Just to add insult to injury, the skies were clear and bright for long periods last night, acceptable for observing but, alas, my pass from SWMBO had expired.
Anyway, here's a big thanks to Stupendous Man for spreading the word about my interest in such matters.
Of course, there's no prize for guessing the true identity of Stupendous Man. Let's just say that it's not me.
Well, the forecast was half-correct...
It was cloudy all night and it's still like that now, so the Quadrantid observing session was indeed scuppered as predicted.
Sadly, the predicted snow and low temperatures didn't happen, we got intermittent showers instead, so there'll be no walking in the white stuff this weekend. Looks like we'll have to go to the Snowdome instead.
Preparations have been made and permission to view the shower has been granted by my better half, but it looks like it'll be scuppered by the weather. The forecast for here is for overcast skies and snow, it's 8/8 cloud cover right now so it doesn't bode well for the early morning.
For those lucky enough to get clear skies, the show should be good, with a short peak (<2 hours) of maximum activity around 06:40, when rates should hit over 100/hour.
Where to look? Well, the meteor trails appear to radiate from the "obsolete" constellation of Quadrans Muralis, so look a fair number of degrees away from there. My favoured place to aim the camera at would be the Plough, or whatever you prefer to call it, as it's easily framed and difficult to miss. Others would, no doubt, disagree. Here's a link to a helpful chart and here's a link to a NASA Vodcast. Of course, it'll be a good shower to just watch the good old-fashioned way, without the hassle of demisting/defrosting the camera, keeping the batteries warm and cursing the low-flying planes circling around EMA.
So, what's needed for observing this shower?
Well, you'll need to be properly insulated. Plenty of warm layers, and some spares, it gets damned cold at night this time of the year if you're in this neck of the woods (52 degrees North). Fur-lined boots are brilliant if it's frosty, and if you're mad like me, sticking your booted feet in a cardboard box can keep a breeze off your feet as well as providing insulation from the ground. A comfy chair's great for sitting, but I've managed to get myself frozen to mine a few times so be careful when you stand up after a long frosty rest, you'll feel like an eejut walking around with a deckchair stuck on your back.
I would advise taking hot drinks, or a means to make them (I take the Jetboil and supplies so that I can enjoy the luxury of a fresh cuppa). If you're partial to snacks, be aware that things like chocolate will melt in your pocket, or freeze to the consistency of a dinner-plate if you leave then out in the cold.
As for camera settings, well, aperture is everything, just shoot wide-open, in RAW format if possible. There's no point in going for long exposures if the target is only in field for a second or so. Besides, longer exposures mean longer star-trails, unless you're using a tracking mount. Go for a wider lens rather than a tele, so that you can frame a familiar area of the sky. A tripod is more-or-less mandatory, and a remote release is more useful than using a self-timer. Keep an eye on the effect that the cold is having on your camera, demisting and defrosting tends to be needed more often than you think, and condensation on the inner elements of the optics can be a pain to deal with. One useful tip - manually focus your lens on infinity and paint a couple of alignment marks on it before you go out into the dark. Focusing in the dark can be a nightmare, especially with autofocus lenses that focus beyond infinity.
One last thing: If you're dependent on your car, FFS keep your de-icer with you. It's no fun being frozen out of your car so early in the morning with a long walk home through the snow while carrying your gear. It's even worse when you can see the de-icer through the frozen window, just lying there taking the p155 out of you.
Sounds like fun, eh? Duncan's tried it, have a shufty at this.
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Stop Press! I've just realised that I've missed something... a planisphere is another useful bit of kit, they're available cheap from Amazon and the like. Be sure to get one that's suited to your latitude.
The Thursday night / Friday morning skies did indeed stay clear, so a session watching the Geminids was on. The car was de-iced, packed and soon I was at the chosen venue. The temperature had dropped to -2 by then, so I donned a fair amount of insulation. There's something weird about dressing like the Michelin Man, complete with buff and balaclava, then walking through a very posh neighbourhood at 11:30 p.m. while carrying a small pack and a reclining chair. It certainly earned me a more than fleeting glance from a couple of car-cops.
I was set up within 20 minutes and soon I was snapping away with the camera. Sitting back while the D50 did its work, I could see that catching these meteors on camera was going to be difficult. There was no shortage of them, indeed for some periods they were showing at a rate of about 50 per hour within my field of view. The problem was that most of them were too fast and they weren't leaving bright trails like the Perseids tend to. I know that I caught at least 50 of them on camera, but, aside from one that left a bright trail, no amount of post-processing of the raw "NEF" files was going to bring out enough detail to make satisfactory images.
I stayed until 02:30, by which time the temperature had dropped to -6 and the camera was frosting up too much to take decent pics (note to self: buy a lens heater-band).
So, here are a few of the resulting images, feel free to mouseover for the annotated versions. There's plenty of room for improvement, I reckon.
Orion and neighbours
Faint trail in Ursa Major (at the top left)
One of the finest, and probably the most reliable, of the major annual showers presently observable. This year, the waxing crescent Moon will set by mid-evening across the globe on December 14 (the actual moonset timing is progressively later the further south you are), giving mostly dark skies for all observers, especially those in the northern hemisphere. The Geminid radiant culminates around 2h local time, but well north of the equator it rises around sunset, and is at a usable elevation from the local evening hours onwards, while in the southern hemisphere, the radiant appears only around local midnight or so. Even from more southerly sites, this is a splendid stream of often bright, medium-speed meteors, a rewarding sight for all watchers, whatever method they employ.Here's some good advice from NASA for those hardy souls who intend to venture forth to see the lightshow:
After some neat negotiating with Chris, I was allowed out to play with the camera on Saturday night/Sunday morning. As previously stated, it was my intent to get some pics of the Orionid meteors and to test some kit while I was at it.
I drove for some miles to find a quiet spot a good distance from sources of urban light pollution, and at about 11:00p.m. started to set up the camera on the new Velbon tripod. The sky was clear and the stars were beginning to appear brighter as the Moon disappeared over the western horizon. Already there were meteors showing - mostly faint and fast, but there were a couple of slower bright fireballs while I was setting up.
Ten minutes later and we were in business - camera acclimatised to the cold and set up to take RAWs on the "bulb" setting, triggered with the remote unit... me wrapped in winter-walking clothes and sat on a low chair... owls, foxes and farm dogs making a racket in the distance all around. I sat alone in the dark and watched the skies, clicking the remote and savouring the solitude.
I had rattled off about 50 shots when conditions changed. The temperature dropped from +6C to +1C in 20 minutes and everything became covered in condensation, as a knee-high mist formed all around. For the next couple of hours I was engaged in a losing battle to keep the camera lens clear and keep myself warm. Sitting in the low chair was a no-no, as the layer of mist was just too cold. The sky was getting clearer, but the images were getting worse.
At 3:00a.m. I gave up and headed home to dry out the kit and to warm up in front of the fire.
On Sunday afternoon I got around to having a look at the pics and wasn't surprised to find that a large number of them were unusable due to problems with lens condensation. I had managed to nab a couple of faint meteor trails on half-decent exposures, but the best trails were on bad pics which I've now binned. I managed to salvage about 25 images, of which three aren't too bad.
Apart from the problems caused by the conditions, all of the kit worked well. The remote unit never missed a beat, and the home-made remote-signal reflector worked a treat. The new tripod was a pleasure to use and a doddle to carry, being so small and light. The angled viewfinder saved me having to bend and twist into all sorts of unnatural poses, so that was another plus.
So, all in all it wasn't a complete disaster. Not many usable pics, but fun night out and a fair test of kit in adverse conditions.
Mars rises above the glow of Leicester, with a faint meteor trail above.
The view eastwards:
The Pleiades above Taurus, with Orion not yet fully risen above the trees.
