My thanks to Mark Evans who not only flew over from Oman for a course, but also sent me this great time lapse photo from Oman.

Mark is the General Manager of Outward Bound Oman, which does not sound like the worst job in the world to me! Outward Bound Oman, under Mark’s leadership, is teaching young Omanis many outdoor skills, including traditional methods of desert navigation.

Time for a bit of fun. Which way are we looking in this picture and why?

Answers by email please. I’ll post the correct answer in a couple of days.

Update.12/05/11.

We are looking just south of west. approx 255 degrees. Orion’s belt can be seen setting about one third the way in from the right. The arcing to the right is anticlockwise around the North Celestial Pole, to the left the stars are arcing clockwise around the South Celestial Pole. The few stars that appear to be moving in a straight line are marking the celestial equator and where they cross the horizon (the imaginary sea level one) will be due west.

One way we can tell it is west, not east, is because of the shape of Orion: the bright orange Betelgeuse (Beetlejuice) of the hunter’s top left shoulder is above his belt. Other stars visible include the brightest of the lot, Sirius (half way in and low), Procyon (half way in and high), Castor and Pollux (top right, behind tent cord) among others.

Well done to those who got it. Better luck to those who were only out by 180 degrees, bizarre though it sounds you were closer to the right answer than if you had said north or south.

For three years I have been pondering how to solve a tricky riddle. There are so many people who would love to learn about the night sky, but it is very hard to organise an outdoor course for this in this country because the weather is so unreliable. I need to sort the dates for my courses at least a few weeks in advance and it is impossible to predict the conditions that far away. Also, the best times of the year for star, moon and planet-gazing are not the best times for weather. Mid-summer is great for many outdoor activities, but with the late sunsets it is not perfect for stars.

The solution, it dawned on me (pehaps I should say dusked?) is to create a club for those who are interested and then, when the conditions are right I will let everyone know where and when I will be for a couple of hours of guided stargazing. There will be no charge – as there will be no guarantees – but I should be able to give a couple of days notice in most cases and less in a few. Most of these will take place in the South Downs in West Sussex, but I will also endeavour to host a couple of nights when out and about in other parts of the UK or perhaps, in time, abroad. All you need to do to join this club is to come on one of my courses, public or private.

Last night the visibility was great and we enjoyed the nearly full moon, Gemini, Pegasus, Taurus, the Plough, the North Star, Cassiopeia, Jupiter, Cygnus, Auriga, Orion and probably quite a few others! In total we looked at five different ways of finding north from the stars and many other techniques for finding direction.

I took the picture of the moon above last night. It is full today and so was one day off full last night, but it does look quite full. It goes to show how tricky it can be to tell the difference between phases precisely. Everyone can get very close, but I do not know of anyone in the world who can, without fail, gauge the phase of the moon to the day just by looking at it. This has implications for using the slightly involved ‘phase method’ of finding direction (see the book), as for each day you are out in your estimation of the moon’s phase this can throw your estimation of direction out by 12 degrees.

Here is a bit of a red herring from a navigation point of view, but fun all the same… When I was going through my photos this morning I was about to delete an unsteady one of Jupiter (the second one shown here), when I hesitated because I spotted something that jumped out at me. Below the bright Jupiter and in a crooked line there are four stars, but just above them and to the right of Jupiter there is a very small blue smudge. This, as I hoped and suspected, was Uranus. It was not visible to the naked eye last night, but showed up on the longer exposure of this photo. A lovely small ‘discovery’ to start the day with. Not sure my name will go down there with Herschel’s though!

This morning I enjoyed a view of Orion, Sirius, Leo, which has just marched ahead of the dawn sun now, and a few other players. I took this photo of Orion’s Sword hanging down to the left (eastern) side of a large beech tree and dangling down towards the south, as it does. The ‘smudge’ in the middle is the Great Nebula in Orion, also known less romantically as ‘M42′. It is a ‘stellar nursery’ where new stars are born. Would a more appropriate term not be a ‘stellar maternity ward’?

On a different subject, my best wishes and good luck to Kevin Shannon who is attempting a zero-emissions circumnavigation of the globe. He asked me for my thoughts, and here they are (co-posted on his blog too):

“Emerging Expeditions

I met Kevin at the Outdoors Show in Birmingham in March and remember our encounter well, which, considering that I met at least two thousand people in three days, must say something about Kevin and his unusual project. I am lucky in that my work allows me to cross paths with a wonderfully varied crowd. Some of the paths are on the ridges of windswept mountains and others run through the Birmingham NEC, but even with the variety that comes from walking through wildernesses and urban jungles, there was something about Kevin’s expedition that resonated, something that kept it in my mind.

Modern expeditions tend to strive for a ‘noteworthy audaciousness’: the fastest, the youngest, the first all-female team to reach… This is often driven by a need for sponsorship, but also, if we are honest it is because nobody likes to risk their life, or livelihood or even just their time and effort for something that may go entirely unnoticed. We all like to leave a mark of some sort. From the boldest adventurers to timid individuals, everyone lives in fear of their short time on this planet going completely unnoticed. Increasing numbers are choosing to battle this fear by throwing fear at it and there is vast range in the methods people are choosing. From racing to the North Pole to queuing at X-Factor auditions.

What I like about Kevin’s expedition is that its noteworthiness comes from stripping something away. In his case emissions have been stripped away, but I think this may prove to be part of a significant trend and I am not referring to the climate here. The expeditions of the future may strive for noteworthiness by embracing minimalism, not by adding bells and whistles. In time I think the minimalism may come to include the scale of the expedition itself, but it is not quite time for that yet. This is something that a man who has set out to circumnavigate the globe will be most aware of.

Good Luck Kevin!”

My thanks to Kevan Hubberd for sending in the idea about using Orion’s Sword as a way of finding south.

Orion’s Sword can be seen in the image to the left as the short vertical line of ‘stars’ under Orion’s Belt.

The Sword does indeed point to a spot on the horizon that is close to due south when the Sword is near vertical (as in this image), but it is a less dependable guide when it is well off-vertical, ie. when it is lower in the sky.

Technical bit for natural navigation zealots only: The reason that the Sword is more accurate when vertical is that it makes a line in the sky that is parallel to the line towards the south celestial pole. When vertical this line intersects with the horizon at a point very close to due south, but at times when the sword is closer to the horizon, ie. closer to east or west, then the point of intersection will also mover closer to east or west respectively. The extreme would be the moment when the sword rises in the east or sets in the west.

Bonus trivia: The Orion Nebula, a region of massive star formation, can be seen as the bright orange ball that forms the middle of the three ‘stars’ of the sword. NB. It is not the huge bright orange star to the top left, that is Orion’s shoulder and is called Betelgeuse or ‘Beetlejuice’, from the Arabic words for ‘giant’s shoulder’.

“He stood and carefully examined the sky, to ascertain the time of night from the altitudes of the stars. The Dog-star and Alderbaran, pointing to the restless Pleiades, were halfway up the Southern sky ,and between them hung Orion, which gorgeous constellation never burnt more vividly than now, as it soared forth above the rim of the landscape. Castor and Pollux with their quiet shine were almost on the meridian: the barren gloomy square of Pegasus was creeping round to the north-west; far away through the plantation Vega sparkled like a lamp suspended amid the leafless trees, and Cassiopeia’s chair stood daintily poised on the uppermost boughs. ‘One o’clock,’ said Gabriel.”

…

“The sky was clear – remarkably clear – and the twinkling of all the stars seemed to be but throbs of one body, timed by a common pulse. The North Star was directly in the wind’s eye, and since evening the Bear had swung round it outwardly to the east, till he was now at a right angle with the meridian. A difference of colour in the stars – oftener read of than seen in England – was really perceptible here. The sovereign brilliancy of Sirius pierced the eye with steely glitter, the star called Capella was yellow, Alderbaran and Betelgeux shone with a fiery red.
To persons standing alone on a hill during a clear midnight such as this, the roll of the world eastward is almost a palpable movement. The sensation may be caused by the panoramic glide of the stars past earthly objects, which is perceptible in a few minutes of stillness, or by the better outlook upon space that a hill affords, or by the wind, or by the solitude; but whatever be its origin, the impression of riding along is vivid and abiding. The poetry of motion is a phrase much in use, and to enjoy the epic form of that gratification it is necessary to stand on a hill at a small hour of the night, and, having first expanded with a sense of difference from the mass of civilized mankind, who are dreamwrapt and disregardful of all such proceedings at this time, long and quietly watch your stately progress through the stars. After such a nocturnal reconnoiter it is hard to get back to earth, and to believe that the consciousness of such majestic speeding is derived from a tiny human frame.”

I will try not to spoil the moment by pointing out that if Castor and Pollux were ‘almost on the meridian’ then it would be hard to see the square of Pegasus in the way that Hardy describes. I will try but fail. Rare is the fiction writer who has ever attempted to portray the night sky without betraying their lack of fundamental understanding. Hardy’s efforts are much better than most, as you might expect from a literary giant. So few writers appreciate that the stars, if described in detail, must be fixed in time, both nightly and annual, as well as in direction. There is nothing casual or random in the appearance of the night sky at all. Fortunately the errors are rarely obvious enough to spoil a good story!

I adore the Witterings in winter, the barbecue and beach towels may have to stay at home but it is invigorating to get blown along on miles of abandoned sand. In between games of hide and seek amongst the beach huts, games of football on the sticky sand and races to pieces of seaweed, I noticed some interesting patterns in the sand.

This photo shows how there tend to be broad ripples parallel to the coastline itself, but closer inspection reveals more subtle patterns and these can be used to decipher the action of the water and therefore yield more clues to direction. The ripples of sand fan out over the small hills that are exposed at low water. There are tight-packed parallel ridges where the water action is uniform, but a more confused system of diamonds where incoming water meets the returning undercurrent from earlier waves. All of these patterns can be used by walkers in low visibility to orientate themselves, if the sound of the water is not helping, but they can also be used by divers searching for a clue to the direction of coast in low visiblity.

If the sky is clear we will get a very good view of Mars in the east in the early evening. Sitting between the constellations of Leo (easy to find) and Cancer (hard to find), it will be rising about thirty degrees north of east at dusk and pass through due east at 8.30pm. By then Orion, below the high moon, will have moved to occupy a large part of the southern sky. If you follow Orion’s belt down to nearer the horizon then low in the southeast you will see the brightest star of them all, Sirius.

If you do happen to be awake late, then Mars will have moved to be due south and high in the sky by 1am. By this time the moon will have begun its steep descent in the west. If you are enjoying this in fresh air then you will either be very cold, or the owner of some excellent outdoor kit.

The moment a celestial object reaches its highest point in the sky it will be due north or south. Simples! As those meerkats like to say. Well, the principle is beautifully simple, but the practice is a bit more involved. Hence the use of shadow sticks, and sextants for that matter.

I woke up in the middle of the night and couldn’t go back to sleep. Some compensation was to be found outside, with a beautiful view of Orion, Sirius and Venus. All three have historically had some significance. Both Orion and Sirius have been used as seasonal markers, the ‘heliacal rising’ of Sirius being used as a forecast for flooding of the Nile in ancient Egypt. Orion is still known as a winter constellation in the northern hemisphere. The references to Venus are legion and include its use by the Maya to time the start of wars (see Anthony Aveni’s excellent book, ‘People and the Sky‘, for more on that.)

The picture is of Venus rising in the east-northeast just before five this morning, it took many attempts to get this photo as a cold wind kept rattling the tripod and its owner.

One of the many aspects of natural navigation that keeps me enthralled is that it never disappoints seasonally. As the warmth, light and ease of summer recedes, the stargazing options multiply.

We were put through a gentle rinse and spin cycle as what felt like typical cold front conditions mixed things up, sunshine and cold rain wrestling each other throughout an enjoyable afternoon. The skies matured into a more settled pattern towards the end of the day and allowed us a clear view of an incandescent Venus and later the stars, including the ones we needed most: the plough, polaris, auriga, Cassiopeia and Orion.