"River-Boat"

USNS Laramie in the Mediterranean, Dec 2018

This is my ship, USNS Laramie (T-AO 203). She is my job, my office and my home for up to ten months a year, operating in home waters off the coast of Virginia, ranging north and south along the east coast of the United States, or deploying around the world to the Indian Ocean or Mediterranean Sea. I have many friends amongst her crew, people I admire and respect, and for the most part I find the experience of sailing and serving in this naval auxiliary to be rewarding and enjoyable.

She's far from my first ship, but after two years aboard I think I can safely say that she's a 'keeper'. I'm planning to stay with this particular "River Boat" (so-called because most Navy Oilers are named for rivers in the United States) for as long as I can. It seems to be a good match so far!

I usually see her from the inside; it's nice to come across a beautiful photograph from the perspective of another ship making her approach to receive fuel and cargo. This image was taken by an officer aboard the Spanish Frigate Reina Sofia; I think it captures my current nautical girlfriend very nicely.

It's also cool to know that one of those dots on the bridge wing (directly above the orange-topped lifeboats) is yours-truly!

Earthrise

"Earthrise", photographed by William Anders aboard Apollo 8, 24Dec1968

William Anders:

We are now approaching lunar sunrise, and for all the people back on Earth, the crew of Apollo 8 has a message that we would like to send to you.

In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth.
And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters.
And God said, Let there be light: and there was light.
And God saw the light, that it was good: and God divided the light from the darkness.

James Lovell:
And God called the light Day, and the darkness he called Night. And the evening and the morning were the first day.
And God said, Let there be a firmament in the midst of the waters, and let it divide the waters from the waters.
And God made the firmament, and divided the waters which were under the firmament from the waters which were above the firmament: and it was so.
And God called the firmament Heaven. And the evening and the morning were the second day.

Frank Borman:
And God said, Let the waters under the heaven be gathered together unto one place, and let the dry land appear: and it was so.
And God called the dry land Earth; and the gathering together of the waters called he Seas: and God saw that it was good.

And from the crew of Apollo 8, we close with good night, good luck, a Merry Christmas – and God bless all of you, all of you on the good Earth.

f-stop: Seven Sisters

A little photographic experimentation. I set-up my Canon SX-50 (a few years old but still rocking) on the bridge-wing railing with my knit-cap as cushioning and vibration-suppression, sighted-in VERY carefully and with a little trial-and-error managed a not-too-bad 1-sec exposure of M45 (the Pleiades in Taurus) at 6400 ISO with the telephoto lens zoomed-out to approximately 50x. You can see that the star images are slightly elongated; this is the effect of the Earth's rotation.

I enjoy challenging my equipment and myself; being an amateur astronomer @ sea means that quite a few of the "rules" and techniques for star-gazing and astrophotography either don't apply or require extensive modification before they can be applied aboard ship. In this case I'm rather pleased with the result.

f-stop: Sunset On The Alboran

Writer's Block

It amazes me how a good, productive day can be utterly ruined by one cretin with a well-timed and pointless interruption. Case in point: I was rounding-out a successful Sunday of writing--feeling really good about what I'd accomplished on an essay that'd been on the burner for weeks--when the phone rang. It was a stupid person with a stupid problem and I had to walk him--slowly--through the solution. By the time I'd hung-up the phone my writing mojo had gone to Tahiti for an unscheduled rest-cure and I was left staring helplessly at the screen, trying to remember where the hell I was going with that particular paragraph. Not only is the rhythm of the essay broken but I'm left unsure of what exactly I was doing with it. Day destroyed.

Sicily!

Mount Etna looms on the horizon as we begin the approach to Augusta Bay, welcoming me back to the Island almost exactly 17 years since I was mobilized here after 9-11--and nearly 40 years since my first visit in 1982.

Time after time, cruise after cruise, I have known the spell of this place. I even lived here for nearly two years (tho' I'm embarrassed at how little Sicilian I picked-up in that time). Even without a linguistic edge I have had so very many adventures here, both alone and with my darling Lucilla. From Siracusa to Messina, Catania to Palermo, Erice to the ancient cities of Segesta and Selinunte...from the ruins of Agrigento to the estate of Horatio Nelson at Bronte. What a wonderful place!

I have a hundred stories, a thousand memories...can this island have been SUCH an important part of my life for SO long?

Oh yes.

Missing The Boat

Well, that's disappointing. I planned the day with care and precision--and almost everything fell through. The Plan was to take a day off here in Sicily, do some tourism-type stuff and some shopping in Catania, come back to the ship to get my equipment and then take a taxi out to Siracusa and join my new Astro-Friends there for an evening of star-gazing 'way out in the hills. Good plan, it was...

 

Unfortunately things began to unravel almost immediately. Buses were late, my cellphone died, and when I came back to the pier in order to clean up, dress in my woolies and gather my observing gear, I discovered that the ship wasn't THERE anymore. It's anchored out in the middle of the bay, with no boats running, and I'm NOT that good of a swimmer--let alone a member of the Polar Bear Club!

 

Now I'm waiting on the pier for Laramie to raise anchor and come back in. That is, I HOPE it will come back in. What a day! On the bright side, I DID get my shopping done...

 

The Next Morning: I’m back on-board 'Laramie' after spending the night aboard USNS Trenton (EPF-5). I’m certainly glad she was in port—though if she HADN’T been there would have been no reason for The Tanker to spend the night at  anchor! Causality can certainly suck. Things didn't work out perfectly yesterday but I'm a "lessons-learned' kind'a guy and I'll take the complications on-board for future planning. Live and learn!

Sicilian Sunrise--17 Years Later

Watched the sun rise over the Ionian Sea. A clear morning with Venus high in the east; I was struck by the dawn creeping down Mount Etna's slopes. And THEN...I realized that it was this exact date, back in 2001, when I stood on the battlements of Motta's lava-black castle in the bitterly cold morning air, watching the exact same sunrise and falling then and ever in love with this rugged, beautiful island in the center of the Mediterranean.

 

Happy anniversary, Sicilia! You and I have seen a few sights, eh?

Meditations on an Inland Sea

The Med! We've transited the Suez Canal--leaving behind the Red Sea, Arabian Sea, and the Gulfs of Oman, Aden and assorted Persians--and now sail the choppy waters of the Mediterranean Sea. After spending Summer in the Middle-Eastern "Sandbox" I find the cool November breezes and haze-free skies immensely refreshing. Of all the bodies of water I have sailed in nearly forty years of seafaring, THIS is my favorite, with its even, pleasant climate and the fascination of millennia of history hidden beneath its swell.

My first six naval deployments (beginning in 1981) were to the Med, and I've explored and sampled the cultures of many of the lands that border this ancient sea; Portugal, Spain, France, Italy, Monaco, Algeria, Tunisia, Morocco, Turkey, Israel, Greece, the Balearic Islands, Romania, and the states of the former Yugoslavia. I well know that in fact I've only scratched the surface--there is SO much to see, to learn!

And perhaps to teach; in my small way I have always worked to dispel the popular image of the American Sailor or Mariner in-port as drunken, loud and crude--heading straight to the bars and houses of ill-repute and of course to 'McDonalds'; to break the stereotype of the Ugly American. I've had some success in this effort, but there is much to be done.

 

And that's okay, for I know that I'll continue to explore these waterways, countries and islands--and I'll have many, many more opportunities to interact with the wonderful peoples that I chance to meet along the way. And THAT is why a life at sea has held me in thrall since I was a teenager; my chosen career gives me the opportunity to explore strange, new lands, the worlds of fascinating people and cultures, and the deep, deep history that lies as foundation for all we know. And it gives me the chance to explore something else; myself in the context of all of these things.

 

This is the Mediterranean Sea, and this is what it means to one particular Mariner.

Amateur Astronomy: Back To Basics

I've come to a decision, one I would like to share with you.  For a long time I've labored to learn a set of star-gazing skills and techniques strange to me in hopes that their mastery would improve my ability to successfully utilize a sub-set of my telescope collection and thus enhance my enjoyment of the night skies.  Over nearly two decades I've spent a considerable sum of money and many, many hours of precious observing time struggling with recalcitrant equipment and the arcane technological spells that promise to make astronomy easier but seem instead to simply complicate and render my observing opportunities both tedious and frustrating.

 

So now I've come to the end.  I give up. Perhaps it's a simple case of prolonged operator error, or even a subconscious desire to rebel against a trend in amateur astronomy with which I've never been entirely comfortable, but as of today I'm calling a halt.  No more. No. More.

GO-TO, you are now dead to me.  Begone!

 

For those of you unfamiliar with the term, Go-To technology appeared on the amateur front over twenty years ago; it consists of telescope mountings and in some cases entire telescopes that incorporate sophisticated computers and software that actually control the instument.  It's impressive stuff, really, requiring only a few simple inputs from the observer to allow the mount to orient ("align") itself to the sky; after this point the astronomer need only press the appropriate buttons to begin an automatic tour of the heavens (in some cases, complete with "narration"!).

In principle, I have long had reservations on the subject of these systems.

 

Firstly, any telescope you buy with a computer system incorporates naturally the price of the go-to into the cost of the scope--and this means that less of its expense is for quality optics. With big scopes this is less of a problem; the computer represents a small fraction of the $$ paid for the telescope. Less pricey go-to scopes seem to be more about the technology and less about the optics--to the point that you are probably paying less than half of the sticker price for the actual telescope.

 

My first reservation is just that--a matter of economics and getting the most optical “bang” for your buck—but my second is purely subjective. In my metaphorical heart-of-hearts I believe that exploring the night sky is a learning experience; that an amateur astronomer misses out on part of the grand adventure of stargazing if he doesn't take the time to learn his way around the neighborhood and get to know the neighborhood and neighbors therein. Go-to telescopes skip several steps; a beginning amateur doesn't NEED to learn the constellations, or how the ecliptic serves as the highway for Sun, planets and Moon, or even how to find the Northern Star, in order to observe galaxies and quasars. Those "baby steps" just aren't required in this newly computerized hobby.

 

In my experience this is a real problem in amateur astronomy these days; I can recall a gentleman coming to one of my group's Star Parties, setting-up an impressive PAIR of 11-inch reflectors linked to a state-of-the-art control and a powerful imaging system (all of which probably cost him more than my car when new), and commencing to take digital photos of a galaxy in Canes Venatici. I was quite impressed--at least until he turned to me and asked which star was Vega. At that point I was just embarrassed for him. He had an observing setup which any professional observatory of forty years ago would have been proud, but had never troubled himself to invest any time in actually LOOKING at the starry sky or learning its fascinating "geography". Think for a moment...imagine all the wonders he'd missed out on!

 

I’ve long believed that these telescopes are having a deleterious effect on the avocation of amateur astronomy as a whole, and on the introduction of new observers to the fold in particular. For the past twenty years, newcomers to the hobby have been bombarded with GOTO telescopes from most of the major producers and importers, promised extraordinary telescopic views and rousing observing experiences without the apparent down-side of actually having to LEARN anything about the sky, such as how to locate stars, constellations, planets, and deep-sky objects.

 

Over the years I’ve watched as new astronomers have purchased these telescope packages, used them a few times, and then put them up for sale. I’ve not only seen but actually experienced myself the anguish of having a recalcitrant computer refuse to operate as advertised, which leads sometimes to entire wasted observing sessions while I argue with a machine.

 

And that is the straw that has broken this particular camel’s back; I simply don’t get enough opportunities to get out, under the heavens. My work and travel keep me away from the eyepiece for much of the year, and I simply refuse to allow balky electronics to limit further my “quality” observing time. This ends now. I plan to spend the rest of my observing life using basic telescopes with a minimum of gadgetry and cabling. Call me old-fashioned, call me over-the-hill, but when you see me at the next star party I’ll be the guy with the plain, simple observing rig—and  I’ll spend a LOT more time at the eyepiece,  which is after all the point of the exercise!

 

Anyone want to buy a very slightly-used GO-TO scope?

f-stop: Enter The 'Dragon'

Ship's Motto: "We Yield But To St George"



HMS Dragon (D35) on the approach...




Bow-Art: a rare sight at sea



Royal Navy "Wildcat" helo on deck

'Dragon', back on patrol

 

I Married The Doctor

 


Lucy's costume for VLM's Night of the Living Museum



Stars Over The Gulf III

The 3rd 'Laramie' Star Party was held last night on the flight deck with the ship moored in the lovely port of Muscat, Oman. I decided to keep things simple and user-friendly as I am in the process of recovering from a nasty ankle sprain two days ago, and so only set-up the Astroscan for a little Moon-gazing.

A half-dozen Shipmates came out to observe Luna, including Captain Donnelly, Chief Mate Lawson, ship's medical maven Nicole "Doc" Shounder and budding astronomer Africa Foster (pictured meeting the Astroscan).

Along with the first-quarter Moon, the International Space Station put in a dazzling appearance. The ISS passed almost directly overhead, Venus-bright--its track neatly bisecting the twilit sky from northwest to southeast. Beautiful!

Good friends, a bright moon, and a Visitor From Space; a pleasant way to spend a warm pierside evening before we head back to sea. I'm glad I started these little ship-board gatherings last month--I do so enjoy spreading the word about the stars and what you can see and experience if only you...

"Watch the skies. Keep watching the skies!"

Astronomical Book Review: 'Objects in the Heavens' by Peter Birren

 

When it comes to observing equipment and resources, my watchword has always been portability. Most of my star-gazing, after all, is done either aboard ship using a rich-field telescope or ashore with a grab-and-go Mak. I try to extend this ethos as well to the paraphernalia of observing; when I tote the Astroscan on deck or the 90mm into my backyard I don't care to be burdened-down by large, un-wieldy Star Atlases or heavy reference books.

What I've needed, and sought, for nearly fifty years was an inclusive, powerful guide-book to the northern-hemisphere sky; a single, portable volume that combines the features of a lightweight atlas and descriptive guide to the planets, stars, constellations and deep-sky objects to be observed from my home and from most of the ports I am likely to visit in the course of my long deployments.

It's been a long, hard slog through the years, as I've purchased, tried, and then abandoned many examples of astronomical writing and even software. Either the resource in question was too bulky, too tech-ie, or insufficiently versatile to meet my standard. After all, the book or program in question had to be able to support my observing activities for up to a year, far, far away from my home astronomical library. Essentially, it had to become that library during frequent long sea voyages.

'Objects in the Heavens', referred to hereafter as OITH, is in my opinion that portable, user-friendly resource.

OITH is the product of Peter Birren, a graphic designer based in Illinois. A dedicated amateur astronomer, he started building the database that would become OITH 'way back in the mid-1990s.

He put a lot of thought into the content and layout of this little volume, and it shows.

 

The book is 8.5" by 5.5", spiral-bound and 132 pages--just the right size for a knapsack pocket or eyepiece case--and printed on tough, water-resistant paper (my copy has survived the worst of Virginia's dewiest nights, requiring only a drying-out and pressing between a pair of heavier volumes to restore it to "almost new" condition).

As for what lies between the covers...

The constellation and object maps are the centerpiece of the effort, and display their subjects clearly and concisely. As in many such books I have tried over the years, they feature facing pages with the map to the right and details on the objects displayed to the left. Larger or "busier" constellations tend to occupy two pages while smaller or "less interesting" members of the sky bestiary are given the "thumbnail" treatment.

The amount of information is pretty impressive, and fine-tuned to the binocular or small-to-medium-sized telescope. As noted previously the maps cover constellations and celestial gems down to -45 degrees Declination, and objects to magnitude ten.

But there is much more to be found in this little book. Sections include introductions to star- and constellation-hopping, celestial coordinate systems, Moon information and "thumbnail" daily lunar highlights for a full lunation (above), seasonal constellation maps, information on major meteor showers, a fairly exhaustive listing of website resources, and a handy summary of solar system information (below).

As noted above, I find this book to be pretty-darn perfect for use in my own "minimalist" approach to observing; I've owned a copy of Edition 5 for two years and now have Ed. 6--and every time I go out under the stars I appreciate Mr. Birren's labors that much more. The back-cover "blurb" that OITH is "Informative for the beginner" and "Detailed for the advanced" observer says it all, I think.

OITH is a field book for use at the eyepiece, and I strongly recommend it for anyone who wants to go out under the stars and explore those "Objects in the Heavens".

Keep looking up!






Features:
• 132 pages, lay-flat spiral-binding, soft cover,
 digest size: 5.5" x 8.5"
• 739 objects to magnitude 10
• 259 non-Messier or NGC objects, 28 of which are binocular-class
• 191 "city" objects to magnitude 7 are specially highlighted
• 171 double stars and multiple stars
• 215 binocular-class objects with separate symbol
• 125 visual associate connections
•   90 objects from mag 10.1 to 10.5
•   80 single and red/carbon stars
•   75 maps: constellational, seasonal, insets and groupings
•   61 observable northern constellations, arranged alphabetically
•   38 astronomy catalogs are referenced
•   24 photographs by Naoyuki Kurita
• Grouping stories present larger chunks of the sky to learn more constellations
• 7 pages featuring the Lunar 100 (and then some) with photos and locations showing when and where to look
• Encyclopedic data on planets, stars, meteors
• Common names list
• Modern Messier list of 110 objects with Marathon constellation order
• Complete object number cross-reference and mapping
• Cross referenced to page numbers in PSA and SA2K



Birren Design's website: http://www.birrendesign.com/astro.html

 

f-stop: New Kid On The Gulf

ITS Federico Martinengo makes ready to come alongside

Connection complete. Commence pumping!

A shiny-new frigate...



 

f-stop: Russian Photo-Op

'Severomorsk' conducts helo recovery operations

Frequent readers will know that I have long held a fascination for the ships and aircraft of other navies; the sight of an unfamiliar rig or unknown flag stirs my blood in a way that warships of my own Navy no longer can. I reach for binoculars and begin picking-out details that might lead to an identification, then head for the bridge's copy of 'Janes' Fighting Ships' to search for a match.

Helix '53' takes a good look at Laramie

If I may say so, I'm pretty good at this. I've had quite a bit of practice over nearly four decades at sea, after all.

Here we have a recent encounter here in the Gulf with the Russian destroyer Severomorsk and his* 'Helix' helicopter. This was an easy "I.D.", for though I'd never actually seen one of these 'Udaloy-class' ASW ships before I've spent a lot of time studying the Russian Navy and it's warships, and it is a very distinctive design.

Shorts and a t-shirt...it must be Casual Day in the Russian Navy

Severomorsk passed several miles from Laramie, which was a bit of a disappointment to me as I would have loved to have seen and photographed him more closely, but as a consolation the destroyer's helicopter came quite a bit closer and in fact flew around Laramie for a few minutes. This was quite an enjoyable air-show, as ship and helo exchanged waved greetings and took snapshots of each other.

As you can see, the 'Helix' looks quite different from Western helicopters, but it's counter-rotating rotor system is actually quite efficient, doing away with the balky transmission system and tail-rotor of more familiar rotary-wing aircraft.

Das Vidanya!



* Ships in the Russian Navy are referred to using the male pronoun.

f-stop: The Sea Of Fire

USS Jason Dunham (DDG-109) patrols hostile waters

 

Stars Over The Gulf II

Captain Donnelly meets the "Red Turkey"!

The first Laramie Star Party was a great success! Eleven Shipmates (including the Captain) joined me on the bow to view the Moon, Saturn and the International Space Station passage which just nicked the edge of Luna, making for a spectacular view through the eyepiece!

The skies were clear for the first few hours, and I'm especially impressed by the cooperation of the Skipper and Navigator, who shaped our course to keep the Moon and planets on the port beam (where masts and booms don't interfere with the view) and decreased speed so as to reduce vibration and improve the view through the telescope.

A good time was had by all, and I now have a "go" for future viewing sessions on a not-to-interfere basis with ship's operations. I'm already planning for the next one. I wonder how many of my crewmates have really LOOKED at the Milky Way...

Stars Over The Gulf I

Calm seas and beautiful skies; the dust storms that have masked the heavens for several weeks appear to have moved on. Last night I gathered a few Shipmates on the portside bridge-wing and took them on a naked-eye tour of the visible planets and Milky Way.

At these latitudes (about equal to those of southern Nicaragua or northern Costa Rica) we can see well down into Centaurus to the south while the familiar stars of Ursa Minor (including Polaris, the "north star") are lost in the summer haze to our north. Thus, the central bulge of our galaxy stands high and impressive in the inky sky.

Just a fantastic view!

Tonight--if the weather and seeing conditions hold--I'll take the Astroscan 'scope to my favorite observing location up forrard. I think it's time to introduce some of my friends here to a few deep-sky wonders.

Stay tuned!



 

In The Sweet Spot

Last night: I was already tired from a long day's work as I carried my Astroscan forward to the Sweet Spot beside the portside boat station--where the ship's engine and generator vibrations are damped-down by a happy coincidence of hull structures and cargo tank placement--and set up for a few hours of stargazing @ sea.

It was an absolutely beautiful night, with only a mild swell to move 'Laramie's hull, a light wind, and those clear, dark skies that can only be found hundreds of miles from the nearest streetlight or 7-Eleven. The kind of sky where the forms of familiar constellations become difficult to discern because of the multitudes of dimmer stars that seem to crowd them out and break up the patterns we grow accustomed to seeing in the heavens.

Seeing and transparency were excellent, and after acclimating my 'scope's optics to the warm, humid Mediterranean air I began to explore.

Open clusters, globulars, planetary nebulae and galaxies presented themselves for inspection; M51, 27, 31, 32, 110, the Coathangar, M13 and 92--all framed in my 40mm and 25mm eyepiece fields like precious jewels and minerals on display. Stars; Hershel's wonderful Garnet, the spooky duo of v (Nu)Draconis, Lyra's Double-Double and so many more...the time flew past as I drank in the light of distant stellar beacons. And as finale; the fuzzy apparition of Comet Giacobini-Zinner, traveling through Cassiopeia, a distinctly elongated blur in my optics.

And, just like that, four hours had passed. If I was tired when I toted my 'scope up to the bows, then I was reeling with exhaustion as I began the climb back to my stateroom and bunk. But I was also drunk with starlight, overpowered by Saturn, Jupiter and Mars, stunned by the vistas revealed by my little telescope as the ship carries me across the surface of the sea and beneath the stars.

Immensities below, infinities above...the word and concept of awe seem to lack sufficient depth and power. To feel the rumble of the engines, hear the rush of water down the sides and the occasional splash of an escorting dolphin, to drink in great draughts of wonder from above...THIS is why I do what I do, and this is why I cannot imagine ever stopping.

 I really do have the best job in the world.

f-stop: The 19-Day-Old Moon

19-Day-Old Moon Photographed from Souda Bay, Crete

f-stop: Lunar Eclipse 27-28 July 2018

Sometimes, pictures really ARE worth a thousand words...

 

 

 

 

 

f-stop: The 9 Day Old Moon

The 9-day-old Gibbous Moon as seen from Marathi

 

f-stop: Sharing The Skies



The 8-day-old Gibbous Moon

Another very nice evening of "sidewalking" on the shore at Marathi; I had two dozen members-of-the-public join me to explore Luna, Jupiter, Saturn and double star Albireo. The little Mak is getting quite a work-out on this deployment, but the time for a rest is not yet here--we have the lunar eclipse coming up on the evening of the 27th, after all!

This, for me, is what it's all about. I don't go to the effort of toting a telescope on these cruises in hopes of carrying-out observations of galaxies or comets. (There is usually far too much light pollution in port areas and cities I visit for "serious" observing) I bring the optics along in order to share the planets and Moon with people I meet along the way.

This is a large part of my enjoyment and love of astronomy; the act of introducing strangers to the greater Universe around them is just as powerful and rewarding an experience as exploring the skies alone. I like--need--to share this sense of wonder with others. Call it Tom's addiction.

Photo: crewmembers from Spanish frigate 'Numancia'--our neighbors on the next pier over--join me to enjoy the satellites and cloud bands of Jupiter. Next stop--Saturn!


'Jupiter' es 'Yupiter' en Española!





f-stop: Moon Over Marathi

Moon, Venus, Regulus and Rho Leonis

A shot from last night; the 2d16h-old Moon (its "dark" face dimly illuminated by sunlight reflected off Earth), bright planet Venus, and two of the brighter stars in the constellation Leo, the blue spark of 1st-Magnitude star Regulus (a Leonis) to the lower left of Luna and the dimmer point of light that is Rho Leonis below Venus.

I love views and images like this one because of the sense of perspective they evoke; at the time I took this photo our natural satellite was 225,000 miles from Earth (1.2 light-second), Venus 87,000,000 miles away (nearly 8 light-minutes). In contrast, Regulus is estimated to be 79 light-years from our solar system, while Rho Leonis is far more remote at approximately 5,000 light-years.

Imagine the distances involved--we are looking back through time; photons streaming across enormous distances to be collected by my eye and camera lens--5 millennia captured in a single snapshot taken on a beach in Marathi, Crete.



 

Another photo of the Moon from last night. I love observing and photographing our largest natural satellite (apparently Earth picks up wandering rocks as "temp" moons every once in a while), and I'm surprised by the amount of identifiable detail one can see on even a hastily-composed snapshot of her disk. I made up a "key" to a few of the features to be seen on last night's image: how many can you pick out?

 

f-stop: Young Moon

The 1d15h23m-old Moon over Souda, Crete

On my way back to the ship at twilight...a sudden rift in the clouds revealed the 1day15hr-old Moon only a few minutes from setting. I managed a brace of hand-held shots before Luna was again lost in the clouds.

One thing that never ceases to amaze me is that one can actually make out detail on a slender crescent like tonight's apparition. In the zoomed-in shot, look for the rounded edge of Mare Crisium (Sea of Crisis) at 3-o'clock, and the small indentation in the terminator that marks the crater Humbolt at about 5-o'clock on the lunar disk.

A hand-held zoom shot--note Mare Crisium and Crater Humbolt

In a few days these details will be lost in the crowd of features and details as our satellite teasingly reveals her face. Stay tuned.

My Favorite Spaceship

"We Have Ignition"

I entered the world in July of 1962, just over fourteen months after Yuri Gagarin of the Soviet Union had become the first human being in space, hotly pursued by American Alan Shepard a few weeks later and then John Glenn's orbital flight five months before my birth. As I developed from infant to toddler the progression of space achievements taking place high above my young head accelerated; by the time I was two years old twelve astronauts and cosmonauts had flown, the latest--Valentina Tereshkova--becoming the first woman to ride a rocket beyond the atmosphere.

Admittedly I was unconscious of all of this astronautic activity; I was far more interested in crawling and taking my first steps than in interplanetary adventure. The first extra-vehicular activity, or space-walk, took place three months before my third birthday. Affairs beyond the clouds simply weren't on my radar at this point in my life, though they soon would be.

Nostalgia is a funny thing. We find ourselves idolizing those who came and went before, seeing an automobile from our father's time as superior to our own and the songs from our childhoods as a sort of epitome against which modern compositions simply fail to measure up. It isn't rational to adore "Gone With The Wind" or "Star Trek" but we do it nonetheless; I'm sure there are volumes of psychological speculation on this topic but I think we can sum nostalgia up as a belief that somehow, someway, things were better in the past.

The Gemini Two-Man Spacecraft

My own nostalgic obsession, the space vehicle of my fancy, flew its missions and retired from the field long before my developing mind became deeply interested (some members of my family might venture to say "obsessed") in space exploration; I was using a red crayon to deface the "D" volume of my family's World Book Encyclopedia during the ten manned Gemini missions of 1965-66.

And yet, Gemini was and remains my favorite manned spacecraft. I read everything I can get my hands on--including dry-as-dust technical pieces on Titan II booster modifications and Rogallo Wings--and build model after model of the capsule and adapter module. I would speculate that, during the build-up to Apollo,  I was often exposed to the image of Edward White's historic EVA (March, 1965) and video of Gemini-Titan launches on TV. Perhaps I fell in love with this vehicle simply because of its sleek, powerful appearance--the "sports car" of manned spacecraft!

Astronauts James Lovell and Edwin "Buzz" Aldrin, Gemini XII Crew

So, what WAS Gemini? It was the vehicle we used in the mid-sixties to test all of those concepts and techniques that would be required to reach the Moon. Originally named "Mercury Mk II", it was the logical follow-on to the pioneering Mercury capsule; a two-man craft, able to maneuver in vacuum and to conduct rendezvous and docking trials using Agena target vehicles. And Gemini had much greater endurance than Mercury as well, conducting long missions on orbit (up to fourteen days in the case of Gemini VII, which also performed a rendezvous in space with Gemini VI in December 1965).

Gemini VI and VII Rendezvous On Orbit

In two years of manned missions, the astronauts of Gemini (many of whom would go on to the Moon in Apollo) proved the technology and methodology of long-duration flights in space, but it wasn't easy OR safe; they had their share of close shaves and glitches, equipment faults and near-disasters. But these were all experienced pilots who had trained hard for their missions, and in every crisis on every mission they persevered and came home that much wiser for their adventures.

Project Gemini ended with the completion of NASA's planned missions in November 1966--but it might have gone on. The USAF ran a parallel program known as "Blue Gemini", intended to support the Manned Orbiting Laboratory (MOL) which would have been America's first space station in the late sixties, but the programs were cancelled due to the cost of the Vietnam War and the perception that NASA and the Air Force were duplicating their efforts.

Journey's End

Planned missions completed and goals met, Gemini was all-but-forgotten in the rush to the Moon. Left behind by history, today few seem to remember that outer-space corvette, with its striking shape and impressive operational record. The Gemini spacecraft, the men who flew it, and the thousands of men and women who built, tested, serviced and otherwise supported the program, served as a crucial stepping-stone to the Moon; a vital link between Mercury and Apollo.

 

So...dreams of a spacecraft that flew before I was old enough to understand it or its missions; I watch the old NASA videos ("GEMINI: The next Step"), read the reports and imagine the experience of Edward White during that first American EVA. I share his emotions as well as anyone can over fifty years after the fact: when Mission Control ordered him (not for the first time) to return to the cramped cockpit of Gemini IV he grumbled "and it's the saddest moment of my life" as he reluctantly complied.

 

Yes, the Gemini missions lie five decades in the past, and even some NASA personnel I have talked to don't know about these space flights that bridged the gaps in our knowledge of the space environment and how to live and work in it. Gemini was more than just the intermediate step between Mercury and Apollo--it was the vital link in that chain of events that took us from Alan Shepard's 15-minute suborbital flight in 'Freedom 7' to 'Eagle's triumphant landing in the Sea of Tranquility and beyond. The Gemini spacecraft and the brave men who flew it should be remembered, not just by a few space "geeks" like myself but by anyone interested in knowing how we got from there to here.

I suppose spaceships need love too.