A brief history in time
Creating awareness comes in many forms. I grew up in the heart of a small town called Johor Bahru in peninsula Malaysia, the last place one would associate with stargazing. Granted the skies were much darker back in the early 80s. What one needs is a primer to get the ball rolling, that "spark" that lights the fire for the first time, igniting that passion. Many baby boomers were inspired by the rocket launch, and when Neil Armstrong first plants the American flag on the moon. A truly life changing event. My start was less spectacular. Not being born in that era, my starcraze was ignited after a trip to the cinema. Watching Star Wars on the big screen left an indelible mark on a very young and impressionable 5 year old. Growing up in the 70s and 80s was a very different experience compared to growing up in the current hi-tech era. As kids, we were not afraid to get our hands and feet dirty, exploring the world around us. I was one such kid. There were two things very close to my heart, and my parents fed my fascination and enthusiasm. My two favorite subjects as a child were dinosaurs and stars. I guess that natural scientific inquisitiveness was what led me to my current occupation as a neuroscientist. I spent my formative years reading up every book I could get my hands on about dinosaurs and about the night sky. I knew every dinosaur and their stats as well as I knew the constellations. Every waking moment of my young life was spent burying chicken bones and plastic dinosaur skeletons in my grandma's front yard pretending to be the famous archeologists Dr Indiana Jones, yet another big influence on my childhood aspirations. But it was stargazing that stayed with me to adulthood.
In the beginning
The early years saw me doing a ton of solo observations as I honed my star hopping and sketching skills. But being human, I also yearned to share my experiences with others. Fortunately a few of my middle school classmates also shared this feeling, and we did have occasional star gatherings, be it in my front yard where we would spread out a white tarp my dad used for painting to a cleared forested area for new housing development. Those were the days where all we had were my Celestron Cometron CO 40, my dad's 20x50 and my buddies 7x50 and 60mm terrestrial zoom telescope. We did have a lot of fun looking at the moon and planets. We even spent some time with the brighter deep sky objects like M42, M45, M8, M17, M22, M13, M6, M7 and Omega Centauri. I still fondly remember those times with Kai Chuan, Jan Choon, Wei Yang, Ju Nien, Ganesh, Aik Choon, Basil, Kok Wah and Choon Chye. Although we never got everyone together in one session, we shared some great times sitting on our swing and using the frame to steady our binoculars or lying down on the tarp and looking overhead with the refractor. Being one to always experiment, I even took constellation portraits with my dad's Nikkormat manual camera, using a shutter release and Fujifilm ISO400. To me that was the start of social observation and public outreach, well sort of anyways.
Many years would pass before I get back into the hobby that once occupied a large chunk of my adolescence. The combination of two bright naked eye comets in 1996 Hyakutake and 1997 Hale Bopp, and the darker skies of my adopted second home in Brisbane, Australia brought about a second coming. I purchased a rather cheap Hanimex 10x50 and this served as my main piece of equipment from 1997 to 2001. Again this was a period that saw me observe solo as I rediscovered the joys of observing. Through this instrument, I spied objects too far south from my home at the equator. NGC5128 NGC4945, 47Tucana and the Carina Nebula were the staples in my frequently visited list. Astronomy took a brief hiatus from end of 1998 to early 2001 when I made a trip home to work. Observing took off in a big way when I moved back to Brisbane in 2001.
The second coming
My move back to the dark southern skies in Brisbane brought about a second coming. I was raring to get back into the game in a big way. Started with a 76mm alt az newtonian and quickly graduated to a 150mm. I did most of my initial observing from my apartment balcony on the third floor. But I wanted more. I was yearning to be amongst like minded people. I was also looking for a way to go deeper, to get under dark skies. The best first step was joining an online community. So much has changed since the mid 90s. Due to the explosion of the internet, the world suddenly became a much smaller place. I was no longer alone in the wide world of amateur astronomy. This online gateway led me to my first real observational astronomy mate, and lifelong friend Andrew Durick. Andrew was as passionate as they came, and he was was a human GOTO like me. In fact we were called just that, human star hopping machines. Who needs Celestron NexStar when you have a celestial database in your head. Andrew also introduced David Ridgley to me, yet another amazing astronomer. David was more of an astrophotography enthusiast and he was the one we all envied. He had all the good stuff. Meeting Andrew and David changed the way I observed forever. The camaraderie we shared for a decade of my adult observing life would shape the way I thought of social Astronomy and Outreach forever. It was with this dynamic duo that introduced me to outback astronomy and the Southern Astronomical Society. Leyburn allowed me to really unfurl and spread my observing wings as I soared among the southern skies and collected one deep sky treasure after another, forever etched in graphite and my memory. With Andrew, David, Kevin Dixon and Ray Suckling, I had found my true astronomical posse. We shared many a story of the great aboriginal celestial emu and other assorted stories whilst staring through Outreach extraordinaire Kevin Dixons 16" home built truss scope. It was Kevin who introduced me to a plethora of new and old gems. I spent a great amount of time at the eyepiece.
The fellowship I felt was infectious. Branching out with Andrew, I went observing with two different groups of astronomers. We would travel to the Sunshine Coast to Ron's home in the hinterlands up north, and also inland to our intermediate dark sky at Mark's place at Glenore Grove. We bonded over BBQ and beer at Ron's, whilst drinking in the views through our own scopes and through Ron's 16" truss, and over burgers and chips at Mark's shack. All fond memories. Such inspirational get togethers gave me an urge to try real outreach with laypeople with no background in stargazing. Armed with the knowledge from how introduce basic concepts from Kevin, I setup shop at local parks and also Mount Cootha. I usually had my trusty C6 with Orion 80ST. My first target group was my immediate group of friends from grad school. I usually start with bright bright solar system objects such as the moon and planet's. Jupiter and Saturn were always a hit. The first view of Saturn's rings never fails to elicit oohs and aahs and questions like is that even real? I still remember getting goosebumps the first time I spied Saturn through my small refractor. And there is a plethora of bright southern sky gems to demonstrate, such as Eta Carina and surrounds, Omega Centauri, Tarantula, the Lagoon, the Swan and 47 Tucana. I managed to successfully convert two of my friends. Both of them followed me on my wild adventures to Mark's place at Glenore Grove and also to Leyburn. My proudest moment came when John and Yixin decided to join me for Queenslands finest star party, Queensland Astrofest at Camp Duckadang. Being out under dark skies surrounded by by all manner of telescopes, and astronomers of all ages and creed is the epitome of social astronomy. These two cherished experiences would stay with me forever.
After I left uni life and grad school, I continued the tradition of social outreach, this time sharing my love for our home galaxy and the infinite universe above with my colleagues at Sullivan Nicolaides. We spent some enjoyable evenings under the stars at Robertson Park, a stones throw from our lab. Outreach with a 250mm dobsonian makes for an interesting conversation.
The third coming
The winds of change were blowing yet again. Just when I thought we were set and that I could live my life out under my dream southern skies, an opportunity I could not ignore came a knocking. It's not everyday you get an opportunity for five years of funding to pursue your dream postdoctoral research, and at UCLA no less. Needless to say we moved in a heart beat and uprooted our home to the northern hemisphere. A new sky was there for the plundering. Our move also saw the birth of our beautiful baby girl. As a result astronomy took a temporary backseat, but not for that long.
Observing went back to the basics again for the first two years in Los Angeles. I flew solo from my light drenched university apartment playground. My observing gear was limited to what I could carry down two flights of stairs. Needless to say my observations were limited to bright objects. My first dark sky encounter happened when my baby went home for her first birthday and I was due to fly back a month later. I made the trek to Mount Pinos, and was once again among the like-minded. But real social astronomy was still out of reach. Turns out the astronomers I met on the mountain were more of the solo variety. But another twist to my story was just around the corner. Whilst walking down to Westwood Boulevard, I bumped into someone who would become a good friend and great observing buddy Terry Nakazono, doing outreach of all things. Turns out Terry was really passionate about sidewalk astronomy and outreach. He would be there every first quarter moon with his Orion 80ST, allowing curious passersbys views of la luna. His enthusiasm was infectious, and I found myself being drawn into his world. This is the first time I was really able to commune with the laypeople, people of whom I have no affiliation with. I found this to be very liberating. Terry became my observing buddy and we shared some astounding observing sessions at Mount Pinos, and Solstice Canyon in Malibu.
After my five years was up at UCLA, we uprooted and moved yet again to Northern California for work. The cycle began yet again. I quickly found a new observing and imaging site. However I have yet to find an observing partner. But I think I might have found one in my best friend Janice.
Parting thoughts
It's poetic justice that as I pen this piece, I am reading a revised version of The Light Hearted Astronomer by Ken Fulton. In the updated portion, Ken interviews his old friend Delgarno and they have a discussion about social outreach and the state of amateur astronomy, and how they think astronomy is dying. My personal experience shows a similar trend of the aging of our astronomy community. Social outreach has never been more critical to the survival of our hobby. So as a fellow amateur, I implore you to use whatever opportunity to reach out to the younger generation to spread the word. Outreach is possible in this current pandemic. Talk to your friends and family online. See if they have optical equipment. Walk them through the night sky. In this age of connectivity, apps like Whatsapp and FaceTime, coupled with a stargazing app, it is possible to conduct an online session.
