First Light

I will let you in on a little secret. While I often write with absolute authority on a wide range of topics, from ocean currents to materials science to space plumbing, I am not really what you would call an expert on any of them. In fact, I often know no more about the subject than you, oh trusted and loyal reader, until 30 minutes previous when I first find the cool online article which I choose to share with you. But today the topic is telescopes, at last something I know a great deal about. I would go so far as to call myself an expert, if it were not for the very high astronomer readership I have (second only to repeat murderers) who actually know true telescope experts. Still, as far as the general public goes, I am in fact a legitimate, certified, doctorized and astronomerated expert. So you can trust me now.

Also, a warning. If you thought I was long-winded before wait until you see me with something to say. If curious only about house and babies, you may want to scroll a bit.

"First light" is an astronomical term referring to a critical stage in the development of a new telescopes which has almost mythic importance in the astronomical community. You can think of it like the Annunciation, where the Archangel Gabriel came unto Mary to tell her she would soon bear the son of God. Only Gabriel would be an email with data attachments and Mary would be a overworked grad student who is not going to get to even use the new telescope. And in this scenario I guess the son of God would be... The telescope? Or maybe grant money? A late night mochachino for the grad student? All right, I have completely lost control of the metaphor, but you get the point. It is a big deal.

First light is the first time the telescope is pointed at the sky and light from some distant astronomical source is bounced through all of the optics and onto some sort of detector. Modern telescope optical trains can be very complicated things and there is no guarantee that you will see anything, having bounced the light off one too many slightly misaligned mirrors. Generally a tremendous amount of work must be done to tune and optimize a new telescope after first light, but a successful one usually marks the beginning of the home stretch of telescope production. Last Saturday the latest record holder for world's largest single optical telescope, the Great Canary Telescope, finally saw its first light.

With a diameter of 10.4 meters, this new telescope sitting at 7900 feet atop a dormant volcano in the Canary Islands edges out the present dual record holders, the two 10-meter Keck Telescopes sitting on their own dormant volcano, Mauna Kea, in Hawaii. Astronomers like dormant island volcanos, because they rise up so dramatically, giving us the high altitudes we like to work at without the difficulty of access one has trying to reach the center of a major mountain chain, like say the Rockies or the Himalayas. Generally much better weather as well. You may note I said dormant, not extinct. The geologists tell us that despite that unnerving distinction the odds of these dormant volcanos reactivating is practically negligible. Of course the geologists may simply be harboring some deep resentment about never getting the top story offices of physical science buildings:

Astronomer: We need those top story offices to stay close to our telescopes.

Geologist: Of course you do. Why don't you build your telescopes on those super-safe volcanos?

Astronomer: Are you sure they are safe?

Geologist: Positive.

The size of the World's Largest Telescope has been creeping upwards since the days of Galileo, whose first telescopes (circa 1609) had a diameter around an inch. For the next three centuries, astronomy was dominated by what we would call amateurs today: wealthy men working by themselves and building their own telescopes. Since these brilliant men (and women... but that is a topic for another day) refused to live forever their telescopes would often die with them, making the size of the world's largest telescope vacillate a bit. For instance, William Herschel held the record with his 48-inch telescope from 1789-1815. A telescope that big was not used again until 1845, when Lord Rosse built his Leviathan (actual name; it is pictured here) a 6 foot telescope in Ireland, possibly the worst place in the entire world to put a telescope. The Leviathan was abandoned in 1878.



In 1908 the title of World's Largest Telescope went to Caltech and its 60 inch Mt. Wilson telescope, beginning the modern age of institution-dominated astronomy. Caltech Astronomy in one way or another kept this title until 3 days ago. A 100-inch telescope was built on Mt. Wilson in 1917, followed 30 years later by the incredible 5-meter (200 inch) Palomar telescope, which was so ahead of its time that it remained the premier world telescope until the early 1990s. It is pictured here with rows of seats tucked underneath its behemoth frame. For completeness I must mention that the Soviets built a 6-meter telescope at Mt Pashtoukov in the Caucasus in the mid-70s, but its optics were never up to snuff and it way underperformed Palomar. In 1992 the twin 10-meter Keck telescopes, 50% owned and controlled by Caltech, were built using a revolutionary segmented mirror design. Instead of one mirror, it put together 36 hexagonal mirrors in a honeycomb-style pattern. Using computers to control each little mirror, the whole set of mirrors could act like a single mirror of unprecedented size. So successful was this design that it is exactly how the present record holder, the GranTeCan, was also designed.



Caltech is unlikely to let this slight go unchallenged. In fact they are one of the primary players in the development of the Thirty Meter Telescope (TMT), which could receive its First Light by as early as 2016. But don't hold your breath, as they have not even picked the site yet.



With a holy reverence similar to the first light phenomenon I approach the actual physical appearance of the architectural structure we have been planning for approximately forever. In what seemed a very short time the walls have gone up. Our house has entirely new rooms. The backyard has a whole new space. It is actually pretty damn cool.



In commemoration of all this new square footage I will not bitch and/or moan. We will just pan around the structure, starting at the future site of the backdoor next to the kitchen, around the back of the new addition, and then up the sides of the house.



The addition with its two stories is so large it is a little difficult getting it all into the frame. I can say from seeing it in person that I really love the space it is creating, particularly in the shade of the tree it almost wraps around.



The funny box you can see from this angle is actually our water heater. I find this "tankless" water heater to be ultra-cool. It only heats water you are going to use and is so small you can strap it to your house like a tiny backpack. Only drawback: they cost something like 3-4 times as much as a traditional water heater. Hopefully that cost will eventually come down, as they are big energy savers. In theory anyway. I have yet to use it. My water might always be cold, which will result in a complete recant of this section.

Well, this entry kinda ran on forever. I apologize. Hopefully if you don't find the history of telescopes interesting you skimmed down here to the good stuff. Believe me, I could have gone on for a lot longer (refractor vs. reflector, equatorial vs. alt-azimuth mountings, radio vs. optical astronomy, etc). I can only imagine that you, like me, are just exhausted. So with no further ado, let me (and Kayla) bid you adieu.



Now get some rest!