My first time…
They say you never forget your first time. Well, I have just returned from my very first “Star Party”. In truth I had to lure the missus there under false pretences.
I had implied that she would be surrounded by Hollywood “A -listers”, and that while I swapped make-up tips with George Clooney, she would be able to swan around with the ‘Stars’, and spend her time discussing cosmetic surgery and Botox injections with the experts.
I think when we rolled up in the caravan at a remote site in the middle of nowhere in Norfolk, she started to twig. Up until that point I had managed to explain away the inclusion of my telescope in the luggage as “the only way to get a close up piccy of the rich ‘n’ famous!”
But there we were, Kelling Heath, Spring star party. The site itself was half full. Apparently it had been fully booked until word got out on the internet that my children were going to be there. I did try to put them in kennels for the weekend, but apparently it is against the law to feed Pedigree Chum to children. How times have changed…….
So we pulled into the field to find we had been placed next door to a beautiful brand new caravan that had never been used before. Like a poor relation we duly parked up, and as the tribe and two rabid dogs exploded out of the vehicle, I could see the concerned looking owner of the new caravan hastily checking his insurance policy. Luckily he had been to the butchers that day, and managed to throw a lump of raw meat out of his window, which kept two of the children and both of the dogs busy, whilst the middle child went off to find telescopes to push over.
You have to give some credit to astronomers, they have to be amongst the most optimistic of people. For there we were, surrounded by dense cloud, every forecast and satellite picture showed worse was on the way, and they STILL got their kit out and set it up. I did likewise just so as not to feel left out, but there didn’t seem to be a hope in hell of seeing a single star.
With the children and dogs caged up, the Missus and I downed a bottle of something sweet and Rosé coloured, and a measure or two of Scotlands finest export, and settled down for the night. At around 1.30am the dogs started barking, and I poked my head out to tell them to shut up before I turned them into rugs, when I noticed the skies had actually cleared somewhat. Still considerably lubricated, I tried to get into the car for some chewing gum, completely forgetting that the helpful Japanese had designed the car as an anti-astronomy device. The six giant indicator lights blazed out, followed by the puddle lights under the wing mirrors. The interior lights shone as bright as day, and a passing light aircraft took a detour and tried to land in the camping field. Thankfully a patrolling steward came over with his hammer and put the lights out, and my punishment was to write 500 lines of “I must not use a motor vehicle to blind people”, and to take round a can of corned beef to every astronomer whose night vision was ruined. Apparently there used to be a certain tent in the corner of the field where errant white light producing folk would be taken and spanked severely, but it proved to be so popular that people were deliberately bringing floodlights.
It should be mentioned I suppose that at the end of the three days, I had learnt all the choice expressions used with regard to them folk what drive around the camp with their lights on, and I even found myself muttering them too.
Before I knew it, dawn was creeping up. There, shining huge and bright was Jupiter. Through the telescope he looked magnificent, and this was the first time I had seen him. Bonus for having stayed up the whole night. I grabbed a couple of photos, crashed inside, only to be rudely awoken at 7am - “C’MON DAD, LETS GO PLAY FOOTBALL!!”
There is more to be told. There is the new faces and friendships, there is the new mount purchased on a whim, there was the awning blowing away, there was the snow, there was the mis-understanding as to the nature of the red light on our caravan, there was the final clear spell after most had gone home, but these stories can wait and be mis-told another time. For now, I will let a limerick tell the rest of the tale.
My First Time…..
So I’m back from my first Star Camp,
The weather was cloudy and damp,
But most of the mob,
Had some fun with a Dob.,
Whilst I played around with a lamp.
It’s because I was eager to please,
Those out there starting to freeze,
That I turned my light red,
(The one over the bed),
Didn’t think it would be such a tease.
Like moths to a candle they came,
The wife said they all looked the same,
Old, grey or balding,
She gave them a scolding,
For thinking that she’s on the “game”!
So after the misunderstanding,
The weather was proving demanding,
Some tents blew away,
If it’s right what they say,
It’s down Norwich way that they were landing.
And although it’s in April you go,
You are sometimes pelted with snow,
Or sleet, hail and ice,
Which isn’t so nice
But you just go along with the flow.
I stayed up a whole night till the morning,
And was treated to Jupiter dawning,
But I aint at my best,
On a night without rest,
And ended up grunting and yawning.
On the whole it wasn’t so bad,
Though the locals thought we were mad,
And those that stayed longer,
Though winds had grown stronger,
Enjoyed the best skies to be had.
And I liked my time there at Kelling,
And the stands and stuff they were selling,
So I got some new kit,
Which cost quite a bit,
But how much I spent I aint telling!
TJ
