Reports for February, 2001
Little Trouble with Big Argo
Fun with the Pup
Hard Work with Argo
The Moon Bows Out
Another Evening with the Pup
Starry, Starry, Night
The Pup Pulls His Weight
The Plan
A (Long) Night Under the Stars
Against a Ribbon Sky
Intergalactic Wanderer Makes Tracks
"X" Marks the Spot
Sounds Like Something I Might Have Done
Finally Caught Up with the Season
Shower of Light!
Galaxies By Moonlight
Reports for April, 2001

Little Trouble with Big Argo

Lately, I've been less than satisfied with Argo's behaviour. I've just been missing too many deep fuzzies due to the fact that most stars display haze around them. Since many deep sky objects can't help but associate with line of sight stars, and these stars display haze, and haze looks like "nebulosity", and dim galaxies look like nebulosity, and nebulae look like nebulosity, I can never be sure that I've found what I've been looking for. Compounding all this is the fact that Argo tends to present images of deep fuzzies that lack definition and contrast. This lack of contrast between an object and it's background makes detection rather difficult. (No, I don't think 10th magnitude galaxies wear camouflage to avoid detection.) Finally I've noticed that stars outside the middle half of a one degree 35mm (50X) field of view lack focus. Now any one of these issues is a nuisance, all three... we'll as I've said, I'm less than satisfied with Argo's behaviour.

So tonight, after devoting a great deal of time breaking and fixing Argo over the last week or so, I'm ready to hit the sky running. All the eyepieces have been cleaned, along with the meniscus, the secondary and primary mirrors. In addition, after dissecting the secondary collimation mechanism, I've improved the design, extended my focal ratio and am now ready to finalize Argo's alignment. Whether any of the issues cited above are resolved based on these changes is immaterial. I felt the need to do something about the situation, did what I could, and am ready to move on...

First up: The Moon. Currently the Moon is close to full (actually visibly gibbous). During this phase ot its cycle, there's very lttle contrast between all the many features that populate its surface. However, one class of features (the rays) easily take the visual limelight. One ray system in particular tends to dominate the lunar surface. That system emanates from the crater Tycho.

Tycho's chalk-white basin is easily picked out -- even in Argo's 7x35mm finderscope. The ray system takes a little more effort -- but is still discernable. Of course, it's early (5:00 PST). The sky is quite bright and the moon just cleared the treeline to the east. But there it is, Tycho's long, straight tendrils reaching out to embrace almost a third of the visible portion of the globe.

The view through the main scope is disappointing. The bright blue of the sky, combined with the almost non-existant shadows on the lunar surface make it look like a huge, frosted light bulb. Meanwhile the lunar limb ripples with atmospheric distortion caused by heat rising in the distance. Despite these factors, at 70X, I see that Tycho sports a central dimple. In addition, I note that the ray system crowds so closely around Tycho's immediate perimeter that individual ray gradations are hard to make out. Two very obvious rays, arch out of the surrounding corona to the south and east. Switching to 180X, It becomes obvious that the east rim of Tycho is much brighter than the west. A dull shadow inscribes Tycho's western rim. The eastern limb is brilliantly lit with luminosity -- even brighter than the crater's floor. This lip is facing toward the rising lunar sun and seems to have a slope that efficiently couples reflected sunlight back into my squinting right eye.

It's now 5:30 PST. In a attempt to bring out more detail on Tycho, I try a number of filters. Of the darker filters (neutral density, OIII, green and red) red brings out the most detail. Of the lighter density filters (blue and yellow), yellow. Between the red and the yellow, I select the lighter color to make a stab at finer detail. Tycho's terrestrially interpreted leading edge (across the sky) appears somewhat broken. Parts of it are clearly higher in altitude than others. The more sunward lower elevations also show differences in slope. The trailing crescent is just too awash in light. It appears of uniform height. Within the crater, other than the central peak, I can only make out a slight darkening in surface brightness to the south. I also notice that the most obvious northeastern ray is joined by somewhat thinner and less luminous slim finger of light paralleling it off out of the 180X field of view.

Nearly 6:00 PST now. I'm going to see if I can find Jupiter in the darkening sky above me. I quickly turn it up in the finderscope and center it in the main tube. To my disappointment it displays the same kind of intra/extra focal limb glow shift I've seen when the scope is out of collimation. I spend the next forty-five minutes tweaking the alignment wingnuts on the secondary then tend to other matters.

It's now 7:30. My aim is to revisit Tycho. The sky is now awash with the Moon's radiance and remains quite unstable. Venus twinkles low in the west. Jupiter, nearer the zenith, scintillates subtly. With the scope now in fair collimation, Tychos central peak is much better defined. There is also a greater sense of detail on Tycho's floor.

I revisit Jupiter. Two equatorial bands, on an otherwise featureless disk that blurs out to limb. Now, however, as I shift through focus, the disk maintains it's position in the center of its defocus glow. There is no elongation...

A quick look at Saturn reveals a featureless disk. There is only one ring. Cassini is lost in the blur. The seeing is very poor for planets. I check for field flatness improvement. Little to none. Shifting the focus back has had no significant impact. Next go round at full collimation will include repositioning the primary so I can begin using the barlow again (in the 3X configuration). Time to move on to open clusters.

First a stop in the Hero's eastern arm. The hope is to turn up anything of open cluster NGC1513 (located between Mu and Lambda Persi). I find several small groups of a half dozen stars that one might think could be members of this cluster. Unfortunately, many of these stars are of the 9th and 10th magnitudes. The brightest stars in NGC1513 are magnitude 11.5. I find a group of dim stars located closer to Lambda than Mu. At 50X perhaps four stars are noted right on the limit of susceptibility. I install the 180X 10mm ep and clearly make out about eight stars shaped like a stylish "T". The base of the T lies to the south while the eastern arm tilts toward the same direction. There is no background haze to suggest more stars of lesser magnitude. But the moon is just too bright for such subtleties to reveal themselves. I am pleased. This is a difficult cluster - especially under the evening's conditions.

Despite the moon, I install the OIII filter on the 35mm ultrascopic and sweep the Pleiades for nebulosity. There it is. All over the place. Even some visible in locations where no stars are found. Very difficult to characterize exact locations. For you see, the entire system of stars is engulfed in it. And the brightest nebulosity is closest to the brightest stars where you can easily confuse it with star haze. However, even without the OIII filter nebulosity is hinted at. It gives you the sense that this region of space has "texture". Not well-defined, but a sort of rolling and receding like an island in the ocean surrounded by an almost impenetrable mist. In this case the mist is the darkness of space and the island's vague topology is the engulfing nebulosity.

It's now about 9:15. The sky has held reasonably well. High thin clouds can be seen drifting overhead. The last hour has been devoted to tracking down the three Messier open clusters in Auriga. Like NGC1513, these are all first finds for me. I was quite surprised by how small and relatively dim these clusters are - especially after having spent some time on M45 sweeping for nebulosity. Despite the dimness, and size, all three Auriganean Messier clusters are obviously groups of numerous, visible stars.

Of the three clusters, I found M37 most intriguing. Like the other's, M37 is quite small (less than 20 arc-minutes in apparent size.) It also had the largest number of visible stars (probably in excess of 100). In addition, M37 displayed voids and dark bands suggestive of intervening dark nebulosity. Visually, the cluster looks very much like a "bulls head". The bull's nose is positioned in the east while the two horns are found to the west tending north. A single 9+ magnitude blue white star "stood out" between the bulls eyes. Swarms of 10 - 12+ magnitude stars make up the head. The southern half of the head was broken up by a number of small dark regions. Further to the south was a single long dark band cutting off a small number of 11 and 12 magnitude outlying stars. The northern half of the bull's head didn't display anything like the zones seen to the south. These zones, along with the general shape of the bulls head and horns only became apparent to me at 180X. At 50X the group seemed "quasi-globular" with a fairly compact core for an open cluster.

The next cluster, M36, appeared quite "geometric" to my eye. In fact, it reminded me specifically of a Rubric cube shown in semi-profile. Perhaps 30 stars were visible. All stars were above the 9th magnitude. M36, and it's outliers took up most of the 17 arc-minute 180X field of view. After looking at the cube for a time I saw it take on a different presentation. A "stick figure" made up of about a dozen stars emerged. The figure occupied the center to west part of the cube. Overall the group was relatively open. No single star dominated the cluster.

On leaving M36, I decided to take a stab at detecting nebula NGC1931. To do this I shifted the cluster to the south about 20 arc-minutes, and with the 35mm / OIII filter combination in place slewed about a degree west. There, between two stars (oriented southwest to northeast separated by about 20 arc-minutes and of the 11th and 9th magnitude respectively) I made out a small (less than 5 arc-minute) "light-mound" through averted vision. I'll need to revisit this spot again on a dark moonless night for followup.

After locating M36, it was pretty straightforward to turn up M38. Simply slew 2 degrees west and 2 degrees north (or if you prefer 2 degrees north and 2 degrees west - amazing how that works). M38 immediate revealed itself as a 20 arc-minute long cruciform group of perhaps 75 or 80 stars. The base of the M38 cross lies to the north. At the juncture of the two arms a 10.5 magnitude blue-white star took up it's position. Strangely, while viewing the crux region at 50X, it seemed that there were several dozen 12th magnitude stars to be found under higher magnification. In fact when I switched over to the 10mm Ultrascopic, I was unable to see any such group. Despite this, I still have the sense that at least a dozen such stars will reveal themselves on a darker night.

It's now 10:00PST. I have two more targets for the evening. Fellow amateur Alistair Thompson asked me to take a look at open clusters NGC2251 and NGC2264 in Monoceros. Monoceros is just south of Gemini, so the moon will play a role in finding them. The region is also devoid of bright stars, so location could be a challenge even on a dark night. Finally, at this time of the evening and time of year Monoceros is sinking down into the west.

Spent about an hour scanning the region 8 degrees east of Mu Orionus. NGC2264 was an easy find. It is dominated by a fifth magnitude star (to its north). This singularly bright star is flanked by several v-shaped groups of stars - each like a flock of geese winging their way north (presumably for the summer). In total I could easy make out 2 to 3 dozen stars, magnitudes 9-11.

My quest for NGC2251 went unconfirmed. I found quite a number of star groups throughout this region. Most consisted of anywhere from 4 to 8 stars. Some displayed graceful arches. None gave me the sense that a large number of dim stars, hovered just outside the range of the scope and skies. In one swing I got as far out as NGC2244. 2244 was an obvious cluster. However it is located well outside the region containing NGC2251.

Soon my observing plan will send me into this neighborhood again. Under darker skies, Alistair's cluster may reveal itself.

Fun with the Pup

The sky in Scotts Valley appeared very promising when I headed home from work around 5:00 this evening. Even before arriving in Boulder Creek however, I could see the usual pattern of "good weather / bad weather" playing out. Boulder Creek is located in the mountains north of Santa Cruz, California and somewhat north and west of Scotts Valley (where I work). During winter, the town is a magnet for precipitation. And where there's rain, there's clouds.

This evening's broken sky gave little sign of clearing. I waited till 6:00 PM before making the decision not to drive Argo (a 150mm Maksutov-Cassegrain) to China Ridge. Last night I made that same trip on speculation - it didn't pan out. So on getting home, I left everything packed in anticipation of the next good night. At that time, I mentally committed myself to spend more time with the Pup (an 80mm Synta manufactured Orion B&T ShortTube Achromatic Refractor). This basically meant that I would do most of my backyard observing using the Pup while taking Argo to exotic locales (like China Ridge).

The fact that I'm just beginning to put the Pup through its paces means I get to be a little more intelligent about my observing plan. Argo's observing plan shows very little sign of real intelligence. It came together before I developed the mathematical algorithms needed to calculate whether or not a particular object can actually be "found" and "gainfully observed". Based on experiences with Argo, I developed programs used to bin DSO's by aperture. Although Argo can find objects optimized for scopes twice it's aperture, unless I already know how to find these objects, the attempt can be sheer torture. We'll come back to this later...

I started the evening by "star testing" the Pup. To do this requires a bright star (Sirius in this case), high magnification, and a relatively stable sky. At 400mm focal length, the best combination available to me is a 9mm Plossl conjoined with an Ultrascopic barlow in 3x configuration. This delivers about 130X. Pretty low for a star test. But enough to show that the Pup displays a multiplicity of perfectly concentric a-focal rings bearing an identical (but chromatically tinged) signiture inside and outside focus. Except for the chromatic aberration, the Pup effectively exceeds the optical quality of big brother Argo (1/6th wave rated 150mm MCT). Not bad for an OTA that costs less than 250 dollars Americain.

After completing the star test, I threaded an OIII filter into the 9mm Plossl and inspected Sirius. No doubt about it, the size of Sirius' spurious disk is significantly reduced by the filter. This suggests that star Sirius B could conceivably be revealed to the lucky user of an optically correct 8 inch scope with OIII filter on a clear and stable night. (I only saw Sirius B in my imagination using the Pup this evening. I'm sure if the Pup were in geo-stationary orbit it could make out Sirius B - but only without the OIII filter.)

Sadly, Orion is now rapidly leaving for points west. So to catch it before it's dissappearance, I quickly turned the Pup on the Hunter's sword and centered The Great Nebula in the 132X OIII field of view. Superb! Even with the sky visibly moonwashed, I was able to see tenuous folds and rifts. Surprisingly, the darkness cliff west of the Trapezium was directly detected. The Trapezium displayed all four main stars. To the north and east, nebula M43 was easily made out. Further north, the four star arch embedded in bright nebulae NGC 1973-5-7 was also visibly entangled. Above that, "Pi"-shaped cluster NGC1981 showed about a dozen 6 through 10th magnitude stars, a subtle hint of nebula enshrouded all its members.

Removing the OIII filter and migrating further north, Zeta Orionis was quite obviously elongated. At times I could just make out a "dirty-split" between it's 2.5 arc-second, 2nd and 6th magnitude components. (It's more distant 9.3 magnitude come near the limit of susceptibility). Installing the OIII filter in the 25mm (with 3x barlow ep - 44X), three faint regions of nebulosity, south, southeast, and west of Zeta were hinted at. The regions southeast and west were more or less circular, but still undefined "light mounds" while that to the south was long and linear. Not enough contrast to make out anything like a dark horsehead.

I continued my journey north (but east too) to M78. Here's where I first started to notice the big difference between Argo and the Pup. The Pup just doesn't have the reach. It was very hard to even find the stars making up "the Kingfisher" asterism I use to locate M78. Unlike nebulosity in Orion's Sword, that of M78 was not obvious. Unlike nebulosity near Zeta, M78 was at least verifiable.

Throughout this series, clouds rolled in from south and west. I would then have to break off observing for awhile. By the time I turned up M78, the clouds really spilled over and I carried the scope (one handedly at that) to a more advantageous backyard location. Even still, there was a wait until Saturn and Jupiter emerged from behind a bank of clouds. Using 132X, I made a quick check of Saturn. Not good. The 150mm gives a better view of the Encke Minima on a good night than the Pup gave of Cassini on this fair night. At least there was visible space between the planet and the rings - the south equatorial belt was missing and there was no sense of clarity and sharpness to Saturn's bearing. Jupiter fared little better, substituting the two equatorial belts for Saturns single ring. OK, so enough of the planets - they belong to Argo anyway.

The Moon was now about a third of the way up the sky to the southeast. I concentrated on a lowering Taurus and Auriga in the northwest. My first look was M45. The Pleiades are an example of the kind of deepsky object the Pup excels at. Lot's of bright stars spread over a 2 plus degree field, embroiled in low surface brightness nebulosity. Tonight, however, between the brilliant moon and Boulder Creek lightdome, there was no suggestion of nebulosity. The stars were bright, but backdropped by a deep blue - not indigo black - sky. One thing I did notice (something that is beyond Argo due to its narrower field of view) is the central position that 3rd magnitude Alcyone takes in the cluster.

With Argo, I'd never go near the Hyades. Even with the Pup it is not possible (even at 16x) to fit all its member stars into a single field. However, I was able to get a sense of how this brightly scattered cluster is arrayed. The center is dominated by a pair of almost matched 4th magnitude stars. East of this pair is an arrowhead comprised of six 5th and 6th magnitude stars. The point of the arrowhead faces even further east but slightly south of Aldebaran "the Hindmost". Under tonight's sky the Pup caught perhaps three dozen stars arrayed round about the arrowhead asterism.

Moving on, I made several passes at getting a decent look at M1 (the Crab Nebula). Basically the results were about the same as M78. Definitely present, but undefinable, and small mound of light. Increasing magnification to 132X did nothing to improve the view whatsoever.

Moving on, I hoped to get some comparo views of the Aurigaean clusters M36-38. These are all mid-sized cumulative 6th magnitude groups of stars competing against an excess of moonlight. I was able to find two of them relatively easily. M36 and M38 both revealed themselves as star clusters to this aperture - even under less than ideal conditions. M37 was another example of a "light mound" hovering on the border of susceptibility. Both the visible clusters showed about a dozen stars. Strangely (as compared to Wednesday when I turned Argo on this trio) there was no advantage to going to higher magnifications. (Argo practically doubled the star count going from 50X to 180X).

I finished up with a quick check of Castor. Easy, clean, beautiful split of two closely matched less than 3.0 magnitude stars separated by about 4 arc-seconds. No test whatsoever for this scope...

So now, the Pup has proved himself a worthy addition. It now joins Argo in the rotation. The Pup gets to stick around the house while Argo goes on the road. The Pup will also bear a lighter load of deepsky objects. I will make no appointments with objects beyond his reach. I'll stick pretty close to the 4 inch scope list. And if the Pup is real good, he'll get to go to public star parties and wow everyone with his unique ability to show great gulps of the starry expanse of the heavens all at once. Onward and upward!

Hard Work with Argo

Got out to the Ridge this evening while the southwestern sky still basked in the afterglow of a gorgeous, glorious but fading blue-sky. By 7:00 I turned Argo on Zeta Orionus for a quick check of the seeing. Took 180X to separate the brighter Zeta pair (2nd and 6th magnitude 2.5 arc-second). The more distant 9.3 magnitude come easy at all magnifications. Did a quick check of Iota Cassiopeia (now well off to the northwest.) Iota just barely showed a clean separation. 12th mag field star again barely perceptible direct at 180X. Given Iota's current position (maybe 45 degrees above the nearest horizon) this translates to a ULTM at Zenith of 5.0. Of course this held only until the Moon rose (around 8:15 or so).

Zeta is a much tougher split than Iota. A quick look at Jupiter and Saturn pretty much corroborated the seeing. Cassini division visible but certainly not razor sharp. First tier micro-details on Jupiter - SEB split, belt-edge irregularities, NTB. Did a quick field flatness test using Saturn using the 35mm (1 degree FOV) Ultrascopic ep. Pretty much right where it was when I first concerned myself with the problem - flat for the first 15 arc-minutes, refocusable for the next 10 and a combination of coma and astigmatism outside that. It's clear that repositioning the focal point had little - if any - affect on flatness. I expect it will come down to eyepieces or nothing. Not a big problem anyway - a distraction really.

Of greater importance is "sky haze". I'm sure that cleaning the optics helped. Picking more susceptible objects to track down would help even more. Might be good to do a bit more homework on object characteristics as well. Take, for instance, Aldebaran: Does it really have a magnitude 11 companion 30 or so arc-seconds distant? Maybe yes, maybe no. There is an 11th magnitude star - however, it is well nigh 2 arc-minutes distant. With all the light scatter thrown up by 1st magnitude Aldebaran, it is very difficult to say that Argo will ever be able to reveal an 11th mag secondary at 30 arc-seconds. (Especially during the winter when atmospheric moisture, high thin clouds, and cold temperatures all combine to exacerbate the light scatter problem.) Take another example, Galaxy NGC1300: Tonight I was able to get a pretty precise fix on a potential location. Found a triangle of faint stars (11th magnitude) about 2/3rds the distance between Tau4 Eridani and a wide finderscope pair of 6&7 magnitude stars almost 4 degrees due north. Such a triangle appears in photos of NGC1300 on the web. In addition, NGC1300's spiral core shows up quite small and bright in the same shots. So, right in the midst of this wide 30 arc-minute triangle of stars, I see what appears to be a bright star of about the 11th magnitude surrounded by you guessed it "star haze". Is this "haze" the dimmer part of the core and spiral arms of a whirling face-on galaxy? Can't say - but I think it was and that's where I'm going to leave it. A big maybe.

After tracking down NGC1300(?), I turned the scope on Alpha Lepori and inspected within 30 arc-seconds or so for a 12th magnitude companion. Alpha prime is itself magnitude 2.7 - about 4 times dimmer than Aldebaran. So you might think turning up a 12th magnitude secondary separated by 36 arc-seconds would be achievable. However, like real estate, things astronomical are effected by location, location, location. Alpha Lepori, like NGC1300, is found only about 30 degrees above the horizon (from these parts). As such, there is a loss of .5 magnitudes. So sure, Argo can show 12.5 magnitude stars - but not necessarily in the presence of - you guessed it - star haze.

Before proceding to my next target, we should probably review a few facts about NGC1300. 1300's visual magnitude is documented as 10.4. 1300's luminosity is spread over a 7 X 4 arc-minute region with probably half of that emanating from the one arc-minute region comprising it's core. This indicates a core of magnitude 11.2. Since the eye has no difficulty seeing 1 arc-minute sized objects as point sources of light (under low magnification), this suggests that, even with a local unaided threshold limiting magnitude of 4.5, Argo should have just revealed 1300's luminous core at 70X. With this background, we can now turn to NGC1931 in Auriga.

NGC1931 has been described in words such as follows: "surprisingly bright patch of nebulosity...". At 1931's center are a small group of stars with combined magnitude 11.5. 1931 extends over a region of about 3 arc-minutes circular. Unfortunately, it has no published magnitude (photographic or visual). A few evenings ago I believed I could just make out 1931 as a "light mound" located about one degree west of M36. Tonight I wanted to pin this one down, half expecting to experience the same kind of frustrations as those associated with the quest for 1300. As it turned out, I hadn't reckoned on 1931 having such a bright group of core stars. When I turned it up, I was confused. It looked more like a "Seyfert Galaxy", or large planetary nebula, or miniature globular cluster, than a reflecting nebula. The interesting thing is that, for all intents and purposes, 1931 could very easily have been 1300 or vice versa - except for one thing - I am absolutely sure about finding NGC1931 - but continue to harbor doubts about 1300. The difference lies in the immediacy, the presence, the definition, the contrast, of the image as seen through Argo. What a difference one half a unit of magnitude can make to an observation.

In searching for 1981, I first located M36, then through the finder noted a wide optical double pair west and slightly north in the same field. Half-splitting the difference between the two ends of the line, I switched over to the main scope. The scope had been pre-fitted with the 25mm and OIII filter. Now usually, the OIII filter can not show any stars above magnitude 10.0. However, when turned on 1931 it displayed both the nebulosity and the star-like core. For this to be possible 1931 has to basically be converting the starlight irradiated by its core stars into triply ionized oxygen which in turn throws off light in the forbidden bands to which an OIII filter is especially transmissive. I've already mentioned that my first impression of this nebula was one of great surprise at its brightness and star-like core. The next surprise I had came about when I removed the OIII filter. 1931 was even more readily seen without the filter as with it! A third surprise, 1931 takes magnification very well. Much in the same way as a planetary nebula. I heartily recommend this object and hope to revisit it under darker skies - and with a more experienced eye to determine if I can begin to make out more details as to its frontier, resolution of any of it's core stars and distribution of surface luminosity. This is definitely an object for an optically correct six inch scope!

Previous to viewing 1931, I had actually taken a good deal of time looking over the region around Zeta Orionus. The goal was to determine what, if any, reflecting and dark nebulosity could be made out within it's one degree field of view. So with clock drive engaged and OIII filter threaded into the 35mm Ultrascopic, I repeatedly toured the field of view looking for anything nebular. Here was another instance of nothing definitive coming out of almost an hour of painstaking attention to (non-existent) detail. Yes, there may have been a hint of absorption/reflection nebulosity streaming off to Zeta's south. And yes I could see that a certain amount of texture was present throughout the field, and most certainly every star in the field looked like it was nebulously entangled. And yes, I can make no claims of having seen the likes of NGC2023, 2024, IC434 or dark nebula B33 (the Horsehead).

So I moved on to the region south of 3.5 magnitude Xi Geminorium. Where I confirmed that earlier this month I had located and described NGC2264 "The Christmas Tree Cluster". On this occasion I confirmed that, from one angle, it does look like a Christmas tree - or should I say - like the location of the lights on a poorly dressed up Christmas Tree.

Using 2264 as a base of observation, I swept to the north and west, where briefly I found, then lost due to the headlights of a passing car, a small group of about half-dozen unclusterlike stars which might have been 11th magnitude open cluster NGC2259. Size was about 8X5 arc-minutes with a hint of a "light-mound". Didn't have the chance to determine the orientation of the group.

Again returning to 2264, I headed south and west and turned up a group of a dozen 10 - 12 magnitude stars shaped somewhat like the constellation Cassiopeia. The apparent size of this group was maybe 10 X 5 arc-minutes, oriented roughly east-west with the legs of Cassiopeia's chair to the west. I suspect that this may have been NGC2236, an 8.5 magnitude open cluster. Based on what I saw, I definitely consider it an "open cluster". Keep in mind that by the time I began my tour of Monoceros, a hugely gibbous moon was well above the horizon and complicated my figuring out just where the scope was pointed at at any given time. However, I did continously return to the Christmas Tree Cluster to get my bearings. As stated, it was my base of operations.

On my next excursion south I came across a sweet little "rounded M" shaped cluster of more than a dozen 9+ magnitude stars oriented north-south. (The rounded sections of the "M" lay to the east.) The size of this cluster was again maybe 10 X 5 arc-minutes. The brightest component took a position at the end of the middle leg of the "M". In keeping with previous speculation, and based on the brightness of the main stars, this may very well have been the 7.3 magnitude Open Cluster NGC2251.

With time getting on I decided to have a look at 4.8 magnitude Open Cluster NGC2244, and if possible the intertwining Rosette Nebula -- NGC2237. To find it I dropped down to 13 Monoceros, centered it in the main tube then continued my sweep due south. In so doing I came across a beautiful, large, reasonably bright, open cluster that displayed some rather interesting characteristics. First noticed, was the obvious presence of somewhat less than a dozen 7 & 8 magnitude stars arrayed in two parallel (but squiggly) rows oriented north-south extending over a region perhaps 15 by 5 arc-minutes in apparent size. Then, lurking behind this brighter group was what looked like several hundred 12 plus magnitude stars dotting the entire field of view. On switching to 120X, many of these stars resolved but certainly not all. Fixing the OIII filter to the 25mm eyepiece revealed that, quite possibly, a great deal of what I thought to be unresolved stars was actually reflection nebulosity of a curiously mottled variety. Yes, I was seeing the variagated surface brightness of the Rosette Nebula. Something I will want to see again - particularly on a dark, clear, moonless night...

The Moon Bows Out

Arrived at the Ridge. Had the scope setup just as Jupiter became visible overhead. Despite the relative brightness of the sky at the time, I was very pleased with the amount of fine detail seen at 180X. All the macro-features were present. First level micro-features were also quite easy (SEB split, and irregularities on belt edges). Beyond this, I could make out some of the subtler micro-features (festoons within the NEB, dove's footprints and a part of the gossamer thin belt within the equatorial band). Strangely, a quick check of Saturn did not confirm that the sky was exceptionally stable. Cassini was not razor sharp - though it was very nice. Turned the scope on Zeta Orionus to make a comparison. Obviously elongated -- with a hint of separation, but not even a true "dirty" split. Installed the OIII filter. THis enabled me to make out some space between the two. (The filter is a real boon when viewing two close, but relatively bright double star components.)

Later, once the sky really darkened up, I inspected Aldebaran. Although I was able to directly acquire the 11.3 magnitude 108 arc-second come, there was no suggestion of a 32 arc-second secondary. Made the same type inspection of Alpha Lepori. Thought I caught a hint of it's 12th mag secondary - but nothing conclusive. Again, despite the stability and the extraordinarily dark sky (6.0 at the Zenith), there was still too much light scatter.

As soon as it got dark I resumed the hunt for my "lost sheep" - NGC1300. Made a careful inspection of the region 2 plus degrees north of Tau4 Eridani. No confidence. The sky is just too bright to the southwest, and by the time the sky in general gets dark enough, the area sinks too close to the horizon. I'm afraid, I'll have to abandon this one to next season (and add it to my "most wanted" list.)

Before searching for 1300 (before the sky was really dark) I had a look around M78. Old' 78 itself is an easy find. Nice "thumbprint" of nebulosity engulfing a pair of 10/11 magnitude stars. The stars are separated by about 5 arc-minutes and orient along a north-south axis. Nebulosity appears about 5 arc-minutes wide and 7 arc-minutes long (along this same axis). The clearest frontier of the nebula is to the north. Averted vision allows the southern part to "flare out". This expands the nebula's length to about 10 arc-minutes. M78 is a fine object for a six inch scope.

About 25 arc-minutes north and slightly east of M78 is a second, brighter pair of stars. This pair is separated by roughly 8 arc-minutes and orient southeast to northwest. At magnitude 9, both stars display a measure of "star haze". However, the northeastern star shows more haze than its confrere. This becomes even more obvious while averting the vision. The generally circular shape of the nebulosity (NGC2071) is then confirmed. It displays an apparent size of perhaps 3 arc-minutes.

Triangulating with M78 and NGC2071, (to the east) I thought I could detect a diffuse mound of luminosity. This does not correspond to the location of any object I am aware of and will require some research to confirm.

It was about this time that I revisited the region of NGC1300. After about forty minutes of checking and cross-checking, I looked up to see the entire constellation of Orion engulfed in a haze of dim 6th magnitude stars. On a whim, I chose to revisit the Zeta Orionis region. I expected nothing. Previously I had completely scoured this region. All I could make out was a vague texturing of the sky. Such attempts had often been confounded by the moon. (Which always seems to be out when the weather clears up around here.) On this particular night, and early hour, the Moon had yet to rise. Add to this the extarordinary clarity of the atmosphere on this particular night and conditions were promising. But, once again, I held no illusions...

Extraordinary! Incredible! Magnificent! Unbelievable! What else can be said? Even with the bright 2nd magnitude star Alnitak, in the field of view, I could unmistakably, and without any effort whatsoever. see the tripartite nebulosity NGC2024. About 15 arc-minutes east of Zeta, a large 20 arc-minute nebular glow caught my eye. What was most unmistakable about it was the fact that it was broken into two sections by a wide dark bar running northeast/southwest. The brighter section of the divided nebula appeared milky white and showed definite sign of contrasting surface brightness. The dimmer section (closer to Alnitek) more diaphanous but still quite obvious. A third section, also obvious, was seen to the southeast. This section was itself cut off from its associates by a dark bar south of, and running away from, Alnitek.

NOTE: I've found no published visual magnitude of any kind for NGC2024. Based on a number of parameters and assumptions, it is likely to have a cumulative visual magnitude of 6.5. As such, any good 8 inch scope should show this object when the limiting threshold magnitude overhead is 6.0.

Inspection of the rest of the field around Alnitek showed additional regions of light and dark. But I left these unexamined in detail. (Choosing, as it were, to leave such mysteries to another night and time. Thankful for the good fortune to have made out NGC2024 in all its glory.)

The sky to the east was, by this time, definitely brightening. Still behind on my observing plan, I made a quick check of Alpha Lepori, caught only a fleeting glimpse (if any) of its 12th magnitude secondary, rechecked Aldebaran - hopeless, inspected the Pleiades - nebulosity everywhere and nowhere - then proceded north to Perseus and (later) Camelopardis.

First stop: NGC1629 11.9 magnitude 2 arc-minute sized bright nebula in Perseus. To find it I centered the finderscope on Alpha Perseus then swung the scope about 10 degrees due east to Lambda Persi. From there I simply extended the line through open cluster NGC1545 by about the same distance between the two and looked in the main tube. A few short sweeps turned up a tight group of 3 12+ magnitude stars steeped in faint nebulosity. The nebulosity gave a slight suggestion of east-west elongation that extended about 3 arc-minutes. A happy find given it's dimness and the presence of stars at it's core.

Returning to Lambda, I decided that I was not prepared for an extended star-hopping experience in such a dim region of the sky as Camelopardis. So I did the expedient thing, and simply used my setting circles to shift 12 degrees due north. This, in itself should have centered open cluster NGC1502 in the field, but the scope was not precisely aligned to the pole and I was forced to implement a lissoujoue search pattern to turn up the cluster.

1502 is a fairly compact magnitude 5.8 cluster consisting of about a dozen (visible) 8th and dimmer magnitude stars. Two eight magnitude stars (separated by about 30 arc-seconds) dominate the center of the cluster. Several other stars form a tight V which includes this brighter pair. The tip of the cluster's V points to the southeast. Several other 10th magnitude outliers are also apparent. At 120X another dozen 12.5 + magnitude stars become visible. The group is perhaps 10 arc-minutes in diameter. It's published integrated magnitude seems a little bright to me. It is possible that I found a cluster other than 1502, but what I found is an obvious cluster. More research is probably needed here.

NOTE: I have since confirmed 1502. That 1501 turned up in the expected location also reinforces the fact - as follows:

The final object of the night was a very dim planetary nebula of magnitude 13.3. Surprise! I was actually able to locate this thing. To find, I simply shifted the scope 2 degrees south of 1502. (1502 was found first based on a belief that it would be an easier find than 1501.) Despite its dimness, 1501 reveals itself as an obvious planetary but only to averted vision at 50X. Adding an OIII filter to the 35mm rendered it directly susceptible to the eye. While increasing magnification to 120X displayed the planetary directly with and without the filter. There was no advantage to going to 180X. The best view was at 120X with the OIII filter which intmated that the planetary is truly annular. No central star was present however.

NOTE: Research on NGC1501's brightness shows values ranging from 11.5 to 13.2. That it was detected with slightly averted sight at 50X, under the above conditions, combined with it's published angular size, indicates that it's actual visual magnitude is probably very close to 12.5.

By this time the Moon had definitely illumined the sky to the east. The velvety blackness of the sky I had come to appreciate above me began to wash out. What was my first 6.0 ULTM night at China Ridge was now over. Above average atmospheric stability and unusually piquant transparency, combined with the absence of the Moon, had created extraordinary conditions for viewing both planetary and deepsky wonders. Everything has it's time and place. If there are lessons in the art and practice of amateur astronomy, then foremost among them is the cultivation of a quiet acceptance of the cycles and seasons that govern it's possibilities.

Another Evening with the Pup

There are limits. Yesterday I hit one. The sky was impossibly transparent, dry and even reasonably still concurrently. The moon had vacated the evening sky. A subtle, extended nebula I'd been seeking for several months suddenly materialized before my amazed perception. Extremely dim planetary nebulae in foreign regions of the sky were detectable even at low magnifications. The rush was necessarily going to catch up with me. So despite continued excellent skies, I took the evening off from serious observing and "loafed" with the Pup. Even so, I did cover two new finds from my observing plan - M35 in Gemini and NGC1499 in Perseus.

I keep hoping that the key to the planets will reveal itself to the Pup. With such fine optics it should be able to reveal at least the macro features on Jupiter along with Saturn's Cassini's Division and equatorial belt. Well, this evening a start was made. Cassini was detectable - if only after diligent, patient waiting. And the equatorial band was more or less steadily acquired. But to be honest, it really surprises me that such a modestly apertured scope can be so adversely impacted by the seeing. But nevertheless this appears to be so. The Pup likes things to settle down before he will show you much of the planets. And tonight things were better...

Jupiter was another matter. Again, the Pup revealed nothing more than the two equatorial belts - and this without elaboration. No NTB. Certainly no STB. Sure Jupiter appears obviously oblate, and the polar regions darken perceptibly to their respective poles. But that's it. Maybe one day the Pup will grow up and act like a true refractor. Until then, I expect that Argo will continue to offer up its extremely tantalizingly blend of almost but not quite amazing planetary detail.

A few days ago the Moon was trying to play Sun with the night sky, At that time I attempted to turn up both M1 and M78 with the Pup. At best, I caught a pair of diffuse, and unconfirmable "light mounds". Tonight, under the dark skies of the evening, both these fine nebulae were easy to find at 16x and quite susceptible to detailed examination at 44X. Of the two, M1 gave the better view. M1's core was definitely brighter than its frontier. There was also an indefinable sense of "dssolution" at the limits. Frankly I don't remember it looking quite this well-defined in Argo - but it's likely that my skills as an observer have improved since I last viewed it. Certainly I've had to track down objects far closer to the limit of susecptibility. This can't help but improve the eye.

In Orion, the larger M78 and the more subtle NGC2071 were both obvious nebulosities. M78 had the typical "flaring" tendency under averted vision that I'd seen in Argo last night. However, it's northern edge was not quite so well defined. Argo did a fine job of distinguishing NGC2071 to the eye. Both Argo and the Pup suffer from atmospheric "star haze", but I get a sense that the Pup does a slightly better job of informing the eye when it comes across any nebulosity within its reach.

Tonight was dark enough to make a serious run on NGC1499 - the California Nebula. I'd like to say the view was so obvious that I could actually make out the Monterey Bay Area - now said, it just isn't true. 1499 is very large and probably has a cumulative magnitude comparable to M1 and M78 - objects less than 1/100 it's surface area. It is an extremely tough catch for any telescope which lacks the chemistry or CCD memory needed to accumulate photons. (If only the eye had such a capacity!) Despite this, the Pup did rather well. All I had to do was: 1. Install the OIII filter in the 25mm Ultrascopic eyepiece. 2. Place an eyepatch over my left eye so I could leave it open comfortably. 3. Drape a towel over my head to block stray light from the street and neighborhood lighting. 4. Insert the 25mm with OIII filter into the star diagonal. 5. Orient the 16X, 3 degree field of the scope on Xi Persei. 6. Settle in on an observing chair and allow myself to completely relax. After a while, this was followed by 7. A subtle sheen of light centered about 1 degree north and less than half a degree east of Xi. The sheen was perhaps 15 arc minutes in diameter and trailed off into a rather large rectangular region of "grayscale" against a more or less velvety black sky. The grayscale itself was occasionally bisected by dark sky given a divided appearance. The whole thing oriented north-northwest by south-southeast. It was impossible to see anything like this without the OIII filter, so along with the eye patch, the rich-field scope, the towel, and a dark night, you also have to spring the $100 for the filter to get the view. Better yet, go on the web and enjoy the astrophotos posted by various amateurs.

NOTE: NGC1499 has no published visual magnitude. Based on this one observation -- and a host of other assumptions, I believe it to have a cumulative visual magnitude of 5.5. As bright as that sounds, its 140X40 arc-minute apparent size makes it almost impossible of visual detection by anything other than a high quality / low power rich field telescope (such as the Pup). And this only on a 5.5+ ULTM night. One final thought, it is entirely conceivable that some keen-eyed observer, on an extraordinarily dark and clear night, will just come to notice the faint sheen of NGC14999 near Xi Persi with the human eye alone.

Before viewing the California Nebula, I looked up one other first-find object - M35 in Gemini. M35 is very large - in fact it appeared much larger than the half-degree assigned to it by those in the know. It's likely that many of the stars surrounding it are line of sight. It looked rather like a "three in one" kind of object. First there was a number of distant outlying stars - most within 45 arc-minutes of what should have been the clusters core. Then there was a "smaller" 45 arc-minute sized region that gave the vague impression of a spinning top or a tudor rose. Finally within this region and offset to the east, was a small group of very dim stars arrayed over perhaps fifteen arc-minutes of space. In all I could see perhaps fifty 7 to 10 magnitude stars at 44X. The "cluster within cluster" region contained about a dozen 10th and 11th magnitude stars.

The clear dark skies over the last few nights have reinforced the notion that seeing conditions are perhaps the most important determinant of the quality of the observing experience. Several nights ago, the Pup's three inches of aperture were pitifully inadequate to the task of definitively locating two celestial objects discovered by a Frenchman with a twenty-five foot long, similarly-apertured, poorly figured, refractor telescope two centuries ago. Tonight, under very good conditions, these same objects could be plucked out of the night sky at the lowest possible magnification and yielded up distinct hints of shape and surface morphology at a mere 44X. Such nights as this (and the last) may not be counted on. If they could, it is likely that we mortal's would simply take them for granted. Since they are rare, and despite my weariness, I just had to get out and make an honest effort at enjoying them.

Starry, Starry, Night

It must have been a night like this night. Remember thou the touch of God upon thy forehead? Recall ye the Hand of Divinity descended upon you, pro-offering a gentle benediction upon your minds eye? Remember thou the clear, cool fingers pulsating with livingness? Recall ye how you rushed out to take brush and swooped those great looping eddies of light upon the indigo deep canvass? Remember?

Well, my old friend your painting has come true! The stars are great living wheels of luminosity. Their light and the vital pneuma of our living ocean of air has conjoined to make your vision a reality. For on this evening, I stood solitary with my instrument and beheld your stars in my eyes. But not unassisted. For in these modern times, even humble astronomers such as I, may make the gain of spectacular instruments available only to the few, and elect in your own time. Yes even I, a humble chattlehouse worker in bits and bytes by day, can leave off the mundane pursuit of mammon and enter into realms only you and few others in your own time could possibly envision.

For tonight, I have travelled the lesser known ways of the Hunter who stalks the night sky. I have seen the subtle background glow of hundreds of stars compacted into the space of a single moon. I have looked deep, very deep, into lights thrown forth in the time of Thy Lord. I have looked upon distant clouds, and communities of great suns more luminous in their own spheres than our own.

In the great books of the Astronomers I have looked upon one named "NGC2169". 2169, (I ask pardon for calling him by his number) is set near the stars Xi and Nu in the Hunters great right arm. In my instrument, and on this magnificent night, I could descry mayhap a dozen suns - each to its own group. One such group (to the east-southeast) appeared as a reversed numeral seven. The other (to the west-northwest) appeared a crooked one, (or - if other dimmer stars be allowed - a letter "Y"). In looking upon 2169 more closely - using the 120 times implement - very few other stars could be conjoined to 2169's compliment. However, 2169 swelled to fill one-forth of my perception and gave off a brilliance like unto the lamps that hang in Hyde Park seen at once and all together.

Later I swung my instrument upon a another, even more subtle community of suns. Suns even more distant in time and space. This group, known among the Astronomers as 2194, appeared only as a luminous sprinkling within the 50 times implement. It was also exceedingly small - perhaps one tenth my perception. But outside it's own frontier, it was accompanied by a vast horde of faint stars with nary a bright sun anywhere to be seen. Truly a humble but magnificent chorus of lights! With a steadier gaze, and one moved off to the side, I began to see, resolved in the scintillating haze of 2194, several distinct suns of the very dimmest magnitude. Truly among the Astronomers as dim as the 13th division. For you see on this magnificent night, the shackles fell off my yes and instrument and I could peer exceedingly deep. Yet with my 120 times implement, the deep became deeper. And in that depth I saw perhaps a half-dozen suns. But yet even still I could not regard any single sun directly for in so doing he would excuse himself from sight while another nearby would take his place. Truly Magical!

But this is not the end of it. For you see, within the same 120 times perception and to the south, I could see unmistakable sign of an even more distant community. This too amazed my perception. Sadly though, I am at a loss for his number. Why, perhaps he has none!

To the east of the Hunter lies a River. This River seems to lap against the Hunter's boot. Four lunar disks north of the second brightest of the River's suns is an exceedingly dim elongated cloud of light. This dim light extends north to south in the presence of two widely separated stars of the 10th division of luminosity. Several other such pairs can be seen nearby. Each pair directed toward the River's second brightest and each separated by a tenth of my fifty times perception. But of the three sets of stars, one to the east, one to the west, and one between, only the one between reveals its cloudlike nature. This being true though the other pairs seem to mimic him. For you see, tonight our great pneuma, the ocean of air above us, and despite great transparency, held much of the "sea" within him. And this great sea in the air caused everything to "glow" with a diaphanous light. A light deceptive, much like that seen in your painting. Great circular patches of light everywhere. Even around suns of the tenth division. And it is only because I could see through my filtered perception, and undirected gaze, that the middle pair held a special light that I was able to wax confident in its detection. The number given this apparition among the Astronomers is 1788. By this number he can be made known among those who walk the Lighted Way.

Earlier still than much of this, I turned my assisted eye upon a part of the Hunter in which resides one very faint cloud of light very near a much brighter one. Even though I had peered here numerous times before, I had yet to see him. His number is 2067. His place is very near another number, from an older book of the astronomers. By number "78". By letter "M". Very close to 78 and to its north and west lies an almost imperceptibly swatch of light. This swatch possessed perhaps one tenth of my 120 times perception. In that perception I could see an exceedingly faint star of the thirteenth division. From that star the cloud seemed to reach forth toward his larger, brighter neighbor - but they did not touch. No, not at all, for the chasm was too great, yet still very close.

Trailing the Hunter across the sky and above his right shoulder follows a Unicorn. This Unicorn, like the large Dog beneath him, is most intent on the Hunter. The Hunter aims arrow at a Bull and must loose it across our River. This Unicorn is most stealthy. She makes herself exceedingly well hidden. But above the Unicorn settles the right foot of a twin. Beneath that foot lies a strange community of suns which makes itself look like a tree bearing a string of lights. Beneath this tree and toward the hunter, is another small patch of light. But this patch is much brighter than 2067. It too has a number - 2261. Unlike 2067, he is bright at the center. Like 2067 he extends himself. His direction is to the north. I looked upon him with my 120 times perception. This is where I saw his extension. I looked upon him with my filtered 120 times perception - he was not to be seen.

Very early in the evening, as the sky darkened I looked upon two worlds much closer to our own. One of these worlds bears a ring and a belt. Both the belt and the ring were clearly seen yeh even the dark void within the ring was clear to my 180 times perception. This sight gave me a great confidence, so I turned my 180 times sight upon a world which has no visible ring but is much greater in breadth and height. This world revealed very little of himself. He showed me two great belts about his waist but no more. I was sorely vexed. One world gave and the other took away. How is this possible? As I studied the stars, and saw the great light that they threw off all about them. (Which, of course, reminded me of your painting) I understood. The light doth scatter much and in so scattering veils. Thus a great mystery revealed itself. (Something I had alsways suspected, but until tonight could not fully comprehend.)

So now Vincent I must bring end to my chatter. Your painting is far more eloquent than my words. It says so much and yet narry a sound is uttered. But even your painting pales against a night such as this. A night when the stars fill the sky with great depth and texture. A night when the Soul of Man rejoices in the contemplation of the Great Handiwork of Cosmos.

Your Friend and Admirer,

Jefferson Thomas Barbour

The Pup Pulls His Weight

Some evenings it's not always possible to pack up Argo and venture to exotic locales (like Boulder Creek Elementary School). On such evenings, when I time-share with other duties (like putting on my superperson costume and saving the world), I still like to take out a scope and "poke around". Since adding the Pup to the toolkit, I find it even easier to squeeze in a few moments of observation between other activities. Such was the case this evening...

Though tonight was "unscheduled uptime", I still felt the need to catch up on my observation plan. Despite the fact that good progress has been made since the weather broke last week, I'm still behind by two weeks. "Two weeks" you say, "Ah that's nothing. I've got DSO's on my list from two years ago I still haven't turned up!" Well such may be the case, but I'm kind of sensitive about this sort of thing. You see, I'm a big believer in the idea of tackling no more than you can and doing whatever is possible to see it through - in a more or less timely fashion. This quaint idea is my own failing, and I have no intent of foisting it on my fellow astronomers.

So tonight I reviewed the "100mm and under" lists from Deepsky Objects by Optimal Aperture and found a few gems to uncover I had yet to find with Argo. During a previous session, I had also penciled in the Pup for a look at the Rosette Nebula around NGC2244. At that time, it was obvious that the Rosette was visible in Argo. However, it spilled so far out of the 50X field of view that I could make no contextual sense of it. (You see there are five senses plus the contextual sense, and I really depend on my contextual sense!) Finally I thought it might be fun to try and hunt down something really difficult, so I added nebula NGC2316 to the shortlist just for giggles. (2316 lies very close to open cluster M50 in Monoceros.)

The evening started with a quick check of the planets. Again, like a previous outing with the Pup: Two belts on Jupiter. Cassini on the margin, Titan, but no equatorial belt on Saturn.

NGC2244 is an easy find just south of 5th magnitude 13 Monoceri. At 16X, the easily recognized "irregular rectangle" of bright 7th magnitude members leaped to eye. A star count showed slightly more than a dozen 7th to 10th magnitude stars. Most of these near the 6 star rectangle that is 2244's most distinctive feature. (A few outliers were also visible to the northeast and southwest.)

Rosette was coy and remained out of sight. The background sky, though reasonably dark to the eye (regional limiting magnitude 4.5+), appeared characteristically deep-blue in the 3 degree field. I installed the 25mm Ultrascopic with OIII filter in tactical response. The sky responded by taking on a rich indigo-black matt finish. Rosette slowly made her entrance - and what an "entrancing" beauty she is! Subtle too! I had to play the old swami trick with a towel, whilst comfortably settling in on an observing stool before her diaphanous details would emerge.

Rosette shows three main "lobes" of luminosity. The brightest and largest lies north of 2244. In fact, the narrow end of 2244's rectangle points directly toward the brightest point of the northern lobe. Two other lobes were also visible. These were inferior to the northern lobe in luminosity and size. Rosette extends well over one degree of the sky. North lobe makes up about a third of this expanse. The others extend out about as far, but begin more than half-way out from the center of the cluster. Initially, I thought the lobe to the west-southwest was brighter and larger than that of the east. Later, I wasn't as sure. In switching to 44X, I found that I could discern nebulosity with and without the OIII filter. The number of stars visible in 2244 doubled from that seen using the 25mm 16X Plossl (no OII filter). I also noticed a large triangular shaped region of more than a dozen stars pointing at the rectangle from the west. (The rectangle appears to balance on this triangle.) The most interesting thing about the 44X view was the fact that very little of the Rosette is susceptible to the eye near the rectangle. This makes it quite easy to detect the Rosette whenever visible since all you do is view the rectangular region, get a sense of how dark it is, then sweep to the north and look for any grayscaling of the sky in that direction. The contrast is immediate and unmistakable. Why even the Pup could show it! And in thinking back, Argo showed it too.

M41, just south of Sirius was next on the evening's list. I had observed M41 late last autumn through Argo. (At that time I could make out several hundred stars within the 50X 1 degree field.) The cluster easily caught my attention in the 16X Plossl. The central region is significantly larger than the rectangular region of 2244. This appears as an oblate sphere oriented northwest to southeast. It takes up about 1/10th of the 16X field. Perhaps 3 dozen stars were detectable ranging from the 7th to 9th magnitude. Another two dozen stars could be seen outside the core. These arrayed themselves to the northwest, southeast and southwest. The northwest and southwest groups extended out like scarab legs from the body of the cluster and trailed back to the rear (northeast). The southwestern group extended straight ahead and more or less guided the group across the sky to the west. In fact the cluster looks like some ancient glyph written across the sky, (perhaps signifying some deeply esoteric experience of the mysteries of life and death). Needless to say I missed all this when observing the cluster through Argo. At that time all I could think of was "My God, its full of stars!". At 44X, the central part of the cluster becomes almost "globular". Several great arcs of stars could be seen swinging around in a counterclockwise direction. (CCW in the Pup anyway.) The number of stars doubled at 44x, as once again increaed magnification bled luminosity out of the sky and dimmer 10 - 1).5 magnitude stars showed themselves. At 16X, a pair of stars at the center of the cluster seemed to claim the view. At 44X, these stars lost focus and the sense of depth implied by the great arcs became far more salient to the eye and imagination.

M50 in Monoceros, north and east of Sirius is the perfect object for an 80mm scope. It can just be detected as a swatch of light in the 6x26 finderscope. Turning to the main tube at 16X, a small, elongated scintillation in the field captures the eye immediately. At 44X, a half-dozen stars in a similar field can be caught with averted vision. It is only at 132X that M50's clusterlike nature can be confirmed. And this only at the price of great concentration by the observer. M50 is probably better suited to 100mm scopes, but in my estimation, on a reasonably dark night (ZULTM=5.0) it can be observed to satisfaction in a three inch refractor with fine optics.

Members of M50 begin at about magnitude 9.5 and go on down from there. The Pup probably showed about 2 dozen stars, few of which could be directly acquired without bowing out. The main group of stars is quite globular in appearance. At 132X that globularity appears encased in a triangle. The triangle fills about one-half the field of view. The core, at half that size, is displaced to the north. One tip of the triangle leads the cluster across the sky. Trailing this assemblage, just outside the 132 X field, is a blue 7.5 magnitude field star.

About one degree north and slightly west of M50 is reputed to be a very small reflecting nebula. Having finished my planned observations, I made several forays to this locale from M50. Each foray revealed objects that might be classified under the technical rubric "imaginosity". However, I did keep returning to a single spot where I could just detect a flash of dim, blue fuzzy light - much like a planetary nebula. I inspected this spot using magnifications of 44 and 132X, with and without an OIII filter. Nothing definitive, but I suspect that Argo could probably prove this out, one way or another. If in fact 2316 was found, then basically, an 11th magnitude nebula was revealed by a scope that can show 10.3 magnitude stars under 4.5 local ULTM transparency.

Starts you thinking that aperture fever is an affliction of the challenge-impaired doesn't it?

The Plan

1:15 PST Friday Afternoon:

I have the good fortune of having a "work week" of thirty-five hours. This arrangement was made when accepting my last job after working as a contract engineer for several months. Originally, I rationalized this arrangement based on a "moonlighting" career as a jazz guitarist/vocalist. Although I continue to cultivate jazz part time, I've since started a "starlighting" career as an amateur astronomer. Neither the astronomy, nor the jazz, has contributed anything to the household income. The few paying gigs the band gets basically cover my investment in musical instruments and equipment.

There is no money to be made in astronomy. Like jazz, there are far too many aspiring amateurs compared to the number of paying gigs. Culturally, live music is in a lull except for those few, very well payed musicians whose art maps well against the popular taste. Astronomy however, seems to be on the expanding arc. Regardless there is no "money" per se in it. - This follows from it's purity and broad-based approachability.

Before setting down to write this report, I had an insight into perhaps one of the most perplexing aspects of the practical life. That insight centered around a joke that goes something like this: "How do you make God laugh? -- Tell Him your plans!" So I propose to do an experiment. I will pre-plan my observations of the evening with Argo. I intend to bite off a huge chunk of my, in arears, observing plan and accomplish it all in a single evening. I will then return home at 10:30 PST and add a few notes to finalize it, post the results to the web, and be in bed by 12:00 midnight.

Keep in mind that as of right now the weather is splendid - but could change. Keep in mind that at this moment my car is in the shop and has yet to be returned. Keep in mind that any one of a thousand things could happen along the way to block me from fulfilling this plan. Keep in mind that the only thing that protects me from failure is detachment from results. Why? Because if I am detached from results failure is not a possibility. Deos Concedente, I will either complete my proposition in full, in part or not at all. Irrespective of results, the only way I can truly fail is if I fail to try.

1:40 PST Friday Afternoon:

I've been writing steadily. It has taken me nearly thirty minutes to articulate my proposal and its ramifications. On a "starlighting evening" around this time of year, I typically begin observing at 6:30. Even with the sky quite bright I can at least view Jupiter. If the Moon is out I can begin even earlier - a liitle while after the Sun dissappears behind the mountains to the west - say 5:00PST. Jupiter gives a decent view in twilight. Fellow astronomer Otto Piechewski contends that this is the best time to view it. He'll hear no dissagreement from me. As it gets darker I can switch to Saturn. Later once its decently dark (say around 7:15 - this time of year) I can switch over to viewing stars or double stars. Once it is truly dark, why continue with the planets - when all of the heavens in its glory is arrayed before you...

So now my plan is set: I begin with Jupiter, then Saturn, followed by a double star series. First the brighter doubles then those with dim secondaries. Finally, I return to the southern sky to begin first in the west, then to the east and finally north. It's a simple plan. But never before have I challenged myself to view and describe so much, with so many unpreviously unfound deepsky objects in one session. This may be a sure recipe for failure. But, with careful planning, and pre-documented notes there is the off chance that by the end of this evening, God and I will laugh together.

Jupiter

By the time I arrived at China Ridge this evening and setup, Jupiter had already begun his decent through the western sky. Only a few of Jupiter's macro features were visible (the 2 EBs). I did get one very transient view of the NTB. Saw one of Jupiter's more distant satellites (possibly Ganymede) trailing a diffuse shadow across the NEB. The satellite itself was perhaps one arc-minute ahead of it's shadow. The shadow was two thirds prgressed across Jupiter when I turned the scope on it. Other than the transit, an unusually poor viewing.

Saturn

In keeping with poor stability, Saturn's Cassini Division was only occasionally detectable. Ring presentation remains quite full (roughly spanning Saturn's globe). The equatorial belt could just be made out (on those few occasions when Cassini was noticeable). There was no ring plane shadow visible against the planet. But the planet limb did shadow the ring to the east. (Ring shadowing has definitely shifted from the leading edge - terrestrially western - to the eastern side of the planet.) Not a good night for either of the planets. Seems like we've lost the nice laminar air flow that prevailed during much of the fall and winter. I'll have to excuse the Pup for giving those less than satifactory views of the planets. There may simply be a seasonal shift in sky stability.

Zeta Orionis

Once the sky darkened sufficiently, I turned the scope on Zeta. 9.3 magnitude come was easy. 2nd magnitude primary and sixth magnitude secondary were pretty well ensconced in each others "glow". The situation was somewhat improved by the OIII filter at 120X. But under the still darkening sky there was too much loss in contrast.

Iota Cassiopeia

Cassiopiea will soon be replaced by Ursa Major as the primary circumpolar constellation in the north. Despite this, Iota remains an excellent test of transparency and stability. (Zeta Orionis is not a good test due to the fact that atmospheric water makes consistent separation impossible.) However I'm hoping by the time that Iota is gone, that Xi Ursa Majoris (magnitudes 4.4/8.9, separation 2.3 arc-seconds) will spin into view. Meanwhile, tonight Iota gave a very dirty split between it's 2.5 second primary and secondary. The 12th magnitude field star used for transparency checks was just visible direct at 180X. (It required slight aversion at 120X, and extreme aversion at 50X.) Under such conditions the local ULTM for the Iota region is about 4.6. This means the ULTM at zenith is 5.3. A passable, but not exceptional night on the Ridge.

NOTE FOR FUTURE REFERENCE: Assuming that Iota is 45 degrees above the nearest horizon: If the 50X ep shows the field star direct, the ULTM at the zenith is 6.0. If the 70X ep shows it direct, the ZULTM is 5.9. If the 120X ep does, the ZULTM is 5.6. Finally if only the 180X ep displays it direct then the ZULTM is 5.3. When slightly averted vision shows the star, .4 magnitude is subtracted from the associated magnification. If moderately averted, .7 is subtracted. Finally if the star can barely be detected - despite these methods - subtract a full magnitude. Keep in mind that this approach evolved from studies made through my eyes, with my scope and my eyepieces. Also the field star is thought, by me, to be 12.0 +/- .2 magnitudes. That estimate is based on research done with Epsilon Lyrae last Autumn when I resumed observing after several decades of other pursuits.

Aldebaran

This may very well be my last shot at finding the 11.3 magnitude 32 arc-second separated secondary (from this rapidly westering 1st magnitude star). At best, on this occasion, I got a hint of "a star on the limits" due south of Aldebaran and separated by about one-third the distance of the easier 11.3 come.

Gamma Eridani

It's now dark enough to make a fruitless effort at catching the 13.0 magnitude companion of the 3.5 magnitude primary (separated by nearly 1 arc-minute). No luck either with the 120 and 180X eyepieces. Gamma is too far south, and the primary, too bright. Like Adebaran this one will have to wait until a late night next fall when it is better placed for observation.

Alpha Lepori

Several attempts have now been made on this double. Once even, on a 6.0 ZULTM night. Occasionally I see a short-lived dim light to the northwest. Nothing conclusive. Tonight was no different. 2.7 magnitude Alpha is just too bright. Its light scatter, under these "damp sky" conditions, simply overpowers any magnitude 12.0 secondary (separated by 36 arc-seconds). Again, I have to wait until late next Fall. Under drier skies the riddle of intense light scatter may be solved. It would be nice if the issue proves to be seasonal in nature.

Herschel's Void

The Reverend T.W. Webb in his Celestial Objects For Small Telescopes notes that William Herschel found a number of curious voids in space and documented their positions. Such voids display very few stars. This particular void is located about 5 degrees east and 1 degree north of Lambda Persi. It is found by tracing a line through a 5th magnitude optical double from Lambda due east and proceeding slightly more than the distance between the double and Lambda. A sparsely populated region of dark space should be noted in the finderscope to the north. Using the 120X eyepiece I counted perhaps three very dim stars in the expected region. It was smaller than expected (perhaps 25 arc-minutes in diameter). Outside this region the 120X eyepiece easily showed several dozens of stars.

M35 & NGC2158

My observing plan includes two open clusters in Gemini. The brighter (M35) was reported on using the Pup on a 5.5 ZULTM night earlier this month. At that time about 50 stars were seen. Tonight (under slightly poorer conditions), Argo easily doubled the star count. Oddly enough, there was no region of higher concentration to the east. The cluster actually took on an entirely new look. The smaller 20 arc-minute size assigned to this cluster was also clearly perceptible. Curiously its center shows a lack of stars. Its general shape is very "rose-like". This is a spectacular cluster in a 6 inch scope. The Pup just doesn't have the reach to do it justice.

Meanwhile, even under the decent conditions of that night, the Pup was unable to reveal anything of NGC2158 (during a brief foray not covered in the original report). So now it was Argo's turn to catch this small (5 arc-minute) 8.6 magnitude open cluster (located about just west and south of M35). At 50X the cluster looked like an unresolvable "scratch of light" on the dark mirror of space. It's position was surprisingly close to the perimeter of the main cluster. Using averted vision, I caught the scintillation effect typical of such clusters. Due to poor stability, it gave a finer view at 120X than 180. At 120X maybe a half-dozen 13th magnitude stars could be caught (with averted vision). Just south of 2158 is a blue-white 9th magnitude star. The cluster appears vaguely triangular, one point directed toward this star.

M50 & NGC2316

I had also taken a look at open cluster M50 through the Pup. At cumulative magnitude 5.9 and apparent size 16 arc-minutes, M50 proved to be just barely resolvable at 132X. Since M50 is included on the 100mm scope list, I was very pleased with the result - especially given it's more southerly sky location. Under Argo's gaze, and slightly poorer conditions of this evening, the dozen or so stars seen by the Pup exploded into a group of perhaps fifty or sixty. And this at 50X! At 120X perhaps one hundred 10 - 13th magnitude stars were visible. The clusters shape also revealed itself. Like M35, it appears flowerlike. In this case though, the flower is rotated away from the viewer about 45 degrees. Also instead of a number of rose-like petals, this particular "flower" shows three, all oriented toward the northeast. A lovely sight.

On that previous occasion I'd made a foray to locate bright nebula NGC2316. At the time I thought the Pup's excellent contrast and definition had revealed this dim object usder averted vision. Tonight, even with Argo's additional 1.5 magnitude reach, NGC2316 was a tough catch. In appearance, it was a 2-3 arc-minute sized nebulous patch in the presence of two or three similarly-spaced 13th magnitude stars. NGC2316 was most easily found by centering the finderscope between a pair of east-west oriented 6th magnitude stars then shifting north and slightly east. This placed it within the 50X one degree field of view where it's subtle nebulosity managed to catch the eye. Switching to 120X distinguished the more northern nebulosity from the southerly field stars. I am pretty confident about this find. Based on it, I can now ascribe to it an empirically arrived at visual magnitude of 11.5.

NGC2023 & IC434 & B33?

Even with such a routine sky I couldn't help but revisit the Zeta Orionis region to follow up on neighboring nebulosity. Earlier this month I had a magnificent one in a season view of NGC2024. Well as it turns out, it was a once in a season view. (Although the faint glow of 2024 was apparent this evening.) Despite the unspectacular night, I scoured the locale for a whopping ten minutes looking for signs of bright nebula NGC2023. In so doing I noticed a pair of 8th magnitude stars just south and east of Zeta. One, the more northerly, was steeped in obvious nebulosity. While the other, was not. A 50X OIII-filtered look showed a tendency for the nebula around the more northerly star to flare toward Zeta. Surprisingly, the un-filtered view showed it flaring away from Zeta. Curious? Including both views, NGC2023 seemed to show about 8 arc-minutes of its published 10 arc-minute apparent size.

West of 2023 there was a definite linear glow extending from just below Zeta. The glow looked to be about 30 arc-minutes long and 5 to 10 arc-minutes wide. It abruptly cut off along a more or less straight line decending south from Zeta. This separated the glow into a westerly "bright" component and an easterly "dark" one. The dark, eastern side is Barnard 33, but the familiar "Horsehead Nebula" which appears against the brighter background of IC434 (the bright nebula side) was not noticeable. Near IC434, I counted only 2 11th and 12th magnitude stars. This reinforces the fact of the dark nebulas existence.

M78, NGC2071, NGC2067, NGC2064

Having scanned the region of Zeta Orionis, I briefly returned to M78 - three degrees north and 1 degree to the east. Having already reported on M78 and NGC2071, I wanted to see if I could in fact, confirm the observation of NGC2067 (located 4 arc-minutes northeast of M78) and possibly pick up the trail left off earlier on NGC2064. To aid in this I'd like to give an eyepiece view of the relationships between these nebulae and difficulties involved.

M78 is a target well fit for a 150mm scope. It shows definite regions of varied surface brightness, has a sharp frontier (to the north), displays a nice north-south orientation (along with additional details - flaring to the south under averted sight). NGC2071 is also an acceptable 150mm object for many of the same reason's but only less so. Certainly the view could be improved by an optically correct 200/250mm scope - but 2071 still "shows something of itself" to a 150. M78 engulfs a pair of stars in the south of the same 50X field that shows NGC2071 roughly 20 arc-minutes or so to the north. 2071 however, is associated with only the more easterly of a pair of 9th magnitude stars. Although the westerly star is bright enough to show star haze, there is a clear difference between the two in terms of haze brightness and extent. (The two stars are of more or less equal brightness and make for an easy comparison - an undertaking recommended to help observers become more familiar with the star haze problem.) Returning to M78: If you look slightly south and west of M78, using 120X, under the very best of conditions, you will see a dim thirteenth magnitude star which shows a small swath of haze extending toward M78. That swath is NGC2067 and has previously been reported on. Finally there is a fourth equally difficult object located north of 2067 by about 10 arc-minutes. It triangulates with M78 at about the same distance. This is NGC2064.

On this decent evening, and at the very limits of my perception I was able, at best, only get a hint of a small, diffuse light mound in the expected position. This means that effectively, NGC2064 is outside the range of my 150mm scope and skills as an observer. But it was worth the try. Strangely though, NGC2067 was less easily seen than 2064 this evening. Part of this is due to the sky transparency, but part of it may also be attributable to poor stability. Either way it is pretty clear that chasing down NGC2064 and NGC2067 is not something that I personally want to do unless the sky is unusually still and transparent. Certainly not the case this evening.

Beta Monoceri, NGC's 2185, 2183, 2182, 2170

Beta is reported to be an extremely lovely triple of magnitudes 4.7, 5.2 and 5.6. Components are separated by 7 and 10 arc-seconds respectively. Colors ascribed to Beta are "Yellow, Pearl-white and Blue-Grey". The main pair of the triple is wide enough for 50X. As it turned out, the secondary and tertiary members of this trio are quite close. (They have a similar position angle.) Beta Monoceri is best found by following the line of Orion's belt twice it's width to the southeast. Once near that position look through the finderscope until you see an optical double composed of fifth and sixth magnitude stars. Remember this location! We'll be back. Once you find the double, slew due east past a nearby fourth magnitude star to the next star three degrees east and slightly south. That's Beta.

At 50X Beta appeared double. The 7 arc-second separation showed a visible gap between the two main stars -- even under the poor conditions of the night. It was very difficult to choose between the two components on the basis of brightness. This because the tertiaries light blended with the secondary in the 50X eyepiece. Switching to 120X helped. The pair elongated. Poor seeing made further resolution impossible - even at 180X. Colors of the main pair were yellow and soft white. Without a clear split, it's difficult to say much about the color of the tertiary.

Having viewed Beta, I returned west to the optical double and began my search for a series of "bright" nebulae - not unlike the dimmer pair near M78. Two (2185, 2183) are found just north and west of the brighter member of the optical pair. The others (2182 & 2170) lie west but further away from the bright member (about half way to a third 6th magnitude star). None of these objects were easy. As it turned out, I only found three of them. Each was simply a light mound at 50X. When viewed at 120X, the three hinted at a sense of size. There was also a general brightening toward the center. To find these objects you have to get a sense of the stars in the region. The brightest (4th magnitude Gamma Monoceri) is not really involved but its position to the east helps you pick up the 5th and 6th magnitude wide optical pair (separation 20 arc-minutes) to the west. Of the two stars, the brighter star is the key to finding NGC2185 and 2183. About 1 degree further west is another 5th magnitude star. That star plays a role in turning up NGC2182 and 2170.

NGC2185 was the first 2 arc-minute light mound found. It's positon is about 10 arc-minutes northeast of the westernmost 5th magnitude star mentioned above. 2185 appears to have a 13th magnitude stellar core. At 120X it seemed elongated along the northeast to southwest axis.

The second object found was supposed to be NGC2183. But it's position made no sense to me. NGC2185 was on a line heading northwest from the 5th magnitude star but the next object found was heading more south and west. This makes me suspect the object was actually NGC2182. NGC2182 was arguably the brightest of the three turned up this evening. Again there was the sense of a dim thirteenth magnitude star at the core, with an associated light mound that took on a little more definition at 120X.

The final object, NGC2170 was located about midway between the two 5th magnitude stars on a more or less direct line. It too was an ill-defined light mound but did not seem to have as much central brightening as the others.

None of these objects are really susceptible to a six inch scope under present observing conditions. Some pleasure can be derived from finding them, but not necessarily from viewing.

NGC2301

NGC2281

According to the charts 6th magnitude open cluster 2281 is located within Auriga. To locate, however, it makes sense to begin with the bright stars Castor and Pollux in Gemini. A line drawn through the pair extended 2 and a half lengths (maybe 10 degrees to the northwest) should end up about 2 degrees east of the cluster. The cluster can then be seen in the 7X35mm finder. NGC2281 is a sweet littlet semi-circlet of two dozen 10 - 13th magnitude stars separated into two disproportionately populated groups. One group (brighter and more numerous) lies to the southeast. This is a rather uniform group of 11th magnitude stars. And is the first part of the cluster to catch the eye.

5:20 PST Late Friday Afternoon:

Most of the last three hours have just been spent pre-writing my observing plan. In so doing I included notes on how to find various objects, what I expected to see and speculated about sky conditions. In about 40 minutes I expect to have the hatchback packed. I'll then head off to the Ridge. Currently the sky is clear with a few scattered puffy clouds. The Sun is now behind the mountains. I am hungry and at once both tired and slightly exhilerated. There's still a lot to do. I do not plan to make such extensive preparations, or to execute such a demanding plan often. But it's catchup time. Each day the Sun stay's up longer, and there is a significant drift of the constellations to the west. This is the reverse of the same phenomenon that ocuurs during the Fall. We'll soon see how things turn out!

11:10 PST Friday Evening:

We'll I'm back. The drive to and from the Ridge was pleasant enough. (Tune up seems to have taken the rough edge out of the engine.) Trip a bit hurried on the way out. Left perhaps ten minutes later than hoped. Peaceful trip back. Of course, got home later than I hoped. Arrived on site in time to catch the golden orange glow of what must have been a glorious sunset. Most of this glow banked off clouds strewn across the sky to west. Scattered clouds continued to be an issue through much of the evening. So conditions were variable. But generally the sky opened up when it needed to. Only three observations were impacted by the high scattered, yet still semi-transparent clouds. But I managed to work around these situations and had a chance to look for, if not actually find and describe all the objects on the evening's plan.

3:00 PST Saturday Morning:

The last almost three hours have been spent interweaving my observing notes into my observing plan. Again I've spent more time planning and documenting an observing session than actually observing. This may not make any sense to you. It may not even make any sense to me. But it does work. If I didn't make plans, take notes, and write up reports, I'd probably soon lose focus on - and later interest in - observing. After a while both scopes would end up packed away in the attic awaiting a re-kindling of interest. Like the perennial serpent swallowing it's tail, the planning, annotating, observing, documenting and posting all feed on each other.

Oh, by the way, I'm not sure if God laughed or not. But I know He smiled - at least a little - in my general direction. And that, despite the long haul of the day sure puts a smile on my face.

A (Long) Night Under the Stars

The extended drought of clear skies, seemingly omnipresent Moon, and an impending Messier Marathon season, drew a large contingent of Santa Cruz Astronomy Club members to the club's Bonny Dune observing location last night. Such pentup demand for serious photonage can only lead to long hours at the eyepiece, dilation-strained entrance pupils, hullucinatory sleep deprivation, and extensive crow's feet around the eyes - from an excess of smiling. Although the sky was not as fine as I've seen it, it certainly didn't fight the assembled equipment. Respectable views of a wide variety of shallow and deepsky denizens were had by all. Plus a nice first for me, Chris (SCAC club president), brought out his version of an astro-convenient store's "Big Gulp" - a Meade DS-16 16 inch Dobsonian. Despite it's gargantuan size, Chris had no trouble attracting help in setting up. (Enthusiasm waned a bit about the time he needed to break it down :>( sometime around 1:00AM).

By the time I pulled in (around 7:00PM) several conclaves of observers were already busily pulling together equipment and accessories. One reason: Venus was rapidly sinking to the west. Of course, with tube currents running amuck, and the Veiled Beauty's low sky position, no one expected to get a sharp view. However, despite the poor image quality, Venus' amazonian, but shapely thinning crescent, holds it's own special allures. Personally, the view through the ShortTube (the Pup) offered its own special challenges. It was impossible to null out the chromaticism even through the most adept tweaks of the focuser. Between the scope's own refractive elements and those of the thick low atmosphere, the best I could do was swing between focus modes and examine Her light through a range of spectroscopic possibilities. However, I did notice one extraordinary thing, and this needs to be verified. I thought I saw the backside of Venus glowing with a very faint luminescence. Could this have been "Earth-shine"?

Jupiter made an obvious next choice. My own view (at 132X) hinted at another range of details for the Pup to reveal. Certain edge irregularities in the NEB were apparent. On one occasion I thought I caught part of the NTB. But beyond the usual concerns with such features, there was an obvious 6 or 7th magnitude star that looked like it was heading for a near miss of the south polar limb. Later I had a look through neighbor Ralph's 10" SCT. Many of the feature's I see on a fair (6/10) stability evening with the 150mm Orion Argonaut (Argo) were present. Ralph later setup a laptop computer and hooked up a video camera CCD and interface. Although he has yet to fine tune his equipment, we could make out the two equatorial bands. Ralph explained that later he would overlay a series of better images and send me the results. (I'll post this in this report once received.) I also got a look at Jupiter through Jacks' Orion XT10. In sliding through focus, I found the same "repositioning" of the outfocus limb glow that I've seen on Argo when it is miscolliimated. Jack and I took a few moments. I got to tweak the knobs on the primary while he inspected the reflected beam from the laser collimator. Within a few moments, the improvement was obvious. Due to it's short focal ratio, Jack's scope couldn't quite resolve Jupiter as well as Ralphs (very fine) SCT but it was game and provided a very bright (but under-sized) image of Jupiter clearly revealing the two main equatorial belts.

The sky was quickly darkening by this time. I turned the Pup on Saturn. Very, very, nice. Cassini's division, though not tack sharp, was cleanly defined. I could also make out the planet's shadow against the trailing ring structure. There is hope for the Pup in this regard. But 132X images are too small for much in the way of micro-feature detection. Unfortunately, I had no opportunity to view Saturn through Jack or Ralph's scope. I doubt we would have caught Encke (as we had on a previous occasion) but such a view would have been re-assuring. (Atmospheric stability has been poor in these parts since the weather broke.)

I came with a bit of a plan for this evening. I needed to do a bit of a sanity check in regards to the Deepsky Objects by Optimal Aperture List. I figured there would be a couple of 250mm scopes in attendence (Ralph's for one) so I hoped to get a peak at one 10" object from the list (Bright Nebula NGC1788 in Eridanus just west of Orion). As it turned out, both Jack and Ralph were happily willing to give it a go. I gave Jack a little impromptu point and wave session about where to look, while Ralph picked up his handy-dandy keypad and punched in the reference. Whir, grind, silence, look in the eyepiece. Thank you! Just north of the middle of the field of view, there it was: Ruddy-orange, cigar-shaped nebulosity extending between two 10th magnitude stars oriented north-south. Unlike the view in Argo I could clearly determine that the bulk of the nebulosity was concentrated near the dimmer member of the 5 arc-minute separated star pair . Ralph also took a look, but hasn't really had the chance to get accustomed to faint fuzzies. He picked out the nebulosity, wasn't sure if there was any color, but did notice the brightening near the dimmer component.

Meanwhile Jack used his 1X finder to orient the 10" dob about 2 degrees north of Beta Eridani. He swung the scope through the field but couldn't find it immediately. He then began a thorough and systematic star hopping exercise referencing a star atlas showing stars to magnitude 8.5. His patience was ultimately rewarded. He found his nebula. The view was certainly better than Argo's (on an even better seeing night) but not quite up to that of the SCT. Not bad for a low tech, easily transported scope costing less than a third of Ralph's tech-savvy light bucket. Although Ralph got their first, and had the better view, Jack now knows that region of the sky intimately. His diligent efforts hearken back to the great pioneers of our Art and Science who painstakingly examined the fabric of space and learned something of it's every stitch and fold...

About this time I realized that I had my own observing plan for the Pup. There would be very few chances to catch the Perseus Double-Cluster between now and next Fall. This pair of clusters is just the sort of deepsky denizen that the Pup excels at. With it's three-degree 16X field, it easily captured both clusters and left room to reveal a beautiful arc of 7th and 8th magnitude stars cascading down from the northwest to the more condensed western component (NGC869). For the first time I also noticed that the western cluster and eastern are somewhat complimentary in central condensation. The eastern cluster (884) seems short on bright stars near the core, while having a large corona of brighter stars outside that region. The western cluster is just the opposite. Its brighter members are found in the core. It would be neat if someone were to take the time to superimpose the two clusters photographically...

To catch my next target, I needed to reposition my scope. Cassiopeia was dropping rapidly to the northwest. Meanwhile Jack mentioned that he had yet to split a double star tighter than 4 arc seconds (from his home in the San Lorenzo Valley). Despite Cassiopeia's westering, Iota was still possible. I got Jack started on this fine triple. He soon tracked it down and got a nice clean split of the tighter 2.5 arc-second primary and secondary. Since I was in "wide field" mode I made no attempt to resolve the pair with the Pup. I was personally intent on M103.

The Deepsky Objects by Optimal Aperture list assigns M103 to the 100mm target class. Despite this, I was able to see perhaps eight 9th and 10th magnitude stars in a "mini-dipper" shape at 44X. Although some stars could be resolved, it really looked more like an asterism than a cluster. The extra 20mms might very well have made the difference.

Like 103, M34 is also classified 100mm optimized. Despite this, the 80mm showed perhaps a dozen 9th and 10th magnitude stars arranged in a "fighter-jet" shape at 44X. Since I could actually resolve some stars, and it did look sort of like "a cluster" I imagine the main reason it's assigned to the 100mm class is due to the need to display it at high magnification for best visual effect.

While I was exploring these two 100mm objects, Ralph decided to spend some time viewing M42 through the 250mm SCT. When I approached, he was well steeped in the view, but it wasn't long before he gave me a peak. Through the ten inch I noticed that the brightest portion of the nebula (around the Trapezium) held a nice soft blue gray color, while the darker nebulosity that cradles the region looked faintly ruddy-red. I remarked about this to Ralph - but he seemed a bit skeptical. I also mentioned something I'd picked up from fellow amateur Otto Piechewski. The Great Nebula is remarkably amenable to magnification and reveals tufts and folds not apparent in the usual 1 degree fields most amateurs frame it in. Ralph then dialed on the power and continued his contemplations of this extraordinary region at 200X. Later he gave me a quick glance through the scope and I told him I had caught an all too brief glimpse of the "E" member of Trapezium. In detecting this, it helped that I'd seen this 11th magnitude component with Argo (while observing under reasonably transparent, and stable conditions from China Ridge). Ralph then spent some time looking over the Trapezium and I gave him some guidance about where to look - a very important part of detecting this faint member. Unfortunately, my own view was too fleeting, so it is not surprising that Ralph didn't catch the spectre himself.

It was now time for me to shift venues. Chris came by and let me know that the 16 inch was setup. Previously I had talked with Jack about the Zeta Orionus region. At that time we looked through the ten inch and had no trouble making out the tripartite bright nebula NGC2024, along with the obviously brighter star haze that reveals NGC2023. FInally we had traced out the faint linear region of bright nebulosity (IC434) that acts as the background to the Horsehead Nebula (part of B33). All these main components were visible in Jack's scope - but we just didn't have the depth to make out the Horsehead itself. So in talking with Chris, the decision was made to make a go of reproducing Jack's efforts in that same region.

Meanwhile, before heading off to join Chris with the 16", Jack and I took a quick peek at M45 hoping to catch something other than "starhaze". And that we did. With filter in place, we scanned all around the cluster noticing obvious regions of extensive nebulosity - even where no stars were found. The big dob had proven itself a fine nebula sweeper - both in the region of Zeta Orionis and the Pleiades.

Now, I really haven't seen a truly big scope before. The largest had been a C12 at an earlier SCAC star party at Quail Hollow Ranch. Now I headed off in the direction of a copse of scopes to the southwest. As I approached it seemed that the sky darkened and the lawn dimmed. Why, the Big 16 inch was absorbing all the local photons! There could be no other explanation.

And boy was it big. Huge. Even at F4.5, it was loooooong. At 40 cm's, it was also wiiiiiiide. I'd have liked to give the thing a hug, but I don't think I could have wrapped my arms around it.

After a period of push and shove, tug and lug, we got the thing oriented on the southeastern member of the Hunter's Belt. Nebulosity was everywhere and obvious. The huge 2 inch, 70 plus degree eyepiece was also covering a lot of sky. The installed paracorr must have really helped out in the field flattening department. Although it wasn't flat to the edge, you had to look hard to tell. Inside-outside focus shifts did reveal some telltale traversing of star-images but the collimation was close enough for the project we had in mind. Unfortunately, about this time high-thin clouds drifted over the entire sky and reduced transparency noticeably (maybe by 3/4 magnitude). The clouds hung around for at least 30 minutes and by that time "the Quest for the Head of Black Beauty" had been abandoned after getting results similar to those seen with the 10 inch Dob.

Here's where Mark and Leon enter in. Before this there had been a bit of a buzz about turning up views of the Rosette Nebula (NGC2237) surrounding open cluster 2244 in Monoceros. Jack and I had viewed the Rosette through the 10 inch Dob and got excellent results with the OIII filter on his scope. Mark had been looking for objects that would showcase the wide-field virtues of his TeleVue 85mm apochromatic. Leon also wanted to visit this region. (He had'nt looked it up in over 5 years.) Soon, Leon had the cluster and nebulosity in sight. The view was excellent. Optically, Leon has one of the best 10" dobs I've ever looked through (Coulter manufacture). I had seen some wonderful views of the Veil complex through his scope so I wasn't surprised when, through the 30X 80 degree filtered view, the thing showed up almost as nice as the Great Orion Nebula in a small rich field telescope. (Well, almost, anyway). The main lobe was OBVIOUS. I could easily make out both large and small scale variations in surface brightness. I remarked that I had seen the Rosette in the Pup - but nothing like this. Mark was eager to try out Leon's filter (Skyglow?) in his Tele Vue 85mm. I returned to get the Pup for a little comparo. The $200 Achromatic Pup was going to be very tough for Mark's $1K apochromat to beat. Honest. The Pup gives 1/8+ wave performance, has perfectly matched and concentric intra-extra focal diffraction rings and, under steady sky conditions, shows 2 perfectly concentric in-focus diffraction rings at 132X. I figured he would need every one of those 5 extra millimeters of aperture, plus the high reflectivity mirror diagonal, and high quality ultra-wide 2 inch eyepieces just to stay up.

As it turned out, the Televue gave a detectably better view of the Rossette. (I, of course, attribute that to the superb eyepieces and 5 extra millimeters of aperture.)

We also made a check of Jupiter (Televue: 2, the Pup: 0). And later Mars (Televue 3: the Pup 0). La Superba carbon star (Televue 4: Pup 0), Xi Ursa Majorus: (Televue 4.5: Pup .5) Star images: (Televue 4.5, Pup 1.5 - go Pup!), Galaxies (Televue 5, Pup 2). Globular Clusters: (Televue 6, Pup 2). Money not spent: (Televue 6, Pup 6) - I call it a draw.

So those extra 5 millimeters, fully color-corrected optics, and high quality eyepieces do make a difference. But Argo would have kicked the 85mm silly. (That's it Argo, stick up for little brother.)

OK, so I've covered the shootout - everyone happy. (Mark, let me know if you think I was too hard on your scope, and I'll post a retraction in 8pt type somewhere obscure on this website.)

Time was now pretty close to midnight. As implied above, having exhausted the denizens of the winter season, we moved on to Spring and Galaxies.

Richard had setup his C9 off in the hinterlands of the observing site. Every once in a while he would pop by, say hi and retreat to the fastnesses of the Great Western Plain again for more private viewing. Later, he stopped by to say he had found M81 in Ursa Major and would I like to take a look. He also warned me that he wasn't sure that he had found M81 for sure but whatever he had found was purty. So I headed on down. Yup, there be a galaxy in that field. And it sure was purty. But was it really M81? Tube pointed in the right direction (from what little I can tell, this being my first full season of deepsky since using a Criterion 4" Dynascope at the age of 11). So now we began a systematic check against the charts and star fields to determine venue. We found two stars (5th and 6th magnitudes) that pointed at M81 on the charts. Unfortunately, Richard's 10X50 finder was out of focus, so we spent the next five minutes figuring out the mechanism. With this accomplished, I left Richard hot on the trail to return to my own scope. (Later Richard confirmed that he had gottent nice views of both M81 & M82.)

Now the fun really began. Mark's expertise is in galaxy hunting. Normally he drags out the big iron (12"), but tonight he had his airporter (the Televue). So he turned me on to the joys of the Messier Galaxies. And incredibly, 5 of the seven galaxies we viewed looked fine in our small scopes. Galaxies M65 and M66 in Leo were easily en flagrante delecto with an NGC galaxy (3628). The Messiers were easily picked out. Each showed a bright central core with extended cigar-shaped arms going out several arc-minutes. In the Televue, the third galaxy (forming the apex of an extended triangle) could also be detected and acquired with direct vision. I too, found the Messiers, but couldn't see 3628 anywhere in the field. I capitulated, the Pup began to tuck his tail and whimper. Televue rules!

Not exactly, Mark peaked through the Pup. Shifted the field slightly and declared that the Pup too showed the NGC and that I was using a little more magnifcation than he was. Peering into the eyepiece: "And so it was.". The Pup's view was every bit as present as that of the 85mm. The Pup rose up. His self-esteem swelled. "Today I am a dog!"

About this time, Chris had swung the huge Dob around to the north. The sky near Ursae Major darkened. I was beckoned to the eyepiece. And all the heavens stood forth before me. When it comes to galaxies: Aperture is King! Wow. (But those little ones sure gave unexpectedly fine views.)

Later, Mark and I turned our little 'uns on M81 and 82. Sweet! Like the Leo Trio, the Ursa Majorus Duo sang a tune. Both galaxies fit nicely, one showed a very prominent core, both showed elongated arms. The two galaxies looked like a pair of cats eyes peering down at the Big Cat to the South.

Earlier in the evening, Chris had turned the 16 inch on the NGC2024 planetary in Orion. After the usual lugging and tugging, Chris and I made out the small bright disk of the planetary. To me it resembled a true anularity. However, I recall seeing the same planetary through Ralph's 250mm SCT. The more highly collimated and longer focal length optics of the ten inch clearly delineated the planetary. This under even slightly poorer observing conditions. So the perrenial question remains. What type scope is best? Depends on what you want to look at.

Later in the evening I turned the Pup on M108, another Ursa Major galaxy. 108 did not show an obvious central core. Some brightening was seen toward the center. It was your basic diffuse football-shaped nebulosity. (M108 is actually listed under the 250mm bin in the Deepsky Objects by Optimal Aperture list. To better understand how this list works, M65 & NGC 3628 are on the 200mm list, M81 & M82 on the 150mm list. Only M31 is found on the 75mm list. M31 is an anomaly. - Because of its huge apparent size, it get's assigned to a scope size well-beyond what it displays well in. Frankly, all things considered, it probably shows better in a 6X35mm finder than any of these other galaxies in their respectively optimized scope sizes).

Now it was close to 2:00am. Mars was just clearing the trees to the east. Meanwhile, several globular clusters were spinning into range. Although M3 in Canes Venitici was unresolvable in either of the refractors, it showed a very condensed core, surface brightness roll-off to the frontier, and visible oblation along the east-west axis. M3 is the perfect object for this size. It may take more aperture to resolve stars, but as a whole M3 showed definite, and descibable variation in surface brightness, a discernable frontier, and a sense of form. It was also bright and contrasty. A 75mm classic!

M13 was also easily turned up (though still low). Everything about M3 was visible in M13. In addition, I caught telltale scintillation, and resolution with averted vision that indicates that our 3 inch plus refractors are on the limits of showing this cluster to great advantage. (M13 is on the 50mm list.)

Before wrapping up. Mark noticed that Lyra had cleared the trees to the northeast. Now I was home. My own celestial odyssey had begun with Lyra on the zenith last September. This long night had brought me full-circle. I was once again on coelum cognita. Everything from Gemini on that evening had been new celetrial terrain for me. Hungrily, I turned the Pup on M57. Beautiful. Both small refractors showed its clearly annular shape.

Now earlier I had exhorted my comrades in the night to wait until we could make Mars the last view of the night. Now was the time. We turned our refractors on the Red Planet. The God of War was now struggling mightily against the Earth's limb to rise unshacked into the empirian. Though the atmosphere beset him, we hungrily feasted our eyes upon His travail. The globe was very small. It's reddish-orange disk obvious. I thought I saw a bit of gibbousness about the edge. Mark and I both made out a small dark area near the limb. Enough for a start!

Finally and unfortunately, I was unable to capture the impressions of several groups of other amateurs who assembled with Richard out on the "Great Western Prairie". No doubt, a good time was had by all.

Against a Ribbon Sky

With the vernal equinox in the offing, I hoped to determine what time of evening the sky darkened enough to begin deepsky pursuits. Since I needed to be out anyway, and Jupiter remains decently positioned for viewing, I setup Argo in the backyard around 6:30PST. The Sun was already well behind the mountains. Jupiter could be seen visually high to the west, just north of the redwood tree that graces our backyard.

I could tell immediately that the sky was reasonably stable. This is a return to conditions that prevailed before the rains that hit us hard in February. Jupiter came to 180X focus quite nicely. The leading edge (Jupiter's eastern limb) quite sharply delineated. The two polar regions showed the usual grayscale gradient beginning just above the extreme temperate belts (NNTB & SSTB). Both these belts were defined, to my eye, as the line of demarcation where the polar gradient began. Beneath the NNTB, the north temporate belt (NTB) could be directly acquired. Beneath that is found the thickest and darkest belt on the entire planet - the north equatorial belt (NEB). Both edges of the NEB showed irregularities. The largest and most obvious, progressed about 2/5th the way across the globe - lagging just behind the centrally positioned Great Red Spot (GRS).

The GRS took up its usual position - riding high on the South Equatorial Belt (SEB). At first I was only able to detect it as a vague elongation. At that point it marked the frontier between the dark, preceding region of the SEB and a trailing region where the SEB splits. The nature of this split has been a mystery to me. Since I rarely get a chance to orient to feature progress across the globe, I wasn't sure if the split preceded, or followed the GRS. Tonight, after about a half-hour of continuous observation, the GRS gradually became more obvious to my eye. In addition, its progress from the slightly gibbous trailing edge, to the sharply delineated leading edge also became unambiguously apparent. I could see that the GRS led the split in the SEB across the globe. In fact, it's probably a good working theory to say that the GRS causes this split (or rift). Poetically, like the wake of a ship as it plows through the sea. The split itself may very well be a stream of lightly-colored material dredged up from deep-down in the planet's atmosphere. The GRS, seems to plumb the depths and, in so doing, stirs things up.

It is perhaps a little harder to understand the nature of the dark clot of NEB material protruding into the equatorial band (EB) that never seems to be very far behind the GRS. Possibly, the same corriolus forces that supply energy to maintain the spot, also contribute to the clot. How this energy system works (in abstract and in detail) will probably tax the modeling skills of planetary meterorologists for decades to come.

After getting a sense of the relationship between the spot and the split, I spent some time contemplating the EB between the two equatorial belts. To my eye, the EB tends, on first glance, to look like a bright "no man's land" devoid of detail. During moments of improved stability and heightened perception, I've occasionally noticed a very thin belt running through the middle of the band. Occasionally the belt is accompanied by thin, oblique, white and diffuse "threads" that I call "dove's footprints". This evening's view did not reveal any of these second order micro-features. However, over the last few viewings I've noticed slight contrasts in the shades of white that comprise the EB. Seeing this is an interesting study because it disabuses the mind of the idea that we need to see "lines of demarcation" between features in order "to see things". Maybe this is the key to seeing more real detail on this most diversely beautiful world.

I've read quite a few comments on the web saying that such and such a scope shows the moons of Jupiter as tiny disks. I personally have made the same statement. But is it really true? We'll tonight I had a good opportunity to verify this. For you see, if true, then the various satellites should show differing sizes of disks - even stars can show a "spurious" disk under steady atmospheric conditions. Tonight two of the satellites were close enough to compare disks. One (probably Ganymede) was definitely larger than its neighbor (possibly Europa). Due to the great distances between them, it was hard to make out relative sizes among the others. While Jupiter is visible, it makes sense to watch for other approximations. But, most certainly, if my eyes are to be believed, at least one of Jupiter's satellites shows a disk appreciably larger than another.

After dwelling on Jupiter for nearly an hour, I broke off and took a quick look at Saturn. The amount of detail seen on Jupiter was quite appreciable. I expected to get a nicely delineated view of the Cassini Division. In fact, this did not pan out. Again, the division was easily acquired but diffuse, blending into neighboring Rings A and B. It's possible that this image-breakdown is the result of Saturn's lower sky position. However, at the time of view, it was easily 50 degrees above the nearest horizon. A puzzler...

It was now, 7:30. Despite my backyard post, the sky looked dark enough to begin the evening's deepsky quests. But before doing so, I turned Argo on Iota Cassiopeia. Nice clean split. Tripartite diffraction rings swung randomly around the spurious disk of the star. The 12th magnitude secondary was directly acquirable at 120X. This suggested a ZULTM of 5.5. Another good night or reasonable transparency. But this would not last...

On a hunch, I decided to take out the Pup and see if the 80mm refractor could reveal the 2.5 arc-second gap between the 4.7 magnitude primary and 7.0 magnitude secondary. The Pup showed one beautiful and complete in-focus diffraction ring around the primary. With slightly averted vision, I could just detect a local brightening in the ring that marked the position of the 7.0 secondary. This was a nice split. The Double Star Resolution Calculator suggests that this is only possible in a short focus 80mm refractor on a night of excellent stability. However, it's just possible that the addition of a barlow lens gives a short focus refractor (such as the Pup) the additional image coherence needed to push the scope into the "long-focal ratio" category. As such, the seeing need be "good" (7/10) to achieve a clean split.

The fact that the Pup could split the tighter Iota pair is not a surprise. What was a surprise is that the 12.0 field star could just be detected with moderate aversion at 132X. Allowing for the .7 magnitude boost that comes such aversion (to my eye at least), sky transparency to the north through the Boulder Creek lightdome must be 5.5! Impossible, since Iota itself (at magnitude 4.6) was just barely visible direct. So what is the answer? Could the field star be appreciably brighter than magnitude 12? Not likely.

So I made a second check of the field star through Argo. It could be directly acquired at 120X. This generally suggests that the ZULTM is 5.6 and the local region of Iota is 5.0. Again, 5.0 is appreciably higher than the 4.6 my eye suggests.

So now I have two mysteries. First, the 80mm refractor shows .5 magnitudes deeper than it should vis-a-vis the 150mm MCT. Second, both scopes see better into the light dome (relatively speaking) than the eye is capable of.

The second mystery is probably easily explained by saying that the eye is more likely to be "dazzled" by the large volume of light entering it natively, than when peering through the scope. The first suggests that, overall, refractors have more reach than catadioptics - possibly due to the smaller number of light diminishing surfaces. This also explains why the Pup (and the Televue 85) performed so well on deepsky at the last star party (see above). Based on calculations using the Limiting Threshold Magnitude Calculator they effectively get a 25% boost (at this aperture) in reach. (By the way, this has nothing to do with the existence of a central obstruction since this effect is very small and can be offset using the calculators obstruction size input field.) <