Kent Blackwell
I left home Sunday April 2, 2005 heading for Washington DC to catch a flight to Los Angeles, CA. After a long
6-hour flight I arrived in L.A. and then flew another 8 hours to Papeete Tahiti. Although the flight attendants endeavored
to make the trip as less strenuous as possible it still was a grueling travel day.
Upon arrival at the airport in Papeete the officers of the cruise ship m/v Discovery met us to take us to the ship. This
had been a very long day; in fact I had now been awake more than 25 hours.
The ship sailed at midnight. Although I should have gone to bed I stepped outside to stargaze. Wow, Scorpius
was at the zenith. Crux, better known as The Southern Cross, was half way up in the sky. The Jewel Box cluster, though
small in my 10x30 binoculars, was nevertheless pretty. Eta Carinae was a bright naked eye object. I could see many
involved open clusters through the binoculars, but the real beauty was the nebulosity in this magnificent region. I
gave thought to unpacking the Orion StarBlast telescope but decided to go to bed instead. After all, I’d have the next
three weeks to view the southern sky.
Surprisingly I awakened at 5:45 am, just in time to watch sunrise over the island of Moorea, Tahiti. The
shark-toothed Mount Rotui and the towering Mount Tohivea were beautiful. We docked at Cook’s Bay. Moorea is
rumored to have been James Mitchener’s idealized island Bali Hai. Many people have described it as the most
beautiful place on earth.
Instead of taking an organized tour of the island, Robert Hitt and I went ashore and rented bicycles. This gave
a greater opportunity for picture taking; allowing us to stop and snap pictures as we pleased. We rode the bikes down
the main road about 2 miles until it became too hilly to comfortably pedal. The view of the Pacific Ocean from this tiny
island is difficult to put into words. Once back on the ship we dined for lunch and sipped champagne as the m/v
Discovery raised anchor and set sail for Pitcairn Island. It would take three full days to reach Pitcairn.
I set the clock for an early hour the next morning to watch sunrise. It was a bonus to see both a beautiful
sunrise and the green flash. Later in the day it was fun chatting with fellow passengers. I’ve seen many of these people
on previous eclipse cruises, so it was good seeing them again. The passenger list included everyone from those who
had never witnessed a solar eclipse (eclipse virgins) to those who have seen as many as 25! This would be Bob and my
10th total eclipse. I consider total eclipses those that are truly total, not annular. Some people count annulars, and
some even count partials, as part of their list of eclipses. That’s cheating, in my opinion.
Dinner that evening was formal. After an exquisite meal I set up my Orion StarBlast telescope forward on the
deck, just above the bridge area of the ship. I must say I was better dressed that night for stargazing than ever before.
How often does one hunt down deep sky objects sporting high gloss black shoes and a fancy tuxedo? There I was
crawling on my knees reading star charts and pointing the telescope skyward in such attire. The sky was absolutely
stunning, but it took awhile just to identify the constellations. I can now completely sympathize how “lost” beginners
must feel when viewing the unfamiliar sky for the first time. I quickly learned that The Southern Cross (Crux) and The
False Cross were good guidepost for finding one’s way to other constellations. Dozens of passengers glimpsed
through my scope at various objects. After I set up the StarBlast a friend from San Francisco assembled his “little”
scope, a monstrous 4” Takahashi refractor. The view of Eta Carinae in his 4” Takahashi fitted with a 31mm Nagler was
indeed better than my StarBlast, but considering how very ultra portable and comfortable the StarBlast is to observe
through I’m not sure I could see that great a difference, especially on a ship moving up and down and from side to side.
If you ever take a telescope aboard a cruise ship I highly recommend either a StarBlast or an Edmund Astroscan as the
ideal instrument. In all honesty Rick Fienberg (editor, Sky & Telescope) and I agreed his new Canon 15x50 stabilized
binoculars were nearly as satisfying as the telescope. The only downside of such binocular viewing is the lack of
tripod adaptor on many stabilized binoculars, and therefore the inability of sharing views of objects with others.
The next few days would be full days at sea en route to Pitcairn Island. I enjoy days at sea, and these were
filled with enrichment lectures from the Sky & Telescope team discussing eclipses and methods of photographing
them. After dinner I once again set up my telescope on deck but clouds quickly moved in so I retired to my cabin for the
evening. At 2:30 AM I awakened to find the sky had cleared beautifully. I had a great time exploring many open star
clusters in the tiny constellation of Crux. One of my favorites, besides The Jewell Box is NGC 4609, a neat little tiny open
cluster lying just northwest of the 5.3 magnitude star HR 4830. At very low power it looked very much like a globular,
but 30x showed individual stars. It’s a great object. The real showpiece in Crux is The Coalsack, a velvet black void in
The Milky Way lying east of the stars Acrux and Mimosa. I pointed it out to several people and explained how averted
vision helps seeing it. By 3:00 AM I was the only person stargazing. Something really neat was the fact that the officer
piloting the ship would warn me when he saw rain showers ahead on the ship’s radar. I simply moved the little
StarBlast into a sheltered area and waited for the showers to end. Within minutes the sky was clear again.
The m/v Discovery arrived at Pitcairn Island at noon a few days later. Pitcairn is the island chosen by the
mutineers of the HMS Bounty in the 1700’s as their new home. Even today the tiny island only has 45 inhabitants. The
seas, always treacherous at this island were unusually rough the day of our arrival so Captain Erik made the decision
that it was too dangerous for us to go ashore. The only way to get ashore even on calm days in to climb down rope
ladders from the ship into the islander’s long boats. But today the swells reached 20-30’ as they crashed into the rocks
ashore. Nevertheless several of the islanders came out to greet our ship, bringing their souvenirs on board. I had a
nice discussion with Tom Christian, the great, great, great grandson of Fletcher Christian. Only three cruise ships per
year visit the people of Pitcairn so it was a real treat for them to see us. They only have electricity a few hours per day
so the night sky is as black as anywhere in the world. There are no inhabited islands for many hundreds of miles. Oh
how I’d love to have my 25” telescope on that island. I was told I’d be welcomed at any time. If you wish to move to
Pitcairn you’re required to live on the island four years before being accepted by the community. By sunset we set sail
for Easter Island, a 3-day voyage across the South Pacific Ocean.
The eclipse was the next day, and the most important day of the cruise. I’m glad to say Tom & Betty Christian
had been invited by the ship’s staff to cruise with us to witness the eclipse. The fascinating couple would sail with us
to Easter Island but would not be able to return home to Pitcairn until the next ship sails to their island home in
November!
After a hearty breakfast on Friday April 8, 2005 Robert Hitt and I set up our telescopes and cameras on the
deck of the m/v Discovery situated about 500 miles from the isolated land mass of Pitcairn Island. The sky was mostly
clear but some puffy white clouds and a few high cirrus clouds gave us a scare. It wouldn’t take much for one of those
clouds to completely obscure a total eclipse lasting only thirty-one seconds. As our ship steamed slowly forward we
actually gained a full second of totality from our intended position. The reason Captain Erik Bjurstedt moved his vessel
was that he feared clouds would be more prevalent in the original location. Our final position at totality was S 22 37.879
latitude and W 129 39.27 longitude.
First contact occurred at 10:22 AM, as suddenly a tiny bite was taken out of the sun’s disk. I’ve anticipated this
for a long time and it was hard to believe the time had finally come to witness this awesome event. As 2nd contact
approached at 11:51 AM everyone became more excited. Suddenly the moon slipped completely in front of the sun,
revealing a spectacular diamond ring. It’s been my experience not to waste too much valuable time worrying about
photographing a total eclipse. At totality, especially one of this short duration, it’s far more important to look at it
visually. Believe me, you will never witness anything in nature to match it.
I watched the eclipse through my Orion 4.5” f/4 StarBlast, and the view was nothing short of astounding.
Those who have seen prominences through hydrogen alpha filters may take my word for it those views can’t even
come close to the vibrancy and glory of those marvelous pink prominences visible during a total solar eclipse. I can
honestly say I have never witnessed a more beautiful corona or more spectacular prominences than this eclipse.
Surely that’s because the moon was so much smaller in angular size than it is at longer eclipses. The view was just
breathtaking. As I viewed the sun in the StarBlast I simultaneously photographed it with a Canon 20D digital SLR
camera and an 80mm f/6 William Optics Megrez refractor telescope, all riding piggyback on the main scope. I’d like to
offer my gracious thanks to friend Steve Hamilton for lending me this superb instrument. I never took my eye away
from the 25x image in the StarBlast telescope, so could only hope the camera caught at least a fraction of what I saw
visually.
Viewing and photographing this eclipse was one of them most challenging I have ever undertaken because the swells
in the Pacific Ocean reached nearly 10-12’, with very high wind gusts, and totality only lasted 32 seconds. Even at 25x
the sun would, at times, drift completely out of the field of view, return to the center and then drift out the opposite
side. You have to learn to snap a picture on one of these “returns” to be even moderately successful.
The next port was Easter Island, truly the most remote place in the world. The nearest inhabited island is tiny
Pitcairn, over 1200 miles to the west. Easter Island is 2,300 miles from Santiago and, in the other direction 2500 miles
from Tahiti. To its inhabitants it has always been the center of the world, a fact reflected in its name, Te Pito o Te Henua,
meaning “navel of the world”, in the belief that they were the only inhabitants. Easter Island is most famous for its Moai
statues. The exact number of Moai is unknown because many lie buried in piles of rubble or beneath the soil at the
stature quarry; the estimates vary from 800 to 1,000 and range in size from 12’ to 30’ tall.
I explored Easter Island two days, traveling over most of its 18x11-mile area quite thoroughly. Robert Hitt and
I also explored the very small town center, stumbling upon a local school. We were invited onto the school grounds
where we promptly handed out solar eclipse stickers to the kids. I took a photograph of them in a group and upon
displaying their picture the eager kids stormed me as they saw themselves on the postage stamp size monitor screen
of my camera! We then walked from the school to the Easter Island Museum situated on a beautiful parcel of land
overlooking the South Pacific where gigantic waves crash over the rocky shore below.
After these wonderful days it was time to leave Easter Island. Five days at sea were required for the m/v
Discovery ship to reach the next port of call, Pisco, Peru. The first night at sea the sky was completely cloudy. To tell the
truth I was a bit relieved because I needed to get a good night’s rest. After a wonderfully elegant dinner aboard the
ship I enjoyed a live variety show before retiring for the evening.
I spent a large part of the days at sea reviewing different sky maps to determine the most interesting
southern sky objects to view. That wasn’t as easy as it sounds because I had to only select objects visible in the
relatively small 4.5” aperture of the Orion StarBlast telescope and objects that would be viewed under the most
challenging conditions imaginable. First, forget using any printed star maps. I learned that lesson the first night
stepping out on the forward deck of the ship. The winds howled at 45-55 mph. Immediately, a huge gust of wind
grabbed the David Chandler Southern Hemisphere Planisphere from my hands and tossed it overboard. I found it best
to use a laptop computer, making certain to secure the red filter over the screen. Another obstacle was the ship’s
motion. Some nights the sea swells exceeded 30 feet! Imagine the difficulty trying to identify unknown objects and
watching as they drift wildly in and out of the field of view. By the time I would familiarize myself with the sky the laptop
battery would die. Those who know me can only imagine my impatience and frustration. At one point I decided to take
an Orion UltraBlock filter out of my pocket and put it in a more secure place. As soon as I did the wind grabbed it. I
watched as it slid under the secured locked area on deck labeled, “Ship’s Bridge, No Admittance”. Well, no admittance
except for Kent Blackwell looking for his $80 filter. I hoped no one would step outside the bridge to find me crawling
around on my hands and knees with a red flashlight scrutinizing the bridge floor looking for the filter. Within a few
minutes the filter was found and tucked away safely. That night didn’t go un-rewarded because I saw several beautiful
open and globular clusters as well as The Etched Hourglass Planetary Nebula and The Blue Planetary Nebula. I may
never get a chance to see these objects again.
Our third day at sea Rick Feinberg of Sky & Telescope offered an interesting lecture, The Eclipse Revisited.
Rick collected some of the passengers’ pictures of the eclipse. One of the most interesting was a series of pictures
taken by Miloslav Druckmuller. Miloslav highly processed thirty-one images he took during the eclipse to produce an
unbelievable montage image. His MMV project (Mathematical Methods Of Visualization Of Solar Corona) is to develop
new mathematical methods to make the processing of corona images more effective, especially the highly precise
registration, and to visualize coronal structures by means of adaptive filters, which are inspired by human vision. Mr.
Feinberg also showed Robert Hitt’s eclipse video titled, South Pacific Total Solar Eclipse. Robert put the production
together using digital still images he and I had captured during the eclipse and am proud to say it was a big hit at the
finale of the lecture.
I had a number of objects selected to view but unfortunately clouds moved in for the duration of two days
and nights. Too bad, because the first ten days of the cruise the weather was clear each day and night.
The next port of call was Pisco, Peru, famous for it’s fine wines. Pisco has a population of 250,000 but the
economy is very poor. The only place in the world I have seen such poverty is Honduras. Most residents don’t have
electricity and live in little more than houses made of mud and sticks. These are truly desperate souls, but everyone
seemed quite content. I couldn’t help but think how extravagant we live compared to these people.
At the last minute we were able to sign up for a long sold out tour to see the Nazca Lines. The exact reason for
the ancient people etching these lines into the desert remains a mystery to this day. Our guide suggested the lines
represented an astronomical calendar. Many people have their own ideas, some even believing aliens were
responsible!
Nasca Peru is a three-hour bus trip across the desert from where the ship docked, but part of that duration
allowed for a stop to a museum. Of particular interest was seeing mummies dating back to 7,000 BC. They’re very well
preserved because of the arid desert climate.
Upon arriving at the small privately owned Nazca Airport I contemplated whether or not to fly in the Cessna
206 5-seater airplane. Before I knew it I was pushed into a craft smaller than my station wagon and five of us
immediately taxied off the small dirt runway. Each person was handed a barf bag but the adrenalin was running too
high for me to get scared or sick. The plane flew over one of the many markings with its port wing pointing straight
down for those passengers to get a good view. Then the pilot circled, tipping the starboard wing down to benefit the
passengers seated on that side. This went on for enough time for us to see all the desert markings. Within about 40
minutes we were back on the ground again. Kent fell to his knees and kissed the ground. That, dear friends, was surely
an experience I shall never forget. If you ever have the opportunity by all means do it.
The next day was spending cruising the South Pacific from Pisco to Lima, Peru. Lima, a city of nearly 9 million
inhabitants is a sprawling and beautiful city. I stayed in the Miraflores region of the city near the beaches. During the
last few years tourist have made Mirflores the most visited district of the city, not just for the well-known shops,
cinemas and theaters but galleries that offer classic and avant-garde exhibitions as well.
Despite being a desert city, Lima is also humid, yet only receives 2-3mm of rain annually! Lima residents
refer to the gray skies as “donkey belly gray”. It would not be an ideal city for amateur astronomers because I’m told
they rarely see the stars at night because of the thick haze. I spent two days in this exciting city before returning on a
long flight home.
The three week trip was one of the most exciting eclipse expeditions I have ever experienced. It was
certainly a total eclipse seen by very few since it was not visible from any land mass on Earth. Only three ships on the
expedition witnessed it, a total estimated at 1500 people. That made it even more special for each of us. The next total
solar eclipse will be of nearly 4 minutes duration, and far more accessible than this one. I’ll be somewhere along the
centerline, ready, once again, to experience the grandest spectacle nature has to offer.
