Tag Archives: telescopes

April Skywatch

I’ve promised a column on some telescope basics, and as the evenings start to warm up it’s finally time to deliver. Maybe you’re interested in more stargazing than casual naked-eye observations from your back porch, but you’re unsure of where to begin. Sometimes the options for purchasing a good starter telescope seem quite daunting. Where to begin? What type should I get? Which mounting is best? How do I avoid a cheap dud?

This month, I’ll offer a few pointers on choosing and getting started using a telescope for some basic backyard observations. As I’ve mentioned before, I focus on observing objects that you don’t need to be in perfectly dark skies to see. My own stargazing takes place in the city limits of Kankakee, with streetlights, trees, and the occasional porchlight marring the view. With a little knowledge and patience though, even a city sky can be a treasure trove.

Of course, it all starts with a good telescope. When I was preparing to purchase a new set of telescopes for my astronomy labs at Olivet several years ago, I asked the members of the Kankakee Area Stargazers for advice. I wanted instruments that were high quality but relatively inexpensive, easy to use and train students to use, and resilient enough that I wouldn’t worry about them being easily damaged The scope most recommended was a basic 6-inch Dobsonian reflector from Orion Telescopes. I purchased a small fleet of these instruments for student use and have had no regrets. They are simple, durable, and offer great viewing.

So what exactly is a 6-inch Dobsonian reflecting telescope? We’ll start with “reflecting.” Telescopes come in two basic types: reflectors, which use mirrors to gather light, and refractors, which use lenses. If you walked into Wal-Mart for a cheap telescope, you’d almost certainly be buying a refractor. Though there certainly are many refractors that are very high quality, you’re not going to get one like that at Wal-Mart. For a real quality refracting telescope, you would be spending several times more than you would for a reflecting telescope of similar size. If you’re looking for a serious but affordable starting instrument, stay away from refractors and start with a good reflector.

The next question is regarding aperture or (in simple terms) size. Generally speaking, the larger the diameter of a telescope, the better view you’ll have of objects. But also generally speaking, larger aperture also means larger price. Six inches offers enough light-gathering power to easily showcase Saturn’s rings or the moons Jupiter, hone in on the Moon’s craters, or (in dark skies) reveal distant nebulae and galaxies.

Next, you need to consider how the telescope is mounted. As it turns out, pointing and holding the telescope steady is one of the most important parts of getting good views (and not getting incredibly frustrated). There are lots of different ways to mount a telescope, but the type known as a Dobsonian mounting is the sturdiest and easiest that I’ve worked with. A Dobsonian mount makes it very easy to point the telescope to an object in the sky (especially if you spring for a simple laser-finder) and to keep the object in sight and steady once found. And if you’re observing with students or young kids, having a telescope that is on a steady and solid mounting is crucial.

Once you have your telescope picked out, the second step is to get a handful of eyepieces to use with it. Eyepieces magnify the image of the telescope, with the general rule that for a specific instrument smaller eyepiece focal length yields higher magnification. If you’re looking at large objects like the Moon or star clusters, you’ll want to use an eyepiece with a longer focal length (e.g., 25 mm). Then, when you want to zoom in on lunar features or try to split very tight double stars, you use an eyepiece with a shorter focal length to magnify the view. Most telescopes come with two or three eyepieces, and this is usually plenty for the beginner.

Finally, you need to know how to find the objects in the sky you want to view. I tend to eschew computerized mounts that point the telescope for you or tell you where to point it, because I think part of the fun is becoming familiar with the night sky yourself. But you’ll need some good resources to get you started. A quality star atlas is a must (I use the Cambridge Double Star Atlas), but it’s not much to go on if you’re just beginning. I’ve found James Mullaney’s Celestial Harvest to be an excellent guide to highlights in each constellation, and a tool like Guy Ottewell’s Astronomical Calendar (which unfortunately won’t be published after this year) lets you know what planets and constellations to spot when.

Then comes patience. Wait for clear nights and determine what constellations will be overhead. Do a bit of reading before you head out (or take a red flashlight with you to read at the telescope) and simply try to become familiar with the objects in one or two constellations at a time. Don’t feel like you need to learn the entire sky immediately. This month, for instance, Leo is a great place to start, from the lovely double star Algieba in the Sickle of Leo’s mane, to Jupiter and its moons just below the constellation (always a wonderful sight to start with), to the sweep of galaxies beyond Leo’s tail (though you’ll need to get away from the city lights to really appreciate these).

You’ll be amazed at what passes over your head each evening, generally unappreciated and unobserved, but within reach with a simple, good instrument.

This column first appeared in the Kankakee Daily Journal.

March Skywatch

I’ve been promising a column for a couple months now that offers a basic introduction to telescope optics and usage. I plan to keep that promise, but exciting news keeps breaking out in the astronomical world. Last month it was the alignment of the planets in the early morning skies and the announcement of the possible existence of a new, ninth planet in the solar system. Now it’s even bigger news, as scientists have reported the first confirmed detection of gravity waves, which not only provide a further confirmation of Einstein’s theory of general relatively but more importantly have opened a completely new avenue for learning about the universe.

Up to this point in our history, everything we’ve known about distant objects in space has come from light, whether telescopes set up in backyards or research observatories on mountaintops or even instruments beyond the surface of the Earth like the Hubble Space Telescope. All of these gather types of light (which includes all portions of the electromagnetic spectrum, from the visible light we see up to high-energy gamma rays and down to low-energy radio waves). Light can tell us a lot about the universe, from the velocity of galaxies to the chemical make-up and temperatures of stars. Until now, all discovery related to the distant universe has been through studying light.

But a century ago Einstein predicted that there may be another means of learning about the universe. According to his theory of general relativity, massive moving objects should give off gravity waves, distortions in space that spread outward at the speed of light like ripples on a pond. These waves would be a completely new way of giving us information about objects in space. It would be as though having only before seen distant objects in space, now we would be able to “hear” them as well.

The problem was that gravity waves would be incredibly, almost unimaginably weak and thus very, very hard to detect. As a gravity wave moves through space, it contracts space slightly along one direction while stretching it in a perpendicular direction. This contraction and stretching is tiny, amounting to something like a thousandth of the thickness of a single proton. To detect such miniscule variations in length, scientists have had to build some of the most sensitive detectors ever.

How do you detect the warping of space caused by gravitational waves? There are several detectors around the world, but the two in the U.S. that detected this first confirmed signal (which passed through the planet—and all of us—last September) were the twin detectors of LIGO, the Laser Interferometer Gravity wave Observatory, located in Washington state and Louisiana. LIGO reflects a beam of light down two 2.5-mile tunnels at right angles to each other and by analyzing the beams can detect a tiny difference in the lengths of the tunnels caused by gravitational waves. This past September they both received a signal, and after months of analysis scientists were confident that it was indeed a gravity wave.

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Aerial view of the LIGO Hanford Observatory, courtesy LIGO Image Gallery, http://www.ligo.org/multimedia/gallery/lho.php.

This particular signal appears to have come from two black holes billions of light years away in the process of colliding and merging to form one larger black hole. Scientists are able to predict how such an event would “sound” (that is, what sort of gravity waves it would give off), and the signal detected matches this prediction. Scientists are also able to triangulate using the detection at the two different sights to get an idea of where in the sky the signal came from, though it’s far too distant to observe with visible light.

But that’s exactly the point: with this confirmation, we now have a completely new way of observing the universe. We’re in a similar situation to when Galileo first turned a telescope—at the time a completely new scientific instrument—to the heavens. We have a new tool, and we’re not sure what we’ll discover.

Yet our very first observation has already shown us something exciting: double black holes that eventually collide have long been predicted but never before observed. It turns out the very first thing we’ve “heard” with our new ears on the universe is itself something new.

This column first appeared in the Kankakee Daily Journal.

January Skywatch

This month so far the sky has not been especially friendly for star-gazing. Besides lots of clouds, the big problem with observing in winter is a simple one: it’s cold! In the summer it’s easy to linger at the telescope, waiting for unexpected objects to pass into view or searching for new, hard-to-find targets. In the winter, targets that can be found quickly—before the fingers start to numb—and easily are better.

Fortunately, many of the celestial targets in the January sky are indeed bright and easy to spot quickly. Last month I started with an introduction to the constellation Orion. This month we’ll zoom into some of its telescopic wonders that can be caught on the frigid, (hopefully) clear nights of January.

As I’ve mentioned in this column in the past, I’m partial to observing double and multiple stars with my backyard telescope. These objects are bright enough to find in the light-polluted skies of town, and they’re endlessly varied. The most spectacular object to view in Orion is of course the Great Nebula (which we’ll examine in a moment), but Orion also hosts several lesser-known but lovely and easy multi-star targets.

We’ll start with the easiest target. Mintaka is the westernmost star in Orion’s belt. Through a modest telescope (I usually use a Dobsonian reflecting telescope with a 6-inch aperture) at low magnification (48x), it’s clearly revealed as a wide double star. It doesn’t have the impressive color contrast of a famous pair like Albireo, but with a separation of about 50 arcseconds, it’s easily revealed as a double even in a pair of binoculars.

Things get more impressive swinging the telescope just slightly eastward to the star sigma Orionis, the moderately-bright star visible just beneath Alnitak, the easternmost star in Orion’s Belt. Sigma is actually a triple-star system, with a few other surprises in the field of view. The components of the star are much tighter (closer together) than Mintaka, so I use a higher magnification (60x). The differing colors of this triple star are easily apparent and to my eyes seemed reddish, blueish, and whitish (though part of the fun of observing multiple-star systems is that each observer seems to note different tints). Even more impressive: in the same field of view, just to the west, is another, dimmer triple star system, Struve 761!

Orion_constellation_map

If your fingers are freezing, don’t despair: the next sights are well worth the chill. Move the telescope to the cluster of stars marking Orion’s sword. For now, pass up the Great Nebula (also known as M42) for the star at the southernmost tip of Orion’s sword. This is iota Orionis. Iota is a close pair (separation of 11”, I viewed it at 70x magnification): a bright star with a dim companion. In the same field of view though, is the wider, even pair of Struve 747. But that’s not all: a fainter third double star, Struve 745, can also be spotted in this view.

Finally, the most famous multiple-star system in Orion is buried at the heart of Orion’s most famous sight: the Great Nebula. Just north of iota, you can’t fail to spot it on clear nights. The four stars of the Trapezium are surrounded by the cloudy glow of the Nebula, which extends across the entire field of view in greenish, hazy ribbons. The larger your scope (and the darker your sky) the more detail you’ll see, but even with a 6-inch from my front yard in town, it’s a sight to brave the cold for.

We still have not exhausted Orion’s treasures though. Part of the appeal of searching after double stars is to tackle more challenging pairs: pairs that are either very close to each other or have a significant contrast in brightness. If you’re up for a challenge, try the star lambda Orionis, marking Orion’s head. This is an even double star with a separation of only 4 arcseconds (remember that Mintaka’s components were 50 arcseconds apart). With my 6-inch, I can easily split it on a clear night with a magnification of 70x. Compare this with Rigel, the brilliant star of Orion’s foot. Rigel has a dim companion at a distance of 10 arcseconds, but the brightness of Rigel makes it very hard to spot this pale blue companion star. On my most recent attempt, it took a magnification of 133x to spot it for sure.

I hope I’ve convinced you that Orion is a treasury of sights that make it worth braving the cold this month. Perhaps though you don’t have a telescope to take a look yourself and you’re wondering about the type of instrument to purchase to get started, or maybe you got a telescope this Christmas and you want to know more about how to put it to use. Next month I’ll spend some time going over telescope basics and providing my own thoughts on steps toward easy backyard observing.

This column first appeared in the Kankakee Daily Journal.

Dioptrice

dioptrice

One of the largest and longest-running projects I’ve been working on as part of my research fellowship at Notre Dame and the Adler Planetarium has been Dioptrice, a database of surviving pre-1775 refracting telescopes. The brainchild of the former chief curator at the Adler, Dioptrice is the first step toward a richer history of the telescope: its origins, evolution, and diffusion as well as popular perceptions of the instrument in works of art and early books and manuscripts. The principle investigators of the project, which is funded by NSF and NEH grants, travel the world looking for early telescopes in museums and private collections. They analyze and photograph them and then send the data to me, where I add it to the database. I also scour catalogues and websites, initiate contact with additional collections, and search the rare book collection at the Adler for early telescope images. All of this goes into the database, which has been slowly building for the past few years.

Now it’s ready to go public. Information on hundreds of telescopes, fully searchable by year, type, maker, country of origin, and just about every other category you can think of. All hosted online in a sleek website designed by Parallactic Consulting but curated by yours truly. If you’re interested in the history of the telescope as art, artifact, or instrument, feel free to look around. If you know of telescopes that should be hosted here, let me know.

Have fun: www.dioptrice.com.

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Update: I presented a poster on Dioptrice at the AAAS meeting in Chicago yesterday. ScienceNOW, the online AAAS science magazine, just published an article on the database, and I was featured as part of the #scienceWOW video series talking about William Herschel. (You can see all the videos, including one by Alan Alda, here.)