The Eclipse
Saturday 8 March
Once again, we were treated to a superb view of Hale-Bopp out
our window as we traversed the dark Mongolian countryside. Even
through the window, I could easily make out a 4o curved
dust tail, and an 8o straight ion tail. The train pulled
into Ulaan Baatar station at 6:25 am, and we were taken by bus to our
home for the next 5 days, the Chinggis Khan Hotel and Convention Centre.
The original tour itinerary had us staying in a hotel in Darhan, right
on the centre-line of the eclipse path. However, it emerged later that
several tour groups all thought they had "exclusive" bookings on the one
hotel in Darhan, so we were changed at the last minute to some place in
Ulaan Baatar. Our initial concerns that we would all be sleeping in
gers (the felt tents used by the nomadic Mongolians) soon
evaporated as we settled into the 5 star luxury of the hotel - they
even had complimentary slippers! Here we had a chance to rest up before
our midnight departure by bus for Darhan. Despite getting less
than 6 hours sleep on the train, a few of us decided to go on a preliminary
reconnaissance (more on Ulaan Baatar later).
By this stage, our original group of 30 or so from Explorers Tours that had set out from Waterloo station 12 days earlier had swelled to 250, as those on other itineraries converged on Mongolia for the Big Event. Just before dinner, we were given a "Pre-Eclipse Briefing" by Dr. John Mason, on what to look out for during the eclipse, as well as some background on the history of dinosaur finds in Mongolia. It was at this time that we learnt that the Mongolian government, never one to miss an opportunity, had decided to levy a US$10 "Eclipse Tax" on anyone heading north from Ulaan Baatar (hereafter UB). This was pretty easy to impose, as there is only one road (I hesitate to describe it as a highway) leading north from UB. To be fair, we did get a nice laminated badge for our $10, as well as being whisked through all the army checkpoints. For an extra US$25, you could get a medallion, as well as a certificate (signed personally by the Mongolian President!) to mark the occasion. I passed, and instead bought 3 special "Eclipse Stamps" for the postcards I had bought to send home. Unfortunately, the regular stamps I bought for sending postcards to friends must have been for "camel class", as they took almost 3 months to arrive. If anyone reading this is still waiting for their postcard, then I apologise!
At dinner that night (in the "European" restaurant), I found myself sitting
across from Brian May, of "Queen" fame. I had heard that prior to joining
Queen, he had in fact graduated with a PhD in astronomy from Imperial
College London. So rather than ask him the usual "So how did you feel
after Freddie Mercury died?", I asked him what he did for his PhD. He
told me he had been studying the Zodiacal Light (sunlight scattered by
dust from comets in the solar system, occasionally visible before and
after twilight) using a device called a Fabry-Perot interferometer. When
I mentioned that I had been working with just such an instrument in
Australia (see my
UNSWIRF
home page), he showed some interest. But it was apparent he
just wanted to be left alone, to enjoy the eclipse like anyone else.
I went to bed that night at 8:30 pm, and managed to get some shut-eye
before getting up just before midnight to prepare for....
Sunday 9 March - E Day!
Just after midnight, our group boarded a fleet of buses and minibuses for the (supposedly 4 hour) journey north to Darhan. I found myself wedged into a minibus with 18 others, plus all their gear. There wasn't much need for seatbelts (and there weren't any anyway). After a glorious blue sky yesterday, things were a bit hazy as we drove through the outskirts of UB, an impressive convoy of 12 buses and 2 escort vehicles, all with their hazard lights flashing. The main north-south highway through Mongolia is less of a highway, more a succession of potholes, linked by asphalt. I'm sure at least of the 4WDs crazily trying to overtake us fell into one, and did not come out. After about 3 hours, we stopped in the middle of nowhere in order to get our first view of Hale-Bopp under a dark sky, and without windows. Even with the cirrus, it was still spectacular. An hour later, when we should have been in Darhan, light snow was falling, and many were wondering if we should turn back, or drive on and try to beat the weather.
We finally arrived in Darhan at 6:15 am, where the weather was still
grey and overcast. While we all queued outside the restaurant for
breakfast, we were given two options: either stay in Darhan, which was
on the path of totality, or re-board the buses straight away and
continue north, hoping to clear the front heading south. Most of
us elected to skip breakfast and a comfort stop, and drive on.
By 8:15 am (1/2 an hour before totality), we realised the situation
was pretty grim, so we made our driver pull over at a spot where we
could at least make out a fuzzy blob of light that was the
partially-eclipsed Sun.
Many others had reached the same decision, and there were quite a few
vehicles spread out across this location (including one jeep that got
itself bogged in snow). We were to learn later that the convoy from
Explorers Tours had become rather spread out, owing to poor communication,
and that our group leaders, including John Mason and Hazel McGee, were
about 10 miles further up the road in marginally better conditions. You
pays your money, and you takes your chances...
I set up my tripod and took this photo, and as you can see, the Sun had
now disappeared completely behind clouds. By 5 minutes before second
contact (the moment when the Moon's disk first completely covers the
Sun's), the sky seemed somewhat darker, but this could just have been
the thickening cloud. As totality approached, the western sky did get
darker, signalling the arrival of the Moon's shadow over this desolate
spot in Mongolia. The onset of totality was not at all obvious, but the
sky continued to get progressively darker. Normally during a total solar
eclipse, my mind is racing as this is the time to take in all the amazing
sights around you. Since I was clearly going to miss the best of this
eclipse, I felt surprisingly relaxed, and the 2 1/2 minutes of totality
seemed to pass quite slowly.
Just before third contact, the cloud thinned a little, and we at least
were given a dim, fuzzy view of the famous "Diamond Ring" effect, when
the first bit of Sun is uncovered by the Moon.
I was able to watch the first moments of the partial phases without
filters, as the cloud provided more than enough attenuation to make the
solar crescent comfortably visible.
Much to our annoyance, the Sun continued to emerge from the cloud, such
that if totality had occurred just 5 minutes later (or we had been another
few miles up the road), we could have seen almost the entire thing.
But a half-hour later, it was totally overcast again. Far from feeling
disappointed at losing what would have been my 3rd solar eclipse to cloud,
I felt excited, and happy just to have made it this far, and be under the
Moon's shadow again. It was certainly different from my 2 previous eclipses!
By my reckoning, it got down to -7o C during the eclipse. My
toes were a bit cold even with 2 pairs of socks and snow boots, but the
rest of me was pretty snug under sweat pants, ski pants, a brushed cotton
shirt, the jersey my Mum had knitted for me especially for this occasion
(thanks Mum!), an alpaca scarf, and of course, my Russian hat.
After the excitement of the eclipse, it was time to board the buses for
the long trek back to Darhan for breakfast/lunch, and then on to UB. How
the driver stayed awake all those hours, I'll never know, but I'm sure glad
he did! We stopped a few times along the way so he could rest, and rub snow
on his brow to help keep him alert. Normally after an eclipse, people are
lost in their thoughts as they reflect on the spectacle they have just
witnessed. Today they simply slept, despite the weaving of the bus.
This was our bus driver, whose name I never did get, but he certainly
deserved the tip we gave him for his driving prowess. Notice the handsome
tunic and friendly grin he wore. Mongolia had seen nothing like the
influx of visitors for this eclipse (though somne reports later indicated
that as few as 2000 people came to Mongolia specially for the eclipse),
and probably will see not see anything like it again for a long time.
Another reaon we stopped on the way back to UB was to watch the running
of the "Mongolian Derby". Apparently, these horsemen were on their way
to a big race meeting, and were only too happy to show off their legendary
prowess with horses for us. One of our party (a clergyman no less) wanted
to stay longer as he had placed a bet on who would win, but the rest of us
were just too tired, and urged the driver to carry on.
We arrived back at the Chinggis Khan at 4:30 pm, where I found the best
thing to unwind after the long bumpy ride was a nice hot bath. As if to
taunt us, the Sun put on a spectacular show at sunset that evening,
showing itself to be none the worse for wear after its close encounter
with the Moon. "Better luck next time" was what it seemed to be saying.
In any case, our journey was far from over. Having come all this way,
we were looking forward to spending some time getting to know the real
Mongolia.