by Jay Reynolds Freeman
My observing vacation on the big island of Hawaii was a complete success. I pushed my long-term survey of the deep-sky objects in Burnham's Celestial Handbook to 60 degrees south declination, and a little beyond, in the range of right ascension from about 09:30 to about 23:30. I logged over 600 observations, of which over 400 were first-time observations of southern objects I had never seen before. The others were two-thirds Messier objects, and beyond that mostly repeat looks at some of the new, southern stuff.
Besides the obvious advantage of Mauna Kea's clear, dark, southerly location, and the excellent support for amateurs provided by the Onizuka Visitor Center, several things contributed to my good fortune:
I have been trying to think of some philosophical way of summing up the entire voyage. It occurred to me more than once, that most normal people would think me crazy to spend a vacation the way I did, especially in Hawaii. I joked before leaving, about returning bleached pale from lack of sun, with a touch of frostbite, but that humor was very nearly the truth. I am tolerably traveled in the lower forty-eight states, but the only other nation I have ever visited is Canada. Many people with that history would have set their travel priorities differently. It used to be common to do some kind of grand tour, seeing those parts of what was considered to be the civilized world, that you hadn't already visited.
I did do a grand tour, but not of the civilized world. I toured something much grander. The northern Milky Way has been familiar since childhood, but now I have seen the full circle, from where it vanishes beyond the California horizon in Puppis and Vela, to where it emerges again, climbing out of Ara into Scorpius. I have been a science fiction fan since I could read, so I cannot help but think of the title of one Heinlein juvenile, Citizen of the Galaxy. My voyage was vicarious, while that of Heinlein's character was not. Nevertheless, that title suggests how I feel about my experience.
The only other words I offer those of you who are contemplating a similar project are, "Do it!" I will close by once again giving thanks to the staff and volunteers at the Onizuka Visitor Center, and to several astronomically oriented friends in the Hawaiian islands, for making my travels easier, more interesting, and more pleasant. I hope to see you all again some time soon.
Jay Reynolds Freeman
Palo Alto, California
June 13, 2000