Artist's impression of Charon (left) and Pluto (right), showing their relative sizes. Credit:
‘Here be Dragons…’ read the inscriptions of old maps used by early seafaring explorers. Such maps were crude, and often wildly inaccurate.
The same could be said for our very understanding of distant planetary surfaces today. But this week, we’ll be filling in one of those ‘terra incognita’ labels, as New Horizons conducts humanity’s very first reconnaissance of Pluto and its moons.
The closest approach for New Horizons is set for Tuesday, July 14th at 11:49 UT/7:49 AM EDT, as the intrepid spacecraft passes 12,600 kilometres (7,800 miles) from Pluto’s surface. At over 4 light hours or nearly 32 astronomical units (AUs) away, New Horizons is on its own, and must perform its complex pirouette through the Pluto system as it cruises by at over 14 kilometres (8 miles) a second.
This also means that we’ll be hearing relatively little from the spacecraft on flyby day, as it can’t waste precious time pointing its main dish back at the Earth. With a downlink rate of 2 kilobits a second—think ye ole 1990’s dial-up, plus frozen molasses—it’ll take months to finish off data retrieval post flyby. A great place to watch a simulation of the flyby ‘live’ is JPL’s Eyes on the Solar System, along with who is talking to New Horizons currently on the Deep Space Network with DSN Now.
A snapshot of the current July 13th view of New Horizons as it nears Pluto. (Image credit: NASA’s Eyes on the Solar System).
Bob King also wrote up an excellent timeline of New Horizons events for Universe Today yesterday. Also be sure to check out the Planetary Society’s in-depth look at what to expect by Emily Lakdawalla.
Seems strange that after more than a decade of recycling the same blurry images and artist’s conceptions in articles, we’re now getting a new and improved shot of Pluto and Charon daily!
To follow the tale of Pluto is to know the story of modern planetary astronomy. Discovered in 1930 by American astronomer Clyde Tombaugh from the Lowell Observatory, Pluto was named by 11-year old Venetia Burney. Venetia just passed away in 2009, and there’s a great short documentary interview with her entitled Naming Pluto.
The blink comparitor Clyde Tombaugh used to discover Pluto, on display at the Lowell Observatory. Image Credit: David Dickinson
Fun fact: Historians at the Carnegie Institute recently found images of Pluto on glass plates… dated 1925, from five years before its discovery.
Despite the pop culture reference, Pluto was not named after the Disney dog, but after the Roman god of the underworld. Pluto the dog was not named in Disney features until late 1930, and if anything, the character was more than likely named after the buzz surrounding the newest planet on the block.
We’re already seeing features on Pluto and Charon in the latest images, such as the ‘heart,’ ‘donut,’ and the ‘whale’ of Pluto, along with chasms, craters and a dark patch on Charon. The conspicuous lack of large craters on Pluto suggests an active world.
The International Astronomical Union (IAU) convention for naming any new moons discovered in the Plutonian system specifies characters related to the Roman god Pluto and tales of the underworld.
Brake for New Horizons on July 14th… Image credit: David Dickinson
With features, however, cartographers of Pluto should get a bit more flexibility. Earlier this year, the Our Pluto campaign invited the public to cast votes to name features on Pluto and Charon related to famous scientists, explorers and more. The themes of ‘fictional explorers and vessels’ has, of course, garnered much public interest, and Star Trek’s Mr. Spock and the Firefly vessel Serenity may yet be memorialized on Charon. Certainly, it would be a fitting tribute to the late Leonard Nimoy. We’d like to see Clyde Tombaugh and Venetia Burney paid homage to on Pluto as well.
We’ve even proposed the discovery of a new moon be named after the mythological underworld character Alecto, complete with a Greek ‘ct’ spelling to honor Clyde Tombaugh.
The discovery and naming of Charon in 1978 by astronomer Robert Christy set a similar precedent. Christy choose the name of the mythological boatman who plied the river Styx (which also later became a Plutonian moon) as it included his wife Charlene’s nickname ‘Char.’ This shibboleth also set up a minor modern controversy as to the exact pronunciation of Charon, as the mythological character is pronounced with a hard ‘k’ sound, but most folks (including NASA) say the moon as ‘Sharon’ in keeping with Christy’s in-joke that slipped past the IAU.
And speaking of Pluto’s large moon, someone did rise to the occasion and take our ‘Charon challenge,’ we posed during the ongoing Pluto opposition season recently. Check out this amazing capture of the +17th magnitude moon winking in and out of view next to Pluto courtesy of Wendy Clark:
Click here to see the animation of the possible capture of Charon near Pluto. Image credit and copyright: Wendy Clark
Clark used the 17” iTelescope astrograph located at Siding Spring Observatory in Australia to tease out the possible capture of the itinerant moon.
Great job!
What’s in a name? What strange and wonderful discoveries await New Horizons this week? We should get our very first signal back tomorrow night, as New Horizons ‘phones home’ with its message that it survived the journey around 9:10 PM EDT/1:10 UT. Expect this following Wednesday—in the words of New Horizons principal Investigator Alan Stern—to begin “raining data,” as the phase of interpreting and evaluating information begins.
The women who power the New Horizons mission to Pluto. Image credit: SwRI/JHUAPL
And there’s more in store, as the New Horizons team will make the decision to maneuver the spacecraft for a rendezvous with a Kuiper Belt Object (KBO) next month. Said KBO flyby will occur in the 2019-2020 timeframe, and perhaps, we’ll one day see a Pluto orbiter mission or lander in the decades to come…
Maybe one way journeys to ‘the other Red Planet’ are the wave of the future.’ Pluto One anyone?
Astronomer Copernicus, or Conversations with God, by Matejko. Credit: frombork.art.pl/pl/
When it comes to understanding our place in the universe, few scientists have had more of an impact than Nicolaus Copernicus. The creator of the Copernican Model of the universe (aka. heliocentrism), his discovery that the Earth and other planets revolved the Sun triggered an intellectual revolution that would have far-reaching consequences.
In addition to playing a major part in the Scientific Revolution of the 17th and 18th centuries, his ideas changed the way people looked at the heavens, the planets, and would have a profound influence over men like Johannes Kepler, Galileo Galilei, Sir Isaac Newton and many others. In short, the “Copernican Revolution” helped to usher in the era of modern science.
Copernicus’ Early Life:
Copernicus was born on February 19th, 1473 in the city of Torun (Thorn) in the Crown of the Kingdom of Poland. The youngest of four children to a well-to-do merchant family, Copernicus and his siblings were raised in the Catholic faith and had many strong ties to the Church.
His older brother Andreas would go on to become an Augustinian canon, while his sister, Barbara, became a Benedictine nun and (in her final years) the prioress of a convent. Only his sister Katharina ever married and had children, which Copernicus looked after until the day he died. Copernicus himself never married or had any children of his own.
Nicolaus Copernicus portrait from Town Hall in Torun (Thorn), 1580. Credit: frombork.art.pl
Born in a predominately Germanic city and province, Copernicus acquired fluency in both German and Polish at a young age, and would go on to learn Greek and Italian during the course of his education. Given that it was the language of academia in his time, as well as the Catholic Church and the Polish royal court, Copernicus also became fluent in Latin, which the majority of his surviving works are written in.
Copernicus’ Education:
In 1483, Copernicus’ father (whom he was named after) died, whereupon his maternal uncle, Lucas Watzenrode the Younger, began to oversee his education and career. Given the connections he maintained with Poland’s leading intellectual figures, Watzenrode would ensure that Copernicus had great deal of exposure to some of the intellectual figures of his time.
Although little information on his early childhood is available, Copernicus’ biographers believe that his uncle sent him to St. John’ School in Torun, where he himself had been a master. Later, it is believed that he attended the Cathedral School at Wloclawek (located 60 km south-east Torun on the Vistula River), which prepared pupils for entrance to the University of Krakow – Watzenrode’s own Alma mater.
In 1491, Copernicus began his studies in the Department of Arts at the University of Krakow. However, he quickly became fascinated by astronomy, thanks to his exposure to many contemporary philosophers who taught or were associated with the Krakow School of Mathematics and Astrology, which was in its heyday at the time.
A comparison of the geocentric and heliocentric models of the universe. Credit: history.ucsb.edu
Copernicus’ studies provided him with a thorough grounding in mathematical-astronomical knowledge, as well as the philosophy and natural-science writings of Aristotle, Euclid, and various humanist writers. It was while at Krakow that Copernicus began collecting a large library on astronomy, and where he began his analysis of the logical contradictions in the two most popular systems of astronomy.
These models – Aristotle’s theory of homocentric spheres, and Ptolemy’s mechanism of eccentrics and epicycles – were both geocentric in nature. Consistent with classical astronomy and physics, they espoused that the Earth was at the center of the universe, and that the Sun, the Moon, the other planets, and the stars all revolved around it.
Before earning a degree, Copernicus left Krakow (ca. 1495) to travel to the court of his uncle Watzenrode in Warmia, a province in northern Poland. Having been elevated to the position of Prince-Bishop of Warmia in 1489, his uncle sought to place Copernicus in the Warmia canonry. However, Copernicus’ installation was delayed, which prompted his uncle to send him and his brother to study in Italy to further their ecclesiastic careers.
In 1497, Copernicus arrived in Bologna and began studying at the Bologna University of Jurists’. While there, he studied canon law, but devoted himself primarily to the study of the humanities and astronomy. It was also while at Bologna that he met the famous astronomer Domenico Maria Novara da Ferrara and became his disciple and assistant.
An illustration of the Ptolemaic geocentric system by Portuguese cosmographer and cartographer Bartolomeu Velho, 1568. Credit: bnf.fr
Over time, Copernicus’ began to feel a growing sense of doubt towards the Aristotelian and Ptolemaic models of the universe. These included the problematic explanations arising from the inconsistent motion of the planets (i.e. retrograde motion, equants, deferents and epicycles), and the fact that Mars and Jupiter appeared to be larger in the night sky at certain times than at others.
Hoping to resolve this, Copernicus used his time at the university to study Greek and Latin authors (i.e. Pythagoras, Cicero, Pliny the Elder, Plutarch, Heraclides and Plato) as well as the fragments of historic information the university had on ancient astronomical, cosmological and calendar systems – which included other (predominantly Greek and Arab) heliocentric theories.
In 1501, Copernicus moved to Padua, ostensibly to study medicine as part of his ecclesiastical career. Just as he had done at Bologna, Copernicus carried out his appointed studies, but remained committed to his own astronomical research. Between 1501 and 1503, he continued to study ancient Greek texts; and it is believed that it was at this time that his ideas for a new system of astronomy – whereby the Earth itself moved – finally crystallized.
The Copernican Model (aka. Heliocentrism):
In 1503, having finally earned his doctorate in canon law, Copernicus returned to Warmia where he would spend the remaining 40 years of his life. By 1514, he began making his Commentariolus (“Little Commentary”) available for his friends to read. This forty-page manuscript described his ideas about the heliocentric hypothesis, which was based on seven general principles.
These seven principles stated that: Celestial bodies do not all revolve around a single point; the center of Earth is the center of the lunar sphere—the orbit of the moon around Earth; all the spheres rotate around the Sun, which is near the center of the Universe; the distance between Earth and the Sun is an insignificant fraction of the distance from Earth and Sun to the stars, so parallax is not observed in the stars; the stars are immovable – their apparent daily motion is caused by the daily rotation of Earth; Earth is moved in a sphere around the Sun, causing the apparent annual migration of the Sun; Earth has more than one motion; and Earth’s orbital motion around the Sun causes the seeming reverse in direction of the motions of the planets.
Andreas Cellarius’s illustration of the Copernican system, from the Harmonia Macrocosmica (1708). Credit: Public Domain
Thereafter he continued gathering data for a more detailed work, and by 1532, he had come close to completing the manuscript of his magnum opus – De revolutionibus orbium coelestium(On the Revolutions of the Heavenly Spheres). In it, he advanced his seven major arguments, but in more detailed form and with detailed computations to back them up.
However, due to fears that the publication of his theories would lead to condemnation from the church (as well as, perhaps, worries that his theory presented some scientific flaws) he withheld his research until a year before he died. It was only in 1542, when he was near death, that he sent his treatise to Nuremberg to be published.
Copernicus’ Death:
Towards the end of 1542, Copernicus suffered from a brain hemorrhage or stroke which left him paralyzed. On May 24th, 1543, he died at the age of 70 and was reportedly buried in the Frombork Cathedral in Frombork, Poland. It is said that on the day of his death, May 24th 1543 at the age of 70, he was presented with an advance copy of his book, which he smiled upon before passing away.
In 2005, an archaeological team conducted a scan of the floor of Frombork Cathedral, declaring that they had found Copernicus’ remains. Afterwards, a forensic expert from the Polish Police Central Forensic Laboratory used the unearthed skull to reconstruct a face that closely resembled Copernicus’ features. The expert also determined that the skull belonged to a man who had died around age 70 – Copernicus’ age at the time of his death.
These findings were backed up in 2008 when a comparative DNA analysis was made from both the remains and two hairs found in a book Copernicus was known to have owned (Calendarium Romanum Magnum, by Johannes Stoeffler). The DNA results were a match, proving that Copernicus’ body had indeed been found.
Copernicus’ 2010 grave in Frombork Cathedral, acknowledging him as a church canon and the father of heliocentricism. Credit: Wikipedia/Holger Weinandt
On May 22nd, 2010, Copernicus was given a second funeral in a Mass led by Józef Kowalczyk, the former papal nuncio to Poland and newly named Primate of Poland. Copernicus’ remains were reburied in the same spot in Frombork Cathedral, and a black granite tombstone (shown above) now identifies him as the founder of the heliocentric theory and also a church canon. The tombstone bears a representation of Copernicus’ model of the solar system – a golden sun encircled by six of the planets.
Copernicus’ Legacy:
Despite his fears about his arguments producing scorn and controversy, the publication of his theories resulted in only mild condemnation from religious authorities. Over time, many religious scholars tried to argue against his model, using a combination of Biblical canon, Aristotelian philosophy, Ptolemaic astronomy, and then-accepted notions of physics to discredit the idea that the Earth itself would be capable of motion.
However, within a few generation’s time, Copernicus’ theory became more widespread and accepted, and gained many influential defenders in the meantime. These included Galileo Galilei (1564-1642), who’s investigations of the heavens using the telescope allowed him to resolve what were seen at the time as flaws in the heliocentric model.
These included the relative changes in the appearances of Mars and Jupiter when they are in opposition vs. conjunction to the Earth. Whereas they appear larger to the naked eye than Copernicus’ model suggested they should, Galileo proved that this is an illusion caused by the behavior of light at a distance, and can be resolved with a telescope.
1973 Federal Republic of Germany 5-mark silver coin commemorating 500th anniversary of Copernicus’ birth. Credit: Wikipedia/Berlin-George
Through the use of the telescope, Galileo also discovered moons orbiting Jupiter, Sunspots, and the imperfections on the Moon’s surface, all of which helped to undermine the notion that the planets were perfect orbs, rather than planets similar to Earth. While Galileo’s advocacy of Copernicus’ theories resulted in his house arrest, others soon followed.
German mathematician and astronomer Johannes Kepler (1571-1630) also helped to refine the heliocentric model with his introduction of elliptical orbits. Prior to this, the heliocentric model still made use of circular orbits, which did not explain why planets orbited the Sun at different speeds at different times. By showing how the planet’s sped up while at certain points in their orbits, and slowed down in others, Kepler resolved this.
In addition, Copernicus’ theory about the Earth being capable of motion would go on to inspire a rethinking of the entire field of physics. Whereas previous ideas of motion depended on an outside force to instigate and maintain it (i.e. wind pushing a sail) Copernicus’ theories helped to inspire the concepts of gravity and inertia. These ideas would be articulated by Sir Isaac Newton, who’s Principia formed the basis of modern physics and astronomy.
Today, Copernicus is honored (along with Johannes Kepler) by the liturgical calendar of the Episcopal Church (USA) with a feast day on May 23rd. In 2009, the discoverers of chemical element 112 (which had previously been named ununbium) proposed that the International Union of Pure and Applied Chemistry rename it copernicum (Cn) – which they did in 2011.
Mosaic image of the Copernicus Crater on the Moon, taken by the Lunar Reconnaissance Orbiter, . Credit: NASA/LRO
In 1973, on the 500th anniversary of his birthday, the Federal Republic of Germany (aka. West Germany) issued a 5 Mark silver coin (shown above) that bore Copernicus’ name and a representation of the heliocentric universe on one side.
In August of 1972, the Copernicus– an Orbiting Astronomical Observatory created by NASA and the UK’s Science Research Council – was launched to conduct space-based observations. Originally designated OAO-3, the satellite was renamed in 1973 in time for the 500th anniversary of Copernicus’ birth. Operating until February of 1981, Copernicus proved to be the most successful of the OAO missions, providing extensive X-ray and ultraviolet information on stars and discovering several long-period pulsars.
Two craters, one located on the Moon, the other on Mars, are named in Copernicus’ honor. The European Commission and the European Space Agency (ESA) is currently conducting the Copernicus Program. Formerly known as Global Monitoring for Environment and Security (GMES), this program aims at achieving an autonomous, multi-level operational Earth observatory.
On February 19th, 2013, the world celebrated the 540th anniversary of Copernicus’ birthday. Even now, almost five and a half centuries later, he is considered one of the greatest astronomers and scientific minds that ever lived. In addition to revolutionizing the fields of physics, astronomy, and our very concept of the laws of motion, the tradition of modern science itself owes a great debt to this noble scholar who placed the truth above all else.
In just a few short weeks, NASA’s New Horizons spacecraft will make its historic flyby of Pluto and its moons. Solar panels are unable to operate in the dim nether regions of the outer solar system, and instead, New Horizons employs something that every spacecraft that has thus far ventured beyond Jupiter has carried in its tool kit: a plutonium-powered Radioisotope Thermoelectric Generator, or RTG.
The use of nuclear power to explore space is one of the few happy chapters of the post atomic age, and nuclear power may one day give us access to the stars.
In the 1950s, atomic energy was seen as a panacea as well as a curse, a sort of Sword of Damocles that both hung over the human race, while also holding the promise of its salvation. This was before the disasters in Fukushima Daiichi, Chernobyl and Three Mile Island, which would serve to sour the public to all things nuclear.
EBR-1, The first commercial nuclear power plant to go online (EBR-1), located in Idaho. Image credit: David Dickinson
But early space pioneers also recognized the potential for nuclear energy in space exploration. One of the more bizarre proposals of the early Space Age was a plan named Project A119 which called for the United States to detonate a nuclear weapon on the Moon in full view of the Soviet Union as a show of power. Another interesting proposal dubbed Project Orion called for the construction of an interstellar spacecraft that would be propelled by atomic bombs detonated to its aft. And the very first human artifact shot into space may well have been a one ton steel plate that was accidentally propelled at high speed skyward during the Pascal B nuclear test in the Operation Plumbbob series on August 27th, 1957. And the United States did indeed detonate nuclear weapons in space before the advent of the Limited Test Ban Treaty of 1967 that later forbade such tests. One amazing (and, as a child of the Cold War, very eerie to watch) such test known as Starfish Prime was carried out over the South Pacific in 1962:
One of the first spacecraft that sported an RTG was the Transit-4A satellite launched on June 29th, 1961. Another similar satellite in the series, Transit-5BN-3, was lost shortly after launch along with its plutonium-fueled RTG, which reentered over the Indian Ocean. The Soviet satellite Kosmos 954 also reentered over the Canadian high Arctic in early 1978 along with its onboard nuclear reactor.
And when Apollo 13 returned to Earth, the crew jettisoned the Aquarius lunar landing module over the Pacific, where it reentered along with its plutonium RTG meant for the ALSEP experiments that the Apollo astronauts placed on the Moon during every mission.
Aquarius after separation. Image credit: Apollo 13/NASA
Every launch from Cape Canaveral of a nuclear RTG is sure to draw a scattering of protesters, though NASA estimated a catastrophic launch failure involving an RTG rupture during the New Horizons launch at 1-in-360. These fears reached a crescendo during the launch of Cassini in 1997, which also featured an Earth slingshot flyby on August 18th, 1999 en route to Saturn.
A nuclear RTG works by utilizing the waste heat generated by the radioactive decay of plutonium-238. This not only has a half-life of 87.7 years, but it also generates a very respectable 560 watt-seconds per kilogram per second. Unfortunately, the stuff we weaponize for nuclear bombs is a separate isotope known as Pu-239, and it can’t be repurposed for RTG use. The production of plutonium-239 for nuclear weapons during the Cold War did, however, also assure that the capability to also create Pu-238 for spaceflight was on hand until production was ended in the United States in 1989.
A glowing pellet of Pu-238. Image credit: NASA/DoE
A roll call of RTG-equipped spacecraft reads like a ‘Who’s Who’ of outer solar system space exploration and includes: Pioneer 10 and 11, Galileo, Cassini, the Mars Science Laboratory, Voyagers 1 and 2, Vikings 1 and 2, and the aforementioned New Horizons spacecraft bound for Pluto.
Fun Fact: the plutonium powering Curiosity as it explores Mars was actually bought by NASA from the Russians.
A close up of MSL’s MMRTG. Image credit: NASA/LBNL
As of this writing, the Mars Rover 2020 mission is the next spacecraft to break the surly bonds that will sport, like Curiosity, a plutonium-powered MMRTG. A proposed Uranus Orbiter mission named HORUS (This stands for—deep breath— the Herschel Orbiter for Reconnaissance of the Uranus System, because ‘Uranus Probe’ just doesn’t sound right) would have also utilized and RTG. The Europa Clipper mission to Jupiter’s moon Europa set to launch around 2025 chose solar cells over a nuclear RTG, though it’ll have to thread through the perilous radiation environment surrounding Jupiter. In fact, the Juno spacecraft set to enter orbit around the planet Jupiter next year will be the first Jovian mission that won’t utilize nuclear power, though it requires three enormous solar panels to compensate.
Just how much plutonium NASA has on hand courtesy of the Department of Energy is classified for security reasons, but it’s thought to have enough for one large and one scout-class mission remaining. New Horizons incorporates 10.9 kilograms of plutonium, and it’s interesting to note that any alien civilization that finds a human spacecraft orbiting the plane of our Milky Way galaxy millions of years hence could date its manufacture from the radioactive decay of what very little Pu-238 versus decay isotopes remains in its RTG.
A close-up of New Horizons encapsulated in its launch fairing shortly after its RTG was installed. Image credit: KSC/NASA
NASA has announced that the US Department of Energy will indeed resume the production of plutonium to the tune of about 1.5 to 2 kilograms a year starting in 2016. On the downside, NASA did, however, halt the development of its Advanced Stirling Radioisotope Generator (ASRG) in 2013. This is a somewhat contradictory decision, fueled more by politics than practicality given the current scarcity of plutonium. The ASRG design was to be four times more efficient than current MMRTGs (MM stands for Multi-Mission) and would have thus utilized less of the dwindling stockpile of existing Pu-238.
Sadly, the lingering shortage of plutonium may have a dire impact on the future of outer solar system space exploration. As Cassini, New Horizons and the Voyager spacecraft wrap up their respective missions, our ‘eyes on the outer solar system’ may go dark, as the current golden era of planetary exploration draws to a close for now, or at least, awaits a new generation of plutonium-powered spacecraft to take up the mantle.
Out with the old... changing out the historic coundown clock at the Kennedy Space Center, perhaps an easier 'time change' than the insertion of the leap second. Image credit: NASA/Frankie Martin
The month of June 2015 is just a tad longer than usual… but not for the reason you’ve been told.
Chances are, you’ll soon be hearing that we’re tacking on an extra second to the very end of June 30th, though the reason why is a bit more complex than the explanation you’ll be hearing.
It’s an error that comes around and is repeated about every 500 days or so, as we add a leap second to June 30th or December 31st.
‘The rotation of the Earth is slowing down,’ your local weather newscaster/website/anonymous person on Twitter will say. ‘This is why we need to add in an extra second every few years, to keep our accounting for time in sync.’
The observed variation of the Earth’s rotation in milliseconds since the adoption of the leap second. Image credit: The United States Naval Observatory
Now, I know what you’re thinking.
Doesn’t adding a second once every 18-24 months or so add up to an awful lot? Are we really slowing down to the tune of (calculator apps out) over 11 minutes per millennium? What’s going on here?
Here’s what your weatherman won’t tell you.
The story of the second and the insertion of the modern day leap second is a curious case of modern astronomical history.
Universe Today recently covered the quirks of the Earth’s rotation on this past weekend’s June solstice. We are indeed slowing down, to the tune of an average of 2.3 milliseconds (thousands of a second) of a day per century in the current epoch, mostly due to the tidal braking action of the Moon. The advent of anthropogenic global warming will also incur variations in the Earth’s rotation rate as well.
Historically, the second was defined as 1/86,400th (60 seconds x 60 minutes x 24 hours) of a mean solar day. We’ve actually been on an astronomical standard of time of one sort or another for thousands of years, though it’s only been over the last two centuries that we’ve really needed—or could even reliably measure—time to an accuracy of less than a second. These early observations were made by astronomers using transit instruments as they watched stars ‘cross the wire’ in an eyepiece using nothing more sophisticated than a Mark-1 eyeball.
A transit instrument on display at the Quito Observatory in Quito, Ecuador. Image credit: David Dickinson
The whole affair was addressed in 1956 by the International Committee for Weights and Measures, which defined what was known as the ephemeris, or astronomical second as a fraction—1/31,556,925.9747th to be precise—of the tropical year set at noon on January 1st 1900.
Simon Newcomb. Image in the Public Domain
Now, this decision relied on measurements contained in Simon Newcomb’s 1895 book Tables of the Sun to describe the motion of the Earth. Extrapolating back, a day was exactly 86,400 modern seconds long… in 1820.
In the intervening 195 years, the modern day is now about an extra 1/500th (86,400.002) of an SI second long. In turn, the SI second was defined in 1967 as:
The duration of 9,192,631,770 periods of radiation corresponding to the transition between two hyperfine levels of the ground state of the Cesium-133 atom.
An atomic clock at the Federal Office of Metrology in Bern, Switzerland. Image credit: Wikimedia Commons/Public Domain
Now, physicists love to have an SI definition that isn’t reliant on an artifact. In fact, the pesky holdout known as the kilogram is the last of the seven SI base units that is based on an object and not a constant that anyone can measure in a lab worldwide. Simply locking a second at 1/86,400th of a mean solar day would mean that the second itself was slowly lengthening, creating its own can of worms…
So the leap second came to be, as a compromise between UT1 (Astronomical observed time) and UTC (Coordinated Universal Time), which defines a day as being comprised of 86,400 SI seconds. These days, the United States Naval Observatory utilizes observations which include quasars, GPS satellites and laser ranging experiments left on the Moon by Apollo astronauts to measure UT1.
The difference between Universal and Terrestrial Time is often referred to as Delta T.
An 1853 Universal Dial Plate depicting time worldwide before the adoption of Universal Time. Image credit: Wikimedia Commons/Public Domain image
The first leap second was inserted on June 30th 1972, and 25 leap seconds have been introduced up until the extra June 30th second next week.
But the Earth’s rotation isn’t actually slowing down a second every time we add one… this is the point most folks get wrong. Think of it this way: the modern Gregorian calendar inserts a leap day every four years to keep it in sync with the mean tropical year… but the length of the year itself doesn’t increase by a day every four years. Those fractions of a second per day just keep adding up until the difference between UT1 and UTC mounts towards one second, and the good folks at the International Earth Rotation Service decide something must be done.
And don’t fear the leap second, though we’ve already seen many ‘Y2K redux’ cries already cropping up around the web. We do this every 18-24 months or so, and Skynet hasn’t become self-aware… or at least, not yet.
Of course, programmers hate the leap second, and much like the patchwork of daylight saving time and time zone rules, it causes a colossal headache to assure all of those exceptions and rules are accounted for. Consider, for example, how many transactions (emails, tweets, etc) fly around the globe every second. Many services such as Google instead apply what’s known as a ‘leap smear,’ which slices the leap second out into tinier micro-second sized bites.
With the current system in place, leap seconds will become ever more frequent as the Earth’s rotation continues to slow. There have been calls over the years to even do away with the astronomical standard for measuring time entirely, and go exclusively to the SI second and UTC. This would also create a curious situation of not only, say, throwing off local sunset and sunrise times, but users of GOTO telescope pointing systems would probably note errors within a few decades or so.
This coming November, The World Radiocommunication Conference being held in Geneva, Switzerland is looking to address the issue, though we suspect that, for now at least, the future of the leap second is secure… perhaps, if we did indeed go off the astronomical time standard for the first time in the history of modern human civilization, a leap hour might have to be instituted somewhere around oh say, 2600 AD.
What do you, the reader think? Should it be ‘down with the leap second,’ or should we keep our clocks in lock step with the cosmos?
Neil Armstrong is considered one of the greatest heroes of the space age, earning renown within the United States and the world over for being the first person to land a spacecraft on the Moon and the first person to set foot on the Lunar surface. But what is the story behind the man? As with all heroes and inspiration figures, the road that led to his famous declaration “One small step for [a] man,” began early on in his life.
Early Life:
Neil was born on August 5, 1930, in Auglaize County near Wapakoneta, Ohio to Stephen Koenig Armstrong and Viola Louise Engel. His father worked as an auditor for the Ohio government, which meant that the family moved around quite a lot during Neil’s formative years. In fact, the Armstrong’s lived in a total of 20 towns for the first few years of Neil’s life.
From an early age, Neil demonstrated a deep passion for flying. When he was just two-years-old, his father took him to the Cleveland Air Races. On July 20, 1936, when he was five, he experienced his first airplane flight in Warren, Ohio, where he and his father took a ride in a Ford Trimotor airplane (also known as the “Tin Goose”).
The 1929 Ford Tri-Motor, which Armstrong flew in with his father on July 20th, 1936, on display at Purdue Airport. Credit: Experimental Aircraft Association
As a child, Armstrong was also active in the Boy Scouts and obtained the rank of Eagle Scout. As a teenager, he began taking flying lessons and worked at the local airport and at other odd jobs in order to pay for it. At the age of 16, before he even had his driver’s license, Neil earned his pilot’s license and began down the path that would eventually take him into space.
At the age of 17, Armstrong went off to study aeronautical engineering. Although he had been accepted to the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, he decided instead to go to Purdue University in West Lafayette, Indiana, in order to be closer to home. His college tuition was paid for under the Holloway Plan, where applicants committed to two years of study, followed by three years of service in the U.S. Navy, before completed the final two years of their degree program.
Military Pilot:
In January of 1949, at the age of 18, Armstrong was called-up for military service and went off to the Naval Air Station in Pensacola, Florida, to begin his flight training. This lasted almost 18 months, during which time he qualified for carrier landing aboard the USS Cabot and USS Wright. On August 16th, 1950, two weeks after his 20th birthday, Armstrong was informed by letter that he was a fully qualified Naval Aviator.
Two F9F-2 Panthers over Korea, with Armstrong piloting S-116 (left). Credit: U.S. Navy National Museum of Naval Aviation
In June 1951, the carrier he had been assigned to – the USS Essex – set sail for Korea, where his unit (VF-51, an all-jet squadron) would act as a ground-attack squadron. In the course of the war, he flew 78 missions and accumulated approximately 121 hours of combat experience. His plane was shot down once, but Armstrong managed to eject and was rescued without incident or serious injury.
For his service to his country, he received several commendations, including the Air Medal for his first 20 combat missions, a Gold Star for the next 20, and the Korean Service Medal and Engagement Star. Armstrong left the Navy at age 22 on August 23rd, 1952, and became a Lieutenant, Junior Grade, in the U.S. Naval Reserve. He remained in the reserve for eight years, then resigned his commission on October 21st, 1960.
After his service in Korea, Armstrong returned to his studies at Purdue. In 1955, he was awarded a Bachelor of Science degree in Aeronautical Engineering, and a Master of Science degree in Aerospace Engineering from the University of Southern California in 1970. Armstrong would also be awarded honorary doctorates by several universities later on in life.
Armstrong, at the age of 30, pictured in front of X-15 #1 after a research flight in 1960. Credit: NASA
It was also during his time at Purdue that Armstrong met Janet Elizabeth Shearon, the woman he would go on to marry. After graduating, the two moved to Cleveland, Ohio, where Armstrong was working at the National Advisory Committee for Aeronautics’ (NACA) Lewis Flight Propulsion Laboratory as a research test pilot. The two married on January 28th, 1956, at the Congregational Church in Wilmette, Illinois.
After 18-months, the Armstrongs moved to Edwards Air Force Base in California where he began working for the NACA’s High-Speed Flight Station. While there, he flew multiple experimental aircraft, including the Bell X-1B, the T-33 Shooting Star, the Lockheed F-104, and the North American X-15. He also met legendary test pilot Chuck Yeager, and was involved in several incidents that went down in Andrew’s AFB folklore.
Gemini Program:
In September of 1962, Armstrong joined the NASA Astronaut Corps as part of what the press dubbed “the New Nine” – a group of nine astronauts that were selected for the Gemini and Apollo programs. These programs, which were the successor to the Mercury Program – which sought to place an astronaut in orbit (popularized by the movie The Right Stuff) – were designed with the intent of conducting long-term space flights and a manned mission to the Moon.
The Agena Target Vehicle as seen from Gemini 8 during rendezvous. Credit: NASA
Neil’s first mission to space would take place four years later, on March 16th, 1966, aboard a Titan II spacecraft, with Neil acting as Command Pilot and fellow astronaut David Scott as Pilot. Known as Gemini 8, this mission was the most complex mission to date, involving a rendezvous and docking with an unmanned Agena target vehicle, and some extra-vehicular activity (EVA) being performed.
The docking procedure was a success, but due to mechanical failure, the mission had to be cut short. On September 12th, 1966, Armstrong served as the Capsule Communicator (CAPCOM) for the Gemini 11 mission, remaining in communication with astronauts Pete Conrad and Dick Gordon as they conducted spacecraft rendezvous and EVA operations.
On April 5th, 1967, just three and half months after the Apollo 1 fire took place, Deke Slayton – one of the Mercury Seven astronauts and NASA’s first Chief of the Astronaut Office – brought Armstrong and many other veterans of project Gemini together and told that they would be flying the first Lunar missions.
Apollo 11 Crew Photo, showing Neil Armstrong (left), Buzz Aldrin (right), and Michael Collins (middle). Credit: NASA
Over the next six months, Armstrong and the other astronauts began training for a possible trip to the Moon, and Neil was named backup commander for the Apollo 8 mission. On December 23rd, 1968, as Apollo 8 orbited the Moon, Slayton informed Armstrong that he would be commander for the Apollo 11 mission, joined by Buzz Aldrin as lunar module pilot and Michael Collins as command module pilot.
Apollo 11:
On July 16th, 1969, the historic mission blasted off from the Kennedy Space Center in Florida at 13:32:00 UTC (9:32:00 a.m. EDT local time). Thousands of people crowded the highways and beaches near the launch site to watch the Saturn V rocket ascend into the sky. Millions more watched from home, and President Richard M. Nixon viewed the proceedings from the Oval Office at the White House.
The rocket entered the Earth’s orbit some twelve minutes later. After one and a half orbits, the S-IVB third-stage engine pushed the spacecraft onto its trajectory toward the Moon. After 30 minutes, the command/service module pair separated from this last remaining Saturn V stage, docked with the Lunar Module, and the combined spacecraft headed for the Moon.
The Apollo 11 Command and Service Modules (CSM) are photographed from the Lunar Module (LM) in lunar orbit during the Apollo 11 lunar landing mission. Credit: NASA
On July 19th at 17:21:50 UTC, Apollo 11 passed behind the Moon and fired its service propulsion engine to enter lunar orbit. On July 20th, the Lunar Module Eagle separated from the Command Module Columbia, and the crew commenced their Lunar descent. When Armstrong looked outside, he saw that the computer’s landing target was in a boulder-strewn area which he judged to be unsafe. As such, he took over manual control of the LM, and the craft landed at 20:17:40 UTC with only 25 seconds of fuel left.
Armstrong then radioed to Mission Control and announced their arrival by saying: “Houston, Tranquility Base here. The Eagle has landed.” Once the crew had gone through their checklist and depressurized the cabin, the Eagles’ hatch was opened and Armstrong began walking down the ladder to the Lunar surface first.
When he reached the bottom of the ladder, Armstrong said: “I’m going to step off the LEM now” (referring to the Lunar Excursion Module). He then turned and set his left boot on the surface of the Moon at 2:56 UTC July 21st, 1969, and spoke the famous words “That’s one small step for [a] man, one giant leap for mankind.”
About 20 minutes after the first step, Aldrin joined Armstrong on the surface and became the second human to set foot on the Moon. The duo then began their tasks of unveiling a plaque commemorating their flight, setting up the Early Apollo Scientific Experiment Package, and planting the flag of the United States. The crew then returned to the LM and blasted off, commencing their return trip to Earth.
Neil Armstrong is visible in the helmet of Buzz Aldrin during the Apollo 11 landing in July 1969. Credit: NASA
Upon returning to Earth, the Apollo 11 crew went on a 45-day tour around the world called the “Giant Leap” tour. Armstrong also traveled to the Soviet Union to talk at the 13th annual conference of the International Committee on Space Research. While there, he met Valentina Tereshkova (the first female astronaut to go into space), Premier Alexei Kosygin, and was given a tour of the Yuri Gagarin Cosmonaut Training Center.
Shortly after the Apollo 11 mission, Armstrong announced that he did not intend to fly in space again; and in 1971, resigned from NASA. He then settled into a life of teaching, accepting a position in the Department of Aerospace Engineering at the University of Cincinnati. After eight years, he resigned. He also spent much of this time acting as a corporate spokesperson and serving on the board of directors of several companies.
Retirement and Death:
During his post-Apollo years, Armstrong also served on two spaceflight accident investigations. The first took place in 1970, where he served as part of the panel that investigated the Apollo 13 mission, presented a detailed chronology of the mission and made recommendations. In 1986, President Reagan appointed him as vice-chairman of the Rogers Commission to investigate the Space-shuttle Challenger disaster of that year.
Neil Armstrong was buried at sea on Sept. 14th, 2012. The ceremony took place on board the USS Philippine Sea (CG-58) in the Atlantic Ocean. Credit: NASA
In 2012, Armstrong underwent vascular bypass surgery to relieve blocked coronary arteries. Although he was reportedly recovering well, he died on August 25th, in Cincinnati, Ohio. In a ceremony that was held aboard the USS Philippine Sea (an American missile cruiser) Armstrong was buried with honors in a ceremony where a U.S. Navy ceremonial guard draped an American flag over his ashes before commended them to the sea.
For his years of service, Armstrong has received numerous medals including the Presidential Medal of Freedom, the Congressional Space Medal of Honor, the Congressional Gold Medal, the Robert J. Collier Trophy, and the Sylvanus Thayer Award.
Neil Armstrong has had over a dozen elementary, middle and high schools named in his honor, and many streets, buildings, schools, and other places around the world have been named in honor of Armstrong and/or the Apollo 11 mission. The lunar crater Armstrong, which sits approx. 50 km (31 miles) from the Apollo 11 landing site, and asteroid 6469 Armstrong are named in his honor.
Armstrong was also inducted into the Aerospace Walk of Honor, the National Aviation Hall of Fame, and the United States Astronaut Hall of Fame. Armstrong and his Apollo 11 crewmates were the 1999 recipients of the Langley Gold Medal from the Smithsonian Institution. His alma mater, Purdue University, also named a new engineering hall after him, which was completed in 2007.
NGC 2419 as imaged by the Hubble Space Telescope. Image credit: NASA/STScl
Turns out, we may not know our extragalactic neighbors as well as we thought.
One of the promises held forth with the purchase of our first GoTo telescope way back in the late 1990s was the ability to quickly and easily hunt down ever fainter deep sky fuzzies. No more juggling star charts and red headlamps, no more star-hopping. Heck, it was fun to just aim the scope at a favorable target field, hit ‘identify,’ and see what it turned up.
One of our more interesting ‘discoveries’ on these expeditions was NGC 2419, a globular cluster that my AstroMaster GoTo controller (featuring a 10K memory database!) triumphantly announced was an ‘Intergalactic Wanderer…’
Or is it? The case for NGC 2419 as a lonely globular wandering the cosmic void between the galaxies is a romantic and intriguing notion, and one you see repeated around the echo chamber that is the modern web. First observed by Sir William Herschel in 1788 and re-observed by his son John in 1833, the debate has swung back and forth as to whether NGC 2419 is a true globular or—as has been also suggested of the magnificent southern sky cluster Omega Centauri—the remnant of a dwarf spheroidal galaxy torn apart by our Milky Way. Lord Rosse also observed NGC 2419 with the 72-inch Leviathan of Parsonstown, and Harlow Shapley made a distance estimate of about 163,000 light years to NGC 2419 in 1922.
The relative distances of NGC 2419, the LMC, SMC and M31. Created by author using NASA graphics.
Today, we know that NGC 2419 is about 270,000 light years from the Sun, and about 300,000 light years from the core of our galaxy. Think of this: we actually see NGC 2419 as it appeared back in the middle of the Pleistocene Epoch, a time when modern homo sapiens were still the new hipsters on the evolutionary scene of life on Earth. What’s more, photometric studies over the past decade suggest there is a true gravitational link between NGC 2419 and the Milky Way. This would mean at its current distance, NGC 2419 would orbit our galaxy once every 3 billion years, about 75% the age of the Earth itself.
NGC 2419 and the nearby +7 magnitude star HIP 37133. Image credit and copyright: Joseph Brimacombe
This hands down makes NGC 2419 the distant of the more than 150 globular clusters known to orbit our galaxy.
At an apparent magnitude of +9 and 6 arc minutes in size, NGC 2419 occupies an area of the sky otherwise devoid of globulars. Most tend to lie towards the galactic core as seen from our solar vantage point, and in fact, there are no bright globulars within 60 degrees of NGC 2419. The cluster sits 7 degrees north of the bright star Castor just across the border of Gemini in the constellation of the Lynx at Right Ascension 7 Hours, 38 minutes and 9 seconds and declination +38 degrees, 52 minutes and 55 seconds. Mid-January is the best time to spy NGC 2419 when it sits roughly opposite to the Sun , though June still sees the cluster 20 degrees above the western horizon at dusk before solar conjunction in mid-July.
The location of NGC 2419 in the night sky. Image credit: Starry Night Education software
We know globular clusters (say ‘globe’ -ular, not “glob’ -ular) are some of the most ancient structures in the universe due to their abundance of metal poor, first generation stars. In fact, it was a major mystery up until about a decade ago as to just how these clusters could appear to be older than the universe they inhabit. Today, we know that NGC 2419 is about 12.3 billion years old, and we’ve refined the age of the Universe as per data from the Planck spacecraft down to 13.73 (+/-0.12) billion years.
What would the skies look like from a planet inside NGC 2419? Well, in addition to the swarm of hundreds of thousands of nearby stars, the Milky Way galaxy itself would be a conspicuous object extending about 30 degrees across and shining at magnitude -2. Move NGC 2419 up to 10 parsecs distant, and it would rival the brightness of our First Quarter Moon and be visible in the daytime shining at magnitude -9.5.
The view of the Milky Way galaxy as seen from NGC 2419. Image Credit; Starry Night Education Software
And ironically, another 2007 study has suggested that the relative velocity of Large and Small Magellanic Clouds suggest that they may not be bound to our galaxy, but are instead first time visitors passing by.
And speaking of passing by, yet another study suggests that the Milky Way and the Andromeda galaxy set on a collision course billions of years hence may be in contact… now.
The view of the Andromeda galaxy as seen from NGC 2419. Image credit: Starry Night Education software
Mind not blown yet?
A 2014 study looking at extragalactic background light during a mission known as CIBER suggests that there may actually be more stars wandering the universe than are bound to galaxies…
But that’s enough paradigm-shifting for one day. Be sure to check out NGC 2419 and friends and remember, everything you learned about the universe as a kid, is likely to be false.
Situated on the south shore of New Jersey’s Shark River lies 37 acres of land known as Camp Evans. On April 1, 2015, I was privileged to attend the dedication ceremony celebrating Camp Evans’ becoming one of only 2532 locations in the United States designated as a National Historic Landmark.
In 1912, Gugliemlo Marconi and his company, the American Marconi Company, constructed the Belmar Receiving Station which became part of the wireless girdle of the earth.
In 1917, the site was acquired as part of the Navy’s World War I “Trans-Atlantic Communication System.”
In 1941, the Army Signal Corps purchased the property to construct a top-secret research facility, and it was renamed Evans Signal Laboratory which later became Camp Evans Signal Laboratory.
Following a visit in late October, 1953, Senator Joseph McCarthy described Camp Evans as a “house of spies.” Following an investigation that spanned 1953-1954, not one single employee was prosecuted.
But perhaps Camp Evans’ most interesting – and surprising – place in history begins with a small, informal research project taking place on a parcel of land in the Camp’s northeast corner. The ramifications of this project would ultimately give birth the to Space Age, lead to the development of the US Space Program, and start the Cold War.
Following the end of WWII, American scientists at Camp Evans continued their investigation into whether the earth’s ionosphere could be penetrated using radio waves – a feat that had been studied prior to the end of the War but had long been believed impossible. Project Diana, led by Lt. Col. John H. DeWitt, Jr., aimed to prove that it could indeed be penetrated. A group of radar scientists awaiting their discharge from the Army modified a radar antenna – including significantly boosting its output power – and placed it in the northeast corner of Camp Evans.
Location of the Radar Antenna on the Northeast Corner of Camp Evans Circa 1946. [photo: InfoAge website]
On the morning of January 10, 1946, with the dish pointed at the rising moon, a series of radar signals was broadcast. Exactly 2.5 seconds after each signal’s broadcast, its corresponding echo was detected. This was significant because 2.5 seconds is precisely the time required for light to travel the round trip distance between the earth and the moon. Project Diana – and her scientists – had successfully demonstrated that the ionosphere was, in fact, penetrable, and communication beyond our planet was possible. And thus was born the Space Age – as well as the field of Radar Astronomy.
SCR-271 Bedspring RADAR Antenna Pointing at the Moon [photo: David Mofenson; InfoAge website]By mid-1958 the United States had launched the Television InfraRed Observation Satellite (TIROS) program designed to study the viability of using satellite imagery and observations as a means of studying the Earth and improving weather forecasting. As part of this effort, the original “Moonbounce” antenna was replaced with a 60-foot parabolic radio antenna dish which would serve as the project’s downlink Ground Communication Station.
60-Meter Parabolic Dish Being Constructed on Project Diana Site [photo: Frank Vosk; InfoAge website]On April 1, 1960, NASA successfully launched its TIROS I satellite and the “Silent Sentinel Radio Dish” at Camp Evans began receiving its data being sent down to earth.
TIROS I Satellite [photo: NASA; National Space Science Data Center]The resulting images were so astonishing and groundbreaking that the first photos received from TIROS I were immediately printed and flown to Washington where they were presented to President Eisenhower by NASA Administrator T. Keith Glennan.
President Eisenhower and NASA Administrator Glennan Viewing the First Satellite Images from TIROS I. [photo: wikimedia commons]The TIROS program would go on to be instrumental in meteorological applications not only because it provided the first accurate weather forecasts and hurricane tracking based on satellite information, but also because it began providing continuous coverage of the earth’s weather in 1962, and ultimately lead to the development of more sophisticated observational satellites. [1]
In addition to serving as the downlink Ground Communications Center for the TIROS I and TIROS II satellites, this same dish has also tracked:
Explorer 1, America’s first satellite, in January, 1958 (pre-dates the launch of TIROS I), and
Sadly, by the mid-1970s, the technology within the TIROS dish (officially named the TLM-18 Space Telemetry Antenna) had become obsolete, and it was retired. Camp Evans was decommissioned and closed in 1993 and its land was transferred to the National Park Service. But in 2012, Camp Evans was designated a National Historic Landmark, and thus began a new, revitalized era for this immensely significant site. In addition to the TIROS Dish and the InfoAge Science History Learning Center and Museum, Camp Evans is also home to:
The Military History Museum;
The Radio Technology Museum;
The National Broadcasters’ Hall of Fame.
The Apollo Guidance Computer, Just One of the Many Historical Exhibits on Display at the InfoAge Science History Learning Center and Museum at Historic Camp Evans [photo: Robert Raia Photography]
DISH RESTORATION
In 2001, InfoAge stepped in and began preserving and restoring the mechanical systems of the TIROS dish. In 2006, a donation from Harris Corporation allowed the dish to be completely repainted and preserved.
Norman Jarosik, Senior Research Physicist at Princeton University and Daniel Marlow, PhD. and Evans Crawford 1911 Professor of Physics at Princeton, as well as countless volunteers from the University, InfoAge, Wall Township (NJ), and the Ocean-Monmouth Amateur Radio Club, Inc. (OMARC) have provided the engineering/scientific knowledge and sweat-equity required to refurbish and update the inoperative radio dish. The original vacuum-tube technology has been replaced with smaller electronic counterparts. Rusty equipment has been replaced. Seized/inoperative motors have been reconditioned and rebuilt. And system-level software controls have been added. The TIROS dish has been transformed into a truly modern, state-of-the-art Radio Astronomy Satellite Dish and Control Center.
The TIROS Dish as it Appears Today [photo: Nancy J. Graziano]On January 19, 2015, scientists from Princeton University pointed the dish skyward toward the center of our galaxy and detected a clear peak at 1420.4 MHz, the well-known 21 cm emission line originating from the deepest recesses of the Milky Way – the dish was working!
The Control Console Today. [photo: Nancy J. Graziano]
FUTURE PLANS
After almost 15 years of restoration and nearly 40 years since it last listened to the sky, the TIROS dish is once again operational, is detecting radio signals from the universe, and is well on its way to be used for science education.
Work continues on renovating Building 9162, the original TIROS Control Building, to convert it into the InfoAge Visitor Center. Plans include a NASA-style control room with theater seating for 20-30 students, a full-scale model of the original TIROS I satellite, and other exhibits dedicated to the history of Project Diana, the TIROS program, and the scientific impact these projects have had on our daily lives.
Artist’s Conception: Visitor Center Floorplan [credit: InfoAge]Future activities being planned using the dish include a Moonbounce experiment, communicating with NOAA weather satellites, performing real-time satellite imaging, viewing the Milky Way in the radio spectrum, and tracking deep space pulsars.
If you are interested in visiting the InfoAge Science History Learning Center and Museum at Historic Camp Evans, they are open to the public on Wednesdays, Saturdays, and Sundays, from 1-5pm.
To learn more about Camp Evans, Project Diana, the TIROS Satellite project, and InfoAge, tune into this week’s Weekly Space Hangout. This week’s special guest is Stephen Fowler, the Creative Director at InfoAge. He will be chatting with Fraser about the history and plans for Camp Evans and the TIROS dish.
Still want to learn more? Click on any of the links provided in this article, or visit the following sites:
NASA astronaut Greg Chamitoff during a 2011 spacewalk on the International Space Station. Reflected in his visor is NASA crewmate Mike Fincke. Both astronauts were mission specialists aboard shuttle mission STS-134. Credit: NASA
Spacewalks have been described by astronauts as magical, amazing, and “holy moly!” This new 30-minute NASA documentary called “Suit Up!” celebrates 50 years of extravehicular activity (EVA) or spacewalks. 50 years ago this year, the first spacewalks were conducted by Russian Alexei Leonov in March 1965 and then American astronaut Edward White followed soon after in June 1965. The documentary features interviews with astronauts past and present, as well as other astronauts, engineers, technicians, managers from the history of spacewalks.
They share their personal stories and thoughts that cover the full EVA experience — from the early spacewalking experiences, to spacesuit manufacturing, to modern day spacewalks aboard the International Space Station as well as what the future holds for humans working on a tether in space.
“Suit Up,” is narrated by actor and fan of space exploration Jon Cryer.
A waxing crescent Moon+Earthshine setting over southwest London. Image credit and copyright: Roger Hutchinson
Turns out it’s all a big cosmic blame game.
Over the centuries, humans have attempted to link the phases of the Moon—especially the onset of the Full Moon—with terrestrial affairs. Heck, terms such as lunacy have even entered into the common lexicon, citing a supposed connection between insanity brought on by the Moon. And we’ve long heard anecdotal tales from police and late shift delivery room workers, who swear that everything, from crime rates to delivery room admissions increase around a Full Moon.
A 2004 study published in a nursing journal looking at admissions in a hospital in Barcelona, Spain cited a similar phenomenon.
So, what is this lunacy?
A recent study out of the UCLA caught our eye addressing this same issue. UCLA professor of planetary astronomy Jean-Luc Margot took a fresh look at the data from the 2004 study and found not only flaws in the correlation and data analysis in the 2004 study, but no link between the onset of the Full Moon and a spike in hospital admissions. We agree that looking at one hospital unit in Barcelona hardly constitutes a large data set. This also backs up a larger 40 year-old UCLA meta-study which found no correlation between the timing of births and the lunar cycle.
“The Moon is innocent,” Margot said, exonerating our celestial companion in a UCLA press release.
Blame our good friend and logical fallacy confirmation bias. Also known as the gambler’s fallacy, this occurs when we tend to count the hits but not the misses. When a topic such as a link between the Full Moon and a given activity comes up, we search back in our memory—which in and of itself is much more frangible than we’d like to think—and selectively remember all of the times that a Full Moon occurred when (pick your stated bias) occurred. And keep in mind, a Full Moon is only the technical instant when the Moon is opposite to the Sun and merely appears fully illuminated as seen from our Earthly perspective. That’s 180 degrees solar elongation, if you want to be precise. Of course, the orbit of the Moon is tilted about 5 degrees relative to the ecliptic, meaning that it’s only precisely opposite to the Sun during a central total lunar eclipse, when it’s immersed in the shadow of the Earth. Though the Moon approaches it, it never really reaches 100% illumination as seen from the Earth!
The April 4th, 2015 Moon, at 99.8% illuminated and about as ‘Full’ as it ever gets. Image credit and copyright: Chris Lyons
So much for werewolves…
The Moon also appears pretty darned close to Full on days it isn’t on the dates surrounding this instant in time. We say the Moon is then either waxing gibbous (headed towards Full) or waning gibbous (after Full).
Here’s what the Full Moon doesn’t do, though we’ve heard ‘em all over the years: Increase birth rates, criminal activity, cause an increase in car accidents, cause a spike in earthquake activity, or affect fishing expedition outcomes. Well, OK, you might have more success finding your way back to shore using the moonlight as a guide if you stay out after dark…
A 2013 Swiss study in the journal of Current Biology has suggested a possible link between lunar and human sleep cycles, though again, this is very tentative. (thanks to K.E.M Lindblom @the_egghunter on Twitter for bringing this one to our attention.)
Update: Astronomer Jean-Luc Margot has brought it the attention of Universe Today that said lunar sleep study has been debunked last year.
So, what does the Moon do? Well, for one, it does a great job stabilizing the Earth’s rotational axis over the long term. One only has the look at moonless Mars (for the sake of this discussion, the tiny captured asteroids Phobos and Deimos do not count) to see what variations in the axial tilt of our world would be like without the Moon. And certain species of sea turtles along the Florida Gulf Coast do, in fact, hatch right around the time on the spring Full Moon. The Moon also provides us with a nifty celestial timekeeper: a good example is the Muslim calendar, which is based solely on the cycle of the Moon. The Full Moon also provided the human species with a fine study of celestial mechanics 101. Newton would’ve had a much tougher prospect figuring out his laws of gravity in its absence.
And finally, the Full Moon does affect the migratory patterns of deep sky astrophotographers, as they ‘pack it in’ in the weeks around the light polluting Full Moon, perchance to process and clean up images.. .
Headed towards Full… this week’s thin waxing crescent Moon. Image credit: David Dickinson
All thoughts to ponder on the next Full Moon, which occurs on June 2nd… at 16:22 UT/12:22 AM EDT, to be precise.
So, as with all things that arc towards the astrological, we’ll defer to Shakespeare, who said, “The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars… but in ourselves. “
Apollo 13 images via NASA. Montage by Judy Schmidt.
Now that we’ve celebrated the 45th anniversary of Apollo 13 and completed our series “13 MORE Things That Saved Apollo 13” and we want to see how well you’ve been paying attention! Here are 13 questions about the mission taken from this series as well as our original “13 Things” series that was published in 2010. The questions follow and the answers are listed below. Let us know how you do!
Apollo 13 Crew
1. Name the three astronauts on Apollo 13 and their roles/official titles in the mission.
2. What caused only 12 men to walk on the Moon instead of 14?
3. Why was a newspaper reporter’s training helpful in saving Apollo 13?
4. Who was credited in the Apollo 13 movie with the statement “Failure Is Not an Option” but never actually made that statement.
5. What Apollo astronaut’s statue is in the Halls of Congress?
6. Blackout on reentry lasted approximately 87 seconds longer than expected. Explain some theories on why this was so.
7. Explain why you think the hatch would not seal/close property when it worked correctly at the time of jettisoning the lander in preparation for reentry?
8. What everyday item(s) assisted Apollo 13 in finding the way back to Earth?
9. What Hollywood movie predicted 7 facets of Apollo 13’s rescue?
10. Who is the only man to have orbited the Moon on two missions without landing on the Moon?
11. Which astronaut on Apollo 13 became ill during the flight?
12. Apollo 13 marked the first time the 3rd stage of the Saturn V rocket did not either burn up in Earth’s atmosphere or end up in a heliocentric orbit. Where did it land?
13. What was the duration of the Apollo 13 Mission?
The crew of Apollo 13 after they splashed down safely. Credit: NASA
Answers:
1. James A. Lovell, Jr. Commander, John L. Swigert, Jr., Command Module Pilot, Fred W. Haise, Jr., Lunar Module Pilot.
2. Even though there were 7 Apollo missions that were supposed to land on the Moon with 2 astronauts walking on the Moon in each mission, , Apollo 13 never landed because of the accident. Read more about the explosion and why the timing of the accident was important to the crew’s survival here.
Fred Haise, in 1966. Credit: NASA
3. Fred Haise had been a newspaper stringer for a small newspaper in Mississippi when he was younger, taking notes and editing them for his local Mississippi paper’s stories. Utmost among reporters is accuracy in quoting sources. The transmitted words from Mission Control had to be flawlessly transcribed if the crew was to survive, and Haise did an amazing job. Read more about it in the article in the original “13 Things,” Charlie Duke’s Measles.
The view in Mission Control after Apollo 13 landed safely. Gene Kranz is featured on the right. Credit: NASA
4. In the movie Apollo 13, Gene Kranz says the line, “Failure is not an option!” Even though Kranz never actually said those words during the “real” Apollo 13 mission, he liked the phrase so much that he used it for his autobiography. Who said it? Jerry Bostick, who was the Retrofire Officer and Flight Dynamics Officer in Mission Control during the Mercury, Gemini, Apollo and Skylab programs, said it during interviews for the Apollo 13 movie. Read more about the phrase and why they used it the movie here.
The statue of John L. “Jack” Swigert, Jr. is located in Emancipation Hall at the U.S. Capitol Visitor Center.
5. A statue of Jack Swigert is located in Emancipation Hall at the U.S. Capitol Visitor Center. Swigert was elected to Colorado’s Sixth Congressional District in 1982, but he died on December 27, 1982, before taking office. Read more about the Swigert and the statue here. Read more about the traits that made Swigert such a valuable crew member on Apollo 13 in “Charlie Duke’s Measles.”
6. The longer than expected blackout period has never been fully explained, but several explanations have been offered. They include: the spacecraft coming in on a shallower trajectory that would result in a longer period in the upper atmosphere where there was less deceleration of the spacecraft and the communication signal skipping like a stone over layers of the upper atmosphere because of the shallow entry angle. Read more about the ‘shallow’ reentry and the communications blackout in our article here.
7. No one has fully explained why the hatch wouldn’t close immediately after the accident while it worked fine at reentry. It may have been because the two spacecraft (Command Module and Lunar Module) were skewed or twisted right after the explosion, but the position normalized later. Read more at the original series part 2, “The Hatch That Wouldn’t Close,” and part 8, “The Command Module Wasn’t Severed.”
8. The Apollo 13 crew used things like watches, flashlights, pencils, pens and of course duct tape to help save the mission. Read more about them at “‘MacGyvering’ with Everyday Items” and “Duct Tape.”
9. The 1969 movie Marooned depicts three astronauts who survive an accident in space, but their lives hang in the balance as the people in Mission Control at NASA work night and day to figure out a way to bring the spacefarers home safely. Read how the movie inspired a NASA engineer to consider options for recharging the LM batteries in the original series part 11, “A Hollywood Movie.”
Apollo 13 commander Lovell with a model Lunar module. Image credit: NASA
10. Jim Lovell took 2 trips to the Moon but never landed. He was on Apollo 8, which became the first human mission to orbit the Moon in 1968 and on Apollo 13, which didn’t land on the Moon because of the oxygen tank explosion in the Service Module.
11. Fred Haise got a kidney infection during the mission, possibly from not drinking enough water. Water was one of the resources that was scarce because of the inoperable fuel cells, which normally creates water as a byproduct of producing electrical power. Learn more about the Apollo era fuel cell at the Smithsonian Air & Space Museum.
The seismic station at the Apollo 12 site. The seismometer monitors the level of ground motion to detect arriving seismic waves. The instrument (left) is protected by metal foil against the varying temperatures on the lunar surface that produce large thermal stresses . Credit: NASA
12. The Saturn V 3rd stage (S-IVB) was part of a science experiment and was crashed into the Moon. The Apollo 12 mission had left a seismometer on the Moon, and an impact could produce seismic waves that could be registered for hours on the seismometer. This would help scientist to better understand the structure of the Moon’s deep interior. Find out more about the experiment and the communications problem caused by the 3rd stage at our article, “Detuning the Saturn V’s 3rd Stage Radio.”
Our thanks, once again, to NASA engineer Jerry Woodfill who originally came up with the ideas for the “13 Things” and “13 MORE Things That Saved Apollo 13.”
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