Back to Solar Eclipse Diary
(Part I)
1991: OUR FIRST TOTAL ECLIPSE
Joined by my wife Tammy,
I prepared for my first total solar eclipse. In addition to observing the
eclipse with eclipse glasses (for partial phases) and binoculars (for totality),
I planned to photograph all aspects of the eclipse with a 35mm camera equipped
with a telephoto lens. This image scale would allow complete coverage
of the corona, and might capture a prominence or two if they were large
enough. Thursday, July 11, 1991 (Eclipse Day) dawned clear and remained
that way. Along with several dozen other people, our observing site encircled
an emptied swimming pool on a hilltop behind our hotel. This location was
chosen because of close proximity to our hotel and to provide a higher
elevation from which to observe the western horizon and the approaching
lunar shadow.
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First contact occurred at
10:23 a.m. For the next 84 minutes, we watched the moon swallow more and
more of the sun's disk. During this time, we observed the change in ambient
light, the reduction in solar radiation upon our skin, and the sharpening
of our shadows as the sun was reduced to a point source of light. As totality
approached, the western sky began to darken. This darkening was subtle
at first, but accelerated dramatically in the last few seconds before total
eclipse. Suddenly, we saw the distant mountains darken as the shadow of
the moon enveloped them. We knew that the lunar shadow, racing toward us
at supersonic speeds, would soon envelop us as well. We were ready and
willing! Overhead, as the last vestiges of the sun's disk shrank to become
the glorious "diamond ring effect," the voices of nearby skywatchers were
joined by distant voices and animal-like shrieks not normally heard from
human throats. Everyone was wild with anticipation as the climax of the
eclipse unfolded.
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For close-up views of each image, click on the picture. |
Finally, at 11:47:40 a.m.
on July 11, 1991, I beheld the spectacle of totality for the first time
in my life! It was far more beautiful than I could have ever imagined!
During totality, the sky was a deep, electric blue. Nearly overhead, the
coal black moon resembled a black hole to infinity, with the pearly white
corona encircling it in such a way as to beckon such a journey. Contrasting
with the deep blue sky were some very large, pink solar prominences extending
from beyond the dark edge of the moon. Like a Rorschach test, I instinctively
tried to see recognizable shaped within the tendrils of luminous solar
gas. That way, I reasoned, I would later be better able to recall
their glorious detail. There were definitely prominences to be seen! I
saw "twin swirls" (as I called them) on the eastern limb and an even larger
prominence resembling a seahorse on the opposite, northwestern limb. As
totality progressed, the "twin swirls" gradually shrank and the "seahorse"
grew as the moon slowly advanced across the cross section of solar atmosphere.
Surrounding the solar limb and its prominences was the solar corona. Extending
nearly four solar diameters toward the northeast and southwest, the pearly
corona exhibited far more structure than in any photograph I'd ever seen.
It was a spectacular and breathtaking sight to behold! Not wanting to miss
anything, I tried to balance the time I spent taking pictures with binocular
and naked eye views of the surrounding landscape and sky. Most of my pictures
of totality were taken during the first three minutes; I reserved as much
of the second half of totality for visual observation. I had heard too
many horror stories about people who are so intent on taking pictures that
they never bothered to watch the eclipse. I did not want to be one of them.
My equipment included a Nikon FM2 camera equipped with a 600mm (E.F.L.)
lens mounted on a small tripod. All photos were shot on ASA 125 Kodacolor
print film. I bracketed my exposures to capture as wide a range of solar
phenomena as possible. During totality, I exposed a total of 15 frames.
Despite the fact that this total solar eclipse would be the longest one
in my lifetime, it still seemed far too short. As the moon's motion revealed
more and more of the "seahorse" prominence, the solar limb beneath it began
to exhibit a thin red line. I heard someone exclaim "chromosphere" and
I immediately recognized what I was seeing -- the thin layer of the sun's
atmosphere immediately above the dazzlingly bright photosphere. I also
knew that if I was seeing the chromosphere, then totality was just about
to end. I took one final, intense look through the binoculars and savored
the moment. Like a bolt out of the blue, an intense point of light
dazzled my eyes. The final "diamond ring" was beginning. Shouts of "no,
no, not yet" filled the air as people tried in vain to stall the eclipse's
inevitable ending. I checked to make sure that the sun was still in my
camera's frame and took what would become my best eclipse photograph.
As the "diamond ring" grew brighter and larger, it was time to re-attach
the solar filter to the camera, put the binoculars away, and reach for
my eclipse glasses.
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Totality had lasted 6 minutes
and 22 seconds from our location, ending at 11:54:02 a.m. Overhead,
the sky was cut in two by the receding lunar shadow. In the east were the
last remnants of the deep, blue eclipse sky. In the west was the approaching
sunlight. The remainder of the eclipse -- the partial phases -- was anticlimactic,
yet euphoric. It was anticlimactic because the beauty of totality was over,
but euphoric because the pressure was off. We had witnessed totality
in all its glory! Still, I wanted to photo-document the complete eclipse,
and that included taking some partial phase photographs after totality.
Finally, at 1:18 p.m., last contact occurred, and the full circle of the
sun's disk returned. The entire eclipse had lasted five minutes short of
three hours.
All around me, jubilant
chaos reigned! Some groups treated their people to champagne, while others
simply congratulated one another and shared enthusiastic stories. "Wow,
that corona was beautiful," was a common exclamation, and "did you see
those huge prominences?" was a question repeated many times that afternoon.
Someone had recorded the eclipse on video, and they were sharing their
footage with anyone near enough to watch. As nice as it was to watch the
video replay, it couldn't hold a candle to the real thing. The full realization
of just how much better a solar eclipse can be in real life than in magazine
illustrations was the most valuable lesson I learned that day. I gained
a new appreciation for human eyesight. In one glorious view, the human
eye can simultaneously capture all the beauty of the pink prominences,
inner corona, outer corona, rich sky color, nearby planets, and more. A
photographer would be hard pressed to capture any one of these features
on film, let alone all of them at once!
Last updated October 20, 2001