Astronomers are celebrating the 20th anniversary of the appearance of Supernova 1987A this week.Â
As I write this, they’ve just cut the cake at a hundred-scientist commemoration of the event in Aspen, Co, and space agencies have posted gorgeous portraits of the remains of the mighty star on the WWW. NASA’s image from the Hubble Space Telescope, is at
http://hubblesite.org/newscenter/archive/releases/2007/10
And ESA’s image, from the XMM-Newton X-ray telescope, can be seen at http://www.esa.int/esaSC/SEMPE0CE8YE_index_0.html
The talk at the Aspen conference is mostly on knowledge gained from SN 1987A, the brightest supernova since the invention of the telescope and the first visible to the naked eye in four centuries.Â
But for me, the anniversary triggers memories of crazy things that went on shortly after February 24, 1987, when the exploding star was discovered in Chile and all Hell broke out at science agencies and university centers as astronomers and physicists scrambled to observe the once-in-many-lifetimes event like fighter pilots alerted to a radar bogey approaching the continental US during the Cold War. The physicists were galvanized by the discovery of neutrinos from the stellar collapse that triggered the explosion. The neutrinos were detected in underground labs on February 23, before light from the supernova arrived.
Supernova Memories
I first heard of Supernova 1987A when a crowd gathered around the soda machine just outside my then-office at NASA’s Goddard Space Flight Center. Word of the discovery had just come in, and I overheard them passing the news around.  Â
Later, after I had flown to Chile, met the young Canadian discoverer of the supernova and seen it myself from a hotel balcony, I wrote an account for Smithsonian magazine, which sent me there. This was all done on vacation time and on nights and weekends, with written approval from the Space Agency for such “outside activity†of a business nature.
The magazine is published and before you know it a NASA lawyer calls me. “You used inside information in Smithsonian magazine,†he accused (or words to that effect). I couldn’t imagine what he meant — I hadn’t divulged the slightest secret, I didn’t even know any secret.  It turned out that my offense consisted of mentioning in the magazine that I learned of the supernova by overhearing a crowd at the Coke machine.Â
According to the legal eagle, if I didn’t work for NASA, I wouldn’t have overheard the office gossip and thus couldn’t have told the anecdote in print. Allegedly, I was improperly profiting from “information gained in an official capacity.” Nowadays, NASA lawyers have more to worry about. At least they didn’t transfer me to the tracking station on Guam, force me to deny the Big Bang and Global Warming, or refer my case to the Federal courts.
Meanwhile, astronomers from such places as Penn State, Columbia University, NASA Goddard and what was then West Germany were cobbling together payloads and heading to test ranges in the Australian outback, to launch sounding rockets in search of X-rays from the supernova and balloon instruments to detect gamma rays. Some experiments were successful, but there were problems, as I was told by a young Pennsylvania physicist who participated. There are all kinds of kangaroos around, he said, and they’re not on the NASA team. The worst were a certain species of little ones. At night you didn’t see them until they hopped in front of your speeding car on a dark desert road and burst apart on impact like a bomb. It was much more distressing than the average encounter with a deer or a skunk while driving in the USA – especially for the kangaroos.
One fellow who went down to launch an instrument on short notice was accustomed to eating Kosher food.  Since you might not find a wide selection of that fine cuisine near the Woomera rocket range, he brought along a big package of New York corned beef to tide him over.  I think it was packed in dry ice and in any case it was in his carry-on luggage all the way from the eastern United States to landfall in Australia. All this while, the dry ice would have been dwindling away.  Once in Australia, the traveler had to proceed toward Woomera in a very small commercial plane that made intermediate stops on the desert, like a puddle jumper without many puddles. There’s just no carry-on luggage possible in this little plane – everything must be checked. You’ve guessed the rest- the corned beef was inadvertently unloaded at an intermediate stop and its loss not discovered until the traveler reached his destination. Whether he actually asked the airline “Where’s the beef?” is unknown. The rocket payload may have been successful, but one of the operators probably lost his appetite for foreign travel.
Those weren’t the only problems. In early July, 1987, the Sydney correspondent of Nature magazine, Charles Morgan, filed a story headlined “Aborigines halt Woomer teams’ supernova observations.â€Â According to Charles, the Maralinga Tjarutja people were denying access to part of the land where payloads might land, which could prevent scientists from recovering their equipment after a rocket flight. I think that blew over, because lots of good measurements were made.Â
I haven’t even gotten to the once-famous and now largely forgotten Mystery Spot that seemed to shoot out of Supernova 1987A, nor how the historic audio tapes of the Spot’s discovery were lost forever in checked baggage on an airline. (Doesn’t anyone ever learn? Shouldn’t they heave learned from the case of the missing corned beef?) And some day we must tell the tale of the pulsar in the supernova that has been “discovered†more than once and “disproved†each time it was “found.â€Â They are going to look for it with the Hubble Space Telescope after a new camera is installed in the next servicing mission, and I hope that whether they find it or not, everyone agrees on the results. We’ll save all this for a future blog, if you want to hear it.
Meanwhile, if you want to learn more about Supernova 1987A, I recommend Laurence Marschall’s “The Supernova Story,†now out in paperback, which is as close as we’ve got to an authorized biography.Â
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