obvious? First, neither M65 or 66 have as bright a starlike core as M105. They "smear" their light out more evenly across the core region. Even more importantly, edge on presentation offers more delineated contrast to the background sky. Neither of these galaxies "bleed off" into space the way "round" galaxies do. They catch the eye and offer a more satisfying experience. M65 showed perhaps 2 X 6 arc-minutes of its published 3 X 10 arc-minute apparent size. Its cigar-shaped presentation oriented north-south. With extreme aversion, a slight "halo" could be seen surrounding core central. I noticed a 10.5 magnitude field star perhaps 5 arc-minutes due west.

M66: Like M65, M66 presents more or less edge-on. It orients northwest by southeast. A tight group of four 10 - 11 magnitude stars can be seen southwest of the galactic core. That core required slight aversion to detect. Under more extreme aversion, a halo can be seen extending slightly east. Like M65, the Pup shows maybe 2 X 6 arc-minutes of its 9X4 arc-minute apparent size.

NGC3628: This galaxy was undetected at 16X in the previous report. Under slightly darker - and more cloud-free - skies of this evening, I managed to just hold it with near extreme vision at the same magnification. Even this was only possible because I knew where to look. Unlike NGC3384, no one should ever criticize Monsieur Messier for missing this 13.6 average surface brightness galaxy. Tonight, under extreme aversion, I was just able to make out perhaps 1X10 arc-minutes of this spectre of a galaxy. It quite amazes me that so much of this very dim galaxy was possible. But again, like M65 & M66, NGC3628 manages to spread itself out well and presents edge on. Another nice feature is its location - about 45 arc-minutes north (and slightly east) of M66 between a widish pair of 10th magnitude field stars.

East of Denebola: Now, having detailed out views of galaxies East of Regulus, I am prepared to describe my adventures east of 2nd magnitude Denebola. First, I have to say that this adventure was cut off prematurely by a huge bank of clouds that overtook Boulder Creek from the northwest. It was just as these clouds moved in that I came across a galaxy comparable in brigtness to M's96, 105, 65 and 66. Before this I caught four others. At no time did I install the 9mm Plossel to improve the Pup's reach or to reveal any details. So all I can do is retrace my steps and tell you what little I did make out. As I do so, keep in mind that Virgo is "virgin" territory for me. So I really have little experience here.

I located Denebola by shifting 8 degrees east of M66. In so doing I noticed this bright 2nd magnitude star near the northern limb of the field of view. Shiting the main tube, I centered and began a sweep due east toward Virgo. Several attempts revealed nothing. The galaxy I was looking for bears an average surface brightness of 13.5. Offseting this very low average surface brightness is the fact that, like NGC3628, it presents edge-on. So referencing my charts, I centered on a fifth magnitude star then backtracked about half a degree to indirectly turn up a very dim cigar-shaped galaxy displaying maybe 1 X 5 arc-minutes of its published 3 X 10 arc-minute apparent size. Now one might think that this particular Messier galaxy should prove no easier for Monsieur Messier to discover than the aforementioned NGC, but in reality, it does a pretty good job of concentrating what little luminosity it has.

I then returned to the 5th magnitude star half a degree east. Swung maybe 1 degree southeast to a smallish, evenly- illumined football-shaped patch of light. That galaxy showed 2X4 arc-minutes of its published 5 arc-minute apparent size. Why it did not appear round mystifies me. Needless to say some follow up is needed here!

Next I swept 1.5 degrees northeast to the tail end of three bright stars angling off to the northeast. There I picked out a 4X6 arc-minute, slightly brighter, and certainly rounder galaxy which formed a largish right triangle with a pair of 9th magnitudes stars south and west. This was the first Virgoan that could be held directly and displayed a starlike core.

I then swept 2 degrees north to a 4th magnitude star and centered. From there I scanned one and a half degrees west and slightly north. This revealed a decently bright, easily caught (even at the extreme of the field) somewhat elongated galaxy.

It was then that the clouds really rolled in. And even as they swept over the sky, I could make out a sweet double-star (24 Comma Bernices magnitudes 5.3 - 6.6 separation 20 arc seconds). An unexpected, but pleasnt ending to an evening of galaxy quest. As much as I am enjoying Plan B, Plan A still remains on the top of my list. Hopefully the weather will cooperate and my next report will be hail out of China Ridge where Argo will go "full tilt" and show me some denizons of the deep south.

Long Hours, Hard Work, Decent Pay

Arrived on site at China Ridge well after sunset - but early enough to just catch Jupiter emerge visually to the southwest. Sky stability was, in a word, atrocious. This is the first time I've failed to see anything of detail on Jupiter's disc. In fact it had no disc - just a great big blurry blob. There was simply no magnifi