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Southern Cross - May 1997 |
Far Away and Long AgoRoss Gould A little while ago I offered to write something on the NSW Astronomical Society in its earlier days; recently I was asked to write the next astro-autobiography in our club series. What follows is a combination of the two, with extras. BeginningsHow to recall one's first interest in astronomy? - somehow it happened, and early memory tells that the sky was a matter of importance, though not why it was. I do know that by age 9 I was reading books on astronomy, and despite the lack of a telescope or even binoculars I watched the parade of celestial objects. My 11th birthday present was Norton's Star Atlas, plus a little book on identifying the southern star groups, by M.A. Orr. My family lived at the time in Lindfield, on Sydney's North Shore, and the bush started at the end of the yard - providing a dark sky. We moved soon after to Hurstville, in Sydney's south. That year I came upon the Astronomical Society of NSW, in those days still called the Sydney Amateur Astronomers. It had been established about 1955, from some ex-members of the NSW BAA deciding to set up an alternative group. I became a member of the flourishing and populous junior section, which included quite a few girls despite this being pre-feminist days. As well there were adult members who visited to talk about astronomy. Junior meetings were held on Saturday afternoons, and sometimes extended into evening observing. The Patston family's huge yard at Belfield in Sydney's inner west was the location for meetings, at first in a garage, then in the new clubhouse which the members constructed. Hot summer afternoons, and milder ones, in the garage or beside it, gave way to a more settled existence in the clubhouse. When it was completed, Bart and Priscilla Bok were invited to do the official opening, another highlight. Among junior section experiments was photographing star trails with a fixed camera, an enterprise now overshadowed by David Malin's superlative example. My fondest memory of this endeavour was the young woman in the chemist shop who asked, when I picked up my prints, whether one used a flash to photograph the stars. Club TelescopesAt the back of the grounds a "moonwatch" fence of small telescopes had been erected, for observing the early artificial satellites of the space age - this survived until the early 1960's. When I joined the group there were regular satellite watching nights, a fence of observers sitting at their little "moonwatch" elbow telescopes. Satellite transits were timed - this allowed better orbit calculations, including knowledge of decaying orbits as low Earth satellites gradually surrendered to drag from the upper atmosphere. Near the clubhouse was a 10-inch F/8 Newtonian telescope, in those days a considerable instrument. There was also a venerable 4-inch Cooke refractor, sans finder, which had its own pillar near the moonwatch scopes. This instrument had been part of the observatory of Ernst Wunderlich, of the family which had founded the Australian iron and steel industry. Because juniors were rarely allowed to use the club's 10-inch reflector, the 4-inch refractor got a considerable workout - and it convinced various of us that refractors had a special quality, with only a lack of aperture as a disadvantage. I had already been smitten by the refractor bug because my first impressive views of the sky were at age 12 at Sydney Observatory, through the 11.4-inch refractor. Mars showed dark markings and a polar cap; and Saturn, with nicely open rings, was impressive - the Moon was amazing, and three-dimensional - great mountains and deep craters at 300x - it was the region of Theophilus, Cyrillus, Catherina, on the terminator that night. The 4-inch didn't quite match this, but was impressive nevertheless. The lack of a finder meant one had to learn to starhop by sighting along the tube. No Telrads in those days to obscure the fainter stars with a red glow. And Sydney light pollution levels were less overwhelming then - the 4-inch showed stars in 47 Tuc, for example. In the early 60's there was an attempt to build a “coelostat” (not a fossil fish) for solar observing. This included a tunnel under part of the grounds, along which the solar image would be projected. The coelostat was never finished, but was a fascinating diversion for a time. During the 1960's the NSW Society received the "McNiven Gift", a 6-inch Unitron refractor on an observatory mount. McNiven was a wealthy ice-cream manufacturer who had bought the telescope from Esdaile's (the source for telescopes in Sydney then) to look at yachts in the harbour. EW Esdaile, the firm's founder, proposed instead that McNiven donate it for astronomical use. The telescope was donated and not long after someone broke into the clubhouse and stole the optics. EW Esdaile meanwhile was feted in the Society, and was talked into writing a reminiscence of the Goondiwindi eclipse expedition in the 1920's. I later found that Esdaile had been part of the NSW BAA at least as far back as 1906, and therefore had begun in the latter end of Tebbutt's era. But there was a great silence in the 60's at Belfield on matters of history - despite Peter Williamson recalling visits to the Tebbutt Observatory (with another society). Bok and EggenApart from junior meetings, one could go to senior gatherings - and there encounter among others the impressive figure of Bart Bok on those occasions when he was able to visit from far away Canberra, to seduce all listeners with his enthusiasm and larger than life personality. I first came across Bok through his and Priscilla Bok's book The Milky Way - shortly before I encountered the authors in person when they visited Belfield. In those days one also saw Bok on television - he was advocating a large telescope for Australia, at first a 120-inch - an advocacy which led eventually to the AAT at Siding Spring, by then enlarged, as seemed to happen with most things Bart Bok put his enthusiasm behind. The last time I saw Bok in person was at a very crowded public lecture in Sydney, given at the old Sydney Tech College in Ultimo. He spoke on the Magellanic Clouds. We regretted his departure a little later. His successor was to prove very different - we had all been lulled into a sense of positive relations by Bok - and a feeling that amateurs had a place in the world, could collaborate with professionals. Astronomy was for everyone - and could exist in different forms. The coming of Olin Eggen as Bok's successor at Stromlo provided "the shock of the new"... it was as if Bok's qualities had been systematically reversed. Eggen spoke against the "ooh, ah! school of astronomy", which seemed to be his description of amateurs. His manner was neither welcoming nor inspiring. Eggen essentially wiped out the previous style, without there being anything to replace it - consequently he became irrelevant to amateur astronomy. Other professionals were cultivated instead, though with a lasting sense of disappointment at the gap created. After Bok, disappointment was inevitable - Eggen's style exaggerated the change. Getting a TelescopeWe juniors were, however, encouraged into telescope making. These were the days of do-it-yourself if you wanted an affordable telescope of reasonable size. Mirror making kits with 5-inch diameter glass were made available. I recall long hours grinding my way through increasingly fine powders in hope of a mirror at the end. I still have the disks, unfinished. At that time I had only an old brass and leather marine telescope, passed on to me after an elderly uncle died when I was fourteen. This hand-held, 40 millimeter aperture beast at least showed what any good finder will - Jupiter's moons, larger lunar craters, some star clusters... anything helped. I finally solved the desire for a "real telescope" at age 16, when one of the older members died, and his widow put up for sale his two telescopes, a 3-inch refractor and 6-inch reflector. She wanted them to go to "good homes". I bought the 6-inch reflector, with some parental help, and I retain an affectionate feeling for Arthur Thomas, whom I had not known, for the telescope I "inherited" from him. My friend John Gilbert bought the 3-inch refractor. Soon after another of the juniors came by a 5-inch refractor. This had been found under a house in Vaucluse! Yet another with family help acquired a 10-inch F/12 Newtonian - this monster proved difficult to set up and to use. Other junior members had previously resorted to 6-cm refractors, mostly unsatisfactory. The mounting of my telescope was an equatorial head with setting circles, mounted on a steel pipe loaded with concrete. This my father and I dug up from its previous location, and re-erected in the backyard at Hurstville. A bag over the mounting kept it weatherproof - observing only required carrying outside the tube assembly, no great weight. The mounting was permanently aligned. Despite no drive, it was a useful arrangement. This telescope stayed with me for quite a few years, and showed many objects in addition to the usual showpieces. Among the highlights of its use was finding a comet, which I hadn't known was about - of course it had been discovered some time before, but I briefly had the experience of independent discovery, as for some reason notice of the comet's reappearance from around the sun had been overlooked in the society. The finding was fortuitous - I've never had the patience to go comet-hunting, and I'm still happy to leave that activity to Vello and Bill Bradfield. A Comet, Flare Stars and PeopleThe comet served as an introduction to Arthur Hogg, Deputy Director at Mount Stromlo under Bok, who happened to be the guest speaker that month at the SAA. He was positive and encouraging about finding ways into astronomy. Dr Hogg died only a few years later, as acting Director just after Bok's departure from Stromlo. The 1960's at Belfield were a period of planetary observing and flare stars - planets were in vogue in those pre-Neil Armstrong days, and the new flavour was the flare star program done with CSIRO. Amateurs watched red dwarf stars for long hours at the eyepiece, in the hope of seeing a flare - while radio telescopes "listened" to the same objects. It was an attempt to open two windows simultaneously on the same objects, to correlate radio and optical observations. It also gave some of us our first view of Proxima Centauri, one of the flare stars. I recall editing a junior section journal for a period, and showing the sky at a variety of "field nights", what we'd now call public nights. In the late sixties I usually operated the 4-inch Cooke. The first field night I went to was held off-site, in Parramatta Park, not far from the remains of Governor Brisbane's Observatory of the 1820's (some masonry pillars). This was long before Parramatta became the geographic centre of Sydney, and gained an overlit football stadium. The experience lingers, including a view of Omega Centauri in a "superfinder" - a 5-inch F/5 someone had constructed around the objective. People came, and the sky was reasonably dark despite half Moon and local lights. I have said little thus far of club personalities. Gordon Patston was one of the prime movers and shakers in the NSW society of those days, the single most significant person. There are times I feel he was like the larger than life 19th century astronomers, and he certainly brooked opposition as little as Henry Russell had done. He was capable, determined, a good observer, a telescope maker, and one of the "true believers" in astronomy. He also believed strongly in the good work done in the junior section, despite a falling out between him and our first section leader, Laurie Shannon, leading to Laurie's departure. A loss. Laurie's replacement was a young science teacher, who left after a time to take a job with the rather new Parkes Radio-telescope. End of an EraIn 1969 the Great Schism occurred, and the NSW Society lost its clubhouse and site. There had been an attempt to change the nature of the society, and this was resisted by some members. Personalities had too often loomed overlarge in that group - in 1969 this came to a head, and the society split and became homeless. Not being inclined to politics or fighting, I ceased to be a member. I joined the Sutherland Astronomical Society, at that time named after Captain James Cook. Then as now it was a friendly group, with an absence of the personality conflicts and politicking that had periodically disturbed the NSW group, even before 1969. Here I found the Belfield 10-inch reflector again - it was lent there, as the NSW Society no longer had a site. Keith Selby, one of its makers at Belfield, was a founding member of Sutherland. While a member of the Sutherland group I observed a series of mutual events of Jupiter's satellites in 1973. This I found fascinating, particularly the occultations, watching the satellites approach each other, blend and merge, then separate again. On steady nights a six-inch Newtonian allowed satellite disks to be seen, of varying size - though it was not able to show partial occultations as figure-8 shapes. A bigger telescope would have been useful, for better resolution. Even so, my timings were fairly good, and one correlated within a few seconds of a photoelectric series done at Siding Spring. Who Did What When?I had developed an interest in the history of astronomy at an early time - came 1972 and I decided to look more closely at Australian astronomical history, an area I knew little about, and on which I could discover few writings. The best of these was Pietro Barracchi's article, revised by Richard Woolley, in the old Australian Encyclopedia. I began to read through the old journals, and discovered a wealth of material lying fallow. In 1973, doing a Dip.Lib. course at NSW University following a degree at Sydney, I made my thesis component of the course an annotated bibliography of Australian astronomy - choosing the period 1820-1920 to keep it manageable. I spent much of that year in the Public Library of NSW and its Mitchell collections, looking at both published and manuscript materials. Apart from discovering many "forgotten worthies" I was able to wander through papers annotated by John Tebbutt and others, and read some of the correspondence so prolific in pre-telephonic days. In 1974 I spent two weeks at Sydney Observatory, to check old letterbooks and manuscripts, as well as some publications not available elsewhere. It was a fascinating experience - the thick stone walls of the Observatory eliminated the sounds of Sydney, and it was like stepping back a hundred years. I almost felt that turning a corner I might encounter the irascible Henry Russell, the late 19th century Government Astronomer who was at the observatory for over 40 years until his death in 1907. There were instruments from Governor Brisbane's Parramatta Observatory on display, rescued after that place became victim to white ants in 1848. Some later instruments, no longer in use, were also displayed. This time gave me acquaintance with Harley Wood, who was to retire later that year. On social occasions - one occurring while I was there, a staff member departing - Harley would be encouraged to tell one of his stories. These dated back to "the old days" - pre-WWI, often 19th century. Harley had apparently got these from James Nangle, who was Government Astronomer when the young Harley came to the Observatory in the Depression years. Nangle went back a long way - born in 1868, he had been a stalwart in the NSW BAA, and was acquainted with Russell, Tebbutt and others of that earlier time. On that day Harley's story was of Henry Russell. "When I came here in the 30's," he said, "there were still wires running from the Director's office throughout the Observatory, high on the interior stone walls. In Russell's day there had been a bell above each desk. When the Director wished to see someone, he would pull the wire and the bell would ring above the person summoned. One day, Russell wished to see one of his assistants. He rang the bell, but no-one appeared. He rang again, but still no assistant. Russell went looking for the man summoned, and found him at his desk. 'Did you not hear me ring, sir? Why did you not come?' To which the reply, 'I would not summon my dog that way'". The story is very revealing of Russell's character, and of Harley's choice in stories. I came to think the unidentified assistant was CJ Merfield, a fine mathematician at Sydney Observatory who later moved to Melbourne Observatory. He and Russell got on badly - and I found while there a note from Russell complaining of Mr Merfield, who tried to sneak by under the Director's window when he arrived late for work, "but I saw him". Russell's note made plain this was only one of many faults he had found in Merfield. The tales of that era are wonderful, but too many of them have been lost. Harley appears not to have recorded them before his death, soon after Sydney Observatory became a museum. The other person who knew them was Bill Robertson, his chief assistant and briefly Government Astronomer after Harley. Robertson died not many years after, as I discovered from his son-in-law who visited the Canberra Observatory while it was still at Dickson. Robertson had been at Sydney Observatory from the early 1940's. I joined the NSW BAA, and went to some meetings, still held at the Observatory. In mid-1974 I was offered a job at ANU, and left Sydney. Soon after arriving in Canberra I joined the CAS, which at that time had similarities to its form in more recent years, meeting at the Jaeger Building, and going on graze expeditions. But all that is another story. It is a curiosity of time in one's memory, that although I have been a member of the CAS for about twice the period I was a member of the SAA/NSW Society, the shorter span of years, being in childhood and youth, seems more busy and eventful than the far longer time in Canberra. The plateau of adult life foreshortens perspective, while the endless days of youth stretch out to the horizon. |
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