Finally, through the clouds!

Well hasn't the weather been interminably grey and dull?! It's been so long since I saw the stars on a moonless night that I'd almost forgotten how to use a telescope. However, unpredicted by my usual weather channels, last night ended up being mostly clear! Seeing an opportunity I dashed out and set up the equipment....badly; my first alignment went completely to pot. However, a few tweaks and more than a little swearing later, I was set up and ready to go. What I was short of though, was a target. This time of year is, in my opinion, a little tough for someone with an infrared filter on their camera sensor. Most of the nebulae available (with the exception of M42 which I've visited too often to waste this rare night upon) at my location are heavy with Hydrogen-alpha, which means I'll struggle a bit with a standard DSLR. Thankfully though, there are plenty of galaxies, and it was to one of these that I first turned my attention.

M33 The Triangulum / Pinwheel Galaxy. Around 30 minutes worth of  90s subs @ ISO 800 unguided. 15 darks, 15 flats. TS Optics 6" Newtonian and Canon EOS 1100D. Stacked and processed in DSS with a quick tweak in PS. APT used for image capture.

I'm not over the moon at the results - I could have done with much longer subs, and there is a definite gradient which, from its colour, I blame on the occasional cloud scudding across the field of view. It's a lovely galaxy though, with those sweeping, face-on spiral arms. It's quite small compared to our own galactic neighbourhood, with perhaps 10% of the number of stars as the Milky Way. It's fairly close by (a mere 3 million light years) in the constellation of Triangulum, whence comes the name. I was please to get this, as all previous attempts at this object have been lacklustre to say the least. Spurred on by this, and the fact that I had enough subs by 9 o'clock, I decided to turn my attention to something new. Not far away, in the constellation of Taurus, lies the Pleiades open cluster. This is a familiar sight to many, just up and to the right of Orion the Hunter.

M45 "The Pleiades": Around 45 mins of 90s subs. All other capture detail as with M33 above. The Seven sisters, moving from bottom to top in this image, are Electra, Calaeno, Taygeta, Merope, Maya, Asterope and Alcyone. The pair near the top are Atlas, their father, and Pleione, their mother.

These stars are wandering their way through the galaxy together and, at the moment, are passing through a dust cloud which they are lighting up to create this lovely blue nebulosity. These stars are very young, very hot and extremely bright, ranging from a few hundred to a few thousand times the luminosity of the Sun.

I love the Greek mythology surrounding the Pleaides. Atlas the Titan was condemned to hold up the sky by Zeus, for his part in the war between the Titans and the Olympians. Orion, meanwhile, pursued Atlas' daughters, the seven sisters. As a comfort to their father, Zeus turned each of these daughters into doves and then into stars, so that they could be with their father as he bore the heavens. The legend has it that to this day, Orion pursues the Pleiades still across the sky. They had real-world significance to the Greeks too, as to ancient Mediterranean farmers the first apparition of the Pleiades was a sign that ploughing and sowing should begin in earnest.

Confounded wind!

After waiting patiently for months over the summer astro-hiatus, I lugged the gear out last night beneath a crystal clear, moonless sky. To my chagrin, though, the wind soon picked up, rattling and bucking my telescope making it almost impossible to maintain a steady view of the stars. Still though, I managed to get something, although sadly it lacks detail and contrast due to the incessant buffeting of the careless wind.

M27, the Dumbell Nebula. Taken through 6" f/4 Newtonian telescope and Canon 1100D. 13 exposures of 60 seconds each and 10 dark frames, also of 60 seconds each. Processed in DeepSkyStacker 3.3.3 beta 51. Taken 29th September 2013, Aberdovey, Wales, UK.

Against the velvety black, this beautiful planetary nebula hangs like a cosmic apple core. The overbearing blue comes from oxygen, with most of the red at the edges coming from excited hydrogen atoms. Once, the progenitor star, which was of a similar mass to the sun, cast off its outer layers at the end of its life, leaving this cloudy jewel within the interstellar medium. At its core lies the tiny and super dense white dwarf star, which is the only remaining part of the original. The cloud itself will dissipate over the coming millennia, where it will seed the cosmos with its material and lie in wait until, maybe, it is taken up and forms part of a new star, whereupon the cycle begins again.

I was disappointed with this, heartily so, though I expected little less with the conditions as they were. I shall undoubtedly return to this, my first ever planetary nebula, though whether it will be later this year or not until next depends upon the weather. As ever, the turning of the Earth is pushing this gem closer and closer to the edge of my field of view. Before long, the trees will conceal it from view, and I will be forced to wait until next summer to have another shot!

Farewell Kepler!

Normally this blog is reserved for my own work, but today I have decided to cover a news topic, as it's one that sits close to my heart. A few days ago, it was reported that the Kepler Space Telescope was damaged and beyond repair, despite the best efforts of the NASA scientists involved to right its problems.

Kepler before launch (Credit: NASA/JPL)

For those of you who don't know, Kepler is a sun-orbiting telescope designed to examine a small patch of sky near the border between the constellations Cygnus (the Swan), Lyra (the Lyre) and Draco (the Dragon). Over one hundred thousand stars lie within Kepler's view of this region, and each is monitored by the telescope, which looks for tiny dips in the light emanating from each star. Each of these dips may correspond to a planet passing in front of its star and to date, Kepler has identified 3,277 exoplanetary candidates, 134 of which have now been confirmed as definite.

Kepler's view of the sky. (Credit: Guy Stimpson)

With more than two thousand left to be confirmed, there is still a goldmine of Kepler data to be sifted through, and such data will keep many scientists busy for years to come, but it is still sad that this awesome experiment has come to an end. Like its namesake, Johannes Kepler, who demonstrated that Earth was not the centre of the universe, the NASA project has once again shown us that, far from being unique in the universe, our planet is a mere afterthought in the grand scale of existence. It has shown us giant worlds that dwarf even Jupiter, a world thought to be made almost completely from diamond, and a planet whose skies and clouds are bright, vivid pink. Above all though, it has shown us just what we are capable of, and just how far we can see. It has put us on the long path to answering the ultimate question: are we alone?

Two of the four reaction wheels which, now damaged, have led to the spacecraft's demise. (Credit: Ball Aerospace)

Regardless of my own, or anyone else's feelings about the answer to this question, no-one can convincingly deny that this is a question of great import. Since human beings first began walking upright and making fire, we have been explorers and pioneers, stretching out over our world and ever broadening our horizons, and Kepler has thrown down a new benchmark of where the next horizon lies.

Using statistical analysis from the mission, scientists have been able to estimate the number of planets in the rest of our galaxy, and it's not small. Around 17 billion seems to be the number, and within that simple number resides an incredible premise. To suspect that out of 17 billion (that's 17,000,000,0000 there's only one with liquid water oceans teeming with life is far-fetched, more so than the notion of alien life itself.

Artist's impression of Kepler in action. (Credit: NASA)

So far, of course, we know of life on only one planet, our own, yet even our most distant probes (Voyagers 1 and 2) have only just reached the edge of our solar system, which contains only nine planets. We have been exploring space for only half of a century, yet already we have looked deep into this vast expanse and known our insignificance. With data from past missions like Kepler and Voyager and from future missions such as Juno, Curiosity, New Horizons and many other that will surely follow, our journey into the stars is only just beginning, and it is these robotic pioneers who will be our vanguard, paving the way for humanity to follow as once again, we sail the seas of space and voyage out to pastures new.

A new star!

Over the last few days, there's been a new star in our skies! Well, it appears as such anyway.

Discovered by amateur astronomer Koichi Itagaki on the 14th of August 2013, the attractively named PNVJ20233073+2046041 (now renamed Nova Delphini 2013 - thankfully) was spotted near the borders between the constellations Delphinus, Vulpecula and Sagitta. Rather than a new star, however, Nova Delphini 2013 is a much rarer object.

Nova Delphini 2013 located at RA 20:23:30.73 DEC +20:46:04.1 with DSS data from the same region (prior to Nova) inset.

Deep sky images show a very dim star, around +17 in magnitude, at the precise location of our Nova. Most likely, this is the progenitor of this event.

A nova takes place where a large giant star and a small white dwarf are in orbit around each other. Due to the intense gravitational forces arising from the massive density of the dwarf and the proximity of the two stars, material becomes torn away from the larger of the pair and begins to accrete upon the surface of the white dwarf. As this material collects, its temperature and pressure steadily rises until it reaches a critical point, at which it erupts in a cataclysmic thermonuclear explosion. This violent outburst causes the dwarf to increase dramatically in brightness, in this case by about 25,000 times so far. 

An artist's impression of a nova in action.

How bright this will become is anyone's guess, and the nova may endure for days and weeks to come.

Unlike in a supernova explosion, the white dwarf is not destroyed in the event, and is likely to give birth to another nova, and possibly many more, in the millennia to come. Eventually though, the tiny white dwarf may succumb and be destroyed, causing a Type Ia supernova which may be brighter than all of the stars in the milky way combined!

Sometimes, you just have to make do...

The season is getting ready to begin, and soon, as the darkness draws in ever earlier in the evening, astrophotographers around the Northern Hemisphere will begin to dust off their gear (if they haven't already). I, of course, am no exception....except that I'm about 150 miles from most of my kit!

Not to be deterred though, I've decided to go for something a little different this evening, and have, against all odds, decided to have a go at filming clouds. Yes, that's right, clouds. Those pesky, high level, "you-won't-be-looking-at-naff-all-through-me-mate", nebulous wispy blighters that normally mess everything up. Well, they say that if you can't beat 'em, then you should join 'em.

In view of this then, I've tried to capture the motion of the clouds in front of the rotational pole of the celestial sphere, so, in the brief windows amid the gloom, it's just possible to make out the gentle turn of the Earth as our planet revolves around its heavenly axis. The clouds themselves, too, carry a certain beauty, which believe you me is a tough thing for an astronomer to say!

Enough guff though - here's tonight's effort. 100x thirty second exposures, each separated by about 5 seconds, stitched into around 15 seconds of video, including titles. Enjoy!

Once again, the summer begins to wane, the astronomer begins to wax.

After the glorious sunshine and endless days, it's hard to know why us amateur astronomers rue the daylight so much, but as our planet begins to lean once again away from our stellar parent, I have dashed out eagerly at the first sign of a dark night. Well, it was frankly too soon. Well past midnight it was before the warm blue gave way to a hint of velvety black and little did it last. After setting up the equipment and waiting for what seemed like interminable hours, I once again turned my telescope upon the familiar disc of M31, the Andromeda Galaxy. To my chagrin, whilst the sky was at least dark enough, our next door neighbour lingered tantalizingly behind a tree! Undeterred, I began to take images blindly, but initially to no avail. Then, just as I was beginning to fear that the great mass of stars would remain concealed for the duration of the short night, my camera began to return tentative images of a nebulous cloud appearing betwixt the branches of the offending pine. Soon, mercifully, our magnificent cosmological companion drew itself out from the foliage, and was lofted into the darkness before the waiting astronomer. Almost cathartically I began snapping away. Too long it had been since I had wondered among the stars, my nocturnal subjects remaining hidden by the glare of the sun for several months beforehand. But to my delight now, finally I was able to catch a glimpse of those billions of stars in the adjoining neighbourhood. Andromeda had risen.

Having visited this target before I was keen to make improvements to my old data, and whilst the images on the computer screen were promising, I doubted my own ability to make good use of them. Steep is the learning curve of the astrophotographer, and too often have I gasped in frustration at its complexity. Would I once again discard my data in despair, or would I finally capture an image of which I could be proud?

Mercifully, it seems to be the latter, in part at least. Having had endless software issues (hint: if you use a Canon 1100D and DeepSkyStacker, make sure you download the beta version of the software.), hardware glitches and a general lack of time, it has actually been some days since I captured the data from which tonight I composed my final image, yet finally, against the odds, here it is:

© Guy Stimpson 2013. M31 taken on 6th July 2013 using a Canon 1100D on a 150mm f4 Newtonian mounted on an NEQ6. 30 exposures of 90 seconds stacked and processed in Deep Sky Stacker.

Once again I am delighted to be able to show you the Andromeda Galaxy, our nearest major cosmological companion. As autumn approaches, you can see this celestial jewel with your own eyes (though it may be considerably harder to see for you than for a camera). Look up to Cassiopeia (who looks like a large W to the north-west) and follow the point of its rightmost segment. You may see, if you're lucky and have good eyesight, a faint smudge out of the corner of your eye. This will be M31. Our sister galaxy, it will collide with us one day, billions of years from now. In fact, a recent paper suggests that such a cataclysmic event may have already taken place, some three billion years ago. Whether or not this has happened is unclear for now, but what is overwhelmingly evident is the beauty of this great collection of stars, and the meaning we can glean from casting our eyes upon its dusty lanes and graceful clouds. Once, it was believed that the Earth was at the centre of a small universe containing only the Earth and the rest of the solar system. Now we can see that we are merely a blip, a tiny dust grain in a colossal ocean of stars among many such bodies strewn endlessly over eternity. In some way at least, we are not alone.

It's a planet!.......(sort of)

Well I thought I'd try my hand at planetary imaging last night, so off the mount came the small, deep space imaging scope, and on went the gargantuan monstrousness of the 300P. This being the first time I'd set up the AstroCannon by myself, the effort was somewhat comparable to that of a dung beetle pushing a load up a sand dune. I was persistent, yet somehow feeble next to the might of the great optics.

Anyhow, after much swearing and stubbing of toes, the beast was safely within its harness and it was time to go. Luckily Saturn, my target for the night, was easy to find. I must say that he was truly a sight; bright, full of colour and detail, a little jewel in the still-blue velvet of twilight. Though I knew my aim for the evening was a picture, I could never quite tear myself from the eyepiece. Using ever more power I was able to coax out ever more detail from this heavenly delight.

There is something about Saturn that is not felt with the other planets. Maybe it's the majestic rings or the teasing hints of detail which lie tantalizingly just beyond the reach of the eye, but something about that crowned globe makes one's pulse slow, and one's breath catch in the throat. Whilst he hangs silently before you in the night, the mind spontaneously conjures tales of deep space voyages and raging star-battles. For a time, you're whisked away on an intergalactic sojourn of the imagination until suddenly, with a knock of the eyepiece and a wobble of the scene, you're brought reflectively back to Earth.

Well, after about half an hour of peering through the huge telescope, I decided that it was time to obtain some proof of my evenings work, and so I popped in my trusty QHY5v guiding camera, and....

...nothing; a blank black screen. Maybe I'd nudged the target from the field of view? No. Was the camera working? Yes. Most perplexing. I struggled with these two questions for maybe ten minutes, before finally realising I'd not set the exposure on the camera. At a distance of about 790 million miles at that time, I was going to need a bit more sensitivity!

After many a tweak of the settings and a readjustment of the focus, I was ready to try an image, or rather, a series of images. With planetary imaging, the stability of the atmosphere, or 'seeing' as it is known, becomes key. Throughout the day and night, there is a great deal of temperature change, wind and other turbulence within our atmosphere, and at the high magnifications necessary for planetary imaging and observation, this becomes highly apparent. Through the eyepiece, it is manifested as something resembling watching a penny at the bottom of a fountain pool; the flickering, dancing image ever perturbed by the rippling of the water, making it nigh on impossible to obtain a clear visage. So too with the atmosphere - how are we to know when to press the shutter on the camera, when ninety nine times out of a hundred the view will be obscured?

To get around this problem, we take a video of the target, rather than a single image. This video can then be cut up into all its individual frames and the compromised images (the large majority) discarded. We are then left with a smaller number of images where the atmosphere has cleared, which can be stacked and aligned to make a final image of our target.

Well, that's the theory anyway, but after my first attempt last night I can assure you it's not that simple! I'm not sure what I'm doing wrong yet, whether it be something in the cameras settings, the focus (usually is with me!), the quality of the seeing or an unpleasant combination of all of the above, but there's plainly still a very long way to go. Still, I do now have my first planetary image, and here is is. Saturn, with its majestic rings, thousands of miles in diameter yet gossamer thin, it's wind speeds of up to 1100 miles per hour and its zoo of curious and dynamic moons, here represented by a misshapen blotch on your screens. For that I apologise, but hopefully better is to come:

Saturn (ish): 26/27th May 2013

It's certainly not much to look at, although there is some detail just hinting at its presence. Never mind, I will try again. It's not as if it's going anywhere!

Double blog!

I've decided to start writing some simple explanations of basic astronomy in the form of another blog. The aim is to help with the understanding of the members of the public at an elementary level, but as time goes on I hope to start addressing the more complex subjects, hopefully in a manner that can remain comprehensible to all enquiring minds. If you read this blog, please give that one a go too and let me know what you think!

Here's a link:

Badgerchap's Astronomy

Thanks in advance!

Wow! Loving the widefield!

Well I thought I'd try something new tonight, as a change from the rigours and constant setbacks of deep space guided imaging. I set of on a brief sojourn into the garden, taking nought but a camera, a small, cheap lens and a few whatsists and doodads upon which to balance my meagre equipment.

Well, I must say that despite the simplicity of the arrangements I was gob-smacked by the rather beautiful results, if indeed I do say so myself. Laying down the thousands of pounds worth of equipment with which I have encumbered myself of late, was a decision most rewarding, as I hope to show with these quick pictures. Sure they are noisy, oft the focus soft, and indeed there is a hint of trailing in the stars, but they truly show what can be done with the most rudimentary of equipment (for example, the camera lens was propped up on my wallet and a bunch of keys in place of a real tripod!).

Here we go:

The view over the Dyfi Estuary - 29/042013

The Plough Asterism in Ursa Major - Note the double stars Mizar and Alcor in the 'handle'.

The sky to the west

The sky to the west with mountains, the estuary, and a really unfortunately placed telegraph wire!

Quick info for posterity: All taken at ISO 3200 with 30 sec exposures. Canon 1100D with kit 18-55 lens. Booyah!

Cloudy days make work for idle hands....

At the kind request of a regular reader (thanks Maurice!) I've decided to show off the lovely Skywatcher 300P that I'm 'looking after' at the moment. It really is a lovely beast, so I should share it's glory with you all, rather than just touting my own work and letting its awesome size slip by unnoticed. Here he is, El Diablo:

Skywatcher 300P on Synta NEQ6 Pro (right) and TS Optics 6" on Synta EQ5 (left)

Comparison for size: That swarthy looking fellow is roughly 5'11". The 300P is 1.5 metres long!

I've also included a brief video of the 'scope slewing. It demonstrates nicely how quick the GOTO system can move a setup like this, and hopefully illustrates why such a system is useful, particularly when setup time with this beast takes so long!

The program in use is 'Cartes-du-ciel', an excellent free program which is simple to use and comparatively easy to synchronize if you wish to use it to control your telescope. It will also require the use of the ASCOM platform (ver 6) and EQMOD, another free patch which enables Cartes-du-ciel to communicate with the mount. You will also either need a Synscan (ver 3 or later) handset and a USB-serial adapter, or a USB mount interface, such as the Hitec Astro EqDir. Sorry for the rubbish production values in the video. I think it's clear I should remain an astronomer, never an entertainer!

Oh you just keep getting better!

Well, well. Once again we've been out with the Mega-beast. However, the AstroGods (sic) have been at it again, so seeing as we had such an awfully good session the previous night, we therefore paid with a lot of fiddling and funny results this time around.

However, all was certainly not lost.

Things started with difficulty - focus is remaining as an issue (really must make a Bhatinov mask!) and upon inspection of diffraction rings whilst out of focus, it appears we have a collimation issue to boot.

Regardless of these however, we plunged on, the trusty NEQ6 beeping and whirring as it sped its way around the cosmos above. Even after a couple of nights of use, what really strikes me about this piece of kit is its fluidity of movement, its graceful execution of this mind-bogglingly complex task. Whilst it may seem simple for a human to point a telescope at a particular part of sky, one must remember that this mechanised observer has no eyes and yet predicts the position of over 50,000 celestial objects using only a simple clock and a couple of motors. Impressive stuff.

Our first target then, at the request of my cousin: M104, the Sombrero galaxy, a real looker, at least when Hubble's taking the pictures. At a distance of around 30 million light years, this is no next door neighbour, and not a simple target, even for the Gigantoscope we've been using. Undeterred, we aligned the scope (turns out that if the result of the alignment "may be poor" it's pretty damned good. If it's "successful", it may be poor) and set off for the reaches of the Sombrero, and the faint fuzzy dropped neatly into view. After a frustrating focusing furore we were ready for the pictures, and here's what we got:

50 frames of 45 seconds each, unguided at ISO 800 and 20 dark frames. We attempted flats but they failed, so maybe next time.

M104: The Sombrero Galaxy in Virgo

Not an amazing shot, but the best we can do without guiding. Still though, you can see the huge dust belt that circles this lovely galaxy and the bright core within which lies a gargantuan black hole similar to that in our own galaxy. I really look forward to returning to this target when guiding becomes available.

Now, onto the winner of the evening. If you've read yesterday's post, you'll be familiar with my glowing appraisal of M13 the Hercules Cluster. Well, now you can see for yourself why I adore this cosmic jewel-haul quite so much. Once again, bad focus and collimation, but still it's a beautiful cluster.

21 frames of 45 sec at ISO 800, once again with 20 darks:

M13: The Hercules Cluster

Around 300,000 stars litter this glorious cosmic landscape, with the stars like twinkling dust on the velvet of night. I think it's plain to see why I set so much score by this cluster, and I'm delighted that I can finally show you something which I'm reasonably content with!

Where to start?!!!!

Yesterday was quite a day. I'll attempt to start at the beginning, which is actually the night before!
It began on Tuesday night, when myself and AstroCousin tried to get my rig auto-guiding. Now I've been working on this for ages; getting the mount sturdy and well balanced, calibrating and locking into position the finder-guidescope, working out how to get the communication between the guidance software (PHD) and the mount's handset. Well all of this had worked individually over the preceding weeks and I thought it was time to get it all going for real. So we set up, found a target, went to guide and....nothing. Camera refuses to send commands to the mount. Right, well we stripped everything down, checked all the wiring, checked the soldering from the earlier modifications. Everything checked out fine but the camera just wasn't sending the signals, even though the PC was receiving an image. So it seems like the part of the camera that's connected to the mount is kaput.

Well that all put me in a pretty bad mood, as I've been fiddling with all this for months now. But then, something incredible happened! A friend called to say that he needed somewhere to store his telescope, and I grudgingly (ha!) agreed, on the proviso that I could use his wee-beastie. Well ladies and gentlemen let me tell you when I saw this colossus I was filled with lust, oh yes.
It's a 12" 1500mm focal length (f/4.9) monster on an NEQ6 Synscan mount. Fully GOTO and with more light gathering power than a herd of Hubbles, it looks like some kind of nuclear warhead launcher, and that's before you even turn it on.

Switching on was the hard part. After manhandling the enormous beast into it's brackets and tightening all the nuts, it was time to align with Polaris and fire the cannon up. Nothing doing. Did we need two power sources; one for the mount and one for the Synscan handset? No, that didn't help. Did we need a higher current supply? Nope. Turns out that although they put two power sockets on, you only use the one, which powers both units.

OK so we had juice. Next, the 3-Star alignment. Well...'mixed bag' is about the best description I can give our experiences of this process. However, once we'd correctly aligned the scope, found suitable guide-stars and tweaked our method, we finally had something we could work with.

When the NEQ6 slews with the giant telescope aboard, it really is as if we're targeting North Korea with a huge missile. The lumbering beast swivels neatly into place with unearthly and high-tech sounding beeps and whirs, demonstrating the presence of precision gears and controllers at work. Each time it effortlessly picks out our target and beeps satisfyingly, as if locked on and ready to fire. One half expects that beep to be succeeded by the rat-tat-tat of heavy gunfire or the roar-whoosh of an intercontinental ballistic missile launch.

Instead though, one looks into the eyepiece, and what riches one finds there! First, we visited an old favourite of mine (and everyone else's methinks), M42, the Orion Nebula. I chose this as a) I knew what I was looking for and b) it's a hard target to miss. Well it was lovely. The trapezium leapt out with four clearly defined and well separated stars. There was nebulosity aplenty and the full field of view was filled with that wispy blue smokiness that M42 lovers are so familiar with.
Then came M51, the enchanting Whirlpool Galaxy. This was the first time I had ever seen structure in a galaxy through the eyepiece. The spiral arms were clearly visible, and though I'd expected the evening to remain purely observational, I knew at this moment that we'd be taking a photo of this later on. For now though, we continued with naught but our eyes (and £1600 worth of telescope!). Next to Saturn, which leapt from the eyepiece in glorious colour. At 150x magnification it stood out beautifully against the darkness, three small moons accompanying it. The gap between the rings and the planet was visible even in the weakest eyepiece, and became a gulf under higher power. Also evident was the shadow of the planet upon the rings where they curved away behind the globe. I've seen Saturn many times before, but this was really something special. We even managed to persuade a 'wow' out of my usually under-awed sister-in-law who was persuaded out to see the twinkling edifice, and even more surprising from my wife as well!

From there we ventured to M64, the only mediocre target. It was still lovely of course, standing boldly out against the night, but we'd recently been wooed by the majesty of the Whirlpool, and so we moved quickly on to M13, the Hercules cluster, and that really was a wonder. Clear individual stars peppered the eyepiece, a million jewels sparkling brightly in the dark. The 'propeller' was visible too, a faint three-pointed dimness against the brightness of the cluster. More and more we magnified the cloud of twinkles, and more and more detailed it became, unlike anything else I've ever seen through a telescope. It was one of my favourite targets before, but now even more so.

Finally, it was time for a picture. In went the camera and we fiddled to get a rough focus. A quick 15 second exposure showed the cores of the two galaxies, and 30 seconds revealed detail in the spiral arms. In the end we settled for 75 exposures (25 were thrown out leaving 50) of 45 seconds each at ISO 800, with 25 darks. Unfortunately the focus was a bit soft, so we'll need another shot at this, but the result is still awesome, and here it is, taken with a Canon EOS 450D:

So all in all, an awesome evening. I think we were both suitably mind-blown, and will clearly be spending a good few more nights out with this monster of a telescope! More pictures will inevitably follow!

Back to one of my very first targets last night - the beautiful Hercules Cluster, M13.

Several differences from the original attempt: first it was with a longer focal length scope and so a larger image. Secondly, there were a few more exposures, although still not nearly enough to make me happy. Only about 15 passed muster upon inspection, and I'd like at least four times that many.

However, the detail is definitely better. One thing that really rankles though - eggy stars again! Really need to get on with this autoguiding malarkey (where a smaller scope guides the main imaging scope in order to allow longer exposures and prevent star trailing - eggs to you and me!) as I'm getting bored of saying the images are 'OK' or 'alright'. Would really like to get it down so that I can start posting something really good!

 Anyway -  M13 - strike two:

M13: The Great Globular Cluster in Hercules

M13: The Great Globular Cluster in Hercules
Comprised of around 300,000 stars, M13 (a.k.a. NGC 6205) lies over 20,000 light years away and orbits the Milky Way as a tiny companion; a collection of stars too small to be a galaxy, but yet still very large and extremely old. Many such clusters orbit our galaxy and as such have been instrumental in increasing our understanding of stellar and galactic evolution. This image, composed with the invaluable help of my cousin Jamie, was comprised of 15 of the best frames from 30 of 60 seconds each at ISO 800. The frames were stacked and the curves, luminance and saturation tweaked in Deep Sky Stacker.

Also in the same night we had a stab at a serendipitous find, the Sunflower Galaxy, M63, although we could definitely have done with longer exposures and more of them. Nevertheless, we have something, and it's an easy enough target so we'll definitely be going back to it, hopefully over the next few days, if the BBC Weather website is to be believed!

 

Whilst there's not a lot to see here, a little detail can just be made out. One problem with both of last night's images is that they were unwittingly shot in JPEG format rather than RAW, which means that DSS cannot correctly calibrate the images before stacking. What effect this ultimately has I'm unsure, but I'm certain RAW files would have produced a nicer result. Must remember to change back after doing terrestrial photography!
Anyway, this last image was comprised of 30 frames, each of 60 seconds at ISO 800. Once again stacked and tweaked in DSS, but this time it was taken with a Canon EOS 450D which I have kindly been lent in order to evaluate the camera as a potential upgrade. I must say that being able to connect to the laptop and focus using APT, as well as being able to specify a capturing scheme in this excellent program, has essentially convinced me that moving up to either the 450D or the 1100D is an essential move.

Comet and a full moon!

Finally spotted the elusive Comet - C/2011 L4 PANSTARRS! Been looking for quite a while now so I was really pleased to have caught it on the hop as it begins to make its journey out of our region of space and out into the depths of the solar system. A ball of rock and ice that hurtles around the sun at many thousands of miles per hour, the comet gains speed and also gains a tail as it approaches our star. The heating by the sun causes the surface of the 'dirty snowball' to vaporise. It is this tail that represents most of what we can see from earth, around the much smaller nucleus.

I've recently been given a 200mm lens for my DSLR. It's not the correct fitting though, which means an adapter prevents the use of autofocus, so everyhing here is hastily done by hand - the cheapo astronomer's way!

The clouds were scudding in and out and I was convinced I was going to miss it, but in the end I spotted a gap. I couldn't see the comet with the naked eye but decided to snap around in the general area. Well, for once luck was with me and the small nucleus and fan-like tail turned up on the first shot!

I took a few more and disappeared swiftly. I had enough for a quick animation and a stacked still - now I'm ready to go back with the full setup (telescope and all) next time it's clear. At least now I know it's possible!

Comet C/2011 L4 PANSTARRS from Aberdovey on 26th March 2013. Approx 20 frames of 2 seconds at ISO 800

Besides the comet, I spent a little time whilst waiting for the sky to darken to collect a few images in order to animate the rising of the moon. Not a particularly skillful or well made effort, but I like it all the same. I varied the settings for many of the images used, so I won't bore with the details, but suffice it to say that as the animation goes on, the exposures get shorter. Enjoy!

Both of the animations were made with Windows Live Movie Maker, and the still image was stacked in Deep Sky Stacker.