Collecting Stars on Stamps — Astronomy for the beclouded astronomer

A long time ago in a galaxy far away….

A long time ago in a galaxy far away…. Actually, it wasn’t a very long time ago, nor in a galaxy far away. It all happened about 35 years ago in the Andromeda Arm of a galaxy called the Milky Way, on a planet called Earth, in a country called Canada, in a province called British Columbia, in and near the community called Prince George, 800 km (500 miles north of Vancouver).

A view toward the centre of our own galaxy, the Milky Way galaxy. — Bob Ingraham Photo

I was an enthusiastic amateur astronomer, and the father of an even-more-enthusiastic amateur astronomer, my son, Paul. In his early teens, Paul had revealed the inquisitiveness and patience of an professional astronomer when he began using an inexpensive pair of binoculars and star charts to locate objects that my older eyes could barely resolve, if at all.

Paul Ingraham, the crescent moon, and the crescent Venus, ca. 1985. — Bob Ingraham Photo

Dobsonian telescopes were popularized by the amateur astronomer John Dobson in the 1960s. Dobsonians are basically Newtonian telescopes, invented by the British scientist Sir Isaac Newton in 1668, and utilizing a concave primary mirror and a flat diagonal secondary mirror. Dobsonians — often called “light buckets” — are optimized to reveal faint deep-sky objects such as galaxies and nebulae. They are inexpensive, easy to use, relatively easy to transport (depending on the size of the primary mirror!), and popular in the amateur telescope making community, where the design was pioneered and continues to evolve.

Paul’s universe expanded even more when we bought a high-quality eight-inch Dobsonian telescope — a “Dobbie” — and three excellent eye pieces of different focal lengths. On many a night, summer and winter, we drove to the darkest skies we could find, usually several miles north of Prince George, British Columbia, in the geographic centre of B.C.

Because of its northern latitude (nearly 54º N), Prince George is not an astronomer’s dream. At high summer, astronomical twilight, that period when faint deep-sky objects like nebulae and galaxies are visible, begins just before midnight and ends by 2:30 a.m. If you’re lucky, mosquitos won’t drive you into shelter soon after you start observing.

Throughout autumn and winter, stratus and nimbostratus clouds often stretch from horizon to horizon. When skies clear, temperatures can plunge as low as -40º Celsius (which equals -40º Fahrenheit) for days at time. In mid-winter, darkness lasts for about 13 hours, quite long enough for even a well-insulated astronomer to suffer frostbite.

A spectacular comet, Hale-Bopp, appeared in the night sky north of Prince George in 1997. Hale-Bopp sported an unusual pair of tails, a blue gas tail pointing straight away from the Sun and the yellowish dust tail curving away along its orbit. In this photograph, the faint blue tale extends from the comet’s head toward the upper right corner of the photograph. — Bob Ingraham Photo

At any time of year, even if it’s dark and clear, turbulence high in the atmosphere often makes stars and planets dance and wiggle and shimmy. At any time of year, aurora borealis can fade stars out of existence and not even provide a light show — the aurora often manifests itself just as a bright whitish glow across large swaths of the northern sky.

Despite many less-than-optimal observing nights, Paul and I were able to leave earth, in our imaginations at least, and plunge deep into space, well beyond the solar system and the Milky Way. As denizens of the night, we observed the nighttime world as “day people” never see it. We watched constellations rise and set like celestial clockworks; like Galileo, we watched the silent procession of Jupiter’s moons as the planet hid them one by one and then revealed them (one by one) and in the winter of 1997 we were rewarded by the appearance of spectacular comet Hale-Bopp.

I discover Stars on Stamps

Dunsink Observatory, near Dublin

Obviously, Prince George’s climate often made astronomy impossible, and we had to stay at home to enjoy other pursuits. On one cloudy, cold night, while I was working with my Ireland stamp collection, I came across a stamp commemorating Dunsink Observatory in Dublin. I had never heard of that observatory, but the stamp made me wonder if there were other stamps with astronomical themes. A quick check of my Scott Standard Post Stamp Catalogue confirmed the existence of hundreds! I began searching for them in earnest.

My collection now contains several hundred astronomy-related topical stamps. It could contain several thousand, but one of my collecting policies is only to buy stamps, covers (used envelopes), and collateral items that appeal to me. Following is a selection of stamps, covers, postcards, and souvenir sheets from my astrophilately collection.

A minuscule sample of “Stars on Stamps” that are readily available to the collector.

Some stamps, postcards, and covers from my collection.

Palomar Observatory was the subject of a U.S. stamp issued in 1948.

In August, 1948, the U.S. Post Office Department issued a stamp commemorating Palomar Observatory, among the best-known observatories in the world. It’s not the iconic dome that makes Palomar important, but the telescopes within it, most significantly the 200-inch Hale Telescope, which held the record as the world’s largest telescope for 27 years. Today, thanks to high-tech digital image tweaking, the Hale telescope is still charting new frontiers in the Universe, but has been somewhat eclipsed by the public relations shadow of newer earth-based facilities, not to mention the Hubble Space Telescope and dozens of unmanned observatories in space.

The 200-inch Hale Telescope was featured on this 1971 Dependency of Ascenscion stamp.

Not only are observatories the subject of stamps, but so are telescopes, astronomers, stars, constellations, the sun and solar system, eclipses, aurora, the moon, comets, galaxies, clusters, nebulae, and the precursor of modern astronomy, astrological mythology.

The first stamp featuring an astronomical subject

The first country ever to issue a stamp featuring an astronomical subject was Brazil. Its definitive issue of 1887 featured the constellation Crux Australis or the Southern Cross, often referred to simply as “Crux”. It’s no surprise that a devoutly Roman Catholic country like Brazil would choose to represent the Christian cross on a stamp. It is surprising that its representation of Crux is scientifically accurate: it includes the constellation’s “fifth” star, Epsilon Crucis.

An astrophoto of the constellation Southern Cross (centre), bracketed by stamps featuring the Southern Cross, clearly shows its “fifth” star, Epsilon Crucis, set off to the right of centre. The stamp at the left is the first stamp to feature a scientifically accurate astronomical image. At the right, an early New South Wales stamp features an unscientific representation of the Southern Cross, without Epsilon Crucis. — Astrophoto courtesy of @NASkies

Epsilon Crucis, called Intrometidal in Portuguese (translated in English as “Intrusive”) is a fourth magnitude¹ orange giant about 228 light-years from Earth. Along with the four stars that give the Southern Cross its shape, Epsilon Crucis is easily visible from the southern hemisphere at practically any time of year; from tropical latitudes of the northern hemisphere, it appears near the horizon for a few hours every night during the northern winter and spring.

A Brazilian stamp issued in 1929 featured what appears to be a reversed image of the Southern Cross, with Epsilon Crucis at the left of the cross rather than the right, but it’s not an error. Instead, the image is based on an archaic type of navigational instrument called an armillary sphere, the invention of which is credited to the Greek astronomer Eratosthenes (276 – 194 BC); its name comes from the Latin armilla (circle or bracelet), since it is constructed of graduated metal circles linking the poles and representing the equator, the ecliptic, meridians and parallels. A ball representing the Earth or, later, the Sun, is placed in its center. Before the advent of the European telescope in the 17th century, armillary sphere was the prime instrument that astronomers used to determine celestial positions.

Armillary spheres are designed to represent the viewer would see if he were looking at the earth from outside graduated, imaginary spheres on which constellations, other stars, and the planets reside. Similarly, solid celestial globes are designed to show the constellations from a perspective well outside the solar system.

From the left: A Brazilian stamp issued in 1929 pictures a “mirror image” of the Southern Cross, with Epsilon Crucis at the left side of the cross rather than the right side; a detail of a painting in the Louvre, picturing the Greek astronomer Ptolemy studying an armillary sphere; the flag of Brazil, showing the Southern Cross and other stars, rotated left to right as they would be seen on an armillary sphere or celestial globe. Among the many national flags picturing the Southern Cross, Brazil’s flag is unique in its representation of the constellation. ~ Images of Ptolemy and Brazil’s flag courtesy of Wikipedia

The first astrophotos on stamps

Another first in Stars on Stamps is Mexico’s 1942 Astrophysics Congress issue, which featured — for the first time — photographs of astronomical subjects, e.g. astrophotos.

In 1942, Mexico issued sets of three regular-postage stamps and three airmail stamps that frank this first-day cover. The occasion was the 1942 Astrophysics Congress and the dedication of Mexico’s first modern astronomical observatory, at Tonantzintla, southwest of Mexico City.

A pair of Mexico’s 40-centavo astronomy-themed stamps frank a cover posted in May, 1942 from Mexico City. The stamps picture the Nebulosa Planetaria en Libra (Planetary Nebula in [the constellation] Libra), otherwise known as M57, the Ring Nebula. Scores of planetary nebulae have been discovered; all of them are remains of sun-like stars, and many feature the star’s white core, called a white dwarf.

Mexican diplomat and astronomer Luis Erro.

The observatory at Tonantzintla holds a unique place in the history of astronomy and astrophysics: its construction resulted from a collaborative, international effort of astronomers and astrophysicists at a time — during the Second World War — when pure science was being sidelined by the development of new military technology. The internationally famous astronomer Harlow Shapley worked with his friend, Mexican diplomat and amateur astronomer Luis Erro, to ensure that at least some technological development was directed toward scientific rather than military pursuits. Additional information about the Tonantzintla stamps and observatory is available in my VANPEX 2012 one-sheet philatelic exhibit.

Halley’s Comet

Many stamps were issued in the mid-1980s to celebrate one of the most notable of recurrent astronomical events in earth’s history, the periodic return, every 75 or 76 years, of Halley’s Comet.

Impressionistic British stamps commemorate the return of Halley’s Comet to earth’s neighbourhood in 1986.

Halley’s Comet is the only short-period comet that is clearly visible to the naked eye from Earth, and the only naked-eye comet that could appear twice in a human lifetime, assuming a human lifespan of 75 or 76 years. Halley’s Comet next appearance will be in mid-2061.

Halley's returns to the inner Solar System have been observed and recorded by astronomers since at least 240 BC.That long-heralded appearance of Halley’s Comet was a bust. The comet’s tail, celebrated and feared in former times, was scarcely visible. Later 20th Century comets, notably Hale-Bopp, were far more spectacular.

Lessons from Stars on Stamps

There’s little point stamp or anything else unless your collection can teach you something. My Stars on Stamps collection has taught me good deal about the history of astronomy. One stamp in particular, issued by Norfolk Island in 1969, sent me to Google and to my library.

This Norfolk Island stamp, issued in 1969, commemorates Capt. James Cook’s 1769 observation of the transit of Venus across the face of the sun.

The stamp commemorates the primary purpose of Captain James Cook’s first expedition to the Pacific was to observe the transit of Venus across the face of the sun on June 3-4, 1769. Successful observations would expand scientific knowledge and improve navigation by accurately calculating the observer’s longitude. (At this time, longitude was difficult to determine and measurements were rarely precise.)

H.M.S. Endeavor, Captain James Cook’s ship on his first voyage to the Pacific Ocean. — Image courtesy of Wikimedia Commons

My library contains a tattered copy of A Narrative of the Voyages Around the World, Performed by Captain Cook. With an Account of His Life During the Previous and Intervening Periods, by Rev. Alfred Kippis, a Fellow of the Royal Society, first published in 1788. In his brief account of the Transit of Venus, Kippis writes that Cook and the scientists in the expedition observed a “dusky cloud” around Venus, which made it difficult to establish the times of contact. They were pleased with their success, but their pleasure was premature….

The Royal Society largely rejected the expedition’s findings, and blamed the “failure” on the expedition’s astronomer, Charles Green, who couldn’t very well defend himself because, well, he had died during the return voyage to England! Modern observations, however, have confirmed that the Cook expedition’s observations of the Venus transit were amazingly accurate for the time, and that observational difficulties resulted not from poor science but atmospheric turbulence, which had dogged observers of the transit in other parts of the world.

Kippis’s account provides a glimpse of the harsh naval discipline the Royal Navy of the 1700s: While the officers and scientists were observing the Transit of Venus, sailors stole “spike-nails” to trade to the natives, more specifically to native women in return for sexual favours. One thief received two dozen lashes, a vicious punishment which could disable a man for days.

In the foreword to the travel guide Hawaii 1961 - Fodor's Modern Guide, James Michener, the author of the best-selling novel Hawaii, mentions ships’ nails as gifts that sailors gave Hawaiian girls who were willing to raise (or trim?) their grass skirts to give sailors easier access to their charms:

It [the sex] was all free, uninhibited, generous, charming, in short good old-fashioned fun, but soon it got corrupted by complications commercial, venereal, ministerial. The girls never thought of anything so sordid as fees, but the sailors, victims of a more mercenary civilization, could not resist giving them little presents as tenders of affection. Before long fornication ceased to be its own reward. The girls were spoiled. They began asking for nails, items of enormous value in a Hawaii just emerging from the stone age. The sailors were only too happy to comply, a nail for a frail,² and captains began to eye their ships nervously for fear they might come apart at the seams.

Tycho Brahe, who had a metal nose, challenged Aristotlean astronomy

Above at the left, Danish Astronomer Tycho Brahe; at the right, a stamp picturing the Stella nova — New star — that Brahe observed in 1572.

Two Danish stamps in my collection, pictured at the left, commemorate the 16th Century Danish astronomer, Tycho Brahe. Working without a telescope (which hadn’t been invented), Brahe made a significant observation that contradicted Aristotle’s theory of the immutability of the heavens.

I learned about Brahe’s 1572 observation³ of a supernova which unexpectedly appeared in the constellation Cassiopeia; the supernova, an explosion of a star, is shown as a white star at the top of the stamp. Brahe himself is shown on the other stamp, displaying his metal nose.⁴

The next year, in 1573, Brahe published De nova stella (On the new star), arguing that since the Stella Nova, unlike the planets, did not move against the background of other stars, it could not be a planet. And, since it was in a location that had previously been assumed to be empty space, Brahe challenged the Aristotlean belief in the inalterable perfection of the “supralunary sphere” (everything beyond the orbit of the moon) and the corresponding belief that the “sublunar sphere” (Earth) was the centre around which everything else moved. Brahe criticized those who dismissed his observations, writing in the preface to De nova stella, “O crassa ingenia. O caecos coeli spectatores" ("Oh thick wits. Oh blind watchers of the sky").⁵

Tycho Brahe’s Nova Stella pictured with the help of x-ray imaging. ~ Image courtesy of NASA / MPIA / Calar Alto Observatory, Oliver Krause et al.

Brahe’s Nova stella is still with us, and still where it was 1572, in the constellation Cassiopeia. It exists as a still-expanding globe of gas and high-energy particles and enjoys three astronomical designations: SN 1572 (Supernova 1572), B Cas (Cassiopeia B), or 3C 10 (Third Cambridge Catalogue of Radio Sources 10). It’s invisible in wavelengths that we humans evolved with, but x-ray images reveal its structure, as shown in the image at the left.

Galactic distances

Brahe was correct in his belief that the Universe was indeed alterable, but even he could not have comprehended the power of a supernova: astronomers believe that a supernova as close to earth as 26 light years would destroy our ozone layer and result in another mass extinction event, like that of the dinosaurs, except that the extinction would include us. A star that is 26 light years from earth is very close in galactic terms. Astronomers estimate the diameter of the observable universe to be about 3,600,000,000 light years in diameter. Or, to put it another way…

Space is big. Really big. You just won’t believe how vastly, hugely, mind-bogglingly big it is. I mean, you may think it’s a long way down the road to the chemist’s, but that’s just peanuts to space. — The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, by Douglas Adams

The Chandrasekhar Limit, named after Indian-American astrophysicist Subrahmanyan Chandrasekhar, mandates that no white dwarf (a collapsed, degenerate star) can be more massive than about 1.4 solar masses. Any more-massive degenerate object must inevitably collapse into a neutron star. The limit was first published by Wilhelm Anderson and E. C. Stoner; Chandrasekhar — obviously a bright star among astrophysicists — improved upon the accuracy of the calculation in 1930, at age 19!

Only in the 1960s, scientists working with a telescopes at Palomar Mountain discovered the remnants of Brahe’s supernova. The supernova has since been confirmed as a Type Ia, in which a white dwarf star accretes matter from a companion until it reaches the Chandrasekhar Limit and explodes. A shell of gas is still expanding from its centre at about 9,000 km/s.

No less fascinating than astronomy itself are the biographies of the astronomers. I learned this oddball fact about Brahe: He wore a silver nose prosthesis after his own flesh-and-blood nose was sliced off in a duel.

The Hubble Space Telescope opens earthbound eyes

With the revolution in digital imaging and the launching of satellites and space probes, astronomers have taken giant leaps in their understanding of the Universe. Images obtained by the Hubbel Space Telescope, launched in 1990, have opened earthbound eyes to sights that we never suspected. The U.S. Hubbel Telescope issue of 2000 celebrates some of those incredible images:

Five Hubble Space Telescope images on U.S. stamps issued in 2000. The stamp at the far left pictures the Ring Nebula, discovered by the astronomer Charles Messier while searching for comets in late January 1779.

Constellations

Among the most attractive of astronomy topical stamps are those illustrating the constellations, those bright stars that seem to earthbound cultures to represent particular shapes, often representative of mythological beings. They are also called asterisms.

The stamps illustrated above were issued by Tristan da Cunha, an island in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean; note that the stamp on the far right, like the Brazil stamp shown previously, also shows the Southern Cross.

Constellations that we on earth easily recognize, such as the Big Dipper, don’t actually exist in nature. All stars are at such a great distance from earth that we see them as if they are on a plane at right angles to our line of sight, but in reality the individual stars of a given constellation are at varying distances from earth. Someone on distant planet might see the same stars, but from such a different perspective that they would form a very different shape, or no particular shape at all.

I no longer live in Prince George, but in Vancouver, where clouds and smog often prevent visual astronomy. Even on clear nights, serious light pollution obscures all but the brightest objects in the sky. But my Stars on Stamps collection still allows me to continue my voyage of discovery through the Universe.