ASTRO SPACE NEWS

A DIVISION OF MID NORTH COAST ASTRONOMY (NSW)

(ASTRO) DAVE RENEKE

SPACE WRITER - MEDIA PERSONALITY - SCIENCE CORRESPONDENT ABC/COMMERCIAL RADIO - LECTURER - ASTRONOMY OUTREACH PROGRAMS - ASTRONOMY TOUR GUIDE - TELESCOPE SALES/SERVICE/LESSONS - MID NORTH COAST ASTRONOMY GROUP (Est. 2002)   Enquiries: (02) 6585 2260       Mobile: 0400 636 363        Email: davereneke@gmail.com

Presented by renowned astronomer and media personality, Dave Reneke, the evening will start with a breathtaking Secrets of the Universe slideshow. After the presentation, take a break and head to the top deck for an interactive laser-guided sky tour. Dave will use a high-powered laser to highlight the major stars, constellations, and planets visible that night, As you cruise, be sure to keep an eye out for dolphins, adding to the magic of the experience. These unique cruises run monthly  Enquiries: Elsa 0434 393 199   WEBSITE & Booking Info : https://www.portadventurecruises.com.au/explore-cruises

The Smart Telescope Revolution Has Arrived — And It's a Game-Changer for Amateur Astronomy!

Review by David Reneke, Astronomer – Mid North Coast Astronomy Group, NSW, Australia

We're living through a quiet revolution in backyard astronomy—and it's happening right now. For years, I've told beginners to steer clear of astrophotography. It was too complicated, too expensive, and just too frustrating. You needed a trunk full of gear, a head full of technical knowledge, and patience worthy of a monk.

Not anymore. Thanks to rapid advancements in optics, software, and mobile tech, we're now in a golden age of user-friendly astronomy. One of the most impressive new tools to hit the market is the ZWO Seestar S50, a fully automated smart telescope that allows even first-time users to capture stunning images of the night sky with almost no learning curve. It's not an exaggeration to say this is a game-changer for beginners—and a joy for experienced stargazers looking for something fast and portable.

Let's start with the basics. The Seestar isn't your traditional telescope. In fact, it doesn't even have an eyepiece. That might sound strange at first, but it's by design. This is a dedicated astrophotography telescope—what we call an astrograph. Its job isn't to let you peer through glass lenses, but to let a digital sensor do the seeing for you. Think of it as a telescope that takes photos instead of offering a live view.

The telescope itself is compact and streamlined, about the size of a thermos. It fits comfortably in one hand and weighs just a few kilos. Inside its sleek black housing are all the components you need: optics, tracking motors, camera, filters, and even Wi-Fi to link up with your phone or tablet. The only controls you'll need are in the Seestar mobile app, available for both Apple and Android devices.

From the moment you take it out of the case, setup is a breeze. I've tested many telescope systems in my career, and most require time-consuming polar alignment, calibration, and often some trial and error. With the Seestar, I was capturing usable images in under 10 minutes. If you're setting up on level ground, even better—it takes care of alignment automatically. If not, the app guides you through a simple levelling process. For portable setups, I recommend a sturdy photographic tripod.

One Tap, and You're There

Once the unit is on and connected to the app, everything becomes intuitive. The interface is clean and easy to navigate. Want to image the Moon? Just tap it. Orion Nebula? Tap. The Seestar will slew (move) to the object, focus automatically, and start capturing. The images begin stacking in real time, improving clarity and detail with each exposure.

Even near streetlights and a full Moon, I was getting impressive results. From my Wauchope NSW front yard I imaged bright clusters and nebulae with clarity I hadn't expected from such a small unit. It's equipped with built-in filters, including a dual narrowband filter that boosts contrast in nebulae, and even a solar filter for safe daytime imaging of sunspots. This is particularly exciting now, as we're approaching solar maximum, when sunspot activity is at its peak. The images are saved directly to your device, and you can share them instantly—perfect for outreach events, school nights, or simply impressing your mates on social media. No laptops. No cables. No fiddling.

Smart Simplicity, Serious Performance

Despite its small size, the Seestar S50 packs serious tech. It has a 250mm focal length and a wide 16:9 sensor, which produces high-definition images (1920x1080 resolution). The field of view is ideal for most popular deep-sky objects like star clusters, planetary nebulae, and galaxies. It won't frame large targets like the Andromeda Galaxy or the Pleiades perfectly without some cropping, but that's a small trade-off considering its portability and simplicity.

It also has a dew heater, which you can turn on via the app. A clever touch for dewy coastal nights. And while the Seestar runs on an internal battery (claimed to last up to six hours), I usually keep it plugged into a power bank for extended sessions—especially when imaging longer targets or doing solar work. 

There are no hand controls or fancy buttons. Everything is driven by your phone, and it works. The app includes focus control, slewing options, exposure settings (10, 20, or 30 seconds), and the ability to save raw subframes if you want to process images later with advanced software like PixInsight or Siril. For casual use, though, the onboard stacking and built-in processing are more than enough.

What's in the Box?

The Seestar S50 arrives in a moulded polystyrene case—sturdy and lightweight—with the telescope, a small tabletop tripod, a USB-C charging cable, solar filter, and instruction manual. The tripod legs extend modestly but are best used on stable ground. I recommend upgrading to a standard camera tripod with a 3/8" mount for better stability. The only real drawbacks? Battery life could be better, especially on cooler nights. And while the Seestar handles most objects automatically, the Moon can occasionally throw it off, requiring some manual slewing. There's also some field rotation in long exposures due to the alt-azimuth mount, but it's easily corrected by cropping or processing. None of this, however, affects my overall verdict.

ZWO astronomy cameras are known for their precision engineering, sharp performance, and deep integration with modern astrophotography workflows.  One standout quality is their high quantum efficiency for efficient photon capture, translating into better detail and contrast in deep-sky images.  ZWO offers a wide range of models, from entry-level planetary cameras to full-frame deep-sky imaging powerhouses, all designed with robust build quality and compact form factors. 

Most models support USB 3.0 or higher for fast data transfer, minimizing bottlenecks during high-frame-rate captures. Cooling systems in these cooled cameras help reduce thermal noise. Integration is another strength: ZWO cameras work seamlessly with their ecosystem of accessories like filter wheels, off-axis guiders, ASIAIR control units, and with third-party software like ASIStudio, SharpCap, and NINA. ZWO cameras offer a rare combination of technical performance, modular flexibility, and price-to-value ratio.

Final Thoughts

Simply put… THIS is the greatest advancement in amateur astronomy I have seen in 30 years!!!! The Seestar S50 is the closest thing we have right now to "point-and-shoot" astrophotography. It takes what used to be a highly technical, time-consuming process and makes it accessible, enjoyable, and genuinely exciting—especially for beginners. For $800–$1,000 AUD, it offers incredible value: telescope, mount, tracking, filters, solar imaging, app control—all in one portable package.

I've been in astronomy for around 50 years and I can honestly say I've never seen this kind of beginner-friendly power packed into such a small unit. Whether you're new to astronomy, looking to spice up your observing nights, or want to inspire the next generation through outreach, this is the telescope for you. If you've ever looked up at the stars and thought, "I wish I could take a photo of that,"—well, now you can. And once you do, trust me… you'll be hooked.

Life In Space Without Laundry

Spare a thought for the astronauts aboard the International Space Station (ISS). They may float 400 kilometres above Earth at 28,000 km/h, eating their dinner out of pouches while gazing down at the swirling blue planet below—but they have one very down-to-earth problem: laundry. Or rather, the complete lack of it.

That's right. There is no laundry in space. Not a single washing machine, not even a humble clothesline flapping in the solar breeze. Water is far too precious to waste on a pair of socks, and detergent? Forget it. Every drop of water aboard the ISS is recycled—including, yes, the astronauts' own… contributions. NASA calls it "yesterday's coffee into tomorrow's coffee." It's a closed system. So, the idea of pouring a few litres into a machine to wash gym shorts is, well, laughable.

Instead, astronauts wear their clothes—T-shirts, shorts, undies—over and over until they become too smelly or stiff to tolerate. Then the clothes are bundled into waste capsules, like Northrop Grumman's Cygnus or Russia's Progress spacecraft. These trash ships eventually detach from the station and re-enter Earth's atmosphere, where they burn up in a spectacular, if slightly pungent, fireball. So, somewhere high above your head, last year's astronaut underwear probably blazed a trail of glory before disappearing forever.

Of course, this raises the obvious question: what about hygiene? If they're not washing their clothes, how do astronauts wash themselves? The answer is: very carefully. With no showers or bathtubs in orbit, crew members rely on rinse less-wipes and no-rinse body wash—basically glorified baby wipes—to stay fresh. Hair washing? A no-rinse, waterless shampoo that would make any music festival camper nod in approval.

And the laundry issue is only half the story. Astronauts also wear special nappies—politely called "Maximum Absorbency Garments"—during spacewalks. A spacewalk can last up to eight hours, and once you're zipped inside that million-dollar spacesuit, bathroom breaks are not on the agenda. These nappies are technological marvels, far removed from anything you'd buy at the local chemist, but still, the principle is the same. You go, it absorbs, you carry on fixing the solar panels.

The surprise for many is how long a single set of clothes lasts. A T-shirt might survive a week of workouts before being jettisoned to its fiery doom. Socks? Maybe a little longer. Underwear? NASA, in its infinite wisdom, leaves that decision to the wearer's… discretion.

But here's the kicker: scientists are now developing clothes that kill bacteria on contact or don't smell at all, fabrics that could be worn for months without washing. It's all part of preparing for longer missions—to Mars, for example—where you can't just toss your dirty laundry into the atmosphere. Until then, astronauts will keep re-wearing, keep wiping down, and keep tossing their used clothes into the cosmic incinerator. Space travel may be glamorous, but sometimes it stinks—literally.

You're probably wondering about number ones' and twos'? On the ISS, going to the loo is less "sit and relax" and more "strap in and aim carefully. Astronauts on the International Space Station use specially designed toilets with foot straps and thigh bars to stay in place. Urine is collected by a hose with gentle suction and processed into drinking water. Solid waste goes into a small, lined container, sealed, and stored for disposal on cargo ships. Everything relies on airflow, not gravity, to keep things tidy in microgravity conditions.

Picture the newborn Earth: a molten, restless world spinning silently in space, its surface a hellscape of lava oceans and choking vapors. No oceans, no clouds, no hint of green or blue. It was a planet waiting for life—but with none of the ingredients needed to create it.

For all its drama, early Earth lacked the essentials: water, carbon, hydrogen—volatile elements that make oceans flow and life tick. The stage for biology was set, but the script was blank.

And then came the cosmic twist.

Recent research into Earth's earliest years suggests our planet was missing these life-giving elements simply because it formed too close to the Sun. That hot inner zone of the solar system was no place for delicate compounds. It baked them away before they could settle into the rocks and soil of the forming planet. Earth's early body, it turns out, was chemically barren—a beautiful but empty shell.

But space, as it so often does, had surprises in store.

Somewhere beyond Earth's orbit, in the colder reaches of the young solar system, small planets and asteroids were quietly hoarding the very stuff Earth lacked: water ice, carbon compounds, the raw chemistry of oceans and air. As Earth spun along in its lonely orbit, one such body—scientists believe it may have been a Mars-sized planet now known as Theia—wandered too close.

The collision was inevitable.

What happened next was both cataclysmic and miraculous. Theia slammed into Earth in a titanic impact that likely blasted our Moon into existence from the debris. But along with fire and fury came a delivery of priceless cargo: water and volatiles from Theia's distant birthplace, now mixing into Earth's mantle and atmosphere. Without this single chance event, the story of Earth might have ended as a barren rock, forever lifeless beneath a silent sky.

The irony is striking. Life on Earth may owe its existence not to gentle nurturing but to a single act of cosmic violence. Without that collision, there may have been no oceans, no atmosphere—and no us.

Scientists now see this as a turning point in planetary history. Earth formed quickly, within the first few million years of the solar system's birth, but the essential ingredients for habitability came later, in this spectacular, unlikely way. Life, it seems, owes its start to both timing and sheer celestial luck.

And that raises a tantalizing question: how many other worlds out there formed too close to their stars, missing their chance at life unless fate delivered a similar gift from the cosmos? Are habitable planets common—or as rare as this single, ancient impact?

The answers remain hidden in the stardust of deep time. But one thing seems clear: Earth as we know it exists because, long ago, a wandering planet collided with ours and left behind the spark of possibility. Sometimes, it seems, you really do need a little chaos to create life.

The "Wow!" Signal: A Cosmic Mystery That Just Got Louder

Back in August 1977, on a warm Ohio night, a radio telescope known as "Big Ear" picked up something so strange, so unexpected, that the astronomer on duty, Jerry Ehman, grabbed a pen, circled the printout, and scrawled one word in the margin: "Wow!" That single word has become legend. For nearly five decades, the Wow! signal has been held up as perhaps the most tantalizing hint that we might not be alone in the universe. 

And now, thanks to new analysis, this cosmic riddle has grown even more intriguing. A recent study has found that the mysterious signal was far stronger than anyone realized. Stronger means rarer. Stronger means more unusual. Stronger means… well, let's just say that whatever caused it wasn't your average cosmic burp.

For years, astronomers have debated the origin of this powerful blast of radio waves. Was it a natural celestial event? A long-forgotten comet? Or—cue the dramatic music—could it have been a message from somewhere out there?

The new research is breathing fresh life into this decades-old mystery. Volunteers painstakingly processed 75,000 pages of original data—yes, actual paper printouts—from the 1970s using modern scanning technology. For the first time, computers were able to dig deep into the raw signal itself, uncovering details that had been hidden for decades.

And here's where it gets interesting:

• Scientists have pinpointed the signal's location in the sky with far greater accuracy. They've corrected an old mistake in calculating the signal's frequency—revealing that the source may have been spinning rapidly as it emitted those strange waves. The data also rules out anything human-made. There were no satellites, no TV stations, no stray signals bouncing off Earth to blame this on.

This wasn't a glitch. It wasn't interference. It was real. And it came from deep space. Now, before we start packing our bags for first contact, scientists caution that "astronomical" doesn't automatically mean "alien." It could still be some weird, as-yet-unknown space phenomenon. The universe is full of mysteries, after all.

But one thing is certain: whatever happened on that August night nearly 50 years ago, it left behind a signal so unusual, so powerful, that it continues to captivate astronomers, amateur sleuths, and daydreamers alike. The universe spoke—or maybe just cleared its throat—and for 72 seconds in 1977, we heard it. And now, thanks to modern science, we know it was even louder than we thought.

Somewhere out there, 40 light-years from Earth, a planet glitters in the darkness of space like a cosmic treasure chest. Its name? 55 Cancri e. Its claim to fame? Astronomers believe it might be made largely of carbon—and under the searing heat and crushing pressure on its surface, much of that carbon could be in the form of diamond. Yes, you read that right: a real diamond planet.

This isn't science fiction. Discovered in 2004, 55 Cancri e orbits a star similar to our Sun in the constellation of Cancer. It's what astronomers call a "super-Earth"—a rocky planet far bigger than our own. Twice Earth's size and eight times heavier, it hugs its star so closely that a single year there lasts just 18 hours. No long weekends on this world. The planet's surface temperature? A toasty 2,400 degrees Celsius. Hot enough to melt metal… and most likely you, too.

But what makes 55 Cancri e sparkle in the cosmic spotlight isn't its heat or size. It's its chemistry. Astronomers studying its mass and composition concluded the planet is extremely rich in carbon, and with all that pressure and furnace-like heat, much of it could be crystallised as diamond.

Imagine that for a moment: an entire world studded with diamonds—mountains of them, perhaps an entire crust glittering like a jeweller's dream. On Earth, diamonds are precious because they're rare, born deep underground under just the right conditions. But on 55 Cancri e, diamonds might be as common as rocks in your backyard.

Of course, before you start packing your space pickaxe and planning to corner the galactic jewellery market, there are a few tiny problems. First, there's the little matter of getting there—40 light-years is no small hop. Even travelling at the speed of the fastest spacecraft ever built, it would take hundreds of thousands of years to reach 55 Cancri e.

Second, the planet isn't exactly welcoming. That blistering heat, the lack of atmosphere as we know it, and the ferocious gravity would crush and cook any would-be space prospector long before they even had a chance to say, "Mine!"

So, for now, 55 Cancri e remains a glittering cosmic curiosity, a reminder that the universe has a sense of extravagance far beyond human imagination. It also challenges how we think about planets themselves. We grew up learning about worlds like Earth, Mars, and Jupiter—but 55 Cancri e shows us that alien worlds can be stranger and more exotic than anything in science fiction.

Will we ever get there? Perhaps one day, with technologies that now exist only in the dreams of scientists and sci-fi writers. Until then, 55 Cancri e sparkles far away, a cosmic diamond locked in the velvet vault of space, teasing us with its wealth and mystery.

The universe, it seems, really does like to show off.

Quantum Entanglement: The Universe's Strangest Connection

Imagine two tiny particles, each smaller than an atom, connected by an invisible thread so strong that no amount of distance can break it. Put one particle in a lab on Earth and the other on the far side of the galaxy, and they will still behave as though they are joined together. Change one instantly, and the other reacts at the same moment—no matter how far apart they are.

This is quantum entanglement—a phenomenon so strange that even Albert Einstein, one of the greatest minds in history, struggled to accept it. He famously called it "spooky action at a distance," because, well… it is.

Here's the simple version. In the world of quantum physics—the science of the very, very small—particles sometimes interact in ways that link their properties together. When this happens, the two particles become "entangled." It doesn't matter how far apart they are taken after that; measuring one instantly gives you information about the other.

But there's more. It's not just that one "knows" what the other is doing. The two particles behave as if they are part of the same system, as though space itself doesn't matter. If you measure one particle's spin, the other particle's spin will be locked in a perfect relationship with it—even if they are light-years apart.

And it happens instantly. Not at the speed of light. Not even after the tiniest fraction of a second. Instantly. That's what baffled Einstein. According to everything he knew about physics, nothing could affect something else faster than the speed of light. Yet here were particles, apparently ignoring the rules.

For decades, scientists argued about whether this was real or just a strange mathematical trick. Some thought there must be "hidden variables" we couldn't see, some unknown mechanism linking the particles in a way that didn't break physics as we knew it.

Then, in the 1960s, physicist John Bell came up with a clever test. He developed mathematical inequalities—now called Bell's Theorem—that could prove whether entanglement was real or not. Experiments since then have confirmed it over and over again: there are no hidden signals, no secret wires connecting the particles. Quantum entanglement is real. It is part of the way the universe works.

So what can we do with this mind-bending phenomenon? Scientists are already exploring how to use entanglement in technology. One idea is quantum teleportation, where information about a particle's state can be transmitted instantly across space. Another is quantum communication—systems that could make unbreakable encryption possible, because any attempt to eavesdrop on the signal would destroy the entanglement and be instantly detectable. 

And then there are quantum computers, which could one day solve problems so complex that even today's fastest supercomputers would be left in the dust. It all sounds like science fiction, but much of it is already being tested in laboratories around the world. China, for instance, has launched satellites that use quantum entanglement for secure communication experiments across thousands of kilometers.

But perhaps the most intriguing part of all this is what it tells us about reality itself. Entanglement hints that the universe might be far more connected than we think. That maybe nothing is truly separate, and space and time are not as solid and absolute as they seem. Quantum entanglement isn't just a curiosity for scientists. It's a window into a universe that is stranger, deeper, and far more mysterious than we ever imagined—and it might just change the way we understand everything.

Imagine climbing aboard a spacecraft bound for the Andromeda galaxy, traveling so fast that you're brushing against the ultimate cosmic speed limit: the speed of light. To you, the journey might feel like a mere seven years—just a blink of time in your life. But when you finally return to Earth, you discover something almost unimaginable: five million years have passed. Entire civilizations, landscapes, and histories have vanished or transformed. You've leapt far into the future without even leaving your seat.

This astonishing effect is called time dilation, a real phenomenon predicted by Einstein's theory of special relativity. The faster you move, the slower time ticks for you compared to everyone left behind. Atomic clocks on jets and satellites have confirmed it—this isn't science fiction; it's the very fabric of reality.

The faster you go, the more extreme it becomes. At ordinary speeds, the effect is tiny—a fraction of a second here or there—but as you approach light speed, it explodes. Your seven years of travel could span millions of years in the outside universe. To you, life seems normal: you age, eat, sleep, laugh, and grow older at the usual pace. But the world you left behind races ahead at a pace you can barely comprehend.

Now imagine the emotional weight of returning home. You would step off your ship into a future utterly alien. Species might have evolved, continents reshaped, and human civilization transformed beyond recognition. Even your closest descendants could be myths in a storybook of history. Coping with this forward leap in time isn't just a technical challenge—it's a profound psychological journey. How do you relate to a world that has lived through millions of years while you only aged seven?

Time dilation also shapes the technology we rely on every day. GPS satellites, zipping around the Earth, must account for the tiny differences in time caused by their motion, or our maps would be hopelessly wrong. On a cosmic scale, it hints at an almost magical possibility: space travel becomes a voyage not just across distance, but across time itself.

Every high-speed journey through the stars is a peek into a universe far stranger than our stationary eyes can perceive. Traveling at near-light speed would allow humans to glimpse the future, experiencing the universe's grand evolution firsthand. It's a thrilling, humbling, and slightly terrifying thought: speed is not just motion—it's a portal through time, bending reality itself and showing us the true power and mystery of the cosmos.

Imagine standing at the edge of a lunar crater, Earth rising like a pale marble in the black sky above, while solar panels lie useless under two weeks of pitch-dark night. This is the paradox of lunar living: dazzling sunshine followed by an unrelenting freeze that halts even the most advanced solar-powered ambitions.

Proposed spacecraft could carry up to 2,400 people on a one-way trip to the nearest star system, Alpha Centauri.

Imagine a spacecraft so huge it could carry more than 2,000 people on a one-way trip to another star. That's the idea behind Chrysalis, a futuristic ship designed to travel to Alpha Centauri, the closest star system to our own.

Space Babies: Floating Births, Cosmic Radiation, and the Astonishing Future of Pregnancy Beyond Earth

The idea of having a baby in space sounds like something straight out of science fiction. But as humans push further into the cosmos, the question isn't if it will happen — it's when. And that opens up a whole universe of challenges, fears, and thrilling possibilities.

Picture it: a baby born in zero gravity. No heavy tugs from Earth's pull. Instead, a tiny newborn gently floating in the cabin of a spacecraft, free as a balloon at a birthday party. It's a breathtaking — and slightly surreal — vision of the future.

But space is no gentle nursery. One of the greatest threats to a space pregnancy is cosmic radiation. On Earth, our thick atmosphere and magnetic field act like a shield. In deep space, though, expectant mothers and their unborn children are exposed to radiation storms unleashed by the Sun and distant stars. Scientists worry this could affect development. But engineers are already working on solutions: shielded cabins, protective suits, even "safe rooms" aboard future spacecraft designed just for mums-to-be.

Then there's the wild card: zero gravity itself. On Earth, gravity plays a big role in how our bodies develop, grow, and even give birth. In space, the rules change. How would labour work when there's no "down"? Would contractions be stronger or weaker? Would the baby's first cries echo differently inside a pressurised cabin? Doctors admit — we simply don't know. And that mystery is both frightening and fascinating.

Yet, human beings are built for adaptation. Throughout history, we've crossed oceans, climbed mountains, and colonised lands that once seemed impossible. Space is just the next frontier. Experts believe that with enough preparation, technology, and care, the first generation of "space babies" could thrive. Imagine children who have never known Earth's gravity, who grow up running along the walls of a Moon base or playing ball in a Martian dome.

Far from being a nightmare, the idea of raising families beyond Earth could actually be humanity's greatest adventure. It means we're not just visiting space — we're learning to live there. And the first space birth, when it happens, will be remembered as one of history's happiest milestones.

So yes, space pregnancy comes with danger, questions, and a touch of fear. But it also holds the promise of new life in the most extraordinary place imaginable. One day, someone will be the first baby born beyond Earth — and that child will carry not just a name, but a legacy: proof that humanity's story is written in the stars.

                   Jim Lovell - A Life That Reached for the Stars 

Astronaut James A. "Jim" Lovell Jr., one of NASA's most respected pioneers, has passed away at the age of 97. Known to millions as the calm, unflappable commander of Apollo 13, Lovell's life was a remarkable blend of daring exploration, quiet heroism, and humble leadership.

Born in Cleveland, Ohio, on March 25, 1928, Lovell grew up in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, raised by his mother after losing his father at a young age. After high school, he attended the University of Wisconsin before transferring to the United States Naval Academy, graduating in 1952. He became a Navy test pilot, logging thousands of hours in the air before being chosen in 1962 as part of NASA's second group of astronauts.

Lovell flew four historic missions. In 1965, he joined Frank Borman on Gemini 7 for a two-week endurance flight, which included the first American rendezvous with another spacecraft. The following year, he commanded Gemini 12, the program's final mission, proving vital techniques for space travel.

In 1968, Lovell was part of Apollo 8, the first mission to orbit the Moon. From the spacecraft's windows, he witnessed the breathtaking sight of Earth rising above the lunar horizon — an image that would become one of the most iconic photographs in history.

Then came Apollo 13 in April 1970. Originally intended to be his chance to walk on the Moon, the mission turned into a desperate fight for survival when an oxygen tank exploded two days into the flight. Lovell's calm leadership, in close cooperation with mission control, transformed what could have been a tragedy into what NASA later called a "successful failure." His words, "Houston, we've had a problem," became part of history. Though they never reached the lunar surface, Lovell and his crew returned home safely after six tense days in space.

Over his career, Lovell logged more than 715 hours in space and became the first person to fly to the Moon twice, though he never landed there. His contributions were recognized with numerous awards, including the Presidential Medal of Freedom and the Congressional Space Medal of Honor.

After leaving NASA and the Navy in 1973, Lovell entered the business world, taking on executive roles and even opening a restaurant near Chicago. Despite the fame Apollo 13 brought him, he remained grounded, often crediting teamwork rather than personal heroics for his success.

Jim Lovell died on August 7, 2025, at his home in Lake Forest, Illinois, surrounded by family. He is survived by four children, eleven grandchildren, and nine great-grandchildren. His wife, Marilyn, his partner of 71 years, passed away in 2023.

Actor Tom Hanks, who portrayed Lovell in the film Apollo 13, offered a moving tribute: "His many voyages around Earth and on to so-very-close to the moon were not made for riches or celebrity… On this night of a full Moon, he passes on — to the heavens, to the cosmos, to the stars. God speed you, on this next voyage, Jim Lovell."

Lovell's story is not just about space exploration, but about grace under pressure, quiet determination, and the belief that even in the face of overwhelming odds, there is always a way home. He may not have walked on the Moon, but he left footprints in history that will never fade.

A comet going 130,000 mph is visiting our solar system from another star.

The Hubble Space Telescope has just delivered something truly special – the clearest picture yet of a cosmic traveller speeding through our solar system. This is no ordinary comet. It's an interstellar visitor, meaning it came from outside our solar system and is just passing through.

NASA and the European Space Agency released the new image on Thursday, showing the comet in incredible detail. The icy wanderer, officially named 3I-Atlas, was discovered only last month by a telescope in Chile. Despite its beauty and mystery, scientists assure us it poses absolutely no danger to Earth.

Comets are sometimes called "dirty snowballs" – chunks of ice, dust, and rock left over from the birth of planets. Most of the ones we see come from the outer regions of our own solar system. But 3I-Atlas is different. Its speed and unusual path give away its origins: it comes from another star system entirely.

It's only the third known interstellar object ever detected in our cosmic neighbourhood. The first was 'Oumuamua in 2017, a cigar-shaped rock that puzzled scientists with its strange movement. Then came Comet 2I/Borisov in 2019, which looked more like a typical comet but still came from far, far away.

3I-Atlas is racing along at breathtaking speed – around 130,000 miles per hour (210,000 km/h) – far faster than any comet born here. It's on a one-way journey, meaning once it swings around the Sun, it will disappear back into the depths of space, never to return.

For astronomers, catching sight of something like this is a rare and exciting opportunity. Studying an object from another star system can tell us more about how planets and comets form elsewhere in the galaxy. The Hubble's sharp view lets scientists examine its tail, coma (the glowing cloud around the nucleus), and the materials it's shedding as it warms up near the Sun.

So, while it may look like just another bright speck against the darkness, 3I-Atlas is a messenger from a distant part of the universe – a reminder that our solar system isn't isolated. Out there, between the stars, there's a whole population of icy drifters making their lonely way through the galaxy. This one just happened to take a detour past our Sun… and thanks to Hubble, we've got the postcard to prove it.

How much energy does the Sun produce in one hour? 

Let's just say it's enough to make your brain hurt. In just one hour, our Sun releases more energy than all of humanity uses in an entire year. Seriously. Every house lit up, every car driven, every phone charged, every plane flown—all could be powered for a full year by just one single hour of the Sun doing its thing!

So, what exactly is this monstrous powerhouse in the sky? The Sun is a massive, spinning ball of gas, mostly hydrogen and helium, burning at mind-melting temperatures. It's 1.4 million kilometres across, about 109 times wider than Earth. If it were hollow, you could fit a million Earths inside it. But it's not hollow. It's solid fire and fury. At its core, the temperature is a staggering 15 million degrees Celsius. This is nuclear fusion, nature's most efficient furnace.

Every single second, the Sun hurls out around 386 billion billion megawatts of energy. In one second, the Sun pumps out more energy than humans have ever consumed in all of history. Now stretch that out to one hour—that's over 1.4 x 10³⁰ joules. Imagine writing the number 1 followed by 30 zeroes. That's the kind of power we're talking about. It's not just big. It's terrifying.

And here's the kicker: as stars go, the Sun isn't even special. It's a plain old yellow dwarf. It's not one of the giants that live fast and die young. The Sun is average. Ordinary. Typical. And yet to us, it's everything. It holds 99.8% of all the mass in our solar system. It keeps the planets in orbit, drives our climate, powers our food chain, and even plays games with our mood. Without the Sun, Earth would freeze in weeks. Life would vanish. Game over.

The Sun is no newborn. It's about 4.6 billion years old and halfway through its life. It has about another 5 billion years of steady burning left. Then it'll get weird. When the hydrogen runs low, it's bad news; the Sun will swell into a red giant, engulfing Mercury and Venus. Earth? Eventually, the Sun will shed its outer layers, puffing out into space like a dying breath. What's left will be a white dwarf that'll slowly cool for trillions of years, fading into darkness. But don't lose sleep. We've got time—about 50 million centuries.

Could we ever capture all that energy? Well, we're trying. Solar panels are a start, but they're tiny sips from a firehose. Right now, humanity uses only a minuscule fraction of the sunlight that hits Earth. But if we could collect all of it for just one hour, we'd have more energy than we need for an entire year. Futurists even talk about building a Dyson Sphere—a massive structure around the Sun to trap all its energy. For now, it's sci-fi. But in the grand scheme of cosmic history? Maybe not so far-fetched.

So next time you feel the sun on your face, think about what you're touching. You're soaking up light that took eight minutes to travel 150 million kilometres across the void. You're feeling the afterglow of fusion reactions that began before you were born. That gentle warmth? It's the calmest version of unimaginable power.

High above our heads, in the shoulder of Orion the Hunter, Betelgeuse has long gleamed like a warning light in the cosmos. Big, red, and unpredictable, it's a star that's fascinated sky watchers for generations. Sometimes it dims mysteriously. Sometimes it pulses like a cosmic heartbeat. And every now and then, it sparks talk of imminent explosion. But now, a secret hidden for centuries has finally been uncovered: Betelgeuse has a companion. A faint, hidden star has been found orbiting this giant—and it may help solve one of astronomy's oldest riddles.

For over a thousand years, astronomers have puzzled over why Betelgeuse dims every six years. It wasn't the dramatic "Great Dimming" of 2019–2020—that was caused by a cloud of dust puffed out by the star itself. No, this was a quieter, clockwork rhythm that no one could quite explain.

Some suspected a second star was involved, perhaps orbiting so closely and faintly that it had managed to elude even the most powerful space telescopes. But nothing ever showed up—until now. Using the Gemini North telescope in Hawaii, equipped with a special camera named 'Alopeke (Hawaiian for "fox"), a team of astronomers finally captured a direct image of the elusive companion. Think of it as catching a whisper in a thunderstorm. The technique they used, called "speckle imaging," clears away the fuzziness caused by Earth's atmosphere and let them see finer detail than ever before.

And what did they find? A young, hot blue-white star, about one and a half times the mass of our Sun, nestled surprisingly close to Betelgeuse—only four times the distance between Earth and the Sun. That's practically hugging distance in stellar terms. So close, in fact, that it's floating inside Betelgeuse's vast extended atmosphere.

It's a strange match: one star just starting its life, the other nearing the end. Betelgeuse, 700 times the size of our Sun, has burned through its nuclear fuel in just 10 million years. And like all red supergiants, its days are numbered. When it goes, it will explode in a supernova bright enough to outshine the Moon. But before that, something far more unsettling may happen.

The new research suggests Betelgeuse won't go alone. Within the next 10,000 years—a blink in cosmic time—it may pull its smaller companion into its fiery depths and devour it. A slow-motion stellar cannibalism is unfolding, one we're only now beginning to glimpse.

Astronomers will get another chance to observe this companion in 2027, when it swings out to its widest distance from Betelgeuse. But already, this discovery opens new doors in understanding how giant stars behave, especially those that flicker and fade over time. For all its fame and brightness, Betelgeuse has kept this secret hidden for centuries. Now, a fox-eyed telescope has helped lift the veil. In the grand theatre of the cosmos, even the brightest stars can harbor shadows.

What Would Be the Scariest Message Humanity Could Receive from Space?

Imagine this: Earth finally receives its first confirmed signal from an alien civilization. Anticipation buzzes across the planet. Scientists gather, politicians hold their breath, the world tunes in… only to find the message is a familiar one. It's a grainy broadcast from 1936, the opening ceremony of the Berlin Olympics—featuring none other than Adolf Hitler.

No, this isn't a bizarre sci-fi plot twist. That particular broadcast was one of the first strong television signals powerful enough to escape Earth's atmosphere. As SETI astronomer Seth Shostak explained, "It was at a high frequency that might make it through the ionosphere." Though it's extremely unlikely aliens would actually pick it up—it was weak and broadcast in all directions—it sparks an unsettling thought: what if our first impression to the cosmos is history's worst PR moment?

In the film Contact, this is exactly what happens. Aliens return our signal without understanding its content—essentially saying "hello" by sending us a message of hatred. It's a cosmic miscommunication of epic proportions. But that's just the start of what could go wrong. The real chills begin when you imagine the other types of messages we might receive.

What if we picked up a signal that simply said, "We are on our way"?
No details. No origin. Just the cold announcement. That's the kind of vague transmission that would freeze world leaders in their tracks and send scientists scrambling. Or worse: what if the message said, "We know you're there. We've always known"?

Suddenly, we're not alone—we never were. According to the Zoo Hypothesis, alien civilizations might already be watching us. We could be the unaware animals in a galactic safari park, with intelligent beings observing us until we're advanced—or behaved—enough to be contacted. What if their message said, "Welcome. You're ready." Ready for what? It might be uplifting—or it might mean we've just been promoted from observation to participation in some kind of cosmic trial.

There's also the unnerving idea behind one solution to the Fermi Paradox: that advanced civilizations are silent because they're hiding. Maybe they learned the hard way that broadcasting your presence is dangerous. And if we hear a message from space, is it a friendly greeting—or a baited trap?

All this speculation hinges on SETI—the Search for Extraterrestrial Intelligence. Today, SETI researchers around the globe scan the skies, using radio telescopes to listen for unnatural signals from deep space. So far? Silence. But the search continues, growing more sophisticated every year, using AI, wide-spectrum analysis, and even optical methods.

Still, perhaps the scariest message of all would be… no message. What if there's nothing out there? No civilizations, no watchers, no galactic neighbors. Just us. Alone. That may be more frightening than hostile aliens—because it means we're it. The lone spark of intelligence in a vast, cold universe. If we screw it up here, there may be no second chance, anywhere.

So, next time you stare at the night sky and wonder who's out there, just remember—it's not just a question of if they exist, but what they might say when they finally call. And what if… they already have?

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'ASTRO DAVE' RENEKE - A Personal Perspective

I've often been asked what I do, where I've been and what sort of activities I've engaged in throughout my 50 years involvement in astronomy and space. Here is an interview i did with Delving with Des Kennedy on Rhema 99.9 recently. 

David Reneke, a highly regarded Australian amateur astronomer and lecturer with over 50 years of experience, has established himself as a prominent figure in the field of astronomy. With affiliations to leading global astronomical institutions, 

David serves as the Editor for Australia's Astro-Space News Magazine and has previously held key editorial roles with Sky & Space Magazine and Australasian Science magazine. 

His extensive background includes teaching astronomy at the college level, being a featured speaker at astronomy conventions across Australia, and contributing as a science correspondent for both ABC and commercial radio stations. David's weekly radio interviews, reaching around 3 million listeners, cover the latest developments in astronomy and space exploration.

As a media personality, David's presence extends to regional, national, and international TV, with appearances on prominent platforms such as Good Morning America, American MSNBC news, the BBC, and Sky News in Australia. His own radio program has earned him major Australasian awards for outstanding service.

David is recognized for his engaging and unique style of presenting astronomy and space discovery, having entertained and educated large audiences throughout Australia. In addition to his presentations, he produces educational materials for beginners and runs a popular radio program in Hastings, NSW, with a substantial following and multiple awards for his radio presentations.

In 2004, David initiated the 'Astronomy Outreach' program, touring primary and secondary schools in NSW to provide an interactive astronomy and space education experience. Sponsored by Tasco Australia, Austar, and Discovery Science channel, the program donated telescopes and grants to schools during a special tour in 2009, contributing to the promotion of astronomy education in Australia. BELOW Is the recorded interview  

'Astro Dave' Is Radio-Active 

Heard On DOZENS Of Stations Weekly - CLICK for past interviews