It
had been raining the day before, no, POURING with
dark, ominous clouds on the horizon was more like it.
There had been some plans for a Leonids observation
this night with a couple of my friends, but given the
portent warnings on the 16th, the observation plans
for the 17th vapourized.
And
guess what else vapourized too?! The bad weather, the
clouds, the rain, the haze vanished on the evening of
the 17th too!! *Arrghhh!*
At about 7.30pm, only very low-lying clouds to the
west side remained. Venus was shining hard and bright
in dusky blue sky. I hurried home, mentally
sequencing the quickest way to set-up my equipment.
Planetary
photography. To do or not to do? That is the
question. And I've never photographed Venus in the
nude before. Heck, I've never even once peeked at
Venus through a telescope before (although I honestly
thought about it many times when I saw that heavenly
body taking a dip in the evening skies). Tonight
seemed like a good night to be bad and indulge myself
in these wicked fantasies. *lol!*
:)
8pm,
equipment in place and ready to go. A little place
orientation here: The kitchen balcony faces the west,
the living room balcony faces the east. This means
tonight, I get to voyeurise not one, but three heavenly bodies. Saturn and Jupiter were steadily
rising over the eastern horizon. But first, Venus,
before the Earth rotates her view below my visible
horizon.
I
was too lazy to fix the finder scope, so I manually
moved my Pentax 105 at 20x through the sky within the
vicinity of Venus. It wasn't long before a single
highly luminous sphere of light fell into sight.
Bright, very bright. At 140x, the view of Venus in
her gibbous stage was dazzling. *whoa.* I need my
sunglasses. I couldn't see any details on this
glaringly bright planet. Venus was a brilliant shade
of pure white-yellow, unlike the white-blue of
Sirius. Talk about diamonds in the sky, Venus is
easily the equivalent of the Hope diamond (minus the
curse). Change of OTA. The WYO Fluoro Star 100 at
160x, Venus was still as scintillating.
A
quick glance from the living room balcony showed that
Saturn and Jupiter were now prime visual targets. I
shifted my entire assembly from the kitchen balcony,
through the kitchen, past the dining room, down two
steps, across the living room and out onto the
balcony. (Have I mentioned that astronomers without a
permanent observing base need not sign up for gym
membership ever?)
8.30pm,
back to the Pentax OTA. Searching at 20x. Target
Jupiter found. Tonight is a really good crystal-clear
night. At 20x, I could see a few bands across Jupiter
escorted by Io, Europa, Ganymede and Callisto. In the
same view, four fainter stars dotted the background.
Jupiter and its four Galilean satellites I've seen
before, but the four fainter stars dispersed around
them were the first for me here in the city.
At
140x, Jupiter's creamy surface loomed in right before
my eyes with its numerous brown bands. There was no
GRS. Not yet anyway. I quickly checked out the
Peterson field guide to put names to these bands. For
the first time, I could match the Jovian northern
& southern temperate / tropical / equatorial
zones and belts. Very nice.
Next
target : Saturn. Searching at 20x. Target Saturn
found. I was unprepared for the view around Saturn.
Two small star-like points near this gas giant. I can
only guess that one of them is the satellite Titan.
The other one, I think is Rhea. These are the only
two satellites that could be brighter than 10th
magnitude. There was a third star-like point, but I
think that one really could be a star.
At
140x, the Cassini division sharply cut across the
rings. Again, numerous narrow bands draped across the
surface. The two star-like points of light remained
steady. Definitely not stars.
This
was an excellent photo opportunity. Given the
unpredictable equatorial weather here in Singapore, I
don't know when I'll have this chance again. I
dragged Dad out to see this. (My continuing efforts
to immerse my parents in astronomy.) "What's
this one called?" Dad adjusted the focusing
knob. "Saturn." I replied. "Very nice!
Quick go get your mother!" Mom appeared behind
as most mothers usually do by some uncanny instinct.
"What?" she quipped. "Look! See! A
planet." Dad relinquished the eyepiece to Mom.
"What's this one called?" Mom asked as she
furtively tried to get the image in place. She hasn't
been able to master looking through the eyepiece for
some strange reason. "Saturn." I repeated.
"Satan. Ah." Mom nodded. I mentally slapped
my forehead. "Sat-Turn, not Say-Tan! You know,
like SAT-urday and TURN-the-knob?? Saturn!!"
*sigh!* So much for planetary phonetics. Dad hurried
off to get my brother who was in his room. I could
hear the "Quick! Come see the planet
Satan!" Good grief..
I
left my parents at the telescope while I grabbed a
new roll of film from the fridge. Camera locked and
loaded. I gently shooed my parents away as I began my
photography session. 9.15pm, the neighbours were
returning from their Friday night outings. One
neighbour from the opposite building had been
observing me for a while. I merrily waved to her and
she quickly ducked behind the stairs.
Between
shots, my friends called up sporadically to spread
news of the clear skies. I called up a couple more to
pass the news. Orion has risen. Aldebaran was 4
o'clock from Jupiter's position. M45, Pleiades was
easily visible with about 6 stars naked eye. Looking
at M42, I saw 3 stars naked eye in the area.
By
10.15pm, Saturn was out of photographic line of
sight, so I continued with Jupiter until 10.30pm. I
packed up and went online, only to receive an e-mail
from another friend reporting the peak of Leonids at
3am.
3am,
I was still awake, I went back to the living room
balcony, waiting for the Leonids. 3.15am, hungry.
Grabbed a pack of Pizza sticks from the kitchen and
returned to the balcony, patiently waiting for a
meteor. The waning quarter Moon was out. A quick
binocular view revealed ragged crater details.
Shadows melted into Mare Serenitatis.
3.30am,
I saw one quick flash past the left side of the Moon.
I froze with a half-eaten pretzel in my mouth. Did I
imagine that or did I really see one? Dang the
streetlights and the blinding quarter Moon! I spent
the next 5 minutes trying to simulate meteor flashes
with my imagination. Ok, that didn't work, so it
wasn't my imagination. I concentrated on the eastern
sky. Another friend had claimed the meteor peak at
4am. Either ways, I wasn't seeing any meteors. Not
with the light pollution around me.
3.45am,
saw another out of the corner of my eye, another
faint flash. Again, I questioned my imagination. 4am,
OK, forget the meteor shower, I'm gonna grab some
sleep. I'd long finished my Pizza sticks and the half
jug of milk that I'd just drank had diluted my
patience. Good night.
The
following morning, a friend called to tell me that
the skies in Malaysia were equally good and that at
its peak, fellow astronomers saw 1 meteor per second.
By
Lin . 18th November 2000, Saturday.
