“...this is because bad collimation is the number one killer of telescopes worldwide...

If you can con the amateur into taking collimation seriously you will end up in some hall of fame.”
................................Walter Scott Houston, 1987.

 

 

New Perspectives on Newtonian Collimation
Fourth Edition
by Vic Menard and Tippy D’Auria

Buy it now!


Addenda to Perspectives (updated 05/02/06)

"The List", aka, "My Favorite Deep Sky GoTo Tour"

Articles

Links to Autocollimator Movies: 1 (.2MB) and 2(1.1MB)

 

 

 

 

Articles:
•StarMaster 22-inch GoTo
•Voyager v3.2
•TheSky v5.05
•RealSky
•When you speak the language of the stars
•The Care and Feeding of The Local Group
•Watchers of the Skies
by John Dobson
•How Much Are We Willing to Take for Granted?
by John Dobson

 

The Next Revolution ...........StarMasters 22-inch GoTo Dobsonian       November 1999
Earlier this year I decided it was time to get a new van, and I figured if I opted for a little smaller cargo capacity, I might restrict my ability to move some things I really shouldn’t be moving anyway... So, I traded from a full-size van to a new Honda Odyssey mini van. One of my concerns was my old 20-inch f/6 Dob with its 8-foot ladder. After a lot of measuring and a long involved sales pitch to my wife, Lynne, who has always told me we (she) were going to keep the 20, we decided it would have to go. Of course I could only persuade her by agreeing to get an even larger ’scope, so I had my work cut out for me. I established the necessary criteria the new ’scope would have to meet, and we started looking. The new ’scope would have to be easy to set up, have a removable mirror/cell, would ideally be able to be loaded in and out of the van by one person (easy for two), and would all fit, including the ladder, in the 4x5-foot space behind the back seats of the new van. Convinced there was a light-weight 24 in our future, at the Chiefland Star Party in May, we opted instead for a 22-inch f/4.1 StarMaster Dobsonian, equipped with the new StarTracker alt-azimuth Go-To drive system.
Optics for the 22 are by John Hall of Pegasus Optics. I had already evaluated several Pegasus mirrors and all were consistently excellent, so that decision was easy. The diagonal mirror from Pegasus is also outstanding, certification and interferograms for both mirrors are included. The 22 StarMaster comes with a removable mirror cell assembly, but I take it a step further and remove the mirror from the cell and store it in a separate custom box. At f/4.1 a Paracorr is standard equipment, yielding an effective focal ratio of 4.7. My 8-foot ladder has been retired and a sturdy 3-step stepladder allows an average height adult to comfortably observe at the zenith, another benefit of f/4.1. A 2-speed collimatible focuser by JMI takes care of the persnickety critical focus (this type of focuser is a required accessory at this focal ratio!). SkyCommander Digital setting circles put over 9000 objects at your fingertips, and a special user list lets you load up to 59 objects that aren’t in the databases (comets, Abell planetaries, whatever). The alt-az drive was added primarily for public observing sessions, but after I had the opportunity to play with it for a while, I found the go-to feature to be an incredible spoiler. To top off the high-tech accessories, I had an AstroSystems electronically controlled dew heater installed behind the diagonal mirror.
I took delivery of the ’scope at the fall Chiefland Star Party in November. Lynne and I arrived shortly after nightfall, and I was a little surprised to find a bunch of our friends hadn’t set the 22 up earlier—I mean, it was there! Rick Singmaster, the owner of StarMaster Telescopes, was ready to help us set up the moment we arrived, and in about 10 minutes and 16 no-tool knobs later, the ’scope was mechanically assembled. In a few minutes the electrical was hooked up. We used my laser to set the collimation in the dark, which was already pretty close out of the box. We popped in the Paracorr and a 27mm Panoptic, did a 2-star alignment on Polaris and Fomalhaut, engaged the drive motors—and then Rick handed me the hand-controller. He suggested M27 for a first target. I punched it in on the SkyCommander and hit GoTo on the hand controller. Quietly but surely, the ’scope gained momentum as it swept across the sky, and then played a series of descending tones as it acquired M27, dead-center in the field of the 27 Panoptic. Lynne and I looked in the eyepiece, and it was like Christmas morning with extra caffeine. For the next few hours, with lots of commentary and kibitzing from friends and hit-and-run observers, we made our new toy work hard. We would purposely pick objects halfway across the sky, just so people could see and hear a 22-inch Dob acquiring yet another deep sky favorite at the touch of a button. The digital setting circles maintained a +/-.2 degree accuracy throughout the evening, many times centering objects in the narrower field of a 13 Nagler. The next night, the first 12 volt battery finally died, so we swapped the second back-up battery and never lost our alignment—the 9-volt battery in the SkyCommander keeps the setting circles powered, too cool!
Of course the real proof that we made the right decision was the view in the eyepiece. I figure conservatively the drive adds at least 2 inches of aperture by keeping the image steadily centered and eliminating the need to pull the ’scope around while viewing. I found myself switching eyepieces and filters while the ’scope was slewing to the next object (I only knocked the stepladder over once!). Some initial impressions of what a 22 can do include: M27–the Football nebula, not a Dumbbell (lots of embedded stars), NGC6543–the Cat’s Eye, apple-green helix around a pearl-white central star, NGC6888–the Crescent Nebula, looks like an x-ray of a big Idaho Baked Potato, NGC6992–the Veil East, Tom Clark calls this the bubble gum nebula (like you stepped in it and dragged it all over the place), NGC7009-the Saturn Nebula, a bright blue disk with easy ansae, NGC7293–the Helix, really bright!, remember when we used to say this object was difficult??, NGC7789–an open cluster in Cassiopeia, hundreds of pin point stars and dark lanes, NGC246–a planetary bubble nebula in Cetus, looks 3D with bright embedded stars, easily better than the picture in Burnham’s, NGC253–galaxy in Sculptor, just like the photo, M33–the Pinwheel Galaxy in Triangulum, with the core and most of the spiral structure and HII regions of M33 just outside of the field, the galactic halo becomes amazingly prominent, M74–looks like a mini version of M101, multiple spiral arms, HII regions, Saturn–lots of ring structure, surface markings, and creamy colors, and Jupiter–even with an 80A filter brilliant at 300x, the Red Spot is prominent as well as numerous festoons and belts, the Galilean satellites show disks. And all this with about 1-arc second seeing (we can’t wait to get this baby to the Keys)! Clearly, after using this ’scope for a couple of nights, a required accessory is one heck of an observing list.
Breakdown on Sunday morning was pretty wet, we had a lot of dew on Saturday night which cut our observing time down to a few hours (or about 300 objects without breaking a sweat)! Even wet, the components are easily manageable and fit with room to spare in the back of my new mini van. At home, the mirror had its first bath, the rest of the ’scope got a thorough clean-up, and all the grass bits and dirt were dislodged from the azimuth drive wheel. I didn’t get an opportunity to use the wheelbarrow handles to move the ’scope around the site (we’ll do that next time, just to keep people on their toes), and I discovered even the largest Desert Storm Cover doesn’t quite cover the whole telescope.
I really sweated the decision to unload my old 20, but the new 22 is just unbelievable. Back in 1988 at the Texas Star Party, Robert Suding was already talking about alt-az stepper drives. The big kicker back then was handling objects near the zenith, Dobson’s Hole, and of course, there were those steps—you can’t have a jumpy image. Years passed and drive platforms became popular, but to me they were still, I don’t know, a gadget. Earlier this year Meade added go-to to the ETX line and created an instant best-seller. The StarTracker on a 22 is like the Dobsonian revolution meets the ETX—on steroids. It’s low-tech Dob meets high-tech computer drive capability, and the result is incredible power and serious fun. With it’s altitude velcro-drive (yes, you read that right), the ability to be disengaged and reengaged at any time, multiple slew rates with arrow keys on the hand controller, and smooth stepless operation, we have entered the next revolution in amateur astronomy.
This is a powerful observing tool, with amazing toy appeal, it’s just too cool...
Vic & Lynne Menard
Bradenton, FL
Postscript: I’ve just returned from the Winter Star Party. Unfortunately, we didn’t get the quarter arc second seeing this time around, but I did get to add some new accessories for the 22. Vic McKeighan installed two new e-proms in my SkyCommander and GoTo/Drive computer. With the new chips installed, an additional com port is enabled and we were able to hook up a laptop with Guide7 planetarium software. Moments later we were selecting objects from Guide7’s extensive databases and slewing the ’scope from the computer. The possibilities with 22 inches of aperture and seamless computer integration are just mind boggling. Then I met up with Al Nagler who was showing off the new 31mm Type 5 Nagler and the prototype adjustable Paracorr—good thing I had my credit card with me... The views in the 31/Paracorr combo are absolutely stunning. Stars in the Double Cluster are pinpoint to the edge. The true field is almost a full degree. Eta Carina fills the eyepiece with it’s detailed nebulosity. The colors of the Orion Nebula are vivid, the entire loop and M43 are easy in this richest field combo. Andromeda’s dark lanes sweep across the field of view and M32 floats comfortably nearby. A simple twist on the adjustable Paracorr optimizes it for my 9mm Type 1 Nagler, and moments later we’re deep into the Trapezium with countless tiny pinpoint stars embedded throughout the central nebula. Uncle Al has outdone himself again (how does he keep doing it?). On the new 22 StarMaster, this is the ultimate richest field eyepiece combo. For you Monty Python fans, the Holy Hand Grenade is here at last—it’s made by TeleVue and it fits in a 2-inch focuser!

Back to top..................Back to Articles

Voyager v3.2 .................March 2001
If you’ve been reading your newsletter for the past year or so, you’ve no doubt heard me bemoan the fact that the new release of Voyager, the desktop planetarium for Macintosh, had been delayed for months on end. Well the wait is finally over. Voyager III, version 3.2 arrived in my mailbox while I was at the Winter Star Party (that figures, right?) I opened the CD packaging (no manual, this is an upgrade from the original Voyager III v3.0 release over a year ago) and popped the CD in my Mac and ran the installer. Very little tweaking and I’m up and running—first impressions were, well, a little underwhelming. The feel of the software is lean and clean, all the goodies are enabled and the user interface is intuitive and friendly. But it’s been so long, I now find myself comparing Voyager to TheSky for Mac. I had my reservations about TheSky as well, the user interface in particular. But TheSky’s display and object formatting were beyond reproach. Voyager III also does an excellent job of manipulating the desktop sky simulation, and is extensively customizable, but head to head I think TheSky does a better job, even if it is a little difficult to navigate. Numerous little glitches with Voyager v3.2 puzzle me—this isn’t version 1.0, Voyager has an excellent pedigree (of course Voyager III was completely rewritten to be multi-platform). Still, when you ask Voyager tofind Copeland’s Septet, and it locates the wrong object, you have to wonder. When you finally do find Copeland’s, the positional elements for the galaxies are off, just a little, but it’s obvious. Elements for the planets (and their respective moons) are on the money, you can even watch Io transit the face of Jupiter, its shadow lagging behind just like it does in the eyepiece. I have to admit, I’m finally considering moving Voyager II to my archive disk, and that is indeed high praise for Voyager v3.2. I just don’t know if I’m ready to archive my copy of TheSky also. Voyager v3.2 is an excellent build of a stalwart Macintosh application, I just find myself wondering when Carina Software plans on releasing version 3.3…

Back to top..................Back to Articles


TheSky v5.05 for Macintosh.............. January 2000
I recently acquired TheSky for Macintosh from Software Bisque. TheSky, with its many advanced features has been the choice for Windows users looking for desktop planetarium software for the past several years. As a Macintosh user, I’ve spent several years using Carina Software’s Voyager II, (Voyager 3 is being released as this article goes to press). It’s tough to teach an old dog new tricks, but Software Bisque, with their first Macintosh release, has a stellar performer.
The interface is remarkably Mac-like—it doesn’t feel like a Windows port. The screen redraws are quick, and keyboard navigation is fairly predictable. There are a few quirks. Hitting the return key doesn’t always activate the highlighted button, and changing the local time is tedious. I would also like to see an object that has been located in the find dialog to be centered in the display with a second hit of the return key. The sky nomenclature is Software Bisque all the way—too artsy for someone heavily indoctrinated by Wil Tirion’s standardized cartography. But TheSky doesn’t disappoint here either, offering user customized icons for any or all of the icons representing non-stellar objects. In about an hour or so, I had a fully customized version of the software running on my G3 Power Mac, and if you will trust the eye of the beholder, the display is stunning. The realism of the computer generated sky is deftly controlled by the preferences dialog and stellar options setup. You can effectively set almost any parameter to create a very personalized desktop planetarium experience. Of course Hipparcos, Tycho, and Hubble Guide Star catalogs are included, as well as several deep sky databases from the common NGC and IC to the esoteric (Abell to Zwicky).
I haven’t attempted to link the software to my SkyCommander digital setting circles yet, but the process seems fairly straight forward, and a night vision mode is a click away. Version 5.05 for Mac has all of the functionality of Level III for Windows, with additional Level IV databases and 70,000 thumbnail images. CCDSoft, TPoint, and Orchestrate integration are not included... yet. Printed star charts can also be tweaked to the user’s preference. I’ve included a sample—a finder chart for the Twin Quasar Mirage in Ursa Major (Q0957+561AB), 15 minutes NNW of NGC3079 (located just above and to the right of the diamond shaped asterism). There are some printing quirks also, most notably dropped stars, but I have to keep reminding myself this is a first release.
I’ve been a tried and true Voyager user since its inception, but I really like TheSky for Mac. It’s hard to believe, but with a new platform entry product, Software Bisque has upped the ante for all Mac desktop planetariums.

Back to top..................Back to Articles


RealSky ....................February 1999
A few months ago Tom Clark asked me to review the nine CD-ROM RealSky software package for the Northern Hemisphere (North Celestial Pole to 15 degrees South). Tom knows I’m always messing with the latest sky atlases and I’m a certified (certifiable?) Macintosh computer geek. So, once I got home I copied the RealSkyView application onto my G3 hard disk, read the miniscule manual and Read Me file, and I was soon somewhere in the virtual deep sky between computer code and the digitized Palomar Observatory Sky Survey (POSS).
The original digitized sky survey was compressed by a factor of 10 and required 102 CD-ROMs. Even though the images have been compressed by a factor of 100x on the RealSky CDs, the files are still huge. With an angular resolution of 1.7 seconds of arc and stars to 19th magnitude, a 60 minute square field takes about two-thirds of the 50 Megabytes of RAM I allocated to load images. Any image manipulation quickly runs the memory requirement even higher. The 10-minute default field size for NGC listings available from the view menu typically runs less than 8 Megabytes. The images are strictly black and white, copied from the POSS E band red plates. For someone with a modest CCD imaging capability, a quick comparison of an evening’s work with one of these images could reveal a new comet, asteroid, or supernova. And all of the images are indexed, so a mouse point and click instantly displays the R.A. and Dec. of any object. With the included RealSkyView software you can smooth, sharpen, rotate, alter brightness and contrast, zoom and pan, create histograms of brightness levels, and create user-customized image lists. You can also display the images as negatives and print them, but with a LaserWriter the pixelation can become a little obvious. RealSky can also be accessed directly from TheSky software (and as soon as it’s available for Macintosh I’ll give it a go).
Dennis di Cicco, Associate Editor of Sky & Telescope, calls RealSky, “A dream come true.” I’m a little less optimistic. I have a reasonably powerful computer, and I still felt like the RealSky images were pushing the envelope. If I had a CD tower I could load all of the CD-ROM data at once, but I don’t think that’s the whole problem. I know there is a tremendous amount of data in all of those files, but it just feels clunky to me. There is information here that is important for comet hunters… but this is far from being a desktop planetarium, and not hardly the real sky unless you see in pixelated, red sensitive, black and white, one-degree square maximum images. Most of the brighter diffuse and planetary nebulae are overexposed—galaxies seem to have survived the compression algorithm. There’s no simple find command, and the constant CD switching reminds me of the old floppy disk shuffle days—on steroids.
My recommendation—don’t buy this software to use as a star atlas. Unless you live north of latitude 85 degrees, you’re going to need to buy the Northern and Southern Sky sets, a cool $450 investment for 18 CDs. If you’re searching for Near-Earth Asteroids, want to name a comet, or become famous for finding some faint, whatever, this software could be an absolute necessity. If you just want to peruse the digitized POSS for pretty pictures, you probably can save a small fortune by buying a book of RealPhotos…
RealSky for Windows requires a 486/33MHz or above, Win 3.1 or above (Win95 recommended), 16Megabytes of RAM or more, and a 2X CD-ROM drive. For Macs
A PowerMac is recommended with System 7.5 or above, 16Megabytes of RAM, and a 2X CD-ROM drive.

Back to top..................Back to Articles

When you speak the language of the stars, speak softly... ...................April 1996
In the beginning... God created Heaven and Earth... so it would seem the observing field was first, and then came the star parties.
Winter Star Party, Texas Star Party, Stellafane... like running the bases, you keep returning home. I call it star party inertia, rocket fuel for amateur astronomers. Where have we come from? Where do we go from here? Looking back, and then ahead, the circle seems nearly complete – or perhaps it is only a distortion of my perspective. Let me explain.
About thirty years ago, the amateur astronomy community was very different. We hadn’t put a man on the Moon yet, Voyager had yet to be launched, and ground based astrophotography had not yet been introduced to computer image processing. I was fortunate enough to live in Florida, where launches from the Cape were regularly visible. There was no Nintendo, only five or six channels on TV (three came in good), and air-conditioning was limited to room units (usually Mom and Dad’s bedroom). Even from the city (with its mercury-vapor lighting), the skies were a puzzle of scattered stars, numerous enough to get lost in. In the early days of my astronomy career, I navigated those stars with 60 and 80mm telescopes, discovering Messier’s treasures while my desire for a more comprehensive understanding grew. The first glass I polished took nearly two years to complete, (the following year I completed three others). Telescope mathematics, optical configurations, layout and design from rudimentary materials and plumbing supplies, these were sustenance for a hungry mind. While daytime hours were filled with telescope building (after school and homework), my nocturnal self awaited the darkness, armed to the teeth with charts, observing logs, and my trusty refractor telescope. Cloudy nights were an opportunity to catch up on articles and books set aside to be read, to organize my next observing session, or perhaps to evaluate the current figure of the glass I was polishing. There was always plenty to do, and I heartily immersed myself in my after-school education. Any other means to expand my astronomical horizons were investigated promptly. The circle of local ATMs was fairly well connected – I would ride my bicycle across the neighborhood to check out the progress of other telescope makers and optical artisans. When I was finally old enough to drive, I joined the local astronomy club and encountered another inner sanctum of telescope users. They spoke a similar language, but I wasn’t yet privileged to be part of the dialogue on that higher plateau. Years passed and I continued to master my observing skills, but by the time I was ready to be initiated into the inner circle, I left my boyhood home and set out to find my future. Although I took a sabbatical from organized amateur astronomy for a few years, I never lost the desire to spend quiet time star gazing. A little solitude gave me the opportunity to reevaluate which direction I should choose this time around. I had a little more financial stability, a little less time, and an opportunity to awaken an astronomical community that had all but gone to sleep. It was intensely rewarding... I had learned my lessons well. Everyone was invited to the inner circle and encouraged to dine at our richly abundant observing table – the weather was perfect, for two years. Expensive telescopes and other high-tech gear issued forth as if from an endless spring. It was Camelot. Under starry skies we were in harmony with the wonders of the Universe. Together we located hidden celestial treasures, compared the potential of larger apertures, and played the accessory game with gleeful abandon. The camaraderie we shared enriched the astronomy experience. While we were still in our formative years, Halley’s Comet approached. We couldn’t handle the public onslaught – or perhaps we chose not to. And a few years later, the old inner circle effect took hold. There were strangers among us. The weather soured, light trespass tightened its grip, the big toys got too unwieldy, pride crashed head-on with envy, complacency brought about self-importance, and good people started going back to sleep. Elapsed time from Camelot to Lost in Space – about five years.
The next renaissance era has emerged – 10-second TV commercials, laptop computers, the Hubble Space Telescope (with its new specs), space-age technology, information-age statistical data, and electronic age everything . . . From star-hopping to digital setting circles, from modern photographic emulsions to CCD images to computer enhanced conventional slides. From German equatorials to computer-driven alt-azimuth mountings. From Newtonian mirror-optic systems to who knows what? Amateur astronomy has encountered the philosophy of life in the fast lane, but what of the amateur astronomer? You have to decide if you’re in it for the gadgets, for the view, or perhaps, for the bigger picture. Surrounded by all of this high-tech paraphernalia, there is still the need to commune with nature, under the stars, on nature’s terms. We travel longer distances for dark skies and, for those of us who remember, reminisce about the dark skies we left behind. And when we gather under the stars, are we really so different than we were thirty years ago, or even ten years ago? In many cases, sadly, I think we are different.
For the uninitiated, this new renaissance era has usurped much of the wonder and satisfaction of discovery. You can buy your thrills today where not-too long ago you had to earn them. I don’t know if that’s wrong, but I think the sweet taste of victory once you’ve successfully star-hopped through the Virgo cloud can only be truly savored the hard way, one on one, the solitary observer at the helm of his (or her) own telescope. It’s not supposed to be easy, and it’s not supposed to be fast – it’s a learning process that accompanies contemplating the vast space in which we live. We have to look deep if we are to exploit our potential vision. And vision is what it’s all about.
So what have we learned along the way?
There are some aspects of amateur astronomy we can’t control or predict. Comets, meteor storms, supernovae – we are confined to the luck of the draw. Time should be on our side given the numerous apparitions of most celestial phenomena. We have to adopt a wait and see attitude, and we have to be prepared when the time approaches. Weather, on the other hand, is in such a constant state of flux that we probably should be more indifferent about it than we are – many good hours of early morning observing have surreptitiously snuck in under a cloudy evening. The unpredictable celestial event can be one of the most effective means of increasing public awareness, and has been the catalyst of many astronomy careers.
On the other hand, there is much within our control that enhances the time we spend under the stars. First on my list is education. Read – read everything you can get your hands on. Hit the bookstore and the local library, get a magazine subscription, and then start your own library. Learn the language, and climb the ladder – one step at a time. You can begin with the Moon, the planets, constellations, star names, the Messier catalog, and then on to more esoteric deep sky stuff. Don’t forget rainbows, sundogs, haloes, and other atmospheric phenomena. Read about the different types of telescopes and observatories, homebuilt, commercial, and professional. Most magazines do product reviews which illuminate the prospective buyer about accessories, like a Telrad finder, vibration suppression pads, or a Panoptic eyepiece. I’ve always had a particular affinity for maps, so I have several different star charts. The monthly Sky Calendar from the Abrams Planetarium is a good start for beginners – whole-sky planispheres can be found in the center of S&T or Astronomy magazine (but are woefully inadequate). A good set of star charts is a must for the practicing star gazer. And once you’ve seen the light, how best, do you get started in the dark? With both eyes open . . .
If all you ever see of the sky is the view in the eyepiece, your true field of view has been seriously confined. Use your eyes, and when you want a closer look, use binoculars. There’s a lot to be seen at low power. When it comes time for a telescope, define your observing criteria. Refractors and long-focus Newtonians give superb planetary definition. Big apertures discern faint detail in deep sky targets, and folded optic systems travel easily. Watch out for aperture envy, not to be confused with aperture fever. It never ceases to amaze me that once detail is observed in a larger aperture ’scope it becomes discernible in the smaller ’scope – where it was previously unseen. Learn to look. Mirror kits and telescope parts aren’t as inexpensive as they were 30 years ago, and in many cases a fully assembled ’scope can be purchased for less than what it costs to build one. Take your time and make thoughtful choices, a wrong move here and you could end up a strung-out telescope junky. Try not to worry about astrophotography until you’ve spent a year or two under the stars with the telescope of your choice, and then be prepared to go toe-to-toe with Mr. Murphy. No matter what telescope you choose, the site you observe from can set its own limitations. Maybe an observatory, or property 300 miles away, or... Capricious priorities can lead to unusual sacrifices. Big toys cost big bucks – the way to telescope nirvana can cost you dearly – even your vision. You need to keep in touch with your agenda.
When the opportunity arises, observe all of the celestial events you can. Eclipses, planetary oppositions, and meteor showers can be awe-inspiring. Most seasoned observers remember their first view of the Moon, Saturn, Jupiter, or a total lunar or solar eclipse. A view of Saturn’s rings edge-on, or comets colliding with Jupiter could be the beginning of somebody’s long journey into the night.
Once you’re ready to take the plunge, should those first few steps be a solitary journey, or a group experience? It’s your choice. Many people find the quiet isolation under a starry sky restful and thought provoking. Others choose to celebrate the cosmos and share the incomprehensible with everyone around them. Attitude, specifically the been there, seen it, done it, mentality, needs to be put away for good. We only get to see little bits of the heavens at a time, never all at once. So we learn something new each time we look. Patience and motivation are virtues of all real amateur astronomers. Whether you plod along methodically through your star charts or observe by the seat of your pants at light speed, the stars will always be there for you. You’re likely to encounter ATMs and Power User types along the way, they’re people too, though they may march to the sound of a different drummer. Astronomy clubs and star parties add more personalities to the idea bank, and a little hand-holding (without being pushy) has helped many of us to avoid reinventing the wheel. Tread cautiously when things turn political – what bothers me most is how we complicate things we should simply enjoy. Somewhere along the way, each of us makes our mark, however small (or considerable) it may be, our personal contribution to the bigger picture. And we should not neglect the opportunity to share our enthusiasm with younger minds, thirsty for knowledge and primed for the unknown. They are our real legacy. And when you’ve reached that lofty plateau, you’ve learned the language and paid homage to the dim fuzzies, you’ve earned the respect of your contemporaries... what next? Take a moment, watch a sunset and enjoy the cool breeze and peaceful solitude as night falls and the stars come out over a field full of telescopes. Listen to the quiet chatter as amateur astronomers speak the language of the stars. Take a long moment to look deeply into the eyepiece of a telescope and see something new. Celebrate your humanity, a bright star in the scheme of things most infinite.
We’ve come full circle again – the firmament is still a place of mystery and wonder, part of our home beyond our feeble grasp. Inquisitive by nature, we try...
Have fun, be nice, and remember to keep the vision...

Back to top..................Back to Articles

The Care and Feeding of The Local Group     December 2000
(in the twenty-first century)
The times, they are a changing...
It’s time to look at the future of your hometown, homegrown amateur astronomy club. Time to ask the thoughtful, hard to answer questions. Time to get a handle on what you think your astronomy club should provide. And finally, depending on your motivation, the time to act, or maybe just to enjoy the ride.
What brings us all together? For me, it’s almost primal—the cool dark velvet of night wraps itself around me, while glittering stars and faint fuzzies beckon. Maybe I’ll share a personal insight with a good friend I possibly wouldn’t have met if not for the astronomy club. Of course there’s science, from the weather on Mars to cosmology to the latest telescope technology, but that’s all icing. The cake is much more than science and toys. The cake is why you got interested in the first place. You just have to remember to keep some cake on your plate, because too much icing can make you push the plate away. To paraphrase a good friend of mine, you have to COMMIT ASTRONOMY! Committing astronomy is a personal endeavor first, which often lends itself to the shared journey—that ultimately brings us together under the stars.
What fits? I’m all for keeping our club the right size. Too big and the whole thing is way too impersonal and can be top heavy with bureaucracy. Too small and the whole load is forced upon the few who are committed to keeping the group active. You need a population that can continuously evolve to meet the group’s changing needs without endangering the purpose of the group in the process.
What works?, is dependent on personality types and work ethics. Whether the membership is laid back, energetic, or a haphazard mix, the workload associated with the care and feeding of the club should be interesting and fun. Many members find the teaching element of amateur astronomy particularly re- warding. As a group or on your own, local schools, community colleges, state parks or off-the-cuff neighborhood sidewalk observing can provide astronomically stimulating environments. Sharing your knowledge (whether from years of experience or from reading this month’s astronomy magazine) and a peek at the Moon or Saturn is always well received. Recruiting can be actively pursued, or simply allowed to happen on a more spontaneous level. The atmospheric environment provides additional flavor to the soup. Foul weather, light pollution, and blood-sucking mosquitoes can put a damper on outdoor dark sky observing. In the wilderness we’re confronted with wild and woolly night critters—including the four-wheelin’, rifle totin’, drunken redneck. Observing from a secure, locked site solves some problems but can accidentally lock out the keyless membership at times. On-site electric, rest rooms, and cell phones are desirable amenities when you can find them. But if you want to observe faint fuzzies, you gotta go where the sky is dark, and you have to be tough. Waiting out the early evening rain can sometimes yield hours of after midnight observing. At remote sites, the best observing happens after most people have gone home. Set your alarm for three in the morning and get ready for a whole new experience. Personally, I can take a little rain if you can just find a way to keep the mosquitoes to a minimum! A place to meet can also be a place to eat. My motto at most Group gatherings is, “Astronomy, gastronomy, whatever...” Road trips like shuttle launches or joint ventures with neighboring clubs are another source of high-octane fun.
What is a typical astronomy club member anyway? Percentage wise, they comprise less than 1/3 of the amateur astronomy community at large—the learned the hard way, hard-core amateur, the telescope nut, the born again astrophysicist, the entertainer (and his accompanying entourage of groupies), the armchair general, and the I’m just happy to be here amateur (peaceful coexisters and peepers—clubs need as many of these as they can get, they have a tendency to go hard-core). Then there’s the loner, the interested bystander, the uncommitted telescope buyer, and the un-amateur (professional doctoral types, some retailers). Who’s left over accounts for the majority of astronomy club turn-over. People who never really give themselves a chance. Some expect to start at the top, others try to purchase the vision of experience. It just doesn’t work that way. The median age of the amateur astronomer indicates we’re graying as a group, the high cost of entry level astronomy and the need for a secure environment for kids are contributing factors. Do we just acknowledge this or do something about it?
Technology offers us a two-sided sword. You can read this article on the internet, so why bother with a newsletter? CCD imaging seems almost foolproof when compared to classic film astrophotography. Digital setting circles and GoTo drives promise to magically eliminate the celestial navigation learning curve. But what happens to the sense of adventure, the pride of discovery, the development of skills and character that result from patient determination, hard knocks, and rich experience? Are we destined to become the technologically elite, isolated by our own arrogance? Or will there only be back-yard astronomers, extended-weekend warriors, traveling starparty crashers and event chasers?
Can astronomy clubs survive? Should they? We drive miles and miles each year to sites that are succumbing to urban sprawl and light trespass. The legacy we leave the next generation of amateur astronomers is under siege. If we can just make sure our kids can look up and see the stars, maybe astronomy clubs will take care of themselves. The future is still up to us.
When was the last time you saw the Milky Way blazing high overhead?
...cake...

Back to top..................Back to Articles

Watchers of the Skies
by John Dobson, 1983
One of the problems of human knowledge is that the world which we see from the surface of this planet on a sunny day bears almost no resemblance to the universe at large. Our Earth is made of iron and rock, but the universe as a whole is mostly hydrogen. The actions which we see on the surface of this Earth run mostly on sunlight, but the universe runs on gravity. What we see here are continents, oceans, rivers, lakes, mountain ranges, forests, tundra, and prairies. But the universe at large is mostly gas, partly condensed by gravity to galaxies and stars, and lightly sprinkled, here and there, with interstellar dust. The dust is made from hydrogen in the bellies of the stars, and scattered through the galaxies by the explosions and the stellar winds of stars much bigger and much hotter than our sun. But the dust is scarce, and, like our bodies, the rock on which we live is made of these dusts. It is a collector’s item. The heavier elements, such as iron, have sunk to the center, overlaid with the rocks of the mantle and the crust and a thin veneer of water and gas. Since the age of this museum piece is pushing five billion years, by now the water soluble compounds of the surface rocks have leached into the water layer, making the oceans salty. The saltiness of our blood is the saltiness of the ancient sea, some four hundred million years ago ...we can think of our bodies, even now as little bags of sea water, hung out on a clothesline of bone, gulping oxygen directly from the gas layer above us, and shambling out across the rocks to gaze with starry eyes, through the blackness of night, at the vast expanse of the universe beyond.
Even the oxygen we breathe is freed by sunlight, through the instrumentality of our photosynthetic relatives, first by the blue green algae in the sea, and now by the green leaves of the forest. Even the rain is driven by sunlight. But the universe at large has a reducing atmosphere, and it is without rain and without sunlight. It is very cold, very dark, and very lonely, trying desperately to fall together by the seemingly inexplicable attraction of the particles for each other. Even the radiation of the sun is driven by this attraction. It has pushed the central temperature up to some fifteen million degrees Celsius, and it is only because its gravitational collapse has been slowed by the nuclear fusion at its core that the sun has bathed our Earth with its warming rays for nearly five billion years. Only this delay has made possible our long genetic development till we were able to climb out of the water and gaze in wonder at the starry sky of night. Although we, as living organisms, owe both our existence and our long genetic development to the sun, its dazzling brightness prevents us from seeing the universe by day. The blueness of the daytime sky is not the color of the air, but simply the shorter wavelengths scattered from the sunlight by the gas layer above us. And that gas layer by night, unlit by the sun, is sufficiently transparent so that through it we may gaze into the far reaches of the universe. Because of this unfortunate discrepancy of what we see here by day and what we can see by night, some of us, with the willingness to serve, have banded together to help make it possible for other human dwellers on this planet to see the universe at large through telescopes at night...
The human population of this planet now numbers in the billions, so the problem of making it possible for all those people to see and understand the universe in which they live has reached staggering proportions. If there were a thousand groups dedicated to this service, or a million amateur astronomers, worldwide, they might tackle the problem with some hope of success. Billions of eyes are waiting. Let those who are willing do what they can! ...some might wonder why amateur astronomers go to such trouble and expense to transport telescopes so far from park to park. It is simply because the universe at large can no longer be well seen from the cities. Just as the Sun’s light is scattered by the atmosphere by day, just so the light from cities is scattered by the atmosphere by night, making it virtually impossible to get a good view of the universe beyond the confines of our little solar system where the objects are both close and lit by the Sun. In order to see into the depths of the universe, it is necessary to get both the telescopes and the observers far from the glow of city lights ...but seeing alone is not enough. It is only a beginning. We must also understand what we see, and that has a history. Understanding rests on a foundation of concepts and information coming down to us from the past, albeit not the very distant past. It is not from the first few hundred million years after we came ashore in the swamps to look around, because in those distant days and nights the concepts which we feared, and the information which we gained, could not be transmitted from generation to generation ...the written word, by which concepts and information are largely transmitted in what we proudly think of as the Age of Science, are only a few thousand years old ...our great gain in those earlier times was in our genetically transmitted capabilities. By the early demise of those with poorer eyes, we gained visual acuity, and by the early demise of those with smaller brains, we improved our capacity to understand. It is that capacity which sets us apart amongst the watchers of the skies.

Back to top..................Back to Articles


(This was excerpted from a letter written in response to a request from Shanghai for information about John Dobson and the Sidewalk Astronomers to be published in a magazine in China.)
Dobson's talk at Kobau was much like his talk at Council Bluffs. He began with some questions (see below) and continued with the suggestion that the first cause of our physics might be apparitional, that through the uncertainty principle we may be mistaking what is beyond space and time for what we see as if in space and time, and that inertia, electrical charge and gravity might be the changeless, the infinite and the undivided (beyond space and time) showing through in our physics much as the length and diameter of a rope show through in the snake for which the rope has been mistaken.
The subject was so unorthodox that Dobson expected the audience to walk off, and when he expressed surprise that they hadn't, some one in the audience replied, "There were no leaks in your logic".
November 1988
How much are we willing to take for granted?
Newton's laws of motion take inertia for granted. Quantum electrodynamics takes the electrical charge for granted. Gravitational theory takes gravity for granted. And the currently "orthodox" cosmology takes the Big Bang for granted. But how much are we willing to take for granted? Why should matter show inertia? What is it that it should resist every change in its state of motion? And why should the minuscule particles be electrical and fall together by gravity? On what grounds can we take all this for granted? And the currently popular Big Bang cosmology seems to take for granted that in the absence of the Universe, and in the absence of space and time, there would be nothing. But is it a warranted assumption? That is the question which I asked Allen Sandage at Pomona in the summer of 1987. I suggested that it seems warranted to assume that in the absence of time, there would be the absence of change, and that in the absence of space, there would be the absence of smallness and dividedness. But that leaves the possibility that underlying what we see there might be the changeless, the infinite, the undivided, which seems a long way from nothing. Sandage was unwilling to discuss the problem; so we let the matter drop. But several months later, when Stephen Hawking was in Berkeley, I had the opportunity to ask him whether he thought there was any observational evidence on one side or the other. He replied that he wasn’t sure that it was a meaningful question. However I think it is a meaningful question, and that the evidences are there in our physics. I further think that the only reason we don't see these things as evidence is because they are the very things we have taken for granted. I see inertia as evidence that the changeless underlies what we see, and I see electricity and gravity as evidence that it is also infinite and undivided. Please note that I have made no supposition as to what it might be; only what it might not be if not in space and time.
John Dobson
May 5th, 1988

Back to top..................Back to Articles