Back in 2008, Richard Branson outlined his vision for Virgin Galactic’s future. Once tourists are taken into Earth orbit, it seems possible that space hotels could be developed for longer stop-overs in space. He then went on to mention that short “sight-seeing” tours to the Moon could be started from these ultimate hotels. If we are to make travel to the Moon routine enough to send tourists there, the trip would need to be as short as possible.
So how long is the commute from the Earth to the Moon anyway? Human beings and machines have made that trip on several occasions. And while some took a very long time, others were astonishingly fast. Let’s review the various missions and methods, and see which offers the most efficient and least time-consuming means of transit.
Nearly 47 years ago, the crew of Apollo 8 took an image of planet Earth from the Moon that has been called “the most influential environmental photograph ever taken.” Called Earthrise, the picture represented the first time human eyes saw their homeworld come into view around another planetary body.
When humans finally blast off for another world, where will we be going? Will we return to the Moon, and take over where the Apollo astronauts left off, or will we press onto Mars, and set foot on a whole new planet?
Humanity is going to need to make a difficult choice in the next few years. One that will have implications for the very future of space exploration: classic Star Wars or the new Trilogy? Star Trek fans feel your pain.
But also, we’ll need to figure out whether we should push on with the human exploration of Mars, so that Mark Watney can fulfill his potato destiny, or return to the Moon and build Moonbase Alpha. It’s surprisingly difficult to choose.
First, the case for the Moon. Obviously, the Moon is close. It’s just a few hundred thousand kilometers away, and it only takes astronauts a few days to get there, land on the surface and continue our scientific exploration of this world – which we still know very little about.
Why is the far side so different from the near side? Are there lava tubes and even vast underground caverns that future colonists could live in? It would be great to get more geologist boots on the regolith to find out.
Although it’s expensive, going to the Moon could eventually pay for itself. There are vast reserves of Helium-3 just sitting on the surface of the Moon. This material is rare on Earth, and could be used for future fusion energy planets. Not to mention other valuable minerals and elements that might just be lying around, ready for collection and used for space-based manufacturing.
The Moon makes sense as a testing ground, for humanity to perfect the techniques of surviving and thriving off planet Earth. If we can make it there, then we stand a chance of going the distance as a true interplanetary species.
The big problem with the Moon is that it’s completely inhospitable to human life. There’s no atmosphere, no protection from the Sun’s radiation, enormous temperature variations and a gravity so low it could be lethal over the long term.
The lunar regolith is like tiny shards of glass that would get everywhere, into everything, and be a constant danger to anyone living on the Moon.You couldn’t imagine a worse place to live.
The Moon is close but it sucks, what about Mars? Mars is much much farther than the Moon; the average distance to Mars is about 225 million kilometers.
This means that a journey to Mars with even a short visit to the surface will take the better part of 2 years. Astronauts will be beyond any kind of rescue and completely reliant on their spacecraft and supplies for that entire journey.
During their voyage, they’ll be bombarded with radiation from the Sun and there’ll be no protection on the surface on the planet either, because Mars doesn’t have a global magnetosphere like Earth.
But once they do get to Mars, they’ll have a world that’s much more earthlike. The temperatures are extreme, but can be reasonable at the equator, in the middle of the day. There’s a slight atmosphere, and stronger gravity – maybe your bones won’t waste away if you spend too long there.
To say there’s science to be done on Mars is an understatement. There are so many different terrains, with different geologic features. There’s the outstanding question of whether there was ever life on Mars, and if it’s there now. We’d really like to know the answer.
The Martian regolith is smoother and safer than the lunar version, having been weathered down by wind over millennia. It would still get everywhere, but it wouldn’t give you lung disease.
We now know there are vast reserves of water under the surface of Mars, and astronauts will be able to use this for all kinds of projects, like growing plants, drinking water, breathable atmosphere and even rocket fuel.
Sending humans to Mars is much more complicated and expensive than sending them to the Moon, and the level of space-based infrastructure would be much greater. Assuming we did this right, we’d have much more technology and a stronger presence in space.
Both Mars and the Moon have their pros and cons, but there’s another world that you might want to consider: Venus.
Although Venus is mostly a terrible hellscape, completely worthless down on the surface, where it’s hot enough to melt lead, and the atmospheric pressure is as bad as being a kilometer under the ocean. Did I mention it rains sulphuric acid?
But high up in the cloud tops of Venus, around 50 km altitude, the evil planet becomes downright habitable. You wouldn’t need to wear a spacesuit to regulate the delightful room temperature atmosphere. And you wouldn’t need a pressure suit, because it’s already perfect Earth pressure. You would, however, still need to worry about the sulphuric acid rain. And unless you’ve evolved to breathe carbon dioxide, you’ll need to keep a supply of oxygen handy.
NASA has already proposed sending dirigibles to Venus, filled with our breathable atmosphere for buoyancy, to explore. So maybe the next planet we set foot on, will be the one that we can never set foot on. Hmm, that sounded better in my brain.
You know what, I can’t choose. We should go back to the Moon, we should send humans to Mars, and we should explore Venus too. No matter where we go in the Solar System, it’s going to be an enormous undertaking. We’re going to need to develop new technologies, and risk the lives of everyone involved. But the rewards will be great, moving us one huge leap towards becoming a true interplanetary species.
So now it’s time for you to decide. The fate of humanity rests on your shoulders. Should we press on to Mars, or focus our energy on the Moon or even Venus? Give us your suggestions in the comments below.
Astronomers hate the Moon because it ruins perfectly good observing nights. But is it possible that we all need the Moon for our very existence?
For all we know, Earth is the only place in the Universe where life appeared. This makes the mystery of our existence even more puzzling. What were all the factors required to bring about the first lifeforms on our planet, and encourage the evolution of more complex, intelligent lifeforms.
We needed a calm and reasonable Sun, solid ground, nice temperatures, the appropriate chemicals, and liquid water. Possibly drinks served in pineapples with little umbrellas. But what about the Moon? Is the Moon a necessity for life in any way?
To the best of our knowledge, our Moon was formed when a Mars-sized object smashed into the Earth about 4.5 billion years ago. This enormous collision spun out a cloud of debris that coalesced into the Moon we know and love today.
Back then, the Moon was much closer to the Earth than it is today, a mere 20-30,000 kilometers. A fraction of its current distance. If you could have stood on the surface of the Earth, the Moon would have looked 10 to 20 times bigger than we see it today.
But nobody did, because the Earth was a molten ball of red hot magma, tasty lava through and through. Life emerged 3.8 billion years ago, pretty much the day after Earth had cooled down to the point that it was possible for life to form.
Scientists think that it first formed in the oceans, where there were adequate temperatures and abundant water as a solvent for life’s chemicals to mix.
The effect of gravity is a cube of its distance. When the Moon was closer, the power of its gravity to pull the Earth’s water around was more ferocious. But what impact has this gravity had on our world and its life? Do we need the Moon to make the magic happen?
Turns out, we might owe our very existence to it because its pull of gravity might have set our plate tectonics in motion. Without plate tectonics, our planet might be more like Venus, toasty and dead.
It raises the level of the world’s oceans towards the equator. Without this gravity, the oceans would redistribute, raising levels at the poles. It has also slowed Earth’s rotation on its axis. Shortly after its formation, the Earth turned once every 6 hours. Without that Moon to slow us down, we’d have much more severe weather.
It stabilizes the Earth’s rotation on its axis. It’s possible that the Earth might have rolled over on its axis on a regular basis, causing a complete redistribution of the Earth’s water. Astronomers think this happened on Mars, because it never had a large Moon to stabilize it.
But the biggest impact that the Moon has on life is through tides. That regular movement of water that exposes the land at the edge of the ocean, and then covers it again just a few hours later. This could have encouraged life to adapt and move from the oceans to land.
One of the most subtle effects from the Moon is what it has done to life itself. Nocturnal animals behave differently depending on where the Moon is in the sky during its 29.5-day cycle. When the Moon is full and bright, prey fish stay hidden in the reef, when they’d be most visible.
Amazingly, lions are less likely to hunt during the full Moon, and researchers have found that lion attacks on humans happen 10 days after the full Moon, and many bats will be less active during the full Moon.
With so many species on Earth affected by the Moon, it’s reasonable to think that there would have been a different evolutionary direction for life on Earth over the eons, and humans might never have evolved.
It looks like the Moon is important after all. Important to the geology of Earth, and important to the evolution of life itself.
As extrasolar planet hunters search for new worlds, and determine their viability for life, they might want to focus on the worlds with moons first.
What impact has the Moon had on your life? Post your anecdotes in the comments!
The Moon is tidally locked to the Earth, which means that it always shows one face to our planet. In fact, this is the case for most the large moons in the Solar System. What’s the process going on to make this happen?
Just look at the Moon, isn’t it beautiful? Take out a nice pair of binoculars, or a small telescope tonight and you’ll be able to see huge craters and ancient lava plains. Look again tomorrow, and you’ll be able to see… the exact same things. As you know, our modest Moon only shows us one face. Ever.
If you could look at the Moon orbiting the Earth from above, you’d see that it orbits once on its axis exactly as long as it takes to orbit once around our planet. It’s always turning, showing us exactly the same face. What’s it hiding?
The Moon isn’t the only place in the Solar System where this happens. All major moons of Jupiter and Saturn show the same face to their parent. Pluto and Charon are even stranger, the two worlds are locked, facing one another for all eternity. Astronomers call this tidal locking, and happens because of the gravitational interaction between worlds.
As you’re aware, the Moon is pulling at the Earth, causing the tides. In fact, the pull of the Moon is so strong that the ground itself rises up 30 cm, about a foot, as it passes by.
It’s even more powerful on the Moon. The gravity from the Earth distorts the Moon into an oblong shape. The sides pointed towards and away from the Earth bulge outward, while the others are pulled inward to compensate. It makes the Moon football shaped.
It’s no big deal now, but in the ancient past, shortly after its formation, the Moon was spinning rapidly. This meant that the part of the Moon bulged towards us was changing constantly, like water tides on Earth.
Vast amounts of rock need to shift and change shape to bulge towards the Earth and then settle down again, and this takes time. The position of the bulges on the Moon were always a little out of alignment with the pull of gravity of the Earth.
These bulges acted like handles that the Earth’s gravity could grab onto, and torque it back into place. Over time, the Earth’s gravity slowed down the rotation speed of the Moon until it stopped, forever.
This same process happened on all the large moons in the Solar System.
Because of its smaller mass, our Moon became tidally locked to the Earth billions of years ago. Now the process is continuing to make the Earth tidally locked to the Moon as well.
In the distant distant future, the Moon will stop moving in the sky, and hang motionless, visible from only half the Earth.
How distant? In about 50 billion years, long after the Sun has died, the Earth and the Moon will finally be tidally locked to each other, just like Romeo and Juliet, Fry and Leela, Pluto and Charon. The force of gravity is a powerful thing. Powerful enough to stop a moon in its tracks.
Did you have any other questions about the Moon? Post your suggestions in the comments and we’d be glad to make more videos and dig deeper!
Clear night ahead? Let’s see what’s up. We’ll start close to home with the Moon, zoom out to lonely Fomalhaut 25 light years away and then return to our own Solar System to track down the 7th planet. Even before the sky is dark, you can’t miss the 4-day-old crescent Moon reclining in the southwestern sky. Watch for it to wax to a half-moon by Thursday as it circles Earth at an average speed of 2,200 mph (3,600 km/hr). That fact that it orbits Earth means that the angle the Moon makes with the sun and our planet constantly varies, the reason for its ever-changing phase.
With the naked eye you’ll be able to make two prominent dark patches within the crescent — Mare Crisium (Sea of Crises) and Mare Fecunditatis (Sea of Fecundity). Each is a vast, lava-flooded plain peppered with thousands of craters , most of which require a telescope to see. Not so Janssen. This large, 118-mile-wide (190-km) ring will be easy to pick out in a pair of seven to 10 power binoculars. Janssen is named for 19th century French astronomer Pierre Janssen, who was the first to see the bright yellow line of helium in the sun’s spectrum while observing August 1868 total solar eclipse.
English scientist Norman Lockyer also observed the line later in 1868 and concluded it represented a new solar element which he named “helium” after “helios”, the Greek word for sun. Helium on Earth wouldn’t be discovered for another 10 years, making this party-balloon gas the only element first discovered off-planet!
Directing your gaze south around 7 o’clock, you’ll see a single bright star low in the southern sky. This is Fomalhaut in the dim constellation of Piscis Austrinus, the Southern Fish. The Arabic name means “mouth of the fish”. If live under a dark, light-pollution-free sky, you’ll be able to make out a loop of faint stars vaguely fish-like in form. Aside from being the only first magnitude star among the seasonal fall constellations, Fomalhaut stands out in another way — the star is ringed by a planet-forming disk of dust and rock much as our own Solar System was more than 4 billion years ago.
Within that disk is a new planet, Fomalhaut b, with less than twice Jupiter’s mass and enshrouded either by a cloud of dusty debris or a ring system like Saturn. Fomalhaut b has the distinction of being the first extrasolar planet ever photographed in visible light. The plodding planet takes an estimated 1,700 years to make one loop around Fomalhaut, with its distance from its parent star varying from about 50 times Earth’s distance from the sun at closest to 300 times that distance at farthest.
Next, we move on to one of the more remote planets in our own solar system, Uranus. The 7th planet from the sun, Uranus reached opposition — its closest to Earth and brightest appearance for the year — only a month ago. It’s well-placed for viewing in Pisces the Fish after nightfall high in the southeastern sky below the prominent sky asterism, the Great Square of Pegasus.
A telescope will tease out its tiny, greenish disk, but almost any pair of binoculars will easily show the planet as a star-like point of light slowly marching westward against the starry backdrop in the coming weeks. Check in every few weeks to watch it move first west, in retrograde motion, and then turn back east around Christmas. For those with 8-inch and larger telescopes who love a challenge, use this Uranian Moon Finder to track the planet’s two brightest moons, Titania and Oberon, which glimmer weakly around 14th magnitude.
We’ve barely scratched the surface of the vacuum with these offerings; they’re just a few of the many highlights of mid-November nights that also include the annual Leonid meteor shower, which peaks Tuesday and Wednesday mornings (Nov. 17-18). So much to see!
If the Sun, Earth and Moon are lined up, shouldn’t we get a lunar and solar eclipse every month? Clearly, we don’t, but why not?
Coincidences happen all the time. Right, Universe? One of the most amazing is that Moon and the Sun appear to be almost exactly the same size in the sky and they’re both the size of your pinky fingernail held at arm’s length. These coincidences just keep piling up. Thanks Universe?
There are two kinds of eclipses: solar and lunar. Well, there’s a third kind, but we’d best not think about that.
A solar eclipse occurs when the Moon passes in between the Earth and Sun, casting a shadow down on the surface of our planet. If you’re in the path of the shadow, the Moon destroys the Sun. No, wait, I mean the Moon blocks the Sun briefly.
A lunar eclipse happens when the Moon passes through the Earth’s shadow. We see one limb of the Moon darken until the entire thing is in shadow.
You’ve got the Sun, Earth and Moon all in a line. Where they’re like this, it’s a solar eclipse, and when they’re like this, it’s a lunar eclipse.
If the Moon takes about a month to orbit the Earth, shouldn’t we get an eclipse every two weeks? First a solar eclipse, and then two weeks later, lunar eclipse, back and forth? And occasionally a total one of the heart? But we don’t get them every month, in fact, it can take months and months between eclipses of any kind.
If the Sun, Earth and Moon were truly lined up perfect, this would be the case. But the reality is that they’re not lined up. The Moon is actually on an inclined plane to the Earth.
Imagine the Solar System is a flat disk, like a DVD. You kids still know what those are, right? This is the plane of the ecliptic, and all of the planets are arranged in that disk.
But the Moon is on another disk, which is inclined at an angle of 5.14 degrees. So, if you follow the orbit of the Moon as it goes around the Earth, sometimes it’s above the plane of the ecliptic and sometimes it’s below. So the shadow cast by the Moon misses the Earth, or the shadow cast by the Earth misses the Moon.
But other times, the Sun, Moon and Earth are aligned, and we get eclipses. In fact, eclipses tend to come in pairs, with a solar eclipse followed by a lunar eclipse, because everything is nicely aligned.
Wondering why the Moon turns red during a lunar eclipse? It’s the same reason we see red sunsets here on Earth – the atmosphere filters out the green to violet range of the spectrum, letting the red light pass through.
The Earth’s atmosphere refracts the sunlight so that it’s bent slightly, and can illuminate the Moon during the greatest eclipse. It’s an eerie sight, and well worth hanging around outside to watch it happen. We just had recently had a total lunar eclipse, did you get a chance to see it? Wasn’t it awesome?
Don’t forget about the total solar eclipse that’s going to be happening in August, 2017. It’s going to cross the United States from Oregon to Tennessee and should be perfect viewing for millions of people in North America. We’ve already got our road trip planned out.
Are you planning to see the 2017 eclipse? Tell us your plans in the comments below.
Tomorrow morning might be a good time to call for extra celestial traffic control. A slip of a crescent Moon will join a passel of planets in the dawn sky for the first of several exciting conjunctions over the next few days.
In the space of three mornings beginning tomorrow, four planets, the Moon and the star Regulus will participate in six separate conjunctions. Here’s how it’ll play out. Time are shown in UT / Greenwich Mean Time and Central Daylight and 1° equals two full moon diameters:
October 8: Venus 2.5° south of Regulus at 18 UT (1 p.m. CDT)
October 8: Regulus 3.1° north of the moon at 19 UT (2 p.m. CDT)
October 8: Venus 0.6° north of the moon at 20 UT (3 p.m. CDT)
October 9: Mars 3.2° north of the moon at 14 UT (9 a.m. CDT)
October 9: Jupiter 2.5° north of the moon at 21 UT (4 p.m.)
October 11: Mercury 0.8° north of the moon 11 UT (6 a.m. CDT)
Since several of the events occur in the middle of the afternoon for skywatchers in the Americas, here’s an expanded viewing guide:
* Thursday, October 8: Skywatchers will see Venus pass 2.5° south of Leo’s brightest star Regulus with a cool crescent moon a little more than 3° to the west of the brilliant planet. If you live in Japan and the Far East, you’ll see a splendidly close conjunction of the moon and Venus at dawn on October 9, when the pair will be separated by a hair more than one moon diameter (0.6°). At nearly the same time, the moon will be in conjunction with Regulus.
Observers in Australia and New Zealand will see the Moon occult Venus in a dark sky sky before dawn (or in daylight, depending on exact location) on the 9th. Click HERE for information, times and a map for the event.
* Friday, October 9: An even thinner moon passes about 3° north of Mars in the Americas at dawn and approximately 4° from Jupiter. Watch for the three luminaries to sketch a nifty triangle in the eastern sky 90 minutes to an hour before sunrise. Venus will gaze down at the planetary conclave 10° further west.
* Sunday, October 11: Mercury, which has quietly taken up residence again in the dawn sky, hovers 0.8° above a hair-thin moon this morning at 6 a.m. CDT. Best views will be about 45 minutes before sunrise, when the pair rises high enough to clear distant trees. Bring binoculars to help you spot the planet.
You’re thinking, why does this all have to happen in the morning? Thankfully, sunrise occurs around 7 a.m. for many locations, so you can see all these cool happenings in twilight around 6 a.m. — not terribly unreasonable. And now that the The Martian has finally hit the movie theaters, what better time to see the planet in the flesh? By pure coincidence, the location of stranded astronaut Mark Watney in the fictional account — Acidalia Planitia (Mare Acidalium) — will be facing dawn risers across the Americas and Hawaii this week.
Dare I say this string of continuous conjunctions is only a warm-up for more to come? Earth’s revolution around the Sun quickly brings Jupiter higher in the eastern sky, while Mars races eastward as if on a collision course. The following Saturday on October 17, the two will meet in conjunction less than 1/2 degree (one Full Moon width) apart. Very nice!
But it gets even better. On Tuesday morning, October 27, you’ll see all three planets huddle at dawn. One degree will separate Jupiter and Venus with Mars bringing up the rear several degrees further east. Feast on the view because there won’t be a more compact arrangement of three planets again until January 10, 2021.
First off, a huge thank you to everyone who made and sent their Danjon scale estimate of the totally-eclipsed Moon’s brightness to Dr. Richard Keen, University of Colorado atmospheric scientist. Your data were crucial to his study of how aerosols in Earth’s atmosphere and other factors influence the Moon’s appearance.
Grateful for your help, Keen received a total of 28 observations from 7 different countries.
Using the Danjon information and estimates of the Moon’s brightness using the reverse binocular method, Keen crunched the data and concluded that the Moon was about 0.6 L (Danjon) units darker than expected and 0.4 magnitude dimmer, a brightness reduction of 33%. This agrees well with my own observation and possibly yours, too. No wonder so many stars sparkled near the Moon that night.
I think it’s safe to say, most of us expected a normal or even bright totality. So why was it dark? Several factors were at play — one to do with the Moon’s location in Earth’s shadow, the other with a volcanic eruption and a third with long-term, manmade pollution.
You’ll recall that the eclipse occurred during lunar perigee, when the Moon swings closest to Earth in its 27-day orbit. Being closer, it also tracked deeper into Earth’s umbra or inner shadow which narrows the farther back of the planet it goes. An apogean Moon (farthest from Earth) passes through a more tapered cone of darkness closer to the penumbra, where sunlight mixes with shadow. A Moon nearer Earth would find the umbral shadow roomier with the light-leaking penumbra further off in the distance.
But there’s more. Working independently, Steve Albersof NOAA and Brazilian astronomer Helio Vital suggested another reason: aerosols in the atmosphere. “Earth’s stratosphere is no longer completely clean of volcanic ashes,” said Vital in an e-mail communication. “In fact, lingering aerosols (ash, dust, sulfuric acid droplets) from the explosion of Calbuco five months ago may be to blame for that excessive darkening.”
While much of the debris blasted into the stratosphere made for colorful sunsets in the southern hemisphere, some of that material has likely made its way to the northern hemisphere. Albers has noticed an increase in yellow and purple sunsets in his home town of Boulder in recent months, telltale signs of volcanic spew at play.
Forest fires that raged across the western states and Canadian provinces all spring and summer may also have contributed. Most of that smoke usually stays in the lower part of the atmosphere, but some may have found its way to the stratosphere, the very layer responsible for transmitting most of the sunlight that falls into Earth’s shadow and colors the moon.
Sunlight has to pass through these light-absorbing minerals and chemicals on its way through the atmosphere and into Earth’s shadow. Less light means a darker moon during total eclipse. Coincidentally, much of the totally eclipsed Moon passed through the southern half of the umbra which “increased the effectiveness of the Calbuco aerosols (which are still more concentrated in the southern hemisphere than the northern) at dimming the light within the umbra,” writes Keen.
It also so happened that the darkest part of the moon coincided with two vast, dark volcanic plains called Oceanus Procellarum (Ocean of Storms) and Mare Imbrium, artificially enhancing the overall gloom over the northern half of the Moon.
Finally, the human hand may also have played a role in lunar color and brightness. The burning of coal and oil has caused a gradual increase in the amount of human-made sulfate aerosols in the atmosphere since the start of the industrial revolution. According to NASA, at current production levels, human-made sulfate aerosols are believed to outweigh the naturally produced sulfate aerosols. No surprise that the concentration of aerosols is highest in the northern hemisphere where most industrial activity is found.
Isn’t it fascinating that one blood-red Moon can tell us so much about the air we breathe? Thank you again for your participation!