Category Archives: planetary science

How Time Flies

Twenty-three years ago this August, I covered my first planetary mission—the Voyager 2 flyby of Saturn—as a science correspondent for a newspaper. In a moment of sheer bravery, I approached the unknown of the outer solar system and found myself immersed in the fascinating scientific exploration of gas giant worlds. It’s fair to say that it changed my life in ways that are still to be measured. Today, a month or so short of the NEXT spacecraft to visit Saturn, there are so many things that are different about me, and I know there will be many new and different things scientists will find out about Saturn.

Saturn as seen by Voyager 2 in 1981, courtesy Solarviews
Saturn as seen by Voyager 2 in 1981, courtesy Solarviews

I don’t recall all the details of that first, frenzied week of science coverage back in 1981. Some images stand out in my mind: the first picture of the moon Enceladus, for example, and the worried looks on scientists’ faces when the camera scan platform jammed. I remember driving up to Jet Propulsion Laboratory for the first time and just sitting there in the car, drinking in the sights and sounds of a place that, for me, still held all the excitement of the lunar missions and the Mars explorations of the Viking era. I remember feeling slightly in awe of the scientists who carefully explained the images we were seeing, and even MORE in awe of the science writers around me, who seemed to be part of an exclusive club.

They welcomed me into that club, and I am proud to know and call “colleague” many of today’s best science writers. But back then, I was the equivalent of a college freshman, going to her first classes and hoping that she wouldn’t do the wrong thing or ask a stupid question. I grew up as a science writer during those planetary missions, learning from the best; ultimately I covered Voyager encounters of Saturn, Uranus, and Neptune, and a couple of Mars missions: Pathfinder and the ill-fated Polar Lander. Each time I’d head out to JPL like a moth to a flame and spend days and weeks learning more about planetary science each time.

Saturn as seen by Cassini, courtesy Cassini Mission.
Saturn as seen by Cassini, courtesy Cassini Mission.

To be sure, in between times, I went back to school, studied planetary science more formally (along with astronomy and geology), and each time, the sessions at JPL became more like seminars where I could learn the “real world” examples of the things I studied in the classroom.

Sure, this is all about me right now—and MY experiences. You can find countless sites (like the two above) that discuss the science of these missions in more detail than I have room for in this little blog. But here, for me, it’s personal, because Voyager brought me more than Saturn: it opened my eyes to new ideas, new thoughts, a career that I hadn’t seriously considered before, and ultimately, new directions in life, new paths upon which I still trek. Science is great that way. It leads you to discovery; oftentimes it’s not always the discovery you expected.

All these Worlds…

In Arthur C. Clark’s novel, 2010, the story ends with a warning to humans ready to explore the Jovian moons: “All these worlds are yours — except Europa. Attempt no landings there.” In the next book, we learn that life has made a foothold on this icy-looking world.

Science fiction or science fact? It is possible that life could exist in water oceans beneath the thin ice crust of this little moon. Is it probable? We don’t know.

Conamara Chaos on Europa
Conamara Chaos on Europa

The Voyager and Galileo missions have mapped this world extensively, studying its icy surface. In the image shown here (taken by the Galileo spacecraft’s cameras), we see an area on Europa called the Conamara region. It is basically a frozen set of “ice rafts” created when large blocks of ice were disrupted during an impact. After the ripples from the crash died down, these “rafts” and criss-crossed cracks froze into place on the little moon’s surface. This event formed a crater Pwyll, which lies 1000 kilometers (640 miles) away.

Beneath this jumbled icy terrain lies an ocean of what is probably slushy ice water. At the core of this tiny world, there could be heat — generated by the continual and combined tidal pull of Jupiter on one side of Europa and the outer moons on the other side. If there IS heat at the center of this watery world, it’s possible that life could survive there. But, for now, we don’ t know if there are any Europan life forms colonizing these oceans. That discovery awaits future visits by robotic spacecraft, and eventually — human explorers.