Monday, July 18, 1994

Three Spots on Jupiter (8 a.m. NASA Briefing)

This morning's 8:00 comet briefing opens with the announcement that at 4:00 this afternoon, NASA will hold a special press conference to present "hot off the press" images of the Fragment G impact from the Hubble Space Telescope.

Keck Image of Comet Shoemaker-Levy 9 Fragment G Fireball 
(click to go to NASA description and enlargement) In the meantime, other images have come in. A dramatic infrared image (2.2 microns, or 2,200 nanometers) from the Keck Observatory telescope in Hawaii shows Jupiter as a bright orange ball with a huge orange Fragment G fireball glowing on its left edge. Dr. Imke de Pater, at Keck, reports having seen a "truly remarkable large plume rising off the limb of Jupiter" in the K band that "completely saturated this telescope." (The clouds had parted and enabled them to see Jupiter just one minute before that impact was expected!)

Dr. John Clark presents a pair of images taken by the Hubble Space Telescope that serve as "before" and "after" shots of the comet impacts.

The first is "an image of Jupiter taken in the far ultraviolet" by the Hubble on May 19. The bright areas at the North and South Poles are Jupiter's aurora. John states with some pride that, "This, in fact, is the best image ever taken of the aurora on Jupiter. It's a little bit overshadowed by the fact that there's a comet hitting the planet right now," he observes wryly, but "scientifically, this is very important."

Hubble Space Telescope Image of Jupiter's Aurora Before Comet Shoemaker-Levy 9 (Far Ultraviolet) Hubble Space Telescope Image of Impacts A, C and E (Far Ultraviolet)
(click to go to NASA description and enlargement)

The second image was taken yesterday, "nearly four hours after the E impact." It shows not one but three dark spots on Jupiter -- the impact sites of Fragments C, A, and E, respectively. (A fourth dark spot in the upper half of the planet is actually Jupiter's moon Io, captured passing in front of Jupiter.)

Hubble Space Telescope Image of Impacts A, C and E (Violet Filter)
(click to go to NASA description and enlargement)

A "violet-filtered" image is presented that was taken about four minutes before the ultraviolet one that shows the three dark spots. John points out that this bluer wavelength is closer to visible light, so the image looks "very similar to the pictures that are commonly shown in the textbooks." He observes that "the dark spots in the ultraviolet appear much larger than the spots in the blue image. In fact, they appear almost as big as the Great Red Spot.

"These features are enormous. They are, in fact, larger than the Earth."

The spinning Jupiter video runs again. Eric de Young of Jet Propulsion Laboratory has made it perfectly clean, showing no traces of blue seams. "Those are Hubble images? Wow!" exclaims newcomer panelist Dr. Lucy McFadden, a visiting professor at the University of Maryland.

Gene Shoemaker explains that this three-color image doesn't look exactly like what you would see in a telescope. The colors, he says, would be "much more subdued" in "various shades of tan."

Spinning Jupiter Hubble Space Telescope Composite, Take 3 (Video, 4.3 MB)

A well-known amateur astronomer has reported seeing spots on Jupiter in his telescope! This most exciting news is delivered by Lucy and Gene near the end of the briefing, in response to a reporter's question about whether any amateur astronomers have seen the impact flashes.

Gene reveals that John Rogers, "a very well-known ... amateur astronomer in England" has reported "seeing the spots, not the flashes."

Based on this credible report, Gene goes on to state, "It should be possible for amateurs with very good observing conditions and a large-enough telescope to actually resolve the spots that you've been looking at in these images."

There's some evidence that the Fragment A impact spot may be blurring, its contents spreading into the surrounding atmosphere. My quest to buy a telescope this morning takes on a new urgency. If the local telescope stores don't have any decent-sized and affordable telescopes in stock, I will lose my chance to look for spots on Jupiter!


My New Telescope

Redlich Binocular and Optical Repair Service in Falls Church, Virginia, opens at 10 a.m. I underestimate the distance and miss the entrance the first time I drive by, so it is about ten minutes after ten when I finally arrive at this shop that sells telescopes.

Owner John Redlich is examining a telescope for a waiting customer. The telescope is a tabletop model with a large mirror inside. John has determined that the mirror has mold or mildew growing on it. The scope will have to be shipped out for repair. It will take a couple of weeks. The telescope's owner authorizes the repair, as the device is useless in its present condition. I feel sorry for the owner. I picture him taking out his telescope on Saturday night for the first time in years, just to see the comet impacts. Now it is out of commission for the duration. But maybe that's not such a tragedy. Both John and the telescope's owner seem to agree that the best images of Jupiter will be seen on television, not through a backyard telescope.

On this discouraging note, it's my turn to be served. Feeling a bit foolish, I ask what kinds of telescopes can be used to look at Jupiter. John shows me two telescopes, both with aperture diameters of about three and one-half inches. One is a conventional refracting telescope, in which light passes between two lenses widely-spaced apart in a long barrel. The other is a reflecting telescope, in which a mirror is used to reflect light, allowing the barrel to be shorter for the same diameter aperture. Both telescopes are similarly priced, on the order of four or five hundred dollars. Both are mounted on tripods, but the mounting mechanism differs. The refracting telescope has a mounting that requires you to make both horizontal and vertical adjustments to keep tracking objects as they move across the sky due to the Earth's rotation. The reflecting telescope has an equatorial mount, which makes it much easier to track objects. You point it at the North Star (Polaris, which lies more or less above the Earth's North Pole) and adjust some setting so that it knows where the North Star is. Then you can point it at any object in the sky, and you need only turn one knob to keep the object in view. John recommends the equatorial mount.

The reflecting telescope, while more compact than its refractor counterpart, has a slight disadvantage against the refractor. When light is reflected off a mirror, a small amount is lost. Since light-gathering ability is critical in astronomical observation, the refracting telescope performs better. The refracting telescope on display also has another point in its favor: you can screw a camera onto it to take astronomical photographs. It sounds like my best bet is to buy the refracting telescope and get an equatorial mount for it.

I want to make an informed decision, so I ask about larger telescopes. John shows me a five-inch model that sells for about $1300. It has a motor drive mount and sits on a table. After looking at five-hundred dollar telescopes, this one gives me sticker shock. What would I get for spending all that extra money? More light, more magnification, more photographic capabilities and a motorized drive that will automatically track the stars as they move across the sky.

John advises me not to buy a telescope just to watch for the comet impacts. That seems like good advice, since there is no guarantee that I will see anything. John has been emphasizing the difference between city observing, where light pollution is abundant, and rural observing, where the skies are darker. To my amazement, he asserts that in the Washington area, there is even a difference between the viewing from "inside the Beltway" and "outside the Beltway." Fortunately, I live outside the Beltway, but I have no idea how much that will buy me. I must ask myself what I will do with this telescope after all the excitement about the comet fades. Eventually the spots will cease to be visible -- if indeed I ever get to see them in the first place. Will I still use my telescope after the novelty wears off? Will I find other things to look at -- the moon, maybe? Or will it sit on a shelf, the quiet victim of my next all-consuming passion? I know from experience that I have a lousy track record. Typically, I get interested in something for about two weeks. Then, when I have learned as much as I want to, something else captures my attention, and I move on. There's a definite danger that this will happen with my new telescope, too. Is it worth taking that chance?

On the other hand, my one overwhelming fear is that when an announcement is finally made that you really can see evidence of the impact sites through an ordinary backyard telescope, I will find myself without the necessary equipment to see it. By the time I can get my hands on a telescope -- assuming there are any left to be had -- it may be too late to see anything at all.

To see, or not to see? That is the question. Like Hamlet, I need more time to decide. Luckily, there aren't any other customers in the store. I did well to get here early.

Stalling for time, I ask about the amazing close-up photos of wild birds on the walls. John says he took them himself. There are herons and eagles and other striking birds, including a beautiful and dramatic close-up of a pelican in flight. I mention that I, too, am interested in birds and have tried photographing herons before. This prompts John to show me yet another telescope.

Technically, the Celestron C90 is called a "spotting scope" instead of a telescope. Most conventional telescopes produce what is called an inverted and reversed view of celestial objects. A spotting scope comes with an attachable extra mirror that corrects it to a normal, right-side-up image. Like a telescope, it can be used to observe celestial bodies. But unlike a telescope, it can also be used during the daytime to view and photograph nature.

I test the spotting scope in the store by aiming it at the vacant house across the street. Then I focus it on a tree stump on the side of the house, where a robin serendipitously poses for me. I am impressed when I see that the robin almost fills the viewing area. This is quite a tool for observing nature! But since it is a reflecting telescope of the same size as the refracting telescope that John showed me earlier, it won't gather quite as much light. Therefore, it is less optimal for astronomy.

I must choose between these two scopes to get my Jupiter watch off the ground. John reiterates that I shouldn't buy a telescope just to look at the comet impacts. Take into account all your viewing needs, he says. I interpret this as steering me towards the spotting scope, which is more versatile.

It's a tough call. I am quite certain that I will find uses for the spotting scope even after the Jupiter furor fades out. My interest in birds and photography is well-established, albeit sporadic. But the comet impact residues, should they turn out to be visible, might only be marginally so. The difference between the refracting telescope and the spotting scope could mean the difference between seeing the comet impact spots or not seeing them.

More light also makes higher magnifications possible. I am tempted to buy the best telescope that I can to see Jupiter -- all my other interests be dashed! Yet I can't deny that I might abandon this new astronomy hobby once the Jupiter frenzy dies down. I am between jobs right now, without a steady source of income. It doesn't make sense to buy an expensive toy and only use it for a week or two. Even if that "toy" happens to be a telescope, and I'm using it to get a glimpse of something that might not be seen again for hundreds of years.

I still need more time and information, so I ask John to show me how the telescopes work.

I have already test driven the Celestron C90 spotting scope, so I know it is easy to use. It rests on a standard video tripod. John shows me which knobs to turn to align, focus, and track with the two other telescopes of interest. Then I try lifting each telescope and tripod assembly. The C90 is light and easy to carry, even with a tripod. The refracting telescope weighs a little bit more and is a lot more unwieldy. The reflecting telescope with its equatorial mount is heavier still. I imagine myself trudging through some field in the middle of nowhere, trying to lug one of those cumbersome telescopes with me. It is not a pretty picture.

The weight difference alone is almost enough to persuade me to buy the spotting scope. Still, I am worried that Jupiter might turn up with comet debris markings that can only be seen with an astronomical telescope. John reassures me that magnification isn't everything, and that the difference in light gathering between the spotting scope and the refracting telescope is unlikely to be critical.

There are now two other customers in the store besides me. The lunchtime crowd has begun to arrive. If I don't make up my mind soon, this patient store owner will have to move on to his other customers, and I will have to wait. I believe I have all the information I need now. Certainly, I've heard as much as I can absorb as a complete novice. Encouraged by John's reassurance, I purchase the spotting scope and a standard video tripod.

As if to confirm the wisdom of that decision, the next man in line -- who has been waiting patiently for the past ten minutes -- buys the exact same scope that I just bought. He had come into the store previously looking for a "land" telescope, and had finally made up his mind.


Through Insect Eyes

That afternoon, I summon my courage and set out to determine exactly what it is that I have just bought.

I study the instructions and begin assembling the spotting scope in my living room. It's not a great place to observe either nature or the stars, but it is clean and carpeted. If I accidentally drop something, maybe it won't break.

The directions for the spotting scope are straightforward. The only dire warnings -- and there are several -- have to do with not pointing it at the sun. It can damage the scope and burn your eyes out. Having just spent a considerable amount of money on that scope, I am not sure which result would be worse!

The tripod comes with no instructions, so I play with it a bit to figure out how its catches and controls work. I do that before I tackle the spotting scope, reasoning that there's no sense in assembling my new telescope until I have a place to put it. (Also, I am chicken.)

Once I figure out how to set up the tripod, the spotting scope seems easy. I follow the simple directions in the book, removing the lens covers, attaching the inverting mirror, and attaching the eyepiece. I screw the mounting plate onto the bottom of the spotting scope, then use a lever on the tripod to clamp the scope in place on the tripod.

The telescope thus assembled and mounted, I aim it out the living room window. This is in direct contradiction to the scope instructions, which advise against using it to look through glass. But hey, I'm just getting started here. I don't dare take my precious telescope outside until I know what I'm doing. Through the small "finder" scope mounted alongside the main one, I zero in on a car that is sitting in a driveway some four houses down the street at the bottom of the cul-de-sac. Then I look through the main eyepiece and adjust the focus on the spotting scope. At optimal focus, the view is predictably hazy because I am looking through window glass. Yet to my astonishment, I find I can read the license plate number on the car. "A spy would love this!" I think. The idea makes me uneasy ... I sure hope all my neighbors don't have these things!

I am now ready to go outside and do some serious nature watching. I don't feel comfortable spying on my neighbors. What I really want to do is aim my spotting scope at backyard birds and see what it can do. I also want to get familiar with its operation so I will be ready to attack Jupiter with all the forces I can muster when it comes out tonight. Speaking of which, it is now about 3 p.m., and that special NASA briefing starts at 4 p.m. I am not wearing a watch, but with my reliable sense of time, I am confident that I will make it back inside well before the briefing begins.

It takes a bit of practice to learn how to aim my telescope at specific objects in the backyard -- especially when they are alive and moving! We are fortunate in that both robins and mockingbirds have built nests near our house this year. At least one baby robin hangs out in the back yard, and four baby mockingbirds. They have all begun to master the art of flying. I have little luck focusing on the mockingbirds as they dart from tree to tree. As soon as I get my telescope pointed at the right tree, the bird gets spooked and flies away before I can zero in on it. I stand a somewhat better chance observing ground-based critters, as they don't move as fast or as far.

After some practice in spotting and tracking earthbound creatures, I have managed to get close-up views of distant robins and mockingbirds. In a successful observation, I can see every feather. A squirrel pauses in the woods, his head held high, his tiny paws held up in front of him. I capture him in my scope. I can see the fuzz on his face as clearly as if I were holding him in my hand. He looks so cute that I wish I could photograph him.

I hear a commotion from a more distant part of the woods behind a neighbor's house, far enough into the trees that I can't see what's going on. I can't even see colors at that distance -- just the browns and grays of fallen leaves and tree trunks, with an occasional glimpse of something moving among them. I point my scope in the general direction of the rustling, and after some searching, I discover its source: a pair of blue jays. In my scope I can see their bright blue and white feathers clearly. They stay close enough together that I can see both of them at the same time. I track them until they disappear from view.

It doesn't seem like an hour has passed yet, so I start looking at the flowers in the gardens around the yard. My mother has a penchant for gardening. We have lilies, gladiolus, chrysanthemums, and other flowers I can't even name. I begin waving my spotting scope wand over them.

I look at flowers through insect eyes, the flowers expanding in full color below me, while slender stalks of adjacent flowers tower high above me. I hover over each flower, admiring its color, studying its petals, and looking for other insects. A fuzzy bee pollinates a bright flower. Gnats fly around another one. I can see the fine strand of a spider's web on a gladiolus some eighteen feet away.

I become so engrossed that when I finally haul my spotting scope back into the house and jog upstairs to catch the beginning of the NASA briefing, I am shocked to find out that it has already started.


Jupiter Gets a "Black Eye"
(Special 4 p.m. NASA Briefing on Fragment G Impact)

Hubble Space Telescope Image of Fragment G Impact
(click to go to NASA description and enlargement) The image on the television screen is the most startling I've seen yet. There is a small black spot, similar to what was seen at the Fragment A impact site. But encircling the spot is a rather sharply-defined ring. The ring's diameter is about twice that of the spot, and the ring and spot do not appear to be concentric. A dark area spreading from the spot occupies roughly the lower right quarter of the ring. Beyond the ring in the lower right is a very large, smeared swath of dark material, similar to the one from the Fragment A impact, only this one is much bigger, much wider, and much darker. A narrow band of light, Jupiter-colored material separates the smudge from the ring and the spot. The smudge, ring and circle together bear an uncanny resemblance to a dark bruise under an eye; hence the scientists have dubbed this image "the black eye."

It soon becomes clear that this is a Hubble Space Telescope image of the impact site of Fragment G. It was taken with the Planetary Camera, and Dr. Heidi Hammel is discussing it.

Hubble Space Telescope Image of Fragment G Impact (Green Filter)
(click to go to NASA description and enlargement) "Let me give you a sense of scale here," offers Heidi. "There's a bright spot, and there's a little dark ring you can see around the spot. And then you see a larger sort of smudge to the south. That little dark ring is 80% of the size of the Earth. That large ring -- that big smudge -- you could easily fit the Earth inside that diameter. This is one big impact site!"

A close-up is shown of the Fragment G impact site, taken at with a green filter. To the left of the "eye" is a smaller black spot. This spot, we are told, was left behind earlier by Fragment D. "G just barely missed hitting D," Heidi says.

Hubble Space Telescope Image of Fragment G Impact (Methane)
(click to go to NASA description and enlargement) An image from the methane band looks similar, only the light and dark regions are reversed. Heidi points out some contrasting "rays" in the smudge that appear to be spreading outward from the edge of the inner ring.

"The energy of this event was probably about 25 times larger than that first impact we showed you," says Heidi, "and that jibes very well with the sizes of these things. This is a much larger splotch on Jupiter."

A plume sequence image for the G impact is shown. This plume peaked out at "about 2200 kilometers above the limb of Jupiter," according to Heidi. That's twice the height that was reached by the plume from Fragment A!

Hubble Space Telescope Image of Fragment G Impact Plume
(click to go to NASA description and enlargement)

Gene Shoemaker says that the energy of the Fragment G impact was on the order of 6,000,000 megatons of TNT, whereas the energy of the Fragment A impact was on the order of 225,000 megatons. Those numbers are corrections to the off-the-cuff estimates he gave at this morning's press conference, which were too high. "We were multiplying by the wrong number," he explains, adding, "That's still a lot of megatons!"

The question and answer session begins, and Bob Cook of Newsday asks about the interaction between the D and G impact sites, since Heidi had hinted earlier that she had more to say on that subject. Heidi uses this cue to introduce an exciting prospect.

"Q used to be the brightest one before G took over," Heidi begins. "When we were doing our planning sequences early on, we were planning on Q as our primary target, not G."

What? Q isn't the biggest one? I was counting on having a couple of days to get my act together with my new telescope! I feel betrayed. Fragment Q was my primary target, too! Thank goodness I bought that telescope this morning. I need to get a good look at Jupiter tonight!

Oblivious to my distress, Heidi proceeds with her tale, using the unfamiliar term "Jovian" to refer to that which is Jupiter's. "When Q goes in ... a very interesting thing is going to happen," she states, pausing dramatically. "Q is going to go in, and exactly one Jovian rotation later -- ten hours -- R is going to hit right next to the very same longitude as Q!

"And one Jovian rotation after that," continues Heidi, "S is going to hit the same longitude on Jupiter!

"So you're going to have three -- boom! -- boom! -- boom!" -- she smacks her palm with her fist on each boom for emphasis -- "right on that very small range of longitude."

"And that is going to make one heck of a mess!" Heidi concludes. Shoemaker chuckles off-camera. "We're looking forward to some really interesting chemistry," she says. "You're not just taking the atmosphere and stirring it up a little bit," Heidi amplifies, "you're really stirring the atmosphere up a lot!"

Bill Harwood of CBS asks about the "very clearly-defined ring" around the Fragment G impact spot.

"There are some theorists who would love to believe that that ring is an atmospheric wave," says Heidi. "It's too small to be a seismic wave, but it could be one of these atmospheric waves that many theorists have been predicting," she says, naming some names. "If that ring expands, then we'll believe it's a wave ... if it does not expand with time, then [we'll] have to go back to the drawing board. We're waiting to get the next sequence of images down, so that we see what happens to that ring."

Harwood also asks about the effect of Jovian winds on the marks on Jupiter, and Heidi addresses that next.

"Certainly, over the next few days we will be watching all that material very closely to see how the winds distribute it," Heidi asserts, "and it will be distributed, there's no question."

"Heidi, do you want to mention that it looks as though some of the material in the spot from the A impact is being smeared out?" Gene prompts.

"That's a good point, Gene," Heidi agrees. "In some of our recent images, the A impact site is not as crisp and sharp as it once was," she observes. "It looks kind of ... messy."

Gene notes that scientists will be tracking the motion of those materials, because "it will be a very nice tracer for the velocities of these upper atmosphere winds, for which there actually is no previous information." He emphasizes, "Very important information on Jupiter will come out from that."

"Can you talk about what kind of impact this would have on Earth, if these things were hitting Earth instead of Jupiter?" queries John Rutherford of NBC.

"Well," exclaims Heidi, "I told Gene I'd get him up here to answer that question!" But not until she sets the stage. "Let me just point out again the scale. Remember that the Earth is about the size of that ring you saw."

"The physical scale of this effect is terrestrial," she continues. "It's that big!"

"You know," she muses, "I wouldn't want to be on Earth if one of these pieces landed on Earth."

Gene jumps in to define the impact in terms of crater size: "If we're right about our estimate of the size and the energy ... if it hit a continent, it would make a 60-kilometer diameter crater," he states. "Thereabouts."

"How does that compare to the size of a state?" prompts Heidi. "For example, Rhode Island?"

"The crater would pretty well cover Rhode Island," Gene returns. In addition, all that material from the comet that went up so high "would just go out ballistically all over the Earth." Now it is Gene's turn to be dramatic.

"It's enveloped the Earth!" Gene exclaims.

"Completely enveloped the Earth!" interjects Heidi.

"It's gone all over the Earth," Gene continues. "The material that's blown out of that crater would essentially blanket the Earth with a layer of fine debris that would just block sunlight. It would just get dark, all over the Earth."

A number of subsequent questions relate to the relative sizes of things. Gene states that Jupiter's diameter is about twelve times the size of the Earth's diameter. Pressed for a direct comparison with the Fragment G impact site markings, Heidi estimates that "the Earth is a little bit larger than the sharp black ring, but the Earth is smaller than the whole smudge area."

David Chandler from The Boston Globe asks why the smudges on Jupiter are black instead of white.

"The theories are numerous," offers Heidi. Scientists are theorizing that the dark matter could consist of "cometary material -- comets are very dark" or material of a different color that has been dredged up from deeper in Jupiter's atmosphere. "I don't have a very good answer to that question right now," she admits. "I was surprised, because most of the fresh features that we see on these outer planets ... tend to be white and bright."

Chandler also has a very good question about the plume sequence images. "Why is there that dark region between the plume and the planet?"

Heidi explains that there are two reasons. One is that part of Jupiter is in shadow. From the Hubble's (and the Earth's) perspective, it is not being illuminated by the sun. Heidi makes an analogy with the Earth's moon, which only appears full to us when it is on the opposite side of the Earth from the sun. The crescent of Jupiter that is in darkness is blocking the light from the fireball.

"The other part is that these plumes are so high that the shadow of Jupiter -- just a little sliver of the shadow of Jupiter itself ... is preventing the sunlight from reaching that," Heidi continues. "But most of that is the limb of the planet."

Hubble Space Telescope Image of Fragment G Impact Plume
(click to go to NASA description and enlargement) Heidi asks for the plume image to be displayed again. In the bottom frame, she narrates, "you see the edge of Jupiter and then you see that smear, the pancake. That pancake is sitting on the planet. That pancake's not floating in outer space! The pancake is in the atmosphere, and that thin little strip there ... that's the unilluminated part of Jupiter."

Other questions concern Gene's revised estimate of the energy expended in the Fragment G impact. Jan Smith of Fox Television asks, "How do you now compare it to the size of the world's bomb arsenal?"

"The number I've always used as the world's arsenal is ten thousand megatons," Gene replies, "but there are other numbers floating around -- and I guess the real number is still a state secret!" He laughs.

"So I've used what's been commonly used in some of the literature, ten thousand megatons," Gene continues. Applying that to Fragment A, he states, "nucleus A's energy is about twenty times that." Gene had also heard an estimate of eighty thousand megatons for the world's arsenal, which would make Fragment A's energy only three times as great.

For Fragment G, Gene goes back to using the ten thousand megatons standard. "When you get to six million megatons, that's a whole lot higher, and that's getting in the ballpark of four hundred or five hundred times what I think is the more conventional, published estimate of the world's nuclear arsenal."

"What was the actual size of the fragment?" asks a reporter from NHK, the Japanese public broadcasting station. "And also, what was the time that the fragment actually impacted into Jupiter?"

"Those are two questions for which we would very much like to have the answers!" Heidi exclaims.

They both address the timing question, then Heidi declares, "We still don't know the sizes of these fragments. I think if Hal were here, he'd probably say that this was a three-kilometer body."

"I would say the height of the plume ... based on the modeling that we've done for a one-kilometer impactor, is consistent with that," Gene agrees. "In other words, that estimate by Hal Weaver for three kilometers looks pretty golden to me."

Jim Reston from Esquire asks, "If you could see the full plume without the shadow, would it mimic the fireball of Hiroshima?"

"We don't think so ... no," decides Gene. "What happens in this case is that the plume is erupting from substantial depth. So there is a column that goes down below the cloud tops that you don't see. But what we see at the surface is just this big bump that comes up initially. Now, as it flattens out, it will ... get kind of mushroom-y out at the edges, so that there is a gap between the bottom of that and the ammonia cloud deck."

"We noticed that the plume was somewhat asymmetric," Heidi adds, "and I think that's because this is a directional thing. The comet pieces are not coming straight down onto the atmosphere; they're coming in at some angle."

"The plume doesn't really necessarily rise straight up," she concludes.

"Some of it blows out sideways," Gene chimes in.

Questions for which no answers can be provided remind us that we are watching scientific discoveries as they unfold. Jim's follow-up question is whether the triple punch of Fragments Q, R, and S in the same location will increase the likelihood of a permanent cyclone forming on Jupiter.

"I'll tell you the answer to that in about two or three days -- " Heidi laughs, " -- after it happens!"

"I really can't even speculate at this point," Heidi demurs when pressed further. "Certainly, it's going to disturb the atmosphere a lot more than a single impact on one site would. I won't go much further than that, though."

Hubble Space Telescope Image of Fragment G Impact (Green Filter)
(click to go to NASA description and enlargement) In answer to a question from an L.A. Times reporter, some mind-boggling numbers are thrown out, with a warning from Heidi that "these are very, very preliminary. We haven't had much time to do detailed analysis." Heidi then dictates, "The diameter of that sharp, thin ring is about 7500 kilometers, and the diameter of the white ring surrounding that, the inside of the black eye, as it were, that's about 15,450 kilometers.

A follow-up question for Gene asks him to compare the size of Fragment G with the object believed to have killed off the dinosaurs when it crashed into Earth 66 million years ago, forming a huge crater in what is now Mexico. Gene explains that, although the exact size is difficult to determine, the minimum diameter of that crater is estimated to be around 180 kilometers. However, the Fragment G impact site, at 60 kilometers, is "three times smaller," so its energy would have been "about 27 times less."

"This is a big event," Gene concludes, "but it still isn't the dinosaur killer."

A reporter asks how much Internet email traffic the panelists are receiving: "How crowded is the electronic huddle?" (Ed. note: This was before the Internet exploded into the popular and pervasive means of communication it is now. In 1994, few people had heard of the Internet, and even fewer still had Internet access or email. It was only just beginning to trickle into people's homes and was used primarily for research and education. It was also a lot smaller -- and a lot slower!)

"We have an email distribution network set up for the professional astronomy community," Heidi explains, "and that is actually working extraordinarily well. People are being very concise about reporting their observations, and therefore ... we have, in our parlance, very high signal-to-noise. A very good amount of information is coming through."

However, public areas of the Internet are experiencing slowdowns. "When I saw...this morning that one of the images from the IRTF [Infrared Telescope Facility] showing the G impact plume was posted on one of the Mosaic bulletin boards, I tried to connect, and I could not get through," laments Heidi. "There's a big traffic jam on the information superhighway right now!"

"But this is an extraordinary event," she observes. "I think that's why. Normally we don't have that kind of difficulty."

Dan Blackburn from KCOP-TV in Los Angeles asks if they have any information about the depths to which the comet fragments are reaching into Jupiter's atmosphere.

"I don't think we have a good answer for that question yet," Heidi concedes, noting that scientists around the world will be using telescopes to take spectroscopic measurements of Jupiter and look for the signature of water. If they find it, that will tell them how far down into Jupiter's atmosphere a particular fragment has penetrated, based on scientists' predictions of how deep in the atmosphere the water clouds are located. (They can't see the water clouds, because they are hidden beneath other clouds.)

Another Los Angeles television reporter has a two-part question. First, "Will anything be left of Jupiter once this is all over?" And second, "What would the impact be on Los Angeles if it were hit?"

Both panelists burst out laughing at the first question. "I think Jupiter's going to hang in there," Heidi reassures him. "It's a pretty big planet."

Gene fields the second question, noting that Los Angeles is his hometown. "It'll take out all of L.A. County," Gene declares. "In fact, I just wouldn't want to be in Southern California, period!"

Mark Courot of the Houston Chronicle asks whether the Hubble Space Telescope might have missed the impacts had their timing been different. How much luck was involved in capturing the Fragment G image?

"The impacts are always occurring on the far side," Heidi reminds us, so for any given impact, "it wouldn't matter if it came in early or late; we would never be able to see it."

The timing of the Hubble Space Telescope's images is limited by its orbit around the Earth. "It orbits every 96 minutes," explains Heidi, "and obviously we can only look at Jupiter when the Space Telescope is on the side of the Earth [from which] Jupiter is visible; it can't look through the Earth. So, in some sense we have been extremely lucky to have captured three of these impact events in the middle of one of the Hubble's visibility windows."

"We were fortunate to have the Hubble in the right place at the right time to be able to capture this one," Heidi exults, referring to the Fragment G impact. "We couldn't have done anything if the Hubble had been on the other side of the Earth."

"I think part of the answer to the question, Heidi, is that we already had very good predictions of the impact times," Gene puts in. "They were certainly good to within fifteen minutes. So that was extraordinarily important in the timing, in the planning, for these images. That was a very essential part of the planning."

"Well, not really, Gene," Heidi counters. "Because we had to do the planning and the sequences many weeks ago -- months ago, when the impact times were not well-known. And the Hubble's orbit was not particularly well-known, either, because that has to be adjusted fairly frequently." As the predictions kept changing, Heidi recounts, "I'd be getting very nervous, and then I'd be very happy, and then I'd be nervous again." But in the end, "I ended up being very happy!"

Traci Watson of U.S. News & World Report asks whether the fragment appears to be from a comet or an asteroid. Its name notwithstanding, it would seem that the jury is still out on the origin of "Comet" Shoemaker-Levy 9. Heidi says that the best answer to Traci's question will come from spectroscopy of the impact sites. Again, it's too early to tell.

The most important question -- to my mind, at least -- is also the last one, by Bill Harwood of CBS. "This is something that should be clearly visible to amateurs, is it not?"

"Well, these black spots are starting to get pretty darned big," Heidi acknowledges, "close to the size of the Great Red Spot. And I believe there have been some reports from visual observers who are starting to see them.

"Now, remember, you have a very high-resolution image in front of you with the Hubble Space Telescope," Heidi cautions, "and with a ground-based telescope, much of this is smeared out."

"But the short answer is that, yes, this is starting to get large enough that amateurs may be able to spot those, if they're very careful observers and know what to look for."

This is what I have been waiting to hear!

"And that three-impact sequence may stir up a [really] big portion of atmosphere; it may get very dark," Heidi continues. She thinks that, if enough material is present, "it's possible that a slightly darker band will develop in this latitudinal region."

Gene picks up where Heidi left off with the amateur astronomers. "I think there's a good chance that amateurs with eight-inch diameter telescopes -- or bigger -- in good sites, where they have very good seeing, will be able to see these," he predicts. "Already there are reports from quite reliable observers."

My hopes are deflated somewhat. My telescope is less than four inches in diameter. But at least now they're seriously entertaining the possibility that some amateur telescopes will be able to see the comet impact spots. Tonight I will get to find out if mine is one of them!


Hazy Summer Moon

It's Monday night, and it's finally dark. I have been waiting all afternoon for this. I haul my telescope outside to see what I can see.

Conditions are dismal. I am getting my first inkling of why the local astronomers had seemed so doubtful that they would see anything. The entire sky is covered with a thick haze. I can see no stars whatsoever. But I can see the moon, albeit with a creamy haze in front of it.

I can't afford to lose this opportunity to practice. I try very hard to focus my telescope on the moon. Without any reference points in that murky sea of clouds, and with my total inexperience at pointing the spotting scope, I am having a hard time even finding the moon in it, let alone focusing on it! After many fruitless attempts, I acquire enough proficiency that I can locate the moon in the finder and then adjust the focus until I can make it out in the main scope. Conditions are so bad that my most successful efforts to focus on it yield only a hazy arc corresponding to the upper right quarter of the moon. No detail is visible. This is not exactly what I had in mind when I bought my telescope. But I can't blame my scope when a big, milky, translucent cloud is obscuring the moon.

Despite the uncooperative weather, my effort was not completely wasted. I got some practice using my scope and discovered some of its idiosyncrasies. The problems I've run into will need to be resolved quickly if I'm to stand any chance of seeing those comet impact spots before they fade away.




© 2019 by Carol Connolly Engle. (Images are from NASA.)