Issue 608: Project BCH Lives

What’s up this month, muchachos? What’s goin’ down at Chaos Manor South? Well, I thought I’d get out and “do” one of the late-summer chapters from The Urban Astronomer’s Guide, maybe one of my favorites, “The Friendly Stars.” Yeah…no.  I’ve revisited that one more than once in the years since the book was published. What then? Howsabout a chapter from somebody else’s observing book? One far more famous than my scribblings?

Set the WABAC machine for a decade ago. In 2014, your just-retired Uncle had finally wrapped up the vaunted Herschel Project and was looking for something to replace it. I thought that might be what I initially called “The Burnham Project,” and later “The BCH Project.” What I planned to do was observe all the objects in Robert Burnham Junior’s justly famous Burnham’s Celestial Handbook.

Well, not quite all of them. There are thousands of bright stars, variable stars, and double and multiple stars in the Handbook if you include the object lists that accompany each constellation’s chapter. A huge number of mostly pedestrian-looking stars would be a bit much, I reckoned, and pared things down, but even the resulting 800 objects began to seem to be that daunting “too much.” So, I thought I’d confine myself to the DSOs Burnham details in the body of each chapter in his “Descriptive Notes.”

That’s what I thought I was gonna do, anyway. Unfortunately, The BCH Project died on the vine. Why? The reasons I gave myself, including that I didn’t feel a “connection” with Burnham, weren’t really the problem. The problem was after three years of observing the Herschel objects like a madman, everything else seemed like small potatoes. Or, maybe even moreso, that I wasn’t quite ready to let the Herschel Project go.

What I really wanted was to relive the years of the Herschel Project. In 2014, my life was changing, and I sure did miss the go-go days of The Project—jumping in the 4Runner and heading for the Chiefland Astronomy Village (and Cedar Key) at the drop of a hat.

So, the BCH Project never did get off the ground. I did some preliminary observing for it and dropped it. I tried again, but no-go. I started looking for something else, some other big project. That failed miserably, as well. The truth, Unk eventually admitted? The Herschel Project was the big observing project of a lifetime, and there was no replacing it.

Today, my perspective is decidedly different. I don’t like to drive the Interstates anymore, and even if I did, there’s no bringing back the Chiefland of a decade or two ago. Latter-day Unk likes relaxed observing, both with telescopes and cameras, in the comforting surroundings of the backyard of the (new) Chaos Manor South. So, as I was wondering what to write about, I got to thinking about the BCH Project again…

The more I thunk, the more fun it sounded, and the more I came to believe I was awful misguided saying I felt no connection to Burnham and his Handbook. Just looking at the covers of the three volumes took me back to the early 1980s when I got my first copies from the old Astronomy Book Club. Between their covers were countless marvels and mysteries I had yet to visit. The deep sky was still relatively new to me, and I turned to its depths with a will. Now, the Handbook is delicious nostalgia, but not just that. Every time I read one of Bob’s DSO descriptions, he teaches me something.

So, the plan was… the plan was…  The BCH Project will be back—in the informal style that suits your now-aged Uncle. No time limits, no object quotas, no rules. It will be simple: When I want to, I will visit one of Burnham’s constellations. I’ll observe his objects visually with one of my instruments and image the wonders in my simple fashion.

Other than “informal,” what’s different from my initial go at Burnham? My decision the first time out to limit myself to just the Descriptive Notes objects won’t do. Some constellations, like Hercules, only describe one or two objects. So, in addition to the Descriptive Notes fuzzies, I’d also observe the choicer deep sky objects in each constellation’s accompanying list. 

Simple. Neat. No trouble at all (I hope). If there are objects in the list I don’t think will look worth a flip (like teeny-tiny planetary nebulae), I’ll skip ‘em:  NO RULES. I am now calling this series “Project BCH,” to distinguish it from the earlier attempts. I swear I will actually DO IT this time, y’all!

Up first? Everybody’s favorite hero and demigod, great Hercules. The night I took the images (with my SeeStar, Suzie) was relatively good. Hazy, sure, but mostly clear. Then came an intermission due to clouds while we waited for Hurricane Helene to pass by well to our East. That brought a spell of clear weather. Even one night (barely) good enough to impel your lazy old Unk to get his 10-inch Dobsonian, Zelda, into the backyard.

What was notable about that night? Other than the heavy dew? For one thing, I found I can still wrassle the Zhumell Dob into the back forty without much trouble. Oh, it’s not something I’d want to do every day, but I can still do it. What’s really notable is how I sent Miss Z to her targets:  with a cell phone app called “AstroHopper.” More about that next month (maybe); for now, all I'll say is it worked amazingly well, placing anything I asked for in the field of a 70-degree 25mm eyepiece.

Anyhoo, here we go (as above, I skipped the teeny tiny objects in Burnham's’ list) ...

M13

What could I possibly say about this globular star cluster that Bob Burnham didn’t say eloquently in the 15 pages he devoted to the Great Glob?  Not much, muchachos, not much. While much of the science (though not all) Bob gives us is now badly dated, that is OK. The historical background makes reading Burnham’s Descriptive Notes more than worthwhile; it is a joy.

Unk? I did not take a separate image of Messier 13 on this night. After all, I devoted a blog entry to “My Yearly M13” not long back. Old Globbie did photobomb my shot of NGC 6207 and I figgered that was enough. He was looking good, though, showing colors in his stars and considerable resolution in a mere 15 minutes of exposure.

In the eyepiece? Well, it was what it was. Obviously, the 10-inch showed considerable resolution even at 50x. The sky background with the humidity spiking ever higher was gray, however, even at higher magnifications and didn’t make for an overly satisfying view. Yeah, it was what it was, but I have seen far worse.

NGC 6207

In the 10-inch, even on what was turning into what Unk calls "a pretty punk night," the Great Globular wasn't a problem. But NGC 6207 was—a little bit, anyhow.  Ain’t run this one down, yet? It’s a little magnitude 11.65 SA galaxy less than half a degree from M13. Ain’t much to it:  bright core and a little elongated fuzz around that core. The main/only attraction is that it’s close to M13 and in the field with it in a wide field eyepiece under good conditions in a medium-sized scope. The saving grace here is the galaxy is small enough—2’30”—that its light is not badly spread out and it’s fairly “bright” visually.

Well, these weren’t good conditions by any stretch of the imagination. It took about 190x with an 8mm TeleVue Ethos to convince me I was even seeing 6207 on a worsening night (I was now having the fogged eyepiece blues). I saw it, though, if not quite in the field with the Great One.  Suze had no trouble with it whatsoever, even lending the little sprite some form and substance.

What did Burnham say about it? Nuttin’ Honey. NGC 6207 only appears in Hercules' “List of Star Clusters, Nebulae, and Galaxies.” As above, only two deep sky objects, M13 and M92, get Descriptive Notes. And yet, he goes on for 18 pages about what most of us modern observers would deem nondescript stars.  That is not so much a failing as it is just witness to the fact that Burnham’s book is from the amateur astronomy of another age.

M92

As I have often said, M92 ain’t, as some claim, a rival for M13. Even if it were in a constellation where the spotlight wasn’t stolen by an M13, it wouldn’t be top of the pops glob-wise. Let’s face it. It is more like an M30 than an M2, much less an M5. Which doesn’t mean it isn’t good. As Burnham notes, it shows resolution in fairly small telescopes—I’ve seen stars in it with fair ease with my 3-inch APO refractor at high power. It’s considerably looser in structure than brighter M13, making it easier to break into teeny-weeny stars.

Which Miss Zelda did this evening without complaint (I'd imaged M92 with Suzie not long ago, so we skipped this one). Not that it looked that great visually. As did M13, it appeared badly washed out in the eyepiece. But you take what you can get, campers. I was shocked—shocked, I tell you—to see how low ol’ Herc has gotten by mid-evening. By 9:30 local, M13 was barely 30 degrees above the horizon. If you want a last look at the Hero’s wonders, best get on it.

NGC 6229

Did you know there’s another fairly easy globular star cluster in Hercules? There is, little (2.0’) NGC 6229, one of the objects discovered by the sainted Sir William Herschel. This magnitude 9.86 star-clump lies about 11 degrees north of M13. I said “fairly easy,” and the emphasis is definitely on the “fairly.”

The small size of the cluster is both a blessing and a curse. As with NGC 6207, it does keep it reasonably bright, but it’s small enough and still dim enough to be passed over if you don’t really pay attention to what’s in your field. 150x is probably the magnification to begin with. As many observers have noted, what this glob looks like visually is a small, round planetary nebula.

Visually for me on this night? I was purty happy just to see it as that “planetary nebula.” I have achieved resolution of 6229 from good sites under steady seeing, but there wasn’t a prayer of that on this evening. The Suze? As usual, she impressed, not only resolving some of the little guy’s stars, but even showin’ some color in them.

Hercules Galaxy Cluster Abell 2151 and NGC 6045A

I reluctantly passed NGC 6210 by. This wasn’t the night for the tiny Turtle Nebula. Suze doesn’t have enough focal length to show much there other than a fuzz-spot. Oh, I could have applied high magnification to the reptile with Zelda, but, strangely, on this very humid evening the seeing was poor; usually it’s the opposite. Onward to one last object, then. One I considered impossible all the way up until the 1990s, the distant Hercules Galaxy Cluster, which lies some 500 million light years from the Third Stone from the Sun.

The word on this object for amateur astronomers in the 60s – 70s? Burnham does a good job of summing it up with his caption for a 200-inch Hale Reflector picture of the (unnamed) cluster in the book: “DISTANT FIELD OF GALAXIES in HERCULES. A very remote group of galaxies, showing a variety of types in a single photograph.”

Certainly, by the 1990s, I’d seen members of Abell 2151 visually with modern telescopes and eyepieces, and I’d imaged many, many of its members with my old C11, Big Bertha, and my Mallincam Xtreme. But bring home the Hercules Cluster with a 2-inch f/5 telescope? Nah. “That’s just too much for you, ain’t it, Suzie?” She laughed.

You’ll find The Hercules Cluster to the west of the main part of the constellation and the stick figure. It’s near the border with Serpens Caput. I wasn’t sure the SeeStar Atlas includes the Abell clusters, so I searched on the most prominent member, NGC 6045A. Suze slewed that-a-way and began taking her 10-second integrations. Amazingly, 6045 was visible almost immediately, and more members began to pop in as the exposure progressed. Alas, by the time I’d got 21 minutes, the cluster was low and in the limbs of a neighbor’s tree.

That final result? It won’t put your eyes out, but if you zoom in a bit, Suzie’s frame shows a crazy number of wee galaxies. 6045A's wide open barred-spiral shape is even evident. Staring at the unprocessed jpg that Suze sent to my phone, it’s fair to say this old hillbilly’s jaw dropped, nearly to the floor. The freaking Hercules Cluster? With this tiny scope? Man the times they are a-changin’.

Nota Bene:  I did try to have a look at the Hercules Cluster with Zelda, but we saw exactly nothing of it that I'd swear to. I thought maybe I glimpsed one or two fuzzballs, but that was likely good, old averted imagination.

And that was it, muchachos. It was miserably damp by this time. Luckily, my phone had been showing Zelda the way to targets because the Rigel Quickfinder and the 50mm RACI finder were completely dewed over (and I wasn’t in the mood to hunt up a dew-zapper gun and a battery). It was time for cold 807s and TV with the felines. Wisely, I didn’t even try to get Zelda back inside; that would wait for the morning…I was pretty sure disaster would have resulted if I’d try to get that big OTA into the sunroom in the middle of the night (well 10pm, anyhow). I covered Z, and I called it a night. 

Next Time:  AstroHopper.