Editorial: A Fly-By for Neil

By Ed Downs

Regular readers of In Flight USA may have picked up on the fact that editorial opinions and the fun of connecting flying with space sciences come from the unsettled mind of a single person, this writer. It was planned to follow our standard two-topic format in September. But history intervened to change those plans. A remarkable person, test pilot and astronaut passed away, and those who remember when this country was proud of its scientific accomplishments took a moment to reflect. Neil Armstrong is gone. The passing of this great American connects opinion, feelings, flying and science together in a way that warrants that only one story should be written this time. Please know that the staff of In Flight USA, plus every aviator and astronomer I know extends their most heart felt sympathies and condolences to Neil’s family and friends, for their loss is unspeakable. Indeed, God speed, Neil.

This writer was in his hotel room after a long day of teaching a Flight Instructor Refresher Clinic, tired and sore from standing for more than 10 hours. But the evening was not over. Research was needed to confirm some facts and numbers before continuing with this month Skies to Stars column. With a cross country planned to the Moon, it was time to fire up the computer, unfurl a detailed Moon map, and consider how I would locate my destination, the Apollo 11 landing site. The quest for data clarification started with a search engine entry regarding Apollo 11 technical information, but I was stopped cold in my tracks. Almost every search link connected to some comment about the passing of Neil Armstrong, commander of Apollo 11 and the first man to set foot on the moon. This was the first I had heard of this news. I fired up the TV and confirmed that a person I had never met, but considered a friend and mentor, was gone. An era was at an end, like so many “eras” of scientific adventure and courage that have come to an end in recent times.

It was perhaps fitting that my sad discovery took place while planning a telescope adventure for the Skies to Stars column. But new meaning had now been assigned. The intent had been to discus our nearest celestial neighbor, the Moon, and then undertake a telescope adventure to visit this familiar sight. The planned “flight” would now be much more than a sight seeing trip, it would be a low fly-by over the Apollo 11 landing site, to acknowledge the achievements of Neil and the historic figures of America’s former moon program. Readers are invited to join in on this trip, to envision that you are seeing what is being described. Take a moment to salute astronauts Neil Armstrong, Buzz Aldrin and Michael Collins with me as we make a low fly-by of the Moon.

By now you may be wondering what is meant by a “fly-by” of the Apollo 11 landing site. Certainly, this is not a “real” flight. But, in practical sense it is real, using a high quality astronomical telescope. The reflector telescope used for this flight does much more than simply “magnify” an object being viewed. Reflector technology was invented in 1668 by famed British scientist and physicist, Isaac Newton. Yes, this is the “apple on the head” gent of children’s tales, who in real life co-invented calculus and many other mathematical principles that drove us crazy in high school.  His telescope design consists of a finely polished mirror at the base of the telescope that collects and concentrates light, the secret of all celestial viewing. That concentrated light is then sent forward to the entry end of the telescope, where it encounters a secondary mirror that turns the light 90 degrees so that it is aimed at an eyepiece mounted to the exterior of the telescope. It is the eyepiece, which can be quickly changed from one magnifying power to another, that magnifies the highly concentrated light into a clear image that can be viewed directly, electronically sent to a computer, or into the lens of a camera. Referred to as a “Newtonian” telescope, this basic technology has been used in virtually all telescopes that have made some of our greatest discoveries.

Let’s get ready for the trip. This writer’s Orion telescope has a 12-inch reflecting mirror, a good size for amateur viewing. Set up and “pre-flight” is important. Our scope is carefully positioned away from bright lights and in an area free of major light pollution common in urban environments. A few simple adjustments, known as “culminating” precisely aligns the primary and secondary mirrors. For this trip, a five-millimeter eyepiece will be used. A simple formula is applied that divides the length of the telescope (1,500 millimeters) by the length of the eyepiece to determine the magnifying power that results – in this case 300.

Let’s put this in terms of a fly-by.  The Moon does not “circle” the earth; it orbits in an elliptical pattern, with a perigee of 221,600 miles and an apogee of 252,500 miles. Have you ever looked up and thought “boy, the moon really looks big and bright tonight?” You were probably seeing the Moon at its closest, as the eye will pick up that 15,000 mile difference. If you average that difference out, and then divide it by the power of the telescope, you get a number close to 800. Our telescope will not just magnify the Moon’s image; it will move our view to within 800 miles of the surface of the Moon. That will be our fly-by altitude on this trip. Certainly too high to see the lander, but absolutely close enough to see the details of craters, volcanoes, mountains and flat lands that were seen by Neil and Buzz while on final approach. Topographical features used to identify the Apollo 11 landing sight will be clearly visible.

Next, our trip needs a high-quality, high-resolution Moon map that identifies the target. This writer chose one published by Sky and Telescope magazine, but there are others. Quality is important as our trip is pure pilotage, we will need to recognized geographic patterns and specific crater locations. Apollo 11’s landing site was almost smack on the equator of the moon, in the western hemisphere. If just looking at the Moon, this would be on the right hand side. The landing was targeted for the southern region of the Mare Tranquillitatis (Sea of Tranquility), which lays on, and slightly above, the equator. Above Tranquility is Mare Serenitatis (Sea of Serenity) and below Tranquility is the much smaller Mare Nectaris (Sea of Nectar). Of course, these are not real seas, but massive areas that have been flooded by lava millions of years ago, causing the surface to “melt” into a relatively flat plain. Early observers interpreted these as being oceans. The three seas link together in a vertical pattern that makes them one of the first checkpoints we will look for. This is remarkably similar to identifying the multitude of dry lakes in the high deserts of our western U.S. Our magnification will start low to aid in finding large objects, like the seas, and then increase as we look for specific craters and mountainous outcroppings. A key checkpoint will be three craters, Theophilus, Cryillus and Catharina, which appear to be linked together, much like the top three rings of the Olympic Game’s logo. As we look closer, the landing sight is several hundred miles north of these craters where mountainous outcroppings join Tranquility and Nectar. Yes, there are plenty of checkpoints, all of which were memorized by Neil and Buzz; to be called out over the radio as they approached their destination. Okay, our scope is set up and flight plan charted. Let’s go.

Take-off is planned so that the Moon is almost overhead. This means we are looking through the thinnest part of Earth’s atmosphere, about 20 miles of potential distortion. A low azimuth view could result in looking through a thousand miles of air. Our maximum magnification of 300 is at the edge of good viewing limits. More than that and all you see is atmospheric distortion.

Next, we must make sure that a dimming filter is attached to the eyepiece. Remember, the light is being concentrated and the Moon is highly reflective. If unfiltered, viewing can actually be painful, like staring into a bright light bulb. Our first eyepiece equates to a distance of about 7,000 miles above the Moon’s surface and the entire Moon can be seen. One quickly notes that the image is upside down and left and right orientation can be confusing. One must spend time to become accustomed to this inverted viewing and learn to relate it to our Moon map. It does not take long to identify the three seas and we can move in for a closer look. Our next look is at an altitude of 1,600 miles above the surface and the entire moon is no longer visible. We can now see the three checkpoint craters. Regrettably, the Moon is three quarters full during our trip, meaning it is extremely bright, a condition that blanks out some surface detail. Ideally, an object close to the terminator line (day/night) is much easier to see as deep shadows give everything a three-dimensional look. It is now time to descend to our fly-by altitude of 800 miles, and sure enough, even with poor contrast, the mountains and outcroppings at the Apollo 11 landing sight are clearly visible. We are now, in real time and personally, seeing the place where the words “One small step for (a) man, one giant leap for mankind” where spoken. This writer paused, and wept, and prayed.

The fly-by to honor Neil was complete. It was a surprisingly emotional trip, both sad and angry; sad for the loss of a quite champion of the human spirit and exploration, and angry because of the contempt and disregard being shown towards scientific achievement by our political leadership. Even with the stunning success of the Curiosity Mars landing, the media only asks questions about justifying the cost and complains about the money being tossed into space. No spacecraft of any type, certainly not Apollo 11, carried a suitcase filled with millions in cash, to be forever lost to the citizens of the U.S. The work of NASA is spread throughout the economy, to thousands of vendors, service providers, universities and tens of thousands of direct and indirect employees, meaning jobs. It is not even possible to calculate the benefits of technological fallout, with the space program having been the parent of countless private businesses and technologies that we all use every day. This writer can think of no other government program that has so positively affected our economy and world leadership status in such a direct, measurable, fashion. Neil knew this, our astronaut corps knows this and the pros at NASA know this. Maybe it is time for “management” to talk to the “real workers” and get our country back on track.