A Solo Dark Sky Search 20 - 22 August 2001

When I purchased my telescope in December of '98, I promised myself that I would one day embark on a solo excursion in search of dark skies. This after realising that my astronomical passion - deep sky galaxies - was beyond reach in the murky light-polluted skies of suburban Randburg. I fondly recall my early experiences with a telescope; frustrating evenings searching in vain for those bright galaxies that MUST be within range of a telescope of this size (10 inch Schmitt Cassegrain). Honestly, after an hour of neck twisting, back breaking searching, I could not even locate Centaurus A!

I have experienced what I call a "crystal inky black night" only once - where the stars glitter like diamonds just above your finger tips. The stars are so bright and the sky so dark that the two appear completely disassociated with one another. That was back in May '98 when I was on business at a tea plantation northeast of Louis Trichardt.

Like an addict craving to match that very first "high", I excitedly stocked my Jetta with my telescope, star charts, sleeping bag, Cadac, table, chair, basic food stuff, and a map.

I drove west on Monday. At around 4pm, somewhere between Delareyville and Stella, I decided on a right-hand turn onto an old farm road. My first task was to find a farm house and ask permission to stop somewhere in the farm fields for the evening. Finding the farmhouse was a relief after some of the worst corrugated, axel-wrenching dust road I had yet experienced. A very fierce looking elderly lady answered the door. In stammering, nervous and halting Afrikaans, I told her I was an amateur astronomer from Johannesburg looking for a dark site to set my telescope and take some photographs of the stars. Her face broadened into a wide grin as she realised I wasn't the least bit menacing; just some crazy stadsjaapie (city slicker) and enthusiastically offered me the run of the farm.

With renewed confidence and faith in humankind's amazing hospitality, I set out in search of a nice tree to park under for the night - this was the most difficult task of the entire excursion. Plenty of straw bales to park next to but no trees. I must have driven 10 hectares flat looking for a tree. Distant farm workers watched in fascination as this little blue Jetta traversed the fields like a wannabe tractor.

Just as the sun was kissing the western horizon, I found a location that seemed painted on a farmland postcard. A tall tree, some stone ruins and a rusted 1960's pickup. As I leisurely set my scope, munched at one-minute noodles and sipped a glass of fresh orange juice, I realised that this IS what it means to love stars. As astronomical twilight finally faded, my dream began to realise.

Not a farm light or city glow in sight - just inky black sky with crystal stars. I whooped with joy as I focussed on the lagoon nebula. A gentle nudge northwards and the Trifid Nebula was as three-dimensional in the eyepiece as a child's 3D viewer. A quick look at Omega Centauri - oh, my goodness! Dumbbell nebula - ah, stunning clarity. Butterfly Cluster - crystal - diamonds!

Right, out with the camera. I had a few hours to spare before the realm of the galaxies began their dance in Fornax and Sculptor. So, best to apply the time to some long awaited astrophotography of as many "Hollywood" objects as I could bag.

Ten exposures later and I already felt my impromptu adventure was well worth it. Lagoon, Trifid, Dumbbell, Omega Cen, 47 Tucana, Butterfly cluster, Jewel Box - they were all there, rolled neatly into the receiving spool in the camera. Now it was time for a festival of Galaxies. Fortunately, no other human ears heard my exclamations of joy.

It must have been close to 3am when, exhausted, I finally snuggled into my sleeping bag in the passenger seat. Then, snorting, puffing and munching next to the car. Cows! I checked the time - 6am. Time for breakfast. After managing to coax the cows a distance away from the car, and more importantly, the telescope, I settled into a 'boot hotel' breakfast of muesli, yoghurt, muffins and coffee. By the way, cows don't eat bananas.

With the car packed, and a successful night of astro-photos and spiral galaxies under the belt, I was ready to go deeper west. I found a filling station in Stella with a clean rest room where I washed and freshened up for the exciting day of discovery ahead.

Somewhere between Vryburg and Hartswater, I decided to turn left this time. More torturous suspension-rattling road. Exasperated and hot under the collar, I parked the car next to an old acacia tree. The whole of South Africa is fenced and locked! And I need a 4x4 - this is killing my car!

A bakkie stopped next to me and the farmer climbed out. I introduced myself and again offered my poor Afrikaans - he accepted, saying my Afrikaans was better than his English. I again explained myself the same way as the previous evening. He opened his farm to me! I said I was just looking for a tree to park under and I would be no trouble and leave no mess at all. He went on to offer me a bed, hot bath and breakfast the next morning. I politely declined but insisted that he and his wife come and view through the telescope that evening. He accepted excitedly and promised to call me on my cell phone to confirm an arrival time for the evening.

That hot afternoon, under a large acacia tree, I set the scope, ate a delicious lunch out of the boot and slept deep and long in the passenger seat of the car. I was dreaming of surfing on galaxies when a familiar snorting sound woke me. Cows! What is it with my car and cows?

Dinner was my special hotpot mix on a steaming bed of rice. Home cooking right there in the middle of nowhere has a very special flavour. A beautiful sunset and a lovely feeling of anticipation for the night ahead. Henk and Francina were right on time for their personalised tour of the southern skies. They asked intelligent, searching questions about the stars, light years and UFO's. I was amused by their sudden irritation at their neighbours' distant farm lights. Henk immediately dialled the phone number of one of his neighbours to complain but fortunately only received a mailbox message.

Alone again and total darkness. Paradoxically, I felt so completely safe. It may be a false sense of security but I felt I had travelled far away from crime. If I was unlucky enough to encounter safety issues, then I would probably also be unlucky enough to be hit on the head by a flaming bolide. I happily dispensed with the programmed unease that we all have in unfamiliar environments and enjoyed a structured tour and tagging operation on the Fornax, Sculptor and Centaurus galaxies. I also indulged in attempting a wide-field panorama photo set of the Milky way galaxy, beginning with the Southern Cross and ending at Cygnus. Regular intervals of coffee, rusks and cup-a-soup - the hunger and thirst wolves were kept well in check.

Bed time was a more reasonable 2am and I was awoken by a totally unexpected visitor - the cold. One valuable lesson learned during this adventure was that a vehicle becomes a refrigerator at 5.30am. I was breathing vapour clouds inside the vehicle. A lone feathered raptor sat transfixed in the acacia tree as I ran laps around the car to warm my toes.

Total cost of solo adventure: 1½ tanks of fuel, some cooking gas, a 20 litre drum for water and a few cans from the pantry! Total preparation and planning time: Sunday afternoon! Value - gorgeous memories that will stay with me for life.

Dave Gordon