Canberra
Astronomical Society

<< - Archive - >>

Southern Cross - December 2002

• THE CEDUNA ECLIPSE - A DAY of double twilight by Albert Brakel
• Totalled At Lyndhurst!!! by Bruce Aldam, Rob Scott, Paul, and Jenni Kay
• The "damned near-run thing" eclipse at Ceduna by John Morland

THE CEDUNA ECLIPSE - A DAY of double twilight

Albert Brakel

This is a somewhat hurriedly written report on the 4 December South Australian total solar eclipse, to get something into this issue of Southern Cross before the printing deadline. While Dave Herald was successful west of Woomera, and Jenni Kay saw it at Lyndhurst (normal population about a dozen or so I believe), most CAS members who travelled to the eclipse went to Ceduna, a more salubrious location by the sea where John Morland had reserved motel accommodation three years in advance. There were 56 people in our Ceduna group, including some non-CAS members.

The road to Ceduna was long (I lost count of all the mobile homes I had to overtake), so getting to there was like arriving in an oasis. Ceduna is the only town between Port Augusta and Norseman (WA) worthy of the title. Apparently the tourist authorities were determined that if the eclipse was clouded out the tourist masses would still have thought it worthwhile to come to Ceduna for the 2-day 'Solar-bration'. So they arranged rock bands in the main street, parties on the foreshore, several aerobatic displays, fireworks, and cordoned off the CBD from cars. I've never seen so much razzamatazz at an eclipse.

The day before the eclipse was cloudy, and the members of the contingent who had arrived early had already sussed out likely places to observe from, depending on what the weather did.

We woke up on eclipse day to find the sky still cloudy, and despite the JMorland prediction "don't worry about 80% cloud cover in mid-morning, it'll burn off" there was still much more cloud than gaps by late afternoon. There was also a cold blustery wind at the foreshore. We did notice that the clouds were breaking up somewhat as they moved inland, especially north of the centreline, so most of the CAS group dispersed to look at various sites about 12 km to the NE. The cloud prospects seemed the same everywhere, and as it was obviously going to be a lottery, I chose a site on the centreline with the best view, where 1-2 dozen others already were, and set up my 20 cm C8. As I have been to several previous eclipses, I had decided to spend the short time available examining the prominences at higher magnification than I had ever been able to do before.

By first contact, the gaps were greater than the narrow layers of cloud, and still improving. Most of the view during the advancing partial phase was unobscured. Then a couple of minutes before the 7:40 pm totality, a finger of cloud got in the way, bringing back memories of Hawaii in 1991. Some people got in their cars and raced down the road to where they thought it would be clear. For me to do the same at that late stage would have meant abandoning the telescope and relying on binoculars, so I decided to stay put, expecting to be able to see prominences through thin cloud, and anyway, the cloud was moving to the right and would probably get out of the way. It did!

And what a view I got! Numerous prominences all the way around the Sun, including two especially big ones, one of them mushroom-shaped. I'll never forget the astounding sight.

All the 'first-timers' I met were deeply moved and excited by the experience, as they always are. They now understand why eclipse junkies go trekking around the world, and some may join the treks to far-away places in future.

As the partially eclipsed Sun sank into the clouds on the horizon soon after, someone broke open some champagne, and a happy couple from Denmark produced a bottle of Danish schnapps. Then it was back to one of the motels, for a poolside reunion of the CAS group, to exchange reminiscences.

So far, I haven't heard of any member of our group who missed out on totality. Kim and Vince went to a bayside location just north of town and were incredibly lucky to have had the clouds part just in time for totality. The same was true for most of the 8000 people gathered on the Ceduna foreshore. However, those at Pinky Point on the nearby Thevenard peninsula remained clouded out.

Totalled At Lyndhurst!!!

Bruce Aldam, Rob Scott, Paul, and Jenni Kay

December 4, 2002.

Location: next rise north of the Ochre Cliffs at Lyndhurst, SA.

Jenni Kay: Set up with 7x50 mm binoculars, and solar filter, the excitement which had been building up exploded as I watched the last sliver of the Sun crescent disappear behind the Moon. I quickly whipped off the filter to see the awesome sight of totality. Around the dark disc of the Moon was a beautiful white, flimsy veil with white streamers (being the corona.) With only seconds to spare, I glanced away from the binocs, to witness the sight with the naked eye. The horizon and ground before me was darkened, as so the sky, and the eclipsed Sun loomed low in the sky, large, and breathtaking. It could have been a spaceship out of Star Wars, hovering in the sky waiting to land or fly off. It could easily have been an angry Sun God from ancient times, glaring down on its people, thrusting fear and doom into their hearts. For me, it was one of the most spectacular sights I will ever witness and is now deeply engraved on my memory for evermore.

Back to the binocs, and just in time to see the flash of the "diamond ring" and "Baily's Beads" (they could have been seen in the reverse order, as I was so overcome to actually catch both, and can't remember which came first).

What an event! What an incredible sight to watch! There were cheers all around from the many other spectators, and apart from our little group of four, the others there were not amateur astronomers at all. They were a mix of kids, teenagers, mums and dads, oldies, and the young at heart. This was a momentous occasion where everyone came to witness a very special sky show.

There were clear skies for the entire duration, with a low, clear horizon. The four of us set up with Bruce and me watching with binoculars and solar filters, Rob with his solar filter and digital video camera, and Paul taking images with his digital camera. Rob captured some incredible images, especially of totality, and there were orders for copies coming from all directions. Prior to first contact, there was a warm breeze blowing. Towards totality there was a noticeable drop in temperature, lasting through totality and a little after, only to notice the temperature rise again later. Didn't notice any effect on birds or wild fauna, only the humans.

The "damned near-run thing" eclipse at Ceduna

John Morland

I think I now realise how the First Duke of Wellington might have felt when he described his victory after the Battle of Waterloo, on 18 June 1815, as a 'damned near-run thing'.

As I mentioned in my article last month, about the 4 December eclipse, it was the riskiest eclipse that I have decided to go to, and I did not then know how true that would be. The weather was clear when we landed at Adelaide on 30 November and drove to Port Augusta that afternoon. Next day, the sky was clear with a slight haze as we drove down the Eyre Peninsular to see Port Lincoln on our scenic route to Ceduna. Later that morning we saw a bank of cirrus clouds appearing to the west. The weather at Port Lincoln and on the drive northward on the western side of the peninsular was a few scattered clouds and windy.

Arriving at Ceduna, the clouds became denser but still scattered. We saw the Sun appear between the layered and scattered clouds at 7:40 pm, the time when totality would happen, on both the afternoon of 2nd and 3rd December. Although not completely promising, it was nevertheless encouraging to see that the clouds did seem to clear late afternoon. The weather prediction for eclipse day was for clearing weather and reduced wind.

During the evening meal of 2 December, I informed the waitress at the motel's restaurant that it is lucky that South Australia has daylight saving time at the time of the eclipse, otherwise the Sun would have set by 7:40 pm and we would not be able to see the eclipse! As proof of this, Queensland (which is not on daylight saving time) misses out, except for the tiny bit around Cameron corner. The penny did not drop and, afterwards, I explained her my little joke.

On the morning of the 4th, I rose early to see whether I could spot the Moon in my binoculars 14 hours before New Moon and thus equal the record set a few years ago. Where the Moon was, laid a heavy black cloud - so much for my attempt to closely match the record of seeing the old Moon before the new Moon. The sky was increasingly heavily clouded and the wind was becoming quite blowy. At the foreshore, it was grey with a constant howling wind; those people who staked out their claims were in their parkas! I never knew that Ceduna in December could be so cold! So much for weather prediction and not a good sign for the eclipse.

By mid-morning it was close to 100% overcast and blowing strongly (37 km/hr) at the Ceduna foreshore. Occasionally there where tantalizing signs that it wanted to clear but the clouds were persistent. At 2 pm the group had a meeting and decided to split up.

Several went out 30 km inland, while others decided for the foreshore option. Inland, it appeared that the bank of clouds being blown in from the shore were spread thinner towards the northern limit. My small group decided on a site that was halfway between the centerline and the northern limit, as this site appeared to be at the northern edge of the banks of the drifting clouds. The wind was still fresh but less than on the coast. We set up our equipment and waited for the big event.

Then the cloudbank appeared to drift northwards! Just before first contact the Sun drifted and disappeared behind a dark one. Although it was still behind the cloud, out of sight at time of first contact, the Sun reappeared just in time for us to see the barely visible "nick" at 7 o'clock on the Sun's disc - "First contact" I yelled. The Moon's relentless encroaching over the Sun's disc had started. Where 2nd contact was to happen a sunspot was visible, I said to the others that a prominence might be there. During the partial phases, the clouds more or less behaved themselves until shortly before totality.

To our horror, shortly before totality,the thin crescent Sun disappeared behind a large black finger shaped cloud - Hawaii all over again! A few moments later the very thin crescent reappeared between two clouds and then disappeared again! We seriously thought of making a run for it - our cars were ready.

Just using my sunglasses, I then could just see where the tiny remnant of the Sun was, saw the Baily's beads extinguishing one after another, judged the speed of the cloud and yelled "it's going to make it!" The short ultra- thin crescent reappeared in the blue sky amongst an eerie alien light, but another dark cloud was barrelling towards it! I then mentally screamed for the Moon to do its stuff, now! Another agonizing wait, the Baily's beads extinguishing one after another as the crescent shrank towards 1 o'clock on the Sun's disc; it seemed to take forever, then suddenly it happened - the diamond ring with the corona instantly appeared with an unbelievably rich thin indigo crescent stretching from 11 o'clock to 3 o'clock - the Sun's chromosphere - the next ball of gas out from the photosphere. What a sight! The whole thing appeared huge and just hung there low over the Australian bush. At last an eclipse in Australia - we have long waited for this!

It was the chromosphere, not the corona, which I wanted mainly to observe in the 30-odd seconds I had. Through my 20x80 binoculars I could see prominences appearing at 1 o'clock, 3 o'clock, then 4 o'clock. As we were north of the centerline, the tiny Moon (barely covering the Sun) did not cover the thin chromosphere. As the Moon continued to drift across, the chromosphere seemed to "rotate" around the Moon uncovering prominence after prominence. A quick look at the corona - it was spread out pretty well evenly, typical of solar maximum. The corona was similar to the eclipse in Zambia but this time less intense in the inner part and appeared greener. A bit of cloud slightly obscured the outer left of the corona - never mind it was not important, it missed the main attraction. At the same time I was banging a few photos through Graham Tapper's 1000 mm Maksutov telephoto and also, with another camera, through a 50 mm lens.

The chromosphere continued to "rotate" around the Moon; prominences then appeared at 6 o'clock then 8 o'clock. The chromosphere just about stretched to 9 o'clock when a brilliant point appeared at 7 o'clock, the second diamond ring - again it just hung there, a few degrees above the Australian bush. Wow, what a show!

Though it was a short eclipse, it was rich in colour, incredibly intense, breathtaking in its action. These short eclipses are entirely different from the more leisurely 3-or-more-minute ones, and have their unique style shall we say.

As arranged we all met at 9 pm at the East West Motel pool to sink many bottles of champagne and see the fireworks that Ceduna put on for the eclipse. As all the eclipse travellers returned with huge grins on their faces and recounted their views and experiences of the eclipse, I felt a huge weight lift of my shoulders and felt truly humbled. Despite the heavy clouds and the many different sites chosen, not one missed totality completely. We all saw it!!

I felt the first Duke of Wellington's words describing the victory of the battle of Waterloo as a "damn near-run thing" were quite appropriate for this eclipse.