Chasing Meteors (Astrophoto Adventure)

Starry, starry night...

by: Prashphutita A. Greco

Starry Night on the Mountain Top

"Night Skies to Light Up": a short article in Sunday's newspaper caught my eye. Peak activity for the Orionid meteor shower was predicted for early morning, in four days' time. Potential for different subject matter within my next slide show? Definitely! I was inspired. Researching astrophotography on the Internet gave me heaps more background information, and some confidence that I would bag the shot. But, could I make it happen, in terms of fitting in all my other commitments, borrowing a car, and so on? Would the weather hold out till then? (Unusual for Melbourne!). I had to at least make the effort: succeed or fail photographically, this was an exciting opportunity not to be missed. It unfolded as quite an adventure (and many near-misadventures!). The Big Night came; I still had to assemble my kit. Remain calm, centred; work methodically, carefully. Consider all possibilities, ramifications. Decide exactly what to bring, and - just as important - items to leave behind. Pre-set focus and aperture; re-familiarise myself with all that diverse equipment, to minimise potential for disaster. Keep it manageable: one backpack, one black cloth, two cable releases, two camera bags, three tripods, four cameras, four prime lenses and thirteen rolls of film (transparency and negative, in both 35mm and rollfilm). Choose fully manual SLRs which are not battery dependent, provide cable release functionality, sport a self-timer and feature Mirror Lock Up. Wisely, I decide to pre-load all cameras with Fujichrome Provia 400F. My (vague) plan brings me to Mt. Dandenong. Ages since I last visited: I'd forgotten about all those towering trees everywhere! I drive around, up, down, then up again; road to main observatory closed, due to construction work. Aaarghhh! Keep driving, looking, considering. Midnight approaches; I'm potentially missing good meteor action! This isolated road is a possibility... no, not suitable, go back. Feeling a sense of urgency; will have to compromise, alas. Might be viable here, but those power lines... will I cry or scream? Later, feeling compelled to stop, I check my $5 compass: doesn't seem to make sense here, now. Walking across to peer over a cyclone wire fence, I am greeted by the constellation Orion and guiding star, Sirius. Stroke of great luck! Setting up my Rollei TLR, I see my first shooting star. W-o-o-o-w-w-w! Start a time exposure, conscious not to exceed roughly 15 minutes, since there's a gibbous moon, still to set in the west, which will wash out the sky. Quadruple-check all settings on Olympus OM-1N, with 28mm lens; "Thunderbirds are go!" Ditto for Canon FTb with 50mm, f/1.4 optic. An indescribably energising, awe-inspiring experience being here, alone and atop a mountain, gazing at the vastness of space. Must perform cameraRAMA: Release lock, Advance film, Move tripod and/ or Adjust composition. Another meteor whizzes by, at around 250,000 km/ hr(!); very short-lived, didn't leave any smoke trail, not bright enough to register on film... It's all academic, anyway: none of the cameras are pointing at that part of the sky! No easy gig, this! I philosophise: astrophotography is the most difficult of any form of photography. The utmost performance is demanded from lenses, in terms of minimal chromatic aberrations and vignetting wide open, plus high contrast and resolution. Stable camera support is mandatory. Meticulous methodology and technique is required to eliminate any possible vibration at both the beginning and end of the exposure. Atmospheric conditions, moon phase must be "just so." Most films are unsuitable, lacking the requisite balance of effective speed (and minimal colour shifts) during long exposures, sensitivity in the red and blue ends of the spectrum, fineness of grain, and so forth. Of all the 10 or so meteors I eyeballed during the 4.5 hours I was photographing, only one was "reasonably dazzling". As Murphy decreed, I was moving the position of two cameras at that moment, while the remaining camera was aimed at another section of the welkin! No meteors manifested anywhere near where astronomy theory predicted that they would likely be! Whatever happened to those anticipated 23 per hour, anyway? As consolation, the planet Venus rose in spectacular fashion through the veil of clouds on the horizon as dawn approached. Results: 47 frames exposed, zero meteors recorded. Disappointed? Heavens above, no! My resolve to "catch a meteor" has only been magnified. Statistically speaking, my photographic "hit rate" is within expected limits. The allure of celestial photography is irresistible; as astronomer Carl Sagan said: "We are star-stuff ". <<Caption>> Plenty of stars... but no meteors!