Lunar Prospecting on July 31

by Jane Houston


It was nearly sunset on July 30, 1999 when we arrived at the Fremont Peak State Park border. We stopped the car at a convenient pullout on the twisty road and watched the sun set over the Pacific Ocean. Between us and that sunset vista was a 100 mile chunk of California coastal hill and valley. The shimmering orange ball looked like melting sherbet floating on a sea of whipped cream fog. We strained our eyes 'till we were sure we would see no green flash this time. We didn't.

Soon we were back on the road and within moments we arrived at our destination, the Fremont Peak Observatory. It was a long-shot to expect to view the possible vapor cloud plume from the Lunar Prospector final crash, but it was a nice night to do some mooning anyway.

We rolled open the roof, and prepared the 30 inch "Challenger" reflector for the night. It was a beautiful night despite a temperature of 52 degrees with a little wind. The Milky Way was beckoning us to take a look within her graceful silvery spiral arm. Out in front of the observatory, I set up two telescopes: my 12.5 and 6 inch reflectors. I had plenty of moon and planet projects for the evening, especially since we had a six hour wait for the "Crash". My San Francisco Amateur Astronomer pal Bill Cherrington had invited me to track down Comet C/1999 N2 (aka Comet Lynn) with him a few nights ago, but I was busy that night. Instead, he forwarded his July 22nd observing report (from Sonoma Mountain 50 miles to the north) written on the back of the CRAS notice of the comet's preliminary orbit. I tucked this notice into my Rukl Atlas, as a possible project for this evening. It became our second project - a low and bright Venus crescent had to be number one!

Next, we made an eyeball starhop from Spica up to Vindemiatrix and connected that yellow star via an imaginary line to Denebola, the bright starry butt of Leo. Comet Lynn was between these two stars. Mojo found Comet Lynn first in his Celestron 9 X 63 binoculars, using Bill's chart. Then we pointed the 12.5 incher 20 degrees above the horizon and about two degrees along the line from Denebola to Vindemiatrix. Mojo nudged the scope away from Denebola and toward a group of three stars he had seen in the binoculars. And there it was! Comet Lynn shone at an estimated mag 8, a full degree of magnification dimmer than Bill's view a week ago. A wide anc chunky fan-shaped comet. It was mighty pleasing to see a pretty comet again. We enjoyed our first view of this one! A few minutes later the moonrise began to wash out the stars. The moon rose a beautiful orangy hue, not unlike the setting sun a few short hours earlier. We kept finding Comet Lynn in the two smaller scopes until it dissappeared in the moonglow. It was 10:00 pm. We had only 5 hours to wait. We entertained ourselves by looking at open clusters in Ophiuchus thru the 30 incher and many double stars (Omicron Cygnus, Albirio, Eta Cassiopeia (the pink buddy) thru the 6 incher, to name but a few.

We peeked at our Rulk maps and internet printouts for Lunar Prospector crash site information. I checked my tape recorder and prepared my sketchpad and pencils. In the interest of full discloure, I cannot deny that we took a nap. Or maybe two. Yes. we definately took two naps. We had a long wait, after all! Our only visitors were the permanent denizens of the parkland. Animals scurring through the leaves and tall grass, some owls hooting to ech other, and some bats circling overhead. It was just the two of us, and I must admit I enjoyed the romantic setting with just my sweetheart and our assortment of telescopes!

At two o'clock our observing began in earnest. We located the south pole in the various telescopes and at various magnifications. We tried observing with filters and without them. I liked the view using the Moon filter and kept this filter on one of my two outside scopes. Mojo called out the time each minute. 2:43...2:45...2:49. Less than two minutes to go. We both were looking at the south polar region of the moon. Mojo was standing on the big ladder looking through the Challenger at 229X using a 16mm Nagler. And I was at the12.5 incher at 202X, using my 9mm Nagler. Elongated narrow oblong craters, filled with darkness stood in the way of our view to the pole. Some craters appear stacked as we viewed the curved view closer and closer to the south pole. Were those two craters Scott and Amundsen? Craters named for the great explorers of our own earthly south pole? From Clavius, we inched our way south. First to crater Moretus, then to crater Short. Then weird and wild darkness, craters I cannot identify for sure. Craters I sketched for later identification. The south pole area is peppered with both rugged and crumbling crater walls, deep depressions and snakey rilles. We got as near to the south pole as possible. We were explorers on this night. 2:51..2:51:30. I didn't see anything other than rocky lunar terrain. 2:52 am - nothing unusual was visible. It was my first time to really view the south polar area, so I don't consider it a wasted effort at all. I turned off the recorder after about 5 minutes of wishful viewing and contemplating the crash. Then I took a last look at the south pole for the night. We then turned our telescopes and our remaining attention to Jupiter and Saturn. Those two planets gave us a welcome and rewarding nitecap. At 4:05 am we headed down the 11 mile twisty road for home. It was a grand night, filled with peaceful views, anticipation, excitement, and many fond remembrances.

What a fitting tribute to another great explorer, Gene Shoemaker, it had been. Earthly and space-based telescopes, manned by amateurs and professional astronomers alike, on hand on this night to view a possible discovery. A discovery the Gene predicted years ago. All of us observers had one mission and one target in mind. To glimpse moondust through our telescopes. And to bid a final adieu to our own human lunar prospector, Gene Shoemaker. I'm sure there were thousands of eyes straining for a look at the south pole of the moon at 2:51 AM on July 31, 1999. I'm glad my two were among them.