More Stargazing in Better Weather

A clear, calm day finally arrived last week, so my coworker Gareth and I took advantage of the opportunity to see what we could find. Gareth's primary interest is watching auroras; there were none that day, so he scanned the sky to see what else he could find. Lucky him, he stumbled upon 47 Tucanae, the second largest globular cluster in the sky! It looks spectacular through binoculars, with it's bright center and distinctly dimmer edge, almost like the iris and pupil of an eye. Using my star charts, I located the Omega Centauri star cluster, the largest and brightest globular cluster in the sky. It looks like a bright fuzzy patch without binoculars, and with them, it looks like a brighter fuzzy patch. While bigger than 47 Tucanae, it lacks the same textured appearance.

I was able to find significantly more constellations this time, including Chamaeleon (the chameleon), Dorado (the dolphinfish, a.k.a mahi-mahi), Reticulum (the net), Hydrus (the water snake, not to be confused with Hydra), and Tucana (the toucan). Of the constellations clustered around the celestial south pole, there remain four that I haven't spotted yet, mainly because their stars are so dim.

After hunting the polar region of the sky, I then shifted focus to stars closer to the horizon. In the north, bathed in the faintest hint of twilight, stood Orion—upside down (see photo below). At this latitude, only his belt and feet can be seen, as if someone shoved him head first into the ground with his feet sticking up into the air. It makes me chuckle a bit to see it. :)- The Orion nebula was clearly visible to the naked eye and beautiful to see with binoculars. Saturn is also visible most of the day, sitting a little below the star Spica. I'm not certain, but I think I may have been able to make out Saturn's rings a bit using the binoculars. For the past week, the circumpolar moon has been bright in the sky, making stargazing difficult. Soon it will disappear as it moves toward new moon, allowing the return of darker skies and more stargazing trips. Here's hoping the weather cooperates.

The constellation Orion suspended upside-down over the mid-day twilight of late May.

An Attempt at Stargazing

Last Friday, the sky was clear and the wind was light so I borrowed a truck and drove to a dark spot just behind the hills on the northeast side of station. The lights of McMurdo cannot reach that far, thus creating an area of almost unblemished darkness by which to view the stars. Unfortunately, this particular spot was significantly windier than town, and there was a great deal of blowing snow. I decided to make my best effort, so I pulled out my star charts and selected a handful of constellations to find. Despite not being able to last outside in that howling wind for more than a few minutes, I found the constellations Musca (the fly), Circinus (the compass), and Triangulum Australe (the southern triangle), three recent constellations that were created and named between the fifteenth and eighteenth centuries by astronomers filling in gaps in the southern sky.

I also took a moment to look around me in the utter darkness filled with blowing snow, to listen to the wind, and to absorb the enormous isolation in which I stood. I have had only a few moments like this down here, moments in which the vast emptiness of Antarctica entirely envelops me. This time, I felt a primal terror, a sense of panic for fear of loneliness, blindness, death by freezing, and utter disconnection and abandonment. Of course, even as I had these feelings I realized they were just feelings, as if my mind were observing another more instinctual part of me responding to my surroundings. It was still quite an experience; I understand why some of the early polar explorers went mad during their winter stays. As I drove down the hill back into town, I was still a bit shaken. Nothing about this place should ever be taken for granted, even in as large a station as McMurdo; we humans don't really belong here, and Antarctica shows no mercy.

Stanley Kubrick's "The Shining"

Tonight was the sixth night of the Stanley Kubrick Film Series that I've been hosting this winter, and the feature film was "The Shining". This is only my second viewing, and it's been a while since I've seen it. The story contains a number of ambiguities that I want to understand but seem unable to figure out. What is the significance of the picture at the end of the film? While it does clarify Grady's statement earlier in the film in which he tells Jack that he's always been a caretaker, it opens the door to the possibility that Jack himself is a ghost or some other kind of manifestation of the hotel itself. But then did Jack's entire life up to that point contrive to get him to the hotel to kill his family? Another unclear aspect is whether Jack has "the shining" just like his boy. If he does, he is unaware of it and unable to relate to it; or maybe the hotel is simply taking over his mind? Danny's state of mind was unclear to me as well: he obviously has some sort of ESP but he also seems to have developed a sort of split personality in his friend Tony; it's as if Danny's been seriously traumatized (perhaps from his father dislocating his shoulder?). When Tony takes over Danny's mind late in the movie, it makes me think of a person who has slipped into survival mode, yet it also seems more than just a psychological defense mechanism. Somehow it's related to his ability to sense what's going on beyond his senses. And what on earth does the shot of the man with the person in the bear costume supposed to mean? It truly is bizarre, but I appreciate the insertion of a bit of humor into a tense scene. :) I have not read the book, and my understanding is that Kubrick's version is a bit free with some of the details. Perhaps a read through King's novel would shed some light on the film, but then again, Kubrick has a knack for ambiguity. Despite all the details that I haven't made sense of, I immensely enjoyed the film and look forward to seeing it again.

Let the jitters begin!

It's nighttime here, all day. The stars were out this morning, but clouds have rolled in turning the sky black. The clouds themselves are invisible; it's the absence of the stars that I notice. Two months have passed since I last saw the sun and even more since I last saw living greenery and animals romping in the wild. I'm listening to Beethoven's Pastoral Symphony as I work because I'm craving trees and birds and water and thunderstorms. (I've yet to hear thunder in Antarctica.) Beethoven beautifully mimics the sounds of the forests and rivers; somehow I never noticed quite like I do now.

I've received a great deal of encouragement to continue blogging during my time in Antarctica. If you haven't seen "Joseph on Ice", it is worth checking out. There are fourteen months of photos and stories from my first contract at McMurdo Station. I enjoyed writing weekly updates, and when I left I posted a farewell to Antarctica, which was also intended as a farewell to the blog. Even though I knew I was coming back for at least one more season, I also knew that to blog about life at McMurdo Station again would be redundant.

Instead, I'm starting a new blog with a new purpose! This one is just a forum for me to write about anything and everything. Much of it will concern my life, including occasional photos; the rest of it will be devoted to any number of topics that happen to be in the air for whatever reason or other. I have only two guidelines for my postings here: 1) any and all topics and opinions are fair game, and 2) I will be honest and forthright in what I say. Everything is open to discussion, so please add comments if my words spark a response within you. I'll either reply in the same comments section or address the issue again in a subsequent post. Let me say how excited I am to be blogging again!