Wednesday, September 10, 2008

Tuesday Night

I had pretty much given up on Tuesday weather-wise. It was cloudy and drizzling into the evening when my wife and son and I headed to the mall. When we stepped out a couple of hours later, I was pleasantly surprised at how clear and calm it had become.

The first thing that caught my eye was Jupiter lingering brilliantly just 3 degrees NW of the half-full moon. Then the bright stars punched through Brampton's light-polluted skies, and I was geared up for my first night of observing in a week. Over the previous few days I'd made a list of "Night Targets," including about ten double stars, that I'd focus on next time I was at my scope.
Once I got home and the baby was asleep, I grabbed these lists, as well as my trust Sky Atlas 2000.0 and my copy of "Nightwatch" and headed to Mississauga. I think it was around 2230 or so when I got to my parents' place and set up my scope in their backyard. Unfortunately this left little "cool down" time for my scope, which it definitely needed considering it was only about 10 Celsius outside. There was clearly some turbulence in my scope for the first part of the night, and I got some annoying "spiking" on the brighter stars, which can be a pain when trying to separate particularly close doubles. I tend to test my scope first thing on Epsilon Lyrae, the famous "double double," to see how well I can expect to separate relatively close doubles. I could make out the companions to both primaries, but there was deinitely a rising and falling "bridging" between them, which I knew would make it difficult to separate other systems I wasn't familiar with.

I set my sights on Pegasus first. I found Kappa Pegasi rather quickly, a bright yellow-white primary F-type star with a companion that was little more than a fine speck of light just 14" away. I tend to start with either my 35 mm or 25 mm eyepiece, then step up to my higher power 10 mm, and some times add a 2x Barlow on top of that. The seperation showed well at all magnificatons. But with my 25 mm, given its wider FOV, I "discovered" another double approximately 0.5 degrees WSW of Kappa Peg. I haven't consulted my books yet to determine any specifics on this double, but prolonged viewing suggested it was a reddish and bluish pairing, with the blue at a PA of roughly 280 degrees. It's always nice, when star-hopping, to come across these fine little gems.

Continuing through Pegasus, my next stop was Pi Peg, which formed a pair of doubles with Pi2. A nice set of yellow stars in a neat, diagonal line. Again, I always love the dim, dust-like specks some of the companions make next to their much larger and brighter primaries, as was the case here.

57 Peg revealed a constrasting set of colourful stars. I got a hint of yellow-orange from the A star; the B star, which was just fainitly visible in my light-polluted conditions, eventually revealed a bluish tint with prolonged viewing.

Side-stepping from double stars for a moment, I hunted down 51 Peg, an otherwise plain, 5 mag, G-type star (similar to our sun, in fact), which is only made interesting with the knowledge that it was the first star found, in 1995 I believe, to have an extra-solar planet in orbit around it. It made a nice star to look at knowing it was the first to give promise to other worlds well beyond our own solar system.

I next spent considerable time tracking down the spiral galaxy NGC 7331, also in Pegasus, but had no luck finding it. I'm not sure if my star hopping was bad on this one, or if it was just difficult to pick out in my sky conditions. Oh, well - another night!

Swinging my Dob over to Cassiopeia, I quickly set my focus on Eta Cass, a very famous and nice-looking yellow-white and red double, with the latter being a fine red pinpoint next to its much brighter companion.

It was time to knock off a couple more items from my Messier checklist, so I sought out M103, an impressive elongated cluster in Cass. I thought it looked like a spider, with wispy, grey legs curving out from a spine of soft stars. The brightest stars consisted of two in the north end of the cluster, giving the spider a set of glaring white eyes. To my pleasant surprise there was a double to found in the NW point of the cluster - Struve 131, a dim pair with a hot blue primary and a companion that was little more than a fine point next to it.

As my FOV drifted from M103, my eye caught a faint, hazy nebula which I almost ignored. But it was unique in that it appeared wedge-like in appearance. A bright star was immediately distinguishable in the N end, and with averted viewing at med. power for several seconds I was able to make out a triangular pattern of three stars at the opposite end of the "wedge." I've since learned this nebula is NGC 7635; what's interesting - something I certainly didn't see at the time - is that under clear, steady, dark skies and with the right magnification a bubble-like shape is supposed to be noticeable in the centre of the nebula. That'll make a neat future target!

Turning back to my Messier List, I next hunted out M52, a rich, well-scattered open cluster also in Cass. Most of the stars are hot, blue B-types, with a few yellow G-type stars adding contrast.

By now it was into the early morning hours. It was cold and my feet - and my books and equipment - were soaked with dew. I took the time to seek out Gamma Andromeda (Almach), simply one of the most beautiful doubles in the night sky, rivalling Albireo and Rasalgethi. This is probably the most viewed double next to Albireo, and rightly so - it is a real treat, with a bright, golden primary and a lustrey blue companion sitting nearby at 10". This fine sight was a good way to close off my double star hunt, though I still had two others in And and three in Cepheus I wanted to find (to be continued another night).

Before packing up, however, I swung my scope to the east, where Vega was flickering just over the horizon, and Cygnus was preparing to set above it. I aimed at Eta Cygni using my 35 mm eyepiece to give me a wider FOV. This way I was able to encompass in my view a 9th magnitude star known as HDE 226868, a blue supergiant located 0.5 degrees ENE of Eta Cyg. The star is apparently made to look more orange than blue thanks to a cloud of interstellar dust that separates us from it, but I couldn't really discern any distinct colouring to it. But what made the star interesting is the fact that right next to it is the most convincing candidate for a black hole, known as Cygnus X-1. Naturally, there was nothing of this to be detected visually, but - just like 51 Peg earlier - it was the idea that I was staring across space at such a profound object that intrigued me.

By now Orion - my favourite constellation - was rising to the SW. I took a quick peek at the hazy nebula and trapezium within, but it was still too low on the horizon and affected by light pollution and turbulence to make the sight as incredible as I know it is. Until later in the fall then...

It was 0400 when I packed up for the night and headed home. The baby was up at 0530 which meant I was too! I guess lack of sleep is the only real hazardous part of amateur astronomy, but it can certainly be worth it.

Monday, September 8, 2008

Monday Night

It's Monday night, and it's cloudy as hell. Probably for the better, as I need to be up and out the door no later than 0630. Looking at cleardarksky.com I see that tomorrow is somewhat promising, so I'll wait and see what comes of it. I haven't been out in a week. It's been a mix of cloudy skies, early mornings, and lots of packing that's been holding me back. What's nice is that my wife and son and I are moving October 1 to a house - so I'll have my own backyard! It's still in Brampton, and still light-polluted as all hell, but at least it's better than trekking it to my parents to borrow their yard. My Dob will stay at their place until we're settled in, then I'll start exploring the sky over my new place. I have a large, empty schoolyard directly behind the house, and not too many trees, so the sky is fairly open. The only real nuisance are the orange sodium lights glaring along the edge of the pathway through the schoolyard. One is almost directly behind my backyard. Guess I'll just have to cope. Plus, with my scope readily available, the occasional trip to Palgrave or Forks of the Credit will be a little easier.
As I had the day off and decided to take a break from packing for a bit, I spent some time skimming the books for some new "Night Targets." I'll start a separate thread on this topic when I feel like it, but it's essentially just a list of items I'd like to turn my scope on the next night I'm out. Many of the things on the list are so basic that more experienced observers will have seen them a thousand times, or stopped looking at them years ago. But we all have to start somewhere!
While my son was at the sitter's for half the day, and after I finished taking care of some of the legal stuff with the mortgage, I paid my trusty reflector a visit. I recently bought a laser collimator, and put it to the test this afternoon. It made aligning the optics a breeze. I've collimated so rarely - this is the first time in over two, maybe three years, that I've tried - but it went so smoothly that my worries about the job being a big pain in the ass were calmed the moment I started adjusting the secondary mirror. To see the red dot shine dead centre on the primary, and reflect spot-on with itself after just a few minutes' work made me realise the $50 spent on this nifty gadget was well worth it.
Not much else in my little world of astronomy to report on for today, and as this is my first day at work on this blog I think I can talk the boss into letting me leave a bit early. And with tonight, and possibly the next few nights a bust in observing terms, I think I'll call it quits here.

Introducing CosmoBlog

My name is Ryan and I'm a hunter. I don't hunt game though - I hunt the distant, fuzzy objects hidden throughout our universe. My hobby - or obsession, if you please - is astronomy. (Note, that's astronomy, not astrology!!! I have nothing against astrology or those interested in it, but it riles me when people refer to me as an astrologer - the two are very different!).



So my main occupation is the stars, or at least it would be my occupation if I was paid for it. I'm not a professional astronomer, but rather the backyard, amateur variety who willingly gives up hours of sleep on clear nights to hunt the sky for the natural show-pieces of our universe. Be it a freezing night or an attacking swarm of mosquitoes, I'll brave it if the universe promises to reveal a few of its treasures in return. My primary interest is in the objects beyond our solar system. When people find out about my hobby, they're often surprised at how little I focus on the moon and planets - I think it's because many are unaware that far greater things lie beyond our sun's gravitational influence. As beautiful an attraction as the rings of Saturn are and as hauntingly close as the craters and rilles of the moon may seem, I tend not to spend too much time on these "close neighbours" unless there's something really spectacular going on with them.



My main prey - for now - are double stars. For those who don't know, double stars are two or more stars that are seemingly or actually paired up. This awesome "pairing up" (or tripling up or quadrupling up or whatever the case may be) often gives rise to some stunning sights, especially when the stars are of vastly contrasting colours. This, together with the fact that double stars make fairly easy targets in light-polluted skies, is my main draw to these celestial wonders. I've also recently begun observing variable stars and nebulae, all while continuing to tick off the items on my Messier Objects list as I come across them.



My interest in astronomy began as a kid, though I cannot pinpoint when. I just have this lifelong memory of everybody asking me to provide the name of a particular constellation, or to fill them in on the latest news from space (especially around the time of the Mars Rover landings). I didn't get my first telescope until I was around 21, and, sad to say, I was so uneducated in the finer arts of observing that I hastily rushed out to buy an off-the-shelf Bushnell 60mm telescope from Canadian Tire (425x!!!). Critisize these "trash scopes" as many may do, I have to admit to a fondness for it as it was my first true window to the universe. I still remember the cold, clear December night when I brought it home, spent over an hour piecing it together, then headed into my parents' backyard to peer up at the moon. Suddenly the moon became a real place, filled with mountains and valleys and shadows that all seemed so close. I was hooked! Observing the planets came next (I ignored the stars beyond), and I thought my little, wobbly scope was the cat's ass for the longest time. Then I became educated.



It was the autumn of 2004 when I signed up for an evening class in Astronomy through a night learning program. It was an eight session course, from 7-9 pm every Monday. My instructor was a backyard astronomer who had been an enthusiast of the hobby for 20 years, and he remains the greatest influence I've yet come across in the world of amateur astronomy. His name was Guy Nason, and his obvious excitement and passion was well-projected in all eight sessions, and it has clung to me to this day. He was interesting and informative and never ever boring. He even turned me on to the second greatest influence I've come across, Terence Dickinson's excellent book, "Nightwatch." I snatched the book up the day after Guy told us about it, and pored through it front to back then back to front. It, along with Guy, set me on the right course, even helping me to select my current telescope.



Yes, it's sad to say it, but after reading "Nightwatch" and listening to Guy, my little Canadian Tire scope was put back into its box, and there it remains, awaiting the second coming of a novice astronomer. It was just after Christmas, 2004, when, with the information I'd gleaned on what to look for in a good scope and with a few hundred bucks in my pocket, I made my way to Efstonscience in Toronto. There I invested in an 8" reflector on a Dobsonian mount. Everything and everybody told me this was the best deal in the hobby, and I have to say it hasn't let me down. For $500 my window to the universe suddenly got much larger and much clearer than ever before. Again, I set my focus on our celestial neighbours, absorbing what I could of them all. But suddenly there was much more to see beyond the phases of Venus, the clouds of Jupiter, and the polar caps of Mars. Suddenly there were sparkling globular clusters, wispy nebulae, and the enticing smears of distant galaxies to make my worldview that much more humble. Then, after nearly a year of enjoying my new telescope and the new attractions it brought, life changed. I started a new career that demanded I work six days a week, often starting before 6 am. The night became less accessible. After I moved I eventually wound up in an apartment in Brampton, and my telescope - little use to me in the apartment - stayed at my parents' house in Mississauga. The trips down to use it on special occasions became less frequent. They disappeared altogether over the months that followed. Before too long I got married and had a baby boy who will be a one year old on October 5. Only recently (since mid-summer 2008), two years after the magic seemed to have died, have I returned in full-force to my hobby. In fact, I'd say I'm even better and smarter at it now than when I left. I pored through all the books on my bookshelf again, then added more books and pored through those. I visited Chapters and picked up my favourite astronomy magazines (namely "SkyNews"), and completely reacquainted myself with the night sky and all aspects of the hobby I'd either fogotten about or been ignorant of before. I scanned the sky with my eyes, trying to recall the constellations and their brightest stars. I raised my binoculars to the moon and to Jupiter, their faces as famailiar as those of any old friends. Then I returned to my telescope, which even during my absence of use I'd kept well-maintained and well-loved at my parents' place, knowing one day I'd need it again.



It was early August when I dragged it out into my parents' yard again. The first day was just that - it was day, and with my solar filter firmly in place I took in the sun. The sun must have been on holidays, because I'd never seen such inactivty on its surface. But it gave my a chance to reacquaint myself with the workings of my reflector and to test the optics. On the night of the Perseids I returned, setting my scope and myself up for a long night out in the cool, mosquito-filled August air. I wasn't sure what to start looking for. The meteor show provided a proper diversion while I reflected on where to look. I returned to some old familiars, and went through some of the summer target suggestions in the magazines. It was via the latter that I became hooked on double stars and variable stars, and have returned with renewed vigour and enthusiasm to my long beloved hobby. Recent trips to Efstonscience and Khan Scope Centre have increased my supply of accessories (and decreased my funds), and a recent Efstonscience-sponsored star meet in Palgrave has introduced me to fellow observers and fresh perspectives by giving me the chance to look through other scopes (All I can say is, "I want!").Until recently I've forgotten how wonderful and leisurely this hobby is, and how greatly it expands your mind, both in knowledge and in universal perspective. I've slowly begun this blog for the purpose of sharing my insights and observations with others as I gain them at my telescope, and, more importantly, to hear the insights and observations of others who will hopefuly share them here. Though my primary interests (for now) are double and variable stars, I'm keen to listen to (or read about) any other topics related to astronomy, space, astrophysics, etc. So, to "borrow" the words of my former and great instructor Guy Nason, Carpe Noctem!