October 12, 1605 Wendelin at Forcalquier in Provence saw the whole Sun hidden apart from a very narrow thread towards the north, which ascribed to the illuminated atmosphere. Refers to a solar eclipse at Forcalquier, France, of 12 October 1605. Wendelin (also Vendelinus – on the moon, or official name Wendelen Govaart) was born in Herk-de-Stad, Belgium, the same town as were I was born. In 1980 I co-organized the Year of Wendelen in Herk-de-stad to celebrate his 400 st birthday. October 12, 1605 This occurrence of saros 137 was observable from London with a m. 901 shortly after noon. Preceding this by 15 days, on the evening of Sep 27 a Partial Lunar Eclipse was also observable from London. It is these two Eclipses that most authorities believe Shakespeare refers to in Act I, scene ii, lines 112-113 of King Lear when the Earl of Gloucester despairing of the coming disorder attributes it to these late Eclipse in the Sun and Moon portend no good to us.. In the same scene Edmund, the bastard son of Gloucester, discusses these eclipses saying My father compounded with my mother under the Dragons Tail and my nativity was under Ursa Major, so that it follows I am rough and lecherous. Fut I should have been that I am, had the maidenliest star of the Firmament twinkled on my bastardising. The solar eclipse of 12th October fell within one degree of longitude of Spica, the brightest star in the constellation of the Virgin and hence the maidenliest star in the firmament. Ref. PN. 10/99. Great Britain did not adopt the Gregorian calendar until 1752, nearly 170 years after most of western Europe adopted it on October 15, 1582. Thus, the date on the Julian calendar in England of the 66% partial lunar eclipse was Sept. 17, 1605 and the 90% solar eclipse followed on Oct. 2, 1605. The solar eclipse was total and the 13th member of saros 137. This eclipse was total. October 12, 1983 Minor Planet (5424) Covington 1983 TN1. Discovered 1983 October 12 by E. Bowell at Anderson Mesa. Named in honor of Arthur Covington, Canadas first radio astronomer. His discovery, during the partial solar eclipse of 1946 Nov. 23, that microwave emission was far more intense from the vicinity of sunspots than elsewhere on the sun, was the first indicator that magnetic fields were important in the generation of nonthermal cosmic radio emission. In 1947 Covington inaugurated at the National Research Council of Canada daily measurements of the solar microwave flux at 10.7 cm. (M 23541) Name suggested and citation prepared by C. J. Cunningham. October 12, 1983 Minor planet (8472) Tarroni 1983 TC. Discovered 1983 October 12 at the Osservatorio San Vittore at Bologna. Named in memory of the Italian amateur astronomer Gino Tarroni (1958-1986), a member of the Sezione Astrofili dellUniversità Popolare Sestrese. A fine observer of the sun, he was in charge of the solar section of the Unione Astrofili Italiani, and he served as secretary of the Unione for the four years preceding his tragic death in a road accident. Tarroni also had interests in speleology and mountain climbing October 12, 1955 Birthday of eclipse chaser and astronomer Glenn Schneider, Arizona USA. October 12, 1996 Partial Solar Eclipse 12 October 1996. Cezme, Turkey, General: Time 15h03m, Alt. 06 degrees, Saros 153, 46.4 % (Max 75.7 %). Turkish Delight - The Partial Solar Eclipse of 12 October 1996 From the Grith Observatory magazine: Patrick Poitevin is one of those international agents of eclipse enforcement. He tracks them down all over the globe and arrests them on film. Last October, he had to hotfoot it over half of Turkey to arrest syzygy at sunset. The fugitive eclipse almost made a clean getaway, but two hours before first contact, Mr. Poitevin caught the sun in the open. On 12 October 1996, as the partially eclipsed sun made a stand over the Greek Island of Chios, Mr. Poitevin watched from the Ionian shore. Dr. Ed Krupp wrote in the Griffith Observer July 1997. Although I knew the partial solar eclipse of 12 October 1996 would be visible from my home country, Belgium. I preferred to observe it at sunset. That shadow of the moon was scheduled to fail upon the earth first in northern Hudson Bay, where it would coincide with sunrise, and after passing across Canada, the north Atlantic, and Europe, it would occur at sunset in the Middle East. Accordingly, I decided to sidestep Spitsbergen (part of Norwegian Arctic island dependency in the Greenland Sea), Finland, Poland, Greece, and Israel, and targeted Turkey. I had nver been to Turkey before, and the price of the flight was right. I arrived in Istanbul, Turkey, on Monday 7 October 1996. The sky was overcast, and it didnt look like the heavy clouds were going to leave any time soon. I tried to find weather forecasts for Istanbul and the rest of the country, but there seemed to be little local interest in the weather. Mosques and other tourist attractions were the main topics in the media, and naturally - but unfortunately - most people spoke Turkish, which I dont speak. I could have conversed with people in English, German, or French, but few Turks understood those languages. Undaunted by language and clouds, I began to evaluate the two separate strategies I had devised to meet the eclipse. In plan A, I would travel est, across the top of the Anatolian peninsula, along the coast of the Black Sea, and watch the eclipse at about magnitude .50 (half of the diameter in eclipse) at sunset on the southwest shore. I caught trains and buses and steadily moved east toward Zonguldak (latitude 41 degrees 26 minutes north, longitude 31 degrees 47 minutes east), which was about 217 miles from the Bosporus. The more I traveled in that direction, the worse the weather turned. Even on the train, rain water sometimes poured onto my head. I abandoned plan A and switched to pan B. I decided to reroute my eclipse path and aim for Kayseri, in the middle of the country. I thought I would try to reach the volcano Erciyes Dag, for I figured the volcanos summit would provide an exquisite view of the western horizon. The weather in that direction was just as bad, however. Local newspapers carried weather reports, but they didnt seem to be realiable. I decided I should develop plan C. My only chance, I judged, would be a location to the west, on the lonian coast. There was more sun showing on that side of Turkey, if the weather reports were true. By then I had to race-hopping buses and trains-to reach the Mediterranean in time for sunset. Some local people told me I would arrive at the coast, at the fishing village of Cesme (latitude 38 degrees, 19 minutes, 31 seconds, north, longitude 26 degrees, 18 minutes, 9 seconds east) by 6.00 in the morning on the day of the eclipse. Others said I wouldnt get there until 9.00 am. Neither estimate seemed to matter much, for the trip was just slow. The train pulled into the station at about noon, and I jumped onto a bus which carried me to the outer corner of the little peninsula that extends west of Izmir. I arrived in Cesme only two hours before first contact. The sky was wonderfully clear and beautifully blue. All I needed was a good spot to watch. So I stormed into a three-floor hotel and insisted on a room with a view toward the sea. Then minutes after I reached the room, I had the instruments unpacked and prepared to go. It was an incredible race, but the view was gorgeous. It seemed like a dream after all of the trouble I experienced the day before, I forgot, however, all of those frustrating complications and watched the sky. An old Flemish proverb confirms, Luck is for the pigs. I was glad to be a pig. Cesme hosts a medieval castle and is name for the therapeutic hot springs in the area. The Greek island Chios is directly to the west, and my eclipse would gradually descend behind the island. By first contact, at 14 hours 0 minutes 15 seconds Universal time, the sun was 18 degrees above the horizon. The solar prominence filter loaned to me by my friend Derryl Barr in Nebraska, was acclimated. The sun, however, was not active. No sunspots or prominences were visible. The magnitude of Cesmes maximum eclipse was calculated to be 0.464, and at the maximum eclipse, the sun was six degrees above the flat horizon. Because the filter reduced the brightness of the image so much, I switched to the solar-screen. As the sun fell lower and fainter, I observed with the pre-filter of the prominence filter. Finally, I jettisoned all filters and stayed on the suns trail until 15 hours 36 minutes Universal Time, when I lost the partially-eclipsed disk behind the silhouette of Chios. It was a beautiful partial solar eclipse. I am indebted to Derryl Barr for all of his effort in getting the solar filter and accessories to me. Had I seen sunspots and prominences, I would have used this equipment to measure their size. This partial solar eclipse was the nineteenth solar eclipse I had seen - the eighth in a continuouus string. I havent missed any since 1993that time.
Posted on: Sun, 12 Oct 2014 18:59:17 +0000
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