astronomy-guide

Tidal Forces and Moon

2008-10-30T07:46:00.000-07:00

Newton proposed that every object with mass exerts a gravitational pull or force on every other object with mass in the universe. Well, the earth is much more (80more) massive than the moon, which is why the moon orbits us, and not we it. (If you want to get technical, we both actually orbit an imaginary point called the center of mass.) However, the moon is sufficiently massive to make the effects of its gravitational field felt on the earth.
Anyone who lives near the ocean is familiar with tides. Coastal areas experience 2 high and 2 low tides within any 24-hour period. The difference between high and low tides is variable, but, out in the open ocean, the difference is somewhat more than 3 feet. If you’ve ever lifted a large bucket of water, you know how heavy water is. Imagine the forces required to raise the level of an entire ocean 3 or more feet! What force can accomplish this?
The tidal force of gravity exerted by the moon on the earth and its oceans. The moon and the earth mutually pull on each other; the earth’s gravity keeping the moon in its orbit, the moon’s gravity causing a small deformity in the earth’s shape.
This deformity results because the moon does not pull equally on all parts of the earth. It exerts more force on parts of the earth that are closer, and less force on parts of the earth that are farther away. Just as Newton told us: Gravitational forces depend on distance. These differential or tidal forces are the cause of the earth’s slightly distorted shape—it’s ovoid rather than a perfect sphere— and they also make the oceans flow to two locations on the earth: directly below the moon, and on the opposite side. This flow causes the oceans to be deeper at these two locations, which are known as the tidal bulges. The entire Earth is pulled by the moon into a somewhat elongated—football—shape, but the oceans, being less rigid than the earth, undergo the greatest degree of deformity.
Interestingly, the side of the earth farthest from the moon at any given time also exhibits a tidal bulge. This is because the Earth experiences a stronger gravitational pull than the ocean on top of it, and the Earth is “pulled away” from the ocean on that side. As the Earth rotates beneath the slower-moving moon, the forces exerted on the water cause high and low tides to move across the face of the earth.
The tides of largest range are the spring tides, which occur at new moon, when the moon and the sun are in the same direction, and at full moon, when they are in opposite directions. The tides of smallest range are the neap tides, which occur when the sun and the moon are at 90 degrees to one another in the sky. Tides affect us every day, of course, especially if you happen to be a sailor or a fisherman. But even if you live high and dry in Kansas or Nebraska, say, tides (and the moon) still affect you. Every day, the earth is spinning a little slower on its axis because of the moon.

Impact theory of moon

2008-10-30T07:43:00.000-07:00

The favored theory today combines elements of the daughter theory and the capture theory in something called an impact theory. Most astronomers now believe that a very large object, roughly the size of Mars, collided with the earth when it was still molten and forming. Assuming the impact was a glancing one, it is suggested that shrapnel from the earth and the remnant of the other planetesimal (a planet in an early stage of formation) were ejected and then slowly coalesced into a stable orbit that formed the moon.
This model is also popular because it can explain some unusual aspects of the earth (the “tip” of its rotational axis, perhaps) and the moon. In the impact model, it is further theorized that most of the iron core of the Mars-sized object would have been left behind on the earth, eventually to become part of the earth’s core, while the material that would coalesce into the moon acquired little of this metallic core. This model can explain why the earth and moon share similar mantles (outer layers), but apparently differ in core composition.

Captive theory of moon

2008-10-30T07:41:00.000-07:00

A third theory suggests that the moon was formed independently and far from the earth, but was later captured by the earth’s gravitational pull when it came too close.
This theory can account for the differences in composition between the earth and the moon, but it does not explain how the earth could have gravitationally captured such a large moon. Indeed, attempts to model this scenario with computer simulations have failed. Moreover, while the theory accounts for some of the chemical differences between the earth and moon, it does not explain the many chemical similarities that also exist.

A sister theory of moon

2008-10-30T07:40:00.000-07:00

Another theory holds that the moon formed separately near the earth from the same material that formed the earth. In effect, the earth and the moon formed as a double-planet system.
This theory seemed quite plausible until lunar rock samples were recovered, revealing that the moon differs from Earth not only in density, but in composition. If the two bodies had formed out of essentially the same stuff, why would their compositions be so different?

Daughter theory of moon

2008-10-30T07:37:00.000-07:00

The oldest of the four theories speculates that the moon was originally part of the earth, and was somehow spun off a rapidly spinning, partially molten, newly forming planet.
Once prevalent, this theory (sometimes referred to as the fission theory) has largely been rejected, because it does not explain how the proto-Earth could have been spinning with sufficient velocity to eject the material that became the moon. Moreover, it is highly unlikely that such an ejection would have put the moon into a stable Earth orbit.

Understanding Moon Phases

2008-10-17T18:31:00.000-07:00

Take the time to observe the moon through all of its phases. When the moon is about three or four days “old,” Mare Crisium and other vivid features—including the prominent craters Burckhardt and Geminus—become dramatically visible, assuming it’s a clear night. You can also begin to see Mare Tranquilitatis, the Sea of Tranquility.
At day seven, the moon is at its first quarter. At this time, mountains and craters are most dramatically visible. Indeed, this is the optimum night for looking at lunar features in their most deeply shadowed relief.
As the moon enters its waxing gibbous beyond first quarter phase, its full, bright light is cheerful, but so bright that it actually becomes more difficult to make out sharp details on the lunar surface. An inexpensive “moon filter” or variable polarizing filter fitted to your telescope can help increase contrast on the bright lunar surface. As the moon verges on full, we do get great views of the eastern maria, the lunar plains. Past day 14, the moon begins to wane as the sunset terminator moves slowly across the lunar landscape. At about day 22, the Apennine Mountains are clearly visible. It was these mountains that Galileo studied most intensely, attempting to judge their height by the shadows they cast.
During the late waning phase of the moon, moonrise comes later and later at night, as the moon gradually catches up with the sun in the sky. By the time the moon passes day 26, it is nothing but a thin crescent of light present in the predawn sky. The new moon follows, and as the moon overtakes the sun, the crescent reappears (on the other side of the moon at sunset), and it begins to wax again. Here are some cold, hard facts about a cold, hard place. The moon is Earth’s only natural satellite, and in fact a very large satellite for a planet as small as the earth. The planet Mercury is only slightly larger than the moon. The mean distance between the earth and moon, as it orbits our planet from west to east, is 239,900 miles (386,239 km). The moon is less than one-third the size of the earth, with a diameter of about 2,160 miles (3,476 km) at its equator. Moreover, it is much less massive and less dense than the earth—1/80 as massive, with a density of 3.34 g/cm3, in contrast to 5.52 g/cm3 for the earth. If the earth were the size of your head, the orbiting moon would be a tennis ball 30 feet away.
Because the moon is so much less massive than the earth, and about a third as big, its surface gravity is about one-sixth that of our planet. That’s why the Apollo astronauts could skip and jump like they did, even wearing those heavy space suits. If you weigh 160 pounds on the earth’s surface, you would weigh only 27 pounds on the moon. This apparent change would give you the feeling of having great strength, since your body’s muscles are accustomed to lifting and carrying six times the load that burdens them on the moon. Of course, your mass—how much matter is in you—does not change. If your mass is 60 kilograms (kg) on the earth, it will still be 60 kg on the moon. the moon is in a synchronous orbit around the earth; that is, it rotates once on its axis every 27.3 days, which is the same time that it takes to complete one orbit around the earth. Thus synchronized, we see only one side of the moon (except for the tantalizing peek at the far side that libration affords).

What You Can See On The Moon?

2008-10-17T18:27:00.000-07:00

Even if you don’t have a telescope, there are some very interesting lunar observations you can make. Have you ever thought that the moon looks bigger when it’s closer to the horizon? It’s just an optical illusion, but you can test it out. The angular size of the moon is surprisingly small. A circular piece of paper just about 0.2 inches in diameter held at arms’ length should cover the moon. At the next full moon, cut out a little disk of that size and prove to yourself that the moon stays the same size as it rises high into the sky.
The telescope through which Galileo Galilei made his remarkable lunar observations was a brand-new and very rare instrument in 1609; but you can easily surpass the quality of his observations with even a modest amateur instrument.
Why is it so exciting to point your telescope at the moon?
Because no other celestial object is so close to us. Being so close, the moon provides the most detailed images of an extraterrestrial geography that you will ever see through your own telescope.
When should you look at the moon?
The easy answer is: anytime the sky is reasonably clear. But if you’re thinking that you should always wait until the moon is full, think again. When is the best time to view a rugged Earthly landscape at its most dramatic? When the sun is low, early in the morning or late in the afternoon, and the light rakes across the earth, so that shadows are cast long and all stands in bold relief.
The same holds true for the moon. When you can see the sunrise or sunset line (the terminator), and the moon is not so full as to be blindingly bright, that is when the topography of the moon will leap out at you most vividly. This characteristic means that you’ll get some very satisfying viewing when the moon is at one of its crescent phases, and probably not at its full phase.

What Galileo Saw on the moon?

2008-10-17T18:12:00.000-07:00

It is possible to observe many features of the moon without a telescope. One of the first things you should try is to track its daily motion against the background stars. Since the moon travels around the earth (360 degrees) in
27.3 days, it will travel through about 13 degrees in 24 hours, or about half a degree (its diameter) every hour.
Galileo was the first person to look at the moon through a telescope; indeed, its mottled gray face was one of the first celestial objects on which he trained his new instrument in 1609.
What he saw conflicted with existing theories that the surface was glassy smooth; it was instead rough and mountainous. He closely studied the terminator, or the boundary separating day and night, and noted the shining tops of mountains. Using simple geometry, he calculated the height of some of the mountains based on the angle of the sun and the estimated length of shadows cast. Galileo overestimated the height of the lunar mountains he observed; but he did conclude rightly that their altitudes were comparable to Earthly peaks.
Noticing mountains and craters on the moon was important, because it helped Galileo conclude that the moon was fundamentally not all that different from the earth. It had mountains, valleys, and it even had what were called seas—in Latin, maria though there is no indication that Galileo or anyone else maintained after telescopic bservations that the maria were water-filled oceans. Conten-ding that the moon resembled the earth in 1609 was not a small thing. This statement implied that there was nothing supernatural or special about the moon or perhaps the planets and the stars, either. Followed to its conclusion, the observation implied that there was perhaps nothing divine or extraordinary about the earth itself. The earth was a body in space, like the moon and the other planets.

Lunar Looking

2008-09-22T08:06:00.000-07:00

While the world greeted Jules Verne’s 1865 book De la Terre à la Lune (translated in 1873 as From the Earth to the Moon) with acclaim and wonder, it was hardly the first fictional speculation about a voyage to our nearest cosmic neighbor. The Greek satirist Lucian had written about such a flight as early as the second century C.E. and the moon, our constant companion, has always been an object of intense fascination.
Its reflected silvery glow bathes the Earth with romance and mystery. Its changing face, as it travels through its monthly cycle, has always commanded our attention, as have its peculiarly human qualities: Unlike the stars, it is pocked, mottled, imperfect. Almost all cultures at all times have seen some sort of face or figure in the features of the moon. Only rather recently have we realized just how important the moon has been in the evolution of our planet. The sun is so intensely brilliant that to gaze at it is to go blind. But the moon, coincidentally the same size in the sky as the sun, shines with harmless reflected light that invites us to gaze and gaze—to become lunatics.

What If We Had No Moon?

2008-09-22T08:05:00.000-07:00

It seems like a reasonable question to ask. What if we had no moon? Would it matter? What has the moon done for me lately?
It turns out that the presence of such a large moon as we have is unusual for a terrestrial planet. Mercury and Venus have no moons, and Mars has two tiny moons, Phobos and Deimos. To have a moon roughly 1/3 the size of the planet is unique in the inner solar system. Our Moon, for example, is as large as some of the moons of the giant gas planets in the outer solar system. If there were no moon, we would have no ocean tides, and the rotation rate of the earth would not have slowed to its current 24 hours. It is thought that early in the life of the Earth, it rotated once every 6
hours. The moon also appears to stabilize the rotational axis of the Earth. The Moon, in periodically blocking the light from the Sun’s photosphere gives us a view of the outer layers of the Sun’s atmosphere, and it also gave early astronomers clues to the distribution of objects in the solar system.

Our Closest Neighbor : The Moon

2008-09-22T07:57:00.000-07:00

It has been more than 30 years since Neil Armstrong stepped from the Apollo 11 Lunar Lander onto the surface of the moon. The moon is still the only celestial body other than the Earth where humans have stood. But why did we go there? Columbus had sailed to a place promising great riches to exploit. The moon, in contrast, was and is a lifeless orb, devoid of water (mostly!), air, sound, weather, trees, or grass. While Columbus’s voyages had their tight moments (he once had to “predict” a solar eclipse to impress the natives), on his return from the fourth and final voyage to the New World, Columbus announced that he had indeed found an Earthly paradise.
But the moon?
From the pictures we’ve all seen, the lunar landscape is one of rock, dust, and desolation. And although the astronauts were seen skipping across its surface, they were clearly happy to return to mother Earth. Why on earth did our nation expend such effort, treasure, and risk to send astronauts to the lunar surface? What have we

The Demise of Mir

2008-09-12T09:10:00.000-07:00

After several years of mishaps and close calls, the decision was made to discontinue
use of the Mir Space Station and to concentrate on the collaboration with the international community on the International Space Station. Early in 2001, the Mir Space Station was de-orbited and allowed to crash into the South Pacific Ocean. At 12:55 A.M. EST on March 22, 2001 (05:55 Greenwich Mean Time), the Mir station was 50 km (31 mi) above Earth’s surface. At 12:58 A.M. EST (05:58 GMT, 8:55 A.M. Moscow time) fragments of the station hit the ocean.
Alix Bowles, Project Coordinator for MirReentry.com watched the space station break into pieces as it streaked through the sky from a beach in Fiji. “It was a stunning blue steak followed by a sonic boom,” he said. “The pieces had a blue incandescence to them. There was something very peaceful about it,” he added. In its later years, the Mir station had become the butt of late-night television jokes, but, in fact, it was a productive scientific instrument and an important test bed for technology used on the International Space Station. Mir lasted years far longer than its designers had envisioned.

Skylab

2008-09-12T08:53:00.000-07:00

On May 14, 1973, the United States launched its first orbiting space station, Skylab, designed to accommodate teams of astronauts to conduct a variety of experiments in geography, engineering, Earth resources, and biomedicine. Such work was carried out during 1973 and the beginning of 1974. In 1974, the craft’s orbit was adjusted to an altitude believed sufficient to keep Skylab in orbit until 1983, when a visit from the Space Shuttle was contemplated. At that time, the orbit would again be adjusted. Unfortunately, Skylab wandered out of orbit prematurely, in June 1978, and ultimately disintegrated and fell into the Indian Ocean on July 11, 1979.

Space Shuttles and Space Stations

2008-09-12T08:27:00.000-07:00

The flight of Apollo 17 in 1972 was the last manned lunar mission, but not the end of the U.S. manned space program. On April 12, 1981, the first Space Shuttle, a reusable spacecraft (the previous space capsules had been one-shot vehicles) was launched. The Shuttle was intended to transport personnel and cargo back and forth from a manned space station, planned for Earth orbit. So far, Shuttle missions have carried out a variety of experiments, have delivered satellites into orbit, and have even repaired and upgraded the Hubble Space. In 1999, it started its most ambitious mission: the construction of an international space station, to be built in conjunction with Russia, Japan, and the European Space Agency (ESA). The realities of politics and economics mean that, in the twenty-first century, countries will be much more likely to cooperate in the race to space.

A More Distant Voyager

2008-08-26T06:07:00.000-07:00

The Cassini-Huygens mission, a joint undertaking of NASA, the European Space Agency (ESA), the Italian Space Agency (ASI), and several other organizations, was sent on its way October 15, 1997, to investigate Saturn as well as Titan (one of Saturn’s moons). Some scientists believe that Titan might support life or, at least, offer conditions in which life could develop. The mission was named Cassini, in honor of the seventeenth-century French-Italian astronomer Jean Dominique Cassini, who discovered the prominent gap in Saturn’s main rings; and Huygens, after the Dutch scientist Christiaan Huygens, who discovered the Saturn moon Titan in 1655, as well as the rings of Saturn. It recently transmitted dramatic images of Jupiter as it sped past on its way to Saturn.

Mars Observer, Surveyor, and Pathfinder

2008-08-26T06:05:00.000-07:00

Mars Observer, launched on September 25, 1992, was to conduct extensive imaging work while orbiting Mars, but contact was lost with the spacecraft on August 22, 1993, as the satellite was establishing an orbit around the red planet. It is possible that a fuel tank exploded, destroying the spacecraft. Mars Global Surveyor was launched on November 7, 1996, and is continuing a long project of (among other things) detailed low-altitude mapping of the Martian surface. Unexpected oscillations in its solar panels while coming into a circular orbit around the planet caused the start of the major surface mapping program to be delayed by almost a year.

Although the Global Surveyor project is extraordinarily ambitious, the public may have been more excited by the mission of the Mars Pathfinder. The craft was launched on December 4, 1996, and landed on Mars the following summer, using a combination parachute and rocket-braking system, as well as an air bag system to ensure a soft, upright landing. A “micro-rover” vehicle was deployed, which began transmitting extraordinary panoramic and close-up pictures of the Martian landscape. It is little wonder that Pathfinder has caused such a stir. We’ve always been fascinated by Mars, which, of all the planets, seems most like Earth and has often been thought of as possibly harboring life—even civilization.

Magellan, Galileo, and Ulysses

2008-08-26T06:03:00.000-07:00

More recent U.S. planetary probes have been increasingly ambitious. Magellan was launched in May 1989 and ultimately placed into orbit around Venus. Using high-resolution radar imaging, Magellan produced images of more than 90 percent of the planet, yielding more information about Venus than all other planetary missions combined.
The spacecraft made a dramatic conclusion to its four-year mission when it was commanded to plunge into the planet’s dense atmosphere on October 11, 1994, in order to gain data on the planet’s atmosphere and on the performance of the spacecraft as it descended.
On October 18, 1989, Galileo was launched on a journey to Jupiter and transmitted data on Venus, the earth’s moon, and asteroids before reaching Jupiter on July 13, 1995, and dropping an atmospheric probe, which gathered data on Jupiter’s atmosphere. After an extended analysis of the giant planet, Galileo began a mission to study Jupiter’s moons, beginning with Europa. The so-called Galilean moons were discovered by the mission’s namesake, Galileo Galilei in 1610. The Ulysses probe was delivered into orbit by the shuttle Discovery on October 6, 1990. A joint project of NASA and the European Space Agency (ESA), Ulysses gathers solar data and studies interstellar space as well as the outer regions of our own solar system. Much of the spacecraft’s instrumentation is designed to study x-rays and gamma rays of solar and cosmic origin.

Pioneers and Voyagers

2008-08-26T06:00:00.000-07:00

In the fall of 1958, Pioneer 1 was launched into lunar orbit as a dress rehearsal for the planetary probes that followed. The rest of the Pioneer craft probed the inner solar system for planetary information, and Pioneers 10 (1972) and 11 (1973) explored Jupiter and Saturn, the giants at the far end of our solar system. Later, in 1978, Pioneer Venus 1 and Pioneer Venus 2 orbited Venus to make surveys of that planet’s lower atmosphere and, using radar imaging, penetrated thick gaseous clouds in order to reveal the spectacular and forbidding landscape below.

Mariners and Vikings

2008-08-26T05:50:00.000-07:00

The U.S. Mariner program launched probes designed to make close approaches to Mars, Venus, and Mercury. Mariner 2 (1962) and Mariner 5 (1967) analyzed the atmosphere of Venus. Mariner 4 (1964) and 6 and 7 (both 1969) photographed the Martian surface, as well as analyzed the planet’s atmosphere. Mariners 6 and 7 also used infrared instruments to create thermal maps of the Martian surface, and, in 1971, Mariner 9, in orbit around Mars, transmitted television pictures of the planetary surface. Mariner 10, launched in 1973, was the first spacecraft to make a close approach to Mercury and photograph its surface.
But even more exciting were the two Viking missions, launched in 1975. The following year, both made successful soft landings on Mars and conducted extensive analysis of the Martian surface.

The Apollo Missions

2008-08-14T02:02:00.000-07:00

The data from the unmanned probes and orbiters was overwhelming in its volume and detail. Some critics continued to argue: Why send human beings? The manned missions clearly captured public attention, beginning with the Soviet Vostok series (1961–1963, including Vostok 6, which carried the first woman into space, Valentina V. Tereshkova) and the U.S. Mercury series (1961–1963). The Mercury series included two suborbital flights and the first U.S. manned flight in orbit, Friendship 7, commanded by John H. Glenn Jr., and launched on February 20, 1962.

(On October 29, 1998, 77-year-old Senator John Glenn boarded the Space Shuttle Discovery and became the oldest man in space. He returned from the mission on November 7.) The U.S. Gemini program came next, twelve two-man spaceflights launched between 1964 and 1967. The Gemini flights were intended very specifically to prepare astronauts for the manned lunar missions by testing their ability to maneuver spacecraft, to develop techniques for orbital rendezvous and docking with another vehicle—essential procedures for the subsequent Apollo Moon-landing program—and to endure long spaceflights. The eight-day Gemini 5 mission, launched August 21, 1965, was the longest spaceflight to that time. The Soviets also developed larger launch vehicles and orbiters. Voskhod 1, launched on October 12, 1964, carried three “cosmonauts” (as the Russians called their astronauts) into Earth orbit.

The U.S. Apollo lunar missions not only made up the most complex space exploration program ever conceived, but were perhaps the most elaborate scientific and technological venture in the history of humankind. Today, even if we had the desire, we no longer have the launch vehicles required to bring astronauts to the moon. According to the mission plan, a Saturn V multistage booster (rocket) would lift the 3-man Apollo spacecraft on its 21/4-day voyage to the moon, leaving behind the launch stages in pieces as it left the earth. After its journey, the small remaining piece of the initially launched craft would become a satellite of the moon, and the Lunar Module, with two men aboard, would separate from the orbiting Command Module and land on the moon. After a period of exploration on the lunar surface, the astronauts would climb back into the Lunar Module, lift off, and dock with the orbiting Command Module, which would fire its rockets to leave its lunar orbit and carry the three astronauts back to Earth.

After several preliminary missions, including Earth- and Moon-orbital flights, Apollo 11 was launched on July 16, 1969. On board were Neil A. Armstrong, Edwin E. “Buzz” Aldrin Jr., and Michael Collins. While in lunar orbit, Armstrong and Aldrin entered the Lunar Module, separated from the Command Module, and landed on the Moon, July 20, 8:17 P.M. Greenwich Mean Time.

“That’s one small step for [a] man,” Armstrong declared, “one giant leap for mankind.” And perhaps that sentence expressed the rationale for the effort, which went beyond strictly scientific objectives and spoke of and to the human spirit. Not that science was neglected. During their stay of 21 hours and 36 minutes, the astronauts collected lunar soil and moon rocks and set up solar-wind

Apollo 12 landed on the Moon on November 19, but Apollo 13, launched April 11, 1970, had to be aborted because of an explosion, and the astronauts, as recounted in a recent film through their great skill, resourcefulness, and courage, barely escaped death.

Apollo 14 (launched January 31, 1971), Apollo 15 (July 26, 1971), Apollo 16 (April 16, 1972), and Apollo 17 (December 7, 1972) all made successful lunar landings. Budgetary constraints, declining public interest, and the improving capabilities of unmanned missions eventually brought an end to the Apollo missions.

Lunar Probes

2008-08-14T01:55:00.000-07:00

There were voices raised in protest, both in the political and scientific communities. Why try to put men on the moon, when unmanned probes could tell as much or more—and accomplish the mission with far less expense and danger?
The Russians had successfully launched the first lunar probe, Luna 2, on September 12, 1959, targeting and hitting the moon with it. Luna 3, launched the following month, on October 4, 1959, made the first circumnavigation of the moon
and transmitted back to Earth civilization’s first photographs of the Moon’s mysterious far side.
Another Soviet lunar first would come on January 31, 1966, when Luna 9 made a successful lunar soft landing—as opposed to a destructive impact.
In 1961, the United States launched the first of the Ranger series of nine unmanned lunar probes, hitting the moon with Ranger 4 in 1962 and orbiting it, with Rangers 7, 8, and 9, during 1964–1965. These last three missions generated some 17,000 high-resolution photographs of the lunar surface, not only valuable as astronomy, but indispensable as a prelanding survey.
From 1966 to 1968, seven Surveyor probes made lunar landings (not all successful), took photographs, sampled the lunar soil, and performed environmental analysis. Surveyor 6 (launched on November 7, 1967) landed on the lunar surface, took photographs, then lifted off, moved eight feet, landed again, and took more photographs. It was the first successful lift-off from an extraterrestrial body. The Lunar Orbiter series, five orbital missions launched during 1966–1967, mapped much of the lunar surface in 1,950 wide-angle and high-resolution photographs. These images were used to select the five primary landing sites for the manned Apollo missions.

JFK’s Challenge

2008-08-14T01:53:00.000-07:00

On May 5, 1961, about three weeks after the Russians put a man into a single orbit, U.S. Navy commander Alan B. Shephard was launched on a 15-minute suborbital flight into space. Americans were proud of this achievement, to be sure, but the Soviets had clearly upstaged it. Just 20 days later, on May 25, President John F. Kennedy spoke to Congress: “I believe this nation should commit itself to achieving the goal, before the decade is out, of landing a man on the moon and returning him safely to Earth. No single space project in this period will be more impressive to mankind, or more important for the long-range exploration of space, and none will be so difficult or expensive to accomplish.”

First Observatories in Space

2008-08-14T01:51:00.000-07:00

In 1962, the United States launched its first extraterrestrial observatory, the Orbiting Solar Observatory (OSO). It was the first of a series of solar observatories, designed to gather and transmit such data as the frequency and energy of solar electromagnetic radiation in ultraviolet, x-ray, and gamma ray regions of the spectrum—all regions to which our atmosphere is partially or totally opaque.

The Early Explorers

2008-08-14T01:49:00.000-07:00

The first space satellite the United States sent into orbit was Explorer 1, launched on January 31, 1958. While the satellite didn’t beat Sputnik 1 into space, it accomplished considerably more than the Soviet probe. Explorer 1 carried equipment that discovered the innermost of the Van Allen radiation belts, two zones of charged particles that surround the earth. By 1975, when the Explorer series of missions ended, 55 satellites had been launched, including Explorer 38 (July 4, 1968), which detected galactic radio sources, and Explorer 53 (May 7, 1975), which investigated x-ray emission inside and beyond the Milky Way.

Satellites and Probes

2008-08-14T01:47:00.000-07:00

Astronomers and other scientists were not always enthusiastically supportive of the manned space program, many of them feeling that it stole both public attention and government funding away from more useful data-gathering missions that could be carried out much more efficiently and inexpensively by unmanned satellites and probes. There is much truth to this sentiment. However, at least in the 1960s, unmanned exploratory missions continued to have high priority, and did not really suffer from the parallel development of the manned space program.

Early Human Missions

2008-07-27T04:56:00.000-07:00

While both the Soviet Union and the United States launched a series of artificial satellites, the major goal quickly became “putting a man in space.” This objective was less scientific than psychological and political. The Soviet communists were determined to demonstrate the superiority of their technology generally and, in particular, the might of their ballistic missiles. At the time, their rockets were more powerful than what the United States had. The Soviets were eager to demonstrate that they were capable of lofting a person (and all of the machinery necessary to support a person) into space—or a warhead onto an American city.

Just as the Soviets had been first into orbit with Sputnik, so, on April 12, 1961, they were first to put a person, Yuri Alekseyevich Gagarin, into space—and into Earth orbit, no less. The first woman, Valentina Tereshkova of the USSR followed in 1963. It took America 20 more years to achieve this landmark. Through the rest of the 1960s, the Soviets and the Americans sent cosmonauts and astronauts into orbit and even had them practice working outside of their spacecraft in what were termed “extravehicular activities” or, more familiarly, space walks.

The Battle Cry of Sputnik

2008-07-27T04:22:00.000-07:00

Impressive as the achievements of Piccard and others were, balloons could never move beyond the frontier of space. They needed the earth’s atmosphere to loft them.
After the war, scientists in America and the Soviet Union began experimenting with
so-called sounding rockets developed from the V-2s, in part to probe (sound) the upper atmosphere. While a sounding rocket was accelerated to speeds of up to 5,000 miles per hour, it would run out of fuel by about 20 miles up.

This acceleration gave the rockets sufficient velocity to continue their ascent to about a hundred miles, after which the rocket fell to Earth. Any instrumentation it carried had to be ejected, parachuted to safety and recovered, or the information had to be transmitted to a ground station by radio before the rocket crashed. The goal of rocket science at this point was not only to reach higher altitudes, but to achieve a velocity that could launch an artificial satellite into orbit around the earth. Imagine a rock thrown into the air. The force of gravity causes it to travel in a parabola and return to the earth. If the ball were thrown at a greater and greater velocity, it would travel farther and farther until it returned to the earth. At some velocity, however, the rock would never return to the earth, but continually fall toward it (this is what the moon is doing: orbiting the earth). It was no mean trick to get a satellite going fast enough to make it orbit the earth.

A single-stage rocket, like the V-2, exhausted its fuel supply before it reached sufficient altitude and velocity to achieve orbit. It lacked the necessary thrust. To build a more powerful rocket required a return to Goddard’s idea of a “stepped” or staged rocket. A staged rocket jettisoned large parts of itself as fuel in each lower part—or stage—ran out. Thus the rocket became progressively less massive as it ascended, both by burning fuel and by discarding the empty fuel tanks.

During the early and mid-1950s, there was much talk of putting a satellite into orbit, and both the United States and the Soviets declared their intention to do so. In the Cold War atmosphere of the time, it came as a great shock to Americans when the USSR was the first to succeed, launching Sputnik I (Russian for “satellite”) into orbit on October 4, 1957. The 185-pound (83.25 kg) satellite had been lofted to an altitude of about 125 miles (201 km) and had achieved the required Earth orbital velocity of some 18,000 miles (28,980 km) an hour. The first Sputnik was a primitive device by today’s standards. It did nothing more than emit a radio beep to tell the world it was there. But it didn’t have to do more than that. The point was made, the Space Age was born, and the space race had begun.

Playing with Balloons

2008-07-27T04:20:00.000-07:00

While the V-2 had achieved great altitude by the 1940s, scientists were still a long way from attempting a human ascent. These early rockets were intended to explode at the end of the journey. If an instrument or a human were on board, explosions were to be avoided at all costs. In fact, another technology, the balloon, would be the first to take human beings into the upper stratosphere, the frontier of space. Auguste Piccard (1884–1962), a Swiss-born Belgian physicist, built a balloon in 1930 to study cosmic rays, which the earth’s atmosphere filters out. Piccard developed revolutionary pressurized cabin designs, which supported life at high altitudes, and, in 1932, reached an altitude of 55,563 feet. The following year, balloonists in the Soviet Union used Piccard’s design to reach 60,700 feet, and an American balloonist topped that later in the year at 61,221 feet.

From Scientific Tool to Weapon and Back Again

2008-07-27T04:07:00.000-07:00

From the early 1900s through the 1930s, peacetime governments and the scientific community showed relatively little interest in supporting such pioneers as Tsiolkovsky, Goddard, and Oberth. Unfortunately, it took war in Europe, and a desire to launch bombs onto other nations, to spur serious, practical development of rockets. The research and development took place almost exclusively in Germany.
During the late 1930s, under the militaristic regime of Adolf Hitler, two rocket weapons were created. The first, known as the V-1, was more a pilotless jet aircraft than a rocket. About 25 feet long, it carried a 2,000-pound bomb at 360 miles per hour for a distance of about 150 miles. It was a fairly crude device: When it ran out of fuel, it crashed and exploded. Out of about 8,000 launched, some 2,400 rained down on London from June 13, 1944, to March 29, 1945, with deadly effect. In contrast to the V-1, the V-2 was a genuine rocket, powered not by an air-breathing jet engine, but by a rocket engine burning a mixture of alcohol and liquid oxygen.

The V-2 had a range of about 220 miles and also delivered 2,000 pounds of high explosives to its target. From September 8, 1944, to March 27, 1945, about 1,300 V-2s were launched against Britain. Scientists of every stripe spent the years from 1939 to 1945 directing their energies toward the defeat of the enemy. Many of the techniques developed during the war (radar technology and rocket engines, to name two) would become crucial to astronomy in the decades after WWII.
During the last days of the war in Europe, as U.S. forces invaded Germany from the west and Soviet forces invaded from the east, both sides scrambled to capture V-2s and, with them, German rocket scientists, such as Wernher von Braun. Both sides saw the potential in being able to deliver bombs over long distances. These rockets and the scientists who made them were at the center of the Cold War and the Space Race—a period of competition in politics and high technology between the two superpowers that dominated the postwar world.

This Really Is Rocket Science

2008-07-13T16:28:00.000-07:00

While spaceflight was the subject of many centuries of speculation, three men worked independently to lay its practical foundation. Konstantin Eduardovich Tsiolkovsky (1857–1935) was a lonely Russian boy, almost totally deaf, who grew up in retreat with his books. He became a provincial schoolteacher, but his consuming interest was flight, and he built a wind tunnel to test various aircraft designs. Soon he became even more fascinated by the thought of space travel, producing the first serious theoretical books on the subject during the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries.

Another quiet, introspective boy, this one a New Englander, Robert Hutchings Goddard (1882–1945), was captivated by H. G. Wells’s science-fiction novel War of the Worlds, which he read in an 1898 serialization in the Boston Post. On October 19, 1899 (as he remembered it for the rest of his life), young Goddard climbed a cherry tree in his backyard and “imagined how wonderful it would be to make some device which had even the possibility of ascending to Mars.” From that day, the path of his life became clear to him. Goddard earned his Ph.D. in physics in 1908 from Clark University in his hometown of Worcester, Massachusetts, and, working in a very modest laboratory, he showed experimentally that thrust and propulsion can take place in a vacuum (this follows from Newton’s Laws of motion—the expelled gases pushing forward on the rocket). He also began to work out the complex mathematics of energy production versus the weight of various fuels, including liquid oxygen and liquid hydrogen. These are the fuels that would ultimately power the great rockets that lofted human beings into orbit and to the moon—and still power the launch of many rockets today. Goddard was the first scientist to develop liquid-fuel rocket motors, launching the inaugural vehicle in 1926, not from some governmental, multimillion-dollar test site, but from his Aunt Effie’s farm in Auburn, Massachusetts. Through the 1930s and 1940s, he tested increasingly larger and more powerful rockets, patenting a steering apparatus and the idea of what he termed “step rockets”—what would later be called multistage rockets—to gain greater altitude.

Goddard’s achievements were little recognized in his own time, but, in fact, he had single-handedly mapped out the basics of space-vehicle technology, including fuel pumps, self-cooling rocket motors, and other devices required for an engine designed to carry human beings, telecommunications satellites, and telescopes into orbit. Hermann Oberth (1894–1989), born in Austria, was destined for a medical career, like his father, but his medical studies were interrupted by World War I. Wounded, he studied physics and aeronautics while recovering. While he was still in the Austrian army, he performed experiments to simulate weightlessness, and designed a longrange, liquid-propellant rocket. The design greatly impressed Oberth’s commanding officer, who sent it on to the War Ministry, which summarily rejected it. After the war, University of Heidelberg faculty members likewise rejected Oberth’s dissertation concerning rocket design. Undaunted, Oberth published it himself—to great acclaim—as The Rocket into Interplanetary Space (1923). In 1929, he wrote Ways to Spaceflight, winning a prize that helped him finance the creation of his first liquidpropellant rocket, which he launched in 1931.
During World War II, Oberth became a German citizen and worked with Wernher von Braun to develop rocket weapons.

The Space Race

2008-07-13T16:24:00.000-07:00

While countless human beings have gazed up at the sky with wonder, a few were never content just to look. They didn’t want to wait for the information to get here, they wanted to go there. In the second century C.E., the Greek satirist Lucian wrote the first account we have of a fictional trip from the earth to the moon. Doubtless, someone had thought about such a trip before Lucian, and certainly many contemplated space travel after him. It was not until the eighteenth century that people were first lofted into the air by hot-air balloons. And while the airplane made its debut in 1903, human spaceflight—in which a human ventured beyond the earth’s protective atmospheric blanket—did not come about until the 1961 flight of a Soviet cosmonaut Yuri Alekseyevich Gagarin.

Chandrasekhar and the X-Ray Revolution

2008-07-13T16:23:00.000-07:00

Electromagnetic radiation at the highest end of the spectrum can now be studied. Since x-rays and gamma rays cannot penetrate our atmosphere, all of this work must be done by satellite. Work began in earnest in 1978 when an x-ray telescope was launched, called the High-Energy Astronomy Observatory (later, the Einstein Observatory). The R"oentgen Satellite (ROSAT) was next launched by Germany in 1990. The Chandra X-ray Observatory (named for astronomer Subrahmanyah Chandrasekhar) was launched into orbit in July 1999 and has produced unparalleled high-resolution images of the x-ray universe. The Chandra image of the Crab Nebula, home to a known pulsar, showed never before seen details of the environment of an exploded star. For recent images, go to www.chandra.harvard.edu. X-rays are detected from very high energy sources, such as the remnants of exploded stars (supernova remnants) and jets of material streaming from the centers of galaxies. Chandra is the premier x-ray instrument, doing in this region of the spectrum what the Hubble Space Telescope has done for optical observations.

In 1991, the Gamma Ray Observatory (GRO) was launched by the space shuttle. It is revealing unique views of the cosmos, especially in regions where the energies involved are very high: near black holes, at the centers of active galaxies, and near neutron stars.

New Infrared and Ultraviolet Observations

2008-07-13T16:20:00.000-07:00

Telescopes need to be specially equipped to detect infrared radiation—the portion of the spectrum just below the red end of visible light. Infrared observatories have applications in almost all areas of astronomy, from the study of star formation, cool stars, and the center of the Milky Way, to active galaxies, and the large-scale structure of the universe. IRAS (the Infrared Astronomy Satellite) was launched in 1983 and sent images back to Earth for many years. Like all infrared detectors, though, the ones on IRAS had to be cooled to low temperatures so that their own heat did not overwhelm the weak signals that they were trying to detect. Although the satellite is still in orbit, it has long since run out of coolant, and can no longer make images. The infrared capability of the Hubble Space Telescope provided by NICMOS (Near-Infrared Camera and Multi-Object Spectograph) yielded spectacular results while in operation. The Next-Generation Space Telescope (NGST) will be optimized to operate at infrared wavelengths, and will be cooled passively (by a large solar shield).

Ultraviolet radiation, which begins in the spectrum at frequencies higher than those of visible light, is also being studied with new telescopes. Since our atmosphere blocks all but a small amount of ultraviolet radiation, ultraviolet studies must be made by high-altitude balloons, rockets, or orbital satellites. The Hubble Space Telescope, for instance, has the capability to detect ultraviolet (UV) photons as well as those with frequencies in the visible and infrared. Ultraviolet observations provide our best views of stars, and stars with surface temperatures higher than the sun’s.

What is SETI?

2008-07-13T15:42:00.000-07:00

If you’ve seen such sci-fi movies as The Arrival, Independence Day, or Contact, you already know about an organization called SETI (Search for Extra-Terrestrial Intelligence). It is an international group of scientists and others who, for the most part, use radio telescopes to monitor the heavens in search of radio signals generated not by natural phenomena, but broadcast artificially by intelligent beings from other worlds. So far, no clearly artificial extraterrestrial radio signals have been confirmed, but SETI personnel keep searching. The SETI project got a large boost recently when Paul Allen, one of the co-founders of Microsoft, committed $12.5 million to the project. The new instrument to be built exclusively for SETI will be called the Allen Telescope Array.
If you are interested in the search for extraterrestrial intelligence, you don’t have to just read about it, you can actually participate in it. A few highly committed amateur radio astronomers have built SETI-capable radio telescopes and spend time searching for artificial signals of extraterrestrial origin. If you’re not up to making such a commitment, the SETI Institute is developing an alternative. In a project called SETI@home, a special kind of screensaver program (a program that, typically, puts up a pretty, animated picture on your PC monitor when the computer is idle) has been installed on over 1.5 million computers in 224 countries. When the computer is idle, this program will use the time to go to work analyzing data from four million different combinations of frequency bandwidth and drift rate recorded by the world’s largest radio telescope at Arecibo, Puerto Rico. With thousands of computers crunching this data, the SETI Institute believes that it can analyze data more quickly, thereby increasing the chances of ferreting out a radio signal from an intelligent source. Information on SETI@home can be found on the Net at www.seti-inst.edu.

Solar Flares and Meteor Events

2008-07-13T15:40:00.000-07:00

Solar flares, are explosive events that occur in or near an active region on the sun’s surface. Flares can be detected with a very low frequency (VLF) receiver operating in the 20- to 100-KHz (kilohertz, or thousand hertz) band. (This is below the region of the spectrum where AM radio stations broadcast.) Such a receiver can be homemade, using plans supplied by such organizations as SARA. Solar flares can also be monitored in regular shortwave radio bands with a standard shortwave receiver. Why do solar flares create radio signals? They generate x-rays that strike a part of our atmosphere called the ionosphere, greatly enhancing the electron count in this atmospheric region. These electrons generate the noise picked up by the radio.

Amateur Radio Astronomy: No-Cost and Low-Cost Approaches

2008-06-28T07:34:00.000-07:00

A decent optical telescope costs at least $300 to $400. For free optical astronomy, all you need are your eyes. You can also do some radio astronomy for free—if you own an FM radio or a television set. We thank Tom Crowley of Atlanta Astronomy Club for many of the following ideas. Even they are affordable, don't drop it, because it breaks easily. If that's happen then I'll send you a nice condolence letter
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Have you ever witnessed a meteor shower? The streaks of light in the night sky can be quite spectacular.
Meteors are the bright trails of ionized atmosphere behind tiny bits of cometary debris that enter the earth’s atmosphere. Most meteorites are no larger than a pea. What if we told you that there was another way to watch a meteor shower—using a radio telescope otherwise known as an FM radio?
Meteor counts by radio are about ten times more accurate than visual observation—and, as with any radio observations, you can observe during the day or through clouds. It doesn’t have to be dark or clear outside. You may want to supplement your optical meteor gazing with your radio on cloudy nights.
Recall that the earth’s atmosphere is transparent to some forms of electromagnetic radiation and opaque to others. The upper atmosphere normally reflects low-frequency AM radio signals. In contrast, the atmosphere is transparent to higher frequency FM radio waves, which, as a consequence, have a shorter range. They usually penetrate and are not reflected by the atmosphere.
But something happens when a meteorite enters the atmosphere. Each piece of debris that tears into the atmosphere (at up to 40 miles per second), heats up the air around it and creates a tiny ionized (electrically charged) vapor trail in the upper atmosphere. These columns of charged particles can reflect even higher frequency FM radio waves. This temporary condition means that previously out-of-range FM broadcasts can (for a moment) be heard. During periods of known meteoric activity, stay at the low end of the FM dial and try to find FM radio stations that are from 400 to 1,300 miles away. You might call a distant friend to get the broadcast frequency of a few stations. When a distant station fades in for a second or two, you are indirectly observing a meteor. The trail behind it has momentarily reflected a distant radio signal into your receiver. It helps if you can hook up your radio to an outdoor antenna, but if the meteor shower is fairly intense, you should detect many events even without such an antenna. You can also try tuning your TV set to the lowest unused VHF channel. Again, when a distant station, normally out of range, fades in and the signal becomes strong for a second or two, you know a meteor has entered the atmosphere. (Note that this works only with a television receiving signals from an outdoor antenna—not via cable or satellite!)
Just by tuning in your radio, you can do some meaningful radio astronomy. You can make it more interesting by recording the events on tape, or keeping a written record of the number of events you detect per hour.
But amateur radio astronomy need not be limited to listening for distant FM radio or TV stations. If you are an amateur radio operator—a ham—you already have much of the equipment required for more serious radio astronomy. If you aren’t into amateur radio, you can get started for a highly variable but modest cost. The first step to take is to log onto SARA’s World Wide Web site (www.bambi.net/sara.html) for overview information.
Essentially, amateurs can use either nonimaging or imaging radio astronomy techniques. Nonimaging techniques (which monitor radio emissions without pinpointing locations) require a simple shortwave receiver, usually modified to receive a narrow band of frequencies, and a simple antenna system. With such equipment, you can track radio emission from Jupiter, solar flares, and meteor events. Imaging techniques (which provide more detailed information on the location and nature of the signal) require a more serious commitment of resources, including a much larger dish-type antenna, more sophisticated receiving equipment, reasonably elaborate recording equipment, and (probably) a rural location removed from most sources of radio interference. For purposes of this blog, we’ll restrict ourselves to the more approachable nonimaging techniques, which are more appropriate for beginners.

You Can Do This, Too!

2008-06-28T06:55:00.000-07:00

Building a huge radio telescope like Arecibo or the Green Bank Telescope (GBT) takes a great deal of money, and so does operating one. Even if you had the cash, your neighbors (not to mention the local zoning board), might frown on your building even a modest 30-foot-diameter dish antenna in your backyard. However, remember that radio astronomy originated with non-astronomers, and there is still plenty of room in the field for amateurs, including amateurs of modest means. You can see the sky just like an ancient Aztec
astronomer. A small but committed group of enthusiasts have formed the Society of Amateur Radio Astronomers (SARA). Most books for budding astronomers don’t discuss amateur radio astronomy, though it is a fascinating and rewarding subject.

What Radio Astronomers “See”

2008-06-28T06:47:00.000-07:00

Insomnia is a valuable affliction for optical astronomers, who need to make good use of the hours of darkness when the sun is on the other side of the earth. But as Karl Jansky discovered so many years ago, the sun is not a particularly bright radio source. In consequence, radio astronomers (and radio telescopes) can work night and day.
The VLA, for example, gathers data (or runs tests) 24 hours a day, 363 days a year. Not only is darkness not required, but you can even make radio observations through a cloud-filled sky. The senior author of this book even observed a distant star-forming region in the midst of a storm during which lightning struck near the VLA and disabled it for a few minutes.
As the Dutch astronomer Jan Oort realized after reading Reber’s work in the 1940s, radio waves opened new vistas into the Milky Way and beyond. Radio astronomers can observe objects whose visible light doesn’t reach the earth because of obscuration by interstellar dust or simply because they emit little or no visible light. The fantastic objects known as quasars, pulsars, and the regions around black holes—all of which we will encounter later in this book—are often faint or invisible optically, but do emit radio waves.
The spiral form of our own Galaxy was first mapped using the 21 cm radio spectral line from neutral (cold) hydrogen atoms, and the discovery of complex molecules between the stars was made at radio frequencies.
The very center of our own Milky Way Galaxy is hidden from optical probing, so that most of what we know of our galactic center has come from infrared and radio observation. Since radio interferometers are detecting an interference pattern, radio data has to be processed in ways different from optical data. But the end result is either a radio image, showing the brightness of the source on the sky, or a radio spectrum, showing a spectral line or lines.

Interference Can Be a Good Thing

2008-06-16T23:33:00.000-07:00

There is a way to overcome the low angular resolution due to the size of radio waves:
link together a lot of smaller telescopes so they act like one giant telescope. A radio interferometer is a combination of two or more radio telescopes linked together electronically to form a kind of virtual dish, an array of antennas that acts like one gigantic antenna. It is as if we had small pieces of a very large optical telescope (imagine a giant mirror with a lot of its surface area punched out), so that while an interferometer has the resolution of a very large telescope, it does not have the surface area or sensitivity to faint sources of a truly gigantic telescope.
The National Radio Astronomy Observatory (NRAO) maintains and operates the Very Large Array (VLA) interferometer on a vast plain near Socorro, New Mexico, consisting of 27 large dishes arrayed on railroad tracks in a Y-shaped pattern. Each arm is 12.4 miles (20 km) long, and the largest distance between 2 of the antennas is 21.7 miles (35 km). As a result, the VLA has the resolving power of a radio telescope 21.7 miles across. The VLA recently celebrated its twentieth anniversary.
For radio astronomers who want something even larger than “very large,” there is Very Long Baseline Interferometry (VLBI), which can link radio telescopes in different parts of the world to achieve incredible angular resolutions better than a thousandth of an arcsecond (.001”). From its offices in Socorro, New Mexico, the NRAO also operates the VLBA (Very Long Baseline Array), which consists of 10 radio dishes scattered over the United States, from Mauna Kea, Hawaii, to St. Croix, U.S. Virgin Islands. In 1996, Japanese astronomers launched into Earth’s orbit a radio telescope to be used in conjunction with the ground based telescopes in order to achieve the resolution of a telescope larger than the earth itself.

Bigger Is Better: The Green Bank Telescope

2008-06-16T23:31:00.000-07:00

In the case of radio telescopes, size really does matter. The resolution of a telescope depends not only on its diameter, but the wavelength of the detected radiation (the ratio of wavelength to telescope diameter determines the resolution). Radio waves are big (on the order of centimeters or meters), and the telescopes that detect them are correspondingly huge. Also, the radio signals that these instruments detect are very faint, and just as bigger optical telescope mirrors collect more light than smaller ones, bigger radio telescopes collect more radio waves and image fainter radio signals than smaller ones.
Collecting radio signals is just part of the task, however. You may recall that, for practical purposes, very good optical telescopes located on the earth’s surface can resolve celestial objects to 1” (1 arcsecond—1 /60 of 1 arcminute, which, in turn, is 1 /60 of 1 degree). The best angular resolution that a very large single-dish radio telescope can achieve is about 10 times coarser than this, about 10”, and this, coarse as it is, is possible only with the very largest single dish radio telescopes in the world. The National Radio Astronomy Observatory has just commissioned the world’s largest fully steerable radio telescope. The 100 m dish will have a best resolution of 14”.
The world’s largest nonsteerable single-dish radio telescope was built in 1963 at Arecibo, Puerto Rico, and has a dish, 300 meters (984 feet) in diameter sunk into a natural valley. While its great size makes this the most sensitive radio telescope, the primary surface is nonsteerable—totally immobile—and, therefore, is limited to observing objects that happen to pass roughly overhead (within 20 degrees of zenith) as the earth rotates.

Anatomy of a Radio Telescope

2008-06-16T23:27:00.000-07:00

The basic anatomy of a radio telescope hasn’t changed all that much from Reber’s dish—though the instruments have become much larger and the electronics more sophisticated. A radio telescope works just like an optical telescope. It is just a “bucket” that collects radio frequency waves, and focuses them on a detector. A large metal dish—like a giant TV satellite dish—is supported on a moveable mount (either equatorial or altazimuth). A detector, called a receiver horn, is mounted on legs above the dish (prime focus) or below the surface of the dish (Cassegrain focus). The telescope is pointed toward the radio source, and its huge dish collects the radio waves and focuses them on the receiver, which amplifies the signal and sends it to a computer. Since the radio spectrum is so broad, astronomers have to decide which portion of the radio spectrum they will observe. Different receivers are used for observations at different frequencies. Receivers are either swapped in and out, or (more typically) the radio signal is directed to the correct receiver by moving a secondary reflecting surface (like the secondary mirror in an optical telescope).

A Telephone Man Tunes In

2008-06-16T23:26:00.000-07:00

The first true radio astronomer was not trained as an astronomer at all. Even to this day, many astronomers who work in the radio regime were trained as physicists and electrical engineers, and later learned to apply their knowledge to astronomy. Karl Jansky, the son of a Czech immigrant who settled in Oklahoma (where Karl was born in 1905), took a degree in physics at the University of Wisconsin. After graduating, Karl went to work in 1928 not as an astronomer, but as a telephone engineer with Bell Labs. The phone company was looking for ways to make telephone communications possible with shortwave radio, but the transmissions were bedeviled by all sorts of interference.
Now most people hadn’t given much thought to radio static. After all, static was something to be avoided if possible—meaningless noise that only interfered with communications. Jansky was given the assignment of studying sources of static at a wavelength of 14.6 m in an effort to track down the precise sources of radio interference and eliminate them.
On a farm in Holmdel, New Jersey, not far from Bell Labs, Jansky set up a very ungainly looking device, which he called a merry-go-round. It was a large directional antenna, which looked rather like the biplane wing of the Wright brothers’ first airplane. It was mounted on some discarded Model T Ford wheels and could be rotated through 360 degrees by means of a motor. Using this contraption, Jansky was soon able to identify all the known sources of radio interference except one. Jansky tracked the stubborn and mysterious interference. When amplified and sent to a speaker, the interference sounded like a faint hiss. The source seemed to be in the sky, since Jansky could track it rising and setting with the stars. But it wasn’t coming from just anywhere in the sky. By the spring of 1932, Jansky traced the primary source of radio noise to the direction of the constellation Sagittarius, which astronomers Harlow Shapley and Jan H. Oort had identified (from the distribution of globular clusters in the Galaxy) as the direction of the center of the Milky Way Galaxy. Using his merry-go-round antenna, Jansky had “discovered” the center of the much bigger merry-go-round that is our galaxy. There were other sources of radio noise in the sky as well, but Jansky noted that the sun itself was not an impressive source of radio noise. This observation was a bit surprising, since the sun is so close to us. He concluded that whatever the source of radio noise, it probably wasn’t distant stars.
Jansky published his “discovery” late in 1932, and the detection of radio signals from space appeared in national newspapers by the following year. Strangely enough, Jansky himself didn’t pursue the science he had accidentally created. As for most professional astronomers, they continued to look through only one of their two windows, the portion of the spectrum available to optical telescopes. It took another nonastronomer, Grote Reber, to appreciate the possibilities of what Jansky had discovered. In today’s image-conscious world, we might call Reber a nerd. But as the example of Bill Gates has shown us, some nerds go on to change the world. Born in Wheaton, Illinois in 1911, he grew up tinkering with radio transmitters, building one powerful enough to communicate with other ham radio operators all over the world. Like many early radio astronomers, he became an electrical engineer, but never lost his interest in amateur radio, and when he read about Jansky’s discovery, he tried, without success at first, to adapt his own shortwave receiver to pick up interstellar radio waves with wavelengths of 10 cm.
He tinkered with the electronics (trying longer wavelengths), and, in 1937, built a paraboloidal antenna 30 feet in diameter. With this, Reber not only confirmed Jansky’s discovery of radio waves from the direction of Sagittarius, but found other sources in the direction of the constellations Cygnus, Cassiopeia, and elsewhere.
Reber confirmed that the radio signals did not coincide with the positions of visible stars. Directing his dish toward such bright stars as Sirius, Vega, or Rigel, he detected nothing. But looking toward a starless area in Cassiopeia, he picked up strong radio waves. He had unknowingly detected a supernova remnant known as Cassiopeia A.

Dark Doesn’t Mean You Can’t See

2008-06-16T23:19:00.000-07:00

On a clear night far from urban light pollution, the sky is indeed dazzling. Just remember that the electromagnetic information your eyes are taking in, wondrous as it is, comes from a very thin slice of the entire spectrum. As we mentioned in the last chapter, the earth’s atmosphere screens out much of the electromagnetic radiation that comes from space. It allows only visible light and a bit of infrared and ultraviolet radiation to pass through a so-called optical window and a broad portion of the radio spectrum to pass through a radio window.
Two windows.
If your house had two windows, would you look through only one?

Seeing in the Dark

2008-06-16T22:37:00.000-07:00

“What’s an astronomer, Daddy?”
Spending much time around a little boy or girl can be pretty exhausting. All those questions! At least this one has a quick answer: “An astronomer is a person who looks at the sky through a telescope.”
“But, Daddy, the visible spectrum is squeezed between 400 and 700 nm. What about the rest of the electromagnetic spectrum?”
Smart kid.
Until well into the twentieth century, astronomers had no way to “see” most of the nonvisible electromagnetic radiation that reached Earth from the universe. Then along came radio astronomy, which got its accidental start in 1931–1932 and was cranking into high gear by the end of the 1950s. Over the past 40 years or so, much of our current knowledge of the universe has come about through radio observations. Radio astronomy is simply the study of the universe at radio wavelengths. Astronomers used to categorize themselves by the wavelength of the observations that they made: radio astronomer versus optical astronomer. Increasingly, though, astronomers define their work more by what they study (pulsars, star formation, galactic evolution) than by what wavelength they use. The reason for this change is that, in recent years, new instruments have opened the electromagnetic spectrum to an unprecedented degree. Astronomers now have the ability to ask questions that can be answered with observations at many different wavelengths.

Read Any Good Spectral Lines Lately?

2008-05-26T06:43:00.000-07:00

Using the spectrum and armed with the proper instrumentation, then, astronomers can accurately read the temperature of even very distant objects in space. And even without sophisticated equipment, you can startle your friends by letting them know that Betelgeuse (a reddish star) must have a lower surface temperature than the yellow sun.
Astronomers also use the spectrum to learn even more about distant sources. A spectroscope passes incoming light through a narrow slit and prism, splitting the light into its component colors. Certain processes in atoms and molecules give rise to emission at very particular wavelengths. Using such a device, astronomers can view these individual spectral lines and glean even more information about conditions at the source of the light. While ordinary white light simply breaks down into a continuous spectrum—the entire rainbow of hues, from red to violet, shading into one another—light emitted by certain substances produces an emission spectrum with discrete emission lines, which are, in effect, the fingerprint of the substance.

Hydrogen, for example, has four clearly visible spectral lines in the visible part of the spectrum (red, blue-green, violet, and deep violet). The color from these four lines (added together as light) is pinkish. These four spectral lines result from the electron that is bound to the proton in a hydrogen atom jumping between particular energy levels. There are many other spectral lines being emitted; it just so happens that only four of them are in the visible part of the spectrum. Hot hydrogen gas is the source of the pinkish emission from regions around young stars like the Orion.

In our hydrogen atom example, a negative electron is bound to a positive proton. The electron, while bound to the proton, can only exist in certain specific states or energy levels. Think of these energy levels as rungs on a ladder. The electron is either on the first rung or the second rung. It can’t be in between. When the electron moves from one energy level to another (say, from a higher one to a lower one), it gives off energy in the form of a photon. Since the levels that the electron can inhabit are limited, only photons of a few specific frequencies are given off. These particular photons are apparent as bright regions in the spectrum of hydrogen: the element’s spectral emission lines.

The Black-Body Spectrum

2008-05-26T06:38:00.000-07:00

As Maxwell first described in the nineteenth century, all objects emit radiation at all times because the charged atomic particles of which they are made are constantly in random motion. As these particles move, they generate electromagnetic waves. Heat an object, and its atomic particles will move more rapidly, thereby emitting more radiation. Cool an object, and the particles will slow down, emitting proportionately less electromagnetic radiation. If we can study the spectrum (that is, the intensity of light from a variety of wavelengths) of the electromagnetic radiation emitted by an object, we can understand a lot about the source. One of the most important quantities we can determine is its temperature. Fortunately, we don’t need to stick a thermometer in a star to see how hot it is. All we have to do is look at its light carefully. But how?
All objects emit radiation, but no natural object emits all of its radiation at a single frequency. Typically, the radiation is spread out over a range of frequencies. If we can determine how the intensity (amount or strength) of the radiation emitted by an object is distributed across the spectrum, we can learn a great deal about the object’s properties, including its temperature.
Physicists often refer to a black body, an imaginary object that absorbs all radiation falling upon it and re-emits all the radiation that it absorbs. The way in
which this re-emitted energy is distributed across the range of the spectrum is drawn as a black-body curve. Now, no object in the physical world absorbs and radiates in this ideal fashion, but the black-body curve can be used as a reference index against which the peak intensity of radiation from real objects can be measured. The reason is that the peak of the blackbody curve shifts toward higher frequencies (and shorter wavelengths) as an object’s temperature increases.
Thus, an object or region that is emitting very short wavelength gamma ray photons must be much hotter than one producing longer wavelength radio waves. If we can determine the wavelengths of the peak of an object’s electromagnetic radiation emissions, we can determine its temperature.
Astronomers measure peak intensity with sophisticated scientific instruments, but we all do this intuitively almost every day. You have an electric kitchen range, let’s say. The knob for one of the heating elements is turned to off. The heating element is black in color. This tells you that it may be safe to touch it.
But if you were to turn on the element, and hold your hand above it, you would feel heat rising, and would know that it was starting to get hot. If you had infrared vision, you would see the element “glowing” in the infrared. As the element grows hotter, it will eventually glow red, and you would know that it was absolutely a bad idea to touch it (regardless of where the control knob happened to be pointing). At room temperature, the metal of the heating element is black, but as it heats up, it changes color: from dull red to bright red. If you had a very high-voltage electric range and a sufficiently durable heating element, you could crank up the temperature so that it became even hotter. It would emit most of its electromagnetic radiation at progressively higher frequencies.
Now, an object that omits most of its radiation at optical frequencies would be very hot. And a range will never (we hope) reach temperatures of 6000 K, like the sun. The red color you see from the range is in the “tail” of its black-body spectrum. Even when hot, it is still emitting most of its radiation in the infrared part of the spectrum.

Atmospheric Ceilings and Skylights

2008-05-26T06:13:00.000-07:00

The information—the news—we get from space is censored by the several layers of Earth’s atmosphere. In effect, our Earth is surrounded by a ceiling pierced by two skylights. A rather broad range of radio waves readily penetrates our atmosphere, as does a portion of infrared and most visible light, in addition to a small portion of ultraviolet. Astronomers speak of the atmosphere’s radio window and optical window, which allow passage of electromagnetic radiation of these types. To the rest of the spectrum—lower-frequency radio waves, some lower-frequency infrared, and, fortunately for us, most of the energetic ultraviolet rays, x-rays, and gamma rays—the atmosphere is opaque, an impenetrable ceiling.
In many ways, the partial opacity of our atmosphere is a very good thing, since it protects us from x-ray and gamma radiation. An atmosphere opaque to these wavelengths, but transparent to visible light and some infrared, is a big reason why life can survive at all on Earth.
For astronomers, however, there is a downside to the selective opacity of the earth’s atmosphere. Observations of ultraviolet, x-ray, and gamma ray radiation cannot be made from the surface of the earth, but must be made by means of satellites, which are placed in orbit well above the atmosphere. No wonder that the advent of the space age has led to such an explosion in the amount of information that we have about the universe.

Full Spectrum

2008-05-07T05:10:00.000-07:00

Often, when people get excited, they run around, jump up and down, and shout without making a whole lot of sense. But when atomic particles get excited, they can produce energy that is radiated at a variety of wavelengths. In contrast to the babble of an excited human throng, this electromagnetic radiation can tell you a lot, if you have the instruments to interpret it.
Our eyes, one such instrument, can interpret electromagnetic radiation in the 400 to 700 nanometer (or 4000 to 7000 Angstrom) wavelength range. A nanometer (abbreviated nm) is one billionth of a meter, or 10–9 meter. An Angstrom (abbreviated A) is 10 times smaller, or 10–10 meter. But that is only a small part of the spectrum. What about the rest of the “keyboard”?

Big News from Little Places

2008-05-07T05:08:00.000-07:00

The Greek philosopher Democritus (ca. 460–ca. 370 B.C.E.) was partially right: matter does consist of atoms. But he would have been fascinated to know that the story doesn’t end there. Atoms can be further broken down into electrons, protons, and neutrons, and the latter two are made of even smaller things called quarks.
Electrons carry a negative electric charge, and protons a positive charge. Neutrons have a mass almost equal to a proton, but as their name implies, neutrons are neutral, with no positive or negative charge. Charged particles (like protons and electrons) that are not moving are surrounded by what we call an electric field; those in motion produce electromagnetic radiation.
James Clerk Maxwell (1831–1879) first explored what would happen if such a charged particle were to oscillate, or move quickly back and forth. He showed that a moving charged particle created a disturbance that traveled through space—without the need for any medium. Particles in space are getting banged around all the time. Atoms collide, electrons are accelerated by magnetic fields, and each time they move, they pull their fields along with them, sending “electromagnetic” ripples out into space.
In short, information about the particle’s motion is transmitted through space by a changing electric and magnetic field. But a field is not a substance. It is a way in which forces can be transmitted over great distances without any physical connection between the two places. The force of gravity, which we have discussed, can also be thought of as a field.
Let’s turn to a specific example: A star is made up of innumerable atoms, most of
which at unimaginably hot stellar temperatures are broken into innumerable charged
particles. A star produces a great deal of energy (by nuclear fusion. This energy causes particles to be in constant motion. In motion, the charged particles are the center points of electromagnetic waves (disturbances in the electromagnetic field) that move off in all directions. A small fraction of these waves reaches the surface of the earth, where they encounter other charged particles. Protons and electrons in our eyes, for instance, oscillate in response to the fluctuations in the electric field. As a result, we perceive light: an image of the star. If we happened to have, say, the right kind of infrared-detecting equipment with us, electrons if that equipment would respond to a different wavelength of vibrations originating from the same star.
Similarly, if we were equipped with sufficiently sensitive radio equipment, we might pick up a response to yet another set of proton and electron vibrations.
Remember, it is not that the star’s electrons and protons have traveled to Earth, but that the wave they generated so far away have excited other electrons and protons here. Call it an interstellar handshake.

New Wave

2008-05-07T05:05:00.000-07:00

If you don’t happen to like math, don’t panic. Just visualize stone-generated waves rippling across a pond, and you’ll understand the basic concept of waves. But wait a minute. There is something wrong with our ripples in a pond as a model of electromagnetic radiation.
Water is a medium, a substance, something through which waves are transmitted. Space, we have said, is very nearly a vacuum, nothing. How, then, do waves move through it?
This is a question that vexed physicists for centuries. They understood the concept of waves. But they also understood that sound, a wave, could not travel through a vacuum, whereas light, also a wave, could.
Why?
At first, most scientists believed that the very fact that light is transmitted through space means that space must not be empty. They knew it didn’t have air, as on Earth, but they suggested it was filled with another substance, which they called the ether. But this fictitious substance did not long vex physicists. A series of experiments in the late nineteenth century made it clear that ether didn’t exist and that although light could be studied as a wave, it was a different kind of wave than, say, sound.

Black Hole's Secrets Revealed

2008-05-03T01:02:00.000-07:00

Many galaxies have super-massive black holes at their core, which expel powerful jets of particles at nearly the speed of light. Using the National Radio Astronomy Observatory's very long baseline array, scientists recently confirmed the leading theory, according to which the particles are accelerated by tightly-twisted magnetic fields close to the black hole.

Just how the powerful particle jets are emitted from black holes was one of the big mysteries of astrophysics. The confirmation of the leading theory, according to which the particles are accelerated by magnetic fields, required an elusive close-up view of the particle jet's inner throat. Astronomers managed to observe the material winding in a corkscrew outward path thanks to the high resolution of the National Radio Astronomy Observatory's very long baseline array (VLBA), an observation that supports the magnetic field theory.

The international team studied a galaxy named BL Lacertae (BL Lac), situated some 950 million light-years away from Earth. BL Lac is a blazar, the most energetic type of black-hole-powered galactic core. Super-massive black holes in galaxies' cores power jets of particles and intense radiation in similar objects, including quasars and seyfert galaxies. The scientists chose to focus on the BL Lacertae Galaxy because of the high rate in which the phenomena occur in that region.

According to the theory, the phenomena occur in stages. When material is pulled inward towards the black hole, it forms a flattened, rotating disk, called an accretion disk. As the material moves from the outer edge of the disk inward, magnetic field lines perpendicular to the disk are twisted, forming a tightly-coiled bundle. Astronomers believe that this 'bundle' propels and confines the ejected particles. Closer to the black hole, space itself, including the magnetic fields, is twisted by the strong gravitational pull and rotation of the black hole, causing the emission of the particles.

Theorists have several predictions concerning material and light in these situations. The first speculation is that material moving outward in this close-in acceleration region will follow a corkscrew-shaped path inside the bundle of twisted magnetic fields. The second prediction is that light and other radiation emitted by the moving material will brighten when its rotating path is aimed most directly towards Earth.

When the team observed an outburst from BL Lac, Alan Marscher of Boston University, who led the team, said that: "That behavior is exactly what we saw." During the numerous observations, the astronomers noticed that as the material sped out from the neighborhood of the black hole, the VLBA could pinpoint its location. Other telescopes measured the properties of the radiation emitted from the knot. It appears that the theories are very precise: bright bursts of light, X-rays, and gamma rays occurred when the knot was at the exact locations predicted by the theories. In addition, the alignment of the radio and light waves (a property called polarization) rotated as the knot wound its corkscrew path inside the tight throat of twisted magnetic fields. According to Marscher, this observation gave the researchers an unprecedented view of the inner portion of one of these jets, and therefore, they gained information critical to the understanding of how these particle accelerators work.

Obviously, the researchers were excited about the new discovery. "We have gotten the clearest look yet at the innermost portion of the jet, where the particles actually are accelerated, and everything we see supports the idea that twisted, coiled magnetic fields are propelling the material outward," Marscher said. It is evident that this is a major advance in the understanding of a remarkable process which occurs throughout the Universe.

TFOT has reported on images of the Triangulum Galaxy, which were captured during over 11 hours of exposure time, and on the discovery of the building blocks of life in space, made using NASA's Spitzer Space Telescope. Other related TFOT stories are the detection of the largest known comet outburst and a new explanation of the way the Peruvian Meteorite made it to Earth, given by an expert in extraterrestrial impacts from Brown University.

Electronic Radiation as Waves

2008-05-03T00:55:00.000-07:00

We can understand how electromagnetic radiation is transmitted through space if we appreciate that it involves waves. What is a wave? The first image that probably jumps to mind is that of ocean waves. And ocean waves do have some aspects in common with the kind of waves that we use to describe electromagnetic radiation. One way to think of a wave is that it is a way for energy to be transmitted from one place to another without any physical matter being moved from place to place. Or you may think of a wave as a disturbance that carries energy and that occurs in a distinctive and repeating pattern. A row boat out in the ocean will move up and down in a regular way as waves pass it. The waves do transmit energy to the shore (think of beach erosion), but the row boat will stay put.
That regular up-and-down motion that the rowboat experiences is called harmonic motion. But there are two important differences with electromagnetic radiation: The sources of waves are things on atomic scales (electrons and the nuclei of atoms), and no medium is required for electromagnetic waves to travel through space. The “pond” of space consists only of electric and magnetic fields, and photons of light are ripples in that ghostly pond.
Waves come in various shapes, but they all have a common anatomy. They have crests and troughs, which are, respectively, the high points above and low points below the level of an undisturbed state (for example, calm water). The distance from crest to crest (or trough to trough) is called the wavelength of the wave. The height of the wave—that is, the distance from the level of the undisturbed state to the crest of the wave—is its amplitude. The amount of time it takes for a wave to repeat itself at any point in space is its period.
In other words, the period is the time between the passage of wave crests as seen by an observer in the bobbing row boat. The number of wave crests that pass a given point during a given unit of time is called the frequency of the wave. If many crests pass a point in a short period of time, we have a high-frequency wave. If few pass that point in the same amount of time, we have a low-frequencywave. The frequency and wavelength of a wave are inversely proportional to one another, meaning that as one gets bigger, the other gets smaller. High frequency radiation has short wavelengths.

Understanding Facts about Electromagnetic Radiation

2008-05-03T00:51:00.000-07:00

Electromagnetic radiation sounds like dangerous stuff—and, in fact, some of it is. But that the word radiation need not set off sirens in your head. It just describes any way energy is transmitted from one place to another without the need for a physical connection between the two places. We use it as a general term to describe any form of light. It is important that radiation can travel without any physical connection, because space is essentially a vacuum; that is, much of it is empty. If you went on a space walk clicking a pair of castanets, no one, including you, would hear your little concert. Sound is transmitted in waves, but not as radiation. Sound waves require some medium to travel in. So despite what most science fiction movies would lead you to believe, explosions in space are silent. Light (and other forms of electromagnetic radiation) requires no such medium to travel, although many physicists tried in vain to detect a medium, which they called the ether. We’ll talk more about this fact in a moment.
The electromagnetic part of the phrase denotes the fact that the energy is conveyed in the form of fluctuating electric and magnetic fields. These fields require no medium to support or sustain them.

Young galaxies are a star-packed puzzle

2008-04-30T03:44:00.000-07:00

These images taken by NASA's Hubble Space Telescope show nine compact, ultradense galaxies as they appeared 11 billion years ago.

By SPACE.com Staff
Several newfound galaxies seen as they existed when the universe was young are packed with improbable numbers of stars.

Astronomers don't know what's going on.

The nine galaxies are 11 billion light-years away, which means the light astronomers are looking at left the galaxies 11 billion years ago, when the universe was less than 3 billion years old.

Each of the newly studied galaxies weighs about 200 billion times the mass of the sun yet is a mere 5,000 light-years across. Our Milky Way Galaxy is a fraction of that heft at roughly 3 million times the sun's mass, and yet it stretches across 100,000 light-years of space.

The compact galaxies have been furiously forming stars; each contains as many stars as a typical large galaxy of today, the new observations reveal.

"Seeing the compact sizes of these galaxies is a puzzle," said Pieter G. van Dokkum of Yale University, who led the study. "No massive galaxy at this distance has ever been observed to be so compact."

Since no modern galaxies — galaxies in the nearby universe — are so compact, the scientists assume compact galaxies from the early universe must have gotten much larger as they matured beyond the snapshots of ancient time now being studied. But nobody knows how.

"They would have to change a lot over 11 billion years, growing five times bigger," van Dokkum said. "They could get larger by colliding with other galaxies, but such collisions may not be the complete answer."

Astronomers used NASA's Hubble Space Telescope and the W.M. Keck Observatory on Mauna Kea, Hawaii to make the new observations, which were announced today and were detailed in the April 10 issue of the Astrophysical Journal Letters.

Van Dokkum and his colleagues had previously studied the galaxies in 2006 with the Gemini South Telescope to determine their distances, and showed that the stars are a half a billion to a billion years old. The most massive stars had already exploded as supernovae.

One reason these galaxies were so dense, van Dokkum suggested, involves the interaction of dark matter and hydrogen gas in the nascent universe. Dark matter is an invisible form of matter that accounts for most of the universe's mass. Shortly after the theoretical Big Bang, the universe contained an uneven landscape of dark matter. Hydrogen gas became trapped in puddles of the invisible material, the thinking goes, and began spinning rapidly in dark matter's gravitational whirlpool, forming stars at a furious rate.

Based on the galaxies' mass, the astronomers estimated that the stars are spinning around their galactic disks at roughly 890,000 to 1 million mph (400 to 500 kilometers a second). Stars in today's galaxies, by contrast, are traveling at about half that speed because the setups are larger and rotate more slowly.

Copyright 2007, SPACE.com Inc. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

About Light

2008-04-30T03:38:00.000-07:00

The light we receive from distant sources is generated on the tiniest of scales. To explore the largest objects, such as galaxies, we have to first understand the smallest of objects, atoms and the particles making up atoms. The photons that we detect with our eyes and catch with our telescopes were generated in many different ways: sometimes by electrons hopping between different orbital levels in an atom, or other times by the energetic collisions of atomic nuclei. We now explore the ways in which photons of light arise, how they get from there to here, and what they can tell us about the objects that we observe.
We have concentrated thus far on optical photons (the ones that we can see with our eyes). As it turns out, our eyes respond to “visible” wavelengths because that is where the peak of the emission from the sun is located in the electromagnetic spectrum. If our eyes were most sensitive to infrared radiation, for example, we would see some things we can’t now see (body heat), but would miss a lot of other useful stuff. In this chapter, we’re going to talk more about visible light and the electromagnetic spectrum, of which visible light is a tiny subset. Think of it this way: If the electromagnetic spectrum is represented by a piano keyboard, then the visible part of the spectrum is but a single key or note. In the cosmic symphony, there are many notes, and we want to be able to hear them all. If you’re concerned that this sounds more like physics than astronomy, you’re right. But don’t be intimidated. Most of astronomy involves applications of physics principles, and we are convinced that understanding what you are seeing when you look at a star greatly enhances the experience of looking. Remember this astounding fact : When you look at the light from our sun or a distant star, you are witnessing the product of nuclear fusion reactions that are, every second, releasing more energy than any atomic explosion Earth has ever witnessed. Yet it is not just brute energy, but also information from the sky. Let’s take a closer look.

Don’t Look Too Hard

2008-04-30T03:33:00.000-07:00

Next, relax. Don’t look too hard. We mean this as sincere and literal advice. Your eye’s sharpest color vision is in the center of your field of view. This is where color-receptor neurons known as cones are most densely concentrated. However, so-called rods, the visual receptors sensitive to black, white, and shades of gray, while insensitive to color, are more sensitive than cones to low levels of light. This means you can actually better see fainter objects with your peripheral vision than with your center-field vision. Learn to look askance at the stars. This practice is sometimes called “averted vision.” Using it, you will typically see fainter stars.
Peering through a telescope for extended periods is fun, but it can also be fatiguing. Don’t squint. Don’t peer. Step away from your telescope periodically to walk around. Relax and enjoy.
You’ll enjoy your astronomy sessions more, as well as reduce fatigue, if you practice keeping both eyes open when you look through the eyepiece. If you can’t resist the urge to close one eye, buy a pirate’s eye patch from the local toy store or costume shop. Then you can keep both eyes open without distraction and even feel like a real celestial navigator. A parrot on the shoulder is optional.

Hubble telescope captures crashing galaxies

2008-04-24T18:58:00.000-07:00

WASHINGTON (Reuters) - Images of colliding galaxies show them spinning, sliding and slipping into one another, wreaking stellar destruction that will give birth to new and larger galaxies.

The Maryland-based Space Telescope Science Institute released 59 new images from the Hubble Space Telescope on Thursday to celebrate the 18th anniversary of its launch.

"This new Hubble atlas dramatically illustrates how galaxy collisions produce a remarkable variety of intricate structures in never-before-seen detail," the Institute said in a statement.

"Astronomers observe only one out of a million galaxies in the nearby universe in the act of colliding. However, galaxy mergers were much more common long ago when they were closer together, because the expanding universe was smaller."

The color images, available online, are a look back in time. It takes hundreds of millions of years for galaxies to merge and the light from their stars has traveled for hundreds of millions of years across space.

Because it orbits outside the Earth's atmosphere, Hubble's cameras can take extremely sharp images.

Its future was controversial, as it requires regular servicing by space shuttle astronauts to stay in working condition.

After the 2003 Columbia space shuttle disaster, a servicing mission initially planned for 2004 was canceled.

NASA at one point was planning to abandon the telescope, hugely popular among astronomers. After an outcry, the U.S. space agency relented and a final Hubble servicing mission is scheduled for August.
In 2013, the James Webb Space Telescope is scheduled to replace Hubble

Low-Light Adjustment

2008-04-24T18:50:00.000-07:00

You have some learning to get under your belt, but right now, neophyte that you are, you can do something to enhance your experience. Unless you are looking at the bright moon, don’t rush to the eyepiece until you have allowed your vision to become “dark adapted.” This natural adjustment will greatly enhance your ability to see faint objects—and it will make brighter objects that much more exciting. Adapting your eyes to the dark requires about 15 minutes away from sources of light. If somebody shines an uncovered flashlight in your eyes, you’ll have to become dark adapted all over again. Red light, however, will not reverse dark adaptation. For those on liberal budgets, there are specially made, compact flashlights with red bulbs. For the rest of us, either equip your flashlight with a dark red filter (you can use red acetate purchased from a hobby shop) or (less effectively) simply put a red sock over the flashlight. This way, you’ll be able to see what you are doing and even consult star maps without spoiling your dark adaptation.

Learning to See

2008-04-24T18:48:00.000-07:00

Understandably, you will be eager to try out your new telescope. Here are a few words of advice: Expect to be thrilled—immediately—by the spectacle of the moon, with its sharply delineated craters and mountains. Point your telescope elsewhere, however, and you may be disappointed—at least until you learn more about what to look for. We have become spoiled by dazzling images from the Hubble Space Telescope, orbiting above our atmosphere and toting the most sophisticated instruments available. No, your telescope won’t duplicate the performance of Hubble. But the point is that it is your telescope, and the photons of light that left the Orion Nebula are striking your retina. The experience is yours.

Your first impulse may be to blame any disappointment you feel on your telescope. Resist the impulse. As you learn what to look for—and as you come to appreciate the significance of what you see—you will derive great satisfaction from your instrument.

The Race to Save the Hubble Telescope

2008-04-20T22:27:00.000-07:00

ABC News has been given unprecedented access to the astronauts, scientists and engineers involved in the intensive — and some say risky — shuttle mission to repair the Hubble Space Telescope later this year.

Time is running out for Hubble. If its batteries and gyroscopes aren't replaced soon, the most famous of space telescopes will simply quit functioning.

If all goes well, the Space Shuttle Atlantis mission, dubbed STS 125, will launch in August to service Hubble. ABC News will follow the crew as it trains for this mission.

This will be the last time a space shuttle visits Hubble. Everyone involved knows they must make every single minute of the mission count to ensure Hubble will continue to explore the universe until the replacement Webb telescope can be launched sometime in the next decade.

What makes this mission risky?

Unlike most recent shuttle missions, this one will not be docking at the International Space Station. If Atlantis encounters an emergency, Hubble's orbit is so far from the space station, that the Atlantis crew will not be able to reach it.

But NASA is ready with an unprecedented backup plan. For the first time, when the Atlantis astronauts launch to repair Hubble, a second shuttle will already be on the other launch pad at the Kennedy Space Center, ready to go within days if its colleagues on the Hubble mission encounter a problem.

It is easy to see why the Hubble mission is the most talked about mission of the year at NASA and overshadows the global effort to build the International Space Station.

Hubble is the telescope that can look back in time; the space station is still a construction project, albeit one of the most complicated ever undertaken.

Just what kind of allure does the Hubble Space Telescope have that the International Space Station doesn't? Apollo 7 astronaut Walt Cunningham says it's all about perception.

"The International Space Station is the most incredible engineering achievement in history. It exceeds the Panama Canal or the pyramids if you will, but it doesn't capture the public's fancy, because it looks like a truck driving back and forth delivering construction materials," he said.

Hubble was deployed in 1990, and it wasn't an instant hit. Its first images were blurry because of an embarrassing failure to notice that the shape of the telescope's primary mirror was not accurate.

A daring space shuttle mission to install corrective lenses fixed that in 1993. That troubled beginning is part of its mystique, according to Sandra Faber of the University of California at Santa Cruz.

"It was such a disaster, but it was like chestnuts pulled out of the fire at the last minute. It is the ultimate American can-do story," she said.

And oh what Hubble can do! Hubble has allowed scientists to estimate the age of the universe — 14 billion years.

Faber points to Hubble's discoveries about galaxies. "First and foremost for me as [a] student of galaxy formation, Hubble was the first telescope to look back in time and show us infant galaxies, in the process of being born. That's a first. To use a telescope as a time machine looking back billions of years — that is a terrific legacy."

Matt Mountain, director of the Hubble Space Telescope, says the telescope's popularity is simple to explain.

"It allows us to see the universe in a way we don't have to explain. A picture is worth 1,000 words and so we look back in time at some of the earliest galaxies," he said.

"What we deliver back are stunning images of these fairly early galaxies," Mountain said. "And so we can't disassociate science from the image because there's actually great meaning in the science and the public actually engages in that when they look at these great pictures."

Steve Hawley is one of the astronauts who deployed Hubble. He is also an astronomer and thinks he understands why Hubble resonates with so many people.

"The pictures are breathtaking; the science discoveries are mind boggling. I will be sitting next to someone on an airplane and they will ask me what do I do, and I say I work for NASA and they'll say 'oh NASA,' and they think the shuttle goes to the moon and we launch from Houston but they know about Hubble."

What makes people remember Hubble when they aren't ordinarily interested in space? Hawley has wondered about that.

"Whatever it turns out to be we need to learn that lesson because we need to apply it to other things we are doing. If it's the pictures, if it's the drama is, you know you can always pick up the paper and read something new Hubble has done, maybe people think they are getting value for their tax dollars, but as far as I know we never really studied it, or asked someone who knows how to do that kind of thing to study it, and tell us what it really was about Hubble that people found so appealing."

Largest Telescope Would Be Out of this World

2008-04-20T22:11:00.000-07:00

By Jeremy Hsu
16 April 2008
A telescope on the far side of the moon could probe the "dark ages" of the universe while blocking out the radio-wavelength noise of Earth civilizations.

Up to one hundred thousand antennas would form the Dark Ages Lunar Interferometer (DALI), the largest telescope ever built, and allow astronomers to hear faint whispering signals from a time when no stars even existed.

"This will look at one of the most fundamental questions ever conceived, back when the universe was made up almost entirely of hydrogen and helium — no stars, no galaxies," said Kurt Weiler, senior astronomer at the U.S. Naval Research Laboratory.

The so-called dark ages of astronomy describe a half-billion year period following the Big Bang when clouds of ionized gas cooled as the universe expanded. The only faint noise came from hydrogen atoms doing spin-flips, which gives off radio-wavelength signals that astronomers can pick up on. Scientists currently estimate that the universe is about 13.7 billion years old.

"What happens is that because of the Big Bang there's a background glow," Weiler noted. "The spin-flip will absorb the glow of the older material and will give us a signature that we can see."

However, the ongoing expansion of the universe has stretched or red-shifted the hydrogen signature from just 21 centimeters to several meters. That means the signals can easily get masked by louder Earth transmissions in the same wavelength, unless astronomers find a quieter listening spot.

"The back side of the moon is the only place in the local universe shielded from manmade transmissions," Weiler told SPACE.com.

The DALI design resembles existing radio telescope arrays in the Netherlands, Australia, and New Mexico. But sending such an array to the moon requires lighter material that can save on launch costs, not to mention survive the harsh lunar conditions.

One candidate is polyimide, a plastic-like film which can act as an antenna when plated with metal. University of Colorado researchers are testing the film's durability by exposing it to harsh ultraviolet rays, as well as the extreme temperatures like that of boiling water and super-cold liquid nitrogen.

The film antennas would be rolled up and then unrolled for deployment across 30 miles (48 km) of lunar surface, arrayed in one thousand stations containing one hundred antennas each. Still, getting the entire load to the moon represents a challenge.

"Even though each antenna may weigh a few ounces, you're talking about needing at least heavy lift vehicles," Weiler noted. "They all add up fast."

The U.S. Naval Research Laboratory is sharing NASA funding with an MIT-based team working on another lunar telescope separate from DALI. Their collaboration may finally realize a dream that many astronomers had even before the first Apollo landings on the moon.

"Probing the dark ages presents the opportunity to watch the young Universe evolve," said Joseph Lazio, NRL astronomer and head of the DALI proposal. "Just as current cosmological studies have both fascinated and surprised us, I anticipate that DALI will lead both to increased understanding of the Universe and unexpected discoveries."

How to Find What You’re Looking For?

2008-04-20T22:09:00.000-07:00

If your new telescope has go-to capability, all you need to do is follow the manufacturer’s instructions for initially training the instrument and then use the go-to controller to point your telescope at whatever you wish to view. Bear in mind, of course, that light pollution or other atmospheric conditions may obscure your view. Go-to technology is wonderful, but it can’t work miracles. It will point you in the right direction, but it can’t guarantee that you’ll always see what you’re looking for. If your instrument does not have a go-to controller, glance back at Chapter 1, which introduces the idea of celestial coordinates and altazimuth coordinates as well as the utility of constellations as celestial landmarks. Later chapters have more to say about finding specific objects. What you should familiarize yourself with now, however, is the finderscope affixed to the side of your telescope. Unless you have a rich-field telescope, commanding about a three- or four-degree slice of the sky, you will find it almost impossible to locate with the main telescope anything you happen to see with your naked eye. (“There’s Venus! But why can’t I find it with this #^$%@% telescope!?”) Take the time and effort to follow what your instruction manual says about adjusting the finderscope so that it can be used to locate objects quickly. This adjustment should take just a few minutes and can be done in daylight; once it’s done, it’s done (at least until you or someone else bumps the finder out of alignment). In any case, the alignment process is far less tedious and frustrating than trying to sight with your naked eye along the telescope tube and then just hoping you can finally find what you’re looking for.
Another option is called a Telrad Reflex Sight. Many amateurs use one of these—an inexpensive “bullseye” on the sky. In many ways, this product is even more helpful than a finderscope.

Light Pollution and What to Do About It

2008-04-20T22:06:00.000-07:00

Light pollution is the obscuring of celestial objects by artificial light sources.
What do you do about it?
You avoid city lights, if you can. The recent trend toward those peach-colored, highpressure, sodium-vapor and bluish metal-halide streetlights may make some people feel safer, but the lamps have also greatly increased light pollution, even in smaller urban areas.
Here are some ways to reduce the effects of light pollution:

Rise above the streetlights. Set up your telescope on a hill or a safe roof. The cumulative effect of the streetlights will still blot out many of the less bright objects, especially near the horizon, but at least you won’t be trying to look up through the nearest streetlights.
Study the sky in a direction away from light sources. If your city’s downtown area is east of your location, look west rather than east.
Get out of town. Scout out some rural retreats away from the city lights but sufficiently clear of trees to allow reasonably unobstructed viewing. Local state parks are often a good option. It may be best to choose parks that offer overnight camping, since some public parks are open only from dawn to dusk. Don’t trespass!
If you get very interested in observing, you can purchase filters for your telescope that will block out a good portion of the light pollution caused by streetlights. Such filters are available from Meade Instruments, Orion, and other suppliers. Be aware, however, that these filters are most useful for astrophotography or digital imaging and are less effective if your primary imaging device is your own retina. Also, all filters block light, dimming the image you see; so small-aperture telescopes will suffer most from this side effect.
Write your local city government and encourage officials to install lowpressure, downward-facing sodium lamps. These lights have a yellowish glow and are highly energy efficient. You can get many good ideas on how to reduce light pollution from the International Dark Sky Association (find more at www. darksky.org/).

Unless you live in a nest of searchlights, there should still be enough for a beginner to see.

How to Become an Astrophotographer?

2008-04-20T22:03:00.000-07:00

Once you get hooked on looking through a telescope, sooner or later you’re going to want to start recording what you see. One very enjoyable activity is to make drawings, but many serious amateurs sooner or later turn to photography. Astrophotography can be done with any good single-lens reflex (SLR) camera, the right kind of adapter to mate it with your telescope, and a sturdy tripod and mount with a tracking motor to compensate for the rotation of the earth during the long exposures are usually necessary.

As digital technology has greatly simplified and expanded the possibilities of finding objects in space, it has also simplified and expanded the field of professional as well as amateur astrophotography. We discussed how charge-coupled devices (CCDs) have largely replaced conventional photographic film for most astronomical imaging through major earth-based telescopes as well as such space-based instruments as the Hubble Space Telescope. Just as, in recent years, the cost of go-to technology has been greatly reduced, so now is digital imaging within the reach of serious amateurs. The operative word is “serious.” Meade’s Pictor 1616XTE CCD system costs more than $6,000, but the more “entry-level” Pictor 415XTE comes in at just under $2,000. And a very respectable camera from the Santa Barbara Instrument Group (SBIG) called the SBIG ST7 can be purchased (at the time of this writing) for under $3,000. It is likely that, over the years, the cost of CCD imaging will fall even further.

If you are interested in astrophotography, whether using conventional film or with CCD imaging, check out Michael A. Covington’s excellent Astrophotography for the Amateur (Cambridge University Press, 1999) or Jeffrey R. Charles’s Practical Astrophotography (Springer Verlag, 2000)

I’ve Bought My Telescope, Now What?

2008-04-20T22:00:00.000-07:00

Many subsequent chapters contain advice on observing various celestial objects, but for now, having bought your telescope (and having assembled it; typically, some assembly is required), what do you do with it?
In two words: Use it.
You don’t need a plan, but many first-time sky watchers christen their new telescope by looking at the moon. A more original inaugural journey begins by marking out an interesting-looking piece of sky for yourself and studying it. Find what you can. Later, we’ll talk about recording what you see.
Another good way to start is to go to your local library and check out Astronomy or Sky & Telescope magazine. Both of these periodicals (and their online equivalents) include a guide to the night sky in their center section every month, and you can check to see if there are any planets in the sky or which constellations are up. Also see Appendix E, “Sources for Astronomers,” for recommended guidebooks. An interesting second activity is to locate another piece of sky—one that looks almost empty—and try to find dim and distant objects. Test the limits of your new telescope and your own eyesight. Notice how many more stars you see with your finder telescope, which has a larger aperture than your eye, and then notice how many stars you see in your main telescope.

The Go-To Revolution

2008-04-08T17:34:00.000-07:00

Books on amateur astronomy used to supply only two important pieces of advice about tripods and mounts.
First: Don’t cheap out. Invest in something sturdy and steady.
Second: Choose between an altazimuth mount and an equatorial mount. The simple altazimuth mount is adjustable on two axes: up and down (altitude) and left and right (movement parallel to the horizon, or azimuth). There is nothing automatic about most altazimuth mounts. If you are trying to follow an object, you must continually adjust both the altitude and the azimuth. The alternative equatorial mount is aligned with the earth’s rotational axis and, therefore, may be made to follow a celestial object by adjusting one axis only (to counteract the rotation of the earth).

These two pieces of advice used to be quite sufficient. In the late 1990s, however, popular manufactures started selling even some entry-level telescopes with go-to computer controllers that drive servo-motors built into the telescope mount. The handheld go-to controller stores a database of the locations of thousands of celestial objects. Select a object or punch it its coordinates, and (if properly trained and aligned) the telescope’s servos will point the telescope at your target object.

In addition to servo motors for go-to capability, equatorial and altazimuth mounts typically include a clock drive that synchronizes the telescope with the earth’s rotation so that a given object can be followed—“tracked”—without your having continually to re-aim the telescope.
Go-to capability can work on telescopes that have either altazimuth or equatorial mounts. For example, the go-to features on the Meade ETX 90EC telescope can be used in either equatorial or altazimuth mode. One just has to be careful that the computer has been informed of your choice (usually accomplished on the setup menu). The amazing thing is that go-to technology has become sufficiently affordable to be included in even entry-level telescopes. This feature has truly revolutionized amateur astronomy, greatly broadening its appeal. Keep in mind that the “go-to” hand paddle must typically be purchased as an accessory, and will cost several hundred dollars itself. If this capability is important to you, you should buy a telescope that can be updated at a later time.

Dobsonians: More for Your Money?

2008-04-08T17:30:00.000-07:00

During the 1970s, an avid amateur astronomer named John Dobson began building large, standard Newtonian reflectors (10-inch mirrors were typical) and cutting costs by mounting them not on elaborate and expensive equatorial mounts but on inexpensive altazimuth mounts. Dollars were invested in optics and aperture—lightgathering ability—rather than in fancy mounting hardware and clock drives to aid in tracking objects. The result was a powerful reflecting telescope with a wide field of view.

Very nice Dobsonians can be purchased in the $300 to $1,000 range, or you could see if your local amateur astronomy club offers workshops in making your own telescope. Many astronomy club members make their own Dobsonians. Is there a Dobsonian downside? Some users find the simple altazimuth mount—which lacks the ability to track objects—too limiting.

Maksutov-Cassegrain: New Market Leader

2008-04-08T17:26:00.000-07:00

Like the Schmidt-Cassegrain telescopes, the Maksutov-Cassegrain is a catadioptric design; however, these newer instruments optimize imaging performance by combining a special spherical meniscus (concave) lens with two mirrors. The secondary mirror multiplies the focal length of the telescope. The combined effect of the concave lens, the aspherical primary mirror, and the convex secondary mirror produces a telescope that is almost as well suited to lunar and planetary observation as a refractor, yet it has many of the reflector’s advantages for deep-space viewing. These qualities are similar to the conventional Schmidt-Cassegrain design, but the Maksutov-Cassegrain variation tends to yield images of greater contrast than one gets from telescopes of the earlier design.

A 7-inch Maksutov is significantly more expensive than an 8-inch Schmidt-Cassegrain; however, Meade has marketed for some years now two extremely popular small Maksutov models, the ETX-90EC and ETX-125EC (90 mm and 125 mm, respectively), which trade aperture for price. The 90-mm model can be purchased for under $500, and the 125-mm model for less than $900.

Diagram of a Maksutov-Cassegrain telescope. Light enters the concave lens at the right and is reflected by the aspheric primary mirror at the left, which sends it back to the spherical secondary mirror on the right. This, in turn, focuses the image on the focal plane on the left.

Schmidt-Cassegrain: High-Performance Hybrid

2008-04-04T03:40:00.000-07:00

Also called a catadioptric telescope, the Schmidt-Cassegrain design combines mirrors and lenses. Telescopes of this design are an increasingly popular choice for serious amateurs and introductory astronomy classes. The light passes through a corrector lens before it strikes the primary mirror, which reflects it to a secondary mirror. Since light bounces down the tube an extra time, the focal length of the telescope is effectively doubled, belying the very compact—wide but short and stubby—look of the instrument. A long effective focal length means that these telescopes can have a high magnification (remember that magnification is the ratio of objective focal length to eyepiece focal length) without a cumbersome long tube. Schmidt-Cassegrain telescopes are elegant instruments that offer some of the compactness of rich-field instruments but are much more powerful. The catch?

Diagram of a Schmidt-Cassegrain, or catadioptric, telescope. Light enters from the left and is focused by the primary mirror at the back of the telescope. Then it is refocused by a secondary mirror and sent out through an opening in the primary mirror to an eyepiece at the rear of the telescope.

These are usually more expensive amateur instruments, typically priced from $900 to much, much more, depending on aperture size and features. The portability of the Schmidt-Cassegrain design is a very big plus—not just because a compact telescope is easier to transport, but also because it is easier to keep a small scope stable during use.

Rich-Field Telescopes: Increasing in Popularity

2008-04-04T03:38:00.000-07:00

Worth investigating is a relatively new category of telescope. Ultra compact and reasonably priced, rich-field reflectors are typically handheld with a Newtonian focus. What they have in common is a short-tube design that offers low degrees of magnification but a bright, wide field of view (typically a few degrees). They range in price from about $250 to $400 and can weigh as little as 4 or 5 pounds. Highly portable and relatively rugged, these telescopes nevertheless have the disadvantage that, since they are handheld, they do not track with objects in the sky, and are only as steady as you are. The great advantages of these telescopes, besides price, are their portability and the brightness of the image they deliver.

Refractor and Reflector

2008-04-04T03:00:00.000-07:00

Refractor
Most astronomers agree that a good refractor is the instrument of choice for viewing the moon and the planets. Typically, the refractor’s field is narrow, which enhances the contrast offered by good optics and brings out the details of such things as the lunar surface and planetary detail.
Refractors, however, are not the best choice for deep-sky work—looking at dim galaxies, for example. They are great for bright objects, but a refracting telescope with the same light-collecting ability of a decent reflecting telescope would be prohibitively expensive.
Some of the cheapest, mass-market telescopes are refractors, but most of these will perform poorly. Most good refractors are long, heavy, and expensive—although the recently introduced Meade ETX-60AT and ETX-70AT are compact yet high-quality entry-level instruments. The disadvantage of expense is obvious, as is that of weight: You’ll be discouraged from taking the telescope with you on trips to the dark skies of the country. Length poses a less obvious problem. The longer the tube, the less inherently steady the telescope. A large refractor requires a very firm mount and tripod.

Reflectors
Traditionally, the Newtonian reflector has been the most popular telescope with experienced amateurs, although, in recent years, affordable Schmidt-Cassegrain and Maksutov-Cassegrain instruments have found increasing favor. Generally, a reflector gives you more aperture—and thus more light—for your dollar than a refractor, and the reflector’s mirror is not subject to chromatic aberration (the differences in the ways various colors, especially red and blue, are focused), which all but the most expensive refractor lenses suffer from. Although reflectors may be large, they are generally lighter than refractors; however, they tend not to be as robust, and unlike a good refracting telescope, they do require at least some minimal maintenance to realign optical components occasionally.

What Will Telescope Cost?

2008-03-30T08:50:00.000-07:00

Amateur telescopes come in a wide range of prices, from a low of under $200 to a high of $5,000 and more, much more. There really is no upper limit. Someone out there will be happy to take as much money as you’d care to spend. In fact, the Beck Telescope (a Cassegrain-focus telescope with a 30” diameter primary mirror) located in Bradley Observatory at Agnes Scott College was originally owned privately by one Henry Gibson, who had it housed in a dome near his house. He sold the telescope to the College in 1947 for $15,000—a lot of money back then! The beginner need not invest in the four-digit range; however, spending less than about $300 on a new telescope (except in the case of certain rich-field instruments, which we will get to shortly) is likely to result in disappointment.

If you’ve been hitting the malls and looking at telescopes in department stores, camera stores, hobby shops, and even some optical stores, you may be surprised that most of the instruments you’ve seen will not provide you with a satisfying observing experience. The market is full of telescopes in the $100 to sub-$300 range—and they sell! But they’re mostly not worth their “bargain” prices. That’s not a subjective judgment. It’s a cold, hard fact. Here are some typical attributes of cheap telescopes:

A cheap, wobbly mount. If the view wiggles, you will have a very frustrating time looking at the sky, especially if there is the slightest breeze, or you bump the telescope trying to focus the image. We’ll discuss mounts in just a few minutes, but be aware that a shoddy equatorial mount is inferior to a simpler altazimuth mount—if that mount is steady and well made.
A telescope that trumpets its magnification but makes little or no mention of its aperture. Aperture, the diameter of the telescope’s objective lens (if it’s a refractor) or primary mirror (if it’s a reflector), determines how much light you will be able to collect. After you get tired of looking at the moon, you’ll find yourself increasingly interested in the dimmer objects of the night sky. Buy the largest aperture you can afford; aperture size and component quality are far more important than magnification numbers. A 2.75-inch (70 mm) aperture is a very good minimum for a refractor, and a 4-inch (100 mm) aperture is a good minimum for a reflector. Excellent Maksutov-Cassegrain instruments start at 90 mm, but the entry-level Schmidt-Cassegrain is a 5-inch model.
Poor optical quality. Stars should focus as bright, sharp points of light, not smears, blurs, or flares. Unfortunately, it is rarely possible to field test a telescope before you buy it, so purchase only an instrument that comes with a noquestions-asked return policy. Put the telescope through its paces by focusing on a reasonably bright star. You may want to find Altair, Betelgeuse or Arcturus, for example. On a night with good seeing, the star should focus to a clean point. Next, using the highest magnification, slightly unfocus the image by turning the focus knob first one way and then the other. With good optics that are properly collimated (the optical elements made perfectly parallel with one another), the out-of-focus image will look the same regardless of which way you turn the knob. If the two out-of-focus images are significantly different, the optical collimation is poor.
Small eyepiece. The modern standard for an eyepiece barrel diameter is 1.25”. Two-inch diameter eyepieces are common on larger, more expensive telescopes (14” diameter mirrors and greater). A short-barrel eyepiece can restrict the field of view at low power and is generally a sign of an inferior telescope.
A junk finderscope. The finderscope (or finder)—the small telescope attached to the side of the main telescope—is very important for locating the objects you wish to study, especially if your telescope lacks go-to capability. An inferior scope is of little use. Look for one with an aperture of at least 30 millimeters. Also make sure the bracket that mounts the finder is easily, firmly, and accurately adjustable. You’ll need to align the finderscope with the main instrument frequently. You may want to also replace the factory finderscope with a “bullseye” on the sky, powered typically by a small red LED.
Obscure and/or skimpy instructions. Not only is a clear and ample manual an important aid to using and enjoying a telescope, it is a sign of the quality of thought that has gone into making the instrument.

Telescope shopping advice

2008-03-30T08:46:00.000-07:00

Here are a few words of shopping advice—much of which applies to telescopes as well:

Examine and feel the binoculars. They should strike you as a well-crafted precision instrument.
Test the focusing mechanism. It should be smooth and offer steady resistance.
Look for antireflection coating on all lenses. This thin coating will make the lenses appear blue, yellow, magenta, or purple when held at an angle to the light.
Look through the binoculars. Try focusing on a point of light (a distant bulb, for example). It should be absolutely sharp, at least until the point of light gets very near the edge of the field of view.
Focus on a vertical straight line such as the corner of a building. Even with very good binoculars, the straight line will bend at the extreme edges of your field of view. However, if the line remains bent a third of the way from the edge, the quality of the optics is poor.
The twin barrels of binoculars must be perfectly parallel with one another. If they aren’t, you will see a double image. Your eyes will work hard to compensate and fuse that double image, but ideally, there should be no double image to fuse.

Do You Really Need a Telescope?

2008-03-30T08:42:00.000-07:00

Few experiences with the night sky are more instantly rewarding than your first look at the moon, a nebula, or a planet through a telescope. Saturn, in particular, can look almost too perfect. One of us taught students (while in graduate school) who refused to believe that the planet that they were looking at through the telescope was real. This student insisted that Saturn was a sticker on the telescope lens. However, it is also true that such an experience can be singularly disappointing if that shiny new telescope you bought at the mall turns out to be a piece of wobbly, hard-to-use junk. If you are willing to invest in a good telescope (we’ll talk about the magnitude of the investment in just a moment), and if you are willing to invest the time to learn how to use it, a telescope can be a wonderful thing to have.
But will you use it?
If you are an urban dweller who never escapes the streetlights of the city and are hemmed in by tall buildings, you may be better advised to spend your money elsewhere. Then again, owning a sufficiently portable telescope gives you a good excuse to pack up every once in a while and head for the country, where the skies are darker and the seeing is better.
faint to see with the naked eye visible, all stars are so incredibly far away (the closest beyond our sun, Alpha Centauri, is about four light-years away) that a given star at higher magnification will still be nothing more than a point of light. Magnification is also largely wasted if what you look at is too dim to see well. Get binoculars with the largest aperture (the diameter of the objective, or main lens) you can afford. An aperture of 50 millimeters is a good choice. Couple this with a 7magnification, and you have a 7 50 pair of binoculars—a good allaround choice for handheld viewing.
If you want to successfully use binoculars with a magnification of more than 10or 12, you will need to mount them on a camera tripod equipped with a binocular adaptor clamp or a specially designed binocular tripod; otherwise, the sky will be a blur.
Binoculars have the advantage of being very portable, and whole guidebooks have been written about observing the sky with them (for example, Exploring the Night Sky with Binoculars, by Patrick Moore [3rd ed., Cambridge University Press, 1996]). However, at anywhere from $200 to $1,000 and more, binoculars with high quality optics are not cheap; if you’re thinking about buying a pair of big, expensive binoculars, there are other possibilities you may want to consider.

Little advice about telescope

2008-03-25T09:04:00.000-07:00

At nearly $3 billion for the Chandra X-Ray Observatory, astronomy can be a dauntingly expensive pursuit. Fortunately, you don’t have to spend quite that much to get started. In fact, you don’t really have to spend anything. A lot of observation can be done with the naked eye, and many local communities have active amateur astronomers who would be happy to let you gaze at the heavens through their telescopes. Some veteran amateur astronomers even warn newcomers that they will be disappointed with a telescope unless they first obtain some star charts and guidebooks and make an effort to learn the major constellations, perceive differences in brightness, and learn to explain the phases of the moon. “Learn to use your eyes before you buy a telescope,” they say.

There’s some real value in this advice. You need at least a little working knowledge of the sky before you can locate much of anything with a telescope. In addition, the type of telescope you buy will depend in part on the type of observing that you want to do, and you won’t know that until you have a little experience. So our first piece of advice is to be patient: Don’t run out to a sale at your local Mega-Lo-Mart and buy a telescope just yet.

But let’s face it—part of the fun of astronomy is making faint objects look brighter and distant objects look closer. To many, a big part of the fun of astronomy is its tools.

The Hubble Space Telescope

2008-03-25T09:00:00.000-07:00

There are other ways to escape the seeing caused by the earth’s atmosphere: You can get above and away from the atmosphere. In fact, for observing in some portions of the electromagnetic spectrum, it is absolutely required to get above the earth’s atmosphere. That is just what NASA, in conjunction with the European Space Agency, did with the Hubble Space Telescope. High above the earth’s atmosphere, the HST regularly achieves its theoretical resolution.
The HST was deployed from the cargo bay of the space shuttle Discovery in 1990. The telescope is equipped with a 94-inch (2.4-meter) reflecting telescope, capable of 10 times the angular resolution of the best Earthbased telescopes and approximately 30 times more sensitive to light, not because it is bigger than telescopes on the earth, but because it is above the earth’s atmosphere. Unfortunately, due to a manufacturing flaw, the curvature of the 2.4-meter mirror was off by literally less than a hair (it was too flat by 1/50 of the width of a human hair), which changed its focal length. The telescope still focused light, but not where it needed to, in the plane of the various detectors.

Astronauts aboard the shuttle Endeavour rendezvoused with the HST in space in 1993 and made repairs—primarily installing a system of small corrective mirrors. HST then began to transmit the spectacular images that scientists had hoped for and the world marveled at. Subsequent repair missions have installed the short-lived but productive infrared camera (NICMOS) and other instrumentation. A final servicing mission is planned for 2003, after which HST will be replaced by the Next Generation Space Telescope (NGST) near 2010.

New optical technology

2008-03-25T08:56:00.000-07:00

The greatest limitation of ground-based observations is that Earth’s atmosphere gets in the way. The turbulence present in the upper atmosphere means that the best resolution attainable with a traditional telescope from the surface of Earth is about 1 arcsecond, or 1/1800 the size of the Moon. Now that might seem like a pretty sharp picture, but for the largest telescopes on the surface of Earth, it is only a fraction of the theoretical resolution, the resolution that a telescope should have, based on its size. It was thought to be a shame, for example, that the 10-m diameter Beck telescope, while it could collect more light, would have no better resolution than a 1-m diameter telescope.
A new technology has been developed to get around this limitation. Dubbed adaptive optics, it allows astronomers to counteract the distortions introduced by the atmosphere with distortions of their own. The distortions are made to another reflective surface inserted into the optical path, the path that light follows through the telescope. The idea is that if the distortions can be removed quickly enough, then large telescopes would have both of the advantages that they should have, namely more sensitivity and more resolution. This technology has produced stunning results recently on the Keck Telescope and the Gemini North Telescope located on Mauna Kea, Hawaii. What does this all mean? As the technology is perfected, ground-based telescopes will be able to make images as sharp as those made from space—in a more easily maintained and upgradeable package.
This technology is very dependent on fast computers and rapidly movable motors that can make tiny, precise adjustments to the surfaces of small mirrors.

Computer Assisted Telescope

2008-03-20T02:26:00.000-07:00

Beginning in the late nineteenth century, most serious telescope viewing was done photographically. Astronomers (despite the popular cartoon image) didn’t peer through their telescopes in search of new and exciting information, but studied photographic plates instead. Photographic methods allowed astronomers to make longer observations, seeing many more faint details than could ever be distinguished with visual observing. In recent years, chemical-based photography has increasingly yielded to digital photography, which records images not on film but on CCDs (charge-coupled devices), in principle the same device at the focal plane of your camcorder lens. CCDs are much more sensitive than photographic film, which means they can record fainter objects in briefer exposure times; moreover, the image produced is digital and can be directly transferred to a computer.

Remember the sound of old-fashioned 12-inch, vinyl LP records? Even the best of them had a hiss audible during quiet musical passages, and the worst served up more snap, crackle, and pop than a popular breakfast cereal. CDs, recorded digitally, changed all that by electronically filtering out the nonmusical noise found at high frequencies. Analogous digital computer techniques can be used to filter out the “visual noise” in an image to improve its quality. The disadvantage of current CCDs is that they are relatively small. That is, CCD chips are much smaller than a photographic plate, so that only relatively small areas of the sky can be focused on a single CCD chip.

The effect of twinkling star

2008-03-20T02:22:00.000-07:00

Theoretically, the giant Hale telescope at Mount Palomar is capable of a spectacular angular resolution of a .02” (or 20 milliarcseconds); that would be its resolution in the absence of complicating factors like the earth’s atmosphere. In actual practice, it has a resolution of about 1”. The source of this limit is related to the reason that stars twinkle. The earth’s turbulent atmosphere stands between the telescope’s gigantic primary mirror and the stars, smearing the image just as it sometimes causes starlight viewed with the naked eye to shimmer and twinkle.

If you took a still photograph of a twinkling star through a large telescope, you would see not a pinpoint image, but one that had been smeared over a minute circle of about 1” (1 arcsecond). This smeary circle is called the seeing disk, and astronomers call the effect of atmospheric turbulence seeing. When weather fronts are moving in (even if the skies appear clear), or have just moved out, the seeing can be particularly bad.

High, dry locations generally have the best seeing. To achieve resolutions better than about 1” from the surface of the earth is possible, but it requires a few tricks.

Adaptive optics, for example, are being increasingly employed on new research telescopes. This method allows a mirror in the optical path to be slightly distorted in real time (by a series of actuators) in order to compensate for the blurring effects of the atmosphere. Of course, much higher resolutions are possible at other wavelengths. As we will see, radio interferometers regularly provide images with resolutions better than 0.001” (or 1 milliarcsecond).

The Power to Gather Light

2008-03-20T00:54:00.000-07:00

Why this passion for size?
As we mentioned before, the bigger the bucket, the more light you can collect, so the more information you can gather. The observed brightness of an object is directly proportional to the area (yes, area; not diameter) of the primary mirror. Thus a 78-inch (2-meter) diameter mirror yields an image 4 times brighter than a 39-inch (1-meter) mirror, because area is proportional to diameter squared, and the square of 2 (2 times 2) is 4. A 197-inch (5-meter) mirror would yield images 25 times brighter (5 times 5) than a 1-meter mirror, and a 393-inch (10-meter) mirror would yield an image 100 times brighter than a 1-meter mirror.

Now, things that are farther away are always going to be more faint. It should be obvious that a 100-watt light bulb will appear more faint if it is 1 mile away versus 1 foot away. Thus, a telescope that can see more faint objects is able to see things that are farther away. So, in general, the bigger the telescope, the more distant are the objects that can be viewed. As we’ll see near the end of this book, being able to see very distant (faint) objects is important to answering some fundamental questions about the ultimate fate of the universe.

Size Does Matters

2008-03-14T23:38:00.000-07:00

Throughout the nineteenth and well into the twentieth century, astronomers and others interested in science and the sky avidly followed news about every new telescope that was built, each one larger than the last. In 1948, the Hale telescope at Mount Palomar, California, was dedicated. Its 200-inch (5-meter) mirror was the largest in the world.
It was designed flexibly to be used as a prime-focus instrument (with the astronomer actually ensconced in a cage at the front end of the telescope), a Cassegrain-focus instrument (with the observer perched on an adjustable platform at the back of the telescope), or a coudé-focus instrument. The Hale telescope was the largest in the world until 1974, when the Soviets completed a 74-ton, 236-inch (6-meter) mirror, which was installed at the Special Astrophysical Observatory in Zelenchukskaya in the Caucasus Mountains.
In 1992, the first of two Keck telescopes, operated jointly by the California Institute of Technology and the University of California, became operational at Mauna Kea, Hawaii. A second Keck telescope was completed in 1996. Each of these instruments combines thirty-six 71-inch (1.8-meter) mirrors into the equivalent of a 393-inch (10-meter) reflector. Not only do these telescopes now have the distinction of being the largest telescopes on Earth, they are also among the highest (of those based on Earth), nestled on an extinct volcano 2.4 miles above sea level.

Variations on an Optical Theme

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While the two major types of optical telescopes are the refractor and the reflector, it is also useful to be aware of the basic variations in reflector design, especially when you think about choosing a telescope for yourself (see the next chapter). We have already seen that the simplest reflector (prime focus) focuses its image at the front of the telescope, introducing the possibility that the observer may block the image. The Newtonian focus instrument, as mentioned, overcomes this problem by introducing a secondary mirror to direct the focus to an eyepiece at the upper side of the instrument. This remains a popular arrangement for small reflecting telescopes used by amateur astronomers. This arrangement is unwieldy, however, for a large telescope. Imagine trying to get to the “top” of a telescope 6 feet long, perched on a 6-foot pedestal.

Some larger reflecting telescopes employ a Cassegrain focus. The image from the primary mirror is reflected to a secondary mirror, which again reflects the light rays down through an aperture (hole) in the primary mirror to an eyepiece at the back of the telescope.

Finally, a coudé-focus (coudé is French for “bent”) reflector sends light rays from the primary mirror to a secondary mirror, much like a Cassegrain. However, instead of focusing the light behind the primary mirror, another mirror is employed to direct the light away from the telescope, through an aperture and into a separate room, called the coudé-focus room. Here astronomers can house special imaging equipment that might be too heavy or cumbersome to actually mount to the barrel of the telescope. Reflecting telescopes have their problems as well. The presence of a secondary mirror (or a detector, in the case of a prime-focus reflector) means that some fraction of the incoming light is necessarily blocked.

Although reflectors do not experience “chromatic aberration” (since light does not have to pass through glass), their spherical shape does introduce spherical aberration, light being focused at different distances when reflecting from a spherical mirror. If not corrected, this aberration will produce blurred images. One common solution to spherical aberration is to use a very thin “correcting” lens at the top of the telescope. This type of telescope, which we will discuss more in the next chapter, is called a Schmidt-Cassegrain, and is a popular design for high-end amateur telescopes.

What is Reflection?

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The refracting telescope was one of humankind’s great inventions, rendered even greater by the presence of a genius like Galileo to use it. However, the limitations of the refracting telescope soon became apparent:

Even the most exquisitely crafted lens produces distortion, which can be corrected only by the introduction of other lenses, which, in turn, introduce their own distortion and loss of brightness, since a little of the energy is absorbed in all that glass. The chief distortion is chromatic aberration.
Excellent lenses are expensive to produce, and this was even more true in the days when all lenses were painstakingly ground by hand. Lenses are particularly difficult to produce because both sides have to be precision crafted and polished. For mirrored surfaces, like those found in reflecting telescopes, only a single side must be polished.
Generally, the larger the lens, the greater the magnification and the brighter the image; however, large lenses get heavier faster than large mirrors. Lenses have volume, and the potential for imperfections (such as bubbles in the glass) is higher in a large lens. All of this means that large lenses are much more difficult and expensive to produce than small ones. Recognizing the deficiencies of the refracting telescope, Isaac Newton developed a new design, the reflecting telescope, in 1668.

Instead of the convex lens of a refractor, the reflector uses a concave mirror (shaped like a shallow bowl) to gather, reflect, and focus incoming light. The hollow side of your breakfast spoon is a concave mirror (the other side is a convex one). This curvature means that the focal point is in front of the mirror—between the mirror and the object being viewed. Newton recognized that this was at best inconvenient—your own head could block what you are looking at—so he introduced a secondary mirror to deflect the light path at a 90-degree angle to an eyepiece mounted on the side of the telescope.

Refracting telescope design continued to develop throughout the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, culminating in the 40-inch (that’s the diameter of the principal lens) instrument at Yerkes Observatory in Williams Bay, Wisconsin, installed in 1897.
But due to the limitations just mentioned, the biggest, most powerful telescopes have all been reflectors. In the eighteenth century, the great British astronomer Sir William Herschel persuaded the king to finance an instrument with a 47-inch (1.2-meter) mirror.

With this telescope, Herschel had a big enough light bucket to explore galaxies beyond our own Milky Way (though he did not know that’s what they were). By the middle of the nineteenth century, William Parsons, third Earl of Rosse, explored new nebulae (fuzzy patches of light in the sky, some of which are galaxies) and star clusters with a 73-inch (1.85-meter) instrument constructed in 1845. It ranked as the largest telescope in the world well into the twentieth century, until the 100-inch reflector was installed at the Mount Wilson Observatory (near Pasadena, California) early in the century.

What is Refraction?

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Galileo’s instrument, like all of the earliest telescopes, was a refracting telescope, which uses a glass lens to focus the incoming light. For all practical purposes, astronomical objects are so far away from us that we can consider that light rays come to us parallel to one another—that is, unfocused. Refraction is the bending of these parallel rays. The convex (bowed outward) piece of glass we call a lens bends the incoming rays such that they all converge at a point called the focus, which is behind the lens directly along its axis. The distance from the cross-sectional center of the lens to the focus is called the focal length of the lens. Positioned behind the focus is the eyepiece lens, which magnifies the focused image for the viewer’s eye.

Modern refracting telescopes consist of more than two simple lenses. At both ends of the telescope tube, compound (multiple) lenses are used, consisting of assemblies of individual lenses (called elements) designed to correct for various distortions simple lenses produce. For example, the exact degree to which light bends or refracts in a piece of glass depends on its wavelength. Since light consists of many different wavelengths, a single lens will produce a distortion called “chromatic aberration.” The compound eyepiece of many modern telescopes also corrects the image, which a simple eyepiece would see upside down and reversed left to right.

The Telescope Is Born

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In 1608, lens makers in the Netherlands discovered that if they mounted one lens at either end of a tube and adjusted the distance between the lenses, the lens that you put to your eye would magnify an image focused by the lens at the far end of the tube. In effect, the lens at the far end of the tube gathered and concentrated (focused) more light energy than the eye could do on its own. The lens near the eye enlarged to various degrees that concentrated image. This world-changing invention was dubbed a telescope.

The word telescope comes from Greek roots meaning “far-seeing.” Optical telescopes are arrangements of lenses and/or mirrors designed to gather visible light efficiently enough to enhance observation of distant objects and phenomena. Many, perhaps most, inventions take time to gain acceptance. Typically, there is a lapse of more than a few years between the invention and its practical application. Not so with the telescope.

By 1609, within a year after the first telescopes appeared, the Italian astronomer Galileo Galilei demonstrated their significance in military matters (seeing a distant naval foe), and was soon using them to explore the heavens. The largest of his instruments was quite small, with only modest magnifying power, but, as we’ve seen in the preceding chapter, Galileo was able to use this tool to describe the valleys and mountains on the Moon, to observe the phases of Venus, and to identify the four largest moons of Jupiter.

Buckets of Light

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Of course, the fraction of the emitted energy we receive from a very distant star—or even a whole galaxy, like far-off Andromeda—is very small, having been diminished by the square of the distance (but never reaching zero). Imagine a sphere centered on a distant star. As the sphere becomes larger and larger (that is, as we get farther and farther from the star), the same amount of energy will pass through ever larger spheres.

Your eye (or your telescope) can be thought of as a very tiny fraction of the sphere centered on that distant star. You are collecting as much light from the distant source as falls into your “light bucket.” If your eye is a tiny “bucket,” then a 4-inch amateur telescope is a slightly larger bucket, and the Hubble Space Telescope is an even larger bucket. The larger the bucket, the more light you can “collect.” And if we collect more light in our bucket, we get more information.
One early question among astronomers (and others) was, “How can we build a better bucket than the two little ones we have in our head?” The answer came in the early seventeenth century.

Understanding Electromagnetic Spectrum

2008-03-06T19:37:00.000-08:00

Electromagnetic radiation travels though the vacuum of space in waves. A wave—think of a water wave—is not a physical object, but a pattern of up-and-down or back-and-forth motion created by a disturbance. Waves are familiar to anyone who has thrown a rock in a pond of still water or watched raindrops striking a puddle. The wave pattern in the water, a series of concentric circles, radiates from the source of the energy, the impact of the rock or the rain drop. If anything happens to be floating on the surface of the water—say a leaf—the waves will transfer some of the energy of the splash to the leaf and cause it to oscillate up and down.

The important thing to remember about waves is that they convey both energy and information. Even if we didn’t actually see the rock or the raindrop hit the water, we would be able to surmise from the action of the waves that something had disturbed the surface of the water at a particular point. The type of energy and information created and conveyed by electromagnetic radiation is more complex than that created and conveyed by the waves generated by a splash in the water. Do take a moment now to make sure that you understand two properties of waves: wavelength and frequency.
Wavelength is the distance between two adjacent wave crests (high points) or troughs (low points), measured in meters. Frequency is the number of wave crests that pass a given point per unit of time (and has units of 1/second).

We think of the light from our reading lamp as very different from the x-rays our dentist uses to diagnose an ailing tooth, but both are types of electromagnetic waves, and the only difference between them is their wavelengths. Frequency and wavelength of a wave are inversely proportional to one another, meaning that if one of them gets bigger, the other one must get smaller. The particular wavelength produced by a given energy source (a star’s photosphere, a planetary atmosphere) determines whether the electromagnetic radiation produced by that source is detected at radio, infrared, visible, ultraviolet, x-ray, or gamma ray wavelengths.

The waves that produce what we perceive as visible light have wavelengths of between 400 and 700 nanometers (a nanometer is 0.000000001 meter, or 1 X10–9 m) and frequencies of somewhat less than 1015 Hz. Light waves, like the other forms of electromagnetic radiation, are produced by the change in the energy state of an atom or molecule. These waves, in turn, transmit energy from one place in the universe to another. The special nerves in the retinas of our eyes, the emulsion on photographic film, and the pixels of a CCD (Charge Coupled Device) electronic detector are all stimulated (energized) by the energy transmitted by waves of what we call visible light. That is why we “see.”

The outer layers of a star consist of extremely hot gas. This gas is radiating away some fraction of the huge amounts of energy that a star generates in its core through nuclear fusion. That energy is emitted at some level in all portions of the electromagnetic spectrum, so that when we look at a distant or nearby star (the sun) with our eyes, we are receiving a small portion of that energy.

A Slice of Light

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The universe is ruled by the tyranny of distance. That is, the universe is so vast, that we are able to see many things that we will never be able to visit. Light is able to travel at extraordinary speeds (about 984,000,000 feet, or 300,000,000 meters, every second), but the light that we now see from many objects in the sky left those sources thousands, millions, or even billions of years ago. It is possible, for example, to see the Andromeda galaxy, even with the naked eye, but will we ever travel there?

Well, Andromeda is about two million light-years away, and a light-year is the distance light travels in one year—about 9,461,000,000,000,000 meters (some 6 trillion miles). Now, light can travel that far every year, so to get the distance to Andromeda, you multiply the velocity of light (6 trillion miles in a year) by the amount of time it took the light to get here (2 million years), and you get a lot of miles—approximately a 1 with 19 zeroes after it. Another way to think about these unbelievable distances: If you could travel at the speed of light (an impossibility, according to Einstein’s theory of relativity), it would still take you two million years to reach Andromeda.

But we can’t travel at anywhere near the speed of light. Right now, the fastest rockets are capable of doing 30,000 miles per hour (48,000 km/h). Maybe—someday—technology will enable us at least to approach the speed of light, but that still means a trip of two million years up and two million back. All of recorded history consumes no more than 5,500 years, and civilization, perhaps 10,000 years.

Why not go faster than the speed of light? We’ll see that, according to our understanding of space and time, the speed of light is an absolute speed limit, which cannot be exceeded. So revel in the fact that, on a clear night, you are able to gaze at the Andromeda galaxy, an object so distant that no human being will likely ever visit it.
Space ships may be severely limited as to how fast they can travel, but as we’ve said, the information conveyed by electromagnetic radiation can travel at the speed of light. The information from Andromeda, it is true, is not exactly recent news by the time we get it.

In fact, the photons that we are receiving from Andromeda left that galaxy long before Homo sapiens walked the earth. But everything we know about Andromeda and almost all other celestial bodies (aside from the few solar system objects we have visited with probes or landers), we know by analyzing their electromagnetic radiation: radio, infrared, and ultraviolet radiation, as well as x-rays and gamma rays and what we call light.

Newton’s Law is not just a good idea

2008-03-06T19:19:00.000-08:00

In Principia, Newton proposed that the force of gravity exerted by objects upon one another is proportional to the mass of the two objects, and weakens as the square of the distance between those objects.

Specifically, he postulated that the gravitational force between two objects is directly proportional to the product of their masses (mass of object A times mass of object B). So two objects, one very massive and the other with very little mass, will “feel” the same mutual attraction. In addition, he claimed that the force between two objects will decrease in proportion to the square of the distance. This “inverse-square law” means that the force of gravity mutually exerted by two objects, say 10 units of distance apart, is 100 times (102) weaker than that exerted by objects only 1 unit apart—yet this force never reaches zero.

The most distant galaxies in the universe exert a gravitational pull on one another. These relations between mass, distance, and force comprise what we call Newton’s Law of Universal Gravitation. Consider the solar system, with the planets moving in elliptical orbits around the sun. Newton’s Principia explained not only what holds the planets in their elliptical orbits (an “inverse-square” force called gravity), but also predicted that the planets themselves (massive Jupiter in particular) would have a small but measurable effect on each other’s orbits.

Like any good scientific theory, Newton’s laws not only explained what was already observed (the motion of the planets), but was able to make testable predictions. The orbit of Saturn, for example, was known to deviate slightly from what one would expect if it were simply in orbit around the sun (with no other planets present). The mass of Jupiter has a small, but measurable, effect on its orbital path. Newton noted with a sense of humor that the effect of Jupiter on Saturn’s orbit made so much sense (according to his theory) that “astronomers are puzzled with it.” For the first time, a scientist had claimed that the rules of motion on the earth were no different from the rules of motion in the heavens.

The moon was just a big apple, much farther away, falling to the earth in its own way. The planets orbit the sun following the same rules as a baseball thrown up into the air, and the pocket watch of the earth is held in its orbit by a chain called gravity. Did Newton bring the celestial sphere down to Earth, or elevate us all to the status of planets? Whatever you think, we have never looked at the solar system or the universe in the same way since.

The Weighty Matters

2008-03-02T08:24:00.000-08:00

Throw a ball up into the air, and you will observe that it travels in a familiar curved (parabolic) trajectory: first up, up, up, leveling off, then down, down, down. Common sense tells us that the force of gravity pulls the ball back to Earth.

Newton’s brilliance was in postulating not only that there is a force, gravity, that pulls the ball (or apple) back to the earth, but that such a force applies to everything in the universe that has mass. The gravitational force due to the mass of the earth also pulls on the moon, holding in its orbit, and pulls on each of us, keeping us in contact with the ground. Finally there was an answer to those who thought the earth could not be spinning and orbiting the sun. What was there to keep us firmly footed on the earth? Newton had the answer: the force of gravity.

Newton’s Three Laws of Motion

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Newton’s first law of motion states that, unless acted upon by some external force, a body at rest remains at rest and a moving object continues to move forever in a straight line and at a constant speed. This property is known as inertia. The measure of an object’s inertia is its mass (in effect, the amount of matter the object contains). The more massive an object, the greater its inertia.
Newton’s first law explains why the planets move in nearly circular orbits—essentially because an external force (gravity) acts on each planet. Without gravity, the planets would all fly off in straight lines, like so many pocket watches.

Newton’s second law states that the acceleration of an object is directly proportional to the force applied to the object and inversely proportional to the mass of the object. Pull two objects with the same force, and the more massive object will accelerate more slowly than the less massive one. We all know this intuitively. Your subcompact car’s engine would have a much harder time accelerating than an 18-wheel truck!
Newton’s third law of motion states that forces do not act in isolation. If object A exerts a force on object B, object B exerts an equal but opposite force on object A. A hammer, for example, exerts a force on the nail, driving it into the wall. The nail exerts an equal and opposite force on the hammer, stopping its motion.

What Hold The Universe Together?

2008-03-02T08:22:00.000-08:00

One of us knew a young man who owned a pocket watch, which he would habitually twirl, holding the end of the chain and allowing it to orbit around the focus of his finger. One day, the chain broke, sending the costly timepiece flying off into space—and against a wall, with predictably catastrophic results.

Why don’t the planets suffer the same fate?
Despite his brilliant explanation of planetary motion, Kepler had not explained how the planets orbited the sun without flying off into space, and why they traveled in ellipses.
The answer came in the late seventeenth century when an Englishman, Isaac Newton (1642–1727), one of the most brilliant mathematicians who ever lived, formulated three laws of motion and the law of universal gravitation in a great work, Philosophiae Naturalis Principia Mathematica (Mathematical Principles of Natural Philosophy), better known simply as Principia.

Understanding Galileo's Work

2008-02-26T01:18:00.000-08:00

While Kepler was theorizing from Copernicus’s data, an Italian astronomer, Galileo Galilei (1565–1642), directed his gaze skyward, amplifying his eyesight with the aid of a new Dutch invention (which we’ll meet in the next chapter), the telescope. Through this instrument, Galileo explored the imperfect surface of the moon, covered as it was with craters, “seas,” and features that looked very much like the surface of the earth. Galileo was even more surprised to find that the surface of the sun was blemished. These “sunspots”, he noted, changed position from day to day. From this fact, Galileo did not conclude that the spots changed, but that the sun was rotating, making a complete revolution about once each month.

His telescope also revealed for the first time that moons orbited Jupiter—another observation that strongly supported the notion that the earth was not the center of all things. He observed that the planet Venus cycled through phases, much like the moon, and that the size of the planet varied with its phase. From this, he concluded that Venus must orbit not the earth, but the sun.

Galileo published these many independent experimental proofs of a heliocentric solar system in 1610.Six years later, the Catholic Church judged the work heretical and banned them, as well as the work of Copernicus. Galileo defied the ban and, in 1632, published a comparison of the Ptolemaic and Copernican models written as a kind of three-way discussion. He was so bold as to write in Italian, instead of learned Latin, which meant that common folk (at least those who were literate) were being invited to read a theory that challenged the teaching of the Church.

Galileo was silenced by the Holy Inquisition in 1633, forced to recant his heresy under threat of death, and placed under house arrest for the rest of his life.

Three Kepler Laws

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Kepler had predicted that with Tycho’s data, he would solve the problem of planetary motion in a matter of days. After almost eight years of study, trial, and error, Kepler had a stroke of genius. He concluded that the planets must orbit the sun not in perfect circles, but in elliptical orbits (an ellipse is a flattened circle). He wrote to a friend: “I have the answer … The orbit of the planet is a perfect ellipse. Kepler was able to state the fundamentals of planetary motion in three basic laws.

That planets move in elliptical orbits, with the sun at one focus of the ellipse, is known as Kepler’s First Law. It resolved the discrepancies in observed planetary motion that both Ptolemy and Copernicus had failed to explain adequately. Both of those great minds had been convinced that in a perfect universe, the orbits of planets had to be circular.

Another apparent attribute of elliptical orbits determined Kepler’s Second Law. It states that an imaginary line connecting the sun to any planet would sweep out equal areas of the ellipse in equal intervals of time. The Second Law explained the variation in speed with which planets travel. They will move faster when they are closer to the sun. Kepler did not say why this was so, just that it was apparently so. Later minds would confront that why. The first two of Kepler’s laws were published in 1609.

The third did not appear until ten years later and is slightly more complex. It states that the square of a planet’s orbital period (the time needed to complete one orbit around the sun) is proportional to the cube of its semi-major axis. Since the planets’ orbits, while elliptical, are very nearly circular, the semi-major axis can be considered to be a planet’s average distance from the sun.

Understanding Kepler's work

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When King Frederick died in 1588, Tycho lost his most understanding and indulgent patron. Frederick’s son Christian IV was less interested in astronomy than his father had been, and, to Christian, Tycho was an unreasonably demanding protégé, who repeatedly sought more money. At last, the astronomer left Denmark and ultimately settled in Prague in 1599 as Imperial Mathematician of the Holy Roman Empire. In the Czech city, he was joined by a persistent younger German astronomer, Johannes Kepler (1571–1630), who, after writing several flattering letters to Tycho, became his student and disciple.

Tycho Brahe, a colorful character, who lost part of his nose in a duel (he replaced it with a golden prosthesis), died ingloriously in 1601, apparently from a burst bladder after drinking too much at a dinner party. After a bit of a struggle, Kepler got a hold of the mass of complex observational data Tycho had accumulated. While Tycho had been a brilliant observer, he was not a particularly good theoretician. Kepler, a sickly child, had grown into a frail adult with the mind of a brilliant theorist—though with very little aptitude for close observation, since he also suffered from poor eyesight. Indeed, Tycho and Kepler were the original odd couple, who argued incessantly; yet their skills were perfectly complementary.

And when Tycho died, instead of using his instruments to make new observations, Kepler dived into Tycho’s data, seeking in its precise observations of planetary positions a unifying principle that would explain the motions of the planets without resorting to epicycles. It was clear, especially with Tycho’s data, that the Copernican system of planets moving around the sun in perfectly circular orbits was not going to be sufficient. Kepler sought the missing piece of information that would harmonize the heliostatic solar system of Copernicus with the mountain of data that was Tycho’s planetary observations.

The Man with the Golden Nose

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The astronomer Tycho Brahe (1546–1601) was born in Denmark just three years after the publication of De Revolutionibus. As a youth, he studied law, but was so impressed by astronomers’ ability to predict a total solar eclipse on August 21, 1560, that he began to study astronomy on his own. In August 1563, he made his first recorded astronomical observation, a conjunction (a coming together in the sky) of Jupiter and Saturn, and discovered that the existing ephemerides were highly inaccurate. From this point on, Tycho decided to devote his life to careful astronomical observation.

On November 11, 1572, he recorded the appearance of a new star , brighter than Venus, in the constellation Cassiopeia. The publication of his observations (De Nova Stella, 1573) made him famous.

King Frederick II of Denmark gave him land and financed the construction of an observatory Tycho called Uraniborg (after Urania, the muse of astronomy). Here Tycho not only attracted scholars from all over the world, but designed innovative astronomical instruments and made meticulous astronomical observations—the most accurate possible before the invention of the telescope.

A Revolution of Revolutions

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For centuries, astronomy had been a science in which errors of a few degrees in planetary position on the sky were acceptable. But to Copernicus, Kepler, and others who would follow, errors of that magnitude indicated that something was seriously wrong in our understanding of planetary motion. They were driven to discover their origin.

Now we turn to the details of Copernicus’s model. The first of the six sections of De Revolutionibus sets out some mathematical principles and rearranges the planets in order from the sun: Mercury is closest to the sun, followed by Venus, Earth (with the Moon orbiting it), Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn.

The second part applies the mathematical rules set out in the first to explain the apparent motions of the stars, planets, and sun. The third section describes Earth’s motions mathematically and includes a discussion of precession of the equinoxes, attributing it correctly to the slow gyration of the earth’s rotational axis. The last three parts of the book are devoted to the motions of the moon and the planets other than Earth.

While Copernicus’s purpose in reordering the planetary system may have been relatively modest, it soon became apparent that the new theory required the most profound revision of thought.

First: The universe had to be a much bigger place than previously imagined. The stars always appeared in the same positions with the same apparent brightness. But if the earth really were in orbit around the sun, the stars should display a small but noticeable periodic change in position and brightness. Why didn’t they? Copernicus said that the starry celestial sphere had to be so distant from Earth that changes simply could not be detected.

Building on this explanation, others theorized an infinite universe, in which the stars were not arranged on a celestial sphere, but were scattered throughout space.
The second required revision, while not as obvious, was even more basic.
Why do things fall? Aristotle explained that bodies fell toward their “natural place,” which, he said, was the center of the universe.

That explanation worked as long as the earth was considered to be the center of the universe. But now that it wasn’t the center, how could the behavior of falling bodies be explained? The answers would have to wait until the late seventeenth century, when Isaac Newton published his Principia, including a theory of universal gravitation.

Profound as were the astronomical and other scientific implications, the emotional shock of the Copernican universe was even greater. Suddenly, the earth, with humankind upon it, was no longer at the center of all creation, but was instead hurtling through space like a ball on a string. Why did we stay on the ball? What was the string? These were all unanswered questions that must have been very unsettling for those who thought about them.

“More Pleasing to the Mind”

2008-02-22T08:32:00.000-08:00

This uncertainty in the calendar bothered Copernicus deeply. Many astronomers thought that any errors in the Ptolemaic system might be due to the many small “typos” that had crept into the manuscript with centuries of copying by scribes. However, connections between east and west at this time meant that Copernicus was able to have a nearly pristine copy of Ptolemy’s work Almagest. Any errors had to be errors in the model itself.

Ptolemy’s complex geocentric system of epicycles Copernicus questioned the Ptolemaic system on the very basis that a modern scientist might. The model had become too complicated, and scientists tend to seek simplicity (where possible) in their models of the universe. The printing presses that were firing up across Europe at the time made it possible for many more scholars to read good copies of ancient works.

As Copernicus started reading Greek manuscripts that had been long neglected, he rediscovered Aristarchus’s old idea of a heliocentric (sun-centered) universe. He concluded that putting the sun at (or near) the center of a solar system with planets in orbit around it created a model that was “more pleasing to the mind” than what Ptolemy had proposed and medieval Europe accepted for so many centuries.

But he did not rush to publish, only after much hesitation privately circulating a
brief manuscript, De Hypothesibus Motuum Coelestium a Se Constitutis Commentariolus
(A Commentary on the Theories of the Motions of Heavenly Objects from Their Arrangements)

in 1514. He argued that all of the motion we see in the heavens is the result of the earth’s daily rotation on its axis and yearly revolution around the sun, which is motionless at the center of the planetary system.
Sound familiar?

Aristarchus had suggested it almost 2,000 years earlier, but no one had listened. The earth, Copernicus explained, was central only to the orbit of the moon. For almost two more decades he refined his thought before consenting, in 1536, to publish the full theory. But largely because of opposition from Martin Luther and other German religious reformers, De Revolutionibus Orbium Caelestium (On the Revolutions of the Celestial Spheres) wasn’t actually printed until 1543.

As close as Copernicus’s model came to representing the motion of planets in the solar system, it insisted on the perfection of circular orbits, so that it actually had no better predictive ability for planetary motions than the Ptolemaic model it replaced. For all its creakiness, the Ptolemaic model still predicted, for example, where Mercury would be on a particular night about as well as Copernicus’s model did.

The ‘Heretical’ Polish Priest

2008-02-17T18:10:00.000-08:00

In Europe, astronomy—as a truly observational science—did not revive until the Middle Ages had given way to the Renaissance. The German mathematician and astronomer Johann Müller (1436–1476) called himself Regiomontanus, after the Latinized form of K"onigsberg (King’s Mountain), his birthplace. Enrolled at the University of Leipzig by the time he was 11, Regiomontanus assisted the Austrian mathematician Georg von Peuerbach in composing a work on Ptolemaic astronomy.

Regiomontanus took his job seriously and, in 1461, journeyed to Rome to learn Greek and collect Greek manuscripts from refugee astronomers fleeing the Turks, so that he was able to read the most important texts, including the Greek translation of Almagest. In the meantime, his mentor Peuerbach had died and Regiomontanus completed the master’s work in 1463. Three years later, he moved to Nürnberg, where a wealthy patron built him an observatory and gave him a printing press. Beginning in 1474, he used the press to publish ephemerides, celestial almanacs giving the daily positions of the heavenly bodies for periods of several years.

The publications of Regiomontanus, which were issued until his death in 1476, did much to reintroduce to European astronomy the practice of scientific observation.
He was so highly respected that Pope Sixtus IV summoned him to Rome to oversee revision of the notably inaccurate Julian calendar then in use.

Regiomontanus began this work on the calendar, but then died mysteriously—possibly from plague or from poison, perhaps administered by enemies resentful of his probing the cosmos too insistently. At that time, it could be dangerous to question accepted ideas, especially where the heavens were concerned. Nikolaus Krebs (1401–1464), known as Nicholas of Cusa, wrote a book called De Docta Ignorantia suggesting that the earth might not be the center of the universe.

Fortunately for Nicholas (who was a cardinal of the Catholic church), few paid attention to the idea. Another Nicholas (actually spelled Nicolaus)—Copernicus—was born in eastern Poland in 1473, almost a decade after Krebs’s death. A brilliant youth, he studied at the universities of Kraków, Bologna, Padua, and Ferrara, learning just about everything that was then known in the fields of mathematics, astronomy, medicine, and theology.

Copernicus earned great renown as an astronomer and in 1514 was asked by the church for his opinion on the vexing question of calendar reform. The great Copernicus declared that he could not give an opinion, because the positions of the sun and moon were not understood with sufficient accuracy.

Arabian Astronomers

2008-02-17T18:07:00.000-08:00

From our perspective just beyond the cusp of the millennium, it is easy to disparage Ptolemy for insisting that the earth stood at the center of the solar system. But we often forget that we live in a unique age, when images of the earth and other planets are routinely beamed from space. These stunning pictures of our cosmic neighborhood have become so familiar to us that commercial TV networks wouldn’t think of elbowing aside this or that sitcom to show the images to the viewing public.

Informed as we are with “the truth” about how the solar system works, we wonder how Ptolemy’s complicated explanation could have been accepted for so long. There is no doubt that his model of the solar system was wrong, but, wrong as he was, his book contained the heart and soul of classical astronomy and survived into an age that had turned its back on classical learning. During the early Middle Ages, Ptolemy’s work remained unread in Europe, but his principal book found its way into the Arab world, and in 820 it was translated into Arabic as Almagest (roughly translatable as The Greatest Book). The circulation of Ptolemy’s work renewed interest in astronomy throughout Arabia, with centers of learning being established in both Damascus and Baghdad.

Abu ‘Abd Allah Muhammad Ibn Jabir Ibn Sinan Al-battani Al-harrani As-sabi’, more conveniently known as al-Battani (ca. 858–929), became the most celebrated of the Arab astronomers, although it took many years before his major work, On Stellar Motion, was brought to Europe in Latin (about 1116) and in Spanish translation (in the thirteenth century). Al-Battani made important refinements to calculations of the length of the year and the seasons, as well as the annual precession of the equinoxes and the angle of the ecliptic. Moreover, he demonstrated that the Sun’s apogee (its farthest point from Earth) is variable, and he refined Ptolemy’s astronomical calculations by replacing geometry with sleek trigonometry.

Another Arab, Al-S^ufi (903–986), wrote a book translated as Uranographia (in essence, Writings of the Celestial Muse), in which he discussed the comparative brilliance of the stars. Like the scale of the Greek astronomer Hipparchos, the system of Al-S^ufi rated star brightness in orders of magnitude. Relative star brightness is still rated in terms of magnitude.

Arab astronomers like Al-S^ufi also contributed star maps and catalogues, which were so influential that many of the star names in use today are of Arab origin (such as Betelgeuse, Aldebaran, and Algol), as are such basic astronomical terms as azimuth and zenith.