Of Comets, Worlds and Words

The recent surge of comet activity has sparked a resurgence of my owl nights and hazy mornings. Good grief, just when I had committed to NaNoWriMo and 50,000 words for November 2013. It is hard to focus on a disparate topic of poetic writing when I am currently dreaming of stars, shooting stars and space dust. Time to bring out the big guns!

Meantime, whatever This Mind dreams and This Heart loves, This Hand shall write on! The Party ISON! (Pun! Pun! Pun! lol.)

Thai Buddhism and the Stars

"This trip to Thailand really sparked off a lot of new thoughts in me. This field of cultural astronomy is fun to explore. It helped a little to discover that the first realm of the Buddhist heaven lay just beyond the Moon." 26 December 2000 to 02 January 2001 (Bangkok / Chiang Mai, Thailand)

I have no religion. Not to say that I am not religious or that I have no beliefs; simply that I have no current subscription to any existing religion.

I was suppose to have gone on a trip to Malaysia in this period of time, but as with a lot of things in my life, the offer to go to Thailand for a week came only a few days before the 26th. Patrick figured it must be my karma to be able to go to Thailand on such short notice. I just jumped at the opportunity to explore a different set of skies in a different society and this is my experience..

I have been to Thailand several times before, yet this time it seemed as if I had stepped onto Thai land (the seperation of "Thai" and "land" is done with purpose) for the first time in my life.

26th December: Thai Airways TG409 departing from Singapore to Bangkok. I was travelling with an old friend, Patrick, and his grandfather, Keith (or Gramps Keith). We would be meeting up with more friends in Thailand. I was to discover that in the next few days, I would be travelling with some VERY fascinating individuals, and that they would be my most enlightening experiences ever.

The flight was comfortable enough. I never tasted better inflight fare. Conversation ensued between us three. Gramps Keith is a converted Buddhist from Christianity. Patrick had earlier shared some really curious stories about his Gramps' religious conversion. I had some spiritual ideas myself, and we spent the journey trading opinions and philosophical insights.

Bangkok. As with all places touched by globalization, Christmas has arrived in Thailand. Flashing lights, Christmas trees, huge modern x'mas ornaments, spray-on snow flakes splashed on hot, humid central Bangkok. Yet with all the surface structures that tried to coat the season's cheer over this fundamentally Buddhist country, Christmas made Thailand look like a monastic sage trying oh-so-hard to appear disco-hip. No doubt when the season is over, he will return to his serene pace and wisdom.

Christmas definitely throws Thailand off its own equilibrium. On the outside, there is a "Who-ville" appearance ("The Grinch" is also showing at the cineplexes), on the inside, the many wats (Thai temples) with their Buddhas, brahmas, and devas are still actively in session, untouched and unfazed by the trinkets of the season.

I came to Thailand to see what I could find in the local culture about their interpretation of the night sky. I am probably a few centuries too late. The international symbols and Greek constellations have overshadowed the Thai astronomy circles.

What I have found out are mostly glossed over Thai constellations. (Orion constellation is a turtle with a knife where Orion's belt is.) There are no in-depth materials available. The closest clue I got was to search in the Buddhist temples where astronomical knowledge could be found in the scholastic literature of the Sangha, the Thai monastic order. They would not be in English.

One week is too short a time to find out much else. Immersion in the Buddhist philosophy taught much. It helped a little to discover that the first realm of the Buddhist heaven lay just beyond the Moon. (There are 31 planes of existence in Buddhist philosophy, covering all known gods (including the God) and non-gods, creatures and non-creatures, heavens and hells.)

By day, we explored the various Thai wats of Bangkok and Chiang Mai. We were in the company of learned Buddhist scholars. Suffering, they say, is caused by desire. Unhappiness is caused by desire. The desire to own, to have, to succeed, to want.. there's a pretty long list where this vague summary came from. In death, we will have nothing but our karmas to relive again. For every cause there will be an effect. (This is a lousy summary by my sad self. Please refer to the link http://www.accesstoinsight.org for a better discussion.)

I can see where I have been suffering all this time, the desire for better equipment, better skies.. in summary, I want the universe and I can't have it. That should make me pretty miserable. :) But seriously, the Buddhist thought has a piercing truth to it. "Let any intelligent man come to me," Buddha said, "any man who is also without guile, not a deceiver, but an upright man, and I will teach him."

Something tells me that all the knowledge we humans have made for ourselves, our smart technology and our smarter opinions, they can all be reduced to nothing when faced with the insight of true Buddhist wisdom. We still can't find the beginnings of our universe, nor the end of it.

Stargazing in the city is the same as in Singapore. There is this perpetual haze over the whole country, visible from even on board the plane. It wasn't the regular industrial haze, or the forest fire smoke haze, more like a dream haze possibly from all the burning incense that permeates this country.

Over the evenings, the new Moon waxing and its daily conjunction to Venus has been quite a joy to observe; The fond familiarity of it all despite the foreign soil.

I had looked forward to finding the polar star, but the chance didn't materialize. The skies were still as amazing as I remembered it. The winter constellations were out, Orion overhead by midnight. Leo rising. The faint glow of our galaxy's edge. Then out of the silent skies, a brilliant fireball streaked out from under Leo's paw towards the east.

I think there are more treasures to be found in the richness of cultural astronomy. I'm still searching for answers.

By Lin . 5th January 2001, Friday.

the Leonids of Mersing

"I WANT a fireball.. a big, fat, long, colourful and noisy fireball. As if in response, a blinding white flash zipped instantaneously from cloud to earth followed by a resounding crack." 16-18 November 1999 (Tanjung Resang / Teluk Sari, Malaysia)

[16th / 17th night]

We had been talking about this trip forever. Tanjung Resang was a half-hour drive further up north from Teluk Godek Resort. The isolated gravel road leading to the observation site is not a well-trespassed one. It seemed almost amazing that anyone could ever have suspected the existence of this place which has been favourably compared to the open skies of Hawaii. I can understand why now. Ten coconut trees diffused in an area the size of eight football fields. To the south, a small hill grew from the otherwise unobstructing physical landscape. In the east, the South China Sea dominates. Winds touch the lovegrass-saturated vicinity, making it rather chilly. Light-dispersing clouds ride the winds for most part of the night carrying with them, the threat of sporadic showers. Under the setting moon, our shadows drew longer.

In the distance, thunder rumbled. No one wanted their equipment to take a shower, so other than binoculars, the Celestron ShortTube 80 and C90, all the major league names of Takahashi, Astrophysics, and TMB stayed comfy and dry in their owner's car. The first constellation to be recognized was Cassiopeia. At about the same time, a couple of us spotted the first meteor for the night. Cheers and claps erupted spontaneously. The night was still young at 8.30pm and we all had high hopes of better skies later.

Patches of stars played hide-and-seek with us behind the billowing curtains of clouds. A thick thundercloud smogged the eastern horizon, moving southwest at an alarming rate. Distant lightning flashed followed by rumbling echoes. It seemed to be headed our way. We started to practise scrambling for cover. False alarm, the storm passed south down the coast without touching us.

As the night wore on, the thick fog of clouds started to disperse revealing the potential of Resang as the clearest window to the universe I have ever witnessed to date. I'm beginning to understand the phrase "diamonds in the skies". The quality cut of the stars is absolutely brilliant. (De Beers, Tiffany's and Mondial need polishing up.) Still, no one brought their equipment out. Everyone seemed to be waiting for something else. Under these exceptionally clear seeing conditions, even the small scopes shine in performance. Naked eye, it was a picturesque scene. Gradations in the magnitudes of the stars were remarkably obvious, especially in the Pleaides where I could see five bright blue-white stars plus a dimmer one on the side. Using averted vision, there seemed to be two more in the M45 cluster. The beehive cluster was easily detected, as were a few other star clusters. The fainter stretch of the Milky Way from Vela and Carina to Monoceros was equally discernible. Through the ShortTube 80, M42 in Orion already had an incredibly detailed cloud-like structure. The nebula's tendrils fanned out in distinctive shades. This was something I thought I'll only be able to see in a picture, not in a spotting scope. The observed colour was something of an off-green and grey mix, unlike the characteristic pink in astrophotographs.

I am impressed. Suddenly, every other site that I had ever been to in this region wilted to ashes in comparison. This is one of the best gateways to heaven. It is also the most accessible site for the non-motorist from Singapore.

Standing out in the open grounds, watching the immediate transformation in the atmosphere was amazing. The veiling and unveiling of stars by errant clouds, the scatter of isolated meteors, inter-cloud and intra-cloud lightning. Mentally, I set down the conditions for the ultimate meteor sighting: I WANT a fireball.. a big, fat, long, colourful and noisy fireball. As if in response, a blinding white flash zipped instantaneously from cloud to earth followed by a resounding crack. *WHOA!* I reeled back a little, temporarily blinded as lightning whipped a close-up surprise on me. It was close. Too close. And whoever said Nature doesn't have a crack sense of humour. (I didn't mean *that* kind of fireball! I raised a mental fist at Nature, who I imagine, no! wait.. who I hear rolling on the cloudy floor, rumbling away in laughter.) My friends who'd witnessed my split-second look of shock were laughing too after I told them about my dream fireball. *sheesh*

Soon, I sought refuge in the tent, driven there by the cold and the unforgiving insects out feasting on us. The rest of the group kept their eyes peeled for streaks of light. Meteor sightings (and lightning) were increasing in volume, causing much ado among us. Throughout the night, dispersed shouts and exclamations continued. Two hours later at 3.30am, there was a major buzz of sudden activity as everyone scrambled around frantically outside. I couldn't make out what the commotion was about but before I could pop my head out of the tent to take a look, Tingchuan entered the tent. Almost immediately after, I heard a swooshing sound that was growing louder by the second. A fierce patter of rain beat down on the tent. As sudden as it came, it disappeared ten minutes later. It left quite a few things soaking wet.

After this downpour, I stayed out of the tent till dawn. We were threatened with passing showers two more times that night. 4am, Leo had risen from the east and between the few of us, there was almost a meteor every few minutes. Most of these were springing up across the constellations (Orion, Canis Major, Gemini, Taurus, Capella, Cassiopeia, Perseus, Hydra) surrounding Leo. There were also several earth-crossing satellites. The meteors we saw appeared with trails that lasted from one to five seconds. There were at least two short but fat meteors leaving smoky trails. (I caught one and heard about the other.) I was still hoping for my dream of a fireball, but none materialized. There were a few random meteors that didn't seem to belong to the Leonids as they were not radiating away from Leo.

An hour before the sun, Venus rose with a brilliance rivaling Sirius in Canis Major. It became an honoured source of light pollution. Not long after, the final curtain of clouds fell across the sky and dawn approached. Now please let the second night be good.

[17th / 18th night]

Eight of us decided to try out the observing site next to the beach front at the resort. It was unobstructed from the North to the Southeast side. Loo had requested for the lights at the resort to be turned off, which the manager kindly did. Five scopes were set up on the beach: Takahashi FS78, Celestron Firstscope, C5, C90 and the Astrophysics Traveller.

Again, patchy skies which looked worse than the first night. Closer to midnight, there was a gap in the clouds and Jupiter had its break. The scopes were quickly trained on it. This was one thing I *had* to see through Loo's Astrophysics. All the circumstances could be considered ideal. The image of Jupiter was more than magnificent.

Before I describe what I saw, I have to admit something: Other than the pictures that Voyager took of the planets in our solar system, I have never been impressed, dazzled, wowed, or struck by any image with ground-based telescopes before. This would have to be my first experience, and I am impressed, dazzled, wowed, AND struck by the image. In all honesty, even the 6-inch apochromatic scope at the Science Centre's Observatory was no match. Quite possibly, this is not a contest of equipment, but of environmental factors.

Jupiter's Great Red Spot was easily detected, along with its two major red bands. There were numerous fainter bands at the poles. Was I dreaming? I don't think so. It was almost like looking at an image taken off the Voyager with probably 30% less details. Colour shades range from the palest cream yellow to brownish-red. It looked like an artist's palette with intricately blended colours that still remained distinctive while flowing across its cream surface. Now THAT is one heck of a scope on one heck of a planet.

The sky fogged over and looked set to stay that way for the whole night. Lightning, thunder and clouds swept the eastern expanse with a thick and heavy brush, signing off our last night at Mersing. The Leonids weren't too disappointing this time round. There were many faint meteors but no fireballs. I have a vague suspicion that we could really be having a storm if not for the monsoon season. But in comparison to what I saw last year at Sentosa's Tanjung beach, I have no complaints.

By Lin . 20th November 1999, Saturday.

AstroBASH!III : the NUSAS Star Party

"This was our third star party and first overland trip to Tanjung Sedili - a rustic getaway lazing on the east coast of Malaysia. 21 amateur astronomers, amateur *city* astronomers, most of whom are about to be initiated into the physical world which inspired the mappers of the URANOMETRIA. With open skies to North and East, and little city glare, the chances of having good stargazing settings were high." 14-16 June 1999  (Sedili, Malaysia)

It was everything I had hoped for.. except for the black sand, which wasn't really "black sand" but pristine sand which had been polluted by I-have-no-idea-what. Pity. There were subtle hints that the place could have been a really beautiful white beach. But that's not what this article is about.

It's suppose to be about dark nights, great skies, many suns, zero Moon, and the only cloud-like thing that won't be cursed at is the Milky Way. Of course, no significant details shall be mentioned about insects. The fireflies were lovely. I think they were the only ones that flew around and DIDN'T bite.

In fact, I'll say the whole trip was great. Two glorious starry nights are worth the zombie-fied state that followed the time after dawn.

[14th / 15th night]

It was still heavily overcast at dinnertime and hopes of prospecting for stars that first night appeared bleak. A picture-perfect sunset awashed with a thousand hues appeared with the sea mirroring in kind. The clouds eventually dispersed at 8pm. Other than the occasional cirrocumulus, the night was otherwise excellent. The Big Dipper, just above the eastern sea, was the first constellation to greet the observation site that was located on a bay. Attention was given to Mizar, a visible double star system in Ursa Major. To the west, Leo was readily visible with Regulus twinkling brightly. Draco, Aquila, Cygnus, Lyra, Pisces, Aquarius, among other constellations, slowly made their way across the east side.

The Milky Way, which many mistook for a wisp of cloud, became clearer as the night wore on. Conditions improved greatly at around 3am when the hazy band stretched across the zenith. It poured out from Sagittarius' teapot, with Scorpius' tail dipping in, and Cygnus careening over its surface. Scorpius was strutting around gloriously. Antares, the heart of Scorpius, and the red rival to Mars (which was close to Spica in Virgo), was bloody brilliant. The M7 open cluster and NGC 6231 were discernible. M7 looked good through a pair of 7x50 binoculars. The hunt continued for star clusters and distant galaxies.

As the stars saturated the night, they overwhelmed the novices who had a challenging time figuring out the various constellations and asterisms. Someone in his stellar confusion, thought he had seen Orion, oblivious to the fact that Orion was on his personal June vacation from the night. Light sabres cut through the night as bright and focused torchlights were used to help these budding stargazers scan the myriad of stars and guide them around the star-speckled neighbourhood. Human ingenuity never fails in confusion. Soon, one of them discovered that myopic stargazers could simply remove the glasses they are wearing. A pair of unaided myopic eyes acts as a crude filter that allows only objects brighter than magnitude 0.0 to be visible. Known unofficially as "Kelvin's Zero Magnitude Filter", it proved to be a big help to many novice stargazers. (Kelvin was our cameraman for the trip.)

Other miscellaneous objects in the night sky included artificial satellites and meteors. The brighter satellites observed that evening numbered around four. While many were delighted to see these man-made shooting star wonders, meteors drew an even warmer response when spotted. At around 5am, The stars looked even brighter and many other stars that were previously too dim now appeared. By this time, Jupiter and Saturn have risen. It was a good chance to observe Saturn as the light polluted skies of Singapore mars most planetary details. Through a 6" Schmidt-Cassegrain, Saturn looked like (quote) "a yellow squashed hamburger", an apt description which many identified with. Over at Jupiter's, two of the Galilean moons were visible, together with the two brown bands on Jupiter.

The sun rose from behind the hills at around 6.30am. It showed itself bit by bit, against a background of orange, yellow and red formed by the clouds. The sun first revealed a little edge, then a bigger fragment, which grew into a semicircle. Eventually, the sun was totally visible. The clouds became a kaleidoscope of colours, changing with each moment as Helios awoke and continued on his path across the sky. Those who were patient enough to delay bedtime by an hour to catch the sunrise were justly rewarded. By this time, the sea had receded about 500 metres from shore, and one could literally walk across the seabed.

[15th / 16th night]

The second night was dedicated to astrophotography. The southern skies looked better this evening, with Crux and Ursa Major vying for attention. Unlike Singapore skies where only Alpha and Beta Centauri are visible, the whole shape of Chiron the Centaur could be made out clearly. Through a pair of binoculars, the Jewel Box in Crux enchanted many. The Ring, Swan and Dumbbell nebulae were also observed through the telescopes, much to the delight of many who saw them for the first time. The Ring nebula was a fuzzy patch with a pinhole-like opening which require the viewer to be visually gifted in order to glimpse it. Most could not quite see the pinhole in the nebulae. The Swan nebula was even more demanding on one's imagination to visualise a bird out of a fuzzy patch. The Dumbbell nebula looked more like an apple eaten to its core, than a gym apparatus.

Just when everyone thought the second night was better then the first, dark clouds suddenly marched across the sky, snuffing out all celestial bodies in its wake. All equipment was swiftly moved into shelter for fear of rain. For most, the second stargazing session had ended. Some of the more enthusiastic ones remained under the sky, hoping that it would clear. Though shorter than the first, the second session was still quite an eyeful.

By Lin . 25th June 1999, Friday.