Archive for the ‘comets’ Tag
Andrew’s wonderful Christmas present to me…
I have to trumpet the best present I’ve ever longed for and received – a brand spankin’ new telescope! And not just any telescope, my own Celestron NexStar 130SLT! I’ve always lusted after one of these, and now, I OWN ONE. Just in time to see Comet Lovejoy! I’d like to take it outside tonight, as it’s nearest to the earth, but we’ve had some snow and I don’t know if the sky’s going to clear in time. That, and it’s WELL below freezing tonight. Still, that’s the optimal time to gaze at the heavens, because there won’t be any of that nasty haze interfering with the brilliance of the winter nighttime sky.
For those of you who own or have access to telescopes, the best thing about them is how it changes your perspective on what’s up there in the nighttime sky. I had my first one at 12, but then it fell off the roof when I was trying to focus in on Comet Kohoutek. That ended that. Over the years I’ve belonged to astronomy clubs and peeked through fellow amateur astronomers. Now, for the first time in years, I have one that’s powerful enough for me to zoom in on not just the planets, but Messier objects, novas, galaxies, double stars – the works!
My husband used to look up at the evening stars with his father back in his native England. Their back garden in Launceston, Cornwall offered a terrific view, since it was near the top of a hill, without much to obscure the stars. After life at 40.7127° N, 74.0059° W for years, I had a chance to see things at 50.6350° N, 4.3540° W. My eyes, formerly trained to look at my favorite celestial objects at a lower latitude now had to focus somewhere else. That only took a moment, but it also meant that I couldn’t see a few constellations I’d grown used to seeing skirting the horizon at my latitude.
It’s fair to say Andrew’s into this scope just as much as I am. He’s a photographer and this Celestron has the capability for nighttime picture taking. I personally can’t wait to get the thing outside and pointed upwards. Truth be told, I don’t care where I look. There’s sure to be something wonderful when I peer into the eyepiece, and I can’t imagine being disappointed at what I’ll see.
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Credit: ESA, Artist’s Impression
OMG, this is a BFD!
I, along with everyone else who keeps their eyes on these things, shouted a big hoot of delight this morning when I saw Philae Lander put on a real showstopper of a landing on a duck-shaped comet named 67P/Churyumov-Gerasimenko just after 11:00 am, EST in the USA. Released from Rosetta, it marked a real victory for a huge gamble that will reap large rewards for anyone who’s interested in the miracles of our solar system. I’m sorry, but I’m at a loss for words to describe what an amazing accomplishment this for the ESA, for science, and for our futures, so excuse the sap.
The New York Times posted a series of tweets that a very excited Philae, who couldn’t wait to touch down on the surface of 7P/C-G after journeying ten years to get there (do you blame it?). The newspaper also has a series of incredible photos that document the comet as detail its landing place.
What makes this such a special event?
Landing on a relatively small target from a great distance notwithstanding, it’s ESA’s and the world’s first opportunity to scientifically examine, up close, just exactly how a comet operates, what it sees, where it goes and what it does for a living. The pictures indicate that its shape isn’t anything to brag about, but again, it’s the first time anyone has ever set foot on such a heavenly object and it’s a premiere learning experience for all. NASA has also contributed three instruments to the lander mission, so what makes this even better its international, offworld educational opportunity.
Philae’s got a big job ahead of it. With only 64 battery hours to get through its tasks initially, it will depend upon solar batteries to provide it with power until March. That, and it has an awful lot of tweets to send us to let us know how it’s doing!
For a laugh, check out xkcd’s comic on the event.
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Illustration: NASA
Now, doesn’t that sound like a great title for a sci-fi novel?
Actually, this story’s true and it is a great story for a movie.
Way back when Jimmy Carter was president, in 1978, the International Sun-Earth Explorer 3 was launched with the mission to investigate solar wind’s interaction with the Earth’s magnetic field. Later, it was renamed the International Cometary Explorer (ICE) to study comets. In September 1985, it passed through the tail of Comet Giacobini-Zinner, and in 1986 it was tasked with the mission to observe Halley’s Comet. During the same year, three rocket burns put it on a course to position it above the moon on August 10, 2014. With the ICE so near, a space shuttle could snatch it and return it to earth, and NASA had this in mind because it planned to donate it to the National Air and Space Museum.
After a few more missions, it was retired in 1997, although it loops around the sun in a 355 day orbit. It will catch up with and pass the Earth this August 2014. But in 1999, the Deep Space Network was upgraded and the transmitters that communicated with ICE were themselves retired, although no one said this to ICE, who continued its end of the bargain by remaining open to communication. It’s sort of like being kept on hold and waiting forever, without anyone telling you that the person who put you there went home a long time ago, leaving you to listen to horrible Kenny G music in the meantime.
And really, that should have been the end of the story. But it isn’t.
Within the confines of yet another decommissioned icon, an entrepreneurial engineer named Dennis Wingo has managed the impossible. He and his team have begun communicating with ICE once more. Mr. Wingo’s company is Skycorp and it’s located in an ex-McDonalds in a decommissioned Navy base that has been repurposed for nonprofits, academia and small technology firms.
A decommissioned satellite linked with a decommissioned burger factory is kind of cool. There’s something very Max Headroom about it. I like it.
Through Mr. Wingo’s determination, a group of engineers, including those who originally worked on the project, plus a crowd funding site RocketHub, they raised approximately $160,ooo to breathe life in the old gal. And NASA’s doing its part too, donating time on its Deep Space Network to help getting ICE going again.
ICE is still doing its job out there and observing solar flares and other phenomena, as was discovered. So there was great optimism to position it over the moon as originally planned, which now requires 400 pulses to place it over the sweet spot. There’s been a few minor setbacks, but if all goes well, Mr. Wingo and his team are all set to pull ICE into a moon gravity-based slingshot into an orbit around the earth, so it can receive instructions for a new mission.
I have to admit that this story has me cheering. Why should there be a whole pile of forgotten and unused satellites and space paraphernalia after NASA and all the world’s other space agencies no longer need them? It’s an excellent opportunity for others, corporations like Skycorp but also universities and even astronomy and engineering clubs to find other purposes for them? Sure, one can say that leaves opportunities for crimes we haven’t even imagined yet. On the other hand, I’m sticking with the belief that a lot of good can come from that zombie named ICE, and its other colleagues out there.
Just imagine the stories that can be dreamed up from this real-life adventure…
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Who doesn’t have a fascination with comets?
Mercurial, fickle, entirely dramatic in all ways, these nomads of the heavenly sky form bonds with our souls. From expectation to delivery, these babies take years to put in appearances in our nighttime skies, and, like any baby, one never quite knows what to expect until its head pops out.
Example?
Sure, who doesn’t remember Hale-Bopp? Back in my Manhattanite days, I lived a stone’s throw from the Empire State Building. Out my bedroom window, there was the perfect view of H-B in the fading daylight, competing with the city’s electric glow, pulsing with energy and brilliance. I knew just where to look, and trained my eye in that sweet spot until its head poked from behind the dark curtains and the hazy feathers of its tail teased its way into the night. From its heavenly stage, it delivered a show guaranteed to enthrall the most jaded of Broadway critics. And when it departed after its celebrated run, Hale-Bopp imparted the warmest of memories, leaving an unforgettable performance in its wake.
Queen of the Night: Hale-Bopp in 1997
But as fans of ISON know, it ain’t all grand, despite the promises of glory.
My first experience with disappointment, comet-wise, occurred during the sixth grade. For months I climbed up my brother’s ham radio tower to access the relatively lower dining room roof and perched up there, looking for something, anything, in the dusk along the horizon. Nothing. Then bit by bit, tiny wisps of something resembling a pinhead with a tiny thread appeared. Is…that…IT? I remembered thinking, even dragging my mother up there (well, she peeked out of an upper floor window) hoping it grow larger and start wiggling that ginormous tail. But it never did, and eventually it faded, returning to the cosmos from whence it came.
Comet Kohoutek, as promised but not delivered
Let’s jump to 1986. My grandfather, then well into his 80s, used to tell us when he, as a kid, remembered beautiful Halley’s Comet dominating the evening skies, literally stopping people in their tracks to observe its majestic tail. “Oh, it shimmered like you can’t imagine,” he’d say, and in the relative darkness of the area of Pennsylvania mining country where he lived, there were few people who didn’t take in a lengthy stare in wonderment of nature.
So when he read in the paper that he’d still be present for its return, he lit up like the comet he remembered. “You’ll see nothing like Halley!” he promised. “Never thought I’d be around long enough to see it again, but I am, and I can’t wait!”
He shuffled out in the backyard of our New Jersey home, looking up towards the heavens only to see this tiny smudge, barely visible to the naked eye. “Really?” he said, as I pointed it out to him. “C’mon. That’s not it; that’s a plane.” As I assured him that blurry patch was not a plane but indeed the major disappointment of the decade, he sighed and said, “Well, at least I saw the real thing. Shame you won’t,” and went back inside. He’s right, you know, because as much as I’d like to hope I’d be around in 2061, the get-real part of me says I won’t.
What Grandpa saw and I didn’t: 1910 Halley’s Comet
So what other comets lie in wait for us out there? Well, literally dozens of comets are discovered every heart. Most one can’t see without a telescope or a good set of binoculars, but there’s generally a decent selection from which to choose. On October 19, 2014, Mars has a good chance of being brushed by the tail of Comet A1 Siding Spring’s tail – a great event and excuse to beg, borrow or steal a telescope.
And who knows? You might be in for a memorable treat! Cross your fingers and wish upon a star…
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Moon, Stars and Beyond 