There I was, standing just outside a little town known as Sallum
on the western border of Egypt, just a half-mile from the Libyan
border, overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. Why had I traveled so
far to be in this little unknown town?
By David Baumgartner
There I was, standing just outside a little town known as Sallum on the western border of Egypt, just a half-mile from the Libyan border, overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. Why had I traveled so far to be in this little unknown town? Well, I was there with my two cameras on tripods with special solar filters pointing up toward the sun, and maybe a thousand other people who were also ready to experience and start taking pictures of my first solar eclipse.
I have been told that a total eclipse of the sun is the most awe-inspiring of all celestial events. I didn’t know if this was true because I had never witnessed one. I had seen many pictures of solar eclipses on television and in magazines, but it is said that one has to experience the event in person to really appreciate its full wonders.
Last year, our daughter and I got the chance to go down to Panama to witness an annular eclipse. Even though an annular eclipse is an exciting event, it doesn’t hold a candle to a total eclipse.
On that day in Sallum, I had been awake since 1:30 that morning going over and over and over in my mind the total procedures of the event, just to make sure I didn’t forget anything or do something wrong. The last thing I wanted was to come all this way, mess up and not have anything to show for it. All the experts say to make a list and stick to it. But I knew in my mind that I had it all down in my head – no stinking list needed here.
Ten minutes to go until the moon’s first contact with the sun, I heard the man next to me starting to get a little flustered. He began to question his settings and what he was supposed to do next. I chuckled to myself, knowing that I was fully prepared because just this morning, I had gone over what could possibly go wrong a million times. I was ready to go without a hitch.
And just then, even with all the excitement going through my mind and body, I had a flashback to the mid-1950s. It was the one Christmas morning I got up to see what was under the Christmas tree, and no doubt, there stood one of the best surprises of my life: my first telescope, one of many to come, all set up and ready for me to start a hobby that would last for, well, a lifetime.
I spent the rest of Christmas Day outside in my pajamas seeing what I could see. I didn’t even come in to open the rest of my packages until much later. I wonder to this day if my mother – or, I mean, Santa – really knew what she was getting me into.
And then, just as quick as my mind had wondered off to the ’50s, I was back to my tripods, stuck in this sandy site with only 5 minutes to first contact. I must admit, at this time I was feeling like I might be getting more flustered than my friend next to me, wondering if I had forgotten something. But I assured myself that this wasn’t the case. But I checked everything just to make sure I hadn’t.
Now, less than a minute to go, and off my mind went again. This time, it went back home to my good star-gazing buddies Mike and Steve, wishing they were there to experience that moment with me. I knew they would have liked to have been there with me as well.
And then I started thinking of the week leading up to this moment, and how my wife, JoAnne, and I had made the trip across the Atlantic Ocean and witnessed the ageless river Nile and the mighty pyramids of Giza and Sakkara along with the inspirational Sphinx. So much was going through my mind at that time; it was a wonder I knew what I was doing.
Then my mind was brought back to the present by the cheers of my fellow onlookers. First contact had occurred at 11:20am. Right on time, I started taking my pictures – once every 5 minutes or so as to give me a good series of photos to show off to my friends back home, and to give me a good record of what really happened just in case I failed to witness a visual for myself.
The moon ever so slowly kept covering the sun, first one quarter, then half and then three quarters. I made sure to keep a cool head and do everything right, just as I had practiced in my mind so many times before. And then it started to happen. I noticed the sky started to turn a dark blue; the shadows on the ground were more vivid than I had ever seen before; the birds that I had noticed chirping were silent now; a little chill had filled the air as I put on my jacket.
I was so excited by that point that I could hardly stand it. I felt like I was in my own little zone. Even JoAnne, my non-astronomer partner, was getting exited. And then, just before totality, I heard someone yell out, ” There is Venus!”
It was getting so dark out that you could actually see the planet Venus along with some of the other bright stars twinkling in the middle of the day. This is not normal, I was thinking to myself, even though I knew it was going to happen.
And then, like some supreme being had intervened, at 12:38 pm the sky turned black, the sun disappeared behind the moon, and this bright haze around the two combined bodies, known as the “suns corona,” shined brightly like some hazy atmosphere.
I was just in awe. I know no other words to accurately describe the sight or how I was feeling. It was one of the most beautiful sights I have ever seen, even if it was for only 3 minutes and 56 seconds.
But then my biggest fear came upon me. After feeling so cocky about my readiness and doing everything just right, I remembered that I had forgotten to take off the filters on both cameras just as totality began. At that time of totality, you can look directly at the sun without the aid of a filter of any kind.
Where was my stinking list? Oh, that’s right, I didn’t need a list. I was dumbfounded, but I managed to pull myself together enough to accomplish the feat. But by that time, I realized that I had missed the opportunity to catch on film the first part of totality, Bailey’s Beads and the Diamond Ring. Though upset with myself, I settled down to enjoy the rest of the eclipse.
Still able to have enough sense to continue to take pictures, I looked through the viewfinder of my camera and kept repeating out loud, “Oh my god, this is gorgeous. I hope the camera can pick this up.”
Even with the excitement going through me at this time, my mind took off on me once again, this time to my father, Harry, who I never met. He had fought in this area during World War II and lost his life fighting for his country. Maybe he had stood in that very spot at one time, I thought. Maybe he was the reason I was even there at that location, at that time.
I don’t know. All I knew is that I had an eerie feeling, so I backed away from my camera to look around. I don’t know what I expected to see, certainly not him. But maybe he was there in some sort of spiritual way. Your mind can present to you strange thoughts at times. All of this seemed to happen in just a split second, and before I knew it, I was back on track viewing the eclipse.
I kept on taking pictures, and I even remembered to put the filters back on after totality. I was able to get good pictures of the Diamond Ring at the end of the total. It happened in less than 4 minutes, yet it seemed to pass in seconds. The glory of it all had come and gone.
It seemed odd to have had to wait for so long for this to happen, travel so far to see it and spend so much money to get here, that I thought: Was it worth it?
Yes, it was worth it, all right. I kept thinking, I want to see it again and again, right now. But nothing could make the experience come back, an experience that will stay with me always. If you have the chance to witness a total eclipse, do it. Even though I didn’t get the best-quality pictures that I wanted or expected, I did get to witness the eclipse in person, through my own eyes. In my memory, it will never be erased.
The next great total eclipse I would like to go see is in China in 2009. I can wait until then, I think. You can be sure of one thing, though: I will have my stinking list ready, and I’ll use it.
Clear skies.
April Sky Watch
April 5: First-quarter Moon
April 7: Moon is 3.8 degrees north of Saturn.
April 9: Moon is farthest from Earth (apogee-252.174 mi).
April 13: Full moon- – the April full moon is called the Grass or Egg Moon.
April 15: Moon is 4.8 degrees south of Jupiter; the equation of time is 0. That is, sundial (apparent solar) time and mean solar time are the same.
April 18: Venus is .3 degrees north of Uranus.
April 20: Last-quarter moon; sun enters the astrological sign Taurus, but astronomically it has only just entered Aries.
April 22: Lyrid meteors peak before dawn; moon is 3.5 degrees south of Neptune.
April 23: Pi Puppid or Grigg-Skjellerup meteors. Good year for checking this shower.
April 24: Moon is 1.1 degrees south of Uranus; moon is 0.47 degrees east of Venus.
April 25: Moon is closest to Earth(perigee-226,005 mi)
April 26: Moon is 3.5 degrees north of Mercury.
April 27: New moon
David Baumgartner is in local real estate and is an avid amateur astronomer. His Sky Watch column appears monthly.
