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(meteorobs) Great Leonid Story
Here is a great Leonid story from a couple who live in Cedarville,
Ontario, Canada. If you appreciate their story drop them a note at:
fearwidg@compuserve.com
The 2001 Leonid Meteor Storm
When I was 9 years old, I stumbled onto a "Star Party" at the Canadian
National Exhibition in Toronto. A gruff old astronomer named Jesse
Ketchum asked if I wanted to see the rings of Saturn, so I took a look
into his telescope and was hooked on Astronomy for life (so far <g>.)
When I was 10, I joined the Royal Astronomical Society of Canada and
soon learned there were a group of amateur astronomers who specialized
in observing and counting meteors.
My first night collecting data for a Perseid meteor shower totally blew
me away - especially when I learned my name was to be published in "The
Journal of the Royal Astronomical Society of Canada."
Pretty heady stuff for a kid who hadn't hit his teens yet!
As I learned more about meteors, all the older Astronomers raved about a
night back in the thirties when meteors poured out of the sky. It was an
event unlike any other - An event they called, the Leonid Meteor Storm!
I missed the 1966 Storm because I was a teenager - I'd just got my first
car - and ... Well, I was a teenager.
Not that I missed much. I would have had to be at a very specific time
and place in Arizona to see a short lived, 1 hour storm. The Celestial
geometry wasn't very good in 1966.
Fast forward to 2001!
While it's true that the Leonids TEND to storm every 33 years, it hasn't
always been that exact. Sometimes the Storm came a year or two early ...
Sometimes a year or too late.
But by the late 1990's, several groups of Astronomers had a pretty good
idea what was going on out there in Space and their predictions were
becoming stunningly accurate.
In 2000, they had predicted a short lived but intense storm that could
be seen from Africa. The storm happened - and only 20 minutes off the
predicted time!
For 2001, the expert teams all agreed there would be two storm peaks - a
"minor" one that could be seen from North America - and a Major storm
that would be seen best over Western Australia.
One team estimated the North American peak would take place at 5:01 A.M.
EST in the pre dawn hours of November the 18th, 2001
A second team of Finnish Astronomers came up with a time of 5:30 A.M. -
Exactly!
As both these predictions seemed pretty close together, Michelle and I
decided we had a real chance of seeing a Meteor Storm ... If the weather
would let us.
And what a big IF that is in Canada ...
In November.
Incredibly - As the 18th got closer - the long range forecast kept
getting better and better. By Friday the 16th, they were calling for
clear skies and temperatures in the high Celsius teens - Astounding for
this time of year in Canada.
The only thing that worried me was all that warm moist air meant there
was a very real chance of FOG!
On Saturday, we scanned the internet weather sources diligently -
keeping our eye on a nasty curve of cloud just to the north that kept
looking like it might suddenly swerve south. But by late afternoon, it
became obvious that cloud deck would miss us - And all the forecasts
agreed - There would be nothing but clear skies over Southern Ontario!
So why then did my old aviator bones keep on telling me ... there's
going to be FOG?
However - We set up the telescope - intending to video tape the dark
side of the Moon in case impacting Leonids caused flashes our camera
could record (as other astronomers have done over the past two years.)
The sun sets before 5 p.m. in The Great White North - And as it grew
dark, the sky looked a little "milky" with moisture, BUT - it WAS clear
- So I dragged the loungers out into the field behind our house in
preparation for an event I had been waiting to see for 43 years!
It was at that precise moment when I noticed the nearby radio tower
seemed to have disappeared!
Huh?
Then - as I watched in utter horror, the stars started going out one by
one as FOG rolled in - THICK Fog - Fog that was obviously going to sit
right on top of us for the rest of the night ...
NOOOOOO!
We got on the phone and started phoning around to friends.
Bruce "Rotten" Paylor in Guelph told us it was completely clear just one
hour south of us.
Phew! So this was just a local thing.
We started packing up the car with the intention of heading south - but
by the time we were ready to leave, Rotten called back with the bad news
that Guelph and the surrounding area were now fogged in as well.
NOOOOO!
After several minutes of panic and cursing the weather Gods, I
remembered I am a pilot and rushed to Nav Canada's weather site.
As usual, the site was as glitchy as hell - but it worked well enough to
tell me just about everywhere to the south was socked in.
NOOOOO!
I decided to call the Flight Service Station in London, Ontario.
Now they are only supposed to give out aviation weather briefings to
pilots - but as, A) I am a pilot, B) Not much was moving because of the
fog and C) he was a nice man, the FSS Specialist took a close look at
his weather info and told me it should be clear a mere 30 km West of our
home.
After blessing the man and all his progeny, we decided to phone a friend
in Goderich - 90 minutes to the West to confirm this was true.
Police Officer Nigel Tilley looked outside and told us it was clear - so
once again, our spirits were high.
Now that we knew we had clear skies nearby, we decided to try and get a
little sleep - But this pretty much ended up as a
lie-in-bed-and-stare-at-the-ceiling kinda thing. It was almost a relief
when 2 A.M. rolled around, so we got dressed and rushed out to the car.
Mind you, it was kind of tricky FINDING the car ... in the thick fog.
But that's okay, Glenn - Just remember - It's clear only 30 km West of
here. Why in less than a half hour, we'll be sitting under pristine
clear skies watching Meteors just POUR out of the sky. .
Uh Huh. .... That fog sure looks thick.
By 2:30 A.M., we're on the road!
If we keep the lights on low beam, we can go all the way up to 80 kph. -
Hoo Ha!
A HUGE Racoon runs right in front of the car ...YYYEEEAAARRRGGGHHHHH"
We JUST miss him/her, regain control of the car, wait for our hearts to
stop racing, then slow to 60kph
Once we got West of the mighty metropolis of Mount Forest (Population
4,000) we had hoped the fog would start to thin.
It didn't.
It got thicker.
A LOT thicker.
Oh, oh, I think. Maybe the situation has changed since earlier this
evening.
What to do? What to do?
I really don't want to pester Flight Service ... But if we keep going
West and it's cloudy ... And I know the Storm will probably start within
the next hour... So ...
What to do?
I decide to phone Nigel.
Michelle points out that as it is now 3 A.M., it's just possible Nigel
may be asleep.
"Oh, he won't mind", say I. "He's used to getting up at all hours - He's
a cop"
"Yes", says Michelle. "Which means he owns a gun - and knows how to use
it."
Hum - Good point ...
Still, you gotta weigh the gains and losses - Miss a once in a lifetime
Meteor Storm - Or chance pissing off a friend ... an armed friend ...
Poor Nige loses.
More accurately, Nigel's partner Michelle loses as she, unfortunately,
is closest to the phone.
To her credit, "Nigel's Michelle" was extremely understanding and
pleasant and probably didn't start using profanities till after I'd hung
up.
Good old Nige even dragged himself out of bed and went outside for a
weather check - And then he came back with the report I feared - SOLID
OVERCAST!
What do we do now? We were sitting at an intersection that was our last
chance for some time to choose a prime direction. Which way should we
go?
With so little time left, we didn't dare make a mistake so chanced a
second call to Flight Service.
Once again, the weather specialist was understanding and pleasant - but
the news wasn't good.
He was very surprised how fast the fog had moved in and how THICK it was
-
And he told us there was really nowhere to go ... unless ... unless ...
He did have one report that it was clear in Wiarton - up on the Bruce
peninsula ... But the visibility was only 6 miles in mist - so it could
quickly turn into fog there as well.
We didn't care. At least it was a CHANCE!
Wiarton was 2 hours away. The Storm would have started by then. But it
was a CHANCE - So, North we go.
As we drove towards the infamous town of Walkerton (where 2000 people
were poisoned and 7 died last year after drinking polluted town water),
I noticed the fog was a little thinner so chanced a look straight up.
STARS! I SAW STARS!
I pulled over, jumped out of the car ... and watched the stars
disappear, one after the other.
In aviation, we call that a "sucker hole." It's clear ... really ...
Come on up in the nice blue sky ... It will only get better ... Nothing
to fear ... Nice Mister Hole-In-The-Sky won't KILL YOU (which is exactly
what the nasty sucker hole has a habit of doing.)
Back into the car, demoralized ...Keep driving north.
The Fog gets thicker again.
Just before 4 a.m., we pull into Walkerton.
The rural town is deserted.
Actually it had been looking like that at noon some days - ever since
the water went bad.
Poor people.
As I think about how much I loathe the provincial government that's
responsible for this disaster, I glance up ... and ...
IT IS CLEAR!
PERFECTLY CLEAR!
Good Lord - LET'S GET OUT OF TOWN!
We drive quickly to the west, take the first side road going North, then
drive until the lights of Walkerton start to fade. As the town is
located in a valley, this doesn't take long, so we are soon looking for
a place to stop.
A freshly harvested field appears on the right with a well used track
running straight into it.
We pull into the field, look up, and - though we didn't know it at the
time - see the most spectacular meteor of the night.
An bright blue meteor - Minus Four at least - falls vertically out of
Leo, splutters, then detonates with a blinding flash as it nears the
horizon. A low fog bank glows blue from the explosion.
WOW!
And that's just the start! In the next two minutes, we count 13 more
meteors and the main peak is still an hour away. We are just discussing
the possibility that the peak may be early, when the faintest stars
start to flicker out.
Huh?
Oh, No!
A light layer of fog is drifting over our field - but it's not a solid
layer and the stars of Leo keep on reappearing in tantalizing fashion.
Michelle tries to convince me that we should move on - but as this field
is such a great spot, I am loathe to move ... And this may be as good as
it gets, given the current conditions.
Michelle points out that we can always come back then gives one more
reason to leave that finally convinces me ... The field we are standing
in has just been spread with fertilizer.
Gee - I wondered where that smell was coming from!
I reluctantly drive out of the field and turn north towards Wiarton.
Michelle is right. It's definitely getting worse here - but I have a bad
feeling we're going to have a very long drive ahead of us before we see
clear skies again.
Four minutes later, I turn a corner half a mile from our field, pull up
a slight rise ... AND IT'S PERFECTLY CLEAR!
WHAT?
Somehow, Michelle manages not to say, "I told you so" as we search for a
place to park - but there is nowhere obvious, so we pull off the road as
best we can, jump out into a ditch, look up and ... we didn't move from
that ditch for the next 2 hours.
Because meteors were dropping out of the sky every few seconds!
We counted 25 Leonids in the first five minutes - More than most HOURLY
counts I've done in the past.
We were so stunned by what was going on we just snatched up the video
camera, pointed it roughly at the sky and started yelling out brightness
estimates as the Leonids poured down.
(We'd set the camcorder's time to the second before leaving the house
and left the time in the picture - so to reduce the data, all we had to
do was rewind, play, pause, etc - and we could time the meteors to the
second!)
Our pattern quickly established itself. I have no idea why - but every
time I saw a meteor, I'd yell out, "There's one, right there!"... Every
Time. At one point on the tape you can hear Michelle grumble, "what one,
right where?"
For her own part, Michelle would invariably yell out, "OH!" in surprise
- Every Time. Which got to be quite interesting as the Leonids started
falling two, three, then FIVE at a time!
"There's one right there - there's one ri' - there's on- there's -
Whoa!'", while in the background you hear, "oh, oh, Oh, Oh - OH!"
The meteors were falling fast - still this wasn't the meteor STORM I had
heard about. It wasn't RAINING meteors - But they WERE coming in at a
staggering rate. Anywhere from 3 to 9 meteors every single minute.
As the time passed 5 a.m. EST, I told Michelle that this was one of the
forecast times for the initial peak. As if announcing the commencement
of the big show, a pair of minus 2 and minus 3 Leonids streaked across
the sky in opposite directions. Utterly spectacular - And things seemed
to be picking up.
During the minute centred on 5:14 we counted 11 meteors - The same again
at 5:17. Was this the peak? Was it happening now?
We were counting 9, then 11, then 15 Leonids a minute. At 5:23 we
counted 16 in a minute. The same again at 5:25. Surely this must be the
peak?
For a while, the count dropped back to 8 to 10 a minute and I assumed
we'd seem the best of the shower. I even found time to tell Michelle the
group from Finland would be disappointed - They'd forecast 5:30 as the
probable peak time.
But when the clock hit 5:30, the sky EXPLODED with meteors.
The tape reveals the excitement in our voices as we desperately tried to
stick with the count. But it was almost impossible to speak fast enough
...And I talk FAST <g>.
From 5:30 to 5:31 alone we counted 23 Leonids! The same thing happened
again at 5:34. That's a meteor every 2 or 3 seconds!
For the next half hour, our meteor count stayed in the teens for every
minute that passed.
Around 5:45, we were horrified to note a slight glow in the East.
Oh No! Dawn is coming! -
But we still had a lot of dark sky left - and the Leonids were still
falling, though the count had now become variable. One minute we'd count
9, the next few minutes the count would jump back up to the high teens.
At 5:58, just as we thought things were slowing down we got a sudden
burst of 17 in a minute.
As the clock turned 6 A.M., we had to face the fact that the pre-dawn
sky was becoming a factor, but we were still counting around 10 meteors
a minute.
Our camcorder tape hit it's two hour limit at 6:09, and by the time we'd
snatched up our emergency back up tape recorder, the dawn was presenting
us with an additional problem. After holding off for the peak of the
Leonids, the fog was starting to move back in - and yet we still managed
to record a further 31 Leonids before finally having to call it quits.
By 6:19, there was little more than Jupiter left in the sky - so we
reluctantly turned off the tape, fell into the car, and started the long
drive home - Long because the fog was pea soup thick. We listened to
road reports on the radio describing dangerous driving conditions all
around our area. There was a concern some roads would be closed.
We took time to call the London Flight Service Specialist and thank him
sincerely for his help, then we shocked our local restaurant by arriving
for breakfast at 7 a.m. (Instead of our usual 12 noon arrival <g>.)
As we sat in the restaurant, remembering some of the incredible sights
we'd seen, the big question on both our minds was ... How Many Meteors
Had We Seen?
Michelle said it had to be several hundred.
I agreed, though we'd been counting so fast, I suspected we might have
recorded as many as 500 between the two of us.
Michelle thought I was being a little too optimistic - but then again,
I'm ALWAYS too optimistic <g>.
It took a day and a half to go back through the tapes, and note down the
observer, the time and the brightness of each observed meteor.
It was tedious work - But when the time came to add up the totals, we
looked at each other in shock - because these were the numbers of
meteors we observed in the pre-dawn sky of November 18th, 2001 between
4:02 a.m. and 6:19 A.M. (With 4 minutes, 15 seconds off for a fast,
half-mile relocation <g>)
Michelle, covering the South and West, observed a total of 543 meteors!
I covered the North and East and counted 745 (Note that I gave myself
the best view of the Leonids radiant <vbg>.)
That's a combined total of 1,288 meteors in a little over 2 hours!
While it's true that some of those observations were duplicates, by
isolating meteors only one of us saw, we now know we recorded a total of
1,025 individual Leonids - which along with 2 sporadics - gives us a
grand total of 1,027 meteors!
Not bad for a few hours work!
Not bad at all.
In retrospect - this wasn't the STORM I was hoping to see - and given
the 53 years I have under my belt, it's a sure bet I won't be around for
the next one <g>.
But, there is still next year. And while a full moon will wash out most
of the fainter meteors, Michelle noted that the vast number of Leonids
we saw were Mag 1 or brighter.
And we are supposed to be in perfect position for the MAIN peak in 2002
-So, we may yet see stars "pouring out of the sky."
But if we don't, I won't complain ( well, not too loudly), because on
the morning of November 18th, 2001 we beat the odds and watched from a
rural Walkerton ditch as Leo finally came through for us and ROARED into
the sky over South Western Ontario.
I think my 9 year old, former self, would be very pleased indeed <g>.
Glenn Norman & Michelle Goodeve
The archive and Web site for our list is at http://www.meteorobs.org
If you are interested in complete links on the 2001 LEONIDS, see:
http://www.meteorobs.org/storms.html
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