Ágætis Byrjun

Big changes have been afoot at Unfrozen Caveman World Headquarters, but in the summer of 2023, that was all still in the future.

The June dark cycle found me tinkering with the idea of a new project, one that I’d skirted around in past summers but had only been confident of in more-recent times: the observation of all of the bright (read: at least 16th-magnitude) galaxies that lie within the figure of the Summer Triangle. There are ulterior motives for this—it wasn’t like I was lacking for projects, with all of the Astronomical League lists I was working on—and so it was a good time to strike on this spark of inspiration. Besides, other than the AL Planetary Nebula project, I didn’t have much other program “work” to do for the summer; the flat galaxies of spring were already past their prime, and the autumn galaxy fields were not yet fully ascendant.

I also had a new bit of equipment that needed testing out: a Sony digital voice recorder, one which would alleviate the burden of serving as both note recorder and Sky Safari/TriAtlas delivery system from my phone. This would be additionally useful in protecting my night vision from the bright opening screen of the Voice Recorder app—even with a sheet of Rubylith over the screen, the phone shifted to red tint, and the screen brightness turned down to minimum, the app’s recording screen was still aggravatingly glareful (?) whenever it was opened. Having the Sony would mitigate the need for the phone to serve double or triple duty, and with a lavalier microphone added, it also gave me better control over the recording quality. This first dark cycle, I would use both phone and recorder to take notes, while I figured out not only the operation of the Sony but how far I could trust it with the precious records of my observations.

I. The first night of the June dark run was to be a short one, with astronomical twilight at 10:31 PM and Moonrise just over three hours later. It also featured the debut of the recorder, as well as the first opportunity to get a feel for the exacting nature of my Summer Triangle task. Complicating matters, the forecast called for the possibility of clouds during the Moon-dark hours. Still, a 1.5-hour round trip was worth it for three possible hours of good observing, and every clear night was one to be savored.

Jerry, Dan, and Colleen ventured up to the crag with me; I arrived as Dan and Colleen were setting up, with Jerry soon after. The accursed secondary mirror on the Obsession took additional time and Jerry’s help (as always, it seemed) to get squared up to the primary, and I was, as usual, the last one in the group ready to capture well-figured starlight. The Obsession made me appreciate Bob the Dob—truly a Stradivarius among Dobsonians—even more than usual, although this observing challenge truly needed the extra grasp of the otherwise excellent Obsession.

Daylight gradually yielded to starry, starry night; the searing temperatures of the day gave way to the relative chill of the twilight air. Overhead, the guardian nighthawks—symbol and mascot of EAS—yielded the sky to nearly-silent bats. Blue became orange became purple became charcoal grey. Science-fiction writers and biomedical engineers and factory workers became the chroniclers of the night, hunters of quarry only a relative handful of humans had ever seen, gatherers of photons from distant, lost corners of the cosmos.

The constellation Lyra lies just to the west of the densest band of the northern Milky Way. It’s only natural, then, that the highest percentage of my Summer Triangle galaxies would reside in the “Vega Corner” of the triangle, and indeed, I spent far more time there than in any other part of the Milky Way for this project. I’d also spent no small amount of time exploring the “Vega Chain” of galaxies, as written about on the Deep Sky Forum nine years past, although the galaxies of that group lay just west of the actual boundaries of the Summer Triangle itself. I’d considered adding them to the project if I had a hard time coming up with enough suitable targets, but for now that didn’t seem to be necessary.

06/10-11/23
LINSLAW POINT
SUNSET: 8:23 PM
MOON: 24 days (rose at 1:46 AM; 36% illuminated)
SEEING: 7
TRANSPARENCY: 6
SQM: 21.46 (Bootes); 21.5 (DB, same place) (1:30 AM)
NELM: not checked
WEATHER CONDITIONS: cool; slight breeze; light dew; temps to mid 50s
OTHERS PRESENT: JO, DB, CH (Colleen)
All observations: 20″ f/4.5 Obsession Dob, 14mm TeleVue Delos (181x, 0.39˚ TFOV) or 7mm TeleVue Nagler (363x, 0.21˚ TFOV) unless otherwise noted

11:29
UGC 11380 (Lyr): Starting off my Summer Triangle project with UGC 11380, which is surprisingly bright and immediately obvious when I first noted its presence in the field. The galaxy is 0.75’ x 0.3’ and elongated very close to due N-S. It lies 10’ N somewhat P an extremely-irritating 6.5-magnitude star, one that’s making it more difficult than it should be to observe the galaxy. In averted vision, there does seem to be some central brightening to the galaxy that’s not quite as apparent in direct vision, although this brightening seems offset a little bit to the S. As with (I suspect) most of these little Milky Way-area galaxies, it’s surrounded by a number of faint stars. 5.5’ N of the galaxy is the middle star and brightest in an arc of three; the arc is 0.67’ long and the three stars are pretty evenly spaced; the middle star, the one that I measured to, is 11.5 magnitude and has a 12.5-magnitude star F very very slightly S by 0.3’; P that middle star by 0.3’ is a 12th-magnitude star. N slightly P the galaxy by 3.5’ is a [mosquito buzzing in my ear] 13th-magnitude star that has another 13th-magnitude star 0.3’ S of it; and then 1.5’ S of the galaxy and very slightly F is a 13.5-magnitude star that has a 14th-magnitude star P very slightly N of it by 0.5’. SF the galaxy by 3’ is an 11th-magnitude star; 2.75’ P very slightly N of the galaxy is a 13th-magnitude star. I think I’m gonna go grab the 7mm Nagler here and give that a spin… this may be too much magnification. We’ve succeeded in removing the annoying 6.5-magnitude star from the field, though. The galaxy is a little more diffuse (it was actually really well defined in the 14mm Delos); here there’s definitely a small elongated core that’s aligned N-S along the major axis, but again, the N end of the galaxy is a lot less defined than the S end. I’m still not picking up a nucleus. That series of faint stars encircling the galaxy is particularly notable on the N and F sides; those are mostly in the 15th-magnitude range. This is a terrific little galaxy for “barely being there”—I could look at these all day/night long.

In the background, Dan was explaining to Colleen how I had left a polarizing Moon filter in the eyepiece at an outreach event at Sheldon High School; I tried showing people Mars in the midst of the Beehive Cluster with the filter in, while wondering why the view was so poor. Not one of my bright shining moments in outreach.

I had started the Sony recorder after the phone’s Recorder app, making sure that I had everything working well enough before beginning my dictation. Getting used to the little recorder was going to take some time, at least as far as using it in the dark. I also needed to find somewhere to keep it while I was dictating. Putting it in my upper coat pocket, where I keep my phone during the same task, seemed dangerous—I tend to lean against the upper edge of my ladder tray when possible, and this might put undue pressure on the fragile-seeming recorder. I kept the lavalier mic clipped to my coat lapel, though, and a listen back (from the comfort of my desk at night’s end) to the recordings I made demonstrated that the entire setup was a purchase that was well worth it.

12:13
UGC 11397 (Lyr): UGC 11397 is quite difficult. This is a small galaxy, no more than 0.75’ x 0.3’. It has a star of 14th magnitude N very very slightly P it, just outside the halo. The galaxy is elongated almost due P-F. It’s quite difficult, yet unmistakably there—when you know it’s there, you definitely see it. It’s visibly irregular in brightness; at times it seems as if there’s a very faint stellar nucleus, but then it also appears that there is a star of 15.5 magnitude just S of it, and that star may be blurring together with the appearance of the galaxy. S of the galaxy is an irregular jumble of (mostly) 13th-magnitude stars; this is 2’ in diameter and about 2’ S (and a little bit slightly F) from the center of the galaxy. 2.75’ almost due F the galaxy is an 11.5 magnitude star; the brightest star in the immediate field is S somewhat P the galaxy by 9’ and is 10th magnitude. In the 7mm, the galaxy has a definite core that is very slightly brighter than the surrounding halo, which itself seems a little broader at this magnification. That star to the S is still mucking up the view, but there may also be a very very faint stellar nucleus visible to the galaxy. This is not an easy observation compared to the others I’ve done in Lyra.

The predicted/possible clouds became definite and certain, drifting through the sky here and there, but they remained sporadic and almost unobtrusive… at least for the region of sky I was sifting through. I’d been wearing my coat since shortly after sunset, but now felt the need to actually zip it up, as the conditions that brought us a relatively-mild day had also given us a night in the mid 50s.

I’d started off the evening by starhopping from Delta Lyrae (and its broad, attendant star cluster Stephenson 1); my next target used the beautiful globular cluster M56 as its leaping-off point. I paused—as one does—to admire the fine globular (a glorious showpiece sight in the 20” scope and 14mm Delos) before trekking northwest to my actual quarry.

12:39
UGC 11428 (Lyr): I starhopped from M 56 to get to this one, the quite obvious but very diffuse and poorly-defined UGC 11428: one of those galaxies that shows right away when it enters the field, despite fading away into the background. It’s 0.75’ in diameter; at 14mm it doesn’t seem to have any real obvious central concentration, although it does appear irregularly bright; it’s very difficult to say if any of that is a definable core. There’s certainly not a nucleus visible at this power. (I don’t want to keep using the word “ghostly,” but it fits, and is less writerly than “phantasmic.”) 2’ SP the galaxy is a 14th-magnitude star that has a 12th-magnitude star 1.5’ S somewhat F it; that star is about 2.75’ S slightly P the galaxy. P somewhat N of the galaxy by 7’ is the brightest star in the field, which is 9.5 magnitude and has P and SP it a semi-ellipse of stars whose major axis runs 2.5’ P-F; analogically, the asterism looks kind of like Zwicky’s Necklace, and it’s as if that 9.5-magnitude star is the “branching” galaxy from the ring of Zwicky’s Necklace in relation to that ellipse. 4.75’ F very slightly S of the galaxy is an 11th-magnitude star, with a 12th-magnitude star S of it by 0.5’; the former also has 1’ N slightly F it the brighter of a close pair, which is 13.5 magnitude; the fainter is N very slightly F it by 7” and is 14.5 magnitude. I suspect the 7mm is going to make this one basically disappear, because it’s so diffuse, but we’re looking for details and we’re gonna get them however we can…. I’m still not picking up any real detail in the galaxy at 363x; I note that we do have some clouds going through every now and then, just as Danko predicted. If the galaxy has a nucleus, I can’t see it. The halo seems more extensive here, perhaps 1.0’ in diameter with the extra magnification and contrast. 

With Dan and Jerry there, I felt no shame in making a Star Trek reference— “drinking the Delosian [Scalosian] water.” Neither of my recorders caught their reactions, although eyerolls are usually silent in any case. I did notice that I had leaned my full weight on the pocket with the recorder in it; a quick check revealed that it was not only okay, but had recorded the previous notes without a hitch.

Back to M56 and then southwest to the fifth-magnitude star HD 178233, a naked-eye speck of light that served as a signpost for my next galaxy.

1:02
UGC 11404 (Lyr): Here at UGC 11404; this is S of the parallelogram of the constellation and is the easiest of the galaxies that I’ve done so far. It’s 0.67’ round, although it has a stellar nucleus that’s so much brighter than the rest of it that all you see at first is the nucleus, so the galaxy appears as a fuzzy star even though the halo is pretty apparent. The nucleus actually overpowers any core that might be visible in it, and the halo is very diffuse and not well defined; in fact, in a lot of ways, the whole galaxy could almost pass as a planetary nebula with a very bright central star. (It may be that the nucleus is an embedded star.) The galaxy is N of a fishhook-like asterism that’s 6’ long, and has its two brightest stars on its P end; the star on the very P end is the brightest in the field and is 10th magnitude; it has one very slightly fainter 1.5’ F slightly S of it, and those lie along the major axis of that fishhook; the asterism runs F slightly S from there and then turns N and then SP: it runs F slightly S for seven stars, hooks N for four, and then curves P from the N-most star. 0.5’ F somewhat N of the galaxy is a 12.5-magnitude star; 1.5’ N somewhat P of the galaxy is a 10.5-magnitude star; there’s a 10th-magnitude star 5’ N somewhat F the galaxy that has an 11th-magnitude star due S of it by 8”; it’s obviously a double star [Milburn 468]. Between the double and the 10.5-magnitude star is a 2.5’ line of faint (15th- or 16th-magnitude) stars that runs N very slightly P-S very slightly F; on its S end it bifurcates, branching SP and SF. This is a galaxy that will definitely take the higher magnification well…. With the 7mm, the galaxy’s halo definitely becomes more noticeable; if I didn’t know better I would almost be inclined to say that’s a star embedded right on top of the galaxy [it is]; it’s so much brighter than the rest of the galaxy that it if it’s a nucleus then it could very well be a very active one. There might be a tiny core there around it, but perhaps the nucleus is drowning it out. There might also be a star just off to the side of the galaxy, off center, because in some moments I’m getting a glimpse that it has due P it a small faint core; I’m going to withhold judgment on that until I can see a picture, but regardless this is the nicest of the UGCs that I’ve done so far this evening.

With Moonrise soon to end the evening, and its imminence already likely to be affecting the observing conditions, it was time to grab one more object, very near to UGC 11404. This was a good thing, as my feet (particularly the unreconstructed left one) were starting to feel the strain of hours on the ladder. NGC 6740 was only 1.3 degrees away; it took less time to starhop to it than to actually spot it in the field.

1:25
NGC 6740 (Lyr): The surprisingly difficult NGC 6740, in the middle of a stream of stars that runs P somewhat S-F somewhat N, and at times this galaxy is even more difficult than any of the UGCs that I’ve looked at so far tonight—the galaxy is very diffuse and poorly defined, and really almost needs averted vision for a decent look. It does have a very slightly brighter but ill-defined core region, and even in the 14mm might show a slightly substellar nucleus. (Getting the really bright star out of the field there will help verify this one way or the other.) I do think there’s a nucleus visible there, although I wouldn’t bet on it. The galaxy is roundish; it’s 0.5’ across, although the halo fades out so gradually that it could be considerably larger. The offending star I referred to lies P somewhat S of the galaxy by about 10’, and is the brightest in the field at 8th magnitude; it has a 10.5 magnitude star 1’ S somewhat F it. The stream of stars that the galaxy lies among extends P somewhat S-F somewhat N for about 8’, and then at its P end, it hooks NP for 3.5’. The galaxy has due P it by 1’ a 13.5-magnitude star that has a 14.5-magnitude star S of it by another 0.5’. F somewhat N of the galaxy by another 1.25’ is a P-F double separated by 5”, and those are 13.5 and 14.5 magnitude, with the brighter one the F-most; that star serves as the P end of the major axis of a little diamond that is situated along that stream of stars; the diamond’s major axis is 2’, minor axis 0.75’, and the two stars along the minor axis are much the brighter (11.5/12th magnitudes) among the diamond’s stars. There almost looks to be another galaxy N slightly P NGC 6740 by 3’, but it’s actually a clump of 15th/15.5-magnitude stars that could also pass as a cluster at second glance; it has its brightest stars on the P side and is roughly triangular; it’s about 1.25’ on a side. In the 7mm, the galaxy definitely has a slightly-brighter core; but doesn’t appear to have a nucleus… actually, there might be a sporadic flicker of a stellar nucleus there. The galaxy’s a little better defined at this magnification, but still one of the more difficult NGCs I’ve observed in a while.

I wondered if there might be some extra sky-crud diminishing the view of the galaxy, or if the imminent moonrise was already playing havoc with it. In photographs, however, NGC 6740 simply seems to be a fairly-difficult object, one whose NGC designation belies its difficulty, among a region of other difficult galaxies. It’s a testament to Albert Marth, the galaxy’s discoverer, that he was able to coax this galaxy from the star-rich backdrop without the benefit of modern equipment.

Although the Moon had already risen, the crag blocked its light well enough, for the time being, that I could gather one last object on which to end the night. I chose another NGC—there were very few NGC galaxies to be found among the borders of the Triangle—one that I’d already taken notes on with Bob the Dob, but one that had a great amount of detail to offer a larger-aperture scope. It was at the opposite end of Lyra, but I’d found it once already….

2:00
NGC 6745 (Lyr): I’ve observed NGC 6745 (the Bird-Head Galaxy) before in the 12.5” scope, so this is a revisit with larger aperture, more magnification, and a purpose. It’s an unusual, almost banana-shaped galaxy, with the “stem” to the N; it curves N-ward, starting SP and then proceeding F and N; just N of the galaxy is a little triangle of 13th-magnitude stars. The galaxy has a brighter central region that runs along the length of it as opposed to a notable core; there’s no nucleus visible (not surprising given that this is a composite of several interacting galaxies, probably a late-stage merger) although there is a “stellaring” (a la Luginbuhl and Skiff) in the N end of it. The object fans out on the SP end; on the whole it’s 1.25’ long, 0.5’ wide on the S end, and tapers to a point at the N end. The overall shape is well-defined except at the S end, where it’s kinda ragged. F very very slightly S of the galaxy by 5’ is a 9th-magnitude star; there’s another 11’ S very very slightly P the galaxy; 2.5’ S slightly P that first 9th-magnitude star is the brighter of a pair, which is 12th magnitude and has a 13th-magnitude star NP it by 10”. We’re gonna go ahead with the 7mm Nagler here; I think it’ll provide a good view. (As I was looking at this area on Sky Safari, I noticed an interesting group P somewhat N of it [PGC 62664] that we’ll take a look at, although I’m not sure how well they’ll show.) At this magnification, that 9th-magnitude star is a real pain in the arse while observing NGC 6745. The object is lumpy at 363x, and definitely has a couple of stellarings in the N half that sporadically flash out. There seem to be three identifiable components: the larger one in the middle F and then the other two, one to the N and one to the S, which are considerably smaller. [PGC 200361, the tiny galaxy just N of the beak, is disappointingly not visible.] This is a fascinating object; in some ways, it resembles Hubble’s Variable Nebula.  There are definitely some darker/less-illuminated striations in the central region that are indicators of the multi-galaxy nature of the object, but these are pretty indistinct and difficult to hold steady in the average transparency.

I did manage to spot the PGC 62664 group, but so fleetingly that I didn’t bother taking notes on it; whether from the Moon-brightened sky or its own inherent difficulty, I felt it better to return to the scene for another look than to take notes on it whole it was barely visible. (Of course, I haven’t yet been able to return to the group; perhaps this coming summer…?)

With moonlight soon to take over the night, I clambered down from the ladder, put the Preciosi and the Nagler back in their bolt cases (to be aired out at home, of course), and began the half-hour disassembly and stowage of the massive scope and its requisite accessories and sundries. But with my project well underway, the drive home seemed to go by in a welter of racing thoughts, and it was several hours yet before I was able to sleep.

II. The next night saw us at the Oxbow, which had a better forecast and (as it turned out) a much larger group of observers. It was a longer drive on a night with a slightly-longer delay in Moonrise—and before a full work day—but starlight was a necessity, and had to be taken when conditions permitted.

I was somehow the first to arrive there at the paved road pullout. Dan and Colleen, Loren, and Jerry arrived in short order, followed by Dale and his brother-in-law Mike, with Robert eking out a space between the other vehicles on his near-twilight arrival. We might’ve had room for one more vehicle, had we needed it, but this was already the busiest I’d ever seen the Oxbow site in terms of cars and telescopes.

Surprisingly, this evening’s setup didn’t require help with collimation—not that the secondary was anything near close to alignment, just that it fell into place more easily and accurately than I was expecting. That accomplished, the rest of setup went quickly, if somewhat sprawlingly: table off the passenger side of the Flex, covered with eyepiece case, toolkit, and winter coat; chair positioned by scope for early-evening showpiece observing; ladder ten feet away out of the swing radius of the scope. More often than not, I used up more room at a given site than the others, although much of this was due to not operating out of the back of my vehicle. (My rabies-phobia kept me from leaving the tailgate of the Flex open for bats to fly into—yes, I know it’s irrational, but a rabid Australopithecus is not a pretty sight. Idea: get a large piece of fabric to use as a curtain over the open tailgate; this would also prevent the Flex headlights from coming on should I need to open a door. [Cartoon Guinness Guys: “Brilliant!”])

My agenda was already set for the summer, and already underway as of the previous night. All that remained was for darkness to overtake us.

I spent the early evening on (as usual) a few of the summer showpieces while waiting for astronomical twilight to end. Unlike some previous sessions, my iPhone apps seemed to be working at the Oxbow this night, which meant that I didn’t really need my iPad (which I always brought along to the Oxbow after having two bad experiences with the phone there). I also had a PDF that I’d made with images of all of the night’s intended targets; because I had no internet access at the Oxbow, I couldn’t access the POSS images from Sky Safari. For observing such obscure targets among the starry reaches of the Milky Way, the POSS images were useful in identifying nearby asterisms in order to locate the actual galaxies I sought (as well as any nearby galaxies I might miss, especially the very faint ones I didn’t expect to see).

But the first part of the evening was something of a failure in terms of finding my quarry—it was valuable in weeding out those targets that were too faint for the 20”, but not so much for actually seeing anything. By the time I actually had a positive sighting, half the night had passed. It didn’t help that conditions were particularly variable throughout the night; Danko had, of course, called this on the money (and Linslaw was expected to be even worse, hence the choice of Oxbow as observing site), but they were still decent enough for what I’d hoped to accomplish. The wind was problematic, though, making it necessary to hold onto the big scope when changing eyepieces, and bringing with it wild fluctuations in the seeing. (I did note afterward that the Sony’s recording had far less wind rumble than that of the iPhone—this might turn out to be a game changer in my transcriptions.)

06/11-12/23
THE OXBOW
SUNSET: 8:24 PM
MOON: 25 days (rose at 2:21 AM; 26% illuminated)
SEEING: 6
TRANSPARENCY: 6
SQM: 21.48; 21.51 (Dan; Bootes) (12 AM) 
NELM: not checked
WEATHER CONDITIONS: cool; windy; temps to low 50s
OTHERS PRESENT: JO, LR, DB, CH (Colleen), RA, DF (Dale), MD (Mike)
All observations: 20″ f/4.5 Obsession Dob, 14mm TeleVue Delos (181x, 0.39˚ TFOV) or 7mm TeleVue Nagler (363x, 0.21˚ TFOV) unless otherwise noted

12:13
ICs 1302, 1303; UGC 11448 (Cyg): Starting tonight in Cygnus, with the IC 1302 trio. IC 1302 is a little fuzzy spot with some slight central concentration visible. The galaxy spans 0.67’ x 0.5’ and is elongated P somewhat S-F somewhat N, with a very slightly brighter core region but no visible nucleus. It has a 12.5-magnitude star on the halo’s edge due S of it and a 14th-magnitude star just outside the N edge of the halo. 4’ P IC 1302 is a smaller galaxy [UGC 11448], which also appears to have a couple of stars bracketing it and possibly a visible nucleus. This smaller galaxy spans 0.3’ x 0.25’ and is not as well defined as 1302; just outside its NF and SF edges are a pair of 15.5-magnitude stars. 9.5’ F somewhat N IC 1302 is a much larger, more diffuse galaxy [IC 1303] that has a 14th-magnitude star on its P somewhat S edge. This one is 0.75’ round and much more diffuse, without much in the way of central concentration. P very slightly N of it by 1.25’ is a tiny triangle of 13.5-15th magnitude stars, and then due N of that little triangle there’s also a pair whose brighter lies 1.75’ from the galaxy; those are 13.5 and 14th magnitudes, with the brighter one closer to the galaxy and the fainter one 0.25’ P somewhat N of it. IC 1302 is the brightest of these three galaxies, despite not being the largest. 3.67’ SF IC1302 is the brightest star in the field, which is 9th magnitude. N very very slightly P the galaxy by 9’ is a 9.5-magnitude star with a 12th-magnitude star SF it by 0.3’; N of the galaxy by 1.5’ is a 12th-magnitude star.  [UGC 11448] has a 13th-magnitude star S very slightly P of it by 2.3’ and a 12.5-magnitude star 1’ S very slightly F. [IC 1303] has a small wedge of six stars 4’ S slightly P it; this covers 1.25’ P-F and 1’ N-S; the brightest star in that wedge is 11th magnitude. Swapping out to the 7mm Nagler (I hate doing this because the wind may well blow the scope off target): IC 1302 is much better defined at this magnification but still does not have a nucleus visible. [UGC 11448] looks somewhat irregular in shape; it’s definitely got either a faint little core or a substellar nucleus, and a couple of 16th-magnitude stars on its NP and SP (to go with the 15th-magnitude stars to the NF and SF). [IC 1303] isn’t really any better at the higher magnification; it’s just kind of diffuse and hard to “dial in.” IC 1302 is probably the “best” of the trio visually. This is an interesting little group up in Cygnus!

With work the next day, and conditions still somewhat deteriorating, I decided to call it a night. I waited until a couple of the others started packing up, so as not to be the only one disrupting the darkness. It was disappointing to have only gotten one set of notes, but one was better than none, and the camaraderie and the starry night—subpar as it may have been by our (unsustainably?) lofty standards—justified the hour-long drive and the exhaustion during an eight-hour shift.

III. It was ten days—the other side of New Moon—before free time and fine sky conditions coincided, by which time we were champing at the bit to get in some starlight. The forecast for Linslaw was a good one; Loren and Dan were game for an observing session; Jerry was wiped out after a day of house painting and errand running.

And yet as we closed on the road up to the crag, a text came from Dan: the guy in the ratty RV was back at our spot, parked right across the area where we normally set up.

Much swearing ensued. Loren pulled up as we weighed our options: drive back to the Oxbow, possibly using the shortcut that we’d seen on the map but had never tried (always an iffy proposition in the dark, which it would be by the time we were underway), use the lower Linslaw site, which was rougher and somewhat lesser to observe from, or go home. We dismissed the latter idea quickly, settling for the lower site–-which Loren and I had never been to.

It may have been our disappointment with the squatter; it might have been any number of factors, but Loren and I spent a frustrating half-hour driving around looking for the road to the lower site. I’m sure we probably passed it a couple of times, dismissing it as too treed-in or too rocky to be the road Dan had described. Finally, as we were ready to give up, and with sunset well past, we spotted Dan’s murdered-out Subaru at the entrance to the road and followed him down to where he’d started setting up.

We were all in a foul mood at having our plans disrupted and our site usurped. It wasn’t just that the guy had made the site unusable for the night—it was that he didn’t respect it the way we did (we had evidence of this), and that there were other sites in the area he could have used for solitude (if that was what he was really after). The crag was uniquely suited to our purposes; he knew he was preventing us from using it. So here we were, at the bottom of a natural bowl, setting up expensive hardware on precariously-rocky ground strewn with the debris of nature-defiling civilization, and there was nothing we could do about it.

Was it somewhat arrogant on our part? Yes. Were we the best caretakers of the crag among those who used it? Abso-f*cking-lutely.

Somewhat fortuitously, I had brought Bob the Dob rather than the Obsession—the bigger scope (and ladder) would’ve been much harder to use on the uneven ground at the lower site. There would be no sitting on the ground here, as there could be at the crag; the sharp debris and rocks would make doing so extremely unpleasant. So I would be saving several of my intended targets for another night, making do with those I could catch at a decent altitude. This was less of a problem than it might’ve been, as I had the remaining Herschels (after the H400 and Herschel II lists) that I could work on, as well as the two higher-declination Messiers that I could finish. In amateur astronomy, flexibility is a necessary quality (both mentally and physically, as the night would demonstrate).

Having spent much of the sunset hour determining a plan of action and driving toward it, we got to work as quickly as we could set up. Naked-eye stars twinkled dramatically; Antares sparkled with every shade of the spectrum. Seeing was… not good. We plowed ahead, refusing to give up, dealing with conditions that were still better than much of the astronomy community would ever have.

06/21-22/23
LINSLAW (Lower site)
SUNSET: 8:27 PM
MOON: 4 days (set at 11:25 PM; 14% illuminated)
SEEING: 5, 6
TRANSPARENCY: 6
SQM: 21.38 (Corona/Hercules; 1:30 AM)
NELM: not checked
WEATHER CONDITIONS: cool, calm; some dew; temps to low 60s
OTHERS PRESENT: DB, LR
All observations: 12.5″ f/5 Discovery Dob, 14mm TeleVue Delos eyepiece (113x, 0.62˚ TFOV) or 7mm TeleVue Nagler (225x, 0.36˚ TFOV) unless otherwise noted

11:06
NGC 6000 (Sco): First target of the night from our first experience here from the lower side at Linslaw. This is a real neck-wrecker right here; I’m down as low as I can go, with NGC 6000 in Scorpius, which is difficult (but not totally impossible) at this latitude.  The galaxy is elongated N-S; it’s 1.25’ x 0.67’ and definitely has a brighter core; at moments in the 14mm, I suspect a substellar nucleus; this is also confusing due to having a threshold-magnitude star (I suspect it’s brighter than that but we’re also dealing with extinction down this low) just outside the NP edge of the galaxy; it’s a little better than threshold, so I’ll say 14.5 magnitude. There’s a 9th-magnitude star SP the galaxy by 3.25’ that has a 13th-magnitude star P somewhat N of it by 1.25’; then 6’ F somewhat S of the galaxy is a 9.5-magnitude star that has a 9th-magnitude star F very very slightly N of it by 2’. There’s a 13th-magnitude star 2’ F the galaxy, and then the brightest star in the field is 14’ P slightly S of the galaxy and 8th magnitude. 

A new one: my phone-app transcriber changed arcminute to “ark manhunt.” After all these years, I’d have thought the thing would have picked up on the word arcminute eventually….

I poked through the list of remaining Herschel objects in the NGC 5000-6000 range, looking for objects sufficiently bright to show detail in the 12.5-inch and the relatively-poor conditions. (The NGC being arranged by right ascension, the 5000-6000 numbers were currently in the best observing position from the lower Linslaw site.) I had long been interested in NGC 6000, as it had stood out on my original-edition copy of Sky Atlas 2000.0 from the late 80s, so it was a no-brainer as a target. My next one was less obvious but seemingly interesting, based on the POSS image:

11:28
NGC 5729 (Lib): Down in northern Libra with NGC 5729; this is still not a particularly easy spot down here, ergonomically. Like NGC 6000, it’s a roughly N-S streak (N very slightly P-S very slightly F); it’s also showing some central brightening along the length—it’s an edge-on spiral, for sure, and may have a stellar nucleus, a very faint one, but it also appears to have some stellarings on the F side; I can’t tell if those are part of the galaxy or if there are some (just-above) threshold stars embedded there. The galaxy’s pretty well defined, 1.0’ by 0.167’; anything more than that it would be a flat galaxy. 7’ S very very very slightly F it lies a 12th-magnitude star; F somewhat N of it by 11’ is an 11th-magnitude star. 10’ N slightly F the galaxy is a 12.5-magnitude star. This one, I think, is going to require the higher mags; it’s actually, you know… that’s a pretty hefty galaxy now that the seeing has settled down a little bit, maybe 1.25’ x 0.3’. 12’ SP the galaxy is the brightest star in the field, which is 9.5 magnitude. Let’s try the 7mm and see what we can come up with, because there’s something interesting going on with that galaxy….With the 7mm, there are definitely stars, at least two, on the F side of that galaxy; my God that darkens the field.  That’s a really interesting galaxy! The 7mm smooths out the brightness gradient in it, though; I’m not seeing the core as distinctly; but there may be three stars on the F side of the galaxy: one just F the middle (that’s the brightest one at 14.5 magnitude), and then one just F the N end and one F the S end. 

Loren was busy checking out various eyepiece views of NGC 4565; Dan had his image intensifier working in the focuser of his 20” Explore.

By now, two of my remaining Messier objects had risen into prime observing position. The showpiece objects often filled me with dread, as there was so much detail to describe; these were two of the most detailed of the lot. I tried with both of them to find a “home” position within each object, a point to use as a reference for the distances and directions of all of the other details, but I’m not sure (judging from the scattershot quality of my descriptions) that I succeeded in doing so.

Deep breath… now describe the indescribable.

12:46
M17; NGC 6618 (Sgr): I was not planning to do Messiers tonight, but I’m gonna go ahead because they’ve presented themselves well, and it’s probably as good a time as any…. M17 looks just as beautiful as ever! It’s considerably bigger than I’m used to seeing it; I haven’t looked at it as much as I should from such a dark site. The very bright ray of the Swan’s “body” is elongated P somewhat N-F somewhat S, with the Swan’s head hooking S from the P end. The dominant, brightest segment of the nebula is about 9’ long and variably thick; in the middle, that segment is 1.5’ thick, and it tapers almost to a point on the F end. From the P end (where it’s about 3.25’ thick at its P-most) it hooks SF and then SP from there. The nebulosity is very sharply cut off on the N side of the ray; there’s not much in the way of nebulosity N of the ray at all; it’s mostly S-ward. From the P end of the ray down to the end of the Swan’s head (or where it’s at its S-most extension) is about 5’; there’s actually a bright star there (the Swan’s Eye, 9.5 magnitude SAO 161357), and the measurement there is from the SP-most edge of the ray to the 9.5-magnitude star. There’s a 10th-magnitude star [SAO 161359] along that arc of the Swan’s neck and head, 2.25’ N somewhat F the 9.5-magnitude star, which is on the the S-most extension of the head and neck; that 10th-magnitude star has an 11th-magnitude star P slightly N of it by 0.67’. Those three stars border the dark nebula that helps define the shape of the neck; it is very opaque and obvious right now, and really jumps out as being darker than the rest of the field; that dark nebula is 1.3’ round and has an extension that runs NP along the N edge of the P end of the the ray. The nebula also has an 11.5-magnitude star 1.5’ S of the 9.5-magnitude star; the 11.5-magnitude star has a 0.75’-diameter patch of nebulosity surrounding it; that patch is slightly separated from the main “mass” of the nebula. The fainter nebulosity streams F somewhat S from the neck region of the Swan, along the S edge of the ray, and then continues out for another 9’; there’s a brighter, S slightly P-N slightly F line of nebulosity between two pairs of stars well off the F end of the ray, to the F slightly S—there’s a 7.5-magnitude star about 15’ roughly along the major axis of the ray from the F end of the ray, and about halfway between that star and the F end of the ray is where that brighter extension (the loop of the “horseshoe” that it used to be called?) runs; it’s kind of a milkier, more-gossamer piece of nebulosity about 6’ long, and (again) has a pair of stars at each end; in both of those pairs, the P-most star is the brighter: the S pair (10.5 and 11.5 magnitudes) is separated by 0.75’ and the N pair (10th and 11.5 magnitudes) separated by 1’, and those pairs are oriented roughly the same: they’re P very slightly N-F very slightly S to each other, and the brighter members of the pairs are about 6.5’ apart. The texture of the ray is pretty impressive; there’s a lot of “crosshatching” in it, and a number of brighter discrete patches, especially one 2’ in from the P end that runs NP-SF and is about 1.25’ x 10”.

With the UHC added… wow! The extension off the F end, the loop of the “horseshoe” in the nebula, just really pops right out now. From the N end of that extension, it curls about 4.5’ P-ward. N of the middle of the ray, there’s another somewhat-detached piece of nebulosity running roughly parallel to the ray; it’s about 3.5’ by 2.5’,with its major axis parallel to the ray, and it has a number of stars embedded in it, five of them in the 10th/11th-magnitude range. The little tuft that is just S of the swan’s head is also much more obvious also now, and then there’s a very slight gap P that 9.5-magnitude star [SAO 161357], and then more of that loop of nebulosity on the P and SP edges of the dark nebula that mark the end of the head or beak. Dark nebulosity runs from the Swan’s neck NP, and then due N from there it spreads out; N-S, it’s about 12’ x 10’. This is a really large, not completely-opaque patch, maybe about 4 opacity (vs. about 5 or 6 for the small patch in the Swan’s head). There is now visible nebulosity N of the ray here, which is at least 18’ end-to-end from the ray all the way F. That’s a real knockout! N of the F end of the ray—and running parallel to it— there’s also an elongated dark nebula that’s particularly obvious; it’s about 6’ long and variably thick (3.5’ on average). I can’t get over how dark that dark nebulosity on the P end is. Wow! that is really something. No matter how many times you look at this nebula you never see it the same way. The cirrussy texture in the ray is especially notable with the UHC. 

Switching filters: the O-III really brings out the nebulosity N of the ray, and from the F end of the ray it “solidifies” the nebulosity out to that N-ward extension. (It’s oriented N slightly F-S slightly P, but we’re just gonna call it the N-ward extension.) The dark nebulosity at the P end is seems much more opaque. Whereas before with the unfiltered view, the ray was kind of the N end of the nebulosity, here it’s almost in the middle, because those bits that the UHC brought out on the N end are much more concrete in the O-III. The nebulosity F the Swan’s head streams out all the way past the F end of the ray. The ray itself is much fatter here, at least 2’ thick all the way along, but (interestingly), its shape is less defined here in this filter; the quality of “rayness” is less distinctive, because the rest of the nebulosity is that much brighter. The portions to the N are still fairly faint, but the stuff trailing F behind the Swan’s head is a lot brighter, and the little tuft S of the Swan’s head is a lot brighter too; in fact, it’s more distinct and more detached from the rest of it.

An incredible object—the best nebula visible from the Northern Hemisphere after the Orion Nebula!

Loren had moved on from 4565, and had gone back to his planetary-nebula list; while I was still describing the Swan sans filter, he was looking at NGC 5620. (“Another one of those stellar pieces of sh!t.”) He followed up with the Trifid Nebula, wanting something more worthwhile than a tiny stellar planetary. Much conversation (and quoting) of Star Trek’s “The Alternative Factor” ensued, for reasons obvious to anyone familiar with that muddled mess of an episode. (Dan somehow found a connection between that and the oft-quoted “Space Madness” episode of Ren & Stimpy. Well done!)

I took a five-minute breather before heading back into Messier notetaking hell; the next one was more difficult to describe simply because the object was more abstract. (OK, it wasn’t “hell,” but it certainly was more demanding than M17. Here, my notes are even confusing, perhaps as a consequence of interpreting them almost six months after recording them.)

1:20
M16 (NGC 6611; SerCau): Northward to the Eagle Nebula and the cluster NGC 6611. The nebulosity, as always, is hazy and almost indistinct, but is much brighter on the NP end, especially in the area of the cluster and SF, where it runs P very slightly S-F very slightly N. The cluster is triangular in shape, pointing roughly N, with a very striking pair of stars on the middle of the P side; the brighter of that pair is S very slightly F the fainter by 0.5’; nebulosity extinction notwithstanding, those are 8th and 9th magnitude; the 8th-magnitude star also has 10” NF it an 11.5-magnitude star; the more-N of the pair also has a 12th-magnitude star 9” F it. 2.5’ N slightly F the fainter of the pair, the 9th-magnitude star, is a 9.5-magnitude star that serves as the N-most vertex of the cluster; halfway between and just F the 9th- and 9.5-magnitude stars is the P end of an arc of five stars that get brighter as they trail F-wise, with the brightest star (of 10th magnitude) on the F end; that arc spans 2’. SP the 8th/9th-magnitude pair is a scalene triangle of three stars whose two on the S end are both 10th magnitude (the third, to the NF, is 10.5); those two stars are 6’ from the 9.5-magnitude star; the P edge of the cluster runs S somewhat P-N somewhat F up to that N-most star [which isn’t really the N-most star in the cluster, as there’s another due P it by 1.75’; I’m sticking with that appellation simply because that’s how I referred to it in my notes], and then runs SF from that N-most star down to a 9th-magnitude star 5’ from the N-most, and 1.5’ SP that star is another 9.5-magnitude star. The F side of the cluster is the richer, with that arc of five on the N end; between that and those two 10th-magnitude stars on the SP end is the richest region of the cluster. There’s also a little knot of stars 2’ F that bright (8th/9th-magnitude) pair on the P edge. From the N-most star in the cluster 7’ F very slightly N is a small not-quite-equilateral triangle, a nice little isosceles triangle whose stars are all 11th magnitude. And 13’ N very slightly F the N-most star in the cluster is the brightest star in the field, which is 8th magnitude. Perhaps 35 stars are within the cluster, with an overlay of about a dozen stars of mags 8-10 over a bed of fainter ones.

The brightest part of the nebulosity runs about halfway between the N-most star in the cluster and an 8.2-magnitude star that is 15’ S slightly F that N-most star; the nebulosity spans 14’ SP-NF and is 6’-8’ wide along its length. On the S side of that strip of nebulosity, there’s also a right triangle of stars whose long non-hypotenuse side runs parallel to the nebulosity; this triangle includes that 8.2-magnitude star as the short-side vertex. The two S vertices of the triangle are about 7.5’ apart, without much between them—there aren’t a lot of stars along that S edge of the cluster triangle: the two stars on the SP end and the two brighter ones on the SF end are pretty much the entire obvious stellar population there; there are a couple of fainter stars on that side, but little else. From the SP end of the cluster, just S of those two stars on the SP end, is a vague dark patch that bleeds into the brighter background. The nebulosity runs up into the cluster triangle, especially on the S and F sides. There’s also a dark patch off the NF corner where that little arc of five is, and the N-most star; there’s a 3’ round vaguely darker patch, and then P the bright pair, there’s also a patch that’s not quite as dark but is roughly the same size: about 3’ round. Let’s see what we get with the UHC…. 

Oh, wow! That is a huge difference! The nebulosity really leaps out now; that long strip has (especially on its P end) some vague dark injections in it—on the P end of that nebulosity, especially, there’s a series of abutments into the brighter background. The F side of the triangle is almost completely black between that arc of five and the little triangle there; there’re a couple of fainter stars, and then there’s an almost-triangular jut that roughly follows the F side of the triangle, and then down to the two stars at the S end of that side, and then goes N somewhat F from there, so it’s kind of a triangular bay, with its N side about 4’ wide and narrowing down to a point by the F side of the triangle. There’s also an impression that, 7’ N somewhat P the N-most star in the cluster, there’s some vague very very indistinct brightness there, and the nebulosity also spreads from the N-most star P-ward; those dark round areas (the one P the bright pair and the one F the N-most star) are much more obvious here in contrast; even though the one F the N-most star is part of the aforementioned dark triangle/bay. That’s really standing out in the UHC, especially in averted vision. S of the F side (the two brighter stars on the S end of the F side of the cluster triangle, and particularly the more S of those two stars), there’s an irregularly-round dark patch, maybe 1.75’ P-F by 1.0’ N-S, [so exactly not entirely unlike being round] that is set in contrast to the bright nebulosity; that’s probably the most obvious of all of the dark features there in terms of contrast with the nebulosity [This dark patch is the most obvious part of the Pillars of Creation.]. I’m not seeing anything resembling the Pillars of Creation or anything like that. [Oops!!] The bright strip of nebulosity expands to about 19’ long and then perpendicular-ward to that, it extends up past the N-most star in the cluster, spanning about 14’. 

With the O-III filter in place, that little 1.75’ x 1.0’ dark patch is just the N tip of a darker wedge that juts into the bright nebulosity from the SF; it’s the most-opaque part, and becomes fainter as it extends SF. [Again, the Pillars of Creation.] The visible extent of the nebula is actually smaller in the O-III, than in the UHC; it’s reduced in size but considerably brighter. The NP edge of the nebulosity is also where there are more of the “squiggly” vague dark markings jutting into the brighter nebulosity. I’m not really getting a sense that the O-III filter is actually the best filter for this… I’m actually surprised that there’s less visible extent to this than before; even the dark jut between the N-most star in that little triangle, the dark triangle that juts in from the N, doesn’t seem to have the presence that it did, although the bright nebulosity does loop up toward that little triangle a little bit. I also get a sense that the 1.75’ x 1.0’ bit of dark nebulosity that I mentioned (the one that’s S of the F edge of the cluster) connects up very, very faintly to the dark patch that’s jutting in from the N and NP edge of the bright strip, so that kind of cuts across the bright strip although it’s definitely less opaque in the middle. Although it’s still a little less exciting than I’d hoped, this is a better view of the Eagle than I’ve seen before.

By the time I’d gotten the UHC in place, I commented that “…my arse is starting to become one with the chair.” Oh, the humanity!

At about that same point, Loren and Dan started to tear their gear down. Loren had finished a productive night on his planetary nebula list, despite his annoyance at the more-stellar objects on it. And after finishing a second “major” Messier object in a row (and with work again in the morning) I was ready to call it a night as well.

What had started with anger and frustration had finished with four more objects in the books and the sense of calm exhilaration that came from hours spent peering into the cosmos. We’d made the best of the situation and the sky conditions—which, after all, were still vastly superior to anything I could’ve imagined while observing under the dismal grey night skies of Cincinnati so many years before. The next time out would undoubtedly be under better circumstances, but we would accept what the sky offered to us.

IV. The last night of the June dark-sky run was the following Saturday night. I had somehow survived the work days after the previous night and had rested up enough to make one final journey out before the beginning of another week. This was the last night of the cycle that I would be willing to observe; starting off a new week in a sleep-deprived state wasn’t something I would do (it was unfair to my coworkers, among other reasons).

Mark was already there at the site, getting his astrophotography gear online; Dan arrived somewhat after me. The conditions seemed a bit less than usual, even before it got dark; there was some visible marine layer to the west and south, and traces of wispy cloud splotched the sky here and there. Still, Danko had given assurance that this would be a solid night, and while not perfect, it would probably shape up to be usable for all of our individual agendas.

We had about three hours of darkness between Moonset and dawn breaking. While not much time, it would be sufficient for five or six small Summer Triangle galaxies. After wrestling the secondary collimation into a state of acceptability (and finishing with the easy primary alignment), I sat back and observed the Moon and the visible planets (Saturn, Neptune) for a while, then prepared to strike into the Summer Triangle.

I don’t recall what the issue was at this long remove from that night, but the upper end of the Obsession was heavier than usual. I checked everything I could think of that might cause an imbalance; if I found the reason, I don’t remember it. (I’m quite sure that I did.) Whatever the case, Dan had a solution: a heavy magnet set, adhered to the Obsession’s steel mirror cell. After a moment’s adjustment, the scope moved freely and stayed put when I let it go.

One more crisis arose that was also entirely my fault: while getting the ladder in position to start tracking down my first target, I had forgotten the items in the ladder-top tray. As the ladder’s feet left the ground, I heard something hit the ground with a plastic crunch: my new voice recorder.

The amount of profanity that I’d already used during setup had been Guinness-Book worthy; it escalated to something else altogether as I picked up the recorder from the rocks and dust. No-one who heard it that evening could have been left without a sense of awe at the wonders of the English language; even the father in A Christmas Story would’ve placed his hat over his heart in reverence. This was truly a torrent of verbal filth for the ages, a “Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God” of the most profane verbiage ever spoken in proximity to science.

I turned the recorder over, brushing it off and checking for breakage. It seemed to be OK; I did a quick test recording, which sounded (without headphones, at least) as if nothing was amiss. At least for the moment, my fears—and the geyser of profanity—appeared to have been unwarranted.

Soon enough, the Moon made contact with the western horizon. I watched it disappear from the ladder, climbed down, repositioned the ladder (checking first that nothing was left at the top!), and set off for my first galaxy of the evening.

06/25/23
LINSLAW POINT
SUNSET: 8:28 PM
MOON: 7 days (set at 12:38 AM; 48% illuminated)
SEEING: 7
TRANSPARENCY: 6
SQM: 21.26 (Corona Borealis); 2:30 AM
NELM: not checked
WEATHER CONDITIONS: cool; slight breeze; light dew; temps to mid 50s
OTHERS PRESENT: DB, MW
All observations: 20″ f/4.5 Obsession Dob, 14mm TeleVue Delos (181x, 0.39˚ TFOV) or 7mm TeleVue Nagler (363x, 0.21˚ TFOV) unless otherwise noted

1:48
NGC 6792; UGC 11430 (Lyr): NGC 6792 is probably just outside the Summer Triangle, but it is the largest and most impressive of all the galaxies that I’ve done in that vicinity. The galaxy is oriented S slightly P-N slightly F; it’s about… wow, 1.75’ x 0.75’, with a diffuse but reasonably well-defined halo and a small brighter core; I’m not picking up a nucleus at this magnification. The galaxy is distracted from by a 10.5-magnitude star 1.5’ NP; that star has a 14.5-magnitude star NP it by 0.3’. S slightly P the galaxy by 3.67’ is a tiny triangle of stars, oriented P slightly N-F slightly S, whose N edge consists of three 13th/14th-magnitude stars, of which the brightest is the one in the middle and which only has one other star, which is the SP vertex; the triangle is 0.5’ around (I know it’s a triangle.) The galaxy is definitely the most impressive thing in the field; the 10.5-magnitude star NP it is either the brightest or the second brightest in the field (if it’s second it’s only slightly, to a star that is NF it by 9’). The galaxy also has a 15th-magnitude star along its major axis to the N, 0.67’ from the center.  There’s another galaxy [UGC 11430] in the field that is 12’ minutes N of 6792 and is a small, maybe 0.5’ circular spot. It’s a UGC, I know that; it’s quite faint and difficult to observe, because it has a 13.5-magnitude star on its N slightly F side that’s very distracting. This galaxy is diffuse and poorly defined, without much in the way of any central brightening at all, so it is not an easy target. With the 7mm Nagler, there is a very, very faint hint of a nucleus in 6972, but it’s kinda suspicious; I’m not sure it’s real. [Photos show an embedded star just SP the nucleus.]. That is an impressive little galaxy up there, all told. The other galaxy doesn’t really show much else, it’s still just there; that star on the edge of it is a real annoyance, and believe me, I know annoyances. But NGC 6792 is going to be hard to beat for galaxies within the Summer Triangle, I think. 

The POSS plate for NGC 6792 is an interesting one. The 10.5-magnitude star 9’ NF the galaxy is itself bracketed by two small galaxies, to the S and NF; these showed no identifications that I could find in SIMBAD. [I put these two galaxies to the test via the Deep Sky Hunters mailing list; Bruno Alessi identified the larger galaxy as GLADE+ 18101632, while Kenneth Drake discovered them in the Mitchell Anonymous Catalogue as MAC 1921+4313 and MAC 1921+4314. So thanks to Kenneth and Bruno for the research! Although my suspicion is that these are well beyond reach of the 20”, I’ll need to make sure of this myself….]

I wasn’t finished swearing for the night, although much of what followed was under my breath—I spent much of the next forty minutes struggling to find NGC 6819, the Fox Head Cluster, which was the signpost for my next group of galaxies. I’d observed the cluster a number of times, but never as close to zenith as it was now. And to make matters worse, the Obsession suddenly stopped moving, refusing to budge toward the cluster no matter how I tried.

Now what? My portable battery wasn’t the problem; it was in front of the telescope. The cable that ran from it to the dew heater, which kept my eyepieces from steaming up (due to proximity to my eyeball) as I observed, wasn’t taut yet, and would’ve pulled away from the scope in any case, rather than preventing the big scope from going higher in altitude. And my equipment kit was on the ground under the battery, leaving nothing in the way that could’ve prevented the scope from moving.

I could lower the scope to the horizon, but it would stop rising ten degrees before zenith, and did so with an audible clunk.

It was the magnets—the ones we had attached to the mirror cell to counterweight the scope. They were banging into the inside of the rocker box as the scope was aimed zenith-ward.

Off came the magnets; I was pointed high enough that balance wouldn’t be an issue. But I still couldn’t track down NGC 6819. Being stuck in “the Dob hole” (the region around the zenith at which a Dobsonian scope can largely only rotate on its azimuth axis; Mel Bartels has conquered this by making a Dobsonian with three axes of rotation instead of two) made the cluster much more aggravating to maneuver to. So I gave up on it in favor of something attainable, something removed enough from the Dob Hole that I could manage it: a galaxy that I’d already tried for several times already during this dark cycle. 

2:55
UGC 11426 (Lyr): After much swearing and being lost, I’m giving up on the galaxies near the FoxHead Cluster, which I incontrovertibly could not find [patience is a virtue, all]. I am instead at UGC 11426 in Lyra, at long last. This is a very small elliptical spot without much in the way of detail. The galaxy is not particularly well defined, but it’s 0.3’ round, with a small, not particularly bright core; there is some weakly-defined core/halo distinction visible. The galaxy, as many of these are, is kind of messed-with by having a 9.5-magnitude star 1.25’ almost due S of it, and that star makes averted vision a definite advantage here in observing the galaxy. 0.75’ N slightly F the galaxy is a 13th-magnitude star; due P the galaxy by 2.75’ is an 11th-magnitude star that has two stars of 14.5-magnitude P slightly S of it, all three of these spaced 0.3’ apart. The galaxy is reasonably obvious when you know it’s there, but you wouldn’t think to look for it in this field. In the 7mm, the galaxy is still largely featureless, but is a little more obvious, even more than it was before; the field darkening provided by the extra magnification helps the galaxy jump out a little more (rather than largely making it disappear, as it’s done with may of these little galaxies). It’s certainly not a bad object by any stretch.

A quick look over toward the east confirmed a nagging suspicion: dawn was beginning to make its presence known, in that vague gegenschein-ish manner that signifies the close of astronomical night. I had time for perhaps one more galaxy and a couple of higher surface brightness objects (star clusters or planetary nebulae) before the sky was washed out by impending sunrise; Jupiter was still close enough to the crag that the Obsession wasn’t in position for observing it. Being unrelentingly stubborn, I backtracked toward the Fox Head Cluster, not only to observe the cluster but to starhop to at least one of my target galaxies in the vicinity. Four galaxies lay within three degrees of the cluster; I chose the two UGCs as potential targets over the two MCGs, given the potential hinted at by their various prefixes (especially as Sky Safari had the MCGs listed by their PGC numbers; I might have changed my “selection calculus” had I known this, but the UGCs were closer to the cluster in any case).

I found the Fox Head (one of the more-beautiful but less-known clusters of the summer sky) almost immediately—aggravating, really, given how much time I wasted looking for it earlier. After a minute of taking in the cluster’s star-flecked beauty, it was off to the extragalactic wilds for one final trip this dark cycle….

3:26
UGC 11459 (Cyg): We’re losing our nighttime now; I think dawn is finally breaking. This is UGC 11459, one of the galaxies I was trying in vain to find earlier by starhopping from the FoxHead Cluster. This little galaxy is quite diffuse; it’s elongated N-S, 1.0’ x 0.5’; the halo is not well-defined and fairly ghostly; there’s not much in the way of central brightening noted at 14mm (181x). 7’ S of it is an 8.5-magnitude star, which has F it a small right triangle, the right-angle vertex of which is about 2.25’ F the 8.5-magnitude star and is itself 11th magnitude. N of the galaxy by 11’ is the brighter of a pair, which is 9th magnitude and has an 11th-magnitude star 0.3’ P it. The galaxy has a little wedge of 12.5-14th magnitude stars S of it, and it also has several very, very faint stars close around it, including a 15th-magnitude star on the N very slightly F edge; of that wedge, the brightest star is 12.5 magnitude and is 1’ SF the galaxy. I’m throwing the 7mm in here really quickly; there’s another galaxy [UGC 11460] nearby and I don’t know that I’m going to have a chance to get to it, simply because we’re losing nighttime and I don’t really want to take notes on it if it’s not going to be “fair” to the galaxy. UGC 11459 is even more diffuse at 7mm; it’s hard to see it— I think it may have just gotten too bright out to identify it.

I don’t recall what I may have observed afterward; I’m sure there were at least a few quick looks at summer showpieces in the brightening sky. The Milky Way was still visible, if somewhat attenuated compared to its full nighttime glory. But nothing left me with a strong-enough impression to add it to my wrap-up notes on the night.

It always took a lot less time to tear the Obsession down than to set it up: there was no collimating, no need to make sure truss poles were appropriately tightened, no Telrad alignment to do. The difficult part of night’s end was always getting things stowed properly in their places—while it took some Tetrising to get everything into the Flex during the daytime, it was trickier after observing, simply due to tiredness and the desire to get home quickly. No matter how rewarding a session was, and how hyperactive my brain was in contemplating all that it had seen, once the telescope was put away, we all wanted the drive home to be over in an instant so that we could decompress from the night. It occurred to me that I hadn’t even remembered or noted any of the conversation we’d had during the night, or even what my friends were working on while we were there. I’d been so into my own trip (in part because so much had gone awry) that all I could think of was the galaxy I was currently working on, and how to get to the next one.

Dan left, then Mark. It was unusual for me to leave after Mark, who usually had his imaging gear running as long as possible. But the sky was bright now, and daybreak afforded me one last look around the crag before driving into the uncertain dawn.

Wishing Thee Long

Now the bright morning Star, Dayes harbinger,
Comes dancing from the East, and leads with her
The Flowry May, who from her green lap throws
The yellow Cowslip, and the pale Primrose.
Hail bounteous May that dost inspire
Mirth and youth, and warm desire,
Woods and Groves, are of thy dressing,
Hill and Dale, doth boast thy blessing.
Thus we salute thee with our early Song,
And welcom thee, and wish thee long.


Song on May Morning, John Milton

The rains of winter finally broke in mid-May; our brief March respite aside, it had been one of the worst seasons, weatherwise, that even longterm residents of the Eugene area could recall. It was certainly needed—given the frequent fires of recent summers, no-one would complain too often about refilling the Valley’s water table—but it dragged the winter out to greatly unwanted lengths. There wasn’t even any snow to go with it; if it was going to be cloudy and grey, the least the weather gods could’ve gifted us was a monthly covering of snow to cover the dreary, hibernating landscape.

But that was, for the most part, behind us. By the end of the month, temperatures would already be reaching 100˚F, but the May Moon-dark phase that preceded the heat made it vastly more bearable.

I. For the first time in months, the Clear Sky Chart forecasts offered us a choice: Linslaw or Eagle’s Rest? (The Oxbow was also available, but was usually a third choice for when Linslaw’s forecast was slightly inferior.) Wanting to be more welcoming, and to take the shorter drive, Jerry chose to go to the amphitheater; the greater accessibility there would allow more people to make the trip. Dan B, Loren, and I opted for the darker skies and greater privacy at Linslaw. Dan R was also interested, so I offered him the passenger seat and the road conversation.

It’s always a little unsettling driving to one of our sites for the first time after every winter; the months of rain (and sometimes heavy snowfalls at the higher elevations) created havoc with gravel road and asphalt alike, and it was best to be wary on the initial, tentative drive of the season. Eureka Ridge, our now-sealed off site in the Cascade foothills, suffered greatly from this—winter always turned the unpaved portions of the road up into a minefield of potholes and temporary lakes. At Linslaw, there was also the added threat of downed trees… not to mention the occasional rockfall. (The latter was a problem at The Oxbow, too, as evidenced by the car-sized boulder that showed up at the edge of the observing area one day.)

The Linslaw road was indeed worse for wear. One of the site’s original selling points had been the nearly-pristine condition of the logging road to the site, but the constant rain and snow of the last six months had left potholes and tree debris everywhere. In fact, the Linslaw road now resembled the road to Eureka after the latter had been regraded and repaired. It was certainly still passable, but needed greater care to navigate.

As always, we held our breath when ascending the steep final summit—not only because of the possibility of immovable rocks blocking the ascent, but because of the possibility of squatters on “our” spot. It might seem hypocritical for us to complain about other people using the crag, but we treated it as the sacred site that it was; the gun nuts and camping assholes who left behind hundreds of spent shell casings, bullet damage to the sandstone crag, messy fire pits, and general trash and debris were the ones committing sacrilege against this temple to the stars.

But the only vehicle parked at the top was Loren’s, and he was already setting up his 18-inch Obsession for the night’s run. Having soured on the Astronomical League’s list of planetary nebulae, he had created his own–skipping a lot of the stellar planetaries that showed almost no detail in favor of more-obscure nebulae that were usually even fainter than those he was avoiding, in the hopes of gleaning something distinctive out of each object as a reward for having tracked it down. He’d first planned to stop at 110 planetaries (the amount on the AL list), but was enjoying the hunt and expected to observe even the extra ones he’d unearthed in the literature.

Dan and I began unloading the Flex: table, chairs, eyepieces, equipment kit. It was while I was setting up the ramps to to roll out the Obsession’s massive mirror box that Dan B drove up. Oggie was with him; he hadn’t been to the site since before the 2020 pandemic, and it was good to have him back observing with us. It took forty minutes from parking to aligning the Telrad to the optical axis of the scope, the finishing touch on setting up the huge beast. And then we sat, chatting, as the sky descended through deepening shades of orange, red, and every possible hue of blue, the denouement of a long spring day.

But the night was not without its obstacles—in setting up, and after getting the scope as close to perfectly collimated as I was able, I discovered that my new 14mm Delos wouldn’t reach focus; I needed only a bit more in-travel in the focuser, but just couldn’t quite get it. It was so close that I knew it would only take racking the mirror all the way upward on the collimation bolts and then collimating it “downward” slightly to fix the problem, but it posed a dilemma: spend more time re-collimating the scope, or use my 14mm Explore, which did reach focus? In the end, I opted for the latter, despite my preference for the Delos as my workhorse.

I had with me a new piece of gear, purchased in anticipation of my September observing trip to Massacre Rim International Dark Sky Sanctuary in Nevada: a Sony digital voice recorder. The advantages of having the recorder for notetaking, instead of using my iPhone, were several: the recorder didn’t have an automatic dark-adaptation-destroying backlight to it; the sound quality and setting could be user-controlled; and I could save my phone battery when in places where recharging was difficult or impossible. I would use both the Sony and my iPhone to record tonight, in order to compare the two (and to make sure that I got usable recordings one way or another).

My agenda was simple: after a few brighter or off-the-beaten-path objects, flat galaxies were to be the order of the evening. The first target was an easy one: M5, the huge, showstopping globular cluster in Serpens, its chains of outlier stars curled toward center like the legs of a resting brown recluse spider… a sight I was all-too-familiar with as a result of my time in Carbondale. I followed with NGC 5694, the little “rocket-ship” globular in Virgo (a moniker bestowed by Jerry, based on the asterism in which the cluster is situated). Given their usually-higher surface brightnesses, globular clusters are most often the first deep-sky objects to present well in twilit skies, so these were the appropriate targets for the time of night.

As twilight faded, it was time for galaxies; however, astronomical dusk ended at 10:31, so I still had time before conditions were optimal for flat galaxies, which tend to have much lower surface brightnesses. That time was spent with a few of the showpiece objects of spring, including NGC 5054 in southern Virgo—a striking but lesser-known object. But the sky to the south was murky, as it could be at Linslaw; an obvious marine layer could be seen to the naked-eye, even in the dark. This susceptibility to the effects of the nearby Pacific was Linslaw’s only drawback as an observing site. The night might require hours high on the ladder, rather than in the lower usable-third of the sky (which was where I’d planned to be observing, to be honest). Yet that lower region of the sky was nonetheless where I began.

My first target was NGC 4995, an 11th-magnitude spiral galaxy in Virgo—not a flat galaxy, but the current host of supernova SN2023gfo. The supernova was much dimmer than I expected, barely 16th magnitude, but certainly visible. We of course giggled like frat boys at the “gfo.”

And then it was off to flat galaxies.

05/12-13/23
LINSLAW POINT
SUNSET: 8:29 PM
MOON: 23 days (rose at 3:16 AM; 41% illuminated)
SEEING: 5 (from Spica south), 6
TRANSPARENCY: 5 (from Spica south), 6
SQM: 21.6 (Bootes); 21.18 (Virgo/Hydra) (11:50 PM)
NELM: not checked
WEATHER CONDITIONS: cool, slight breeze; very slight dew; temps to low 50s
OTHERS PRESENT: DB, LR, DR, OG
All observations: 20″ f/4.5 Obsession Dob, 14mm Explore Scientific 82˚ (181x, 0.45˚ TFOV), 10mm TeleVue Delos (254x, 0.29˚ TFOV) or 7mm TeleVue Nagler (363x, 0.21˚ TFOV)

10:59
MCG-4-30-14 (PGC 43021; Hya): OK, so this is PGC 43021 in Hydra over by M68, and on a night when a lot of the galaxies (especially the more-southern galaxies) are not looking good at all, this is respectable for a flat galaxy. It’s reasonably well defined and fairly evenly illuminated; I’m getting a feeling like there’s not a huge amount of extension to it beyond what’s visible. The halo spans 1.25’ x 0.1’… when the conditions flash a little bit the galaxy looks bigger; I’m gonna say 1.67’ x 10”, and oriented at PA 120˚.  No sign of a nucleus or real central brightening. It’s located S slightly P a kind of a bent ‘y’ pattern of stars: N slightly F by 1.5’ is a 12th-magnitude star; there’s another 12th-magnitude star, slightly brighter, F slightly N of the galaxy by 3’; N of that star by 4’ is an 11.5-magnitude star, and there’s another of 11.5 magnitude N very very slightly P that one by 2.75’. Every so often, there’s a hint that there might be a nucleus to the galaxy visible in averted vision—-when looking at the middle star of that little asterism, I occasionally get a flash of a stellar nucleus. 2’ S slightly F the brighter of the two 12th-magnitude stars is a 14.5-magnitude star. That’s a decent flat galaxy on a night when almost everything galaxy-wise that I’ve looked at has been really mediocre.

Loren was busy with NGC 4038/4039, the Antennae Galaxies; Dan B was working his way around M51. But my scientific estimation of the galaxies this night was that they “looked like sh!t,” according to my notes.

11:29
NGC 5170 (Vir): Even though NGC 5170 is a much more impressive galaxy than the other ones I’ve looked at tonight, I’m still left thinking that there’s a marine layer issue where the galaxies just are not able to punch through the transparency that well. This one is… wow, that’s 6’ x 0.25’, elongated in 135˚ PA. It’s very faded at the ends of the arms; the brightness drops off really quickly beyond the central 2.5’. There’s a brighter nuclear region, not necessarily a core, but there’re three brightness gradients here, with the central 1’ the brightest, the inner 2.5’ of the galaxy being the second, and then the arms, which fade into space. In averted vision, there’s a very faint stellar nucleus visible. The S half of the galaxy seems brighter and better defined; the N half “gradients out” into the background faster and more thoroughly. The field stars tonight are just mush. P very very slightly N of the galaxy by 3.5’ is a 14th-magnitude star; along that same line by 10’, is an 11.5-magnitude star that is the long point of an almost-isosceles triangle; N slightly F that star by 2.25’ is a 13.5-magnitude star; there’s a 14th-magnitude star NF the point star in the triangle by 2’. P slightly S of the galaxy by 9’ is a 9.5-magnitude star with a 10.5-magnitude star SP it by 1.75’ and a 13.5-magnitude star P very very slightly S of it by 0.3’, and then F very slightly S of the galaxy by 5’ is a 13th-magnitude star with a 13.5-magnitude star F it by 1.25’. I’m actually gonna throw the 7mm in here and take a look and see what I get out of the middle of this galaxy (assuming I get anything out of it.) The 7mm is just way too much power for this tonight; this is just really terrible seeing and transparency down this low. But the galaxy’s interior looks somewhat irregular in brightness or even “lumpy”; I would not be surprised if part of that’s due to the presence of a dust lane that’s not visible against the glow of the galaxy because the seeing is so poor. The sense that the southern half of the galaxy has greater and more-definable illumination to it is also enhanced by the increased magnification.

Dan was scoping over the supernova at this point, disappointed that it wasn’t brighter (my fault, I think; I’d mistakenly said it was 14th magnitude in an email sent to the group before our departure). Having finished with the Antennae, Loren was digging through the marine muck for NGC 3962 in Crater; upon finding it, he pronounced that, “no way anybody ever loaded up the car and said ‘let’s go look at NGC 3962!’” Of course, I responded that I would do just that. He and both Dans agreed that I would, indeed, be one of the few who would drive forty-five minutes for a glimpse at NGC 3962.

In the front leg of Ursa Major, preceding the Big Dipper, lies the huge, photogenic edge-on spiral galaxy NGC 3079. This galaxy stunned me the first time I saw it, back when I was originally hunting down Herschel objects. It would do so again on this night, despite not being my actual quarry; I was less interested in the showy, broken length of this flashy spiral than in the two tiny, faint, nearly-inseparable points of not-starlight that lay a galaxy’s length north preceding the majestic galaxy.

The Twin Quasar lies 8.7 billion light-years away (z = 1.41), making it the most-distant object I’ve ever tracked down. (I’d seen more-distant objects in others’ scopes.) A single quasar lensed by a massive interceding galaxy cluster into two displaced images, the Twin Quasar appeared merely as two tiny 16.7-magnitude points separated by a respectable 6″. Having studied a photograph of the region, I knew exactly where to look, and the 20-inch scope made quick work of this far-off and coincidental quirk of nature. Dan B, too, soon had the object in his scope (via his eyepiece-mounted image intensifier, which allowed for a less seeing-dependent view).

Having spent forty-five minutes with the quasar, it was time to get back to the task at hand: in my case, that task involved tracking down an object—actually, a set of them—that I’d seen before, but still oddly struggled to find. Hickson 61, a.k.a. “The Box,” is a quartet of galaxies arranged in a rectangular shape, with the galaxies roughly oriented toward each other as their collective name suggests. The group lies in the northwest corner of Coma Berenices, near the northern vertex of the Coma Star Cluster (Melotte 111); this somehow seems to make it harder for me to find. It took fifteen or twenty minutes and several restarts before the quartet—one of the most impressive Hickson Compact Groups of galaxies—hove into view. (It didn’t help that Coma Berenices was sinking quickly toward the western horizon.)

12:43
NGCs 4169, 4173, 4174, 4175 (Hickson 61; Com) After an unnecessarily-long search, I’ve finally found Hickson 61, “The Box.” I’m using the 10mm Delos for this, because the 14mm Explore isn’t really giving me a good view. The Box (the whole quartet) is oriented NP-SF, and the two galaxies on the F side are both oriented that way, so about 135˚ PA; NGC 4173, the flat galaxy, is the more N of the two, and is very evenly and diffusely and rather dimly lit; it’s about 2.25’ x 0.25’. It’s very, very diffuse, poorly defined, with no central brightening whatsoever; the ends just kind of vanish into the grey background sky. SF 4173, exactly along the galaxy’s major axis, is a second galaxy [NGC 4175]; this one is also elongated at 135˚ PA, and is about 1.5’ x 0.25’, but this one has distinct central concentration to it; it has a small, much-brighter core region, though not much in the way of a nucleus, even in averted vision. This one is considerably better defined than 4173, but I wouldn’t say that it’s well defined. SP 4175 by 1.5’ is what I think is NGC 4174; it is quite a bit smaller and oriented at a 90° angle to the other two (so 45˚ PA); this one’s only 0.75’ x 0.3’, but has a much-brighter central region and an obvious stellar nucleus to it; it’s much better defined than the previous two as well. And then NP 4174 by 2.5’, actually, is the P-most of the galaxies [NGC 4169], which it is the brightest and best-defined of the four by a good amount. It’s 1.0’ x 0.67’, oriented about 160 PA; the central third of it is considerably brighter, and has a substellar nucleus. The center of NGC 4173 is N slightly F by 1.75’.  F 4173 by 3.25’ is a 13th-magnitude star that has a 14th-magnitude star 0.75’ N somewhat F it; SF 4175 by 4.25’ is an 11.5-magnitude star with a 14.5-magnitude star S of it by 1.25’ and a 12th-magnitude star S somewhat F it by 2.3’. P somewhat S of 4169 by 1.5’ is a 14.5-magnitude star, and SP 4170 by 1.5’ is a 14.5-magnitude star. And with that I’ve finally taken notes Hickson 61, The Box (although I’ll have to do it again under better transparency).

I was disappointed, in retrospect, that my notes on HCG 61 were so brief. Had I not missed the fairly-obvious field galaxies UGC 7190, UGC 7221, and MCG 5-29-35, I might’ve at least added a few minutes of detail to what I’d dictated; but my audio notes were still skimpier than usual. Perhaps I was concerned about the group plunging into the marine layer. I’m not sure.

We stayed a while longer, observing some of the ascendant summer showpieces. Much as I love observing galaxies, I may still prefer globular clusters as a class overall; there’s something tangible about globulars, something less in need of contemplation, something easier to appreciate–their sizes, distances, and populations don’t leave the mind quite as boggled as the immensity of the galaxies does. A galaxy cluster, as a cohesive entity, is a thing capable of causing a science-related injury:

 

Eventually, the long day—which had started at 5 AM—caught up to me, and it was time to tear down the big scope and make our way back home.

II. The next night offered more clear, Moonless sky, so out to Linslaw we went. The Clear Sky Chart showed clouds rolling in about 1 AM, but that was little deterrent for photon-starved astronomers.

Dan, Loren, and I were joined by Robert and his family; they were at the crag when I arrived, shooting a commercial for Robert’s new binocular telescope venture. We set up around the periphery of where they were shooting. I had only started collimating the big Obsession when another vehicle pulled up: a white Dodge pickup with a young couple in the cab. They looked bewildered and more than a little disappointed that there were already people occupying the site. Their reason for being there was pretty obvious, but they feigned some sort of ignorance about it. They asked Robert what we were doing there; after he told them, he offered for them to stay and observe with us. I think Dan and I cringed a bit. 

Preferring instead to find a more solitary spot for their their more-carnal activities, the couple headed down the road to the crag, but they did it backing down. We all cringed at that, all the while listening for the sounds of a large vehicle plunging over the edge. Kudos to the driver for getting down the hill in one piece.

After they left, Robert’s daughter—who was all of ten—turned to Loren. “What would they be driving up here for?”

“Probably going to waste some latex,” Loren responded, mid-collimation. 

“What does that mean?”

Loren looked thoughtful. “I don’t really know,” he said. 

I had to engross myself in collimating the 20-inch scope, so as to mask how much I was laughing at the exchange. I suspect that—had Loren said anything else—there might have been some uncomfortable questions asked in Robert’s car on the way home.

After another fifteen aggravating minutes collimating the secondary, I was almost ready to go; getting the primary on-axis with the secondary was a snap.

The best way to test one’s collimation is to look, and globular clusters provided as good a set of targets as any. In the falling darkness, I pulled several of them out of the lower reaches of the sky: NGC 5694 in Hydra (one of my first NGC objects, from my Cincinnati days), NGC 5634 in Virgo, M107 and M9 in Ophiuchus. Collimation seemed OK, although it was still murky enough (and the mirror hadn’t cooled enough) that I couldn’t quite tell how much the night might improve.

And I had forgotten to remedy the problem from the night before—I still couldn’t get the 14mm Delos to come to focus. Arrrrrgghhhhh! Rather than starting over again with the primary, I swore several times, got out the 14mm Explore, and got to work. (And I made sure that, when the night was over, I screwed the collimation bolts all the way inward, so I had to collimate outwards next time.)

In that frame of mind, I got to work on the flat galaxies again. I started with a biggie, to let the collimation foul-up out of my mind.

05/13-14/23
LINSLAW POINT
SUNSET: 8:30 PM
MOON: 24 days (rose at 3:39 AM; 30% illuminated)
SEEING: 6
TRANSPARENCY: 6
SQM: 21.46 (Bootes; 12:00 AM)
NELM: not checked
WEATHER CONDITIONS: warm; very windy/blustery; temps to low 60s
OTHERS PRESENT: DB, LR, RA (and family)
All observations: 20″ f/4.5 Obsession Dob, 14mm Explore Scientific 82˚ (181x, 0.45˚ TFOV) or 7mm TeleVue Nagler (363x, 0.21˚ TFOV) unless otherwise noted

10:43
NGCs 4565, 4562/4565A (Com): Starting off a windy night at Linslaw with NGC 4565, and man, is it stunning tonight! The galaxy is very well-defined; even the ends of the spiral arms are pretty sharp. The dust lane’s easily apparent on the F side. The galaxy Is elongated at 135˚ PA and is at least 14.0’ x 1.25’, and has a distinct 2’ core region that contains a stellar nucleus that lies just P the dust lane. The dust lane is visible for almost the whole length of the galaxy. 1.5’ NF the nucleus is a 13th-magnitude star, and then S somewhat P the galaxy by 4’ is a 13.5-magnitude star; due P the galaxy by 10’ is the middle star and brightest (at 11th magnitude) of a reasonably-straight 11’ line of five stars; just off the south end, so due SP NGC 4565 by 13’, is another edge-on spiral [NGC 4562/4565A], which is oriented at 45˚ PA, so completely perpendicular to the 135˚ PA of 4565, and is 2.0’ x 0.25’; it’s considerably diffuse with very little central concentration, and lies S very slightly P the bottom and faintest star of that line of five by about 3’; that star is 13th magnitude. 15’ S very very slightly P 4565 is a 10th-magnitude star; there’s a 9th-magnitude star S slightly F the galaxy by 13’. A great look at one of the great galaxies!

Another set of shorter notes, possibly due to the wind—the galaxy was still up high, and the wind was whipping across the crag, making it necessary to hang on to the scope for fear of it being blown off-target. Throughout my notetaking, Dan was heckling me for looking at something “bright enough to see a dust lane”; I admitted to “slumming with the bright stuff.”

Commercial finished, Robert and family left. I was surprised they didn’t stick around to observe, at least with his binocular scope.

The beautiful stuff continued; I’d seen the next pairing before, but not so spectacularly.

11:37
NGCs 4222 (Com), 4216, 4206 (Vir): This is the very excellent triptych of NGC 4222 (which is my target), NGC 4216 (which is not but should be), and NGC 4206 (which very well could have been). So we’ll start at 4222, because it is the “target” galaxy. It’s evenly-illuminated, poorly defined, and fairly diffuse, elongated about 50˚ PA, and is about 2.0’ x 10”. Off the NF-ish end, just outside the edge of the halo is a 15th-magnitude star; there’s a 15.5-magnitude star S very slightly F the galaxy by 1.3’. It also has an annoyingly bright (8.5 magnitude) star F very very slightly S of it by 4.5’, and that star has a 12th-magnitude star N of it by 3’. Due P the galaxy by 4.3’ is a 12th-magnitude star that has a 13th-magnitude star N very very slightly F it by 5.5’. NP the galaxy by 2.3’ is a 14th-magnitude star that has a 14.5-magnitude star 1’ N of it. 12’ S somewhat P 4222 is NGC 4216, a really impressive, stunning (!) galaxy with a hint of a dark lane on the F side, a very bright 1’ core, and a stellar nucleus; 0.67’ F the nucleus is a 15th-magnitude star. This galaxy’s elongated at 25˚ PA, tapers at the ends of the spiral arms and fades out, and is 6.5’ x 0.75’— that would probably be a flat galaxy if its inclination was a few more degrees! 4216 is illuminated more strongly and better defined on the S end. And then 12’ S somewhat P 4216 is another galaxy [NGC 4206] that’s also edge-on; it’s 3.75’ x 0.5’ and is also quite diffuse and fairly evenly illuminated; it’s oriented in 170˚ PA, not well defined, and has very little central brightening at all. SF this one by 2.75’ a 12th-magnitude star that has an 11.5-magnitude star S slightly F it by 4’ and another 12th-magnitude star F slightly S by 7’; N of the galaxy by 7’ is a 10.5-magnitude star. It’s pretty bad; I’ve got a good night up here and all I’m doing is NGCs!

Either from the wind or from my aching feet—or just plain poor observing on my part—I missed IC 771, MCG 2-31-76, CGCG 69-113, and several others in the vicinity, all of which should’ve been in range of the 20-inch scope.

My next object broke from the “slumming with the bright stuff” narrative.

12:04
IC 3311 (Vir): IC 3311 lies in Virgo just S of Markarian’s Chain, just S of “The Face” (which has Messiers 84 and 86 as its eyes), and is about as difficult an object I think as I can do in tonight’s conditions. This galaxy is 1.0’ x 8” and oriented in PA 120˚; it really really benefits from averted vision, but even then it’s really difficult to hold it steady. It lies due P the N end of an almost-parallelogram; 2.75’ due F it is the faintest star (at 15.5 magnitude) and NP vertex in an almost-parallelogram of stars; 1.25’ SF that star is a 14th-magnitude star; 4’ S very very slightly P that star is a 14th-magnitude star that has a 13th-magnitude star P slightly N of it by 1.67’; those four make up the “almost-parallelogram.” But there’s actually very little else in this field; it’s quite barren. The galaxy’s exceedingly diffuse; I’m gonna have to throw the 7mm on it and see if I can pull it out better…. With the 7mm the galaxy just disappears entirely, as I rather expected it would. 

A particularly strong gust of wind blew the scope around in azimuth just as I’d put the 7mm Nagler in the focuser and as I’d been moving to observe through it. Result: I got the eyepiece jammed rather painfully into my face, just below my eye. I shouted something rude, grateful that Robert’s kids weren’t around to hear it. I think I was more worried about getting the eyepiece dirty than in getting injured, but a quick look showed that there’d been little effect on the glass lenses. I used to be an astronomer until I took an eyepiece to the eye.

I’d gotten a set of SQM readings just before diving after IC 3311; up near Boötes, it averaged 21.46, but only 21.2 down lower in Corvus. This was borne out by the naked-eye impression, as well, as the marine layer was still plainly apparent. Against my better judgement, I plowed ahead with my flat agenda. My feet were already killing me, and I needed some time on the chair rather than the ladder.

12:33
NGCs 5022, 5018 (Vir): We are at NGC 5022 in Virgo, south of Spica, and this is a faint sliver, although still very much a direct vision object, but quite diffuse and without much central brightening at all. It’s a 1.3’, 25˚ PA slash of light… but in averted it extends to 1.67’ and 0.3’ thick. And at moments, there’s definitely some central brightening that I didn’t detect at first—-not much in the way of a core, but a very faint stellar nucleus (which really requires averted vision to confirm). The galaxy seems reasonably-well defined; I don’t know if I’m only seeing the core or the entirety of the galaxy. The galaxy serves as the right-angle vertex of a (not-quite-) right triangle: due N of it by 2.5’ is an 11th-magnitude star; 3.25’ due P it is another of the same magnitude, and P very very very slightly S—so not quite in a line between the galaxy and that last star— is another star that is actually a double, I think; the brighter of the double is along that line, 2’ P the galaxy; that star is 13th magnitude and has a 14.5-magnitude star F somewhat S of it by 0.25’. 7.5’ P slightly N NGC 5022 is NGC 5018, which is 2.3’ x 1.67’, elongated P very very slightly N-F very very slightly S, with a smallish, bright, sudden core and a substellar nucleus. The halo is pretty diffuse and not particularly well defined. 2’ N very slightly F 5018 is a 14.5-magnitude star; 1’ F very very slightly S of the galaxy is another 14.5-magnitude star, and then P somewhat N of the galaxy by 6’ is the brightest star in the field, which is 9.5 magnitude. 

Feet rested for a few minutes, it was back to the ladder, the gusty wind, and the supposedly-better sky conditions; clouds were creeping across Ursas Major and Minor… just as the Clear Sky Chart had predicted.

1:04
NGC 5529 (Boo): This is the very fine NGC 5529, which at the moment is up close to zenith (a lot closer than I like to be, especially on a windy night like this). The galaxy is quite large and robust, at 4.5’ x 0.5’; in photographs, it looks a lot like NGC 5907 in Draco, only less of just about everything than 5907. It’s oriented in 110˚ PA and has a 14.5-magnitude star just off the F end, exactly along the major axis. 2.25’ N of the galaxy is a 13th-magnitude star; 1.5’ S of the galaxy is a 14th-magnitude star. The P edge of the field is marked by a 9’ zigzag line slightly of five stars, with the S end also becoming a triangle with the addition of a sixth star; the brightest star in that line is 10th magnitude and lies at the N end, and the line runs N very slightly P-S very slightly F. 4.75’ N slightly F the galaxy is an 11th-magnitude star. 4.3’ F very very slightly S of the galaxy is the N end of a line of three almost equally-spaced stars; that star is 13th magnitude; F slightly S of it by 0.67’ is an 11th-magnitude star, and F slightly S of that star by 0.5’ is a 14th-magnitude star. There was no nucleus visible in 5529 in the 14mm, but in the 7mm there’s a very slight hint of a stellar nucleus visible and a gradual brightening across the middle 2/3 of the galaxy. I don’t generally consider deep-sky objects as things to “collect,” as in trainspotting, but this is a quite impressive specimen even in the currently-mediocre seeing.

The clouds grew more intrusive now, stretching all the way to the northeast, where Cassiopeia and Pegasus were starting to climb into view. Time, perhaps, for one more flat galaxy—another which I’d previously observed:

1:51
NGC 5023 (CVn): NGC 5023 is also quite impressive, although not overly bright. It’s a 4.0’ x 0.25’ streak, elongated in 30˚ PA. It’s quite diffuse and not totally evenly illuminated; it’s not mottled,
per se, but the view here hints at texture just beyond resolution, and there’s not really any sense of a core or nucleus—-nothing that symmetrical. The halo seems to be a little sharper on the N end; it comes to a finer point than on the more-diffuse S end. 8’ N of the galaxy is a tiny almost-equilateral triangle of 13th/14th-magnitude stars that’s quite distinctive in the field; it’s 0.3’ on a side, with its SP vertex very slightly brighter than the other two; the N vertex is the faintest. 3.3’ NP the galaxy is a 15th-magnitude star. P somewhat N of the galaxy by 8.5’ is the brightest star in the field, which is 10th magnitude and has an 11th-magnitude star S slightly P it by 1’, and then F somewhat S of the galaxy by another 8’ is an 11th-magnitude star. That’s a really fine, somewhat ghostly but impressive galaxy—-one that would be a nice sight in smaller apertures. 

In the intimidating winds, I didn’t bother trying to swap eyepieces.

The clouds won out. The three of us remaining on the crag started our teardown for the night in… not silence, but rather the opposite of it, starting with a rendition of the old Lowenbrau commercial and proceeding through whatever labyrinthine intertextual commentary suited the night. And then it was a slow crawl down the mountain and the seemingly-endless highway home.

Robbie

By now, most of my readers know what it means when a post is named after someone.

While astronomy is the most enjoyable of sciences for amateurs—one of the few where amateurs have historically held nearly-equal footing with professionals (although in different ways)—it’s the people within it that make it the community that it is. When all is said and done, looking out into the cold, random vastness of the universe hammers home how important it is that we maintain contact with our own community on this tiny, fragile rock.

Robbie Stokes didn’t have to do astronomy as a hobby. In fact, I don’t have any idea where he found the time for it, and I don’t know where and when (and why) he started down the stargazer’s path. Perhaps that was why I so rarely saw him at AASI events with his telescopes; I can only remember one occasion where he joined the rest of us on an observing field. But he was no mere dabbler—Robbie knew his stuff, both theoretically and observationally. He was the guy who would always ask (with a wink) about where something would fit on the Hertzsprung-Russell diagram, where something would be situated in the Milky Way relative to the Earth or the Galactic Center, what the latest theory meant for our understanding of the Universe. He did this as much to keep the conversations moving, during the inevitable lulls at AASI meetings, as he did because he really did want to know. And when I announced at one meeting that the next meeting would focus on the H-R diagram, he threw his hands up in triumph, as he’d been trying to get me to cover that particular topic for some time. And it wasn’t just because he needed the material either, because Robbie knew the H-R diagram at least as well as I did; he just wanted to talk about it.

No, Robbie had astronomy in his DNA, although it took a backseat to his career and primary hobby: music. Robbie Stokes was a pillar of the Carbondale community and one of its best-known residents; if (as Mrs. Caveman and I have on several occasions) you met someone who’d spent time in southern Illinois, you had only to mention Robbie’s name to get a light of recognition to appear above their heads. He was responsible for the sound design of most of Carbondale’s newer bars; he ran the big board at concerts throughout the area; he was the preferred concert sound guy for Carlos Santana (among many others), and he was a singer and guitarist for many area bands over the years, including the region’s greatest contribution to the national music scene during the psychedelic 60s.

(That’s Robbie on the right.)

Devil’s Kitchen, Robbie’s band of the time, was named after a lake in southern Illinois, one from whose shores I did several observing sessions during my time in the 618. Devil’s Kitchen (the band) made only a small national splash, but it was the nature of that splash that caught and held the attention: they were the Grateful Dead’s preferred opening act for two years. In that time, after moving to the Haight-Ashbury, Robbie sat in with the Jefferson Airplane when Jorma Kaukonen was ill and they needed a guitarist; the list of music legends Robbie performed with was staggering. (I’ve lost track of the article, but one music A-lister from the time said that the two best guitarists in rock were “Jimi Hendrix and Robbie Stokes.”) He had enough “war stories” to fill a thousand evenings; there were never enough opportunities to hear more than one or two of them at a time.

But Robbie seemingly had time enough for everyone. He was one of the most welcoming, friendliest, most genuine people I’ve ever met; he never failed to ask how Mrs. Caveman was if she couldn’t make the AASI meeting, and he spoke to our daughter like she was an adult–even more wonderfully, he listened when she talked to him. I can’t recall a single instance where Robbie seemed too stressed, too busy, too annoyed, to stop and offer a hug or a handshake or a jaunty “Hey there, Mr./Ms. _____!” whenever we chanced upon him, even when he was at work. People like Robbie are a rare type—particularly in astronomy, a largely-solitary pursuit: even when in a group of other astronomers, observing agendas are usually tailored to individuals.

And now he lives only as memories, taken far too soon (and seemingly suddenly, for those of us no longer in Carbondale, out of the loop), gone to make the Universe a little bit warmer.

Ad astra per aspera, Robbie. It was an honor and a privilege.

Messier Madness

The constant rains of the Willamette Valley winter relented briefly in mid-March, as if in a show of mercy toward desperate earthbound astronomers. Clear Sky Chart forecasts indicated a few passable nights near Third Quarter Moon; it took no extra prodding for those of us who’d been waiting since November for an observing opportunity, despite the fact that it was squarely in the middle of the work week.

The timing was doubly fortuitous, coinciding as it did with the chance to conduct a Messier Marathon. It wasn’t perfect—New Moon would be ideal—but no-one in EAS was going to complain. Maybe the New Moon weekend would be clear, maybe it wouldn’t; the 10-day forecast (fallible as it was) indicated more rain on the way after our spell of respite. The sky gods giveth, and the sky gods taketh away. Dan and Jerry planned to spread their Marathon over the course of whatever nights were available and when the Moon was out of the sky… not a true Messier Marathon, but completely acceptable anyway, given what we’d had for clear Moonless nights during the winter (read: none). Loren wasn’t interested in the Marathon; he was plowing through an altered version of the Astronomical League’s Planetary Nebula list, hoping to pick up a few of the low-declination late winter planetaries before the rains returned.

I’d always wanted to complete a Messier Marathon, having twice come close to doing so, but I was also very close to finishing notetaking on all 110 Messiers. This took precedence. I might stop in at a few of the others while waiting for some of the ones I needed to rise into better position, but my focus was going to be on the dozen or so that would already be in decent position before the pre-dawn hours. This included a couple of the less-appreciated clusters, the Crab Nebula, and the object I dreaded most of all: M42, the Great Orion Nebula. No object surrendered such a wealth of detail, or demanded as much patience to observe. Even after years of putting descriptions into voice memos, I wasn’t sure I had the descriptive skills to do the nebula justice. But time was slipping by, and the April New Moon phase would find the nebula well past its prime visually. I had to catch it now, on the first night of this clear spell, even at the expense of every other object on every one of my lists.

I. The first night’s forecast looked best at Linslaw Point, our craggy “spiritual” retreat. It had been four long months since Loren and I had damn near frozen up on the crag, when I took notes on The Pleiades and the three Messier clusters in Auriga; I’m still not sure I had completely thawed out from that particular night (and I knew thawing far better than most). Loren was there, and Dan B and Jerry, and Dan R had joined us for the Marathon opportunity, with Jerry using his 20″ TriDob on the night; Dan B also had his 20″, and Loren his 18″ Obsession. I had the smallest scope in Bob the Dob, but I also had a secret new weapon.

I’d gotten a 14mm Delos for Christmas, Mrs. Caveman having given away (under the assumption I wasn’t going to need it) the “extra” computer we’d bought from the university; while the computer would’ve been useful, its absence was equally so, allowing me to add a little extra guilt-tripping to my request for the new eyepiece. I’d intended to get the Delos anyway, to replace my workhorse 14mm Explore 82-degree Nagler clone… the one that’d ruined the threads on my old Lumicon O-III filter (which had also already been replaced). The Explore was still a useful eyepiece, but Explore Scientific had annoyed me with their “F You” customer response to my query about replacing the eyepiece barrel. Tonight would be the Delos’ baptism of fire, as I was giving it first light on M42, befitting its status as my new workhorse.

While waiting for darkness to settle completely on the sandstone crag, however, there was time and opportunity to pick off another Messier object, one with a fairly narrow window of observability this late in the winter. Out came the Explore for one “last hurrah,” as tribute to its years of useful service.

03/15-16/23
LINSLAW POINT
SUNSET: 7:18 PM
MOON: 23 days (rose at 3:40 AM; 45% illuminated)
SEEING: 6
TRANSPARENCY: 6
SQM: 21.4 (12 AM)
NELM: not checked
WEATHER CONDITIONS: temps in mid-40s, chilly but tolerable; some dew; air mostly still
OTHERS PRESENT: JO, DB, LR, DR

All observations: 12.5″ f/5 Discovery Dob, 14mm TeleVue Delos (113x, 0.62˚ TFOV), 14mm ES 82˚ eyepiece (112x, 0.7˚ TFOV), or 7mm TeleVue Nagler (225x, 0.36˚ TFOV) unless otherwise noted

8:46
M41 (NGC 2287; CMa): First object of an important night. M41 is about 40’ across; it’s pretty obviously a cluster and is well detached from the Milky Way in this part of Canis Major, with a lot of magnitude range among the 90 or so stars here; I don’t believe the 6th-magnitude star to the SF is part of the cluster, but it’s right on the edge of the field with the cluster lucida centered in the field; that star’s about 21’ SF the lucida, which is 7th magnitude and just slightly SP the center of the cluster. F somewhat N of the lucida by 2.67’ is an 7.5-magnitude star that I think is more the physical and visual center of M41, and is on the S end of the major axis of a N slightly P-S slightly F ellipse of stars. The ellipse is about 2.75’ by 1.5’; the star on the N end of the major axis of that ellipse is the second brightest in the ellipse at 9th magnitude. The overall cluster branches out in an ‘X’ pattern; 7’ F somewhat S from the 7.5-magnitude star in the ellipse is an 8th-magnitude star that lies at the SF end of the X; that star is part of a F slightly S-P slightly N arc of six stars whose P slightly N end is the cluster lucida; that arc is about 9’ long and forms the SF bar of the X. 3.75’ NF that 7.5-magnitude star in the ellipse is the S end of a 5’ line that generally runs SP-NF and has five stars in it, making a SP-NF arc with a central section of three stars that runs straight N-S, or two slightly-intersecting lines of stars. 9’ N of the 7.5-magnitude star is an 8th-magnitude star. 7’ NP from the 7.5-magnitude star (I should be using the lucida for these directions and distances but I’m not) is the F and fainter of a pair which is 8.5 magnitude and has due P it by 0.3’ a 7th-magnitude star that has an 8th-magnitude star P somewhat N of it by 1.5’; and 3’ F that 8.5-magnitude star is another pair that’s much dimmer but very obvious; those are SP-NF each other by 0.25’ with the more-N one somewhat brighter; those are 9.5 and 10th magnitudes. From the 7.5-magnitude “center” star SP by 8’ is another 7.5-magnitude star that has an 8.5-magnitude star 1.67’ F slightly S of it, and from
that 7.5-magnitude star NF by 1.75’ is an 11th-magnitude star. From that 7.5-magnitude star 3.5’ P very slightly N is an 8.5-magnitude star that has a 9th-magnitude star 2.5’ F somewhat N of it. These stars all form the various arms of the X. There looks to be “darkness of the nebulous variety” around the ellipse and then parallel to the line between the lucida and the 7.5-magnitude star (so P slightly S-F slightly N), running 25’ across the cluster. Between the lucida and the two pairs (the 7th/8th magnitude pair and the 9.5/10th-magnitude pair) toward the P edge of the cluster there’s a round 5’ blot of dark nebulosity that fills much of the space between the lucida and those pairs; P the brighter of the pairs and running SP-NF in the field is a dark strip that’s 6’ long and 1’ wide, so there is dark nebulosity abounding within the cluster’s diameter.… Running parallel to the faint pair of intersecting lines of stars NF that “center” star and P it is another dark strip that’s roughly 8’ long and variably thick, between 3’ and 1.5’. There’s a scattering about twenty brighter stars in the single digit magnitudes, and then a substrate of 10th- and 11th-magnitude stars; there’s not a huge amount of faint stars, though; I wonder if the dark nebulosity swallowed all of them up or blotted them all out. NF the “center” star by 12’, so beyond the end of the two intersecting lines, is an interesting double [SAO 172308] with the fainter S very slightly P the brighter by 12”; those are very unequal in brightness (9th and 10.5 magnitude).

One done. I was almost sweating in anticipation of tackling M42; fortunately, I had first light for the new Delos to look forward to. I stowed the dutiful Explore, wrapped the dew heater band around the Delos, and put it in the focuser, pivoting the scope over to Orion. After a brief adjustment to my observing chair, I sized up M42 in the Telrad and carefully parked myself in the chair.

My first glance through the Delos was to center up the great nebula, as the Telrad was slightly off (despite the care with which I aligned it). But once the nebula floated into the center of the eyepiece… the rest of the Universe disappeared and nothing remained but the Orion Nebula, in its astonishing, field-filling glory.

I don’t recall my exclamation, but it was enough to summon Jerry, Dan R, and Dan B over for a look. Extracting myself from the nebula, I gave Dan R, then Jerry, then the skeptical Dan B the view. Jerry proclaimed it the best view he’d ever had of M42; Dan R concurred, repeating my earlier exclamation (probably “Holy sh!t” or something semantically equivalent) and adding an “indeed” to it afterward. Even Dan B, who considers TeleVue eyepieces overpriced and the Delos line too narrow in field of view, agreed that the view was exceptional. “It would be better in a 100-degree field of view instead of a soda straw,” he added, not wanting to be too effusive (lest he yield his longstanding position).

I returned to the eyepiece, even though the nebula’s image had burned into my brain. Somehow, I had to put the vision into words; I could’ve used Lovecraft’s lines from The Dream-Quest of Unknown Kadath:

” It was a fever of the gods; a fanfare of supernal trumpets and a clash of immortal cymbals. Mystery hung about it as clouds about a fabulous unvisited mountain….”

except that Burnham had already done so, and I was leery of giving too much credit to Lovecraft given his personal views on race and culture. But my own words weren’t as beautiful, and I found myself so feeble-witted by the sight of the nebula that my descriptions required careful decipherment; in places, I’m not even sure what I was describing, or if it was even real.

9:11
M42, M43 (NGCs 1976, 1982; Ori): This is certainly an auspicious occasion, the 14mm Delos getting first light on the Orion Nebula, and the view has been described by everyone as utterly superb, and it absolutely is. What a phenomenal sight! The nebula takes up well more than the 37° field of view on the Delos, the stars in the Trapezium (and elsewhere) just snapping to focus. I can’t say enough how extraordinary this view is. The E and F stars are visible and I’m finding several others N of the Trapezium, in and around some of the known stars; I’m sure I’ve seen them before but this is the first time they’ve drawn my attention. But the Trapezium’s brightest star, the C star, I’m using that as the centerpiece here; the D star is NF it by 0.25’. 13” P somewhat N of the C star is, I believe, the A star, and it has the B star N slightly F it by 10”, with the E star N very slightly P the A star by 5”. The F star is 5” SF the C star. N and NF the C star is a pair, separated by 1.25’; from the C star to the brighter of those two [V1230 Ori], bridging the Fish’s Mouth, is 2.25’; that brighter star of the two is 9th magnitude, and it has 1’ P very slightly S of it an 11th magnitude star [MR Ori]. From [V1230 Ori] N slightly P by 0.75’ is a 14.5-magnitude star that I thought for a moment had a companion… yeah, there’s a 15.5 magnitude star almost due N of the dimmer of those two stars by 1.5’; those are actually 15th and 15.5 magnitude. Magnitudes on the Trapezium stars: the C star is 5th magnitude; D is 6.5; A is 6.5;  B is 8th; E is 11th… F is 11.5. Between the A [C] star and [V1230 Ori] by 0.75’ is an 11.5 magnitude star. From the C star 4’ F somewhat S is the P-most vertex [Theta2 Ori] in a wedge of stars that follows the edge of the nebula; that star is also 5th magnitude. The second star in that wedge is 1’ F the first and is 6.5 magnitude; 1.25’ F slightly S of that star is an 8.5-magnitude star, and 1.5’ S slightly P that star is a 12.5 magnitude star that has a 14th magnitude star S very slightly F it by 1.75’. 

So enough about the damn stars here; let’s talk about the nebula! The brighter part  of the nebula spans almost the entire field—the big arc, which stretches N of the trapezium; it runs P slightly N-F slightly S, reaches the dark feature in the nebula [the Fish’s Mouth], and then reappears on the other side, stretching 14’ N very slightly P-S very slightly F and dissipates at the S end at a 7th-magnitude star that has F very slightly N of it by 5.5’ a 6.5-magnitude star. (This is the side I call the Scimitar.) The dark wedge of the Fish’s Mouth reaches generally NF from the Trapezium, from being almost in contact with the Trapezium stars, runs parallel to the wedge of stars [Theta2, etc.], spans 8’ SP to NF, and terminates near what looks to be a 9th-magnitude star and also sweeps roughly due P for about 10’, past an 11th-magnitude star that’s kind of swallowed up in the dark nebulosity, and reaches past that star by 2.5’ and then continues beyond that, much less opaquely; that’s the most opaque section of the dark nebulosity, but it continues P very slightly N from that 11th-magnitude star for another 13’ and then branches NP for 6.5’ along the F edge and the NF edge of M43, which is about 6.5’ from its S edge up to an 11.5-magnitude star, and then curves P and then S past a 9.5-magnitude star that is P very slightly N of the previous star, and then from that star it continues down to an 11.5-magnitude star S very very slightly P, and then curves S and F. [Whew!] M43 is 6’ generally round, with a 7th-magnitude star roughly centered in the middle of the round part, so it looks roughly like a comma whose tail reaches P and then N. the fainter part of the dark nebula that runs around the N edge of M42 varies in thickness; at its narrowest, just between M42 and M43, it’s about 2.3’ thick. From the C star in the Trapezium to the bright star in the middle of M43 is about 8’. On the other side of the Trapezium, roughly due S of the C star, on the opposite side of the bright core of the nebula (which I’ll get to in a second), is a P slightly N-F slightly S strip of darkness which is 1.5’ long and whose N edge is 0.25’ thick; it spreads somewhat S, and at its widest (which is on the F edge) is 0.67’ thick.

The Trapezium is nestled in the NP vertex of an irregular pentagon where the texture and brightness are considerably variable; the brightest part of the nebula itself is along the F side of this pentagon [“The Cliff”], over toward the wedge; that section is 2.5’ long and runs at an almost-right angle N from that narrower dark strip on the S end of the Trapezium. The Fish’s Mouth juts into the N(F) edge of that pentagon, which tip-to-tip is also 2.5’; the NP edge of the pentagon runs 1.75’, starting N of the Trapezium and then running SP; and then the final edge runs SF from that point S down to the P edge of that little dark spot/strip. The Scimitar, which is on the F edge of the nebula, is as narrow as 1.25’, widens considerably as it moves S, and then narrows again (like the blade of a scimitar!) down to the star at its tip, but there’s also—from that star and running 6.5’ NP to a 10th-magnitude star [NV Ori]—another variably thin, perhaps 0.3/0.5’ strip that runs NP-SF between those two stars (the 7th-magnitude star at the end of the scimitar and the 10th-magnitude star I just mentioned). The widest part of the Scimitar also has along it a 13th-magnitude star, right on the tip where the scalloping is. The P side of the nebula is somewhat “cut off”; there’s a fairly abrupt cutoff where it spreads S, almost like a dark area amidst the bubble itself; with the Trapezium on the N side of the field, the nebulosity kind of spans most of the edge P and then S around the circumference of the field; but that N-S part that I just mentioned, the brighter portion on the P edge of the darkness there, is kind of a well-defined area P somewhat S of the Trapezium, with a 9th-magnitude star near the S end of it. There’s another bright spot in the nebulosity from the star in the tip of the Scimitar: from the Trapezium due S, starting 5’ S slightly F the Trapezium and then proceeding roughly S-ward for three more stars, is a line of four whose brightest star is on the S end of it; that star is 8th magnitude and lies 13’ S slightly P the Trapezium; between that star and the star at the tip of the Scimitar, and framed within and around a small right triangle of fainter stars, is a patch of nebulosity that is 3’ P-F and 1.25’ SP-NF. This portion of the nebula surrounding the triangle is surprisingly obvious if you can get the center of the nebula and that bright triple star [Iota Ori] in the Rocket Cluster [NGC 1980] out of the way; it seems to be more obvious on the P end, around the faintest of the stars in that little right triangle; the triangle is about 0.67’ on the F side and then 1.5’ on the other non-hypotenuse side; the stars on the F side are the much brighter; the star on the end of the hypotenuse and the long side is quite dim, 13.5 magnitude; the right-angle vertex is 12th magnitude, and the third vertex is 11.5 magnitude. The southern reaches of the nebula loop around some 30’ S of the Trapezium and F the Rocket Cluster; the nebulosity runs faintly but obviously through the cluster and proceeds P slightly S from there. I mentioned that long dark area against the brighter background that has the really cutoff edge on its F side; between that edge (which is on the P side of the nebula) and the Trapezium is a number of faint stars; that’s the greatest concentration of stars in the nebula.  

With the UHC… WOW!! The pentagon extends and delineates much better, really enhanced in contrast and full of texture. The filter also extends the pentagon S of that dark notch S of the Trapezium, which is really thrown into relief against the bright part of the nebula. The UHC has killed most of M43; I didn’t remember or expect this. The filter has enhanced the bright part of M42 so much that the appearance of the dark parts has changed; from the base of the Scimitar, along the F edge of that dark portion of the nebula, there’s a very ghostly strip that runs past the base of the Scimitar and proceeds NF for 5’. And then from the Trapezium to the bright star on the other side of the dark clump, the bright one along the major axis of the dark nebulosity, from that star 2.5’ P somewhat S is a small tuft of nebulosity that’s been much enhanced by the filter; it’s between that star and the fainter one P very slightly S of it; that tuft is 2’ x 1’, elongated P slightly S-F slightly N. The cutoff on the P edge of the nebula is incredible! The NP edge is much, much more well-defined with the UHC. (Probably with the THC, too.) The loop there, the S-ward loop of the nebula, becomes much more apparent and runs more distinctly through NGC 1980. From the N edge of M42, that bubble is almost the same size as the field, close to 40’, and roughly round (squashed on the P side and rounder on the F side). “In the cold light of Oxygen III….”: WOW again! The number of features that are changed by the filter… the S-ward loop is thinner, especially on the F side, and more diffuse, but the Scimitar is much, much brighter. M43 is reduced to just a faint glow around that bright star, no more than about 1.5’ diameter; it’s almost disappeared completely. The Scimitar is incredibly well delineated; in particular, the edge on the inside of the blade toward the handle is really sharply defined and very bright; it almost looks like a segment of the Veil, only much brighter. The arc of nebulosity that runs through NGC 1980, however, is much less obvious than with the UHC. There are dark ripples throughout the nebulosity… there’s the large dark obscuration in the P edge of the nebula, and just F that (so S slightly P the Trapezium), there are some dark ripples in that region as well, giving the nebula a much more irregular shape/texture. There are dark “speckles” in the pentagon/central region too. Only three of the Trapezium stars are even visible; the nebula has blotted the B star out entirely. From the bright P edge [The Cliff] of the wedge of stars F the Trapezium, the nebulosity loops from the inner edge of the Scimitar all the way along the pentagon; the nebulosity along the edge of that wedge is very well defined, but the pentagon, especially to the S, is a little less well defined than in the UHC or the unfiltered view; it streams away past the dark strip and continues, especially SP the dark strip, where there’s much more of a visible streamer heading S.  This is such an unusual view with the O-III the nebula’s shape is dramatically different. Interestingly: N of the nebula, farther N than M43, the dark wedge in the nebula is as dark as the sky background, which makes me suspect that there’s a lot more dark nebulosity here that just doesn’t have the bright nebula to provide contrast to make it visible. I’ve always thought the nebula looks like a bat, and that impression is much enhanced here. S of the dark cloud on the P edge of the nebula, S on the S slightly F edge of that is that 9th-magnitude star, and then S of that star by several arcminutes is a brighter patch of nebulosity brought out by the O-III, one that extends quite a bit beyond that star; there’s the large vague dark cloud on the P edge of the nebula, the 9th-magnitude star on the S slightly F edge of that, and then extending 8’ S from that star is this other, higher-contrast region of nebulosity.

An incredible object, one which words fail to express the majesty of—I could’ve spent twice as long describing it and gotten things even more confused!

Almost an hour after starting my recording on M42 (and M43, forgotten in the shuffle), I paused it, typed “M42” into the Save As space, and saved the file. I went back to the eyepiece, observing the nebula for at least fifteen minutes more, pausing only for Loren to take a look through the Delos; he’d heard everyone rave about the view, but had been busy with his own agenda. His only response: a Borat-esque “Niiiiiiiice.”

It would have been easy to simply call it a night on the note-taking; I could’ve spent hours taking in the view of M42. It had been a (shamefully) long time since I’d studied an object that closely… and 37 years, perhaps to the day, since my first disappointing glance at M42 through my then-new C8 from my Cincinnati backyard. I’d had different expectations then; the nebula was already low in the Bortle 8 light-haze over the city, and while I’d been prepared for it not to look like a photograph, I’d still expected better than that view had provided. My second look at the nebula through that scope in those skies was far superior, but not even the 20″ Obsession had shown the razor-sharp stars and the wispy textures yielded by the Delos and the 12.5″ Ostahowski optics.

The others had made progress on their Marathon; Dan B had been giving Jerry grief over his love of open clusters, in part because he had also checked out NGC 1980 in my scope while sweeping through the M42 complex and was currently heading for M48; he and Dan R were discussing the Dogon people of Mali and their allegedly-inexplicable knowledge of Sirius B. Meanwhile, Loren had picked off one of the Sanduleak planetaries on his list and had finished observing Minkowski 3-6 in Pyxis, which I had seen with Bob the Dob but nothing the scale of Loren’s 18″ Obsession. I’d planned to take a look when he’d offered, but M42 had held my awestruck attention.

With plenty of time left in the night, and Taurus sinking toward the west, I swung the 12.5″ scope toward yet another Messier object I’d somehow avoided taking notes on. Nothing was going to compare to M42, of course, but I had to keep going.

10:37
M1 (NGC 1952; Tau): Comparing notes on the Crab Nebula with the other guys and everybody has said it looks particularly fine tonight, and it certainly does: not only is it bright, it’s also textured-looking, as if the famous tendrils are just outside the edge of resolution. The Crab is vaguely football-shaped, extending NP-SF, with an extra notch slightly to the SP; the brighter region is zigzag-shaped almost like, dare I say it, the S in the logo for the band KISS overlaid over the top of the dimmer layer. The nebula is 6’ x 4’ and has NP it, 6’ from the center of the nebula, an 11.5-magnitude star. 10’ N very slightly F the nebula is a 9.5-magnitude star; there’s a 10th-magnitude star F slightly S of the nebula by 7’, S slightly P the nebula by 10′ is the S-most vertex in an isosceles triangle that points S; that star is 11.5 magnitude and has another 11.5-magnitude star due N of it by 2’ and a 12th-magnitude star 2’ N somewhat F it; those two stars are 1.3’ apart. The famous tendrils in the nebula are just outside of the edge of resolution, and it seems like unfiltered I’m almost able to get something out of those, but just not quite. so I try to UHC There’s real tendril texture in the Crab with the UHC; there’s no doubt about it.  On the S edge, 2’ from P to F, there’s a small brighter section of the nebula that almost qualifies as a “central region” to it. But it’s definitely brighter and much better defined along the S edge. The nebula’s  shape has gotten a little more irregular with the UHC. In averted vision, there certainly seems as if there are stellarings among the nebulosity; these wouldn’t be stars because they would have been obliterated by the filter. With the O-III… I’m still getting those glimpses of what I think are stellarings, especially along the SP, where there are also glimpses of irregular texture again. The whole nebula has lost some of its shape and is more oval, as in a smaller-scope view of it. It’s very irregularly bright; I’m having a hard time distinguishing a shape to it, and a lot of the texture is indeterminate and hard to point out or describe. It really almost needs averted vision with the O-III in. The brightness is still irregular throughout the nebula; it’s a little rounder now than it was, as if there’s more faint nebulosity that’s been pulled in, but the texturing is very hard to define.

As with M42, the others stopped over to check out the Delos view. They’d already looked at the Crab in the course of their Marathoning, and agreed that it was particularly impressive on that night; Dan B paused in his sifting through of the Virgo Cluster to take a look, and we (of course) launched into the famous Ren & Stimpy bit about voyaging to the Crab Nebula (complete with pushing the History Eraser Button).

When I’d set my agenda for the evening, I’d hoped to get through the Orion Nebula, the Crab, and the three later-winter open clusters I still needed notes for: M41, M50, and M93. I’d already done the first three of those objects; the last two were already past the meridian, but still high enough to glean some intelligible musings from.

11:09
M93 (NGC 2447; Pup): M93 is one of the more under-appreciated Messier objects. The whole of the cluster reminds me a little bit of NGC 7510 in Cepheus in terms of shape and brightness, although it’s quite a bit larger, at 12’ x 6’. The majority of the cluster consists of two roughly-parallel streams of stars that diverge from the cluster lucida, which is very near the SP tip of the cluster; there’s a 10th-magnitude star 1’ S of it that is the very point where the two streams converge, and the lucida is the first one following it. The space between the two streams is somewhat filled-in with stars along the middle of the streams’ length. There are several clumps within and among the stars of the cluster but the most obvious feature is the two chains. The lucida is 8th magnitude, and there’s another one very close to it in brightness that’s F slightly N of the lucida by 1.67’. (The lucida is the brightest star in the field.) The N edge of the main body of the cluster is a 10’ arc of fifteen stars that sweeps from the 10th-magnitude star SP-NF up through the lucida in a curve, and then midway along it cuts P very very slightly S-F very very slightly N for the rest of its length. From the 10th-magnitude star through the second-brightest star that I mentioned (1.67’ F slightly N the lucida and NF the 10th-magnitude star by 2.3’), from that star, it sweeps (from that second-brightest star) in a roughly-straight line 9’ P very slightly S-F very slightly N; between the middles of those two arcs is the densest concentration of stars in the cluster; there’s a little bit of faint background glow in there. Those two strands are 3.5’ apart at the middle and 3’ at their F ends. In the middle of the S strand is a diamond of stars that’s 0.75’ x 0.5’; the major axis of the diamond runs NP-SF, and just outside the S end of the major axis of that diamond is a clump of four stars no more than 12” diameter. In the middle of the northern arc is an elongated ellipse or football shape, which is around the point where that arc bends. The S arc has twelve or thirteen prominent stars. S of the SF end of the cluster is a line of three regularly-spaced (1’ apart) roughly-equal brightness stars running NP-SF; those are all 10th magnitude, and the NP of those has an 11.5-magnitude star P it by 0.3’; these four stars may not actually be cluster members. M93 contains about 70 stars, with a huge magnitude range; that area in the middle, where it’s really dense, looks to have some 14th-magnitude stars in it, so the stars range from the 8th-magnitude lucida down to 14th magnitude. The cluster is quite rich and well detached from the background.

By the time I’d finished M93, my neck was sore from twisting to look in the eyepiece; the cluster had sunk quite low, and the seeing that low was mediocre at best. Fortunately, M50 was a bit higher.

11:33
M50 (NGC 2323; Mon): M50 is also quite an underrated Messier object, a fine cluster amid a sea of fine clusters in Monoceros. It’s vaguely roundish, perhaps 13’ across in its more-concentrated center. Along the S edge and including the lucida, running F very slightly S up to the lucida and bending NP from there, then continuing around the P side of the middle of the cluster, is a string of stars that must be 23’ long and breaks N at the P end for another 8’, terminating at the P end in two lines, one of which is almost N-S and has nine stars, and then P that is a S very slightly F-N very slightly P line of six stars, with its brightest star in the S end; those two N-ish lines are 3.67’ apart at their S ends and 5’ apart at their N ends; this entire line may or may not be part of the cluster, particularly the segments to the P. The lucida is 8th magnitude and has kind of a reddish cast to it (which is really unusual considering that I’m seeing it with colorblind caveman eyes), and it’s bracketed to the NP and F slightly S by a trio of star pairs: one to the NP ( 9.5 and 10th, 0.3’ separation, P somewhat S-F somewhat N) and then two F; that long line terminates on the F end at a roughly N-S pair that’s brighter (9th and 10th) and wider than the others, maybe 0.75’. From the lucida N slightly F by 7’ is the second-brightest star in the cluster, which is 8.5 magnitude and is the brighter of a pair, with an 11th-magnitude secondary 8” S very very slightly F. From the primary of that pair 3’ N slightly P is a 9th-magnitude star which has another 9th magnitude star P somewhat S of it by 1.5’; and that second star is the F end of a P-F line of stars that has seven stars in it and is 4.25’ long; it forms a long isosceles triangle with the lucida; that star on the F end of that line is 8’ N of the lucida. Inside that triangle with the lucida and that P-F line is the densest part of the cluster, especially toward the N half of that triangle; there must be 70 stars here. The cluster is well detached from the Monoceros Milky Way; it’s pretty rich, with a huge range of magnitudes, from the lucida down to 13th magnitude. From the lucida P somewhat N by 1.25’ is another 9.5-magnitude star that has a 10.5-magnitude star 0.3’ F somewhat N of it. 18’ N of the lucida of the cluster is a 9th-magnitude star. From the pair NP the lucida (the 9.5-10th magnitude pair that’s 0.3’ apart), running from the 10th-magnitude star through the 9.5-magnitude star and then P somewhat S for about 7’ is a line of about ten stars, most of which are considerably fainter, but on the SP end it has a clump of 11th-magnitudish stars, kind of a right triangle with a couple stars N somewhat F of the short edge of the right triangle.

I finished my notetaking by midnight; the others were well into the spring galaxy fields on the Messier Marathon “route.” I puttered about for a while, checking in on Markarian’s Chain in Virgo and some of the rising globular clusters. But I was essentially done for the night, and continued to observe only because it seemed like the thing to do until the others were ready to go. I’d never really felt that way before.

The view of the Orion Nebula had made everything else that night superfluous—if it was possible to have overdosed on the faint photons of celestial majesty, I would have been declared terminal from that first glance. Carl Sagan had once used the phrase “visions of cosmic splendor,” and he might well have been talking about what I had just seen, just experienced. It stuck with me as I loaded up the Flex, as I drove home—which I couldn’t even recall doing—and through work the next day, looming in the back of my brain like a fever dream, as Starry Night must’ve done for the young van Gogh… only my recorded words failed to capture the awe that van Gogh’s canvas froze in time.

II. The skies cleared again for the weekend. Having finished their first half-Marathon, Dan B and Jerry were keen to wait until the midnight hours before trying to complete their second, and with my winter objects finished, I could wait until later when my galaxy targets in Leo, Coma Berenices, Canes Venatici, and eastern Hydra would be closer to the meridian. Loren, too, had his quarry located in the spring constellations.

We met at 11:30 at the Eagle’s Rest amphitheater; Eagle’s Rest had the better forecast on the night. I’d taken an evening nap in preparation for what was going to be another intense night of Messier work—I only had an even dozen Messier objects remaining, and didn’t want to take any chances on April’s weather being sufficient for astronomy. It was clear this particular night, and I intended to make full use of it.

Dan and Jerry were already there, setting up; Loren arrived shortly after me. There was also a large, uprooted tree stump in the middle of the observing area, hauled there from who-knew-where, obviously for the purpose of being burned; it had somehow escaped that particular fate. Dan had perched whiskey glasses on the stump, to go with the well-stocked charcuterie that he’d brought with him.

There was a general sense of bonhomie as scopes were assembled and tuned up. With the sky already dark, it took little time for the observing party to get down to “work.”

I started off by browsing a bit, while waiting for my first objects in Leo to reach optimal observing position. I chose to open with M13, giving the new Delos “second light” on another object well suited to its extraordinary sharpness. And then it was time for the Messier homestretch.

03/18/23
EAGLE’S REST (amphitheater)
SUNSET: 7:22 PM
MOON: 26 days (rose at 6:12 AM; 16% illuminated)
SEEING: 7
TRANSPARENCY: 6
SQM: 21.32 (2:30 AM)
NELM: not checked
WEATHER CONDITIONS: temps in upper 40s; calm; negligible dew
OTHERS PRESENT: JO, DB, LR

All observations: 12.5″ f/5 Discovery Dob, 14mm TeleVue Delos (113x, 0.62˚ TFOV), or 7mm TeleVue Nagler (225x, 0.36˚ TFOV) unless otherwise noted

1:34
M96 (NGC 3368; Leo): M96 is considerably bright, with a 4.5’ x 3.0’ halo, extended NP-SF. The halo is not smooth; it has some texture to it. I can’t really decide if the galaxy has a large bright core and a stellar nucleus, or a gradually-arrived-at, small, blazing core without nucleus… I think the former, so I’m going with that. It appears to have a star embedded near the core/nucleus to the S slightly P,  just outside of that core/nucleus. The halo is rather poorly defined, although we have had lots of high cloud go through, so the transparency is not what it could be. The galaxy has an 11th-magnitude star 9’ NP it; there’s an 11.5-magnitude star 11’ F the galaxy, and that star has 11’ F slightly N of it a 9.5-magnitude star [which is outside the field]. 3.5’ P somewhat N of the galaxy is a 13th-magnitude star; 5.25’ F very slightly N of the galaxy is a 13.5-magnitude star.

1:44
M95 (NGC 3351; Leo): A quick jump over to M95, the Theta Galaxy, and it’s a little easier with this one to tell that it’s a small core versus a non-stellar nucleus; I don’t see a nucleus here at all. But it is quite bright in the core; the halo is considerably fainter; in averted vision, the halo stretches about 2.75’ across and is pretty much round. The halo fades away into the background and is poorly defined, but the core is very well defined and spans 0.3’. Due P the galaxy by 6’ is the brightest star in the field, which is 10th magnitude. That star is the “right-angle vertex” of an almost-right triangle, with a 12th-magnitude star 2.5’ NF and a 13th-magnitude star that’s 3.3’ NP. 7’ N of the right angle vertex is an 11.5-magnitude star that has a 13.5-magnitude star F very very slightly S of it by 0.75’ and a 14th-magnitude star S very very slightly P by 1.5’. From the galaxy 15’ NF is an 11th-magnitude star; from the galaxy 19’ F somewhat S is a 10.5-magnitude star that has S of it by 1.5’ a 14th-magnitude star.

The seeing was, at times, extremely variable; I had a particularly bad patch drift through as I was observing M95. The transparency wasn’t great, either, as I missed the entire, ring-shaped outer halo of the galaxy.

In the background, Dan and Jerry were discussing M29 in Cygnus, the “Cooling Tower.”

M83 has always been significant for me. It was either the last or the penultimate Messier object that I found with my trusty C8 (I can’t recall if it was M83 or M77 that was the last one; I’m leaning toward the latter), as it never rose above the horrendous light dome of Cincinnati to the south; by May, the Midwest humidity had begun settling in, making the light dome seem to hang in the air like real pollution. I’m reasonably sure I only spotted M83 then by catching it on a March morning soon after midnight, just as I was doing now. In Cincinnati, I had the advantage of five extra degrees of southern declination. In Oregon, I had the larger scope and better skies, even if it meant sitting on the ground—as was a common-enough scenario, and a source of jokes for my group in Carbondale, and as I was doing now, craning my neck downward to better access the eyepiece.

2:09
M83 (NGC 5236; Hya): M83 is way down in the dirt; it doesn’t have as well-defined a halo is it should because of its very low altitude from here; I’m sitting on the ground to observe it. The galaxy is very diffuse and very large; it’s about 7.5’ x 6.0’, with a small, very bright core that seems to be slightly off-center to the S. I suspect there’s more to the spiral arms that I’m not seeing, certainly in any kind of direct vision. The dimensions of the halo really come and go. It’s poorly defined; I know it’s well-defined from lower latitudes, but from here it isn’t, and I’m lucky to see it as well as I do. The core is 0.25’ diameter, but it seems extended P-F, more precisely P slightly S-F slightly N… maybe 0.25’ x 0.3’. Embedded in the halo 3.5’ P slightly S from the core is a 12th-mag star; F very slightly N by 3.5’ is a 13.5-mag star; SP the core by 7’ is a 10th-magnitude star (we may be dealing with atmospheric extinction down here too, in terms of magnitude) which is the SP end of a wedge (or flatted ‘V’), with the 12th-magnitude vertex star due F it by 4’, and then 2.25’ N slightly F
that star is a 10.5-magnitude star that has a 12th-magnitude star S very slightly P it by 10”; and then 1.3’ in the same direction, N slightly F that 10.5-magnitude star, is another 12th-magnitude star. Both sides of the wedge are 4’ long. 18’ F the galaxy is a 7th-magnitude star; F somewhat N of the galaxy by 28’ is a 6th-magnitude star. In averted vision, I occasionally get a sense of the short third arm of the galaxy, stretching out toward the P. And sometimes I get a sense that the ‘V’ is along the S arm of the galaxy, which would make the galaxy much larger than the dimensions I gave; every now and then in the muck down there it seems that those stars are wrapped in the edge of the halo, which would make the galaxy about 11’ N-S. The halo is not regularly bright, so I’m sure there is spiral structure that would be visible if the galaxy was farther south… or if we were farther south!

I took a brief break after M83, to stretch my legs and get SQM readings on the night. Jerry and Dan also took readings, and at the same point in the sky: at the juncture of Coma Berenices, Boötes, and Canes Venatici—appropriate, because that’s where I was going to be headed next. Although the club’s sky-quality meter often gave more-optimistic readings than Jerry’s and Dan’s, they seemed to largely be in concurrence tonight, after discarding the first readings: we averaged between 21.28 and 21.35… quite good for the amphitheater site.

It’s been noted by amateur astronomers across the United States that the last couple of years have seen an overall decrease in sky quality, and SQM readings in general have borne this out, whether from more-constant forest fire smoke, ash from Pacific volcanoes (really!), or from an unusually deep solar minimum (see https://www.nature.com/articles/s41598-021-02365-1), and possibly all three (and more) factors. At least for this particular night, we were right on our expected average reading for the amphitheater.

I’d forgotten what a beautiful object M64 is, and was appreciative of the opportunity to be reminded of it.

2:34
M64 (NGC 4826; Com): Here at M64, the lovely, fairly smooth-textured Black-Eye Galaxy in Coma, and the “black eye” is quite prominent tonight. M64 has a smoothish halo and a small bright core with a substellar nucleus. it’s elongated P somewhat N-F somewhat S and 6.0’ x 3.5’. The halo is not well-defined; this seems to be a night when the large galaxies don’t seem to be particularly well defined— whether that’s a transparency issue or just because that’s the way they are I can’t tell. The F edge of the galaxy seems to be more diffuse; and is a little better defined on the N edge than on the S. The notable feature here, of course, is the black eye, the dust cloud, that starts at the due F side of the galaxy along the major axis and runs clockwise around the N edge of the core just to the N very slightly P side of the galaxy; it’s difficult to make an estimate of how thick this cloud is against the backdrop of the galaxy, but it’s pretty easily visible in direct vision. The core is rather abruptly arrived at, and it has on the N slightly F by 4.3’ an 11th-magnitude star. N of the Galaxy by about 4’, and almost forming an isosceles triangle there with the galaxy and the 11th-magnitude star, is a 14.5-magnitude star; S very slightly F the galaxy by 4’ is another 14.5-magnitude star. 11’ S slightly F the galaxy is the brightest star in the field, which is 10th magnitude, and it has 2’ S very slightly F it another 14th-magnitude star; 3’ P slightly S from the 10th magnitude star is the brighter and more S of a pair; those are 14th and 14.5 magnitude, separated N somewhat P-S somewhat F by 0.3’, with the brighter star to the S. 10’ P very slightly S of the galaxy is an 11.5-magnitude star that is the middle of a line of five roughly evenly-spaced stars; this line is not perfectly straight, but runs 20’ N very slightly P-S very slightly F from a 13th-magnitude star and then hooks S somewhat F from the S-most of the first four stars, terminating with a 13th-magnitude star that is the fifth star from N to S. M64 is quite a lovely galaxy, one of the most aesthetically-appealing in the Messier Catalogue.

As I was taking notes on M64, Loren was searching out Longmore-Tritton 5, an obscure planetary in Coma Berenices, an unusual place for planetary nebulae (although there’s at least one other within the constellation’s borders). Dan and Jerry were discussing M9 and M14, being deep in the summer globular clusters by this point. I turned Bob the Dob northward from M64 for the last two Messier galaxies I needed notes on.

3:01
M94 (NGC 4736; CVn): I know M94 is a spiral, but it makes a pretty convincing elliptical, too: the galaxy is very bright and has a roundish 3.0’ halo which is quite diffuse but pretty well defined, with a small, very suddenly bright core and a stellar nucleus. The galaxy serves as the right-angle vertex of a triangle that extends almost perfectly N-S, P-F.  8.5’ N of the galaxy is a 9.5-magnitude star that has a 13.5-magnitude star 1.75’ N somewhat F it. 5.67’ due P the galaxy is an 11th-magnitude star that is the tip of a Sagitta-like asterism; it’s the arrowhead on the arrow, which runs basically along the hypotenuse of the right triangle of the galaxy is part of; so from the 10th-magnitude star it runs 2.67’ N slightly F to a 14th-magnitude star at the middle of the “Sagitta,” and then almost on the same line 1.5’ N slightly F
that star is a 14.5-magnitude star that has a 14th-magnitude star 0.67’ P very slightly N of it. 4’ S of the galaxy is a 12th-magnitude star that has another 12th-magnitude star F slightly S of it by 4.5’.

3:20
M63 (NGC 5055; CVn): M63 is my last Messier galaxy; it’s maybe not quite as bright as M94 but it’s much bigger. It’s elongated P very very slightly N-F very very slightly S, 6.0’ x 2.67’, with very diffuse, poorly-defined ends to the halo; it smears away into the background. The gradual core region is about 2.5’ and contains a distinct stellar nucleus that is pretty bright but really pops in averted vision. Despite the flocculent nature of the spiral arms, the halo is really quite smooth at this magnification, although it’s a fair amount fainter than the core; there seem to be two layers to the halo: a really faint, diffuse, poorly-defined part and an inner halo region between that and the core that’s maybe 5.0’ by 1.75’, which gradually brightens to the core. There’s a 9th-magnitude star P slightly N of the galaxy by 3.75’, and then 4.5’ P somewhat S of that star is a 10.5-magnitude star. S of the galaxy by 4.25’ is a 13th-magnitude star. 7’ F very slightly S of the galaxy is a 12.5-magnitude star that is the S-most in an arc of three that extends 0.75’ NP-SF; 0.67’ NP that star is one that’s somewhat fainter than the other two, at 13th magnitude, and then 0.25’ N very very slightly P that one is another 12.5-magnitude star. NP the galaxy by 16’ is a 9.5-magnitude star that has a 13th-magnitude star N somewhat F it by 1’.

Only a handful of Messier objects now: two summer clusters (M6 & 7), two summer nebulae (M16 & 17), and one hardly even worth the time to take notes on it.

3:37
M40 (Winnecke 4); NGC 4290 (UMa): We end the evening with the most disappointing Messier of all, M40, which is little more than a pair of 9th-magnitude stars, the more S of the two slightly brighter (so 9th and 9.2 magnitude); those are separated by 1’, P slightly S-F slightly N to each other. 8.5’ S very slightly F the fainter of M40 is an 11.5-magnitude star; there’s a 12th-magnitude star 5.75’ NP the brighter of the pair. 17’ S somewhat P the brighter of M40 is 70 Ursae Majoris, which is 5.5 magnitude, and then forming a right triangle with M40 and 70 UMa, 11’ due P the brighter of M40 and 14’ N of 70 UMa, is a small, very diffuse galaxy [NGC 4290] that’s very diffuse; it’s 1.5’ x 0.67’, oriented SP-NF, with a gradual, slightly-brighter core but no nucleus visible.

Somehow I missed NGC 4284, just P NGC 4290. I chalk it up to the skyglow of Eugene/Springfield, which swamped the entire northern quadrant of the sky, including the field of M40 and NGC 4290.

The others were packing up as I was finishing my notes; I had planned to observe longer, but it seemed a good time to call it a night. I’d accomplished everything I needed to for the night. I’d forgotten that I also needed M44, which in any event was already into the trees and would require another night to lay claim to.

III. That night would happen three nights later, on the following Tuesday… another work night, but with only one necessary object and the sky still darkening fairly early, it was well worth the damage to my sleep cycle. I could finish the Beehive and be home at the time I’d normally be winding down for the night anyway. Dan B and I made the trek back to the amphitheater—the site of the only clear forecast among EAS’ observing spots—to get in some last-ditch stargazing before the forecasted rains returned.

But the forecast tonight was better than the reality. There was a distinct softness to the sky, if not any actual visible haze or clouds. By the time scopes were assembled and darkness had started falling, it was obvious that the seeing was a mess—even Mars was twinkling. It was fortunate that my only necessary quarry on the night was a naked-eye open cluster; anything smaller, fainter, and/or more nebulous would be at a disadvantage competing with the barely-passable conditions.

One of the noteworthy features of M44 was the presence of a number of small, faint galaxies within the cluster’s borders. Many open clusters had galaxies “in” them, but few had galaxies as bright as those within M44. There were at least five NGC galaxies and one UGC visible on a photograph of the cluster that I was using as a locator chart; I had hoped to sweep up all of these during my observation, adding them to what was already sure to be a long audio recording. To that end, I’d brought the 20″ Obsession, rather than Bob the Dob, even though I’d used the 12.5″ scope on most (if not all) of the other Messiers. With the poor transparency, though, these galaxies wouldn’t appear as anything but pale shadows of themselves. I might see them, but taking notes on them wouldn’t be fair... or worthwhile.

The spring frogs of the Willamette Valley had serenaded us the previous night out at the amphitheater, but I had by this point become so focused on my note-taking that the ambient natural sounds didn’t even register; only unusual changes in the soundtrack made me take notice. Dan, however, had been creeped out by a sudden cessation of the frog noises on an earlier trip to the amphitheater, noting the hidden presence of a largish mammal in the area; he let me know, in no uncertain terms, that he was getting into his car if the frogs suddenly stopped their susurrations.

And they were certainly vocal on this night. I was more aware of them now that Dan had pointed out their collective song. One frog in particular was louder than the rest; his soloing was, in pitch and rhythm, the exact line played by David Cross’ violin starting at 0:58 of King Crimson’s “Larks’ Tongues in Aspic, Part I.” I made sure to record this for posterity.

Eventually the sky became dark, the lead frog chose a different song, and it was time to begin harvesting photons. I started with NGC 2903 and Hickson 44 in Leo; both looked surprisingly good, with NGC 3187 in Hickson 44 having real presence to it. I hoped that the Beehive would be as good. It wasn’t.

03/21/23
EAGLE’S REST (amphitheater)
SUNSET: 7:22 PM
MOON: 26 days (rose at 6:12 AM; 16% illuminated)
SEEING: 5
TRANSPARENCY: 5
SQM: 21.1 (11:30 PM)
NELM: not checked
WEATHER CONDITIONS: Temps to low 50s; slight breeze, no dew; sky indistinctly hazy and turbulent
OTHERS PRESENT: DB

All observations: 20″ f/5 Obsession Dob, 34mm Meade 5000 SWA (75x, 0.91˚ TFOV)

10:49
M44 (NGC 2632; Cnc): I had planned to take notes on M44 and then pick out the small galaxies within the cluster’s borders, but the conditions don’t warrant taking notes on the galaxies. So we’ll stick to the star cluster, starting with the bright triangle at the center of the Beehive, which is the cluster’s most-notable feature; I’m using the 34mm Meade, my largest-scale eyepiece, because the cluster itself is well over a degree… perhaps 80’. The S-most star [HD 73710] is the brightest in that triangle; not necessarily the cluster lucida, but certainly one of the brightest in it at 6th magnitude. It has a 7.5-magnitude star 1’ N very slightly P it; 1.3’ F the 6th-magnitude star is a 9.5-magnitude star. There’s a 10th-magnitude star 0.3’ F somewhat N of the 6th-magnitude star, and 6’ that same direction, F somewhat N of [HD 73710], is a 7th-magnitude star; SF [HD 73710] by 10’ is another 6.5-magnitude star [EP Cancri]; all these stars have haze around them from the poor sky conditions. So back to [HD 73710]: S very very very slightly F it by 8’ is another [Epsilon Cnc] that may actually be slightly brighter, maybe 5.5 magnitude, and could very well be the lucida of the cluster, at least of the central region; it has a 7.5-magnitude star P very slightly S of it by 2.25’. From [HD 73710] SP by 11’ is the N-most and right-angle vertex of a small right triangle; that star is 7.5 magnitude and there’s another of the same magnitude 0.75’ S slightly F that one, and then 1.5’ P slightly S of the right-angle vertex there’s a 6.5-magnitude star. From [HD 73710] 11’ NP is another 6.5 magnitude star [38 Cnc]; this rounds out the central region of the cluster, although there are also a number of fainter pairs here. 

18’ N of [HD 73710] is the F end of a long serpentine pattern that runs for about 20’ and contains ten bright stars including the star [40 Cnc] I measured to, so the “head” end of that snake is 6.5 magnitude and has a 9th-magnitude star 1.67’ N somewhat F it; there’s another 6.5-magnitude star [39 Cnc] P somewhat N of [40 Cnc] by 2.5’, and those three stars form a triangle that makes up the head of the snake in a Draco sort of manner. From there, the “snake” branches NP for three more stars to a 7.5-magnitude star which is the third beyond the head, and then it sweeps P somewhat S from that star for another four stars (plus a few fainter ones), and from that 7.5-magnitude star it continues another 16’ P somewhat S, terminating at an 8th-magnitude star [CY Cnc]. So that marks the obvious N edge of the cluster; there are a number of fainter stars dropped in over that, and there are about twelve more brightish stars in that N end, and especially at the P end of that snake pattern there’s a random scattering of fainter stars. From [HD 73710] S by about 19’ is another 7th-magnitude star, and that one has P very very slightly S of it by 10’ a 7.5-magnitude star [BU Cnc]; from the 7th-magnitude star 9’ S somewhat F is a 7.5-magnitude star [BN Cnc] that is the NP vertex of a thin rectangle: 0.67’ F slightly S of that star is the NF vertex of that rectangle, which is 10.5 magnitude. From the 7.5-magnitude star 2.5’ S somewhat P is an 8.5-magnitude star [BV Cnc] that has SF it by 0.67’ an 11.5-magnitude star; those make up that thin rectangle on the S vaguely central edge of the cluster. F the NP vertex of that rectangle by 9’ is one of equal magnitude [HI Cnc]. 25’ F somewhat N [HD 73710] is a 7th-magnitude star. The Beehive is obviously well detached from any of the surroundings; there’s very little surrounding it that’s noteworthy. It has quite a few 6th/7th/8th-magnitude stars in it, but not a lot in terms of density of fainter stars; there’s a substrate of 9th- and 10th-magnitude stars, but it’s not very rich. The cluster overall is fairly-well populated, with about 90 stars spread over an 80’ area, in a considerable magnitude range from 6th down to 10th; even though it’s only four magnitudes, it seems more significant due to the rich overlay of 6th-/7th-magnitude stars.

In order to encompass the majority of the Beehive, I’d switched to my less-used 34mm Meade 5000 SWA, Meade’s answer (ripoff) to the TeleVue Panoptic. This low magnification made the little galaxies among the Beehive stars nearly impossible to see, even if the sky conditions had allowed them to shine through. Feeling oddly optimistic, I swapped the Meade for the 10mm Delos and pulled up the reference photograph I’d intended to use for tracking the galaxies down. After a half-hour, I’d managed to pick up all five NGC galaxies and the UGC galaxy—none of them looked particularly distinctive, but the fact that I’d seen them at all was encouraging for a future opportunity.

I took down the big scope as Dan finished up his own observations; it was unusual for me to have completed my observing before everyone else. I took some SQM readings before stowing the scope in the Flex: 21.04-21.11 at zenith, and 21.10-21.12 between the Beehive and the Sickle of Leo. Even by recent standards, those numbers were low for the amphitheater, and were borne out in the reality of the conditions.

We left without regret. The next night the rains of winter returned, and they stayed until mid-May, leaving me with only hopes for the late spring, audio recordings of my wanderings through the last vestiges of the Messier Catalogue, and the glorious afterimage of the Orion Nebula etched forever into my memory.

More Warming Than Any Wine

A cruel, cloud-sodden winter is ending, without a single observing session since November. I had gotten a new Delos—a 14mm, to replace the 14mm Explore Scientific 82-degree that had been my workhorse until it shredded the threads on my O-III filter—for Christmas, with no opportunity to test it out. This was somewhat characteristic of Willamette Valley winters, but worse than usual; the one clear night the group had all winter, I was wiped out by a horrendous respiratory virus and spent that entire week in bed. Even the November session was awful, despite being at least somewhat productive.

I. The 18th was a Friday, an early-shutdown day at the factory, and predicted to be clear and of average transparency at least until Moonrise. Others in the EAS Irregulars had been out observing the Monday night before, when the weather had been milder. Now, the night after an EAS meeting, there were few takers despite Linslaw’s promise. It was also peak night for the 2022 Leonids, which had been reasonably active according to reports from around the country. This made it even stranger that no-one else wanted to venture out.

I loaded Bob the Dob (and related sundries) into the Flex, all systems go. My post to the e-mail list was greeted rather negatively; only Loren—who had grown up in Nebraska and North Dakota, and so was used to horrendous winter weather—was willing to brave the conditions. But how bad could they really be? I went off for an after-work nap; with Moonrise after 1 AM, it might be a good night for sweeping up many of the remaining Messier objects on my list, if nothing else. I didn’t have a “hardcore” agenda for the night, so it would be fairly-easy work.

When I woke up, it was already getting dark. This wasn’t as critical as it would’ve been earlier in the year; the objects on my evening’s list weren’t going to be in a good observing position for several hours yet. It would be a nuisance to drive out and set up in the dark, but hardly an insurmountable one. I made sure to put on every conceivable layer of clothing I could, and had charged the batteries to my electric gloves overnight. I was as ready, I thought, as I could be.

Loren was already there and raring to go. So was the wind, whipping across the crag and down into the valley. It took me all of ten seconds to realize why none of the others had come out–they’d all been reminded of the ghosts of winter Linslaw sessions past, when the wind and the cold combined to make even brief observations hazardous and unpleasant in equal measure. My question about how bad the conditions could be was answered with icy, seemingly gale-force derision.

As I was setting up, Loren let out a whistle—a Leonid, and a really bright one! I was too busy collimating my scope to have seen it. I’d missed a huge number of spectacular meteors that way, staring into the eyepiece at some vanishingly-faint target while the show went on above without my attention.

With the sky already sufficiently dark and telescope and gear assembled and ready, there was no time to waste. The Pleiades—my first deep-sky object, as I had seen them with my father’s 7 x 50 Korean War binoculars (without his knowledge) back when Carl Sagan’s Cosmos first aired—awaited, well above the Eugene skyglow to the east.

11/18/22
LINSLAW POINT
SUNSET: 4:43 PM
MOON: 24 days (rose at 1:03 AM; 28% illuminated)
SEEING: 6
TRANSPARENCY: 6
SQM: 21.27 (10 PM)
NELM: not checked
WEATHER CONDITIONS: temps to 37˚; no dew; windy; excruciatingly awful
OTHERS PRESENT: LR
All observations: 12.5″ f/5 Discovery Dob, 14mm ES 82˚ eyepiece (112x, 0.7˚ TFOV) or 7mm TeleVue Nagler (225x, 0.36˚ TFOV) unless otherwise noted

8:55
M45; The Pleiades (Tau): One of the two most insanely-detailed Messier objects, the Pleiades/M45 (the other being M42 itself, the Orion Nebula); there’s really no way to do good notes on this aside from picking one Pleiad and starting with it, so we’re going to use Alcyone [Eta Tau], because it’s the brightest of the lot (at 3rd magnitude). Alcyone has a small isosceles triangle of stars to the P and NP, the brightest star of which [24 Tau] is 2’ P slightly N of Alcyone and is 7th magnitude; it has an 8.5-magnitude star P very slightly N of it by 1.25’; that star has NF it by 1’ another 8.5-magnitude star. From Alcyone N slightly P by 11’ is a 7th-magnitude star; that star has P somewhat S of it by 4.5’ a 9.5-magnitude star. 17’ P somewhat N Alcyone is a 7.5-magnitude star, and that 7.5-magnitude star has a tight pair SP it by 4.5’; those are NP-SF each other, separated by 0.67’ and are both 8th magnitude; the one to the NP is a little bit brighter. [It’s hard to know where next to go from here!]… P somewhat N Alcyone by 29’ is the SF vertex in a trapezoid of stars with a very narrow NF end, or a narrower NF end; that star [20 Tau; Maia] is 4th magnitude and has P somewhat N of it by 10’ a 4.5-magnitude star [19 Tau/q Tau; Taygeta]. From the first star in that trapezoid N very slightly F by 10’ is the fainter [22 Tau; Sterope] of the two on the skinnier N end of the trapezoid; that star is 6.5 magnitude and has a 6th-magnitude star [21 Tau; Asterope] P very slightly N of it by 2.5’. From [Maia] N slightly P by 30’ is a 5.5-magnitude star [18 Tau] that has N of it a SP-NF asterism which consists of a rough parallelogram and a couple of stars on the NF end of it that form something like a “tail.” 

Back to Alcyone: S of it by 12’ is the N-most in that long, flattened ‘V’ that trails S-ward; it’s one of the defining features of the Pleiades. it has six primary stars, all of which are roughly in the 7th/8th-magnitude range; they seem to get a little fainter as they proceed S-ward; from the first of these S by 6.5’ is the second, and then S very very slightly P of that one by 4.75’ is the vertex star of that V; SF that star by 3.67’ is the next star; SF that star by 4.75’ is another, and then the last one is S somewhat F that star, and this last one is the faintest of the group and is about 4’ from the one NP it. The vertex star of the ‘V’ is the brightest of those in it. And then from the star at the S-most end of that ‘V’, F somewhat S by 12’, is a 5.5-magnitude star. 19’ SP Alcyone is Merope, which is 4th magnitude; from Merope P somewhat N by 22’ is another blazing 4th-magnitude star [17 Tau; Electra] that has a 5.5-magnitude star [16 Tau; Celaeno] N very slightly P it by 11’, and that star is 15’ P somewhat S the first star in the trapezoid [Maia] that I mentioned earlier. From Alcyone F very slightly S by 24’ is a 4th-magnitude star [27 Tau; Atlas] with a 5th-magnitude star [28 Tau; Pleione] N of it by 5’; that 4th-magnitude star has an 8th-magnitude star [26 Tau] S very slightly P it by 12’; [Atlas] has a 6.5-magnitude star S somewhat F it by 22’, and from [Atlas] SF by 17’ is a 7th-magnitude star that is the brighter component of a double; it has an 11th-magnitude star SP it by 5”. 

The Pleiades as a whole are about 1.5° in diameter; the cluster just goes on a long-ass way (scientifically speaking), and the nebulosity seems to be much brighter (or much more obvious, anyway) around the more-N stars in general—with the exception of Merope, which really seems to be the most nebulous of all of them. I’m not getting any kind of shape to the nebulosity; I could probably throw the 7mm in here and try to pick up that nebula better around Merope, but the wind is just too damned oppressive. This is obviously a cluster, despite its huge area; there’s little more than “dead space” around it, kind-of a ring of emptiness around the cluster, so it’s well detached. I don’t know that I would describe it as rich, but it’s so spread out that it’s hard to do an easy census here; I didn’t count all of the much fainter stars in here because there are obviously too many within the confines of the cluster—I’d be here all night. There’s obviously a pretty wide range of magnitudes here—even just between the 4th-magnitude stars and 9th-magnitude stars, there’s a five-magnitude range. So that’s the Pleiades, my first deep-sky object ever, and one of the most-difficult to do justice to with simple verbal notes. 

The Pleiades is (are) one of those objects far better observed in modest aperture—binoculars, small telescopes—than large aperture; the vast size of the cluster makes observations such as the one above a “forest for the trees” affair. The cluster, so beautiful when seen as a whole, loses its appeal when examining a few individual stars at once (as that’s all the relatively-tiny field of view of the 12.5-inch Dobsonian could gather). In binoculars, the Pleiades are a sight that will forever haunt the nostalgic corners of my caveman brain, a scattering of blue-tinted jewels on a tapestry of dark night. It was important to note this amid the boilerplate routine of my “formal” astronomical observations—what magic astronomy holds for its adherents isn’t often captured in the process of merely taking notes.

Given the incredible strength of the winds biting through my coat, sweatshirts, and other layers of clothing, it was fortunate that I knew my way to these Messier objects by heart, so as not to waste time; letting go of the telescope seemed to invite a wind-related accident. This was primal, even elemental stuff: survival astronomy. After briefly popping into the Flex to open up a six-pack of chemical hand warmers (into my pockets and parka mittens they went), and a quick perusal of the sky to assess the position of the Auriga clusters, I spun the telescope in that direction. The wind tried to spin it the other way.

9:37
M38; NGC 1907 (Aur): The second Messier of the night; I’m working in Auriga now, tackling the three bright ones there. M38’s major axis is roughly P-F; it’s about 18’ P-F by 16’ N-S. At the due N end of the cluster, there’s a long, N very very slightly P-S very very slightly F line of stars that’s the cluster’s most unmistakable feature; there’s a little detached clump of considerably-fainter stars there at the S end of the minor axis that may not actually be members of the cluster, but I used that to denote the S fringe of the cluster—if that’s not part of the cluster, then I’d say that the minor axis is about 13’. The line at the N end of the minor axis has about twelve stars in it and is fairly detached from the rest of that axis; there’s not a lot going on between that line and directly S-ward to that little clump on the end. The cluster is somewhat butterfly-shaped, with that line on the N as the head end. Overall, the cluster is very obviously a unified object; it’s quite well detached from the Milky Way background and very rich, with at least 125 stars here, most of these in a fairly-narrow range of magnitudes; there’s a large number in the 10th-11th magnitude range, and a sparser substrate of 11th/12th-magnitude stars. Then there’s a number that are fainter than that, in a third strata that’s comprised of 13th-14th magnitude stars. The lucida of the cluster, an 8.5-magnitude star, is on the far F end of the major axis, and that axis semi-terminates there. There’s a trio of stars NF that lucida and running N that are fairly-evenly spaced; those are all in the 12th-magnitude range. The major axis runs from the lucida P slightly S, roughly all the way across the cluster. The lucida is actually the brightest star in the field; 40’ SP it is a single reddish 6th-magnitude star. This is a particularly-impressive cluster; it’s hard to go into much detail with it because there’s such a uniformity of brightnesses in there. The stars are clumped in multiple places: there’s the line at the N and several more, along and around the minor axis; in particular, there’s the clump at the far S end of that axis, and then 3’ N somewhat P that clump is another, which is extended N-S and consists of a bunch of considerably-fainter stars than the average; those are all 13th-14th magnitude, but there’s a good number of them there; and then 4’ there’s N somewhat F or N slightly F that S-most clump is another that’s mostly triangular, but in averted vision shows a number of fainter stars peppering it. 

So that’s Messier 38, but 38’ S very slightly P its lucida is another small cluster [NGC 1907], which mostly consists of a 1.75’ circle of stars, but extends from that circle N slightly P-S slightly F; the S slightly F end is marked by two considerably-brighter (10th-magnitude) stars that are P very slightly N-F very slightly S to each other and separated by 1’; at the N slightly P end of that whole assemblage is an 11.5-magnitude star. That central clump is very rich; it has about 25 visible stars in it, over some background averted vision glow. Overall, the cluster is 5’, from the F of the pair to the S to the 11.5-magnitude star to the N slightly P. It’s quite easily visible as a cluster, a very rich little cluster, with about 50 stars in its borders. The two stars on the S end may not actually be part of it; if they aren’t, then the cluster has a pretty narrow magnitude range: mostly 12th-13th magnitudes, maybe a single 11th-magnitude star right at the center of the clump. A well-detached companion to M38.

While I was taking notes on M38, Loren was observing Jones 1, the huge planetary nebula in Pegasus and a favorite of mine; I stopped over for a look and to help verify the sighting. It seemed stronger in his 18-inch Obsession than I expected on this night. I had visually estimated the sky at 21.4 on the SQM, but hadn’t had a chance to actually take readings.

Holy hell, it was horrendous up on the crag. The wind was knifing through my many protective layers as if I wasn’t even wearing them. My electric gloves were still holding up, but when they finally gave out, it would be miserable—no chemical warmers would be able to fend off this wind chill. It almost felt like jumping into a bath of ice water, only doing so every five-to-ten seconds… which was how often the wind blasted across the crag. When I finally got out the SQM, it not only gave consistent readings in the 21.27-21.25 range, it also repeatedly gave temperature readings of 37˚ F. It felt much colder. Having been in Fairbanks, Alaska, in -57˚ F, I honestly couldn’t recall which felt worse. I’d had to take off my gloves to use the SQM, and my hands were raw by the time I was done holding the little device aloft.

I’d only have enough left in me to take notes on the remaining two Auriga Messiers; given how long my audio notes were, I’d be lucky to make it through both.

10:06
M36 (Aur): This is the second of three in Auriga, M36, and damned if this one isn’t roughly the same orientations as M38—it’s much brighter, but P-F it’s about 15’, and N-S roughly the same; I’m going to call it circular, even though the actually pattern resembles a stick figure like the butterfly of M38 or the ET cluster, only richer across the middle. In this cluster it’s a little harder to ascertain a lucida, as there are several stars that could fit the bill; there are two on the very N (actually a little bit N slightly P) from the main body of the cluster; there’s one on the SF and one on the SP that could be the lucida; even more notable is a pair separated by 10” that lies just F the center of the cluster; those are roughly equal at magnitude 9.5. That pair is roughly just SF the center of the cluster; there’s also a 9th-magnitude star P very slightly N of them by 1.5’ that I’d say is at the center of the cluster. This is an obvious cluster; again, its individual stars are brighter than those of M38, with a field of dimmer stars overlain by a strata of 9th/10th-magnitude stars; there’s an area several arcminutes in diameter at cluster center that contains the greater concentration of fainter stars. The two stars to the N end are P very very slightly S-F very very slightly N to each other; those are about 2’ apart and roughly equal magnitudes, with the one on the F a little bit brighter; those are 9.5 and 10th magnitude; the P of those two has a 12.5-magnitude star P very slightly S of it by 0.3’. There’re about 80 stars here; it’s less rich than M38; many of the stars are in the shape of a capital ‘A’ that basically comprises that minor axis, the N-S axis, and then there’s a string of three to the F that kind of trail off F slightly N and form the left arm of a stick figure with the ‘A’ at the center. (The right arm is composed of a string of 10th/11th magnitude stars. If anything, this cluster kinda resembles a five-point star, except doesn’t come to a nice sharp point at the N end.) Then 11’ SP the 9.5/10th-magnitude pair is a 9th-magnitude star that has a 12th-magnitude star 0.67’ N somewhat F it, and those two mark the SP corner of the cluster. If I can identify a single lucida I think it’s a star in the SF quadrant, which is 6’ S somewhat F the double or pair at the middle and is 9th magnitude.

My left hand suddenly registered as having gotten cold—the amber light on my glove had gone out. I had a spare battery in my pocket, but I’d have to take both gloves off to swap the batteries. By the time I managed to get the spare battery hooked up (they were about the size of a flip-phone), my hands were both almost numb.

Loren, having observed three of the planetary nebulae he’d been pursuing (Jones 1, NGC 7139 in Cepheus, and Abell 82 in Cassiopeia), tore down his scope for the night, the better to watch for Leonids (and, I thought, to escape from the wind if the conditions continued to worsen. They did.).

I noted: “… the wind and the cold have just gotten so vicious that it’s not really much point in continuing beyond this one aside from self-hatred.” They may be the truest words I’ve ever spoken into my notes.

M37 has long been a favorite; this was made permanent in my mind at Northern Arizona University, where I ran the 24″ Arthur Adel Cassegrain telescope on Friday public-outreach nights. Our binder of outreach-worthy objects called this one “The Gold-Dust Cluster,” and while I’ve not sussed out the origins of the nickname, it’s certainly an apt one.

10:30
M37 (Aur): This is M37, the richest of the Messier clusters after M11, a spectacular object with (just as with M11) its lucida conveniently dead in the center. The cluster is about 16’ round, with a very rich 6’ central concentration, and along the outer F and SF perimeter there’s a kind of a ring of stars; there’s also a triangular 3’ x 2’ clump on the N end that’s detached from the rest of it; to the P there’s a scattering of fairly random-looking and “non-patterned” stars. This is obviously a cluster, very detached from the background and the rest of the Auriga Milky Way; like M38, it has a fairly narrow magnitude range (mostly in the 11th-12th magnitude range); the lucida, just about right at the center, is 9th magnitude and really stands out when you first examine the cluster. There must be 200 stars here! After the lucida, the next-most noticeable feature of the cluster is the dark nebulosity that seems to pervade it; running N-S and F the lucida, and spanning basically the whole N-S length of the cluster, is a vein of dark nebulosity that branches to the P from its N end and cuts across most of the cluster in a 7’ x 1.67’ vein that runs across the N part of the cluster, then bends due S at a right angle towards its F end, runs F the lucida for about 9’, and then ends – that strip is about 0.75’ wide, and at the S end of that, it splits NF and SP. From the lucida SF is a minor vein of that dark nebulosity which connects to the larger N-S strip; that area has no visible stars from the lucida SF. That SP-NF strip at the end of the N-S vein also has another one running parallel… no, it’s not so much that it runs parallel, it’s that there’s just a giant blob there. That whole SP-NF bit of nebulosity on the S end of the cluster is in total 4’ thick at the NF end and 5’ or 6’ on the SP end and runs 10’ long; instead of being two parallel strips, it’s a single big one that’s got a faint incomplete line of stars that runs across its major axis, and looks like it divides the darkness into the two individual discrete dark nebulae, but it doesn’t; it just overlays that larger one. On the P edge of the cluster and also running N-S is a long 12’ vein of dark nebulosity that’s variably thick; there’s about 12-13 stars overlaying it that don’t break it up into smaller chunks. From the lucida due F by 7’ is a pair, N very slightly P-S very slightly F, separated by 1’; those are both 10.5 magnitude, and the S-most of the two has a 13th-magnitude star 0.3’ N very slightly P it; it’s actually a line of three. The brightest star in the field is S very slightly P the lucida by 20’ and is 8.5 magnitude, and that star has 9’ P slightly S it a 6.5-magnitude star that’s just outside the field with the cluster centered.

I don’t believe I’ve ever packed up so quickly, or with absolutely zero regrets. The five minutes it took me to break down Bob the Dob—which I had to do without gloves (the battery in the right-hand glove had died as well, leaving me with one gloved hand and one in a parka mitten)—were excruciating, made worse by the torque I needed to use in order to get the truss poles free. By the time I was done, my fingers felt as if I’d ripped the skin off of them down to the bone.

I loaded the scope parts and sundries into the Flex, bundling up against the wind even further as the hatch closed. Loren hadn’t seen any Leonids in the twenty minutes since he’d put his scope away and, despite his greater hardiness, had had enough. I started to exchange pleasantries, and he said what we’d both been feeling.

“[Screw] this—let’s get outta here!”

We Interrupt This Program…

… for a profanity-laced political broadcast on behalf of the Sensible Party.

When I started this blog back in 2014, I told myself that I would never stray from its purpose as an online journal for my astronomical observations and other astronomy-related musings (equipment reviews, astronomy news, etc.) I also told myself that I wouldn’t get into political discussions within my posts; aside from some commentary about the local sovereign-citizen/military hardware dinguses—the kind who start forest fires at our observing sites—I’ve managed to hold true to that promise as well.

That promise to rise above political commentary here look a beating this last week, courtesy of the Florida state legislature: a micro-brained Florida congresscritter named Jason Brodeur introduced a bill in session that would require any blogger who writes about Governor-Clown Ron DeSantis, his right-hand meat-puppet Ashley Moody, or any other member of the Florascist Executive Cabinet or legislature to register with the state or be fined for writing about them. Furthermore, the writer of such a blog post would have to pay every time they update the blog following a mention of any member of the Florida executive, legislative, or judicial branch.

The bill, Florida Senate Bill 1316: Information Dissemination, can be read here. Local reporting of it can be read here.

Although I am not a paid blogger—at least not yet—and this bill specifically targets those who earn income from blogging, the implications are clear, and the slippery slope is both a steep slope and very slippery: criticism of the fascists running the state of Florida will not be tolerated and will, gradually, be stamped out. DeSantis—a tiny, pitiful gastropod of a man—already made his intentions clear this year when he replaced the Board of Directors governing the Disney property with a team of hand-picked cronies, from the semantic prototype of Karen herself to an Alex-Jones-quoting nutball preacher, all because Disney had the temerity to do the right thing (for once) and speak out against DeSantis’ “Don’t Say Gay” horseshit. (gay gay gay gay gay gay gay.) Now, he (in all likelihood acting through bootlicking toadies like Brodeur) is seeking to control the narrative in case those meanies in the blogging community dare question his AUTHORITAH. What is it about these authoritarian assgaskets that they can’t handle being mentioned in a negative light? They would’ve never survived the days of Johnny Carson or David Letterman monologues, let alone someone as unfiltered as the great venom-slinger himself, Frankie Boyle. If they can’t handle the criticism, they shouldn’t invite it so blatantly.

My apologies for this reluctant but necessary digression. But as a writer, I won’t stay silent while (literally) free speech is stifled by Generalissimo DenebianSlimedevil and his appalling Gormlesstapo, a loathsome collection of spirochetes who have plans to take their localized infection to the national body politic. Because once they’ve started going after those who profit from words, they’ll try to do the same with those of us who write for free. Brodeur’s bill, regardless of whether it passes, is a clear shot across the bow of the 1st Amendment, and there’s little to suggest the current American judiciary would find cause to intervene should it be enacted into law.

Gold in My Pocket

The mid-October Moondark phase (roughly from Third Quarter to First Quarter) seemed promising, at least based on the Clear Sky Chart forecasts. With the sky darkening at a decent hour, I would be able to get home from work, eat dinner, and get to whichever site we would decide to use on a given night—especially if the scope was already loaded into the car.

Several days before the Moon gave us a suitable respite from its presence, I had gotten an email from a local fellow with a telescope to donate: “a 90mm scope, numerous eyepieces and filters.” And so on the Sunday before the dark run commenced, Mrs. Caveman and I ran over to pick up the gear from the very kind gentleman on our way to a visit with some friends at a local winery.

Those friends included Loren and his wife Donna, and about halfway through our visit, I decided to open up the case and box of telescope gear for Loren and I to sift through. “Christmas in October,” I called it.

The scope turned out not to be one of the ubiquitous ETX-90 Maksutov-Cassegrains of which we’d had at least a dozen donated since I’d been in the club, but a 90mm Orion MakCass of better quality: the mechanics were solid, and the optics looked pristine. It came with a 26mm Orion Sirius Plossl (a decent beginner eyepiece) and a 1.25” Shorty Barlow for doubling the magnification of the Plossl, a couple of Tasco 0.965” eyepieces (oddly, although these will pair with my 1950s-vintage 60mm Tasco refractor, if they’re usable), a bunch of camera filters, and, even more oddly, a slide-projector lens. There was also a like-new Telrad and an old University Optics 8 x 50 right-angle correct-image finderscope with helical focus and a purplish-blue color not unlike that of Meade’s classic era; this had an odd crosshair pattern to it that I’d never seen used before. Loren’s eyes lit up at the finder.

We seem to have telescope “harvests” every couple of autumns or winters, in which several telescopes (and their related sundries) get donated to EAS out of the blue; these almost always have hidden gems in their cases or boxes. While we haven’t yet had a full harvest this year, this small donation did indeed bring with it several pearls of great price, as I discovered upon opening a small wooden box that came in the larger paper-ream box in which the whole lot was given to me.

The box contained eyepieces… but what eyepieces they were.

The first one I noticed was a homemade-looking thing, with huge eye and field lenses and a tarnished bare-metal barrel that was etched with “1-1/8” and “43x” on it (whatever scope gave it 43x I couldn’t say); the lenses were a bit scuffed, but otherwise seemed in decent shape for having been left unprotected in a box filled with rotting foam and other metal things rolling around in it. This was followed by a 4mm Criterion Ortho, Criterion being a long-defunct manufacturer of good telescopes from about 1950-1981.  There was also a filter of indeterminate type; judging from the reflective coatings, it was some sort of nebula filter.

But the real gems were still in the box, in battered old Ziploc-style baggies: a trio (25, 12, and 8mm) of Clavé asymmetric Plössls, possibly of the 3rd Generation, before Clavé was bought by Kinoptic. This was a staggering find; I whistled when I unwrapped them from their worn-out baggies. Clavés are some of the best European eyepieces ever made, perhaps only bested by Zeiss’ Abbé Orthoscopic eyepieces, which could fetch anywhere from $4500-$9000 for a complete set, depending on condition. The Clavés aren’t quite so pricey, but were still valuable. These were in surprisingly good condition, given that they’d been stored and forgotten with no eyepiece caps and nothing but thin bits of plastic to protect them. To say that I was stunned by the discovery would have been an understatement. 

(Dan B, telescope-lending coordinator for EAS, was less enthused. “Tarnished, patina’d brass,” he would later call them, more interested in stuff that we could loan out with telescopes than in relics of bygone eras of amateur astronomy.)

This changed my observing calculus a bit for the next few sessions. I needed to give these eyepieces some thorough testing; if their glass was in as good a shape as it looked, the Clavés might be a bonanza for EAS’ planetary observers.

I. My first opportunity to put the new gear to the test came on the Friday after we got it.

Eureka Ridge had opened for the hunting season; Jerry, Dan B, Loren, and Robert joined me in the small ridgetop clearing, having taken turns using Jerry’s grass whip to beat the vegetation down to a suitable length. (It was a matter of extreme annoyance that the road was open for the hunters, as it was assholes and their gun fetishism who had gotten the site closed in the first place.) The conifers that ringed the southern edge of the clearing had grown quite a bit since our last session there, but it was still as good a place to spend a night’s observing as anything outside of Linslaw.

It was a night that had to be short. Mrs. Caveman had spent the week in DC, and was due to come home that night; at the last moment, Loren’s wife Donna asked if she could pick up Mrs. C at the airport, letting me off the hook. Nonetheless, I felt somewhat duty-bound to be there when she got home. 

Rather than any of my own gear, I took the new scope and its assemblage of eyepieces. (I forgot the finderscope, which Loren had wanted to borrow.) Setup was remarkably quick—I attached the slow-motion mount to the camera tripod and the scope to the mount. Done. 

But to what end? The sky was considerably smoky—still—as a result of the Waldo Lake (Clear Creek) fire, which seemed as if it would burn forever. We could tell even before the sky got dark that the transparency was mush; it might’ve been poor even if there’d been no smoke at all. It hardly mattered, though; Moonrise was at 9:15, so none of us were expecting a night of “serious” observing anyway.

The 90mm Orion was a bit wobbly on the mount, but with the 26mm Sirius Plossl, the views—of M11, Saturn, Jupiter, and eventually the Moon—seemed quite sharp. The scope was easy to bring to (and keep) focus, stars were tiny pinpoints, and the Cassini Division in Saturn’s rings was visible even at such low power and in such mediocre conditions.

Of course, I wasn’t there to test the Sirius. With an unexaggerated air of anticipation, I put the 25mm Clavé in the focuser.

The view was sharp, but… it was still a 25mm eyepiece, no matter the quality. Nothing suggested that it was degraded or damaged in any way, fortunately, so at least there was that.

The other two Clavés, the 12 and 8mm, yielded similar results: they were quite sharp, but between the conditions and the 90mm MakCass primary optics, I wasn’t blown away by them. They certainly weren’t lacking in any aspect, but this was obviously not the best test of their performance. One criterion of note, though—the Clavés were extremely lightweight compared to more-modern designs with twice the internal glass.

I left shortly after moonrise, so that I would be home before Mrs. Caveman got there. The others stayed behind, no doubt amused by my fascination with low eye relief and narrow fields of view.

II. The next night held greater potential, forecast-wise and in terms of equipment. Having tested the 90mm Orion a bit, I decided to go for broke; the 20-inch Obsession was the weapon of choice, and Linslaw the site of its deployment. I still brought the Clavés along, despite the admonition that they were better-suited to focal ratios much slower than the Obsession’s f/5.

There were no vehicles parked at the top when we arrived this time. It was the only thing that went right all night.

The sky was a dull, faded blue as I set up; Dan and Loren arrived as I began putting the big scope together. 

I was in the process of collimating the scope when I heard Loren curse. This by itself wasn’t unusual, but then Dan let out a swear of agreement.

The rear passenger-side tire on Loren’s truck was flat.

We’d pretty much expected someone to get a flat at one of our sites; the rough, bumpy roads made it a matter of when, rather than if. I stayed out of the way as Loren and Dan tackled the tire change, as the last thing they needed was a semi-human nosing into the process. I noticed as they were working on the tire that the valley in the distance was filling up with fog.

The process of changing the tire was itself a disaster. Loren’s truck seemed to be hiding the jack and tire iron; it was easier to get them from Dan’s truck than to find them in Loren’s (or even in the manual for Loren’s). Worse, they couldn’t locate the spare, and when they did, the assembly that held it under the truck had rusted so badly that it was impossible to spring the spare free from its housing. All in a truck that Loren had bought new only a few years ago.

Loren and Dan took another set of turns trying to break the spare free as Jerry pulled up. He also took a turn at the stubborn spare, but they all decided it was a futile effort after the third go-around. With no tire available, there was only one choice: Dan and Loren would make the 45-minute drive back to Eugene, grab a tire from Dan’s truck, and drive back. Otherwise, they’d be leaving Loren’s truck at Linslaw overnight until Loren and Donna could get the tire changed. That left me and Jerry to wait until they returned, making use of whatever the sky gave us.

Which wasn’t much, honestly. The sky was as smoky—or moreso—as the previous night. I browsed around the usual setting summer showpieces; those lower in the sky suffered badly from the smoke and horizon gunk. Even at higher altitudes, the deep-sky objects available were clearly diminished by the conditions.

But we made the most of it. I took no notes on anything, as it “wouldn’t be fair” to the objects. Jerry had started watching a transit of Europa across Jupiter’s clouds; I swung the Obsession over that way, only for Jupiter to be too low—the roof of the Flex blocked the view.

Loren texted: they were going to his house to get a tire from his other truck. He told us we were free to leave, but we chose to wait anyway. The smoke seemed to be clearing slightly, so there was potential for better observing within the next few hours. Dan inquired about the conditions; I told him things might be looking up. (Awful pun unintended.)

It was while I was atop the ladder observing NGC 7789—Caroline’s Rose—that I noticed that the fog had crept right to the edge of the crag. Jerry hadn’t noticed it either, and it provoked “oh, shit” exclamations from both of us. Within a few minutes, the fog rolled up the edge of the crag and blanketed the whole mountaintop. My observing was basically over for the night; Jerry stayed watching the Europa transit, sharing the view once I had covered up the Obsession’s primary mirror.

Eventually, even Jupiter was buried in the fog. Jerry packed up his trackball scope, which took all of five minutes. I began tearing down the Obsession; with the upper cage and truss poles removed, I was able to show Jerry how loose the ground-board mounting bolt had gotten. As it was a captive bolt, there wasn’t much we could do about it on-site, so we made plans to do a tune-up day with some of the club scopes, before wrestling the huge mirror/rocker-box assembly up the ramps into the Flex.

We heard Dan’s truck well before the headlights flashed across the west side of the crag; the fog made them seem almost tangible. Loren unloaded the fresh tire. It wasn’t the right size; as it was slightly bigger than the other tires, Jerry suggested putting it on the front of the truck and bringing one of the front tires to replace the flat one, so as not to cause problems with the differentials. (I, of course, knew absolutely zero about this sort of thing.)

It took the three of them less than fifteen minutes to finish the job. Dan hadn’t assembled his scope and Loren hadn’t even started unloading his, so there was nothing remaining to be stowed beyond jacks and tire irons. After a search of the observing area, we headed down the mountain: I led the caravan, being least-likely to be useful should Loren have trouble with the oversized tire; Dan followed me, then Loren, with Jerry following behind to make sure Loren made it to Springfield without incident. 

The drive home was mostly fog-free, even as we dropped in elevation. I pulled into the driveway to a clear but hazy sky, Jupiter and the few bright stars visible from my yard shining softly through the smoke and light pollution.

III. Night Three of the October dark-sky run finally found me getting some notes on objects, although it was not without its own travails. (How disappointing that a rare week of clear, Moonless October skies was so beset with [admittedly First-World] problems!)

With forecasts all over the map, we settled on the Oxbow as our site of best opportunity. As it was mid-week, and I was working, this was a bit more of a strain; the treacherous hour-long drive meant that I’d have to leave by midnight in order to get home at a decent time (it would still result in a 19-hour day and only four hours’ sleep before the next… but this was science!). I was in need of some solid observing time, and some progress on my various projects, so I wasn’t going to quibble.

I arrived at the pullout first; Loren, Robert, and Jerry pulled up not long afterward. The sky was smoky but looked to be passable—given the previous couple of observing attempts, this was good enough. Scopes were assembled and the long, chatter-filled wait for darkness began.

The great drawback of the Oxbow as an observing site is its relative remoteness; even at Linslaw, we were able to receive Internet and phone signals. But on this paved area on the side of a maintained county road, we seemed to be farther from civilization than at any of our off-road observing haunts. One manifestation of this is the fact that there’s no contact with the “outside world,” in that our phones are essentially cut off due to lack of signal. As a result, I can never access the POSS images from Sky Safari, which are useful in finding difficult field galaxies.

Normally, that’s all that I would have to put up with. Tonight, though, my phone decided to be a colossal asshole, first with the TriAtlas; in attempting to access the app, I got a prompt of “Unable to Verify App: A connection to the App Store is required for the first launch of TriAtlas on this iPhone. Please connect to the Internet and try again.” What in the sweet tapdancing Cthulhu was this? I’d used the TriAtlas for years, on every phone I owned. What was this “first launch” crap, and since when did I have to have Internet service for basic apps?

At least Sky Safari worked… for about a half hour, long enough for me to track down my first two targets: a Shakhbazian-esque galaxy chain in Aquarius, noted by New York amateur Ivan Maly on the Deep Sky Forum; and Herschel “remainder” galaxy NGC 7183, which lay nearby. The galaxy chain, anchored by the galaxy PGC 68036, was an averted-vision smear of light, completely without detail. I spent about ten minutes with it before acknowledging that it wasn’t going to yield enough to take notes on, at least tonight.

NGC 7183 did show enough. I switched from Sky Safari to the Voice Recorder app, ready to take notes on it….

…and immediately got the “Unable to Verify App” prompt.

For such a spiritual pursuit, astronomy certainly can bring out the off-color language; I don’t recall which profanity was the first one out, but I’m pretty sure I got to them all. I’m also sure I had to restrain myself from chucking my phone over the edge of the paved overlook. Without the Voice Recorder app, my evening was essentially over already; I’d driven an hour for almost nothing. Even though the sky wasn’t great, I’d really hoped to make some progress on my various observing projects, only to be thwarted by some inexplicable out-of-the-blue bit of operating system nonsense. (Nonsense being a much nicer word than I’d originally typed.)

The clincher: clicking back to Sky Safari brought up the same. damned. prompt.

My phone was essentially locked up, and with it, my ability to find objects, my ability to describe objects, and, well, even my actual list of objects for the month. I sat in my chair for a few minutes, tracking NGC 7183 pointlessly… until a light bulb went off overhead.

Purchased apps might not work, but what about native apps? Like the Voice Memos app that comes inboard with the phone?

I brought up the app. No prompt! Just as importantly, I still had my Jumbo Pocket Sky Atlas in the Flex—if I could remember some of my planned targets, I could make things work out at least a little bit in my favor. But first, I already had a suitable target in the eyepiece, and another I found along the way….

10/18/22
THE OXBOW
SUNSET: 6:24 PM
MOON: 23 days (set at 3:51 PM; 37% illuminated)
SEEING: 6, 5
TRANSPARENCY: 5, 6
SQM: 21.11
NELM: not checked
WEATHER CONDITIONS: temps to mid-50s; slight dew; air still; cool but not cold
OTHERS PRESENT: JO, LR, RA
All observations: 20″ f/5 Obsession Dob, 14mm ES 82˚ eyepiece (181x, 0.45˚ TFOV) or 7mm TeleVue Nagler (363x, 0.21˚ TFOV) unless otherwise noted

8:48
NGC 7183 (Aqr): It’s a smoky night but the sky is decent anyway. This galaxy is large, elongated roughly P-F, extending to 2.25’ x 0.67’. It has a quite diffuse, poorly-defined halo. There’s a smallish, somewhat-brighter core; at this magnification there doesn’t seem to be a nucleus. To the S somewhat P and S somewhat F are a couple of brighter field stars; the brightest in the field is the star S somewhat F, which is 10th magnitude; the star to the S somewhat P is 11.5 magnitude; both are 3.75’ from the galaxy and are 3.5’ apart, aligned roughly P-F to each other. From the galaxy P somewhat N by 3’ is a 12.5-magnitude star. There’s a 14.5-magnitude star 3.5’ P slightly S of the galaxy and a 10.5-magnitude star 12’ P somewhat S of the galaxy; there’s also a 15th-magnitude star N very slightly P the galaxy by 2.25’. The 7mm Nagler does nothing for the galaxy; it’s so diffuse that it’s hard to see at all now, and there’s no nucleus even at this magnification. 

I stumbled across the next galaxy while searching for NGC 7183. I probably had already taken notes on it, as it was a really impressive object, and was probably in one of the Herschel lists I’d already done. But here, with the 20-inch Obsession and an observing agenda I couldn’t access, there was no reason not to take notes on it again.

9:20
NGC 7184 (Aqr): This is the very impressive (even in the gunk) NGC 7184. I’d imagine this one needs much better skies to see the full extent; it’s 5.5’ x 1.0’ (at the middle) at 80˚ PA; it tapers quite a bit at the ends of the spiral arms. Near the F end of the galaxy is a 13th-magnitude star that’s surprisingly less distracting than it should be. The galaxy has a large bright core and an occasionally-visible stellar nucleus. The core at times seems round and then at times seems like it smears toward the F—maybe both? Under better conditions I’d say the halo is probably mottled; it’s much more diffuse and not particularly well defined, especially on the P end. Along the F side are a couple of stellarings along the F side, along the length of it, that are occasionally visible in direct vision but are easier in averted. It especially seems like 1/3 of the way from the nucleus to the star on the F end, and slightly S of that line, there’s a particular stellaring that’s brighter [this is actually an embedded 15th-magnitude star]. That star on the F end is about 2.5’ from the nucleus; from the nucleus 5’ P is a 13th-magnitude star that has an 11.5-magnitude star NP it by 1.25’; from that star 3.75’ N somewhat P is a 12.5-magnitude star that has another 12.5-magnitude star 1’ N very slightly P it, and then from the 11.5-magnitude star (the more N of that first pair) P very slightly S by 6’ is a 12th-magnitude star. A great galaxy!—I didn’t intend to takes notes on it, but why not?? With the 7mm, the stellarings and the nucleus are more apparent, but focus is too indeterminate down there.

I don’t actually recall how I found NGC 7392; it’s not on the Pocket Sky Atlas, and with Sky Safari and the TriAtlas both kaput, I had no other means of finding it (or identifying it, had I swept over it). Perhaps I remembered it being close to Neptune (which I had just finished observing). Regardless, I ended up with notes on it somehow.

9:39
NGC 7392 (Aqr): A really considerably bright galaxy, this is currently not far from Neptune, really, but it’s also just P the bottom of the “streams of water” in Aquarius. The galaxy is elongated 110˚ PA, so P somewhat N-F somewhat S, and spans 1.5’ x 0.67’. The halo is pretty well defined; it has a large, substantially-brighter core that’s not very gradual, and a definite stellar nucleus (especially in averted vision). It’s not super easy to hold in direct vision at this altitude, but it’s doable. N of the galaxy by 1.67’ is a 13th-magnitude star that has a 14.5-magnitude star 0.67’ N of it; from that star N slightly F by 2.25’ is the brightest in the field, which is 11.5 magnitude. From the galaxy F somewhat S (so along its major axis) by 2.67’ is a 13th-magnitude star; there’s another 13th-magnitude star S of the galaxy by 4.5’. With the 7mm: seeing is dogsh*t down here, but the nucleus looks a little less stellar. Another really nice galaxy!

Among all the deep-sky objects, my favorite targets to observe are globular clusters and galaxies—particularly galaxies in groups, and even more particularly galaxies in chains or strings. A large-aperture telescope is generally necessary for these latter objects, given the scarcity of available subjects, although there are some fine examples to be had with more-modest scopes.

The best of these—and the finest in the northern sky—is the NGC 383 chain in extreme northern Pisces, up near the Andromeda border. This chain is one of the most-obvious segments of the massive Perseus-Pisces Filament, one of the largest-known structures in the Universe, stretching from Abell 426 in Perseus down through Andromeda, Pisces, Aries, and Pegasus in our skies. This is one of my favorite observing targets, easy to find and rewarding to study. With my resources at a minimum, it was time to take notes on this string of cosmic fluff (despite the somewhat-declining seeing and transparency).

10:13
NGCs 383, 382, 386, 385, 384, 380, 379, 374  (Psc): I’m finally taking notes on this group, which is my favorite galaxy chain. Starting with NGC 383, which is the brightest in the chain and is the largest of the lot; it’s 1.25’ round, with a gradual, brighter core and a pretty well defined halo; here in the 14mm I think I see a faint substellar nucleus. S slightly P 383 by 0.5’ is another smaller galaxy [NGC 382]; it’s also round, but much more diffuse and has either a tiny brighter core or a substellar nucleus to it; it’s about 0.25’ round and is pretty poorly defined. Continuing S slightly P for 1.5’ is a 12th-magnitude star. 3.3’ S somewhat F 383 is a difficult small (0.3’) spot [NGC 386] with a faint stellar nucleus but not much of a core; it’s very tough. [I missed NGC 387 here.] From 383 S by 5.5’ is the more N [NGC 385] of a pair of galaxies: the larger of the pair, it’s 0.75’ round, with a small bright core; it’s much more diffuse than 383. S slightly P by 1.67’ is another [NGC 384] that’s 0.5’ diameter; [so many of these are vaguely roundish!] this one is diffuse and poorly defined but has a gradually-bright core. From 383 N somewhat F by 5’ is a 12th-mag star; also from 383 4.5’ N somewhat P is the more S [NGC 380] of another galaxy pair; this is the second-brightest in the group and is smaller than the one N of it at 0.67’ diameter, but it has a diffuse halo, a very concentrated bright core and a stellar nucleus.  2.25’ N very slightly P that one is the second of that pair [NGC 379], which is elongated N-S, 0.75’ x 0.5’, and has a very gradual core to it but no apparent nucleus. It’s well defined; the one to the S of it is much less so.  3.5’ N slightly F [379] by is an 11.5-magnitude star; N very slightly P that galaxy—3’ due P the 11.5-magnitude star —is a 12.5-magnitude star. From [379] N slightly P by 17’ is NGC 374, which is much more diffuse and less well defined than the others, elongated NsP-SsF, 0.75’ x 0.3’; it’s bracketed to the SP and NF by a pair of 14.5-magnitude stars, and has a very weak core but fleeting stellar nucleus. With the 7mm, these are great! I love this group! The S-most galaxy [384] in group has a really bright nucleus. [385] doesn’t seem to. 383 is a juggernaut compared to the others, especially the little one SP and the one SF [386] that is mostly nucleus at this magnification, with a very poorly defined halo. [380] has much better concentration and a very bright nucleus compared to the others. 374 may have a substellar nucleus, but standing up on the ladder is killing my legs and I can’t be sure; I think it does. 

(The NGC 383 chain in Pisces; NGC 374 is out of the top of the frame. Image courtesy Sloan Digital Sky Survey.)

I wasn’t overly satisfied with my notes, and will likely redo them on a better occasion; I missed a few of the galaxies, and my discomfort on the ladder—that step-height issue I’d struggled with before—led to rushing through my descriptions.

Meanwhile, Loren was observing NGC 7027 in Cygnus, which I had taken notes on what seemed like forever ago.

Robert left; he had to get his kids to school in the morning. I would have to follow soon, as I had work the next day; I had to remind myself that this was mid-week, and I hadn’t done weeknight observing since I started at the factory in April of ’21.

Feeling a bit in the zone despite the pain in my feet (I’ll shut up about it eventually!), I went through a few pages in the Jumbo Pocket Sky Atlas, looking for recognizable targets. I found one in Cetus, and a fine target (or trio of targets) it was.

10:38
NGCs 273, 274, 275 (Cet): Doing this one because I had the means to find it with my phone basically dead; this is the 273/274/275 trio in Cetus (inversus); the most obvious is NGC 274, of course, which is 0.67’ in diameter and poorly defined but has a much brighter [than the halo] core that’s fairly abrupt and a substellar nucleus; in contact with it to the SF, about 0.75’ center to center, is NGC 275, which is 0.75’ diameter, very diffuse, very weakly concentrated and fairly even in illumination. 8’ N somewhat F 274 is a 10.5-magnitude star; 14’ SF 274 is an 8.5-magnitude star. N slightly P 274 by 11’ is NGC 273, which is 0.75’ x 0.3’, elongated roughly P-F, and is probably not as well defined as it seems it should be; I suspect the low altitude isn’t helping. It does have a small bright core but no visible nucleus; it also has a 14.5-magnitude star NP it by 0.75’ that’s quite distracting; F the galaxy by 2.5’ is a 13th-magnitude star. With the 7mm, I’m not expecting much, but that’s when surprises happen. With the 7mm, 274 definitely has a substellar nucleus; 275 still has no significant concentration. In averted vision, I may be getting a stellar nucleus to 273, but it’s really hard to tell; if we were even 10˚ farther S it would be a huge help.

It normally takes between thirty and forty minutes to break down the Obsession and load it (and all its attendant gear) into the cramped quarters of the Flex; I waited a while this time for the others to wrap up their own observations for the night, so as not to blind them with the Flex’s automatic head- and tail-lights. I had the whole scope and gear broken down, waiting to load the moment the last observer started packing up.

I still felt pretty alert, no small feat considering that my day had begun at 5 AM. It would take every remaining bit of energy to negotiate the tricky, hourlong drive home. Yet even as I pulled into my driveway, I was planning ahead for the next session out, creating contingencies for unworking phones and reshaping my observing list for a night of lesser conditions.

IV. I somehow found the energy for two nights in a row, interspersed among three full days’ work. This time we stayed closer to home, at Eureka Ridge, which was still open but also still hazy with smoke.

It was just Loren and I this time; given the forecast, it wasn’t surprising that others chose not to make the trip. I arrived at the small clearing on the logging road that wends along the ridgetop and waited for Loren to get there, so as not to start setting up the Obsession in a spot that might interfere with his own scope.

Loren pulled up, and we debated the merits of the evening’s sky. Was it worth setting up? The smoke was clearly an issue, but would it impair our observing to a serious degree? I started unloading the Obsession; the worst that could happen would be that I had to tear it back down and reload it.

As the sky darkened, Loren was convinced. Conditions might not be great, but they would allow for observing some of the brighter targets we were after. With every clear night until April an opportunity not to be squandered, the perfect was (as always) the enemy of the good.

One of the first things I checked was the various apps I used; all of them worked. As I suspected, the previous night’s phone failure was due to the lack of a signal. It still was supremely annoying, and I had prepared my laminated Sky Atlas 2000.0 with post-it flags so that I wouldn’t be without either charts or an agenda for the evening.

I’d arranged my observing agenda several different ways and printed it out, sorted by constellation, object type, and degree of difficulty. This would allow me to work specific areas of the sky, concentrate on a given observing program (flat galaxies, galaxy clusters, etc.), or choose targets based on the sky conditions. Tonight would be one for the “easier” stuff; the “Shakhbazian-esque” galaxy chain in Aquarius, noted by Ivan Maly on the Deep Sky Forum, was all but invisible as I zeroed in on its location, so there was no question of seeking out distant galaxy groups. In that light, I started with a few of the Herschel remainders.

10/19/22
EUREKA RIDGE
SUNSET: 6:22 PM
MOON: 24 days (set at 4:19 PM; 28% illuminated)
SEEING: 6
TRANSPARENCY: 5, 6
SQM: 21.11
NELM: not checked
WEATHER CONDITIONS: temps to mid-50s; some dew; air still (breezy beyond ridge); cool but not cold
OTHERS PRESENT: LR
All observations: 20″ f/5 Obsession Dob, 14mm ES 82˚ eyepiece (181x, 0.45˚ TFOV) or 7mm TeleVue Nagler (363x, 0.21˚ TFOV) unless otherwise noted

9:44
NGC 7393 (Aqr): Starting off here on a smoky evening at Eureka Ridge; having struck out on that PGC galaxy chain of Ivan Maly’s and a couple other things, we’re looking at NGC 7393 in Aquarius. The galaxy is elongated P-F, and subtends 1.25’ x 0.67’; it seems to be pretty well defined, but it also seems to be brighter on the P side; it’s definitely irregularly illuminated in the halo, and also has considerable internal brightening or concentration to it. It’s really hard to make heads or tails out of it at this magnification—something about the galaxy is visually “off.” 3.5’ N somewhat P the galaxy is a 13th-magnitude star that has a 14.5-magnitude star P it by 0.75’, and then N somewhat F the galaxy by 4.5’ is the more S of a pair of 14.5-magnitude stars that are roughly N-S to each other and separated by 0.5’; the more S of those is slightly brighter. The brightest star in the field is S somewhat F the galaxy by 7.5’ and is 10.5 magnitude, and it has an 11.5-magnitude star 1.5’ S somewhat F it. 7’ S somewhat P the galaxy is a 12.5-magnitude star that has an 11.5-magnitude star S very slightly P it by 2’. In the 7mm: higher magnifications tonight are just not working—I think that’s too much power, as the seeing is just not that good. The galaxy’s core is definitely shunted toward the P side; it’s distinctly brighter on that side. There also looks to be a threshold star embedded in the F edge, where it tapers. It’s very hard to get a good focus.

Surprisingly, given that it was October, the mosquitoes were particularly annoying on the night; I could hear them buzzing on my audio notes.

10:03
NGC 7469; IC 5283 (Peg): The very interesting NGC 7469 in Pegasus is situated down by the diamond of stars I use to find NGC 7479. There is a blazing nucleus to this little galaxy, which also has a gradual and very slightly brighter core. The galaxy is elongated P slightly N-F slightly S; it’s 0.75’ x 0.3’. Given how bright the nucleus is, at first glance you could mistake the galaxy for a star with some thin faint halo around it from poor transparency. 0.5’ F the galaxy is a 15th-magnitude star; SF the galaxy by 5.5’ is an 8.5-magnitude star, and N somewhat F the galaxy by 6.5’ is an 8th-magnitude star. N somewhat P the galaxy by 3.5’ is an 11th-magnitude star. Between the two 8th/8.5-magnitude stars is a rough parallelogram/trapezoid (it’s much narrower on the N end) of 12th/13th-magnitude stars; I’m not going to detail all of them. 13’ due S of the galaxy is a 9th-magnitude star, which is the N-most vertex in a little isosceles triangle that points toward the F; the 9th-magnitude star has 1’ S of it an 11th-mag star; there’s a 12th-magnitude star F slightly S of the 9th-magnitude star by 1.5’. Going back to 7469: 1.3’ N slightly F the galaxy is a more ghostly, diffuse little galaxy [IC 5283] that’s smaller and thinner than 7469; it comes and goes with variations in the transparency. It looks to be an edge-on, and the major axis has a little central brightening along it; it’s elongated 0.67’ x 0.2’ P slightly N-F slightly S. Let’s throw the 7mm in here and see what we get. [Happiness is a warm eyepiece.] I can’t get over how bright the nucleus is in NGC 7469; that 15th-magnitude star F it is really jumping out now, and this is not helping [IC 5283], though—it disappears, for the most part, but jumps out a bit on occasion with variations in the conditions. [5283] may have a threshold star in or around it somewhere; I’m getting that “sparkle vision” effect, but it’s hard to pick it up. There may be a threshold star on the N edge of it.

The seeing and transparency were both proving to be highly variable; several times, I noted that IC 5283 had almost disappeared in the field, and that the stars had bloomed into indistinct disks. I carried on.

Loren was busy stalking my planetary-nebula nemesis, Sharpless 1-89 in Cygnus. He eventually threw his hands up on that one and moved on to IC 5117.

10:34
NGCs 7679, 7682; UGC 12628 (Psc): NGC 7679 sits within the Circlet of Pisces, and is another small galaxy with a very bright nucleus. It’s quite round, 0.67’ across, with only a gradual and slightly brighter core but that very strong stellar nucleus. The halo is pretty well defined. The galaxy is bracketed to the P slightly N and N very slightly F by a couple of fainter stars; the star to the P very slightly N is about 2.3’ from the galaxy and is 12th magnitude; the one to the N very slightly F is about 2’ from the galaxy and about 13.5 magnitude. P somewhat N of the galaxy by 5.25’ is a 9.5-magnitude star that has due P it by 2.25’ a 13.5 magnitude star. F somewhat N of 7679 by 4.5’ is another galaxy [NGC 7682] which is more diffuse and less concentrated; it does have a stellar nucleus and a well-defined halo to it. It’s 0.5’ x 0.3’, elongated N very slightly P-S very slightly F. [suddenly] There’s another one [UGC 12628] in the field down there. From 7679 9’ SF is a roughly N-S line of five stars, most of which are of 13.5 magnitude. That line is 1.75’ long; there are four in the N half of the line (three in a row and one slightly P), and then a gap, and then the final star. Just F that line by 3.5’ is an extremely difficult, diffuse glow of low surface brightness, that has little central concentration at all; it’s round, 0.75’ diameter, and very very ghostly; I picked it up with averted vision earlier and can just hold it in direct; averted definitely helps with this one. Even at 7mm, 7679 could be a fuzzy star, as bright as its nucleus is. With the 7mm, the second galaxy looks to have some very tenuous brightening along its major axis; I’m no longer sure it has a nucleus in there or not. [UGC 12628] shows a little better too. It sometimes looks like… I don’t know if that’s a nucleus or a threshold star; I’m just getting sparkle vision there near that galaxy, probably enhanced by the fact that it’s so difficult to hold the galaxy steady.

Adventures in Automatic Transcription, Part Something or Other: the Voice Recorder app transcribed “tenuous” as “tiny ass.” While an apt description of some of the Shakhbazian groups’ components or some of the planetary nebulae I’d observed, accuracy was needed here.

With time growing short again, and work looming in the morning, I had only time for one or two more objects. The one I had in mind was, like the centerpiece of the previous night, a whole bunch of targets rolled into one.

11:14
NGCs 202, 203 [211], 193, 204, 199, 194, 200, 198, 182 (Psc): This is gonna be a long one, because this an excellent, extensive galaxy chain in Pisces that starts at the N with NGC 202 and also stretches all the way down to NGC 198 and lower. The galaxy chain starts 7’ S slightly P a 7.5 magnitude star with NGC 202, [I’m gonna skip a lot of the field stars here unless they’re necessary] which is about 0.75’ x 0.3’, elongated 170˚ PA (N very slightly P-S very slightly F); it has a distracting 13.5-magnitude star 0.75’ F it. The galaxy is fairly well defined and has an elongated, very slightly brighter core; I do think every now and then there’s a nucleus visible. 5.5’ S of the galaxy is a less-diffuse, better-defined, elongated P slightly S -F slightly N galaxy [NGC 203/211] which is 0.67’ x 0.3’; it has a non-stellar nucleus, but a very weak core. 8’ S slightly P that galaxy is a 9th-magnitude star that has an 11th-magnitude star 3.67’ S slightly P, and the 9th-magnitude star has 2.5’ P very slightly N of it a larger galaxy [NGC 193] which is 0.67’ round and well defined, with a small brightish core and a faint stellar nucleus; it also has a 13th-magnitude star 0.5’ S slightly P it, just outside the halo. Back to the 9th-magnitude star: F very slightly S of it by 4.25’ is another galaxy [NGC 204] which is elongated very slightly N-S, 0.67’ x 0.5’, with a poorly-defined and diffuse halo, a small, gradual, slightly-brighter core, and a substellar nucleus; it also sometimes seems like there’s a threshold star embedded in it that gives it a double “nucleus.” From the 9th-magnitude star 12’ S very slightly P is a 7.5-magnitude star; from that star F slightly N by 5’ is another diffuse galaxy [NGC 199] which is poorly defined; it’s 0.67’ diameter, with a small, very abrupt core and a faint substellar nucleus. 6’ S somewhat F the 7.5-magnitude star is an even larger galaxy [NGC 194] that’s 0.75’ diameter, with a moderately well-defined halo and a slightly-brighter core, perhaps a trace of a stellar nucleus; that galaxy has 10’ S somewhat F it an even larger galaxy [NGC 200] that’s very diffuse, with very weak central concentration; at first I thought it was round, but now I think it’s NP-SF oriented, so 1.0’ x 0.75’, also with weak central concentration; this is a fairly bright galaxy, with a faint stellar nucleus; averted vision really helps draw out the nucleus. It also has SP it a pair of 12.5-magnitude stars separated by 1’, and those are N very slightly P-S very slightly F to each other, and along that line, about 3.5’ from the S of those two stars, is another large galaxy [NGC 198], which is about 6’ S very slightly P the previous galaxy and is even more diffuse and rounder; it’s 1.25’ round, with a large, weak core but no nucleus and a poorly-defined halo. That galaxy has a 9.5-magnitude star 5.5’ S slightly F it and also has 5.5’ P somewhat S of it an 11.5-magnitude star; from that star 16’ P somewhat S is a 7.5-magnitude star, and that star has 3.75’ F somewhat S of it another galaxy [NGC 182] that’s 1.0’, roundish, and better concentrated than most of the previous ones despite being poorly defined; it has a very weak core but a substellar nucleus.

Better conditions might have yielded a few more galaxies along the chain; there were surely a number of UGC or PGC galaxies in those fields. 

But no matter. It had been as productive a run as we could make it, all told; when I was a younger caveman looking skyward, I would’ve never dreamed I’d be regularly observing under skies as good as these, even in their compromised state.

I packed up with no regrets. Loren was done first, and he headed out after making sure I didn’t mind. 

After finishing the stowing of my observing chair (always the last item in with the Obsession load-in) and taking the covers off of the Flex’s headlights, I swept the clearing with a headlamp beam. Leave nothing behind except starlight.

I drove out, hopeful that we’d get another opportunity at the next Moon-dark phase, but satisfied with what I had done during this one. I’d managed to leave the 7mm Nagler in my coat pocket, along with my phone. Autumn may indeed carry more gold in its pocket than the other seasons, but the real gold in my pocket wasn’t an expensive eyepiece; it was the audio journals of my voyage through the backwaters of the autumn night.  




Ghosts and Shadows

Shakhbazian 317; image centered on PGC 8329. Courtesy/copyright Sloan Digital Sky Survey.

Late September and October bring with them a sense of urgency for the astronomy-minded in the Willamette Valley—the frequent weeks-long stretches of clear nights end at this point on the calendar, replaced by months of uncertainty: will this weekend be the first/last opportunity of the rainy season? Every break in the clouds, every blue box on the Clear Sky Chart raised a glimmer of hope, one often dashed by the reality of living in the Pacific Northwest. They call them “sucker holes” for a reason.

I. So when the Clear Sky Chart went blue for several nights during the September/October Moon-dark phase, the effect was roughly akin to a house full of dogs seeing their master gathering up their leashes for a walk: a virtual stampede out of town to the site of best forecast. In this case, Linslaw Point, and a stampede missing some of the usual suspects; Dan B was ill, and Loren was in North Dakota for the week. But Jerry, Mark, Robert A, and Alan were on-board, and we made an immediate beeline caravan for the Coastal Range once sunset hit T minus 60.

For the first time since April, I brought out the heavy artillery—EAS’ 20-inch Obsession. I was scheduled to go back to work in October, and I needed to be physically ready for it. What better way to test this than by negotiating my way around the massive scope? Loading it into the Flex hadn’t been a huge problem for my reconstructed foot or anything else; perhaps the rigors of using it in the field (specifically, on the crag) would be less demanding than they might at first seem.

To this end, I had an agenda tailor-made for the big scope: flat galaxies, Hickson groups, some Shakhbazian groups, a couple of the remaining Herschel objects, some objects I’d observed previously without taking notes on (eg. PGC 70994, the difficult ring galaxy in Pisces) and a few of the Deep Sky Forum’s past Object of the Week entries. I’d also managed to scare up a couple of extremely-obscure galaxies in Sagitta for the sake of my idiotic quest to observe a galaxy in every constellation, Sagitta being one of only two constellations with no galaxies brighter than 15th magnitude (Scutum being the other, and likely the most difficult of all).

I managed to get the Obsession assembled with only minor difficulty and a few lesser swear words. Collimation was a different story; despite my having put the scope together at home that morning, it was still far out of optical alignment. Jerry had done some work on the upper tube assembly (UTA) to clean up the previous issues with collimation, and had rebuilt the dew-heater system so that it actually worked. This had necessitated quite a lengthy pre-observing collimation session at home, to make sure I didn’t have to spend an hour in the field getting the critical alignment correct. But the secondary-mirror holder was still a nightmare to work with—a pox on three-point secondary mounts!—and I’m sure even George Carlin would’ve suggested that I dial back on the profane phraseology I used while getting the blinkered secondary to stay where it needed to stay.

Ultimately, the wretched secondary holder got centered up and stayed there. I went to the back of the telescope and dialed in the primary mirror, then checked the secondary again. Success! After a few minutes’ tweaking of the Telrad alignment, the whole scope was ready to go. Now, all that remained was for the sunset glow to fade to black (or at least dark grey, given the natural airglow and the light dome from Eugene/Springfied, mostly blocked by the sandstone crag).

09/23-09/24/22
LINSLAW POINT
SUNSET: 7:08 PM
MOON: 28 days (set at 6:40 PM; 3% illuminated)
SEEING: 7
TRANSPARENCY: 7
SQM: 21.4
NELM: not checked
WEATHER CONDITIONS: temps to 55F; no dew; slight breeze
OTHERS PRESENT: JO, DR, MW, RA, AG
All observations: 20″ f/5 Obsession Dob, 14mm ES 82˚ eyepiece (181x, 0.45˚ TFOV) or 7mm TeleVue Nagler (363x, 0.21˚ TFOV) unless otherwise noted

Unwilling to waste a moment, I went straight for my first Sagitta galaxy, UGC 11385, on the constellation’s far western end. But though I had the location correct, I was unable to winnow the galaxy out from the star field. I didn’t look that tough on the POSS plate, and I had the right field, but… nothing. I stared into the field for several minutes. Still nothing.

Not wanting to give up, I scooted the giant scope over to the eastern end of Sagitta for my second target. This one took little time to extract from the field.

9:15
PGC 64467 (CGCG 447-1; Sge): The first galaxy on my first night back with the 20-inch, and we’re going after the hard stuff already: this is PGC 64467 in Sagitta, and it is exactly what one would expect from a 15.44-magnitude galaxy. This is part of my quixotic quest to view a galaxy in every constellation; I only had two candidates in Sagitta and this one, I thought, was going to be the more difficult of them, but the UGC just was not willing to be seen (part of this is because Sagitta is in an awkward part of the sky for the ladder and, therefore, my feet). But this little galaxy is sandwiched between two 12.5-magnitude stars that are about 1.3’ apart, N and S of it. The galaxy is extremely faint, and elongated N-S; it cannot be more than 0.3’ x 0.2’. It’s very diffuse and weakly defined, and only in averted vision here in the 14mm does it show any sort of central brightening; I’ve already used the 7mm Nagler on it, and it didn’t really enhance the view at all. The two 12.5-magnitude stars bracketing the galaxy form the N end of the P-most of a pair of arcs, like a pair of inward-bowing parentheses. 2’ S somewhat P the S of the two 12.5-magnitude stars is an 11th-magnitude star, and then 2’ SP that star is a 10.5-magnitude star; these finish off the P of the two arcs. The other arc is almost as much a “V”-shape, with the 11.5-magnitude vertex of the “V” 2’ S slightly F the galaxy, and the S end of that F arc or “V”-shape is a little scalene triangle. NF the galaxy by 5’ is the brightest star in the immediate field, which is 10.5 magnitude; N slightly F the galaxy by 2.75’ is a 10.5-magnitude star that has P slightly S of it by 0.5’ an 11.5-magnitude star. With the 7mm back in, there’s a very faint star N very very slightly F the galaxy, about half the distance from the galaxy to the more N of the two 12.5-magnitude stars. That galaxy is just there in direct vision, but very ghostly and intangible. Nonetheless, that is a galaxy in Sagitta, where only two are within range of a standard amateur telescope.

In the background, Mark and Robert were animatedly discussing Elon Musk, Starlink, and the potential for amateur space travel; Mark was still setting up his astrophotography rig. In the foreground, however, I was experiencing the drawbacks of my astronomy ladder. The wide steps—the reason I’d bought it—were certainly a huge boon for my tormented feet; they were spaced so far apart, however, that the eyepiece of the Obsession always seemed to be either a half-step too low or a half-step too high for comfortable viewing. I needed to build a tray for the top of the ladder, too, like I had done with the green ladder for the EAS 18-inch scope, as the “shelf” atop the ladder was too small for more than an eyepiece or two, and then only if they were lying down. Worse, the rail the shelf attached to was rickety and a bit frightening to lean against. I’m sure it was probably safe, but it felt too dainty to lean my full weight against. And the four feet on the ladder made it harder to position than Jerry’s tripod ladder. Still, those 10″-wide steps made being on the ladder bearable, compared to every standard ladder I’d ever used.

I’ve observed Hickson 88 in Aquarius a number of times; it’s not hard to locate, and the three NGC-designated galaxies are quite easy, even in the 12.5-inch scope. The fourth is quite difficult, but there it was, in the eyepiece of the 20-inch Obsession. The seeing and transparency that low in the sky were fairly murky, but I’m not going to let that stop me from a target I really want to observe.

9:51
NGCs 6978, 6977, 6975; PGC 65612 (Hickson 88; Aqr): I’ve taken notes on Hickson 88 before, but certainly not with a 20-inch scope. The three NGC galaxies are really pretty obvious tonight, while the PGC is coming and going as the transparency wavers. The NGCs are all S somewhat P-N somewhat F to each other, with the brightest one, NGC 6978, on the N somewhat F end. It’s elongated P slightly N-F slightly S, about 1.0’ x 0.3’, and moderately-well defined, with a stellar nucleus and a somewhat brighter core; the core is a little bit on the gradual side. 1.3’ S somewhat P NGC 6978 is a 14.5-magnitude star, and then 1.25’ S somewhat P that star is NGC 6977, which is rounder, 0.75’ diameter, with a small, gradually arrived-at, somewhat-brighter core but no visible nucleus; the halo is moderately-well defined. 1.75’ S somewhat P NGC 6977 is NGC 6975, which is the most diffuse of the three; it’s about 0.67’ diameter, with a very faint, poorly-defined halo and a slightly-brighter core. 2.5’ P NGC 6975 is a 12th-magnitude star, and then from that star S slightly P by 1.5’ is PGC 65612, HCG 88D, which has a 12.5-magnitude star S of it by 1.3’. F somewhat S of NGC 6975 by 3.5’ is the dimmer of a pair, which is 11.5 magnitude and has a 10.5-magnitude star 0.75’ F very slightly S of it. With the 7mm PGC 65612 pops out a little bit more; it’s 0.5’ long, elongated P-F, very very thin, very evenly illuminated as well, but very ghostly and only intermittently visible in direct vision. At this magnification, the nucleus in NGC 6978 really shows well.  The halo-core distinction in NGC 6977 is very gradual, and the central concentration in NGC 6975 is more apparent than I saw it earlier. 

I could’ve taken longer notes, but the group was in a slightly-awkward spot for me on the ladder—just as PGC 64467 had been—and my legs were starting to cramp up. This would be a recurrent theme throughout this dark run.

In the spirit of giving stupid nicknames to deep-sky objects—a specialty of some astronomy writers—I’m going to call Hickson 88 the Three Stooges Galaxies, with the PGC galaxy as Shemp; maybe the nickname will stick. (It’s still a better nickname than “The Deer Lick Group.”)

Not far from Hickson 88 is one of my personal bêtes noire, MCG-1-53-12, a.k.a. PGC 65506. This flat galaxy is one of the few visible in the early-fall regions of the sky; I’d already made several attempts at observing it, with varying degrees of failure. Only on one or two occasions had I seen enough of the galaxy to confirm the sighting, and none of them was convincing enough to take notes one it. Now, though, I was able to hold the galaxy steadily enough to describe it.

10:11
MCG-1-53-12 (PGC 65506; Aqr): Finally—the long-sought PGC 65506 in Aquarius. I’ve glimpsed this flat galaxy before but was never really sure that I could say that I saw it, but I’ve finally got a solid-enough sighting to confirm it. The galaxy is between the right-angle vertex of a small triangle to the P and NP and a pair to the F, of which the S of the pair is the brighter. It’s 1.3’ x 0.125’, and really takes averted vision to hold steadily, so only just a 1 on the averted-vision scale but barely holding. It’s elongated perfectly 180˚ in PA (or 0˚). The right-angle vertex of that little triangle is 1.25’ P very slightly N of the galaxy and is 13.5 magnitude, and has N slightly P it by 1.25’ a 14.5-magnitude star; from the right-angle vertex P slightly S by 1.75’ is a 13th-magnitude star that finishes the triangle. From the galaxy F very slightly N by 2’ is the S of that pair, which is 12.5 magnitude and has a 13.5-magnitude star 0.5’ N very slightly F. The view in the 7mm is still ridiculously faint. The galaxy is actually not bad here at 362x; although the field is significantly darker, there’s just enough added contrast to pop the galaxy a bit. It’s very even in illumination, with no central brightening to it. At this magnification, the N star in that pair F the galaxy is actually a double—it has a 15.5-magnitude star P it by 10”—and that right triangle is actually more like a diamond due to an added star (we’re going to forget that for now and just keep calling it a right triangle because it’s more fun to talk about). 

I had intended to pass on that particular galaxy tonight, and am pleased that I didn’t.

Jerry was showing Dan R NGC 206, the star cloud in M31; he’d asked me for the NGC number. My caveman brain was full of NGC numbers, an annoying Rain Man-esque tic that was a source of amusement for my EAS colleagues. I’m not sure how or why it came to be that way.

On the opposite end of Aquarius, just south of the Water Jar asterism, is one of the easier of the Shakhbazian Compact Groups. The Shakhbazians (colloquially) are a level beyond the Hickson Compact Groups in observing difficulty: much more distant, much fainter, much smaller on average than the Hicksons, and some of the most-challenging galaxy groups for telescopes of any aperture. (It should be noted that several of the Hicksons are also in the Shakhbazian catalogue.) My quarry here was Shakhbazian 331, a roughly north-south string of six galaxies no more than 1′ long. I often refer to the Shakhbazians when in the field, usually in a comedic manner (on a smoke-laden evening: “looks like good skies for Shakhbazian hunting,” etc.), but I was bound and determined to take notes on several of these obscure groups during this dark cycle. Lo and behold, Shk 331 was immediately apparent in the eyepiece. Both Dan R and Jerry took skeptical looks and were impressed to see this tiny glow, the feeble combined light of these ephemeral, ancient (z = 0.0534, 750 million light-year distant) galaxies.

10:46
PGCs 96867, 96865 (Shakhbazian 331; Aqr): The first of several Shakhbazian Compact Groups on my agenda, this is Shakhbazian 331 in Aquarius. I know there are at least four galaxies here, but although they’re definitely there in the eyepiece, they’re almost impossible to separate at this magnification. These form a difficult (but not excruciatingly so!) collective glow that’s 0.75’ in diameter; it’s fairly obvious when you first look at the field. 4.25’ S of the galaxies is a 12.5-magnitude star that serves as something to latch onto in the field, and 12’ F very slightly N of the group is a 7th-magnitude star that’s a real annoyance in the eyepiece. 2.75’ N of the group is a 14.5-magnitude star, and then 7’ N of the galaxies is a 13th-magnitude star. Other than the galaxies, there’s not a lot going on in this field; there’re a couple other stars in there, but nothing particularly noteworthy aside from the galaxies. With the 7mm, there are at least two distinct objects here: a larger one N of the other by 0.25’, the larger one about twice the size of the smaller one at 0.25’ diameter. The sky’s just not supporting this magnification, making the view more difficult overall.

My notes were less-extensive than I would have liked, but I was operating at close to the margins for Linslaw and the 20-inch scope on the night.

The air felt damp, but was still warm enough that I wasn’t yet using my winter coat. (I often used it simply for the pockets; with my phone in the upper left and my glasses in the upper right, I could take notes hands-free, and the other pockets allowed for filters and other eyepieces, in addition to the 50-year-old North Face mittens I’d inherited from my dad.) I commented, during my notes on Shk 331, that dew seemed imminent, despite not being indicated on the Clear Sky Chart forecast.

I stopped by Neptune and Triton while in Aquarius, and then wandered through my observing list for a bit. A number of objects (among them the flat galaxy UGC 12281 in Pegasus, the Pisces ring galaxy PGC 70994, and Hickson 91 in Piscis Austrinus) weren’t showing well in the nearly-damp air, especially those in the low south. Others seemed fine–at least, good enough for a set of audio notes. Chief among these was a trio of flat galaxies, the better for making further headway in the AL Flat Galaxy program.

(It was not until writing this entry that I discovered that I had been spelling Piscis Austrinus wrong for decades; it’s Piscis, not Pisces.)

12:30
UGC 12423; NGC 7518 (Psc): Here in Pisces with UGC 12423, and there’s a distracting brighter galaxy due S of it; that galaxy is really interesting because it has actual detail to it beyond being just a faint, thin flat galaxy. UGC 12423 actually does have some distinctive central concentration and is quite well defined; it’s elongated in position angle 135˚ and spans 1.5’ x 0.1’. Additional distractions from the galaxy include a couple of faint stars to the SF; there’s a 14.5-magnitude star 2.5’ SF the galaxy and an 11th-magnitude star 2.25’ P very very slightly S; P the galaxy by 1.67’ is a 14.5-magnitude star, and just S of the galaxy by 0.75’ is a 15th-magnitude star. F very slightly N by 1.75’ is the P-most vertex and brightest vertex in a small (almost-) right triangle; that star is 13th magnitude and has a 14th-magnitude star F somewhat N of it by 1’; that star is the right-angle vertex, and it and the third vertex, N very slightly P it by 0.67’, are both 14.5 magnitude. UGC 12423 is fairly obvious, despite the distraction of the larger galaxy [NGC 7518] to the S, 6.5’ S of UGC 12423; this galaxy is elongated P slightly N-F slightly S, 0.1’ x 0.75’ and is pretty poorly defined, although it definitely has a slightly brighter core and a substellar nucleus that shows much better in averted vision. The larger, brighter galaxy really blossoms at 7mm: the core is much more distinct, the nucleus very much apparent; UGC 12423 is also much easier, which is not always the case with flat galaxies. It seems to be a little more evenly illuminated with this magnification than it was at 181x, and much better defined.

I somehow missed UGC 12426, a much fainter edge-on galaxy 9.5′ N slightly F UGC 12423. Missing obvious field galaxies—this too would be a theme of this dark run. Perhaps this impatience was due to the blustery, cool wind that would finally drive me into my winter coat an hour later.

Somehow, I managed to drop my phone off the ladder while recording. Had it been damaged, my evening would, for all intents and purposes, have been over.

The famous Cartwheel Galaxy, which had just been imaged by the Webb Space Telescope, had also been the subject of a recent thread on Cloudy Nights. I had suggested attempting it with Bob the (12.5-inch) Dob, a suggestion which was met with some skepticism from the thread participants (largely because of my northern latitude than because of aperture or skill). Having brought out the Obsession, I thought I would see how the galaxy—perhaps the most-famous ring galaxy of all—might appear in the larger aperture first. With the Cartwheel culminating soon, I had actually suggested it as a target for Jerry’s 20-inch TriDob, as he was casting about for interesting targets.

He found the Cartwheel and its two attendant PGC companions with his usual quickness, but the view wasn’t promising. The two smaller galaxies were quite obvious, but the Cartwheel itself was an extremely-tentative, tenuous thing, its core tiny and very faint and its halo damn-near invisible in the horizon muck. We compared our impressions to verify that we were seeing it, and we certainly were—there was just so little to see that wasn’t drowned out in the poor visual signal-to-noise ratio of the low southern horizon. I passed on the Cartwheel when my culmination alarm sounded. Perhaps another night….

So it was back to flat galaxies, and several fine consolation prizes.

1:15
PGC 2526 (Cet): PGC 2526 is really surprisingly obvious here, almost due P Deneb Kaitos in Cetus. The galaxy has a 14th-magnitude star superimposed on it toward the F; just off the F tip is a 15th-magnitude star, but let’s talk about the galaxy first. It’s hard to tell because of the superimposed star, but it looks like just P that superimposed star is a little bit of central brightening. The galaxy is oriented in 80˚ PA, and is about 1.75’ x 0.25’; the halo is well defined Due N of it by 2.67’ is a 13th-magnitude star, and then 3.25’ N very slightly P that star is a 14.5-magnitude star that has a 15.5-magnitude star F it by 0.5’. This is a pretty barren field; its brightest star is 10’ F very slightly S of the galaxy and is 11.5 magnitude. P the galaxy by 13’ is another 11.5-magnitude star (this one might actually be brighter than the other one), and then S somewhat P the galaxy by another 12’ is another 11.5-magnitude star. Hopefully the 7mm Nagler will be able to separate out that star from the galaxy…. In the 7mm, that 15th-magnitude star just on the F edge of the galaxy actually has a little bit of space between it and the galaxy; it’s just a tiny bit S of the F end of the galaxy. The slightly-brighter central region is irregular in brightness. I’m surprised this galaxy got missed by WH, JH, and the other great observers, although it’s right in the “shadow” of a naked-eye star. 

Even better was the next (and the evening’s last) flat galaxy.

1:39
NGC 522; ICs 102, 101 (Psc):
 NGC 522 in Pisces is a really, really fine flat specimen, in a field with at least one other galaxy. It’s oriented in 45˚ PA and spans 2.5’ x 0.3’. The halo is irregularly bright but well defined; it does have a small brighter central core, although I’m not really picking up a nucleus. The galaxy has a threshold star due N of it by 1’; S somewhat F by 3.25’ is a 13.5-magnitude star that is the P-most in a (mostly) P-F line of three that also has one branching off of the center, turning it into a stubby capital ‘T’; F that star by 2.25’ is another of 13.5 magnitude; F that one by 3.5’ is another of the same magnitude, and 3’ S slightly P the one in the middle is a 14th-magnitude star. NF the galaxy by 3.5’ is a 15th-magnitude star; there’s a 15.5-magnitude star F the NF tip of the galaxy by 0.75’, and then from the center of the galaxy SP by 8’ is a smaller galaxy [IC 102] that’s about 0.67’ round and much more difficult; it’s not a great direct-vision target. This second galaxy may actually be elongated a little bit P-F, 0.5’ x 0.3’ (if that); it’s reasonably well defined but very very ghostly, and has a very slightly brighter core to it but no nucleus. 5’ P somewhat N of that galaxy is another [IC 101], which is actually a little bit easier to see and is elongated… it’s about 0.67’ x 0.3’, elongated 130 PA (roughly NP-SF); that one has a brighter core but no visible nucleus, and it’s sandwiched between two stars: S slightly P it by 1’ is a 15th-magnitude star and there’s a 13th-magnitude star N slightly F by 2.5’. NGC 522 should show pretty well in the 7mm…. Wow. At this magnification, 522 is really huge, really striking! The two threshold stars really pop out. This galaxy is distinctly irregularly bright and well defined. Of the two galaxies to the P, [IC 102] is pretty uniformly bright, but [IC 101] has a faintly brighter core. Great field! 

Jerry and Dan had left during my observation of NGC 522; Robert and Alan had left some time before. Mark and I were the only ones remaining on the crag, and Mark had gone back into his truck for a nap while his imaging rig continued its tireless work.

cloudynights.com has perhaps the best English-language astronomy discussion forums on the Internet. I’ve referred to them several times here on this site, and it’s not hard to see why after perusing them; they cover a wealth of topics and have a user base that includes many of the leading luminaries of amateur astronomy. They also provide a wealth of information that isn’t available anywhere else (at least not without a great deal of scouring search engines).

One such tidbit popped up on the deep-sky subform in late November of 2017, courtesy of CN user Redbetter, one of the more-dedicated and experienced deep-sky observers on the site. In the process of tracking down Hickson 21, he had starhopped from the star Tau1 Eridani, and had discovered something unexpected there—a small galaxy, tucked right next to this naked-eye star, which was not charted in any available star atlas (or planetarium app) and which had no known designation. During the discussion, it was noted by the dean of modern observers, Steve Gottlieb, that the galaxy had been observed by the great double-star observer S. W. Burnham in 1890 at Lick Observatory, but had remained lost among Burnham’s papers; it had later been catalogued in the Lyon-Meudon Extragalactic Database (LEDA) which formed the basis for the PGC (its LEDA number, LEDA 2816331, was the same as its PGC number, although the LEDA designation supersedes the PGC here).

After reading the discussion, I resolved to observe this nearly-unknown little galaxy, and I finally had the chance. It was, as the CN thread noted, surprisingly easy, if rather nondescript.

2:36
LEDA 2816331 (Eri): A discovery from a CloudyNights thread, this is Redbetter’s Galaxy, LEDA 2816331, tucked right next to the overpowering 4.5-magnitude star
 Tau1Eridani; the galaxy is 2’ P slightly S of Tauand is surprisingly bright for an object that has gone undiscovered or unobserved for that long. It’s elongated roughly NP-SF, about 0.5.’ x 0.3’, and pretty evenly illuminated (although Tau1 is so bright any details in the galaxy would be difficult to discern anyway). The galaxy has P slightly S of it by 1.75’ a 15th-magnitude star. It’s actually a pretty uninteresting field star-wise; there are a couple of other field stars in there, but nothing really noteworthy. 

Mark had begun to dismantle his rig, its photon capturing having finished for the night. Time for one final target.

With modern atlases being based on computer databases, it’s no small surprise that occasional quirks find their way into their pages. One such quirk is the inclusion of a pair of Zwicky galaxies (II Zw 5 in Cetus and III Zw 66 in Coma Berenices) on the charts of both Sky Atlas 2000.0 and the ubiquitous Pocket Sky Atlas. Despite being far too faint for most amateur optics and for the liking of most observers, these little galaxies still draw attention to themselves by dint of being included in the two most popular atlases ever made, simply because they have erroneous magnitude/surface brightness numbers in the source catalogues for those atlases. In any event, I had already looked for III Zw 66 with Bob the Dob during my epic Virgo Cluster run in 2017. Now, with a larger scope and somewhat better skies, the second of these Zwicky interlopers rounded out one of my best-ever nights of observing.

3:04
II Zw 5 (LEDA 10192; Cet): Something of a weird triumph here: this is the galaxy II Zwicky 5 in the tail of Cetus, and in a way it’s surprisingly easy given its obscurity. It’s roundish, no more than 0.25’, and occasionally visible in direct vision (but mostly in averted). The galaxy marks the N-most vertex in a small isosceles triangle; 1.3’ due S of it is an 11.5-magnitude star, and SP it by 0.75’ is a 13.5-magnitude star. 12’ due N of the galaxy is the HD 16763, the star that I used to find it in Sky Safari because the galaxy wasn’t listed; that star is 7th magnitude, and has an 11.5-magnitude star 0.3’ S slightly P it and 0.5’ F slightly S of it a 13.5-magnitude star. 9’ due S of II Zw 5 is the NP-most star in a line of three that stretches N somewhat P-S somewhat F; that first star is 11.5 magnitude, and S somewhat F from there, each by 1.67’ from each other, are a 13th-magnitude star and an 11th-magnitude star. In the 7mm Nagler the galaxy is fairly featureless, but even more difficult to see because the field’s been darkened too much; there’s not much to say about it, other than that it’s there, although it really helps to get the HD star out of the field. 

It was now well after 3 AM. I’d spent six hours of traipsing up and down a ladder, in the middle of the night, looking at objects that, not that long ago, would have been beyond the capabilities of amateur telescopes.

Mark was packing up; I had no hesitation in doing so myself. It had been an exhilarating return to big-scope observing. My feet (and, frankly, the rest of me) hurt quite a bit, having been forced into positions that 54-year-old joints shouldn’t be required to hold, on a somewhat-wobbly ladder that nonetheless provided a measure of comfort from the usual narrow rungs. It was always nice to have an observing session reach a natural end, one that didn’t leave me thinking of “one last object,” and this one certainly fit that bill. I’d satisfied a need for distant starlight from obscure corners of the universe, and other, future nights offered further opportunities.

II. As good as the night of the 23rd had been, the next night might’ve been even better.

It’s a cardinal sin in astronomy to leave one’s optics in a car all day if it can be avoided; letting the mirrors heat up in a closed vehicle just means that the necessary cooling-down needed for best viewing would take far longer. But I wasn’t about to unpack the whole Flex only to reload the monster Obsession later in the day—certainly not with my foot only at 80% recovery. I could arrive at Linslaw earlier and get the cooling-down started sooner instead. (I really need to get the cooling fan—perhaps more than one!—set up and running on the mirror box.)

My agenda was a continuation of the previous night. I had a tendency to make an observing list that was far too extensive for one night, or even for a single entire dark run, so I had plenty of targets to choose from, sorted numerous ways: by object type (if I felt I was neglecting one, or just for variety), by expected visibility rating (1 being easiest, 5 most difficult; this was useful if the conditions were either spectacular or marginal), or, as I usually had them sorted, by constellation (so that I would be able to work along the meridian, where objects were at their highest in the sky and thus most clear of the obscuring effects of the Earth’s atmosphere).

Despite being largely “past their prime,” I began the evening with some of the last of the summer globulars. M55 was still in good position, and was (as always) stunning; I also stopped by NGC 6366 and M14 in Ophiuchus, and M30/Palomar 12/NGC 6907 in Capricornus. NGC 6908, an edge-on galaxy seemingly “attached” to one of 6907’s arms, was also easily visible. I even turned northward to Cepheus and NGC 6946, the so-called Fireworks Galaxy.

It was just myself, Jerry, and Mark at Linslaw on this particular night—and a fine one it turned out to be, despite the unusually-low SQM numbers. 21.4 didn’t do it justice, but that was the reading from the 11:00 hour.

In setting my agenda, I had added a number of galaxies in the oft-ignored constellation Equuleus, the dimmest constellation in the Northern Hemisphere and the second-smallest of all the 88 constellations. As Equuleus was just about to reach the meridian, this was the best place to start.

09/24-09/25/22
LINSLAW POINT
SUNSET: 7:02 PM
MOON: 29 days (set at 7:00 PM; 1% illuminated)
SEEING: 7
TRANSPARENCY: 7, 6
SQM: 21.4 (too low?)
NELM: not checked
WEATHER CONDITIONS: temps to 53F; no dew; breezy later; chilly; detailed Milky Way
OTHERS PRESENT: JO, MW
All observations: 20″ f/5 Obsession Dob, 14mm ES 82˚ eyepiece (181x, 0.45˚ TFOV) or 7mm TeleVue Nagler (363x, 0.21˚ TFOV) unless otherwise noted

9:46
UGC 11671 (Equ):
 UGC 11671 in Equuleus is a bizarre peculiar galaxy that in photographs resembles a backward pair of parentheses touching in the middle, and it is in contact with a 10.5-magnitude star in a field of several other fairly bright stars. UGC 11671 is a roughly triangular-ish glow that seems to be stronger on the F side, and is about 0.75’ per side. The star that’s touching the galaxies on the N (I suspect this is an interacting pair rather than a completed merger) is 9th magnitude and has N slightly F it by 1.25’ an 11.5-magnitude star, and that star has 1.75’ F slightly S of it another 10.5-magnitude star; the 11.5-magnitude star also has a 13th-magnitude star N very very slightly F it by 1.5’. The star that’s in contact with the galaxies also has S slightly P it by 1.5’ a 15th-magnitude star. The brightest star in the field is S somewhat P the galaxies by 10’.  The S edge of the galaxies is a little more ragged, less evenly-illuminated that the rest. With the 7mm Nagler, there’s a brighter non-stellar spot visible on the S end of the P galaxy, and the more F of the pair has a noticeably-brighter strip that runs parallel to the F edge; that strip of brightness is fairly obvious but not greatly brighter than the rest of the galaxy. An interesting object!

My gripe about the ladder continued; this galaxy was also at just the wrong altitude for comfortable viewing. It didn’t help that the ladder was also just up against the scope, so that even my heartbeat made the eyepiece view vibrate. The seeing, however, was quite excellent, even without the 20-inch mirror being fully cooled; I began to think I’d even be able to use my 4.8mm Nagler on some of these objects if the seeing held.

Writing note: the auto-transcriber on my voice notes transcribed “Equuleus” as “a cool ass.”

I lingered in Equuleus a bit longer, to check out a fine field of small galaxies there. Although I had several other denizen galaxies of the Little Horse on my list, I also had plenty of other objects elsewhere in the sky to get to; rather than “mop up” all of my targets in Equuleus, I picked up a few and then moved along, saving some for the next night/Moondark phase/autumn season.

10:15
UGCs 11700, 11694; PGC 66324 (Equ): This is a field of little galaxies here in Equuleus, but the main attraction here, even though it’s not the brightest in the field, is UGC 11700. It lies 4.5’ due N of the vertex and brightest star of a little checkmark of four stars that runs P slightly N from that vertex for one star and N slightly F for the other two. The galaxy is definitely a beneficiary of averted vision; it’s 0.75’ x 0.5’, elongated N-S, and not well defined; it has a notable core and possibly a very, very faint stellar nucleus, as well as a threshold star on the NP. 1.3’ N very slightly F is the brighter of a pair, which is 14th magnitude and has a 15.5-magnitude star about 10” N slightly P it.  The brightest star in the field is about 16’ F slightly N of the galaxy and is 9th magnitude. The vertex of that little checkmark is 4.5’ S of the galaxy and is 11.5 magnitude; the star P very slightly N of it by 0.67’ is 13th magnitude; N slightly F the vertex by 0.75’ is a 13.5-magnitude star, and 0.75’ N slightly F that star is a 12th-magnitude star. 5’ due N of the galaxy is an 11.5-magnitude star, and then from the galaxy 8’ P very slightly N is an 11.5-magnitude star; N very slightly F that star by 2.3’ is another galaxy [PGC 66324]: this one is a lot fainter and much more diffuse than UGC 11700, and has a 15.5-magnitude star 0.75’ SP it. This galaxy is not well-defined; it may have a little bit of NP-SF elongation, perhaps 0.5’ x 0.3’, but not much in the way of central concentration. From that 11.5-magnitude star S by 9’ is the S-most vertex of an isosceles triangle; that star is 12.5 magnitude and is on the NF edge of another galaxy [UGC 11694] that’s brighter than the other two by a considerable margin, although it’s not particularly well defined; this one is about 0.67’ x 0.5’ and is elongated SP-NF, and has a brighter core region that really is distracted from by that star on the edge, which kind of overwhelms most of it (averted vision really helps bring out that brighter core). From that star on the galaxy’s edge NP by 1.75’ is an 12th-magnitude star, and there’s another 12th-magnitude star N of that star by 2.25’. so we are gonna go up to 7mm and see what we get; this is a nice little field of galaxies up here in Equuleus. OK I hope I can still be heard on the recording. In the 7mm, there’s definitely a stellar nucleus to UGC 11700. That’s a decent little galaxy as tiny galaxies go; it’s better defined at this magnification. [PGC 66324] has a broadly concentrated core and there’s more halo visible at 7mm; it stands out better at the higher magnification. There’s also a nucleus to [UGC 11694]; it too is better defined, although the star is mucking up the view, of course. It has a small, distinct, brighter core and an averted-vision nucleus.

The seeing was already noticeably softer than when I first started. And my legs were already showing the wear and tear of the previous night’s observing session, in addition to the discomfort they might be feeling from this night’s activity. Adrenaline would carry me for a while, but I wasn’t sure I could do (essentially) an all-nighter such as the night before.

I had given the September presentation at the meeting of the Salem astronomy club, NightSky45; it was an encore performance of my previous EAS talk “Forgotten Gems of the Autumn Sky. Among those “forgotten gems” was NGC 663 in Cassiopeia, one of a number of bright open clusters on that constellation’s eastern side. One of my slides was a wide-field photograph of NGC 663 and several nearby clusters, and one of those clusters was the dim, rich blast of star-powder catalogued as IC 166. Seeing that cluster in my slideshow was intriguing; I love the really-rich-but-dim type of open cluster (NGC 7789 in Cassiopeia, on the western side, was the prototype of these agglomerations of sibling stars), and I had added it immediately to my list. With Cassiopeia well above the sandstone crag, now was a good time to observe it.

11:13
IC 166 (Cas): From faint, difficult galaxies to a faint, difficult open cluster; this is the surprisingly dim glow of IC 166 in Cassiopeia, and at 112 X it is mostly background glow. It’s 6’ across, round, and mostly unresolved, even in the 20-inch. It has a string of eleven stars running largely N slightly P-S slightly F through what might roughly be the middle of it; the brightest of these stars is the obvious cluster lucida, which is 13th magnitude and lies just F where the center of the cluster would be. From the lucida 2’ N very slightly P is a 16th-magnitude star that has 5” P somewhat S of it a 15th-magnitude star. SF the lucida by 1.25’ is a 14.5-magnitude star. 0.75’ N somewhat P the lucida is a 16th-magnitude star that actually is not steadily held; from the lucida P by 10” and S slightly F (also by 10”) are two 15.5-magnitude stars. On the P edge of the cluster, 3.25’ from the lucida, is a 12th-magnitude star that I don’t think is a cluster member; there’s also a pair of 11th-magnitude stars, separated by 0.75’; the F-most of those is the right-angle vertex of a little triangle that includes the other 11th-magnitude star; that star is 3.67’ N slightly P the lucida; the other 11th-magnitude star lies P very very slightly S of it by 1’, and it also has a 14th-magnitude star 0.5’ S very slightly F. The brightest star in the field is 7’ P very slightly S of the lucida; that star is 9th magnitude and has a 12th-magnitude star P very slightly N of it by 0.67’. The 7mm Nagler really doesn’t help the glow much contrast-wise, but it does spread out that slate of stars overlaid across it: there’s the lucida, the one P slightly N it, and the one S very very slightly F it by 10”; it’s probably more like 0.25’, and then there is, 0.67’ S slightly F of the lucida, a very very tight pair; those are slightly fainter than the ones that are closer to the lucida; there’s the 15th/16th-magnitude pair on the N edge that I mentioned previously (there are actually about four of them on that edge); the 16th-magnitude star also has F it two extremely-faint stars of 16.5 or 17th magnitude, and those are separated N-S by 0.3’. Even at this magnification that background glow is unresolved, but that’s also about the only thing that identifies this as a cluster as opposed to an asterism of really faint stars. This is obviously an incredibly rich cluster with all that background glow; it’s pretty poorly detached up here in the dense Cassiopeia Milky Way. If all of its “brighter” stars are cluster members, along with the background glow, then it has a quite a range of magnitudes in it. This is a really fascinating object! 

I managed to go back to faint galaxies without leaving Cassiopeia, tracking down an object I had seen several times but hadn’t taken notes on. Maffei 1 was discovered only in 1968, along with Maffei 2; these gigantic elliptical galaxies are difficult optical targets, as they lie within the rich Cassiopeia Milky Way (as seen from Earth), and were discovered via infrared survey plates.

I had seen Maffei 1 several times before, all with the 12.5-inch scope. I was surprised to see it so weakly in the Obsession.

11:51 
Maffei 1; Czernik 11 (Cas): Back to difficult galaxies, and one that I’ve seen much better in somewhat lesser conditions with a smaller scope. I had to use the 24mm Meade 5000 SWA to starhop from the Double Cluster; I’m probably the only person to use the spectacular Double Cluster to stop at something insignificant like this. Maffei 1lies amidst the poor, asterism-like open cluster Czernik 11, which—to be entirely honest—looks slightly like a miniature Draco or cosmic sperm cell. The galaxy is very elusive tonight, but I can definitely tell that there’s something there. I’m surprised it’s this difficult, as I’ve seen it before much more easily than this; it’s a very faint, indistinct, unconcentrated glow, 0.5’ x 0.3’, and elongated P-F. The NP end of Czernik 11 is a little pentagon, and the “tail” of the cluster trails away to the SF, then loops NF, and then SF again; the whole thing is about 4.5’ long. The 12th-magnitude cluster lucida is part of that pentagon, and lies SP Maffei 1 by 0.5’. N slightly F the lucida by 0.5’ is a 14th-magnitude star; NP that star by 0.67’ is a 13.5-magnitude star; from that second one P by 1’ is a 12th-magnitude star that’s just a shade dimmer than the lucida, and then from that star S slightly P by 1’ is a 13.5-magnitude star. 1’ S somewhat F the lucida is the brighter of a pair, which is 14th magnitude and has 0.3’ SF it a 14.5-magnitude star. I’m not going to note the whole of Czernik 11, but it has along its tail end, toward the F, some unresolved glow, and it’s kind of interesting that follows the path of the brighter stars. The brightest star in the field is 12’ P somewhat N of the lucida and is 9th magnitude. In the 7mm, the galaxy is much more obvious but still quite difficult; direct vision shows it better, but it’s very unconcentrated and poorly defined, with no real central concentration at all. (In previous observations of it, from the Mill Creek Yoga Retreat and elsewhere, I’ve observed a somewhat brighter core in it.)  I doubt Maffei 2 will even be visible considering how tenuous this sighting of Maffei 1 has been.

And yet Maffei 2 was visible, if only just.

12:07
Maffei 2 (Cas): The two Maffei galaxies are really difficult tonight; I’m sure this one’s always difficult—this is Maffei 2, and it is very much an averted vision object 90% of the time; I’m only getting occasional flashes of it in direct vision, but it’s definitely there. It’s situated between two little triangles, an isosceles right triangle made up of three 14.5-magnitude stars, and then a little perfect isosceles triangle P the galaxy. The galaxy might actually have some visible central brightening to it, and it helps to look toward the P to see it; it’s round, about 0.3’ diameter. The right-angle vertex of the triangle to the F is about 2’ to the F somewhat N the galaxy, and then that star has 1.67’ due F it the second star; the third lies due S of the right-angle vertex by the same distance. P somewhat N of the galaxy by 2.25’ is the F star at the base of the isosceles triangle; that star is the brightest of the three in the triangle and is 12th magnitude; P that star by 1’ is a 13th-magnitude star, and then from that 12th-magnitude star 2’ N very very slightly P is a 12.5-magnitude star; from that star 4’ NP is the brightest in the field, which is 8.5 magnitude and has N of it by 1.25’ a 13th-magnitude star. With the 7mm, there’s a threshold star F slightly N of the galaxy by less than 0.25’. Even at this magnification, it takes a break in the transparency for the galaxy to clearly appear. That is as difficult as anything I’ve ever observed.

Jerry laughed at my last comment, repeating it out loud as if he found it unbelievable. I suspect that he, and the other EAS Irregulars, were continually amused by my target choices, and how I often described faint objects as “surprisingly easy.”

The pain in my feet forced me to sit for several minutes; I’d spent too much time on objects that were in a bad position for my ladder.

Transcription note: the app transcribed “ridiculously hard” as “rude Deculus Lee hard.” I’m still trying to figure that one out.

In doing some examination of the POSS plates, I discovered that Maffei 2 is much stronger on the red plate than on the blue—no doubt due to its infrared emission and the reddening of the galactic plane. This would, of course, also help explain why a caveman with red-deficient vision would have a difficult time seeing the galaxy. (Maffei 1 is more equal between the red and blue plates.)

I stayed in the northern reaches for my next object, Böhm-Vitense 5-3. This planetary had been on my radar since January; now, on the other side of summer, I was finally able to track it down. The seeing helped, having suddenly become particularly solid.

12:49
Böhm-Vitense 5-3 (PK 131-05.1; Per): This planetary nebula is surprisingly visible with no filter, very faint up here in Perseus. It’s a very round, ghostly nebula which looks like, even if this magnification, it might be hinting at annularity. The nebula itself is about 0.5’ around, maybe a little less; it has a distracting 11th-magnitude star due F by 0.75’.  In averted vision, it seems like the rim is a little stronger on the N and NF edges. The nebula forms a roughly-equilateral triangle with that star to the F and a 13th-magnitude star N slightly F the nebula by 0.67’; but then 1’ N very slightly P the 13th-magnitude star is an 11.5-magnitude star, so the nebula also forms the SP tine of a small ‘y’ pattern that points N. There are a number of bright stars in the field, of which the brightest is 8.5 magnitude and lies S somewhat F the nebula by 15’, and then S somewhat P the nebula by 6.5’ is a 9th-magnitude star; the 8.5-magnitude star is in the middle of what I would call kind of a “shepherd’s crook” asterism of seven stars that’s oriented P-F and spans 3.5’, of which the 8.5-magnitude star is both in the middle and the most S of the seven. In the 7mm… the nebula really pops out at this magnification. The annulus is surprisingly much easier to see here. The rim does not seem to be perfectly defined; the outer edge of the nebula is fuzzy. No central star or color or anything is visible. Adding the O-III filter: I’m still not really picking up any detail on this that I couldn’t get before, although… yeah, it’s almost as if now it’s the S edge of the rim that’s the brighter, if only just slightly. 

This was my first opportunity to use the Astronomik O-III filter that I’d acquired while recovering from surgery. I was careful not to use it in the 14mm Explore, which had eaten the threads on my old Lumicon O-III on the cold February night on which I’d originally planned to observe B-V 5-3. The filter was darker than I’d recalled from using Dan’s Astronomik, although I was in a painful position on the ladder—practically on tiptoe—and didn’t have the patience to keep observing much after installing the filter.

My energy level wasn’t quite as high as it had been the night before; I was stopping between objects to sit and give my aching legs and feet breaks. At one point I almost dozed off in my chair—I didn’t feel tired, but I was obviously running out of steam.

Autumn nights aren’t to be wasted. I pressed onward, lower in the south, with a couple of flat galaxy fields in Cetus. But first, I spent some time with the excellent NGC 908, one of two grand spirals in Cetus that easily showed spiral structure (we had looked at the other, NGC 157, in Jerry’s scope earlier). And with Aries fully above the horizon, I had time to stop in on Uranus as well.

Instead of two moons of Uranus, high power revealed what might well have been three—Oberon seemed to have joined Titania and Ariel on the night. It was an extremely tentative sighting that even the Delos wouldn’t have pulled out further (I don’t think), but at least three times, I noted a faint speckle of light near the position indicated on Sky Safari.

What the hell—I was roughly in the general vicinity of a longtime quarry; why not go for it? Van den Burgh 16 is a reflection nebula in extreme eastern Aries, near the border with Taurus. I had first noted this little nebula as a small green block on the first edition of Sky Atlas 2000.0, but had always assumed it to be out of the grasp of any of my scopes in inferior skies. Here at Linslaw, with the 20-inch? If I was ever going to get a look at the nebula, it would be here.

After a few moments of panning around, I located the starfield, and… there it was.

A faint, gossamer glow surrounded a 9th-magnitude star to the P and F sides—it was considerably tenuous but undoubtedly there. I had been fascinated with the identity of this small cloud of silicate dusts for decades, and I had it in my eyepiece…

… at a level at which I could barely stand on the ladder.

I couldn’t take notes on the nebula, as it hurt too much to stoop at the knees, and it put too much pressure on my feet. I could only occasionally stand on tiptoe on a lower step in order to peer into the eyepiece. And the nebula was only rising, so it would be getting higher and less accessible as the night went on.

I had to abandon taking notes on vdB 16. Perhaps I would get a chance later in the autumn or winter if the skies cleared, but for now, I had to let it go. So back to the flat galaxies it was.

1:52
PGC 6966 (Cet): My first flat galaxy of the night, and it’s a really surprisingly-good one considering it’s “only” got a PGC number. This is PGC 6966 in Cetus, and it’s in a fairly-barren field, although there are a number of the stars in the field that are actually considerably bright. 

I went to move the ladder for better positioning, bumped the scope, and then whacked my eyepiece in the bargain. My recorder app’s transcription routine has learned my favorite swear words by heart, as it had plenty of opportunity to demonstrate while I inspected the damage (there was none, fortunately) and struggled to recapture the galaxy. The wind rumble on my recording added to the chaos, as it picked up in the cool night air.

After much searching and swearing, I’ve managed to recover the galaxy–this is PGC 6966 in Cetus, one of the better flat galaxies that I’ve seen recently. It’s a direct-vision object, very easy, in a fairly-barren field, although the stars that are present in the field are a little bit on the brighter side of things. The galaxy’s elongated about 165˚ PA, so N very slightly P-S very slightly F. It’s impressively large and wider in the middle, 2.25’ x 0.3’, with some moderate central brightening and a quite-well defined halo. About 1/3 of the way from the S end to the N, it has a 15th-magnitude star just off the F side.  5.5’ S slightly F is a 10.5-magnitude star; NF by 3.25’ is an 11th-magnitude star. Due P the galaxy by 8’ is a 10.5-magnitude star that has a 9.5-magnitude star N of it by 6.5’, a 10th-magnitude star 8’ P slightly S of it, and a 9.5-magnitude star S slightly P it by 15’.  In the 7mm Nagler: that’s a great flat galaxy there! It’s definitely irregular in brightness, but very well defined at this magnification. I don’t honestly know how this one got missed by, say, the Herschels or somebody, because this is a really impressive galaxy; it’s much brighter than some of the NGCs I’ve seen. The middle 1’ is considerably brighter than the rest; that might be partly illusory due to the presence of that star in the F side, but I don’t think so—I think that’s legit central brightening there, with the only the ends of the spiral arms fading away. 

I somehow missed PGCs 1071479 and 1071790, just outside the N-NP end of 6966.

Jerry headed out, having finished packing up while I was taking notes on PGC 6966. Given the uptick in the wind, it was a sensible move… certainly more sensible than staying to find one more galaxy. The wind was almost blustery by now, and the seeing and transparency were deteriorating. I took a few minutes’ break; Mark was wrapping up his imaging for the night.

I had to hold on to the Obsession to keep it from blowing off-target; this made it difficult to swap eyepieces. And, of course, I was in between steps on the ladder. (I can’t really call them rungs, so….)

2:12
UGCA 14; PGCs 2800, 986866 (Cet): UGCA 14 shares the field with a brighter highly-inclined galaxy that shows some central concentration; UGCA 14 at times looks to be the larger of the two, although quite a bit fainter. It’s of course very thin and pretty uniformly faint. (There was a second there where I thought I saw a nucleus, but no….) The galaxy is elongated almost perfectly P-F, 90° PA, and spans 1.67’ x 0.3’. The galaxy to the N [PGC 2800] is angled about 10˚ PA, with a small, brighter core and the occasional flash of a nucleus that’s not helped by having a 15.5-magnitude star 2’ F very slightly N. The two galaxies are about 4’ apart, center-to-center. There is definitely a nucleus to this brighter one; it’s 1.0’ x 0.3’ and I thought I saw…yeah, 5.5’ N very slightly F that galaxy is an evenly-faint, very small glow [PGC 986866], 0.25’ diameter, that has a 14th-magnitude star F slightly N of it by 1.75’. SP UGCA 14 is a Sagitta-like asterism with a 9th-magnitude star at the tip; 2.67’ F somewhat S of that star is an 11th-magnitude star, and then 5’ F slightly S of that star is a 12th-magnitude star that has a 13th-magnitude star 1.25’ S very very slightly P it. UGCA 14 is actually a little harder to discern in the 7mm, and it’s in a bad position with me on the ladder, so I’m going to have to curtail the observation. The galaxy may have a threshold star off the P end.

I came down from the ladder with something like a sense of relief. It’d been an excellent night observation-wise, but I was in legitimate pain from the knees down. Had it been worth it?

Absolutely.

Packing up was slow; Mark asked if it was OK to proceed ahead. Of course—I didn’t expect anyone to wait up for me. The president should always be the last one out anyway, as I’d been insisting since my southern Illinois days. Mark headed down the mountain as I was getting my ladder, table, truss poles, and other sundries stowed, having waited until I got the huge mirror/rocker box pairing loaded safely.

After finishing load-in, I did a once-around of the field with my headlamp, to make sure that nothing had been left by any of us. Satisfied, I turned my car-seat heater on, backed into the gravelled clearing at the base of the crag, and headed slowly down the mountain toward home.

III. A week passed, during which only one night was clear; the others were either cloudy or smoked out, as the Waldo Lake fire(s) was/were still out of control. I skipped the one clear night, so as to give my extremities a well-deserved respite. Our monthly-ish First Quarter Friday public outreach night was hazy, but cleared up well enough for me to show the stragglers Neptune and Triton, as well as a superb transit of Io across Jupiter, with Io becoming visible on the planet’s face as it reached the darkened limb (shout-out to EAS’ Aneesa Haq for spotting both Triton and Io before anyone else!). I had planned to go to Linslaw after FQF broke up for the night, but was too wiped out by the time I got the Obsession torn down and loaded; Dan B and Mark had gone to Linslaw (Dan at the lower site, as he was still feeling the aftereffects of his illness), but their early reports seemed to indicate that conditions weren’t worth the drive. I was almost relieved, and let myself relax enough so that when Dan texted and said that conditions had turned excellent, I was already mentally checked-out.

Finally, on the night of the actual First Quarter Moon—and less than two days before I returned to work—personal energy and sky conditions converged to summon me out to Linslaw again. With my agenda already at hand, I was prepared to give the early autumn dark-sky run one last charge.

Mark was in Arizona; Jerry and Kathy had spent the day traveling and were taking the night off, and Loren was still in North Dakota. So it was just me and Dan up on the crag as sunset began… and the two hunters who’d left their truck parked at the top and ventured down the hillside to pursue God knows what. (The night before, Dan had seen a mountain lion chasing a raccoon across the road up—the first time we’d seen any major fauna along that stretch of gravel road.)

We called down to make sure that they knew we were there, and went ahead with setting up. It was while I was collimating the Obsession that the hunters made it back to their truck; they were somewhat irritated that we’d scared off their deer by shouting down to them, although they were clearly swallowing some of their irritation. We apologized, having been unaware that it was deer season. The two of them—father and son, most likely—seemed to let it go, asking that if we used the site, not to make so much noise during the month that deer were fair game. Fair enough. We talked for a few minutes before they drove off; I could only imagine their conversation as they drove back home.

The Moon was still an inescapable presence as I finished collimating the optics and aligning the Telrad to the scope’s optical path. I checked out the terminator, the line between light and shadow on the non-Full Moon, where the craters are in their starkest relief—with the big scope, this was painfully akin to having an optometrist’s light shone in one’s eyes during an exam, and would prevent deep-sky observing for at least a half-hour while dark adaptation slowly recovered from the assault. No matter; we had 3.5 hours between sunset and moonset.

The Moon was in Sagittarius, right in the thick of the Milky Way action; I scoped out some of the bright globulars at a greater remove from the immediate vicinity of our primary natural satellite, also spending significant time on the available planets and their moons. Conditions weren’t great: the seeing was soft, the transparency diminished by smoke or a damp marine layer. Possibly both.

Nonetheless, it was while observing Neptune and Triton, a half-hour before Moonset, that I stumbled across what would become my first object of the night—an entirely serendipitous right-place/right-time “discovery” that would be a harbinger of the observing night ahead.

10/1-10/2/22
LINSLAW POINT
SUNSET: 6:53 PM
MOON: 7 days (set at 10:23 PM; 41% illuminated)
SEEING: 6, 7
TRANSPARENCY: 5, 6
SQM: 21.4
NELM: not checked
WEATHER CONDITIONS: temps to 58F; slight dew later; air still and hazy; mild but clammy 
OTHERS PRESENT: DB
All observations: 20″ f/5 Obsession Dob, 14mm ES 82˚ eyepiece (181x, 0.45˚ TFOV) or 7mm TeleVue Nagler (363x, 0.21˚ TFOV) unless otherwise noted

10:09
PGC 71913 (MCG-1-60-14; Aqr): I stumbled across this surprisingly-bright little galaxy while observing Neptune and Triton, and it’s easily visible despite the presence of the nearly First Quarter Moon
. The galaxy is 0.5’ NF an 11.5-magnitude star and is roundish, 0.5’ diameter, with a pretty well defined halo and very broad central concentration, although it does come to an almost-stellar nucleus. The halo seems to be brighter along its S edge. From the 11.5-magnitude star N slightly P by 2.75’ is a 12th-magnitude star that’s just slightly dimmer than the one next to the galaxy, and then from that star N somewhat P by 1.75’ is a 13th-magnitude star; Neptune is 4’ S somewhat F the 11.5-magnitude star; Triton is 10” N very slightly P Neptune ( I believe it was listed as 13.6 magnitude right now; obviously, with Neptune so close, it’s a bit of a challenge). 

Although this first galaxy was in Aquarius, I spent the majority of the night working through Pegasus, Pisces, and Cetus; picking off the galaxies in Equuleus would have to resume at some unspecified later time. Sunset long ago faded and moonset just finished, it was time to plow ahead on my agenda, mediocre conditions be damned.

11:04
UGC 11964; NGC 7241 (Peg): This galaxy pair consists of a flat galaxy, UGC 11964, and its much larger, very bright and impressive companion NGC 7241 in Pegasus; we’ll start with U11964 because it’s the target here. It’s a very, very difficult, phantasmic streak of 1.0’ x … I’m barely even capable of measuring it; it’s only a few arcseconds thick at best, maybe 7” ? The galaxy is oriented in 45˚ PA. On the NF end of the galaxy, just P that and very, very slightly N, there’s a threshold star that just flickers into view every now and then and that’s interfering with the observation; it also doesn’t help that there’s a 10.5-magnitude star 2.25’ F somewhat S. There’s no detail at all discernible with this galaxy; it’s just hovering on the verge of visibility. It does have, F slightly N of it by 2.25’, a 15th-magnitude star. 3.75’ NP the galaxy is the F-most in a line of three, all of which are 13th magnitude, and that line is 1.5’ long and runs NP from that star; the second star is 0.3’ NP the first, and the third star is along that same line 0.75’ from the second. no we’re 1.75’ S of the first (F-most) star in that line is another of 13th magnitude, and then, again from the first star in that line of three, 2.3’ SP is a 10.5-magnitude star. UGC 11964 has just about disappeared at the moment; but 3.25’ NF the 10.5-magnitude star that’s F somewhat S of it is an 11.5-magnitude star; that star has a 12.5-magnitude star N slightly F it by 2.3’, NGC 7412 is almost directly between those two stars (it’s a little bit P those two but parallel) and stretches nearly from one to the other; the star on the N end is just a little bit F the actual N end of the galaxy; the star in the S end, the 11.5-magnitude star, is also the P-most vertex of a triangle and has a 14th-magnitude star SF it by 0.5’; the 11.5-magnitude star has a 14.5-magnitude star due F it by 0.75’ and a 13.5-magnitude star N somewhat P it by 1.5’; that 13.5-magnitude star has a 16th-magnitude star N somewhat P it by 0.5’. This galaxy is disrupted-looking or distorted; it’s obviously a spiral, but the core is skewed toward the S end; the galaxy is 2.25’ x 0.67’ and that 0.67’, the widest part of it, is down closer to the 11.5-magnitude star; the core there is is 0.5’ long and much brighter than the halo; that 11.5-magnitude star is just off the southern tip of the core and the galaxy slightly extends farther S beyond that star. There’s no nucleus visible on this one; the halo is pretty well defined, almost teardrop-shaped. I’ve spent more time on that one than the flat galaxy because it’s just got much more detail; the flat galaxy is not showing well at all. The 7mm is too much power for the flat galaxy under these conditions; that’s definitely a threshold star there on the NF edge, but the galaxy is otherwise barely visible now at this magnification. The NGC galaxy is also somewhat washed out, although there seems to be mottling indistinctly visible. 

Given how weak UGC 11964 appeared on the POSS plates, I was impressed to have seen it at all. Finding it had to be considered something of a triumph.

My next two targets had been on my agenda for years; in fact, UGC 12281 was the very first flat galaxy I had searched for, and was the first time I’d ever actually heard of specific “flat galaxies.” I had seen it a couple of times over the years, but never with the certainty I wanted in order to take notes on it. It bedeviled me yet again on this night, a razor-slash ghost of light in a field with several distracting bright stars. It may take a perfect night before I can document UGC 12281 to my satisfaction.

The other target was PGC 70994, the X-shaped ring galaxy in Pisces. How can a ring-shaped object also be X-shaped? Because the “hub” or core of the galaxy is elongated from the collision that formed the ring, and the ring itself is oriented edge-on (like a flat galaxy!) to our line of sight. I’d also seen this one before, twice, but it was extremely tenuous both times; nonetheless, I have a suspicion that this object, like UGC 12281, will impress and show more detail under better conditions than I had this first weekend of October.

Over the course of the last year or so, I’d started wondering if my transparency ratings at Linslaw were too generous. Certainly, on nights where the SQM read 21.7+, there was no reason to suspect that this was the case, as on those nights the Milky Way was overflowing with dimension and detail (these nights corresponded with the dry summer season in the Valley). But in the spring and autumn, especially lower in declination, the sky seemed somewhat murkier than in the summer; the site’s proximity to the ocean and the marine layer no doubt had a greater effect than I may have taken into account on previous occasions. Maybe it was time for me to start assessing the transparency with two different ratings, or perhaps simply to revise the number down to an average of the two halves of the sky. (My notes for this set of entries don’t factor this into the transparency ratings.)

There is some overlap between the Hickson and Shakhbazian catalogues; some of the Hicksons were, for various reasons, included in the Shakhbazian catalogue. Hickson 97 was one such—it’s also known as Shakhbazian 30. I did not know this until much later, as I was cleaning up my transcriptions. Regardless of the name, this was one of the more enjoyable observations of the whole run.

11:48
ICs 5357, 5356, 5351, 5359 (Hickson 97; Shakhbazian 30; Psc):
 So this is Hickson 97, which brackets a 10.5-magnitude star that has 3.25’ due P it a 13th-magnitude star that has just 10” N of it a 14th-magnitude star. 2.5’ P somewhat N the 10.5-magnitude star is the largest and brightest of the Hickson galaxies [IC 5357], which is 0.75’ x 0.5’, with a well-defined halo, a suddenly-brighter core and a stellar nucleus; the galaxy is elongated N very slightly P-S very slightly F, about 165˚ PA. 3.5’ due S of that galaxy is a second [IC 5356] that is well defined, considerably fainter, and roundish, at 0.5’ diameter, with a large (compared to the halo), slightly-brighter core and a trace of a stellar nucleus visible in averted vision. It has 0.75’ S slightly P it a 15th-magnitude star that has another 15th-magnitude star 0.75’ S very slightly F it; that last star is S of the galaxy by 1.3’. That galaxy also has 0.75’ NF it a 15th-magnitude star that has a 14.5-magnitude star 0.75’ NF it. I made a mistake earlier: I said this group surrounds a 10.5-magnitude star and a 13th-magnitude star due P the 10.5-magnitude star by 3.25’, and that 13th-magnitude star had a fainter star N of it—that fainter star is actually the third galaxy in the Hickson [IC 5351], which is quite small; it’s no more than 0.3’ and is pretty well defined, but it has kind of a substantial stellar nucleus to it, which is why I mistook it for a star in the poor transparency; the halo wasn’t very clear and I just saw the nucleus to it, without much of a core. The fourth galaxy [IC 5359; PGC 72430; MCG-1-60-36] was there a minute ago, and is an edge-on streak; it’s a third of the way from that previously-noted 10.5-magnitude star to a 10th-magnitude star that’s 5’ F very slightly N of the 10.5-magnitude star; the 10th-magnitude star also has 0.75’ NP it a 12th-magnitude star. That last galaxy, the edge-on, is barely visible and is 1.5’ F the 10.5-magnitude star; it’s 1.0’ x 0.1’, and is elongated in 135˚ PA. It may have a very small core/nucleus region to it. The 7mm really brings out the first three galaxies; [IC 5356] is elongated in 45° PA and is about 3:2 elongation; the fourth galaxy is almost impossible at the moment. There’s not much in the way of detail on the edge-on, but it does seem a very slight bit brighter in the center.

I missed two photographically-obvious PGC galaxies to the SF: PGCs 72461 and 72457.

I took another short break after Hickson 97 to let my feet rest; my non-repaired left foot hurt even more than the reconstructed right. One additional fix to the ladder: adding a pad to the top step, so that I could sit/kneel on it more comfortably. I also needed to ask Jerry about the “foot shelves” or removable steps he built for his old observing ladder.

My observing agenda often consists primarily of small objects, faint objects, and small faint objects, with a few larger or brighter targets thrown in for either specific reasons or for a break from the eye-straining majority. I’d included NGC 157 and NGC 908 in Cetus for just this reason (and because the spiral structure was obviously visible), but had already observed those the night before. I had also observed my next target previously, but included it on my list in order to take better notes on it… and because it was something of a showpiece in the larger optics of the Obsession.

12:38
NGCs 128, 130, 127, 126, 125 (Psc): If you keep looking for more-obscure stuff, your patience is eventually rewarded with something that’s impressive: this is the NGC 128 group in Pisces, and there are at least five galaxies here that are fairly easy to pick up. NGC 128 is a bright, well defined, somewhat-irregular galaxy that’s 2’ long, with tapering, fading arms; it’s oriented in 180˚ PA, due N-S, with a substellar nucleus; it’s 2.0’ x 0.3’, the core making up the middle 0.75’ of the galaxy (I know it’s got that irregular, box-shaped core, but at 181x I don’t really get a good sense of this). NF NGC 128 by 1’ is a tiny fuzzy spot [NGC 130] with what looks like a stellar nucleus to it; 0.75’ NP 128 is another small round galaxy [NGC 127] that’s much more diffuse, with no central concentration to it; it’s fainter than the one NF; neither is more than 0.25’ around, but both are pretty well defined. 4.75’ S slightly F NGC 128 is a 12.5-magnitude star; there’s a 12th-magnitude star SP 128 by 3.25’, and then from that star 1.67’ S somewhat F is another galaxy [NGC 126]: this one is oriented in 120˚ PA, so N somewhat P-S somewhat F, and spans 0.5’ x 0.3’; it’s diffuse and poorly defined and has a very small, gradually-brighter core that’s only slightly brighter than the halo; it also has 1’ SF it a 15.5-magnitude star, which is a distraction from the galaxy. 7’ P very slightly S of NCC 128 is a fourth galaxy [NGC 125], which at first seemed to have some N-S elongation, but now seems to be more just roundish; it’s the second-brightest in this group and is 0.67’ in diameter, with a sudden, brighter core, a substellar nucleus, and a reasonably well-defined halo; S very slightly P it by 0.75’ is the more-N of a pair of 12.5-magnitude stars; these are separated by 0.3’, with the S one S slightly F the more-N one. Speaking of bright… there’s NGC 128 in the 7mm, which I think is actually too much power, because the little “ears” are really hard to see now; the other galaxies are much better, but those two are not looking so hot. Switching to the 10mm Delos… wow, the Delos really brightens things up! (I can’t get over how much better this eyepiece is than all of my other ones.) [NGC 125] really is quite a fine object; it’s got a really striking nucleus. [NGC 126] is really quite well defined here, in opposition to my previous comments. The two “ears” of 128 are not particularly easy at this magnification, but they are still noteworthy, especially in averted vision. An excellent group!

While I was describing NGCs 127 and 130, NGC 128’s “ears,” the entire crag lit up, as if hit by a helicopter searchlight; the light lasted for less than a second. Dan and I both gave startled shouts. A fireball meteor had burst over us! Dan had caught the tail end of it as it disintegrated, but I had only seen its flash on the ground and the upper end of the telescope.

It took more than a minute to get back to observing the NGC 128 group; my notes are full of stunned chatter between the two of us. Had I seen the meteor, I might no doubt have likened it to one of the 1998 Leonids that I had seen from Sapello, New Mexico, on a night when the meteors rained down like a Roman-candle fight between the gods. It surely would’ve been the brightest meteor I’d caught since then.

Strangely enough, despite knowing that my next target contained multiple galaxies, it didn’t connect with me that it might’ve been a Hickson Compact Group; when I went through my transcription, I simply wrote it up as if it was a group of unrelated galaxies. This meant that I also forgot to look for the fourth galaxy in the group (IC 184 obviously didn’t count due to its distance from the others), because one of the criteria of Hickson groups is that they have at least four members.

1:27
PGC 7557/MCG-1-6-22; PGCs 7553, 7550; IC 184 (Hickson 14; Cet): This is the PGC 7557 group in Cetus, in an area where you can’t swing a dead nutria without hitting a PGC galaxy of some size; these are a little bit difficult because they’re wedged in between a 9th-magnitude star to the S and an 8th-magnitude star to the N; those two stars are about 6’ apart, and the first galaxy [PGC 7557] is N very slightly F the 9th-magnitude star by 1.75. It’s the fainter of the two, 0.67’ x 0.25’, elongated N-S. It’s pretty diffuse, with very very little central concentration, although every now and then I do get a flash of something like a stellar nucleus there. The brighter of the two galaxies [PGC 7553] is N somewhat P the previous one by 2’, and is elongated… when we’re looking at these little faint guys it’s hard to tell, but I think it’s the NP-SF or some variant thereof. It’s bigger and better defined than the previous galaxy, 0.75’ x 0.3’, and considerably brighter, with some gradual central concentration up to a faint stellar nucleus. From the 8th-magnitude star 8’ N very slightly P is a 10.5-magnitude star, and that star has another galaxy [IC 184] N very slightly P it by 2.67’; this one is elongated roughly N-S, and may be the brightest of the bunch; it’s the most obvious, certainly, and has a gradually-brighter core and a faint stellar nucleus to it. With the 10mm Delos, [PGC 7553] really leaps out, but there’s another [PGC 7550] NP that one by 1.75’, a little tiny speck of a galaxy that’s pretty much an averted-vision object; it’s 0.25’ x 1.25’, maybe N-S elongated? There’s not much to it; it’s not very well concentrated, with no core or anything to latch on to. The galaxy well to the N of those three [IC 184] is quite impressive in the Delos; it’s a little thing and not very bright but it still shows up really well. It has an obvious nucleus and an elongated core and is quite well defined. (I do wish I could get the stars out of the field, those 8th- and 9th-magnitude stars.)

When I started observing Hickson 14, it was just barely at standing height—I could keep my feet on the ground while looking into the eyepiece. A couple of minutes into the observation, though, I needed about a quarter-step on the ladder.

From Hickson to Shakhbazian. This next might be my favorite observation of the whole run, and a target I’ll make multiple return trips to.

1:51
PGCs 8315, 8330, 8329, 8340, 8328, 96667 (Shakhbazian 317; Cet): Had it not been a great night already, this would have clinched it;
 this is Shakhbazian 317 in Cetus, and I am really impressed that it shows so well on a night when the transparency seems so poor. This is a very challenging string of galaxies beginning N of a 12.5-magnitude star and proceeding NF from there; or, rather, the 12.5-magnitude star has a 13th-magnitude star S very slightly P it by 2.75’, and then from the 12.5-magnitude star 2’ N very slightly F is the first of the galaxies [PGC 8315] in the string; this one is somewhat diffuse, but it does have either a very small brighter core or a substellar nucleus, possibly both; if it is both, then the core is not very bright. That galaxy is about 0.5’ in diameter and pretty well defined. 2.75’ NF that first galaxy by 2.75’ is the first of a pair of tiny galaxies; the first of these [PGC 8330] looks smaller than the other, maybe 0.25’ at best, with almost no central concentration at all. The next [PGC 8329] is F somewhat N of the previous; those two are separated only by 0.67’, and the second one is much the brighter; it’s 0.5’ in diameter, with a small, sudden, very slightly brighter core and a very faint stellar nucleus. From that galaxy 2.75’ NF is a 13th-magnitude star, and that star has 0.67’ S somewhat F it another small galaxy [PGC 8340]; this one is round, with a very slightly brighter small core and a very faint stellar nucleus. With the 10mm Delos, the nucleus is really popping out of [PGC 8315]. It looks like there’s another galaxy [PGC 8328] between [PGC 8315] and [PGC 8330]; there’s a very diffuse, very difficult faint (but not averted-vision) object there, about halfway between [PGC 8315] and [PGC 8330]; the nucleus is now really obvious in [PGC 8329]. There may actually be a second one [PGC 96667] there on the NF end, 1.3’ due S of [PGC 8340]; it’s very small, but has a distinct nucleus to it, and there may be a 16th-magnitude star just off the NF edge of it. So that’s six galaxies there; I know there are more that I could probably tweeze out with higher magnification on a more-transparent night, but that’s a fantastic sight nonetheless.

The seeing and transparency both visibly wavered while I was observing Shakhbazian 317; there might have been some largely-invisible cirrus or the like moving through Cetus at the time. The southern reaches of the sky seemed a bit hazy, but no worse than usual. The air was clammy, as if on the verge of dewfall, but that too was common here in the early fall.

I somehow missed PGC 8326, which was situated next to PGC 8328. I will, of course, have to revisit Shk 317 under better conditions regardless.

I had previously observed NGC 100 with EAS’ fine homemade 18-inch scope, but after observing fainter quarry for much of the evening, I was ready for something easier. I needed better notes on it anyway.

2:24
NGC 100 (Psc):
 NGC 100 is a very fine flat galaxy!  It’s about 3’ x 0.25’, oriented in 70˚ PA; it doesn’t have much in the way of central brightening, but it still looks mottled or irregular in brightness, and is well defined. Every so often I get a hint that the F side of the galaxy has a sharper cutoff; I won’t say if it’s a dust lane. The galaxy has a 13th-magnitude star 4.5’ SP it, and then 1.75’ S very slightly P the galaxy is a 15th-magnitude star. 10’ F somewhat S is the brightest in the field, which is 8th magnitude. P somewhat N by 5.5’ is a 12th-magnitude star. Along the major axis to the N, just outside the N end of the galaxy, is a 15.5-magnitude star that has another 15.5-magnitude star NP it by 1’; there are a lot of really faint stars in the near vicinity of the galaxy. 12’ P somewhat S of the galaxy by 12’ is a 10th-magnitude star that’s part of a long arc of nine; that star is third from N, and the arc starts at the P edge of the field and terminates S of the galaxy. 

I decided, in a moment of sheer laziness, that the view in the 14mm Explore was enough, and I didn’t need the Delos. Observing was supposed to be fun, right? (That’s the excuse I’m providing, and I’m sticking with it.)

2:38
UGC 260 (Psc): UGC 260 is not actually that far from NGC 100, and is also a reasonably-bright galaxy; I’m always mystified at some of the stuff that gets missed up there by great observers of the past, and this is one of those objects. This one is 2.0’ x 0.25’, elongated in PA˚ 20. The central third is slightly brighter than the rest of it, and every so often there seems to be a nucleus visible that’s skewed a little bit toward the P edge. It has a 13.5-magnitude star F slightly N it by 2.25’; that star has a double star N of it by 2’, consisting of a 13.5-magnitude star that has a 14.5-magnitude companion to the S by 4”. 3’ N of the galaxy is a 14.5-magnitude star. There’s an asterism N of the galaxy that kind of looks like a tilted F-16 headed toward the P, with a vaguely N-S line of three as the tail and a row of fainter stars just N of the galaxy (including the double and the 14.5-magnitude star N of the galaxy) as the S-most of the swept wings. The S-most star in the “tail” is 8’ N somewhat F the galaxy and is 12th magnitude; it has 3’ N very slightly P it another 12th-magnitude star, and that star has a 10.5-magnitude star 1’ N of it. The brightest star in that F-16 asterism is 7’ NP the galaxy and is magnitude 9.5. The seeing isn’t steady enough for the 7mm, but it does show that the “nucleus” is a 15.5-magnitude star just outside the P edge of the galaxy.

How did I miss PGC 1652, just P UGC 260?

I had the 7mm Nagler in my pocket, and used it rather than jumping down to get the Delos for UGC 260.

It was nearly 3 AM now, and I’d had a night full of wonders. I could’ve stopped there—Dan was dozing in his chair—but the Universe was pressing me to keep going, in the same way that religious or military people feel called by some higher power. I had more to observe, because there was more to observe.

3:12
Palomar 2 (Aur): One that wasn’t on my agenda for the night: Palomar 2 in Auriga. I’m more than a bit surprised that I picked this up as easily as I did, but this both brighter and larger than I expected; it’s 1.25’ in diameter, and obviously quite faint and diffuse, but unmistakable in the field. Inside the cluster, on the SP side, is an individual star that’s visible above the background glow of the cluster. 2.25’ F very slightly N of the cluster is a 13.5-magnitude star that has a 15th-magnitude star 0.5’ N of it. 8’ S somewhat F the cluster is an 11th-magnitude star; there’s a 10th-magnitude star S of the cluster by 10’; then N somewhat P the cluster by 6’ is a 13th-magnitude star at the NF end of a squashed narrow trapezoid that is elongated P-F. Due N of the cluster by 14’ is the brightest in an arc of three; that star is 11.5 magnitude, and has F very slightly S of it by 2.25’ a 12.5-magnitude star that has 4’ SF it a 12th-magnitude star. 

Pal 2 was in quite a bad position for me ladder-wise; I had to stop in the middle of the observation for a minute’s rest.

Spurred on by Palomar 2, I swung the scope back south for a globular that was on my list, one that I had seen before in similar conditions but with the smaller 12.5-inch scope. I fully expected it to be my last object for the night.

3:34
NGC 1049 (For): After all of my galaxy hunting, it’s odd that I’m ending with globulars, although this one was at least on the agenda. I’ve seen NGC 1049 before under similarly-mediocre conditions and with a smaller scope, but this is probably the better of the two views. I suspect it’s bigger than 0.3’ in diameter, but this far north, that’s about all I can see of it. The cluster does come to a nearly-stellar point in the center. The surrounding field is really barren (probably a function of atmospheric extinction as much as of an actual dearth of stars there); there’s an 11.5-magnitude star due N of the cluster by 7.5’, a 13th-magnitude star P very slightly S of the cluster by 5’, and a 13.5-magnitude star 10’ S very very slightly F the cluster. 16’ S very very slightly P is an 8th-magnitude star, and N somewhat F by 15’ is a 10th-magnitude star that has a 10.5-magnitude star due F it by 3.75’.  We’ll try the 7mm here; it’s gotta be good for something tonight. (I know there are other globulars there; I don’t know that I’ve got the patience for them.) The seeing down there is atrocious right now, like looking across the bottom of a swimming pool. At this magnification, the cluster looks a little bit lumpy, actually; as if there are more stars resolved on the P side.

Adventures in transcription: the auto-transcriber wrote “Fornax Dwarf Galaxy” as “floor next to worse galaxy.” Maybe I just enunciate poorly….

But I noticed, as I was finishing with NGC 1049, that there was another similar (but smaller) spot in the vicinity, one that was clearly non-stellar. Could it be another…?

3:43
Fornax 4 (For):
 This one is a real surprise, given how appallingly-low we are in the sky—NGC 1049 is only 11˚ above the horizon, and this second Fornax Dwarf globular is S of it. Using the 8th-magnitude star S very slightly P NGC 1049 as a guidepost; that star has F slightly S by 8’ a tiny fuzzy speck… well, it’s actually not that tiny, relatively; it’s a little under 0.25’ diameter. It seems to have a threshold-level star N very close to it, but it’s jumping around; I’m having that “sparkle vision” effect there. From the cluster SF by 5.5’ is the P-most of a triangle, which is… in the terrible atmospheric extinction down there I’m gonna say that’s 13th magnitude; it has 1.3’ F somewhat S of it an 11th-magnitude star that has 0.75’ S very very slightly P it a 13th-magnitude star. That’s a pretty incredible sighting under the circumstances! It doesn’t look like much, but knowing what it is makes it more than worth the effort; I’ll have to return here with a chart to find the others if I can.

I didn’t know which globular this one actually was until I got home and was able to check Alvin Huey’s Local Group observing guide, and it annoyed me that I didn’t have his guide chart for the Fornax Dwarf (“for next worth,” according to the app) globulars with me at the time, given that I had NGC 1049 on my observing list; that was a distinct lack of preparation on my part. The next time out with the 20-inch, I’ll be ready, as I now have the chart stored on my phone.

It was after 4 AM that I started teardown of the monster scope—six hours since I began my first set of notes, and nine hours after getting the Obsession assembled. I had put in twenty hours’ observing during the three nights of the late September/early October run… not a bad stretch quality-wise, and phenomenal quality-wise (despite the sometimes murky skies). Flat galaxies, galaxy groups, faint globular clusters, planetary moons… I may not have done valuable scientific work, or accomplished something tangible and lasting, but this was my calling. As Carl Sagan had put it, I was the Universe knowing itself.

I had no regrets as I tore down the big telescope for the night; the observing session had reached a natural and fulfilling end, and I still had energy for the drive home. Dan headed out just ahead of me, as I was stowing my table and ladder in the Flex (on opposite sides of the Obsession).

I took a last look around the site, checking for anything we might’ve left behind, and then a final glance at the rising winter stars. There would no doubt be a few more opportunities to stargaze before the rain and clouds broke in the spring, but if I had seen the last of the autumn sky for 2022, it had been a glorious hurrah.

***

Raga Hemant is a post-monsoon season autumn raga. The first video shows its contemplative aspect, the second a more-virtuosic side. Both performances put into sound the exhilaration of the fall stargazing season. The lead instrument in both is the sarod, a fretless cousin of the sitar.



Something of Jubilee

[Editor’s note: I had forgotten, when writing my previous entry, that there was one other observation at the end of April, after the one described there; I have since added it to the previous post. There were no object notes taken due to the sky conditions on that occasion, but I added it for completeness’ sake.]

Ah, September.

I’ve written before about my fondness for the nights of autumn—the rise of the delicate constellations of the Celestial Ocean, the perfect temperatures, the end of the Midwestern humidity and plagues of mosquitoes. Sitting on the sidewalk at my parents’ house with my C8, digging my first NGC objects (6905 and 6934) out of the grey, light-ravaged sky amid the incandescent glow of a dozen lampposts and porch lights, Led Zeppelin setting the stage from somewhere near my feet. There was a quality to the air in the Midwest autumn that I’ve spent my whole life trying to find words for—a scent/aura/feel that has defied my caveman vocabulary for the fifty years that I’ve been aware of it. In a way, the only word that can describe it is raga: “that which colors the mind.”

Those qualities aren’t in the air in the Willamette Valley, but others exist here that have their own mystique: namely, the quality of a dark, Moonless night spent atop a small, cozy mountaintop, with the stars—innumerable from these remote locales—seemingly ripe for plucking from the sky’s grasp. In western Oregon, there’s a breath of finality on the September winds: the knowledge that the turn of the seasons brings with it blankets of unrelenting clouds and months of unyielding rain. Elsewhere in the Northern Hemisphere, astronomers might spend the colder months fine-tuning (or purchasing!) their equipment, venturing into the cold night only for a few glimpses at the winter sky’s many treasures; here at 44N/123W, the nights are warm enough for long observing sessions, if the skies could only manage to stay clear. September was, more often than not, the end of our regular treks for the year, and the start of an unwanted, externally-enforced hibernation.

For me, late August and early September of 2022 was a sort of rebirth. My surgically-repaired right foot had reached a point where the unreconstructed left foot was usually the source of greater and more-persistent pain. I had ventured out observing in early August, hauling my 70mm TeleVue Pronto (a mighty beast, to be sure) up to the Eagle’s Ridge spur or Linslaw Point a couple of times, wheels courtesy of Dan B; I was still at that point nowhere near capable of driving for more than a couple of minutes. I made great headway on the Astronomical League’s double-star program during this stretch, picking up where I left off with it in 2019, the last time I did a couple of nights of double stars. Those nights were just as valuable for the company—my astronomy tribe, always willing to put up with whatever nonsense I had come up with—as for the quality of the observing. But I was almost desperate to get back to the observing I know best, with the telescopes that had become extensions of my caveman self.

Eventually, wheeled knee-carts and crutches gave way to a three-point cane, and Pronto—always ready for action; hence the name—gave way to Bob the Dob. In Warren Ellis’ classic comic series Transmetropolitan, characters routinely had mechanical or electronic augmentations done to their bodies, even when doing so looked utterly ridiculous; this 12.5-inch Discovery Dobsonian was my augmentation, almost as much a part of me as my own eyes. It was time to don the beast again, to begin again to extract ancient photons from obscure corners of the infinite.

This year, autumn’s advent hours also marked the peak of fire season. Waldo Lake was burning—not in the way that Lake Erie used to burn in the 1970s from all of the pollutants, but from extended drought and assholes who were too good to follow common sense and sensible rules. The smoke from the Waldo fires (and others) was to diminish the sky quality in the Valley for well over a month… a minor inconvenience compared to the suffering it caused those living in the area, to be sure. It’s always easy to overlook the more-serious consequences of our damage to the environment when complaining of unusually-low SQM readings or litter at our observing sites; we’ve become pretty spoiled by the quality of our observing conditions. My nostalgia for the nascent days of my astronomy life is a good check on this—how much I managed to accomplish in the always-grey skies over my childhood home, with more-modest equipment!

I. Under most other circumstances, I wouldn’t be going out on a Sunday; I’d have work the next morning, and it wouldn’t be a good idea to start the work week off tired. But coming off of surgery—and already being surprisingly behind on my recovery schedule—I had little else to do. The only issues were whether or not I was capable of hauling a 12.5-inch telescope out, and if I could handle walking around the crag with its uneven, rocky ground (the observing area itself being flat and gravel-covered).

At least, I thought those were the only issues; I discovered another as I was collimating the scope. Having sat idle in my garage since (essentially) February, the scope had been covered yet vulnerable to the considerable dust of multiple remodeling projects that had occurred in the house during my recovery. Sitting slightly elevated in its rocker box, the mirror box—open on the bottom for circulation—allowed a thick coating of said dust to get deposited on the mirror. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, the astronomy gods decided to troll me further by adding a trail of mouse tracks scampering across the mirror face.

So much for searching for the faint and obscure on the night. As darkness fell and I began aligning the Telrad finder with the telescope optics, the effects of the dust became apparent: a loss of contrast on fainter targets and haloes of scattered light around brighter stars. My agenda for the night was for naught. So was my dignity; Jerry promptly pronounced Bob the Dob’s mirror to be the filthiest he’d ever seen, and the notion that the EAS president would let his prized mirror fall into such a state provided fodder for the others for the rest of the night.

One of the advantages about being a compulsive type-A list maker is having contingency plans for such circumstances. I was disappointed about being unable to finally get back to my usual aperture-challenging stuff, but I was also a substantial number of objects short of finishing my notes on the whole Messier Catalogue. As I had done by using the Pronto several weeks before, I learned to take what the conditions and optics gave me.

Jerry had the 20″ TriDob; Dan and his coworker Colleen, visiting from San Diego, had Dan’s own 20″ Explore Dob; Mark was imaging with a new (as far as I could tell) refractor, taking frames of the eastern Veil Nebula. Dan’s challenge was Einstein’s Cross, a multiple-lensed quasar situated well behind its lensing galaxy. Jerry was doing “tourist things,” looking at whatever seemed interesting. He had already shown me the dust lanes of the Andromeda Galaxy and G1, the Local Group’s largest globular cluster; this had been my best-ever view of G1, even though it killed my foot to climb the step or two required on Jerry’s ladder to get to the eyepiece.

All things considered, Bob the Dob was even performing well. While waiting for full darkness, and for my first Messier target to heave into observing position, I spent several minutes examining Saturn and its attendant moons. This caused no small amount of further ribbing from my cohorts, who took great glee in pointing out that I’d been reduced to examining planets and their satellites. I did manage, however, to spot Enceladus for the first time (of which I was aware); I even stuck with it for a while, impressed with not only the sky conditions and the view of the Saturnian system, but with the collimation of the scope—despite the long layoff, the scope had held decent collimation in the garage, and I had gotten the mirror alignment spot-on (even accounting for the pain that crouching behind the scope during the collimation process had caused).

Finally, four hours after sunset, my first Messier target was ready for observing.

08/28-08/29/22
LINSLAW POINT
SUNSET: 7:55 PM
MOON: 2 days (set at 8:55 PM; 4% illuminated)
SEEING: 7
TRANSPARENCY: 7
SQM: 21.4
NELM: not checked
WEATHER CONDITIONS: temps to 60F; slight dew; air calm 
OTHERS PRESENT: JO (20”), DB, Colleen, MW
All observations: 12.5″ f/5 Discovery Dob, 14mm ES 82˚ eyepiece (112x, 0.7˚ TFOV), 7mm TeleVue Nagler (225x, 0.36˚ TFOV), or 4.8mm TeleVue Nagler (323x, 0.25˚ TFOV)  unless otherwise noted

11:46
M73 (NGC 6994; Aqr):  Starting off with M73, since I’m doing bright stuff here due to my mirror being disgustingly dirty after several months’ layoff; it’s nothing more than a Y-shaped asterism of four stars; the P-most star is 11.5 magnitude; the middle star is F very very slightly S of it by 0.3’ and is 12th magnitude; from that star F very very slightly S by 0.67’ is the brightest of the four stars, which is 10.5 magnitude; from the middle star F very very slightly N by 0.67’ is the fourth star, which is 11th magnitude.  Even in the really cruddy conditions and with a cruddy mirror there’s no real nebulousness here that Messier thought he saw. 12’ P the P-most of the stars is the brightest star in the field, which is 9th magnitude, and then from the P-most star in the cluster 21’ S very slightly F is a 9.5-magnitude star.  16’ F very slightly S of the P-most star in the group is a 10th-magnitude star.

M73 was an unusual choice with which to begin; it’s one of the most mundane of the Messier objects (only the double star M40 is less interesting from a telescopic standpoint), and I had the entirety of the Sagittarius Milky Way objects to take notes on (except for M8 and M20—both of which I’d done during the Herschel lists—and the globular clusters, all of which I’d taken notes on already for various reasons). The open clusters M6 and M7, in Scorpius, were already past their prime and buried in the horizon muck, I’d forgotten about M26 in Scutum, and the Cygnus clusters M29 and M39 were still high overhead and would require standing to take notes on until they’d had time to sink lower in the sky. So M73 it was… especially considering that all the neighboring Messiers (M2, M72, and M30) had also been noted extensively as part of my globular cluster project.

Dan, meanwhile, had found the lensing galaxy for Einstein’s Cross, but had yet to spot any of the lensed-quasar images around it.

I “observed around” for a while, still a bit torqued by the condition of my mirror, until my next few objects cleared the trees above the crag. That’s right—I was actually looking north. First it was planets, now it was facing the wrong way. And I even spent the rest of the evening that way.

12:53
M103 (NGC 581; Cas): Since we’re knocking Messiers out here, this is M103, which astoundingly enough I’ve never taken notes on before; it’s a bright triangular splash of stars, with its yellowish 7th-magnitude lucida on the N slightly P end. The triangle’s other two vertices are a 10.5-magnitude star due S of the lucida by 4.75’ and an 8th-magnitude star SF the lucida by 5.5’. From the lucida 3’ S slightly F is a reddish 8.5-magnitude star, and S of that star by 1’ is a 9.5-magnitude star. S very slightly F the lucida by 0.25’ is a 10th-magnitude star, and 0.25’ S very slightly F that star is an 11.5-magnitude star. There’s no doubt that this is a physical cluster, even though it’s in a fairly rich field. If all of those stars that I’ve named are members of the cluster, then it has a very wide range of magnitudes, from 7th magnitude down to 14th, with a large number of members in the 11th- and 12th-magnitude range; there are at least 20 of those within the confines of the triangle, most of them between the lucida and the N-S pair (the reddish one and the one that’s 1.25’ S due S of that). M103 is very well detached; there are about 60 stars visible here, including several N/NP/NF the lucida that are quite faint. S-ish of the lucida is a 2’ long arc of four that runs P slightly S-F slightly N, whose brightest star is 10.5 magnitude and is the third from P (so the second from F); the star 0.75’ to the P slightly S of that one is the second-brightest in the arc at 11.5 magnitude, and has S of it by 0.67’ another star of 12th magnitude; the 10.5-magnitude star has 0.67’ S slightly F it an 11th-magnitude star, and the four in the arc and the other two S of those form kind of a Japanese torii gate pattern. F somewhat N of the lucida by 14’ is the NP and brightest vertex of a small triangle of 8.5/9th-magnitude stars and it has S of it by 1’ the second star; from the first vertex 0.75’ F is the third (and slightly faintest) of the three in that little triangle. From the cluster lucida 4’ F somewhat N is a very small knot of faint stars, of which the majority seem to comprise a tiny line that runs roughly P-F; that knot may be 1’ in diameter and has six stars in it, of which the P-most looks like the brightest; those are all in the 14th-magnitude-plus range. The brightest star in the field is the cluster lucida; S of it by 18’ is a 7.5-magnitude star.

I should note, for no real reason at all, that my automatic transcription software rendered “Messiers” as “messy ass.”

Dan and Colleen left shortly after I finished my notes on M103; his patience in ferreting out the lensed quasar hadn’t been rewarded, but his persistence was impressive. I would’ve given up on it after half an hour.

I had somehow talked Jerry into looking at one of my favorite galaxy groups—the 1 Arietis group—in the 20″ scope. After a fine view of the galaxies, and my feet rebelling against the idea of climbing the ladder again, I went back to my scope and Cassiopeia’s other Messier object.

1:46
M52 (NGC 7654; Cas): This is M52; it’s about 12’ diameter, but perhaps not very round; it’s almost stick-figure shaped, with the head a slightly-detached clump that is N of the main body of the cluster. It’s very rich; there are at least 120 stars visible, with an overlay of fifty 10.5-magnitude to 12th-magnitude stars and many that are fainter. The lucida lies on the due P edge, and is 8th magnitude; there’s a 1.75’ stripe of nine stars right N of the center of the cluster, about 4.25’ F the lucida, and there’s a smaller group just N of that, and then the main bulk of that stripe is to the S; it’s almost like there’s a dark lane that cuts that… not in half, but cuts off the three stars on the very N end. That dark lane runs P somewhat S-F somewhat N, and spans most of the diameter of the cluster; it branches out on the F somewhat N end and is 0.75’ wide, and terminates about 2’ F the lucida; SF the lucida by 2.5’ is another dark nebula that’s about 1.67’ round, and then just P the stripe of stars, and running parallel to it, is a dark spot that’s about 0.67’ wide.  It’s the dark nebulosity that makes that stick figure so prominent; the head of the stick figure is about 4.67 NF the lucida and runs basically N-S; it’s a triangle whose P edge is about 0.25’ long; the N-most star is 12th magnitude and the S-most is 13th magnitude, and these make up the P edge of the triangle; 0.67’ SF the N-most vertex in the head is an 11th-magnitude star; and from the N-most vertex 9” S very very very slightly F is a 14.5-magnitude star. This is a very detached and obvious, very rich cluster; if the lucida is a member, it has a really large range of magnitudes.  The stick figure’s F foot is comprised of a very small triangle whose NP-most star is SF the lucida by 7.5’; that star is 10.5 magnitude. The other foot is S very slightly F the lucida by 5.5’ and is composed primarily of a 12th/12.5-magnitude pair that are separated by 0.3’, with the brighter star to the N. SF the lucida by 15’ is the brightest star in the field, which is magnitude 7.5, and from the lucida N very very very slightly P by 10’ is a 9th-magnitude star. The lucida has a yellowish or orange cast to it, but with my colorblindness it’s really hard to tell if that’s illusory or not. 

Jerry took several sets of SQM readings, in different parts of the sky; they averaged 21.4. This was a surprise, as the conditions seemed better than that. Just from my naked-eye and telescopic observations, I’d have thought it to be closer to 21.6. I’d also talked him into searching out a recent Deep-Sky Forum “Object of the Week”: Abell Galaxy Cluster ACO 3744, down in the southern reaches of Capricornus. The primary galaxies in this group all had NGC numbers (7016-7018), so I thought it might be a good test of scope and sky, to say nothing of the observers. We picked the three main galaxies out pretty easily, even catching PGC 66149 with some difficulty. This would normally be no real challenge for a 20-inch scope, but this close to the horizon, anything faint was challenging.

By this point it was almost 2 AM, and we were all thinking about wrapping things up. One more Messier object had cleared the trees above the crag. Jerry started to tear down the huge TriDob, while I went back for a final set of notes on the night.

2:02
M34 (NGC 1039; Per): M34 is going to be my last object for the night. It’s very spread out; the central portion is about 11’ N-S x 9’ P-F and is very prominently grouped into pairs. The central “core” is fairly well detached from the Milky Way; there’s this core group, and then the outliers stretch out to about 35’. There are about 75 stars in all; those may not all be cluster members, but there’s definitely a drop off in density past that 35’ boundary; assuming that’s all cluster, there’s a pretty wide range of magnitudes here. It really does fade out beyond that larger group, so I’m going to say that’s the whole cluster, and that it is both fairly well detached from the surroundings and has quite a range of magnitudes. The brightest star in the field is 7.5 magnitude; it’s S somewhat F the middle of the core group and has a string of four stars starting N very very slightly P it by about 1’ and extending P very very slightly S, then due P, and then cutting NP to terminate 3.25’ from the lucida; those are mostly 11th magnitude, although the one closest to the lucida is considerably fainter (at 12.5 magnitude). The central region of the cluster contains six basic pairs of stars; the pair at the S end of that group is the brightest at 8th and 8.5 magnitude; the 8th-magnitude star is about 8’ NP the lucida [most of the following measurements are from this star], and then the 8.5-magnitude star is 1.5’ P very very slightly N of the 8th-magnitude star; from the 8.5-magnitude star NP by 5.25’ is another 8.5-magnitude star that has a second 8.5-magnitude star NF it by 0.3’. From the 8th-magnitude star N very very slightly P by 4.75’ is a 9th-magnitude star that has a 9.5-magnitude star N somewhat P it by 0.5’, and then from the 8th-magnitude star 4.25’ N slightly F is a 9th-magnitude star that has a 9.5-magnitude star 1’ F it. From the 8th-magnitude star 10’ N is a 9.5-magnitude star that has a 10.5-magnitude star N of it by 0.75’; that star has an 11.5-magnitude star F it by 0.3’. From the 8th-magnitude star NF by 10’ is another 8th-magnitude star that has N slightly P it by 0.25’ a 10th-magnitude star; that pair is somewhat outlying from the main body of the cluster, kind of F the N end of the main body. From the lucida 34’ N slightly P is a 9th-magnitude star; there’s another 38’ N very very slightly F the lucida. From the lucida 2.75’ F is the N vertex of a small isosceles triangle whose base is the longer side and is about 1.3’ long; the two other sides are 1’ long, and the three stars in that triangle are all 11th-12th magnitude. 12’ P very very slightly S of the lucida is another 8.5-magnitude star; there’s a 9th-magnitude star 11’ F very slightly N of the lucida. Overall, this is a very clumpy cluster, everything in pairs; there are several other more-outlying pairs that I didn’t talk about, but that central group is where the majority of the bright stars are; it’s a fairly centrally-concentrated cluster with a lot of outlying space. between the lucida and the 8th- and 8.5-magnitude pair, so F that pair, is what seems like dark nebulosity, and also some NF that pair; there’s a fair amount of dark nebulosity there and in the vicinity of the lucida and therein N-ward. 

Jerry finished packing up; Mark was still taking frames of the Veil. I began my own teardown, my first in almost exactly five months. It was hard to walk straight after the punishment my foot (feet, actually; the left hurt just as much, though in different places and manner) had endured, and I had to back the Flex up to the scope so I didn’t have to carry it more than a few feet. Driving… that too was painful. The trip home was going to be pretty brutal.

But despite the cruddy mirror, the mock disparagement of my peers, the changes to my observing agenda, and the shrieking nerves in my feet, it had all been well worth it.

II. Later that day, Jerry and Kathy came over to the Australopithecus residence and helped me clean the horrifically-dirty primary mirror. This is always a nerve-wracking affair, especially when taking the mirror cell out of the scope; a moment’s carelessness can result in scratching the fragile optical surface—or far worse. It only takes one look at an “accident” thread on cloudynights.com to turn the stomach of the hardiest amateur astronomer; I’ve seen images of 20″ mirrors shattered into a hundred major pieces. The general rule of thumb has always been to clean a mirror only when it absolutely needs it, to avoid the possibility of such a tragic outcome. It was a rule that I always took to heart.

The 12.5-inch mirror at the heart of Bob the Dob; the dust and mouse trails are readily visible. The black circle above center is a target for collimating tools.

But this was just such a moment of necessity; the dust layers on the 12.5-inch mirror were actually going to prevent me from doing the observing I needed to do. So out came the mirror cell, into my kitchen sink, the heavy glass disc tilted up for the water to run over it. We gave it a good soak before even touching the surface—first with a distilled water/Dawn dish soap mix applied with cotton balls (two drops of Dawn in a bowl of water; each surgical-cotton ball only used for one pass across the mirror face), then with fingertips soaked in the same water mix, the better to feel any remaining particles on the mirror surface. Then a double rinse of distilled water, with the mirror tilted further to get the water to run almost completely off; any remaining droplets were blotted up with the corner of a KimWipe.

It wasn’t a perfect clean, largely because there were too many spots in the coating. I’d been planning for several years to have the mirror recoated, and cleaning it like this only reinforced the need to do so. The coating on Bob the Dob’s mirror was at least 23 years old, and the scope had spent thousands of hours in use, often in Midwestern humidity (in which air pollutants could adhere to the mirror surface in the dampness). It was well past the point where it could give the best possible images, and the visible coating spots were only a sign that there were other issues with the coating that we couldn’t see.

Jerry and Kathy, as usual, wanted nothing in return; I insisted that they take two of my precious cans of Kilkenny’s Irish Ale as compensation (it’s not available in the States, and we’d purchased it on our June trip to Vancouver). Getting that mirror safely cleaned and reinstalled was priceless, and giving up 1/4 of my Kilkenny’s stash was a small cost to pay.

Earlier that morning, I had done further reading about ACO 3744, the Abell Galaxy Cluster we had observed in Capricornus the previous night. As it turned out, two of the “galaxies” we’d spotted were actually double galaxies, galaxies in close interaction. So instead of seeing four galaxies in the cluster, we’d actually spotted six. Jerry was mildly intrigued by this; he wasn’t really into the faint stuff as much as I was, but it was still an impressive observation given the low declination of the cluster and the sky quality that far south.

I don’t remember if the forecast for that night was amenable for observing or not; in any event, we stayed home. (My feet were still aching from the previous night, anyway.) With several clear nights upcoming (according to ClearOutside.com), and the following night also looking good on the Clear Sky Chart, I would still soon be able to give a measured assessment of the state of the 12.5-inch mirror, and of the skies in the Valley.

What I hadn’t really counted on was the incoming new layer of smoke from the Waldo fires. Linslaw was out of the question, as the smoke was blowing that direction; even Mark wasn’t willing to risk it for more Veil data. Even though it was closer to Waldo Lake, the Eagle’s Rest amphitheater was our better bet. So although the smoke was easily visible from atop the reservoir hill near my (and Dan’s) home, we—Dan, Colleen, and Loren—decided to give it a go.

I arrived first. The sky was clearly compromised; I hesitated to set up the scope until getting a verdict from the others. So I waited there as darkness began to descend on the roadside pullout, until Dan and Colleen, and then Loren drove up.

Dan started to set up; I followed suit. Loren kicked back in a chair with a can of Coors, heckling us from the sidelines—he was going to wait until it was fully dark to assess whether to set up his 18-inch Obsession.

I had no real agenda set for the night, as we didn’t know how the transparency was going to suffer from the smoke, and with the 12.5-inch mirror cleaned, I could pursue more-difficult quarry than I had the previous time out. But the sky wasn’t going to cooperate on that front, so it was another night of Messiers—hardly a disappointment, really, given how terrible the fires were and how much smoke they were producing. (Yes, I was somewhat worried about the possibilities of ash on the mirror.)

At length, Loren decided to assemble his scope; our comments about the rather-decent (all things considered) seeing and transparency eventually wore him down. He ended up observing two of the planetary nebulae he had on his own list, and dubbed the evening a success, despite the somewhat-worsening smoke as the night went on.

For my part, I got one Messier object in before the smoke got to be too much.

08/30/22
EAGLE’S REST (amphitheatre)
SUNSET: 7:52 PM
MOON: 4 days (set at 9:35 PM; 15% illuminated)
SEEING: 6
TRANSPARENCY: 5, 4
SQM: 21.2
NELM: not checked
WEATHER CONDITIONS: temps in 80s throughout; no dew; air still; very smoky
OTHERS PRESENT: DB, Colleen, LR
All observations: 12.5″ f/5 Discovery Dob, 14mm ES 82˚ eyepiece (112x, 0.7˚ TFOV), 7mm TeleVue Nagler (225x, 0.36˚ TFOV), or 4.8mm TeleVue Nagler (323x, 0.25˚ TFOV)  unless otherwise noted

10:19
M26 (Sct): On a very smoky, subpar night; this is M26, which is overlaid by a diamond-shaped pattern that has an extension running N. The major axis of the diamond runs 2.3’ P very slightly S-F very slightly N; the minor axis runs about 1.5’. The diamond has a number of stars in and very very closely gathered around it; that N-ward extension runs N and then NF from the N-most vertex for about 2.3’, and has nine stars of 12th magnitude and fainter in it; the star at the very end of the N very slightly F end of that arc is 12th magnitude. The P-most star in the diamond is the brightest in the cluster by far (but barely the brightest in the field) at 9th magnitude; the one on the F end of the major axis is the second-brightest at magnitude 10.5; the star at the N end of the diamond is the faintest in the diamond at 11th magnitude, while the star at the S end of the minor axis is 10.5 magnitude. There are a number of stars of 13.5-14th magnitude present, many of them along that arc to the N and around the N-most vertex of the diamond; that extension has what may be some unresolved background glow along it. The SF edge of the diamond has stars streaming F-wards and SF-wards from it for a couple of arcminutes; there are a number of really faint stars there. 3.5’ SP the cluster, S of the P-most vertex in the diamond, is another clump of perhaps nine stars; that clump is 1’ across, containing four obvious brighter stars of 11.5 and fainter down to about 13.5; those make up a small trapezoid, with the long (N) side roughly parallel to the P to SP edge of the diamond, and the brightest in that clump is on the NP edge. If that clump is part of the cluster, then the whole is about 7’ N-S x 5’ P-F; it’s a fairly rich little cluster, especially the main component, with about 45 stars total; it’s pretty well detached from the background, although everything is pretty well detached here with so much in the background washed out by the smoke; NP the cluster, 11’ NP the cluster lucida, is a star of 9th magnitude that’s slightly fainter than the lucida, and N somewhat P by 3’ from that star is a 10.5-magnitude star, From the cluster lucida 12’ P somewhat S is a 10.5-magnitude star with a 12.5-magnitude star N slightly P it by 0.25’. P very very very slightly S of the lucida by 4’ is the brighter and closer of a pair that are P-F each other; the brighter of the two is 11.5 magnitude and it has a 12th-magnitude secondary F it by 0.25’.

Dan took some SQM readings; we were all curious as to the effect of the smoke on the transparency. Surprisingly, it was as high as 21.2—hard to believe that it was only 0.1 lower than our average at the amphitheater. (Jerry would note that the club’s Sky Quality Meter—which Dan and I used, passing it back and forth as needed—seemed to read 0.1 higher than his own personal SQM. I wondered if perhaps my readings over the last couple of years were too generous, or if Jerry’s SQM was too pessimistic.) Rather unsurprisingly, the SQM also indicated that temperatures were still in the 80s at this time of night. I’d put on a pair of extra socks before leaving the house, but that was all I was using for cold-weather gear. Even so, I was still sweating.

There were no other Messier clusters in prime observing position, and I wasn’t going to take notes on M16 (the Eagle Nebula) or M17 (the Swan Nebula) under sub-par conditions; faint nebulosity would be be rendered invisible from the smoke. Saturn had risen, though, and was in decent enough position, despite being low in the south and thus in the denser part of the smoky atmosphere. I was once again reduced to planetary observing. The horror; the shame.

The previous night out, I’d had my first confirmed sighting of Enceladus—I had probably seen it before without recognizing it or acknowledging it. Tonight, there were a whopping six moons of Saturn visible in the 12.5-inch scope: Rhea, Tethys, Titan, Iapetus, Mimas, and Dione. (I made note of this at 10:43 PM.) Enceladus was apparently lost in the planet’s glare; I should’ve bumped up the magnification to give it some separation from Saturn’s disk. The seeing wasn’t great, though, so there was no guarantee I’d have spotted it. In retrospect, I’m disappointed that I didn’t bother—it would’ve been nice to get that seventh moon.

Saturn’s moons during my observation. Hyperion was magnitude 14.8 at the time; this would be difficult but not impossible under normal conditions, but the smoke rendered it invisible.

 

Before we packed up, Dan, Colleen, and I did an eyepiece shootout—his 9mm Explore 100˚ versus The Precious, my 10mm Delos. I’m not sure how Dan and Colleen felt about it, but to my eye the Delos was the clear winner in terms of transmission and ergonomics. I could be biased, but….

We headed out by 11:30. For this night, I was pleased to make use of the amphitheater’s one advantage over Linslaw: the relatively-short drive home.

III. Our third night of the run took place under clearer skies, and was far more productive.

First, I had business to take care of—our trivia team (Mrs. Caveman, Cavemanette, our rugby-playing British friend, Dan B, and myself; a.k.a. The Flat Universe Society) had to defend our title for the fourth week out of five. Without Dan, though, we only managed second place, as the music category stumped us. (Dan would’ve gotten enough of them right for us to have won again.) So by 8:45 I was off to Linslaw, making the rare post-sunset drive out to the crag. I made it there and got set up before the Moon even set.

Linslaw had both the better sky and smoke forecasts, as the amphitheater was buried under a haze of burning Waldo Lake. We were expected to cloud over between 2 and 3 AM, and that’s exactly what happened; before that, though, the observing far surpassed the average seeing, transparency, and SQM ratings.

Having made some headway on the Messier objects I’d yet to take notes on, I opted to continue the project. M6 and M7 were visible but in poor position; M16 and M17 would also wait for next year so I could catch them at their best. The rest of the Sagittarius objects, though, were still well placed. The hunt was on.

09/01-09/02/22
LINSLAW POINT
SUNSET: 7:48 PM
MOON: 6 days (set at 10:23 PM; 34% illuminated)
SEEING: 6
TRANSPARENCY: 6, 1
SQM: 21.2
NELM: not checked
WEATHER CONDITIONS: temps to 58F; slight dew; air still; cool
OTHERS PRESENT: JO (12” trackball), MW
All observations: 12.5″ f/5 Discovery Dob, 14mm ES 82˚ eyepiece (112x, 0.7˚ TFOV), 7mm TeleVue Nagler (225x, 0.36˚ TFOV), or 4.8mm TeleVue Nagler (323x, 0.25˚ TFOV)  unless otherwise noted

10:31
M21 (Sgr):  M21 is a very coarse cluster and not really that well detached, maybe moderately so, and not particularly rich; it has a decent range of magnitudes, starting with the cluster lucida, which marks the vertex of the swoosh symbol that makes up the most obvious and most populous part of the cluster; that star is 7.5 magnitude, and has N somewhat P it by 0.5’ an 8.5-magnitude star; there’s another 8.5-magnitude star 1.25’ F very slightly N of the lucida, and continuing in that line—that’s a perfectly straight 2.5’ line on the F side—from that second star 0.75’ F very slightly N is a 9.5-magnitude star that has 0.5’ F very slightly N of it an 11.5-magnitude star; that makes up the “swoosh” in the center of the cluster; there’s a fair amount of unresolved glow around those, particularly around the lucida; averted vision shows a number of 14.5- and 15th-magnitude stars in that area. 1’ F somewhat S of the lucida is another 9.5-magnitude star. 2.75’ due N of the lucida is the F-most vertex of a small right triangle that also looks to be part of the cluster, and is the second-most obvious feature here; that star is 9th magnitude, and it has a 10th-magnitude star 1.25’ P it that is the right-angle vertex of that triangle; that star has N very very slightly F it by 1’ another 10th-magnitude star. From the lucida 11’ due S is an 8.5-magnitude star; there’s another 8.5-magnitude star S somewhat P by 4.5’. The whole of the cluster is about 7’ N slightly P-S slightly F x 3.5’ P-F. In the area between the swoosh and the little triangle, there are two streams of faint stars that arc like a pair of parentheses up toward the F-most vertex of the triangle, from roughly around the area around the lucida; those are all fainter stars,11th-12th magnitude, and there are nine or ten stars in the two arcs. Overall, there are about 50 stars here in the cluster. 

I had to really crane my neck to get a good view in the eyepiece, as M21 was already a bit too low to observe comfortably. The seeing came and went, so poor at times that the stars rippled visibly, as if viewed through the air above a hot desert road. Fortunately, my next target was a little higher in altitude for both my neck and my note-taking.

10:43
M23 (Sgr):
 M23 is much richer, much better detached from the background than M21; it could almost be surrounded by dark nebulosity, it’s set apart so well from the background. It also has a much narrower range of magnitudes. What looks like the cluster lucida is on the NF edge of the main body of the cluster and is 8th magnitude; the majority of the stars in the cluster (and I’d say there are no fewer than 100 here) are in the 9.5- to 11.5-magnitude range. The cluster is vaguely roundish; assuming that this whole region is the cluster, the main body of it is about 25’ in diameter, with three really interesting features to it. The middle section of the main cluster body is roughly rectangular; it runs N somewhat P-S somewhat F and is about 7’ x 3.25’; the S end of the F edge is an arc of five stars, of which the middle one is much the faintest; that arcs due N-ward gradually, starting from the F side of the rectangle and comes to the NF vertex of the rectangle, which is on the due N of the cluster’s main body; the two N vertices there are both 9.5 magnitude; the NP vertex is also the SF vertex of a little tiny “keystone of Hercules”-shaped asterism. The S somewhat F end of that rectangle is actually kind of an arc itself of four stars, and on the S edge of the cluster there’s a 7’ long arc that sweeps from its brightest star on the F end, runs P very very slightly N from there, and terminates in a little right triangle whose right-angle vertex is the faintest and F-most of the three in that triangle. The other two interesting features here are… 5.5’ due N of the rectangle’s NF vertex is a 10th-magnitude star that is the P-most in an 11’ long stream of stars that runs F very slightly N from that star and has generally fainter stars than those in the cluster; the majority of those are in the 11th- and 12th-magnitude range. And on the due NP corner of the cluster and running NP from there is a line of 11th-/12th-/12.5-magnitude stars, with a couple of 13th-/13.5-magnitude stars in there as well; there are about nine stars in that line, which runs 8’, has a gap, and then on that same line is the brightest star in the field, which is magnitude 6.5. So that is M23, and it is a much better, much more unified-looking object than M21, and kind of an underrated object in the Messier catalog.

The two “easier” Sagittarius M clusters done, I now had one I was dreading. The Small Sagittarius Star Cloud, M24, was an object of such splendor and detail that describing it all seemed impossible; I could spend the entire night on it. Looking back at it, I probably should’ve given it more than the half-hour I spent with it, and should’ve been more accurate with the time I did give it. Few objects in the sky offer more to the observer; in many ways, it’s the closest thing that Northern Hemisphere observers get to the Magellanic Clouds, satellite galaxies of the Milky Way that can only be observed from the Equator or further south.

11:02
M24, M18; NGC 6603; Collinder 469; Barnard 92, 93 (Sgr): So much to describe here I’m not going to an even remotely good job of getting through it. This is M24, the Small Sagittarius Star Cloud, and the mind is boggled at the splendor of it all. I’m starting at NGC 6603, the fainter, extremely rich open cluster that’s situated toward the NF end of the star cloud. NGC 6603 almost looks like a distant globular: it’s 5’ in diameter, tremendously rich, very obviously a cluster, well separable from the background (even one as rich as the Small Sagittarius Star Cloud). The member stars have a very narrow range of magnitudes—95% of the stars in it are of the 14th magnitude, one exception being a very obvious 13th-magnitude star on the SF edge. Like M4, this cluster has a very obvious line of stars running across its face, from NP-SF, where there is obviously a much greater concentration of stars, although the rest of the cluster is pretty evenly concentrated. This is an incredibly rich cluster, a sprinkling of stardust, kind of along the same lines as NGC 2158 in Gemini. The cluster has S of it by 4.67’ a 7.5-magnitude star; due P that star by 13’ is a 6.5-magnitude star; from the 7.5-magnitude star 9’ F very slightly S is an 8th-magnitude star; S somewhat P that star by 8’ is the brighter of a pair, which is 7th magnitude and has an 8th-magnitude star 0.3’ NF it. 14’ N very slightly F NGC 6603 is the S edge of a large complex of dark nebulosity that runs N slightly F from there for about 24’, and the N slightly F edge of that becomes a much more opaque dark nebula about 5’ in diameter. 23’ due N of NGC 6603 is another very opaque dark nebula that runs roughly P-F and is about 7’ x 3.5’-4’ at its widest; at the P end of that, it branches out into a much larger complex that is about 24’ x 6’ and consists of several clumps of varying opacity; in the S end of that complex, about 27’ N very slightly P 6603, is a 1’ knot [“the pacifier”] of very faint stars amid the nebulosity; those stars are considerably faint, with one 11.5-magnitude exception on the S end of that little group. From NGC 6603 17’ P somewhat N is another knot of stars that seems to be a cluster; it’s 2’ in diameter and has the majority of its brighter stars on the periphery. N of that little clump is another long vein of P-F dark nebulosity [Barnard 93] spanning 20’ x 7.5’, which branches S-ward and is very, very opaque. Just S of that piece of dark nebulosity—P slightly S of that last clump of stars—is another clump [Collinder 469] that’s 2.5’ in diameter and has a number of brighter (11.5-/12th-magnitude) stars on its N end; this is roughly triangular, with the long axis running N-S. From that clump 15’ P somewhat N is a solitary faint star embedded in another large, very opaque dark nebula [Barnard 92] that’s a rough ellipse spanning N-S 15’ x 9’ and is denser along the F edge. These last two really opaque dark nebulae are the so-called “Coal Miner’s Lungs.” 

God, there’s so much to talk about here…. 28’ S somewhat P NGC 6603 is the N end of a N-S line of stars that’s about 6’ long and has eleven stars in it; from its S-most star, it branches N very very slightly P in a line of five stars. 19’ S very slightly P NGC 6603 is the N-most vertex of a triangle of bright stars that has a few extra stars in it; that star is 7.5 magnitude and has a 6.5 magnitude star S very slightly P it by 6’ and an 8.5-magnitude star S very slightly F by 3.75’. That 6.5-magnitude star is itself the S-most vertex in a little right triangle, with the RA vertex N of it by 1’. The whole of the star cloud runs SP-NF for no less than 1.5˚, maybe 2°; it’s riddled with so much dark nebulosity that I’d be here all night trying to describe it. [I don’t know where this is in relation to the rest of the star cloud, as I didn’t give a starting point]: There’s a 15’ long string of 10.5-to-12th magnitude stars running almost P-F in a really graceful arc that terminates on its P end with a little knot of stars; there’s a very close (6”?) double in that knot (or pair) that are P-F to each other and are both about 11.5 magnitude; 6’ N of that pair of stars is the N end (and brightest star) of a N-S string of seven stars; that star is 9.5 magnitude, and then there’s a gap, and then 4.5’ SP from the S-most star in that line is another long (13’) line of stars composed of a bunch of little knots of stars; the star at the NF end of that is the brightest in that line and is 10.5 magnitude; from the star on the NF end of that and running P-ward is another line, so these last two form an awkward ‘V’ about 8’ long on this end (the line that runs P-F); that branches on the end and terminates with a 10.5-magnitude star that has an 11th-magnitude star N very slightly P it by 1.25’. 

Wandering through the star cloud here gives maybe the greatest feeling of being immersed in space that I’ve ever had. The S edge of the star cloud is delineated by a long, dense patch of dark nebulosity that starts from about 23’ S of NGC 6603 and stretches well over a degree, fracturing at its S end, and also has a branch that runs F-ward for some distance. 80’ N of NGC 6603 is another of what looks to be a cluster; this may actually be M18.  It’s about 7’ x 3’, with major axis running S slightly P-N slightly F, and consists of a rough ellipse of twelve stars on the N end and a smallish right triangle; the ellipse is flat on the F side, so it’s not a very good ellipse. Its brightest star is on the due P edge, and that star is 8.5 magnitude and is the lucida of this little group; F somewhat N of it by 1’ is a 9th-magnitude star; there’s another 9th-magnitude star 1’ due F that one that marks the NF edge of the ellipse; from that star 1.5’ S is a 10.5-magnitude star; from that 10.5-magnitude star 1’ S slightly P is a 10th-magnitude star, and then 0.3’ S of that star is another 10th-magnitude star; 1.3’ P from that second in the pair is another 10th-magnitude star, and from that star almost due N by 1.67’ is the lucida of this group. From the lucida here NP by 2.5’ is a 10th-magnitude star that has a 10.5-magnitude star P very slightly S of it by 1.75’, and then from the lucida S very slightly P by 3.25’ is the N-most and right-angle vertex of a triangle, which is also 10th magnitude; S slightly P that star by 1.25’ is another star of 10.5 magnitude; the third vertex is 2.3’ F slightly S of the right-angle vertex and is also 10.5 magnitude. [added] That was indeed M18; it’s very well detached and obviously a cluster, with a fair brightness range. It’s not particularly rich, but I didn’t note all of the stars; there are a number in the 11th-12th magnitude range and also in the 13th-14+ magnitude range. That little triangle on the S end has several other stars in it, especially P the short side of the triangle; the ellipse has only a few extra hiding in it.

A magnificent region. I almost feel as if I’ve seen the face of infinity.

On researching M24 more thoroughly at home, I discovered that I’d missed four actual clusters—Turner 2, 3, and 4, and Markarian 38—and several planetary nebulae within the star cloud proper. Next summer, I may have to do a more-accurate and more in-depth survey of M24 while scooping up the remaining quartet of Messiers in the region.

I almost missed one as it was; M25 nearly escaped my notice as I was preparing to head up into Cygnus. Fortunately, it was still in decent position.

11:36
M25 (Sgr): I missed M25 as I was starting to head up to M29 in Cygnus, but remembered it at the last minute. This is another cluster in the Sagittarius Milky Way that’s surrounded by what looks like dark nebulosity, so the cluster is standing out well from the surroundings. It’s pretty well detached, with a wide range of magnitudes; if all of these are cluster members, then it’s moderately rich, with about 80 members. Within this kind of ring of dark nebulosity, the stars cover an area 30’ across, operating under the assumption that this is all part of the cluster; there are a number of really bright stars here. It’s fairly concentrated toward the center, with the densest part housed within a triangle of which the SF vertex is just barely the brightest in the field at 6.5 magnitude; it has a 7.5-magnitude star due F it by 4.75’. From the lucida 13’ due NF is a 7th-magnitude star that has a 9.5-magnitude star 1.25’ P very slightly S of it; 16’ NP the lucida NP is another 7th-magnitude star; from the lucida SF by 14’ is a 9th-magnitude star. [I don’t totally trust these magnitude estimates due to the seeing and probable atmospheric extinction.] From the lucida 4.75’ P somewhat N is an 8th-magnitude star that is the N-most point in the rich part of the cluster, and then from that star SP by 5.25’ is another of 8th magnitude, and that star has a 9.5-magnitude star 1’ F slightly N of it. Between the lucida and that N-most star in that group is a very obvious pattern, almost like a little mantle-clock shape; the base of it runs P somewhat N-F somewhat S, and it has a loop on the N side of that line that kind of provides the “clock face”; the base has three stars toward the N end, of which the second is the brightest at 9th magnitude; that one has P somewhat N of it by 0.5’ a 9.5-magnitude star and a 10.5-magnitude star SF it. From the lucida 1’ P very very slightly S is the star on the S end of the base of that little clock asterism; that star is 9th magnitude and has a 10.5-magnitude star N of it by 0.75’; the 10.5-magnitude star has another of 10.5 magnitude P somewhat N of it by 0.67’; that star has due P it by 0.3’ a 9.5-magnitude star, and then S very slightly P that last star is the 9th-magnitude star in the N end of the clock-face asterism. From the cluster lucida 2.75’ S very slightly P is the brightest star in a 4.3’ P-F line; that star is the second one from the F end and is 9th magnitude. Due P that star by 1.5’ is the N and brighter of a pair of 9th- and 10.5-magnitude stars, separated N-S by 12”. SP that line, about 9’ SP the lucida, is a trapezoid whose short end is to the S and whose long end is to the N; the long end is about 3.25’; the NP vertex of that trapezoid is 9th magnitude and is 9’ SP the lucida; that star is also the S-most vertex of the cluster’s primary triangle pattern; the trapezoid has within it, toward the P side, a S very slightly P-N slightly F line of three 10th- and 11th-magnitude stars; that line is 1’ long and its middle star is F very slightly S of the 9th-magnitude star by 1’.

I made note that the seeing had deteriorated appreciably since I’d started observing, and it was especially bad at the lower altitudes. Fortunately, my next (and last) Messier objects were considerably higher in the sky. Unfortunately, they’d require standing in order to observe them; I had to lean on my cane in order to balance while peering into the scope.

12:38
M29 (Cyg): It’s been a while since I stopped by M29, one of the starker Messier clusters but not without charm. The cluster essentially consists of two arcs that bow together in the middle, creating the “cooling tower” shape that earned the cluster its nickname. The P arc is composed of three bright stars; the F arc consists of five. Starting from the SP we have a 9.5-magnitude star; 1.25’ due N of that star is an 11.5-magnitude star; 1’ P slightly N of the 11.5-magnitude star is an 8.5-magnitude star; P slightly N that star by 0.67’ is a 12th-magnitude star; from the 12th-magnitude star due P by 0.67’ is a 9th-magnitude star, and from that star N by 1.25’ is a 11.5-magnitude star. Proceeding to the F arc, from the star on the SP: F somewhat N by 2.75’ is a 9th-magnitude star; from that star N somewhat P by 1.67’ is another of 9th magnitude; from that star N very slightly P by 1’ is a 10.5-magnitude star; from that star F very slightly N by 1’ is a 9th-magnitude star, and from that 9th-magnitude star NP by 1.75’ is a 10.5-magnitude star. M29 is fairly detached; I think it’s pretty obvious it’s a cluster, even in the starry Cygnus fields. There are some fainter stars present in the cluster, namely several in the 12th- and 13th-magnitude range in between the two arcs. Overall, the cluster is maybe 5.75’ round, with 25 total members—not one of the richer clusters, but worth a look every now and then. 

There were definite traces of cloud rolling through by now, visible to the eye down low along the western and southern horizons, but still seen only as distortions in the seeing as they passed overhead. The CSC was again right on the money; by the time 2 AM rolled around, we’d be clouded out. For me, it would be just about right on time—the only Messiers I’d have left later in the sky would be M74 and M77, and they would take a couple more hours before they were in any position for me to take acceptable notes on them. Time, then, to finish up for the night.

1:00
M39 (Cyg): M39 is one of the toughest to identify of all of the Messier star clusters, and it took a lot of comparing with the photograph to make sure that I had it, because it could otherwise be just a random collection of bright stars up there in Cygnus. There are a lot of 6.5-/7th-magnitude stars here, all the way down to 13th or 14th magnitude, but it remains uncertain if those are all cluster members. The cluster is roughly triangular and most of it fits well within the 42’ field of the 14mm ES eyepiece, so that’s a pretty good size estimate for the cluster, 42’. The bottom edge of the triangle runs roughly P-F; the F end of it—the SF vertex of the triangle—is the brightest star in the field at magnitude 6.5; P it by 9’ is an 8.5-magnitude star that is the F end of a shallow arc of three that’s actually P very very slightly N of the lucida; 2.5’ P very very slightly S from that 8.5-magnitude star is a 9th-magnitude star; there’s a 9.5 magnitude star 1.5’ P that star, and those three comprise the arc. And then 5.25’ P from the P-most in the arc is an 8th-magnitude star; P that star by 11’ is a 7.5-magnitude star which is the SP vertex of the triangle. From the lucida 27’ N somewhat P is the N-most vertex of the triangle, which is 8.5 magnitude, and 27’ S somewhat P from that star is the SP vertex of the triangle. the most obvious feature in the cluster is the pair at the middle of the triangle; 18’ P somewhat N from the lucida is the brighter of that pair, which is 7.5 magnitude; the second in the pair is F very slightly S of it by 0.75’ and is 9th magnitude. From the brighter of that pair 6’ due N is a 7th-magnitude star, and from the brighter of the pair 6’ N somewhat F is an 8th-magnitude star; from the brighter of the pair 6’ F very slightly S is another 6.5-magnitude star that has a 10th-magnitude star 1.5’ S slightly F and a 9th-magnitude star F somewhat N of it by 5’. From the N-most vertex 4.75’ S very slightly F is an 8th-magnitude star. From the SP vertex of the triangle 14’ F somewhat S is an 8th-magnitude star that’s the N-most in a N-S line of five, of which the three at the S end are very faint and form a tiny triangle themselves; 0.75’ S of that 8th-magnitude star is a 10th-magnitude star, and the N-most vertex of that little triangle is S of that star by 0.5’ and is 12th magnitude; the other two in that little triangle are 13th magnitude. That accounts for all of the brighter members of the cluster; there are several others in the 10.5-magnitude and slightly-fainter range—about 40-50 stars scattered over the area, but it’s hard to tell if the fainter ones are cluster members. It’s a fairly sparse cluster and not at all well detached; there’s so much around it that only the brightnesses of the stars gives a real indication that it might be a unified, coherent entity versus being just a scattered starfield of bright stars. 

I spent a bit of time on some of the Messier objects I’d already long since observed: M30, M2, M15. By the time I was done with those, clouds had swallowed up much of the sky. Mark and Jerry had already started stowing their gear; I took their lead, hampered by my troublesome feet and appreciative of their offers to help. My circus, my elephants, so to speak; I needed to be able to handle the chore of teardown on my own.

By the time I got home, the stars were completely buried in the sky muck. But it had been a fantastic night, regardless of the mediocre-to-useless conditions: notes on seven Messiers, and the riches of the Small Sagittarius Star Cloud burned into my caveman brain.

IV. The next night was our monthly public observing session, a.k.a. “First Quarter Friday.” Or it would have been, if clouds hadn’t made a mess of it. We did our best for an hour before even the sucker holes vanished in a welter of thick stratocumulus clouds.

Normally, when First Quarter Friday is clouded or rained out, we considered the next night to be a rain date. But this time, no-one was available to cover the Saturday night; Dan was out of town, Jerry had other obligations, and the other usual suspects had their own obligations. Which was fine by me–the forecast at Linslaw was spectacular.

Only Robert and Mark were interested in a trip out, surprisingly. But the vehicle that came down the gravel road toward me as I started the climb up the mountainside was neither of them; this one had hunting lights all over it, and they were blazing, even though sunset was still twenty minutes away. They didn’t yield, either—cars coming down hills were, by state law, supposed to yield to those heading up. I had to pull over to let them past or they would’ve run me off the road. This was potential trouble, made all the more real by the fact that they turned around to follow me.

I drove faster the rest of the way up than I had before, hoping to lose them on the way up; only on the final, steep climb did I let the gas off. Mark was at the top, already getting his astrophotography rig calibrated. As I started to unload my gear, I told him about the truck that had been following me, although it seemed as though I’d lost them.

A few minutes later, another vehicle came up the mountain. Robert? No, it was the truck that’d followed me. How they knew that particular side road was the one I had taken, I still don’t know.

The driver and his passenger checked out Mark, our gear, and I for a moment.

“Hey,” the driver said. “Does this road go through?”

“It’s a dead end,” I said, motioning around the crag.

“Oh. All right, then–we’ll just turn around.”

They knew that it was a dead end, I’m sure of it. They’d been there before; whether or not they were responsible for the piles of spent AR-15 and 9mm casings that usually littered the site I didn’t know, but these guys absolutely knew that the road didn’t go through from atop the crag. They were checking out what we were doing because it was somehow a threat to their own activities… which I’m certain were illegal.

Whatever the case, they did indeed turn around. I went back to setting up, half-expecting our unwanted visitors to return.

A few more minutes went by, and another vehicle came up the hill. This one was Robert’s, though, so at least our numbers were better. Robert’s wife Tiffany was with him, for the first time in quite a while.

As darkness fell, it was clear that the forecast wasn’t wrong—the sky was glorious. Even past its prime, the Milky Way glittered from horizon to (I assume) horizon, from the spout of Sagittarius’ teapot through Cassiopeia, just above the crag; Perseus sparkled through the conifers that dotted the top of the sandstone crag. Arcturus, low in the west, still shone steadily. The Summer Triangle stars gleamed almost planet-like and unwavering. The Moon, even at First Quarter, seemed isolated from the rest of the sky, its light-scatter held to a minimal radius by an atmosphere blown clear of the recent smoke and clouds. Perhaps the wind was coming from the east—even the damp ocean air seemed absent.

With moonlight still a factor, but not wanting to waste any of the night, I poked through the Astronomical League’s open cluster list for a bright target that could withstand the Moon’s presence. It didn’t take long to find one.

09/03-09/04/22
LINSLAW POINT
SUNSET: 7:45 PM
MOON: 24 days (set at 11:36 PM; 57% illuminated)
SEEING: 8
TRANSPARENCY: 7, 8
SQM: 21.4 (seemed more like 21.6 or better)
NELM: not checked
WEATHER CONDITIONS: temps to 55F; slight dew; some breeze
OTHERS PRESENT: MW, RA, Tiffany
All observations: 12.5″ f/5 Discovery Dob, 14mm ES 82˚ eyepiece (112x, 0.7˚ TFOV), 7mm TeleVue Nagler (225x, 0.36˚ TFOV), or 4.8mm TeleVue Nagler (323x, 0.25˚ TFOV) unless otherwise noted

10:15
NGC 7063 (Cyg): Due to the continued presence of the Moon in the sky, I’m starting tonight with NGC 7063 in Cygnus, a bright, coarse open cluster that is not really that well detached from much of the background; there’s an asterism off to the NF that’s slightly bigger than 7063 that could just as easily be another cluster. But NGC 7063 has an 8’ major axis that’s oriented NP-SF and a 4.5’ SP-NF minor axis; it’s roughly rectangular. There are about 25 stars in that region, many of them between 8.5 and 10th magnitude; there are also quite a few much-brighter stars around the area, including a 6th-magnitude bluish-white star [69 Cygni] NF the cluster by about 20’; in fact, that is the brightest star in the field. The middle part of the cluster, almost directly across the middle of the cluster, is the richest part of it; there’s a line of stars that extends roughly N-S, and that is the most distinctive feature here. The P side of the cluster, which runs NP-SF, is a fairly complete line; there are ten visible stars along that side; there’s also (off the SF vertex of that line, S and SF that), a wedge pattern pointing to the S that I suspect is probably not part of the cluster, but consists mostly of fainter background stars. The F-most vertex of the cluster’s rectangle is the brightest star in the cluster, the lucida, at 9th magnitude, and is slightly reddish-looking to my caveman retinas. SF that star by 3.3’ is a 10.5-magnitude star. From the lucida 1.3’ N somewhat P is a tight double or close pair whose components are 11th and 12.5 magnitude; the primary is 10” P somewhat S of the secondary. And then from the lucida 3’ P slightly N is a 9.5-magnitude star; there’s another 9.5-magnitude star P slightly N of that one by 2.25’; from the first of those 9.5-magnitude stars—the one more toward the middle of the cluster—F very very very slightly S by 0.67’ is a 12th-magnitude star with a 13.5-magnitude star N of it by 0.25’, and from that 9.5-magnitude star S by 1.25’ is the brighter of another pair or double, which is 11th magnitude and has N slightly F it by 12” a 12.5-magnitude star. P the lucida we have the first of the 9.5-magnitude stars, and then P that star we have the second; from that second 9.5-magnitude star P slightly N by 3.25’ is an 11th-magnitude star, and 2’ NF that same 9.5-magnitude star is an 11.5-magnitude star that has an 10.5-magnitude star S very very slightly P it by 0.5’; then from the 11.5-magnitude star 1’ N very very slightly F is a 10th-magnitude star, and from that star P very very slightly N by 1.25’ is another 10th-magnitude star. From the cluster lucida 7.5’ is another star of nearly equal brightness.

One observation in, and my feet were already pissed off with all the standing.

My agenda for the night—such as it was—included mostly the Herschel “remainders,” those objects (almost all of them galaxies) that William Herschel had discovered but didn’t make the cut for the Herschel 400/Herschel II lists. Most of these were relatively feeble, though, and required some sorting through; having observed a few of these remainders, I was inclined to use the 20-inch Obsession on them for the sake of perhaps eking out any possible details. The 12.5-inch scope just wasn’t quite enough aperture for the job… or at least, for making most of these objects interesting. Most were small and faint, and were certainly not suitable quarry for Bob the Dob with the Moon wrecking the view.

I took some time to observe Saturn again, making sure not to mention it to anyone else in hopes of avoiding the ridicule. The planet’s four brighter moons—Tethys, Dione, Rhea, and Titan—stretched out in a line, trailing away from the planet’s northern pole; 13th-magnitude Mimas was barely visible, nestled in the crook of the rings and the planet’s disk.

I also spent some time with Robert’s remarkable binocular telescopes, the 80mm “Heart” and the 50mm “Magic.” These were not merely homemade binoculars; they were essentially dual-mounted telescopes, using standard 1.25″ telescope eyepieces and nebula filters. In a sense, not was like having a TeleVue Pronto for each eye. Large-scale nebulae like the North America/Pelican Nebula complex, the Veil, and the Heart & Soul Nebulae jumped straight out of the eyepieces, unmistakable against the inky background. The Cocoon Nebula fluoresced like the head of a comet in a tail of pure blackness, the dust lane from which the nebula erupted. Large open clusters like the Double Cluster lay foregrounded against a rich glow of millions of unresolved stars. This was how to observe objects like the Small Sagittarius Star Cloud!

Eventually, the Moon sank below the western horizon, and it was time for faint galaxy-light—observing at vast distances beyond our own galaxy’s nebulae and star clusters.

12:14
NGC 7391 (Aqr): The first galaxy of the season for me, NGC 7391 in Aquarius, F the Water Jar. I’ve looked at a couple of these remaining Herschel galaxies here and don’t think the 12.5-inch does them justice, but this one is an elliptical, so I don’t think that it’s gonna show that much more than I get here. this is maybe 0.67’ diameter, with a dim halo, a sudden, bright core, and a quasi-stellar nucleus that flashes out at good moments of seeing and transparency. The field has a number of bright stars in it, which is fairly distracting; about 1’ N of the galaxy is a particularly-annoying 12.5-magnitude star, and from that star F slightly N by 1.75’ is a difficult 14th-magnitude star. From the galaxy 8.5’ NP is a 9.5-magnitude star; there’s a 9th-magnitude star NF the galaxy by 10’. SF the galaxy by 12’ is another 9.5-magnitude star; there’s a 10th-magnitude star 13’ S slightly F the galaxy. The brightest star in the field is about 22’ SF the galaxy—just on the edge of the field—and that star is 8th magnitude; it has a 9.5-magnitude star S very slightly P it by 6.25’ and a 13th-magnitude star 1.25’ NF it; in fact, that 8th-magnitude star is a double, with a 12.5-magnitude star F somewhat S of it by 5”. I thought for a moment I saw another galaxy near that double, but I can’t isolate it (if it was even there). 

12:28
NGC 7458 (Psc): Another in a long line of very small galaxies in the Herschel catalogue, this is NGC 7458, in Pisces; my admiration for WH just increases every time I see how difficult some of these little bastards are. The galaxy is 6.5’ S slightly P a 9th-magnitude star, and that star is the brightest and NF vertex of a small isosceles triangle whose two equal sides are to the N and the F and the long side to the SP; the other two vertices are 12th magnitude (the P one maybe a little brighter than the other) and those are 2’ P very slightly S and 2’ S of the 9th-magnitude star. The galaxy is quite small; it’s 0.75’ x 0.5’, and is elongated S very slightly P-N very slightly F. It doesn’t have much in the way of a halo, but does have a brightish elongated core; I’m not really getting a nucleus at this magnification… maybe in averted vision? What there is of the halo is pretty well defined. P slightly N of the galaxy by 10’ is a 9.5-magnitude star, and then F slightly S of the galaxy by 16’ is an 11th-magnitude star; on roughly the same line, 6.5’ F slightly S of the galaxy along that same line, is a 12th-magnitude star. Even in the 7mm Nagler, I’m not convinced there’s a nucleus in this galaxy; there’s a threshold star, however, F very very slightly S of the galaxy by 1.25’, and then 3’ F the galaxy is a 14th-magnitude star. The extra magnification really makes the core of the galaxy stand out.

I was still rusty at this, missing PGC 70289, just to the following (east) side of NGC 7458.

The Pleiades had crested the crag; Robert beckoned me over for a look. I’d seen the Pleiades a hundred times in binoculars—they were the first object I’d ever looked at with binoculars as a kid, having pilfered my father’s 7 x 35 Korean War-era bios from the closet at home upon seeing the cluster mentioned in Carl Sagan’s Cosmos. But I hadn’t ever seen them like this: in the “Magic” binoculars, the stars of the cluster seemed suspended in the foreground, the trees of the crag pushed well into the background. After thousands of hours of astronomical observing, I was still capable of being astonished.

12:41
NGC 7311 (Peg):
 Up into Pegasus now, with NGC 7311, which lies between the Water Jar of Aquarius and the Great Square. This little galaxy is not overly impressive; it’s about 0.75’ x 0.3’ and elongated N very very slightly F-S very very slightly P. It has a pretty obvious stellar nucleus, and a smallish brighter core; the halo is pretty well defined. 5.5’ N very very slightly F the galaxy is a 10.5-magnitude star that’s the F-most vertex in a small isosceles triangle; it has a 13.5-magnitude star 1.75’ NP it and a 13th-magnitude star P very very slightly N of it by 0.75’; the third vertex of the triangle is 3’ P very slightly S of the 10.5-magnitude star and is 13.5 magnitude. S very very slightly P the 10.5-magnitude vertex in that little triangle by 2’ is a 14th-magnitude star. The brightest star in the field is F the galaxy by 14’; that star is 9th magnitude and is the N-most vertex in a backwards lowercase Y-shaped pattern, and that star is at the “bottom” of the stem; 8.5’ SP it is a 10th-magnitude star that has 1.5’ S slightly F a pair of 14.5-magnitude stars, separated N very very slightly P-S very very slightly F to each other by 0.3’; the 10th-magnitude star marks the middle of the Y, and it has 6’ S of it an 11th-magnitude star, and also has 7’ P very slightly S of it an 11th-magnitude star that has a 13.5-magnitude star 0.75’ F very slightly N of it. I’m going to switch to the 7mm, as I think there’s detail yet to be seen on this galaxy… In the 7mm, it has an extended core that may not be totally uniformly bright, almost like there’s a dark slash running just S of the nucleus; it seems to cut the core in two.

Again, my rust showed: I missed NGC 7312, 16’ N slightly F 7311. In looking at the Palomar plates, the “dark slash” I noted doesn’t seem to exist, either; the galaxy looks extremely normal. I’ll need to observe this one with the 20-inch Obsession to see if I can figure out what it was that I’d seen there.

Robert and Tiffany left around this point; I hoped our truck-driving stalkers wouldn’t return now that our numerical advantage was gone.

1:11
NGC 7515 (Peg):
 NGC 7515 is also in Pegasus, up towards Markab, kind of between Markab and the Circlet of Pisces. This is a more-diffuse galaxy than the majority of those that I’ve done tonight: it’s roundish, with a slight bit of N-S elongation; it’s about 1’ x 0.75’, so larger than the few that I’ve done so far. It’s also much more broadly-concentrated than the others; this looks more like a face-on spiral than, say, an elliptical. It has a broader, gradual, slightly-brighter core and a substellar nucleus; I was thinking that might be a tiny sudden core amid a gradually-brightening halo, but I do think that’s a substellar nucleus there. This is kind of an interesting little specimen. It has 8’ S very slightly F it the N of a pair of 9th-magnitude stars, separated by 0.5’ N very slightly P-S very slightly F to each other. N somewhat F the galaxy by 11’ is an 11th-magnitude star, and there’s a 10.5-magnitude star F slightly N of the galaxy by 8.5’; that star is the right-angle vertex of a small triangle, which has 1.67’ P very slightly N of it a 12.5-magnitude star and a 13th-magnitude star N very slightly F by 2’. The galaxy has a 14th-magnitude star SP it by 2’ and another 14th-magnitude star S somewhat F it by 3’. In the 7mm, the halo of the galaxy appears irregular in shape and/or brightness. This is one of the better “Herschel remainder” galaxies that I’ve done in a while; there just seems to be some real detail to be had. This would be another good one to follow up on with the 20” scope.

I observed a few more of these galaxies, trying to find some that seemed like suitable targets for the 12.5-inch. Most of them just seemed so feeble that it was almost unfair to not give them their due with the larger aperture. I also took cursory looks at NGC 1 and NGC 2, both of which also needed the greater aperture of the Obsession. Fortunately, I had a couple of changeups on my observing list, one of which was just due to reach the meridian. But first, I stopped by WLM, the Wolf-Lundmark-Melotte galaxy at the “prow” of Cetus, and IC 1613, another dwarf galaxy just to the northeast of WLM. Both galaxies were large, difficult, dim smudges that were nonetheless members of the Milky Way’s Local Group of galaxies, our own inter-galactic “neighborhood.” I’d see both before in the 12.5-inch scope, and taken notes on WLM, but I would use the 20-inch the next time I planned to take notes on them.

But on to an odd one…

2:00
Blanco 1 (Scl): A really unusual one; I’m doing it not necessarily because it’s on any list, but because it’s there: the very large, very sprawling open cluster Blanco 1 in Sculptor, which is a very poor cluster over a degree across. There’s really not much in there at all, especially considering its size. It doesn’t look much like a cluster, even; it’s more just a very slightly denser part of the background here in Sculptor. Starting over on the NP side, there is a 5th-magnitude star [Zeta Scl] which is whitish-blue and is the cluster lucida; 4.67’ S of it is the S-most vertex of a nearly-equilateral triangle; that vertex is 10.5 magnitude and has 1.67’ F somewhat N of it an 11.5-magnitude star; from the 10.5-magnitude star 2’ N very very very slightly P is another 11.5-magnitude star. From the lucida 2.3’ NP is a 12th-magnitude star; F the lucida by 16’ is a pair of 10th-magnitude stars, separated N very very very slightly P-S very very very slightly F each other by 1’; there’s another pair, 10.5- and 11th-magnitude stars, 15’ F slightly S of the lucida, and those are also separated by 1’, and are oriented P somewhat S-F somewhat N to each other, with the brighter to the F somewhat N. From the lucida 37’ NF is a 6.5-magnitude star that has a 7.5-magnitude star S very slightly F it by 7’; 35’ SF from the lucida is a 7th-magnitude star that’s in the middle of a longer chain that runs NP-SF; that whole chain is about 40’ long; that 7th-magnitude star is seventh from NP (counting the pair at the very NP end of that as separate stars); there’s a pair of 12th-magnitude stars in the middle of that chain; continuing SF after that pair, there are six more stars, and the chain terminates in a pair separated N slightly F-S slightly P to each other by 2’; the more-S of those is the brighter at 8th magnitude, with the more-N being 9th magnitude. That covers the majority of the bright stars in Blanco 1; there are no more than 50 stars in this area; it’s not very well detached, and there is a fair amount of brightness range among the member stars: a number of single-digit magnitudes (from 5th to 9th), but not a huge number of fainter stars of 11th magnitude and fainter. 

I’m not sure why Blanco 1 appealed to me; maybe, like the smaller open cluster NGC 7826 in Cetus, its appeal was that it was so out of place in the autumn sky near the South Galactic Pole. The cluster wasn’t much to look at, but it was still satisfying to actually observe it. And it was nice to be off my feet, as they were both causing a lot of pain (though for different reasons).

Uranus was high enough now for a good view. Having had beautiful, steady views of Saturn, Jupiter, and Neptune already, I decided to add the seventh planet to the roster. The planet’s greenish disk was easy enough to pick out of the starfield; it was just about at naked-eye visibility anyway, and nothing in the area was as bright. But I had a glimpse, at 112x, of a fleck of light several planet-diameters away at about 2 o’clock… an impression that had me scrambling for the 7mm Nagler.

At 225x, that impression had solidified. There, right outside one of the bright diffraction spikes visible in the eyepiece, was one of the moons of Uranus. No… two moons.

I reached for Sky Safari, surprisingly hopeful that what I was seeing was true, that these weren’t filed stars or illusions. I’d never seen any of Uranus’ moons in one of my own scopes—I’d seen Neptune’s moon Triton several times, and I’d seen a couple of Uranus’ moons in Jerry’s 20-inch scope, but never in my own, and never in one of this aperture class. But they were real, here. I called Mark over for a look, and he acknowledged seeing them as well. It was difficult to tell from Sky Safari (I had forgotten to refresh the time on the app and didn’t do so until later, so the field didn’t totally match), but it seems we were looking at Titania and Oberon, huddled up by the diffraction spike. Maybe they others would make a planetary observer out of me yet….

My last two objects for note-taking on the night were the last autumn Messiers I needed: M74 in Pisces and M77 in Cetus. I did take a brief detour up to the NGC 383 group, in the end of the northern fish of Pisces, up at the Andromeda border. I plan at some point to sketch the NGC 383 group, but now was not that time. Now was time for the most-difficult of the Messiers.

2:48 
M74 (Psc): This is toughest of the Messier objects by most estimations (including mine): M74 in Pisces. The galaxy is framed within a couple of pairs of stars, one to the F, one to the P. It’s very diffuse, as befits its reputation; the halo is 7.0’ across, roundish, with a small, brighter core that’s about 0.67’ across; I don’t see a nucleus… perhaps what I’m seeing is a larger nucleus, and the core is largely subtle and/or absent? This is a very, very ghostly galaxy; they’re debating on CloudyNights whether or not to call it the Phantom Galaxy. I’m always nostalgic for Messier’s note about its visibility (“…one can make it out with more certainty in fine, frosty conditions.”). It’s moderately well defined, even given how diffuse the halo is, and the halo is considerably irregularly bright; it seems as if, on the SF and up toward those two stars on the F, there’s a gap in the halo; there’s a sharper cutoff there like an intrusion; I don’t see any on the corresponding opposite side, but there’s a suggestion of spirality there. The F side of the halo is definitely more tenuous. The more-S of the two stars on the F side is due F the nucleus (or where the nucleus would be) by 3.75’; that star is 13th magnitude, and there’s an 12.5-magnitude star N of it by 1.3’, and from that star 2’ P very slightly N is a 14th-magnitude star; from that 14th-magnitude star P very very slightly N by 1.75’ is a 14.5-magnitude star. From the center of the galaxy SP by 3’ is a 13th-magnitude star; that star has a 14th-magnitude star NP it by 1.75’; from that star 2.25’ P somewhat S is a 13th-magnitude star that has 1.25’ P very slightly S of it a 13.5-magnitude star, and the 13.5-magnitude star has 2’ N of it what looks like a clump of stars, with the brightest on the S point of it, and that is about 0.3’ diameter (there may only be two other stars in that, but they’re considerably faint). From the center of the galaxy P very slightly S by 11’ is the brighter of a pair of 12th-/13th-magnitude stars, with the 13th-magnitude star 1.25’ F somewhat S of the brighter one. 12’ N slightly P the galaxy is a 10.5-magnitude star that’s the second from F in a 14’ line of four that extends P very very slightly N-F very very slightly S. Extra magnification isn’t theoretically ideal on a low surface brightness object like this one, but I’m going to throw the 7mm Nagler in here anyway, against my best judgment; I’d really like to bring out that intrusion if possible. OK… this is not a better target for higher magnification, at least this high… but there seems to be, on the NP edge of the galaxy, a little greater definition of the halo there. At this magnification, the galaxy is definitely irregularly bright; it has a suggestion of knottiness and mottling to it. That little knot of stars, the one to the P of the galaxy, only has two more in it; there’s definitely a faint close pair there.

I gave an enormous yawn during the recording; it was pretty embarrassing to hear when transcribing my notes.

By now it was after 3 AM, and my feet and consciousness were both telling me it was time to start winding the night down. One last object to end the dark cycle on; one last Messier before the winter constellations took over the starry tableau.

3:09
M77 (Cet): M77 has always seemed to me to be one of the brighter of the non-Virgo/Coma Messier galaxies, and I don’t understand this reasoning behind saying it’s faint when it really isn’t at all; I know that what we see in “normal” amateur scopes is primarily the central part, and the spiral arms extend a long ways out from there. The visible part spans 3.0’ x 2.3’ and is elongated N very very slightly F-S very very slightly P. It has a very well-defined, almost blazing core that is fairly suddenly arrived-at, and a bright substellar nucleus as well. 1.5’ F very very slightly S [I hope that’s my stomach rumbling] is an 11th-magnitude star; due F the galaxy by 4.75’ is a 12th-magnitude star. 4’ N very slightly F the galaxy is a 13th-magnitude star. P somewhat N of the galaxy by 10’ is an 11.5-magnitude star; there’s a slightly-distracting 14th-magnitude pair N somewhat P the galaxy by 8’, and those are oriented P-F to each other and separated by 0.5’. N somewhat F the galaxy by 11’ is a 9th-magnitude star that is the P-most in a line of three; 1.25’ F very very slightly S of it is a 12th-magnitude star, and 1.75’ F somewhat S of that star is an 11.5-magnitude star. From the galaxy S very very slightly P by 6.5’ is a 12th-magnitude star that has a 12.5-magnitude star F very very slightly N of it by 2’. That’s quite enough of the field stars, so we’ll throw the 7mm on there. At this magnification, there’s a hint that, from the F and running N, there may be a spiral arm beginning on the outer edge of the halo and running N; there also seems to be a very small dark intrusion into the halo from the SP, and the core seems to be irregularly bright.  At moments it seems as if there’s like a dark nebula on the P side of the galaxy—it just cuts the light off there, but I know that’s not the case; there are also moments that the halo appears a little grainy. 

I thought briefly about swinging the scope over to M42, the Great Orion Nebula, but avoided the temptation; doing so would no doubt result in me staying for another hour, looking for all the winter showpieces. Better, then, to keep my fingers crossed that we would get some clear nights over the next several months, when I could give those treasures of the winter sky their full due. For now, it was time to cover and disassemble the scope, to get my gear stowed, and to put my aching feet to the task of driving home.

In some ways, I’d returned home already, and it felt as if I’d never left.

Setting Sages Questioning

Wild’s Triplet, Arp 248. Image is 30′ x 30′. Courtesy POSS-II.

[Note: this entry has been edited to include the second observation, which was inexplicably left out in the previous version.]

Two more observations before surgery; two more before unusually-relentless rains wiped out May and part of June.

April had already proven difficult, weather-wise. Where we usually had several days of clear Moonless skies during the month, we’d only had one day early in the month, and now only two toward the end. With a week before I had my foot cut open and three months of rehab afterward, I had no hesitation getting out when a halfway-decent forecast finally presented itself. Nor did most of the others, really—having been cooped up by the rain, the Irregulars were champing at the bit. And so we made the 45-minute pilgrimage out west toward the sandstone Linslaw crag, in pursuit of individual agendas but a singular goal: the capture of ancient starlight.

With the 20-inch Obsession and new ladder in tow, and galaxy season well underway, it was time for another round of chasing down flat galaxies. By the time I was healed up, it would be time for the flat galaxies of autumn, of which I had barely scratched the surface.

As darkness overtook daylight, our first actual target for the night was SN2022hrs, the brilliant supernova in NGC 4647 (the companion galaxy to Messier 60). This was one of the brightest extragalactic supernovae I’d ever observed, reaching better than 12th magnitude in our estimation [although officially only 12.3 at its peak]. EAS members would end up tracking this supernova all the way into July. Five scopes lingered on the supernova; Robert even viewed it in his 50mm binocular scope (“Magic”).

Two hours after sunset, it was time for note-taking and more-structured observing. I started with an object that I had previously seen from Eureka Ridge in the 12.5-inch scope, but which really deserved notes made through the Obsession.

4/22-4/23/23
LINSLAW POINT
SUNSET: 8:05 PM
MOON: 23 days (rose at 3:15 AM; 46% illuminated)

SEEING: 7
TRANSPARENCY: 7
SQM: 21.60
NELM: not checked
WEATHER CONDITIONS: temps to low 40s; humid with slight dew; air still; chilly
OTHERS PRESENT: JO, DB, LR, RA
All observations: 20″ f/5 Obsession Dob, 14mm ES 82˚ eyepiece (181x, 0.45˚ TFOV) or 7mm TeleVue Nagler (363x, 0.21˚ TFOV) unless otherwise noted

10:23
NGC 3044 (Sex): First for the night—probably the last night until September—is NGC 3044 in Sextans. I’ve seen this one before; I first got it in the 12.5-inch scope and made a note to come back to it because I was so impressed with it then. This is a huge, very underrated edge-on/flat galaxy, elongated 100° PA. It’s an irregularly-bright galaxy with no central brightening (or widening, for that matter), and there’s no real hint of a nucleus here. The galaxy is not razor thin; it’s 4.25’ x 0.4’. It seems as if the SF end is the brighter end; both of the ends fade out gradually, but the NP end is stretched out a little longer and more diffusely than the SF. 1’ N of the NP end of the galaxy is a 14.5-magnitude star. 6’ NP the galaxy is a 12th-magnitude star with a 13.5-magnitude star S of it by 0.5’. P somewhat N of the galaxy by 8’ is an 11.5-magnitude star; 3’ SF the galaxy is a 13th-magnitude star that has another 13th-magnitude star S of it by 2’. The brightest star in the field is 15’ N very slightly F the galaxy and is 10th magnitude; it has a 14th-magnitude star P very very slightly N of it by 0.5’. In the 7mm Nagler: the galaxy is huge at this magnification; there’s still no real nucleus or core visible. But it seems like on the NP end there’s a detached segment that’s very slightly brighter than the rest of it—I mentioned that it was irregularly bright, and that’s really coming out here. It’s hard to get a good read on that detached bit beyond its presence there. This is certainly one of the better objects in the Flat Galaxy Catalogue.

Loren had built a riser for his 18-inch Obsession, the better to track down horizon-scraping planetary nebulae like NGC 3132 and NGC 2818. He was unsatisfied with it on the evening, though, and while observing NGC 3044, I stopped to help him and the others lift his scope down from the riser. (It was quite a team effort, judging by the conversation in my audio notes.) Apparently, Dan had been observing the Draco Trio at the time, as I warned him about the “false trio” that I’d stumbled across several years before.

But back to the task at hand, with a galaxy significantly more difficult than the previous. (And speaking of hands, I’d already gone to my electric gloves for warmth; the evening was already well into the “hibernation” range of temperatures.)

10:50
UGCA 221 (MCG-3-28-15; Hya): A really difficult one here, UGCA 221 in Hydra, down near Alkes (Alpha Crateris). This galaxy is very wraithlike and difficult but pretty immediately noticeable when swept into the field; the eye definitely says there’s something there, even though it’s very difficult to detect and hold. It’s 2.0’ by 0.25’, with almost no real identifiable characteristics to it at all. Averted vision doesn’t really help it that much— actually, it’s almost as difficult in averted vision as it is in direct. I’m gonna say it’s 160˚ PA, but I’m certainly not gonna hold to it; it’s so faint you could probably convince me it was 90˚ if you wanted to. At moments, it seems like the S end is more diffuse than the N, although everything about this is diffuse and poorly defined. (You’d think a flat galaxy would be fairly well defined, but not this one.) It really is just kind of a glow. There are some vaguely noteworthy stars in the field, but the galaxy is so faint it’s even hard to get distances from it: 5’ due P the galaxy is the N-most of a pair, angled NP-SF to each other and separated by 0.67’; those are both 12th magnitude, with the one to the NP somewhat brighter than the other… maybe 12 and 12.5 magnitude. Due N of the galaxy by 2.75’ is the SP star in an arc of three; that star is 12.5 magnitude and has a 13.5-magnitude star 2’ F very very slightly N of it, and that star has an 11.5-magnitude star NF it by 2.5’. The brightest star in the field is 13’ SP the galaxy and is 8.5 magnitude. So let’s throw the 7mm on this one and see if anything improves; as we saw from NGC 3044, just adding the magnification doesn’t necessarily mean anything.
 At this magnification, there still isn’t much to the galaxy: no core, no nucleus, no strip of central brightening… just a really weak wraith of a galaxy. I wish I had more to say about it, but there’s just not that much there. 

I’d been planning for several Springs to return to Wild’s Triplet with heavier artillery, having first (and unexpectedly) seen this trio at Eureka with the 12.5-inch several years before. Since then, I’d forgotten about it, or put it on the back burner, or only thought of it when I had the 12-5-inch out. But the topic had reappeared on CloudyNights, and so I made sure to add it as a break from the flat galaxies in my agenda. And here it was:

11:20
PGCs 36733, 36723,36742 (Wild’s Triplet; Arp 248 [Vir]): After several years of forgetting about it and not going back to it, this is Wild’s Triplet. Once again, I’m impressed with how bright the “main two” of these galaxies are; the third one is very difficult. But I could see all of them in my 12.5-inch scope, one of the most-difficult things I’ve ever seen in that scope, and from Eureka Ridge no less. But here, the two more S galaxies are unmistakable; I’m really surprised at how easy they are (the third one is just a real bugger tonight), but it’s the second one from P [OK, that was a good momentary look at the third one], the largest one of the group, [PGC 36733], that’s the most obvious of the three. In the 14mm, it’s 0.5’ in diameter, with a distinctly obvious core and every now and then what looks like just the faintest flash of a nucleus. Even in averted, though, it doesn’t steady up. The galaxy’s not smoothly round; it’s kind of irregular-shaped overall, even if the overall effect is roughly round. (This magnification probably isn’t the best to use; this might be one for the Delos.) The P-most of the three galaxies [PGC 36723] is second in brightness, and it’s not particularly bright; the first one I noted is really bright relatively for what it is; this second one is much more diffuse, 0.5′ x 0.3′, and elongated somewhat P-F; it’s P very slightly S of the brightest one by 2.5’. It’s much more diffuse, much less defined, but does have a smallish brighter core to it; I know these three are all interacting, but I wonder if it’s being pulled in the direction of the other one and that’s the cause of the visual distortion. For a second, [36733] seemed to have a tiny sliver extending from the S edge of the core toward the F; this was more than illusory, it was almost certainly there. The third galaxy [PGC 36742] is very much an occasional averted vision flash about 1.75’ N slightly F [36733]. But I can’t do anything to get a good visual fix on it; it’s just a tiny faint spot. It may have a nucleus, though, which is what I’m picking up every so often. From [36733] N very very slightly P by 6.5’ is a 7.5-magnitude star that is a huge unavoidable distraction from the galaxies, and that star is the P-most vertex of a little isosceles triangle; the other two stars are F slightly S of it by 2.25’; the third one is 1’ S very slightly P that one (the second vertex that I mentioned is 14th magnitude, and the third vertex is 13.5 magnitude). 5.25’ S very very slightly P [36733] is an 11.5-magnitude star. So I’m going to go ahead and change eyepieces and see if I can pick that third one out a little bit better. There’s definitely a stellar nucleus to [36733].  The third [36742] is very slightly N-S elongated, but very small, and that was a nucleus that I was seeing in that one too; I know I saw that in the 12.5-inch, but I’m surprised as hell as to how. This is too much power for it. [36742] is super diffuse other than that nucleus, and might be 0.25’ x 0.125’. There’s another glimpse of a possible spiral arm or whatever off [36733]; it definitely seems to extend from the N to the P, which is the opposite direction from the earlier sighting I had of such an extension. That galaxy also seems to be extended P from the nucleus; or, rather, the nucleus is not centered in it. It’s good to revisit this group after several years with both more experience and larger aperture.

I suspect it won’t be long before I return to Wild’s Triplet yet again—a fascinating group.

One of my heated gloves had died; I had to switch it out for an unheated one with a chemical handwarmer in it. But to hell with inconvenience; this was SCIENCE.

12:08
NGC 4703; PGC 43343 (Vir): One that’s not as impressive in the eyepiece as it is in photographs: NGC 4703 in Virgo, P and N of Spica, and it is not as easy as one might expect from an NGC. (I know that generalizations like that aren’t scientific.) This one is surprisingly long in averted vision; in averted, it’s about 2.75’ x 0.3’ at the middle, and is elongated in PA 160˚. There is definitely a core there, a central bulge; it has obvious central brightening and central enlargement to it, and the overall appearance is clearly irregularly bright. The spiral arms just peter out completely—that’s why averted vision is so important on galaxies like this; without averted, this is only about 1.5’ long. S somewhat P the galaxy by 8’ is a 7.5-magnitude star; S of the galaxy by 6.5’ is a 12.5-magnitude star, and then further S of the galaxy, 10’ S, is an 11.5-magnitude star that has S very very slightly F it a diffuse little galaxy [PGC 43343] with a small, slightly brighter core to it and a very, very diffuse halo; that galaxy is no more than 0.75’ around. There may be a substellar nucleus, but it’s intermittent at best. In the 7mm, 4703 also seems to have a nucleus, a very faint stellar one. The arms definitely need less in the way of averted vision to see at this magnification, and that central region, the brighter central region, is much more obvious. That’s a really fine galaxy; I don’t have much more to say about it at 7mm, but the extra magnification really helped on this one, and it’s definitely got a good presence to it.

I noticed, while taking notes on NGC 4703, that Scorpius had risen; Antares flickered in multi-colored splendor through the haze circling low around the horizon. (The changing colors of a star low to the horizon meant that there was considerable turbulence to the atmosphere—not uncommon along the horizons at Linslaw, due to its proximity to the Pacific Ocean.) Would I even get to observe Scorpius again this summer? Several bright Lyrid meteors added to the evening spectacle throughout; I even saw a few of them.

Meanwhile, Robert was packing up to leave. I suspected most of us would be following fairly soon; four-plus hours after sunset, the chill in the air was substantial. For me, I’d been awake since 5 AM, having put in a full day at the factory. My caveman brain was going a million miles per minute, but I had to admit that the shambling corpse it was housed in was pretty run down already.

Robert left while I was taking notes on my last object for the night. This was more noteworthy than it seemed—the crag had space for six vehicles at most, and then only if parking and telescope setup allowed for that many vehicles to pass. I usually parked at the far end, setting up my scope on the eastern-most flat space in the observing area; this time, I was closer to the western edge, near the road up/down the crag. This meant that Robert had to negotiate his car between my scope and Dan’s, as well as Loren’s truck. The resultant maneuvering required headlights, which required covering our heads to preserve dark adaptation (for those of us still observing; Loren guided Robert through). It took several minutes, but he eventually made it, with Loren soon after him. During the course of Robert’s departure, I added a friendly “drive careful,” which drew snickers from the others; I warned them not to taunt the group linguist on his grammar (the words that I used were, quote, “I will roast somebody’s ass.”).

Meanwhile, my final galaxy for several months continually called me back to the eyepiece.

12:41
NGC 5073 (Vir): Another from the 160-170˚ PA club tonight, this is NGC 5073 in Virgo, and it’s a long, fairly-bright-as-such-things-go streak, maybe 3.0’ x 0.3’. It’s actually a really well-defined galaxy; there’s no real sense that there’s more to it that’s visible in averted vision or anything like that. This is a good example of how the visible profile of a flat galaxy creates a different expectation than that of a face-on spiral—even though it’s an NGC, you think it should be brighter than it is; it’s still certainly readily apparent, but not as it would be if it was more inclined, with the core visible. I’m gonna just average it and say it’s about 165˚ PA, with even illumination all the way along the major axis. This is one of the few that I’ve done where you can actually see the taper in the spiral arms to its full extent.  N very slightly P the galaxy by 6.5’ is a 9th-magnitude star that has a 14th-magnitude star SF it by 1’, and then 0.5’ P slightly S of the 9th-magnitude star is a 15th-magnitude star. Then from the galaxy N slightly P by 3.75’ is a 15th-magnitude star, and from the galaxy P somewhat S by 5’ is a 12th-magnitude star with a 14.5-magnitude star 10” N slightly F it. 9’ S very very slightly P the galaxy is the N-most of a pair, which has S very very slightly F it by 0.75’ the second and brighter star; those are 13th and 12th magnitude. The brightest star in the field is P somewhat S of this one by 14’, just on the edge of the field, and is 8.5 magnitude.
With the 7mm Nagler, I’m seeing a fair amount of irregularity to the surface brightness here, but again, it’s just a really well-defined object—there’s still no sense that there’s anything beyond the directly visible extent of it. There may be, in the galaxy’s N end, a very, very faint embedded star, just above threshold level. I’m actually suspecting a quasi-stellar nucleus in averted vision (despite talking about how everything with this one is apparent in direct). This is a really beautiful and classic, though not overly bright, flat galaxy.

Dan and I joked about my not using my 10mm Delos, which he refers to as “the Precious.” I was back to fearing for the eyepiece’s safety, and made it a Spinal Tap reference, in which Nigel tells Marty not to touch or even look at one of his guitars.

I drove home after a final, lingering look around the site. A lot could happen in the three months I was going to be laid up—what if, for some reason, I never made it to Linslaw again? We had fair warning that Eureka Ridge was going to be gated off, but what if someone gated off the road to Linslaw? What if the gun worshippers or the forest squatters made it unsafe or unusable? This was the best observing site I’d ever had. It felt like sacred ground.

Despite my self-assurances, the drive home seemed like a finality.

II. We had one more observation before the month closed and my foot got opened up and the unseasonal rains came.

The lot of us convened at the Oxbow that next night, as it was the site of best forecast—and a fairly middling one, at that. We could tell the transparency was mediocre, even in daylight; a literal purple haze colored the southern reaches of the sky, and there was a “softness” to the sky behind the rocky hills in every direction. Still, this was a final swing at celestial glory for a considerable while, and none of us was willing to pass it up. (Prescient for the others, given the amount of rain that was to come.)

There were three 20-inch scopes, an 18-inch scope, and Robert’s binoscopes arrayed in the observing area, all of them making use of the better conditions early; things were predicted to get worse sky-wise as the night progressed.

4/23-24/22
THE OXBOW
SUNSET: 8:06 PM
MOON: 22 days (rose at 3:15 AM; 48% illuminated)
SEEING: 6
TRANSPARENCY: 6, 5
SQM: 21.2
NELM: not checked
WEATHER CONDITIONS: temps to upper 40s; slight dew; slight breeze, hazy; chilly
OTHERS PRESENT: JO, DB, LR, RA, DR
All observations: 20″ f/5 Obsession Dob, 14mm ES 82˚ eyepiece (181x, 0.45˚ TFOV) or 7mm TeleVue Nagler (363x, 0.21˚ TFOV) unless otherwise noted

While waiting for it to get fully dark, and hoping the transparency would be good enough for me to examine a few more flat galaxies, I stopped in on some of the familiar spring showpieces. Hickson 44, in Leo’s mane, was the most impressive I’d ever seen it; even the fourth galaxy, faint NGC 3187, stood out clearly from the background, and nearby NGC 3190 showed the barest hint of a dust lane. This was astounding—in such mediocre transparency, fine details and dim objects were still well within our grasp.

I continued on: NGC 2903, the Leo Trio, the Antennae Galaxies (accidentally sweeping up NGC 4027, a distorted one-armed spiral, along the way; I’d already taken notes on this one with the 12.5-inch), and the Sombrero (M104). But as I observed these galaxies, I could tell that we were already losing the already-tenuous transparency.

I started on my list for the night, but it was already too late. Each of the flat galaxies I’d made note to explore was fainter than the one before it. These were already difficult objects to observe; decaying sky conditions made them—if not impossible to take notes on—then certainly so diminished that it wouldn’t be “fair” to take notes on them now. I’m sure I dropped a few epithets off the ladder as my chances of taking notes came to an end for the season.

What to do when the big scope is set up and the faint stuff just can’t cut through the haze? Look at brighter stuff. The seeing was still decent, at least, so I simply went back to the first object class to have captured my attention: globular clusters. Spring isn’t prime time for globulars, but enough of them were visible to make the rest of the evening worthwhile: the M53/NGC 5053 pairing, NGC 5466 in Boötes, M3, NGC 5634 in Virgo, NGC 5694 in Hydra (an object of great nostalgia for me, as it was the most-difficult object I’d seen with my 8″ SCT in Cincinnati, and I was proud of the observation), M5 in Serpens, and M107 in Ophiuchus. I would’ve ended with M13, but it was still thoroughly buried in the light-dome of Eugene (which was worse than usual because of the reflecting haze).

But the transparency continued to dwindle, to the point that even the globulars were visibly diminished. We yielded, as a group, to the failing sky.

I packed up more slowly than usual and was last one out for the tricky drive home.