The Total Solar Eclipse of February 26, 1998

On February 26, 1998, my wife Tammy and I successfully observed the total solar eclipse aboard the Carnival cruise ship Fascination, positioned on the centerline southeast of Aruba (at approximately 12 degrees 17.5' North Latitude and 69 degrees 43.0' West Longitude).

This is the third central solar eclipse that Tammy and I have observed together. In July of 1991, we successfully observed the longest total solar eclipse that we'll ever experience from La Paz in Baja, Mexico. In May of 1994, we successfully observed the annular solar eclipse from the centerline near Mahomet, Illinois. In both cases, the sky was perfectly clear from first contact to fourth contact. We hoped for a similar scenario this time.

We were part of the Astronomical League's Caribbean Eclipse Cruise, which featured Ken Willcox, Fred Espenak and Mark Littman as featured speakers. By day, we enjoyed the warming rays of the sun, cool waters of the ship's swimming pools, and shore excursions to St. Thomas, Guadaloupe, Grenada, and Venezuela. By night, from the darkened Verandah deck at the rear of the ship, we observed such southern celestial treats as Canopus, the Southern Cross (Crux), the False Cross, the Eta Carinae Nebula, the Omega Centauri globular star cluster, and Alpha and Beta Centauri. Each morning before dawn, we could follow the crescent moon as its phase grew smaller and its position grew closer to its Thursday rendezvous with the sun. On the morning of February 23rd, a few of us rose early enough to see the crescent moon and Venus (a pretty pair indeed!) directly ahead of our ship as we headed eastward toward Guadaloupe. After spending five glorious days aboard the MS Fascination and its Caribbean ports of call, we anxiously awaited the sixth day of the cruise and our arrival at Oranjestad, the capital of Aruba.
 
 

On the morning of February 26th, the MS Fascination arrived in the port of Oranjestad at approximately 8:00 a.m. The morning skies were punctuated by scattered clouds, which caused some concern to those facing the all-important decision -- "should I observe on the island or stay on the ship?" Since we had no plans to photograph the eclipse (having accomplished that with some success in 1991), Tammy and I decided to stay on the ship to improve our weather chances and gain an additional 38 seconds of totality.

The conditions were still partly cloudy as the MS Fascination left its pier, bound for the eclipse centerline. As the ship passed the Astronomical League's observing site, astronomers both ashore and onboard waved their best wishes to each other. Each person undoubtedly wondered if they had made the right decision and nervously hoped for the best.

As the MS Fascination cleared the southern tip of Aruba and into the open sea, the sky conditions started to deteriorate. Cumulus clouds were replaced by thickening stratocumulus clouds as we headed southeast. We even experienced a brief rain shower at one point, forcing those people who had already set up their equipment to seek cover and/or protective towels. The situation did not look good! Blue patches could no longer be found in any direction, and many of us became concerned that the worst case scenario (a cloud-out) could actually occur.

Fortunately, the clouds gradually brightened and then thinned. Filtered sunshine gave us some hope, and when the sun's disk became intermittently visible, optimism replaced pessimism in the minds of many. As the ship approached the centerline, Captain Salvatore Rassello stopped our forward speed and we coasted to a stop, the bow facing eastward into the wind. Not only did this orientation provide us with the greatest stability but, as Fred Espenak and the Captain had earlier discussed, it also offered people on the large rear deck an unobstructed view of the eclipsed sun and its approaching shadow.

Finally, the lookouts among us spied what we'd all been watching for -- a patch of blue sky. First spotted near the horizon off the port bow, this patch of blue grew in size and gradually rose from the sea to envelope us. As the noon hour approached, the skies cleared, giving us all great cause for celebration.
 
 

By mid-morning, Tammy and I had set up our "observing site" on the starboard side of the aft Verandah deck. Using deck chairs to "stake out our territory," we prepared ourselves and our equipment for first contact, which was scheduled to take place at approximately 12:39 p.m. local time (Atlantic Standard Time). As far as equipment was concerned, Tammy and I had a couple pairs of eclipse glasses, two pairs of 10x50 binoculars (for use during totality), and my Questar 3.5" telescope (with solar filters on both the main instrument and its built-in finder). As best I could, I polar aligned the Questar to make it as easy as possible to keep the sun in my field of view.

For the next 90 minutes, we watched the moon slowly advance across the sun's disk. Two small sunspot groups were easily visible with our telescope, and these provided an extra bit of entertainment half way through as we watched them slowly occulted by the moon's limb. As we had learned from our prior eclipses, we paid particular attention to the changes in our shadows. As the eclipse progressed and the sun became a crescent light source instead of a disk, we could clearly see that one side of our shadows was distinctly sharper than the other side. Some time after 1 p.m., we began to notice that the sun's heat upon our skin was less than it had been earlier. However, the sky maintained its triumphant blue hue. Only a few clouds near the horizon (which were not moving our way!) could be seen. It appeared as if the "eclipse gods" would be with us this day, after all!

As totality neared, everyone experienced a heightened state of anxiety and anticipation. Time seemed to slow down; it almost seemed at times that the moon had slowed its advance on the sun! Someone shouted out that Venus was now visible and everyone within earshot turned their attention toward our nearest planetary neighbor before quickly returning to the main event.

In the final moments before totality, the sky finally darkened. Unlike the situation Tammy and I experienced 6 1/2 years earlier in Baja, the approaching shadow was not seen until almost the last moment. Perhaps it was the clarity of the atmosphere. Or perhaps without any landmarks in the direction of the approaching shadow, it was harder to perceive the darkening sky. Who knows?
 
 

As the final arc of the sun's photosphere broke into Baily's beads, we were treated to a spectacular diamond ring. Shouts and assorted exclamations of sheer delight filled the air as the diamond ring gradually faded out and the sun's magnificent corona faded in.

The equatorial streamers and polar brushes were quite reminiscent of a sunspot-minimum eclipse. However, I was struck by the extremely fine structure in the corona (a cosmic filigree). Both the equatorial streamers and polar brushes exhibited wonderfully complex detail that defied artists and photographers to capture its full glory. It was a stunningly beautiful, "take-your-breath-away" sight. Immediately after second contact, a bright hedgerow prominence became visible beyond the northeastern portion of the moon's limb.

The sky was much different for this eclipse than the 1991 eclipse in Baja. In Baja, where the eclipsed sun was nearly overhead, the sky was a deep, electric blue. The coal black moon, luminous pink prominences, and pearly white corona contrasted magnificently with the background sky. In contrast, the sky in this eclipse was more a smoky gray than blue. It was no less beautiful than in 1991 ... just different. Accompanying the eclipsed sun were Jupiter (which was just to the lower right of the sun) and Mercury (which was to the upper left and surprisingly bright). Brilliant Venus was farther away toward the lower right.

Not surprisingly, the 1991 eclipse, which came near sunspot maximum, had prominences that were ... well ... more prominent. Nonetheless, I was very impressed with the number and size of the prominences in this eclipse, considering we are just coming out of sunspot minimum.

As totality passed its midway point, I started to see a dazzlingly bright prominence appearing on the southwestern limb. Although much smaller than the prominence first seen at totality's onset, this new one was extremely bright and extremely pink! As the seconds progressed, I started to see a growing number of small prominences along the western limb. Finally, I saw the unmistakable reddish signature of the chromosphere, which reminded me that the eclipse was just about to end. "Chromosphere ... chromosphere!!" I shouted out. "Get ready for diamond ring!"
 
 

The diamond ring at third contact is always a bittersweet experience. On the one hand, it is a breathtaking sight that is almost spiritual in nature. On the other hand, it is a clear reminder that totality is over. Totality had lasted 3 minutes and 44 seconds, but no one wanted it to end, and we couldn't believe how short it seemed!

Jubilation reigned supreme!!

With a combination of relief and ecstatic joy, passengers on the aft Verandah deck of the MS Fascination (and undoubtedly the rest of the ship as well) now turned their attention toward celebrating with old friends and new friends alike. Champagne flowed abundantly as a relaxed feeling of tremendous satisfaction -- an "eclipse high" -- settled across our floating observatory.
 
 

As fourth contact neared, the Captain turned the ship and began the voyage back to Aruba, to pick up our colleagues ashore. Later, we learned that everyone ashore saw totality, but there were a few tense moments with clouds. Thankfully, everyone was left with an experience they will never forget. The MS Fascination was one happy ship!
 
 

A total eclipse of the sun is undeniably the most beautiful natural event that the human eye and mind can ever experience. You don't just see an eclipse, you experience it! For those fortunate enough to stand in the moon's shadow, it is truly a spiritual experience. It can cause radical changes to human behavior and brings tears to the eyes of many. During totality, I thought how wonderful it would be if I could gather all the people who have ever played a significant role in my life and bring them together to experience this breathtaking sight. It is a unifying experience that crosses national and racial boundaries and goes to the root of our humanity and our connection with the natural world.

Tammy and I have been privileged to spend 10 minutes and 6 seconds of our lives in the shadow of the moon. We hope to add to this figure in future years. For anyone contemplating a trip someday to witness the grand spectacle of a total solar eclipse, we highly recommend it!

For a slightly different version of my report, along with other people's personal accounts and photographs of the 1998 eclipse, please visit Fred Espenak's Reports of the 1998 Total Solar Eclipse.

To read an article that describes the author's past history of viewing solar eclipses, please visit Solar Eclipse Diary.
 
 

annular solar eclipse -- a type of central solar eclipse in which the moon's angular diameter is too small to completely cover the sun, leaving a ring of light, or "annulus" surrounding the lunar disk.

Baily's beads -- A phenomenon of total and some annular eclipses in which sunlight shines only through valleys along the moon's limb, giving the appearance of bright beads of light. It can occur at either second or third contact.

central solar eclipse -- a solar eclipse where the moon passes centrally over the sun's disk. A central eclipse can either by annular, annular-total, or total.

chromosphere -- the narrow, reddish layer of the sun's atmosphere between the visible photosphere and the corona. It is visible for only a few seconds as totality begins and ends.

corona -- the sun's atmosphere, which can only be seen during a total solar eclipse.

Diamond ring -- An effect of total eclipses caused by sunlight shining from one small region which the moon has not yet covered (at second contact) or has just uncovered (at third contact).

equatorial streamers -- long coronal streamers, aligned along the sun's equator, which may extend several solar radii on either side of the sun during totality.

first contact -- the moment that the moon first appears on the edge of the sun's disk, signaling the beginning of an eclipse.

fourth contact -- the moment that the moon last appears on the edge of the sun's disk, signaling the end of an eclipse.

limb -- the edge of the moon or sun.

photosphere -- the visible face of the sun, which is far too bright to view with the unprotected eye.

polar brushes -- short, delicate coronal spikes extending from the sun's polar regions.

prominences -- jets of gas which erupt from the sun's photosphere and usually appear pink during totality.

second contact -- the moment that marks the beginning of either annularity or totality.

solar eclipse -- the moon passes in front of the sun as seen from the earth. A solar eclipse can only occur at new moon.

third contact -- the moment that marks the end of either annularity or totality.

total solar eclipse -- a type of central solar eclipse in which the moon passes directly in front of the sun and has an angular diameter greater than the sun, thereby blocking off all of the sun's direct light.
 
 

  This page last updated May 2, 2004