Venus Solar Transit 2004

Man, 4:45 AM comes awfully early. I finally rolled out of bed around 5:00 . . . just before Jen got too annoyed with me. No time to shave, beard or head, just enough time to shower, get dressed, make a quick sandwich and head up to work to set-up the old club telescope.

I'm a little leery about this morning for a couple of reasons. First, there's no guarantee that anyone else is going to show up. I had about 12 people say they would be there, but that is never definite, especially at this early hour. Second, I've heard rumors via the web that the white light filter may not allow enough light to pass through to see the transit. I was going to verify that the filter worked but never got around to it, so that's hanging in the balance. Third, this old scope is so unpredictable. Actually, the tube and mirrors are okay; it's the mount that stinks. You never know how this thing is going to perform.

I arrive in the parking lot around 5:55 and head to the spot I scoped out yesterday morning. Low horizon, no building or tree interference, clear shot of the sun. A few vehicles are mulling around the lot and I wonder if any of them are looking for my truck. Sure enough as soon as I back in four other vehicles meet me. John and Phil are here, members of the club who work downtown, as well as Brian, his brother and son. I get the scope out and train it on the moon (the sun is not peeking through the haze yet). Jeff and his wife show up and everyone starts taking turns viewing the moon. A few others arrive and we are all just anticipating the Sun's appearance.

About 6:10 we see the purplish-red orb of the sun poking through the haze just above the distant tree line. THERE IT IS!! With our naked eyes we can see the disk of Venus against the Sun's surface. I move the scope over and we all take a good, albeit quick, look at the Solar surface without the solar filter in place. Magnificent. The colors just leap out at you. After everyone has had a glance, I slide the solar filter onto the end of the scope. I'm not taking any chances with anyone trying to sneak a peak once the Sun rises slightly higher.

A few folks pull out eclipse glasses, but it is still too dark to see yet. Grant sets up his scope with solar filter and tries to locate the transit. I pull out the Coronado Binomite solar binoculars that Jen picked up for me yesterday. Nothing. We're all in limbo. The sun is now too bright to look at with the naked eye, but still too dark to see with the solar filters. Now, we just wait.

John, Phil and Jeff continue to tinker with the club scope. Slowly an orange orb starts to emerge from the blackness and upon the orb is a smaller black circle. Within five minutes the sun is blazing in all its glory in the solar filter. I had grabbed the old 25mm eyepiece hoping to fit all of the sun inside the field of view. It is a perfect match and you can see the entire sun in the eyepiece. Everyone starts taking turns observing. It's amazing how you can see it and yet you need to take another look, and then another, and then another . . . it’s almost like a drug.

Grant is still struggling to get the sun in his scope. We all try to help him and after a few minutes he gets the sun lined up. Now we've got two scopes going strong. Everyone is getting his or her fill of the transit. I again go to the solar binocs. Sad to say, but I am very disappointed. Unlike the solar filters on the telescopes, the sun appears blue in the binocs, not orange, making it a much harder to contrast against the blackness surrounding it. Faintly I can make out the disk of Venus, but the view is less than impressive compared to the telescopes. Also, there is a lot of bleeding of ambient light into the eyepieces of the binocs making it even more difficult to use them. Sadly I make a mental note that I will need to take them back. It's too bad as I was hoping they would be a nice compliment to the rest of my astro equipment.

I remember that Jen was planning on coming up after dropping our daughter off at daycare. Wow, I don't think this will last until then. It's 6:45 and I give her a call at home and tell her to come before dropping the kid off. Other folks come and go and everyone is helping the new comers to see the transit.

TANGENT: This is what astronomy is all about! Not sitting in a field alone hoping to see a fuzzy patch in the vastness of space. Right here, right now, sharing this experience with friends and strangers alike. No politics, no "Big Bang vs. Creation" debates, no theories of life on other planets, just observing and enjoying the majesty of the heavens.

At 7:00 Jen shows up with our daughter who is glad to see her daddy, and I am glad to see her. Venus is nearing the edge of the sun now and Jen gets her first look. It's obvious she is impressed and glad that I called her. They stay for about 10 minutes then need to head off to get on with their days. Others come and go and there is a lot of looking and re-looking.

At 7:14 it starts to happen . . . Venus is moving off the Sun's face. It's hard to describe the feeling at this moment. You know what's coming, you can't stop it, and you don't want to see it end, yet this is the most fascinating part of the experience. Slowly the disk slides off. When we first started observing the Sun looked like a big orange circle that someone had taken a hole punch to, now there is a big notch in the slide. Slowly the notch fades. Now it looks more like a kick or a dent in the orb rather than a punched hole. As the sun heats the atmosphere you can see the shimmer of heat waves in front of the orange circle. Is Venus gone yet? Is that a small indentation remaining?

By 7:26 we all know that it is over. Everyone smiles and thanks everyone for coming out and sharing the experience. Grant and I pack our respective scopes and head into work. 1882 was the last Solar Transit of Venus and the media hyped this transit by proclaiming, "No living person has ever seen Venus transit the sun."

Now we have.