Something to Crow About

There is real joy when the pleasant spring weather sets in, providing evenings of cool temperatures that I can tolerate with only a light jacket but the bugs cannot. Our garden spotlight softly illuminates the beautiful azalea newly flush with coral colored blossoms and the nearby deep purple irises. The distinctive clink of an aluminum bat connecting with a pitch let's me know that nearby Towson University is having a game this evening. Well, that and their stadium lights lighting up the tippy top of the trees in the field behind my house is also a dead giveaway. 

After setting up the scope I minimize what light pollution that I can by turning off the yard lights. This evening I'm hunting Crow - some celestial highlights of Corvus as he wings his way towards a midnight rendezvous with the meridian. As my night vision slowly improves I struggle a bit to discern the outline, a geometric pattern of half a dozen 2nd-4th magnitude stars. 

The first stop is an eye-catching asterism known as the Stargate. Lying roughly a degree southwest of M104, there is a good chance you may have already stumbled upon it when looking for the Sombrero galaxy. One could probably sweep it up in a star hop by extending a line from k Virginis and Spica westward about 12°, but I take the easy way out and key in the coordinates. At times with a computerized mount you feel like Picard on the Enterprise, barking out the location and issuing a "make it so!" pronouncement. 

At low power in the 10" Newtonian it is delightful - a triangle of stars within a triangle, each having one of the triad much fainter than the other two. Not really seeing any color here but the arrangement is very cool. A little higher power makes it easier to see the fainter members of each of the dual triangles. So what the heck is a "stargate"? Well, near as I can tell, this is a reference to the spaceship portal used in the 80's sci-fi series Buck Rogers in the 25th Century. Hey - if the Greeks can fashion a crow from a trapezoid on a stilt then a "stargate" ain't half bad!

From an easy asterism I go in search of my next objective - planetary nebula NGC 4361, an entry in the Herschel 400 list. If you can see the top of Corvus' trapezoid it would likely be fairly easy to target this with a Telrad. However, the scope is well-aligned so I succumb to the GoTo siren and ask it to do the work for me. I inspect the field at 25mm without any filter, but there's no sign of anything unusual in the eyepiece. Adding the Lumicon UHC and studying the area once more leads me to believe that there is a faint dab of light when using averted vision. Taking the magnification up to 95x with the 16mm + UHC filter darkens the background a bit more and makes me far more certain that I’ve got this 11th magnitude planetary. I use my makeshift drape/balaclava to block out extraneous light in hopes of getting a better look and maybe even catch the central star which is an incredibly hot Wolf-Rayet star, checking in at 270,000° Kelvin (compared to our Sun at about 5,700° K). While I can see the glowing orb a little better it fails to tease out the nebula's progenitor. The nebula appears circular and fairly evenly illuminated, perhaps twice the size of Jupiter. While given the moniker of "The Water Sprinkler" based on images of it that show internal detail, in my scope I discern a faint, glowing orb best seen with averted vision and lacking any structure. The field it is set in is very sparse, made more so due to the use of the UHC filter.

Next in my Corvian exploration is S1604 (Struve catalog entry #1604), one of the targets listed in the AL's Double Star program. This double is not in a very friendly star-hopping  location with multiple other similar stars near it and no solid anchor point to start from. It isn't listed among the keypad’s roster of double stars, so I do a quick lookup of the RA and Dec and key the coordinates. Having expended the effort at the outset of the session to get a good alignment pays dividends as the scope dutifully moves to the spot. Looking over the field at 25mm there are a couple of candidate suns that may be the target, and I think I see one of them as a double. Bringing the magnification up to 156x and revisiting each one I quickly confirm the right one. S1604 reveals itself as a splendid triple system that closely replicates a right angle. The two comes are very close in magnitude with the brighter one making a N-S alignment (PA ~0°) and the other E-W (PA ~90°) with the primary. This is curious, as Burnham's Celestial Handbook lists the position angles as 91° and 73°, clearly at odds with what I am seeing (and what is listed in the AL Double Star program list). Why the difference - is it an errata in Burnham's? I find it hard to accept that the stars changed position that much (especially given one of them is believed to be an optical alignment rather than a true common pair). Not sure that I am picking up any color here, although the faintest of the trio might have a ruddier glow to it.

Saving the most challenging for last, I set off for the Antennae galaxies - NGC 4038 and 4039. This duo of roughly 10th magnitude interacting galaxies should be doable in a 10" telescope, but the challenge becomes plucking them out from the bad light pollution. While the GoTo had been doing very well, for this item I decided to use my star hopping skills to have certainty that I was over the target. Locating TY Crv lying west and midway between g and e Corvi, I nudge the scope northeast until I encounter the 8½ and 9½ magnitude pair of SAO 157047 157046. From there it’s almost due north to HD 104496 and SAO 157048 where the galaxies should be found more or less midway between these two stars. I navigate the route with a high degree of confidence, reaching the endpoint and earnestly scanning the eyepiece field. Alas, there is nothing there to greet me. I check carefully with the 16mm and then the 9.7mm eyepiece, and then repeat the process using the Baader Moon & Skyglow filter. I even grab the balaclava once more to shield my eyes from extraneous light, but there is simply nothing to be had. Perhaps another, clearer evening, or waiting to try in early morning hours next winter, would bear fruit. Sadly the light pollution wins this round.

Star hopping to the Antennae

It's been a very satisfying evening under the stars with my feathered friend. While I'm tempted to continue looking for other spring objects in the area I decide to pack things up since I'll need to be at work in the morning. And that is part of the beauty of our hobby, the heavens (usually) will offer you another opportunity to explore its wonders, even amid suburban skies.

Regal Gems

One of the best aspects of amateur astronomy is the rhythm of the seasons as reflected in the night sky. As we move deeper into fall we have the return of the familiar "W" asterism in the northern sky - Queen Cassiopeia. The constellations that we bid goodbye to in spring now return. It’s like visiting a familiar vacation spot - we want to see those tourist attractions but we also relish a chance for new road trips and opportunities to experience new vistas.

Like any proper monarch our queen is adorned with jewelry – open cluster are littered across the confines of this constellation. We often think of the northern terminus of the Milky Way to coincide with Cygnus, but that perspective arises from residing in the east coast light corridor. Even when we slip away to darker skies it is rare to get a good appreciation of the winter Milky Way as it flows through Cassiopeia and Auriga. I recall many years ago my friends Bill and Doris Burbridge had a place in western Maryland that they observed from. They invited several of us up one October evening for some observing. Perhaps it was just a night of wonderful transparency coupled with minimal light pollution but the sky was stunning. You readily saw the winter Milky Way, and clusters that I had to tease out from Towson were screaming their presence. Evenings like those constitute an astro-high that we photon junkies of the universe constantly want to recreate!

Setting up in my driveway I am confronted by the realities of suburban living as I strain to see Kappa, the faintest of the six stars that outline the queen’s seat in the heavens. I align the mount and set my 80mm Vixen upon it. First stop this evening is a visit to my friend the Owl, a.k.a. NGC 457. This fun cluster is bright, an easy star hop, and has more than enough stars in it to be readily recognized as an open cluster. The two brightest stars form the eyes of the wise bird, and the fainter members to the northwest constitute body and outstretched wings.

NGC 457

The avian eyes, Phi¹ and Phi² are not only beautiful but amazing suns. Phi¹ is actually a yellow supergiant (bordering on hypergiant) that is some 65 times larger than our Sol and, according to Hipparcos data, an absolute magnitude of -7.8! Think about that for a moment – that value represents an object 40x brighter than how Venus appears to us. For comparison Sol has an absolute magnitude of 4.8, so in a sky where all stars are placed at the same distance from the observer, Phi¹ is an incredible beacon that’d be easy to see in our daytime sky, while our Sun would be lost in the light pollution from most of our region. That’s one heck of a star! The companion star (not a true double) is a blue supergiant checking in at some 83,000 times more luminous than our Sun. So together the Owl’s gaze represents stellar furnaces of a scale that we humans find hard to truly appreciate.
I admire the cluster at 30x, a beautiful object set amid a wonderful star field. I think I can see a slight yellow cast to Phi¹ but it may be my imagination. There are probably close to two dozen cluster members that make up our feathered friend in my eyepiece. I have my camera prepped and ready to go so I take the time to grab several 25 sec shots that can be my indoor entertainment on a cloudy night as I process them.

The next item I want to attempt is NGC 7790, an open cluster NW of Beta Cassiopeiae that I saw years ago working the Herschel 400 list using my 6” reflector. As I recall it was small but pleasantly rich. I’m just not sure I can snare it from this location with my 80mm refractor but it seems worth a try. As I am panning the area in my quest I see another old friend pass through the field. This queen of ours has placed two gems – a sapphire and a ruby – together in her collection of double stars. Known as WZ Cassiopeiae, the primary is a ruddy 7th magnitude carbon star while the companion lying about an arc-minute due east is an 8th magnitude spectral class B (as in blue) star. The relative closeness in magnitudes, the easy separation, but especially the red-blue contrast – all add up to make WZ a fabulous if unsung double star. I linger on it, trying different magnifications to see which eyepiece gives the most aesthetic result. Smaller aperture scopes usually do not have enough light gathering power to do color justice, so I’m really pleasantly surprised how well WZ holds up under a smaller instrument. I decide to swap in the camera again to grab a few shots of my colorful friend.

WZ Cas

Back to my search for NGC 7790. I pan the region, critically examining each field for hints of a cluster. Finally I notice something – a small patch that is exhibiting that ultimate tease of barely showing some stars with averted vision but never robustly enough to allow you to position them in a sketch. This has to be a cluster, likely my quarry. It does have one star that can be seen, perhaps 9-10th magnitude, on the cluster’s trailing edge. The body appears as an ellipse of unresolved nebulosity that is at least partially, if not entirely, based in faint stars just beyond the aperture’s reach. With clusters like these it is easy to understand how over a century ago astronomers were suffering from aperture fever in an effort to prove that all nebulae were collections of unresolved stars. How fortunate for us they were wrong and we instead have a far more interesting universe to explore. I sketch the view of this attractive cluster for later confirmation and then start to break down the equipment due to the hour and my body saying it’d had quite enough cold weather observing for one evening.

In hindsight I wish I had grabbed a shot or two of this one as well, because when I went to confirm it the (ahem!) stars didn’t align. Ok, so what was it then? Well I likely need to revisit and grab a better sketch or a couple images but I’m thinking I landed on next door open cluster NGC 7788. It has the same orientation and, most importantly, that single bright star on its trailing boundary. So that’s my working theory and good excuse to observe again the next opportunity I get.

This serendipitous uncovering of a new (for me) cluster served to highlight how there are often little treasures out there that we pass by either in our haste to get to the main target or simply because we didn’t know to look for something. A few days after my session Richard Orr posted his observation of NGC 436, an open cluster below the feet of the Owl. (Richard also gave a vigorous defense of NGC 457 being a Dragon Fly – but certainly an Owl is a far more regal creature for Queen Cassiopeia!). His posting made me realize I had overlooked it while soaking in NGC 457. It was clearly in view – the picture serves as incriminating evidence of my oversight. So now I have yet another item for my agenda the next clear night – observe NGC 436 with intent!

Eta Cassiopeia

Object: Eta Cassiopeia
Constellation: Cas
Type: Double Star
Date and Time: Jan 6, 2007 00:30 UT
Conditions: Partly cloudy, 60°, light winds
Instrumentation: 60mm refractor, 10mm (80x)
Rating
Targeting: 3
Visibility: 2
Wow: 0
Interest: 1
Total rating: 6
Comments: This double is easy to locate near Alpha Cassiopeiae and is fairly obvious as a double at 80x. The secondary is a good deal fainter (7.5) and colorless compared to the significantly brighter primary (3.4) which appears to have a bit of a yellowish – orange tone. PA guesstimate was 330°, actual is 307°. Sparse field stars accompany it. This primary is apparently pretty similar to Sol and so offers you the perspective of what our own star would look like ~19 light years away.
Sketch: