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Back in August, 1981 I took a trip out to California to be at the Jet Propulsion Laboratory in Pasadena to watch and learn as the Voyager 2 spacecraft made its closest approach to Saturn (and various moons and rings). It was a pretty major event in my life; it's what turned me toward a life of science writing. I was working at The Denver Post at the time, and had talked the managing editor into letting me go out and cover the event (even though I was a newly fledged editorial assistant at the time). I think I must have told him that I'd represent the paper well, because he handed me an accreditation letter, patted my hand (which was sort of the editorial equivalent of chucking me under the chin, I guess), and told me to go out and have a good time.
A week or so later, I landed in Los Angeles, and proceeded to have the time of my life. JPL was sort of a "Holy Grail" site for me. I remembered reading about it during the Moon and Mars missions, so I couldn't wait to get there and start watching planetary scientists in action.
So, there I was at JPL's von Karman Auditorium and press site, with a desk and phone and press credentials, watching as folks like Carl Sagan (one of the people who showed me that science writing could be fun) would walk by, visiting with the press or talking with fellow scientists about what they'd seen so far.
Many of the press folk attending the week's press conferences were experienced science reporters. A few, like Kelly Beatty of Sky & Telescope, the folks from Astronomy Magazine, myself, and others, had some astronomy and/or planetary science background. In fact, some were SO experienced that they could make some initial science diagnoses about the pictures at about the same time the scientists themselves were figuring just what the heck we were seeing in the images. The image interpretations (called "instant science") were flowing freely, and the many successful press attempts to figure out the images led one scientist to dub the science press as the "von Karman imaging team" as a sort of tribute to our interest and expertise.
One of the most enduring memories I have of that week (and there are many!) is the evening that images from the moon Enceladus were due to come in. It also happened to be the night that Ted Koppel was going to broadcast "Nightline" live from the von Karman Auditorium at JPL. The press rooms were crawling with several hundred print and TV journalists from around the world, and most of them worked diligently during the day to get their stories filed by late afternoon. By evening all of us who weren't on TV would sit around and watch the TV folks from the east coast do their standups and live interviews. That is, when we weren't glued to the closed-circuit TVs around the place that showed a constant stream of images from Voyager 2.
Anyway, that night, we were watching as Ted put on his makeup and his entourage of directors and camera people bustled around getting things set up. Just as Ted and the bunch were about to go live with their broadcast, images of Enceladus started streaming onto the monitors. Immediately we were all drawn to them, and a bunch of us were clustered around one of the monitors (the von Karman imaging team AND Voyager imaging scientists who happened to be nearby) arguing over just what the strange markings on the moon's surface could mean. It was a free-for-all of image interpretation, planetary science "jousting" and pure astonishment at the amazing level of detail we could make out in the images. I remember standing next to Brad Smith, who was one of the Voyager planetary science team members, listening to him describe the processes that could have formed those strange cracks on the surface.
Well, we'd pretty much forgotten about the "Nightline" folks in our frenzy to look at the images. Not that they cared about us print folks. But, they DID care about having a quiet set, and apparently we were interfering pretty badly with Ted's opening monologue. One of his assistants came over, huffy and waving papers and hissing at us to keep it down.
We did, for awhile. But, as the pictures kept streaming down, our excited discussions got pretty loud again. At one point, Ted chuckled and said that the excitement level was quite high, one of the major understatements in the history of press conferences.
It's amazing to realize that 26 years have gone by since that wonderful, exciting week. I, of course, haven't aged a bit, although my science writing has steadily improved over the years. That visit to JPL is, as I said, what launched me as "TheSpacewriter" (although, at the time, I wasn't quite so audacious as to call myself that), and eventually sparked my interest in going back to school to study more astronomy and planetary science. And, another degree, a couple of major science research projects, some books, a magazine editorship, a bunch of planetarium shows and documentaries, a major science exhibit project, an upcoming vodcast series, and countless other projects later, here I am looking back with great fondness on the mission that set me on my way. So, here's a tip of the ol' scan platform to Voyager 2 and the planet Saturn for being there at the beginning of my own trajectory into astronomy and planetary science!
Just when we think we understand a little bit about our neck of the cosmic woods, something comes up that whacks us upside the head (in a nice way) and spurs lots of questions.
Take the planet Saturn, for example. We've all grown up being taught that this planet is a gas giant—made mostly of hydrogen gas, with varying amounts of helium, ammonia, nitrogen, methane, and other gases in its atmosphere. We've studied that atmosphere, charting storms that churn through it, and measuring temperature and wind speed variations. Heavy atmosphere, lots of round or semi-round storms in it, fast winds, and steadily thickening layers as you go down toward the core: that's what we pegged for Saturn.
Still, the nature of planetary science is to study planets—and keep studying them for long periods of time. Planets aren't static places, not even the "deadest" of them. Not by any means. They change over time, develop new features on their surfaces or in their atmosphees. And, their visible appearances don't always tell us the full story. Just look at Saturn with infrared eyes, sensitive to thermal radiation (heat), for example, and interesting features pop right into view.
There's this bizarre, six-sided feature that encircles the North Pole of the planet near 78 degrees north latitude, for example. It was actually discovered back in the 1980s by the Voyager spacecraft missions, but this is the first time we've been able to position a spacecraft (Cassini) in a good orbit to get a clear image of the thing. You can read more about the specifics of the image here, but suffice to say, this is the best view we've had of this atmospheric phenomenon ever. The hexagon of clouds is long-lived, so we'll have much more time to study it (at least as long as Cassini pipes images and data back). But what is it? There's nothing been seen like it at any other planet in our solar system, and nobody expected to see anything like it in Saturn's thick atmosphere, either. It's naturally occurring, so now the trick is to come up with a good atmospheric model that can explain the thing. There is a similar type of atmospheric phenomenon on Earth, called the polar vortex, so perhaps using that as a model, astronomers will be able to get a handle on Saturn's, which is four times the size of Earth.
I remember when Saturn used to be thought strange because it had rings. Now, it turns out that Jupiter, Uranus, and Neptune have rings. And, in the distant past, Earth might have had one, too. What else will we learn about our solar system before we think we can say we know it all??
I spent last weekend in Middle Earth. More correctly, I spent the weekend watching the extended DVD editions of the Lord of the Rings trilogy of movies, something I've been wanting to do since I got the set for Christmas. Great movies, lots of action and beautiful scenery and incredible CG work on the battle scenes. I was in hog heaven.
Today I got to check out another Lord of the Rings—the great and beauteous planet Saturn. Thanks to Hubble Space Telescope, it's now a movie star. Today the Space Telescope Science Institute released its own set of movies about Saturn, all based on images taken by HST over the past few years. They show ring plane crossing, some of the Moons, and some atmospheric features as the planet spins on its axis.
Astronomers took dozens of images of Saturn over the years, using the Wide Field and Planetary Camera 2 and the Advanced Camera for Surveys. These images were strung together and animated to give us these three wonderful videos.
The best part about this ongoing survey of Saturn is that it shows us the planet changing over time, at least in the atmosphere. It gives us all a chance to see Saturn's rings in different orientations as it (and we) orbit the Sun and our changing positions change our point of view. Go check 'em out and collect the set!
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