Uncle Rod's Astro Blog

Christmas Eve has once again come to Chaos Manor South. It snuck up on your aged correspondent. Wasn’t it just yesterday that Unk celebrated his summertime birthday with a POTA activation and margaritas at El Giro’s? Enough of that. It is what it is; Christmastime is here! We’ll get to the Yuletide doings ‘round the manse in due course, but first let’s talk about the next bunch of Messiers…

Perseus and Auriga

It wasn’t just Christmas that snuck up on your Old Uncle. I belatedly realized the western reaches of Perseus the Hero are getting awful close to the Meridian by mid-evening, and that’s not a good place for picture-taking.  With no time to waste, Unk set up Miss Suzie, the ZWO smartscope, in the back forty on a clear but damp late fall evening and got to work.

Messier 76

First up of Perseus’ two Ms was the Little Dumbbell Nebula (aka, “Barbell” and “Cork”), NGC 650, a well-known if not oft-observed planetary nebula. Once again, we have an object not discovered by Chuck Messier himself, but by prolific observer Pierre Méchain (in 1780). M76 is a magnitude 10.1 planetary nebula, the corpse of a dead star, that measures 3’07” x 2’18”. And there you have the two things that account for M76’s relative lack of popularity with observers: It is small and sounds as if it will be faint.

I had intended to observe M76 visually with Zelda, the 10-inch Dob, but wimped out. What I shoulda done was haul Miss Zelda outside in late afternoon. Alas, I got distracted by other things, and it was dark before I knew it. I wasn’t about to lug her down even the few steps of the deck in anything but broad daylight, so I settled for little Tanya, my 4.5-inch f/5 rescue-scope Newtonian.

I suppose getting under dark skies with Z for a few nights at the Deep South Star Gaze got me back in the red-dot finder groove, because I had no problem getting the Little Dumbbell in the field of a 10mm Plössl (one of the two the humble eyepieces Celestron included with Miss T.). I wouldn’t say the nebula was bright without a filter, but it was doable. While some will tell you M76 is a tough Messier, it’s not. The nebula’s small size keeps its surface brightness relatively high, and adding a light pollution reduction (LPR) filter makes observing it like shooting fish in the proverbial barrel. I routinely viewed this planetary from the suburbs with my old and long-gone ETX-60 (with a filter).  

OK, so what was M76 like in The Tanya? Unfiltered at 57x with the Celestron Plössl, the nebula was a small rectangle of haze just at the limit of visibility. While dim, it was obvious the second I looked into the eyepiece. It still didn’t put my eye out when I replaced the el-cheapo ocular with a decent 6mm Orion Expanse (95x). I added an OIII filter, and, yeah, better (the OIII is the filter for most planetary nebulae). I even imagined I at least detected the streamers of gas that wrap around the central bar of M76.

I plan to move on from John Mallas and Scotty Houston to other observers as this series progresses but seeing as how I was observing with a 4-inch just like John M. (if one with a far less impressive pedigree than his big Unitron), I thought it would be appropriate to turn to The Messier Album once again.

I wondered how the Little Dumbbell looked in Mallas small-aperture scope… It looked good: “A rewarding object in Mallas’ 4-inch refractor. M76 is a miniature of the Dumbbell and is more closely described by this name than is M27 in Vulpecula when both are seen in a small telescope.” I agree the Little Dumbbell is a fascinating object in a 4-inch, but we differ on the appearance of the nebula. John mentions seeing two distinct lobes. I’ve noted this two-lobed nature in the past, in Tanya, however, the nebula was just a nebulous bar. It’s the same in the Evered Kreimer photo in the book, but Suzie’s shot does hint at the dual lobes.  

Suzie had zero trouble imaging the planetary, but I wasn’t satisfied with our results. While Astrospheric and Scope Nights had predicted clear weather for the entire night, Siri disagreed, intoning, “Clouds at mid-evening!” I thought my favorite AI girl was skipping a few gear teeth, but it turned out she was correct, as she usually is. I had less than 20 minutes on the nebula when a message popped up on the ZWO app: “Image discarded, not enough stars,” Rut-roh, I popped outside and looked up: Clouds, thick clouds, and plenty of ‘em. We got another chance the following night and accumulated 45 minutes of exposure.

Let’s face it, M76 is small for a 50mm f/5 smartscope. Nevertheless, Suze turned in a credible effort. After zooming-in via cropping the image (zooming is more practical using Suzie’s EQ mode, since you don’t have to worry as much about egg-shaped stars as you do in alt-az), the two streamers of gas are prominent, as is the nebula’s green OIII color, and even some tinges of red. Good show, girl!

Messier 34

The other Perseus M, open cluster M34 (NGC 1039), is probably a Giovanni Batista Hodierna find; he appears to have observed it from Sicily in 1654. If he did, nobody outside Sicily heard about it. What is known for sure is Charles Messier—who doesn’t seem to have known about Hodierna’s work—saw it, resolved it, and cataloged it a decade later: “A cluster of small stars, a little below the parallel γ Andromedae; in an ordinary telescope of three feet [focal length] the stars can be distinguished.”  M34 is bright at magnitude 5.8, but also spread-out at a size of 35.0’.

I gave Tanya a shot at M34, but no-go. With Christmas Eve approaching at a breakneck pace, the weathermen said the last chance I'd get to see the Spiral Cluster would be dicey at best. As darkness fell on a warm and humid evening, Tanya was dripping with dew after a mere half-hour outside. I could tell fog was creeping in and got on what I was pretty sure was the correct field post haste. Nada. Knowing I didn't have time to fool around, I dashed inside and retrieved the SkyWatcher 6-inch f/5 Dobsonian.

With a little extra aperture, M34 was visible in a 20mm Expanse (Synta-made) widefield ocular at 37x. Visible, yeah, but not what you'd call "rich." Nevertheless, I declared it a win on a night like this one. The brighter cluster stars were there, but dimmer members and the scads of background suns were absent. That lack of background stars actually made M34 stand out better. "Spiral cluster"? Maybe it's just me, but I scratch my head over that one. What I see is a medium-rich group dominated by star chains.  

John Mallas calls this “A very fine cluster,” but opines that this is an object for smaller apertures due to its large size. That is still somewhat true, but we now have richest field telescopes and widefield and ultra-widefield eyepieces. Today, this one is a standout in larger-than-4-inch scopes, too.

Suze did a fine job on this galactic cluster, but her image highlights the cluster’s “problem” in images and with larger aperture instruments under dark skies: It tends to melt into the rich background starfield.

Onward to Auriga we go. The three famous Auriga open clusters are a sentimental favorite of mine. I could occasionally coax my Old Man, W4SLJ, out of the house for a look through my Palomar Junior on long-lost 1960s nights. While he was mainly interested in seeing the Moon and planets, he did like M42, and, maybe even more, the Charioteer’s clusters. He referred to them as “The Big Three,” and always requested I point my little scope at them on winter nights. How I wish I could have shown SLJ these three wondrous star nests from the dark skies of the Deep South Star Gaze with my 10-inch telescope… Anyhow, we begin with the westernmost group.

Messier 38

Yep, yet another DSO not found by ol’ Chuck. M38 (NGC 1912) was first recorded by Hodierna on a chilly Italian evening around 1654. This cluster was forgotten or overlooked by the astronomers who followed him before being rediscovered by Guillaume LeGentil in 1749. Its specs clue you in that this is one good open cluster: magnitude 6.8 and 20.0’ across. Bright and big, but not too big.

This cluster, my second favorite among the Big Three, was a wonderful sight in Miss Zelda from the dark backwoods of Louisiana. M38 is nicknamed “The Starfish Cluster,” and it is easy to see why. While there are many dim background stars, your eyes are drawn to the chains and patterns formed by the cluster’s brightest suns. They seem to suggest yes, a starfish—or maybe an octopus or cosmic spider. The starfish effect is enhanced by the fact that the more prominent cluster stars are of similar brightness. Best view? In my old 16mm 100° “Happy Hand Grenade” ocular at 78x.

In John Mallas’ beautiful—if small-aperture—Unitron, his impression was “[S]quare-shaped with a clump of stars at each corner.” I can see that, yeah, the central region, the “body” of the starfish or spider, is squarish. I don’t see clumps of stars, though, I see chains. Neither of us is wrong. Looking at galactic clusters is like looking at clouds; you see what those shapes suggest to your mind. Overall, Mallas was impressed, “For small apertures, this is a beautiful cluster in a rich field.” With that, I agree, but the same goes with larger apertures with appropriate eyepieces.

In the ZWO smartscope, M38 looked much as it had to my eye in Louisiana. OK, OK, I’ll admit Suze saw more background field stars from the backyard than I did with a 10-inch from a dark site. There was a bonus, too, one I overlooked with the Dobsonian. At the edge of the frame is another open cluster, little (5.0’) magnitude 8.2 NGC 1907. Not only did I miss it in the eyepiece at Feliciana, I didn’t notice it in Suzie’s shot until the exposure was done. If I had, I’d have reframed the picture to show it better—or at least have turned off the ZWO’s watermark.

Messier 36

M36, NGC 1960, was first seen by Hodierna in 1654. He had no idea what it was, being unable to resolve its stars with his small instrument. It was merely another intriguing “nebulous patch,” which could be anything.  Following Hodierna, it was rediscovered and lost again time or two before being spotted by Messier in 1764 with his 3-foot telescope. Charles was the first observer to resolve the cluster. M36 is both smaller (10.0’) and brighter (magnitude 6.5) than neighboring M38.

This M-object is often called “The Pinwheel Cluster.” I’m not sure that’s what I saw with Zelda on those Louisiana nights, though. Oh, it was beautiful, but my impression was mostly of a rich splash of stars with a medium-dense center. It’s tight but doesn’t begin to look like a loose globular. Maybe 10-inches was too much aperture to give a pinwheel impression, resolving too many dim stars. Anyhoo, I liked it best in the 13mm Ethos (115x).

Mallas, thanks to his smaller aperture, had an easier time seeing an overall shape. However, he doesn’t seem to have seen a pinwheel either, “Outward streamers of faint stars gave a crab-like appearance.” He does note the same thing I did, the lovely color contrast among the cluster’s suns.

Not too much to say about the smartscope’s take on this one. M36 is without doubt the weakest of the three Auriga clusters. It looks good in Suzie’s shot, but pales alongside M37, of course.

Messier 37

The last of the Big Three, M37 (NGC 2099), is another one bagged by Hodierna (in 1654). It was promptly “lost” and rediscovered by Messier in September 1764. In our trio of beauties, M37 is the standout. At magnitude 6.2 and 14.0’ across it is both the brightest and richest of the Auriga clusters.

For Unk, there is no contest; M37 is the best, the richest, the most beautiful. In the 10-inch, it was a mind blower, looking more like a loose globular than a galactic. What I saw was a triangular core about 5.0’ in size surrounded by an outer halo of stars bright and dim, all looking tiny and marvelous. The cluster’s renowned red central star was more than obvious. My most memorable view of M37, however, was with my old C8, Celeste, one dark winter’s eve’ sixteen years ago at the Chiefland Astronomy Village:

This gorgeous open cluster in Auriga was just indescribable in the 13 Ethos. At times it looked almost like the south’s great globular cluster, Omega Centauri. At other times, it assumed weird shape and substance. One time I found myself seeing the central triangular area of the cluster as the head of a raging bull, M37’s red central star forming its baleful eye: the whole thing a miniature Taurus.

John’s opinion of M37 in The Messer Album mirrors my own: “This is one of the finest open clusters in the heavens.” Maybe I’d change that to “the finest.”  This group is often called the “Salt and Pepper Cluster,” but that doesn’t seem adequate. Maybe the old “diamond dust on black velvet” cliché is the best description of this wonder.

There’s nothing to complain about in Suzie’s picture of this great cluster. It’s just beautiful. It’s not a criticism to say it looks less like a loose globular than just a rich galactic cluster; that’s the difference between eyepiece impressions and looking at an image. When you study a photo of M37, it is obvious the group doesn’t come close in richness to even a loose glob like NGC 5053. I am very pleased with little Suzie’s image, though.

Cleanup on Aisle Cassiopeia!

I should have stopped by Messier 103 when I observed M52 at Deep South. Somehow I forgot about it, though, so I made my way over to this spectacular cluster once Zelda and I returned home.

Messier 103

M103, NGC 581, is another one discovered by Messier’s friend and fellow observer, Pierre Méchain, in 1781, and was added to the Messier list by the man himself. What’s special about this young, metal-rich cluster (Magnitude 6.9, 5.0’)? It was the last object added to the Messier catalog by Messier himself.

Yeah, I sure wish I’d turned the 10-inch to M103 during the star party, but I didn’t, so I'd have to see what a small reflector would do with the group from home. When Miss Dorothy and I moved out here a decade ago, my backyard skies were often impressive. Now, they have gone from the “suburban-country transition zone” to the “suburban” category.

I viewed M103 on the same night as M34, and it also got the 6-inch treatment. Despite haze that was rapidly thickening to fog, the cluster was immediately visible when we were on the field. However, the lovely arrowhead of stars that defines it was, well, small, real small. Tanya would have had a hard time here. In a 9mm Expanse (83x), the 6er gave a decent view. The Arrowhead even gave up a few of its dimmer suns. 

John really dug M103. How could he not? “A grand view! The stars form an arrowhead which is also seen in photographs. A 10x40 finder resolved the cluster, but the 4-inch showed the fainter stars, many of them colored.” Indeed, one of the most beautiful aspects of this group is the contrast between the cluster’s blue-white stars and one bright, orange luminary.

Open clusters are duck soup for the S50 smartscope from the suburbs, and Suzie’s image is a nice one. The only way I might improve upon it is to give M103 a longer exposure than the 10 minutes I allotted to it. The picture’s not bad, but there is a little more noise than I’d like.

Christmas Eve 2025 at Chaos Manor South

It is again time for ho-ho-ho and mistletoe and presents to pretty girls...