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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
WANT A HOLIDAY THAT'S LITERALLY 'OUT OF THIS WORLD?'
NOW IN OUR FIFTH YEAR ON NORFOLK ISLAND
WHAT THEY'RE SAYING.....
"Absolutely amazing!! I Learned so much. Dave's knowledge is amazing, and he made it sound so simple. What a great night, not what I expected! It's an awesome introduction to the night sky for first timers through the large telescope. Maureen Rivendell." Port Macquarie.
"This evening changed forever my understanding of the night sky. We saw 100km wide Moon craters, Jupiter and Saturn up close, amazing star clusters. Highly recommended for the entire family!" Ken Sorenson. Adelaide
" Thanks so much Dave for a night we will never forget! The impact has been huge on our kids, especially those incredible close-up views of the Moon, and I have pics I took to prove it . Will re-book." Karen Amato. Wauchope NSW See the * SEE our FB Page https://norfolkislandtravel.co/stargazing-with-dave/
* Check our Video of NF Island here: https://www.facebook.com/reel/1019728771019070/?fs=e&fs=e
Warrumbungle National Park has once again put regional NSW on the world stage, recently being ranked the second-best stargazing destination on the planet in the 2026 Clean Sky Index. The Warrumbungles were recognised for their low light pollution, accessibility and internationally-recognised Dark Sky status.
As Australia's first Dark Sky Park, Warrumbungle National Park continues to attract visitors from across the country and around the world, providing unforgettable views of the Milky Way, planets and meteor showers, alongside the world-class Siding Spring Observatory.This recognition is a testament to the region's unique natural assets. Congratulations to everyone involved in preserving this remarkable destination and showcasing the very best of regional NSW to the world.
There is something wonderfully appropriate about a telescope named after Nancy Grace Roman being on the verge of opening a new window on the cosmos. Roman was an astronomer who helped shape NASA's space-astronomy program and became known as the "mother of Hubble". Now, decades after she helped champion the idea of powerful space telescopes, an observatory carrying her name is preparing to take astronomy into another era.
The Nancy Grace Roman Space Telescope is scheduled for launch on August 30, 2026, aboard a SpaceX Falcon Heavy from Florida. Roman will not replace the James Webb Space Telescope, nor will it replace Hubble. Instead, it will do something they are not particularly good at doing: survey enormous areas of the sky quickly and deeply. Imagine photographing a postage stamp with a magnificent camera. You might see every detail. Now imagine photographing an entire city from above. You would lose some detail, but suddenly you could see the whole picture. That's Roman's great strength.
Its wide-field camera will survey huge regions of the universe, helping astronomers investigate dark energy, dark matter, galaxies and planets orbiting other stars. NASA expects the telescope eventually to image billions of galaxies. One particularly exciting target is the search for planets beyond our Solar System. Roman will use a technique called gravitational microlensing. When a star passes in front of a more distant star, its gravity bends and magnifies the background starlight. If a planet accompanies the foreground star, its presence can briefly reveal itself in the pattern of light. This technique could uncover planets that are otherwise extremely difficult to find, including distant worlds wandering in the colder outer regions of planetary systems.
But perhaps Roman's greatest gift will be the things nobody expects. That is what makes astronomy so exciting. The most important discoveries are often the ones scientists weren't looking for. Hubble showed us galaxies, nebulae and strange structures nobody had imagined. Webb has found unexpectedly mature galaxies in the early universe and mysterious objects such as the "little red dots". Roman will survey such enormous portions of the sky that astronomers expect it to uncover new phenomena simply because it is looking at so much of the universe.
And there is something rather moving about that. Nancy Grace Roman spent much of her career helping create the future of space astronomy. Now, a telescope bearing her name is about to go looking for the next great surprise. The universe has been waiting. Soon, Roman will start listening
High above Coonabarabran in northern New South Wales, beneath some of Australia's darkest and clearest skies, stands one of the nation's great scientific landmarks — the Anglo-Australian Telescope.
Opened in 1974, the AAT has spent more than five decades probing the universe, helping shape Australian astronomy, training generations of scientists and contributing to discoveries that have changed our understanding of the cosmos. Now, however, its future is uncertain.
Last Light at Siding Spring is a community campaign seeking a managed and meaningful future for the AAT, Australia's largest optical telescope and, for decades, the scientific heart of the Warrumbungle region.
This is about far more than preserving an ageing telescope. It is about ensuring that an extraordinary chapter of Australian science, community and exploration does not simply fade away.
More than a telescope
For the people of Coonabarabran, the AAT is woven into the identity of the town and the wider Warrumbungle region. It stands within Australia's first International Dark Sky Park, surrounded by the spectacular Warrumbungle National Park. In 2026, the region was ranked the second-best stargazing destination in the world, highlighting the extraordinary quality of its night skies and the growing global interest in astronomy.
The observatory attracts around 25,000 visitors each year and contributes more than $6 million annually to the local economy. Those numbers are significant for a regional community, but the AAT's value goes well beyond tourism and dollars.
For generations of Australians, it has represented curiosity and discovery — the remarkable idea that a telescope on a remote mountain could allow us to explore objects billions of light-years away and look deep into the history of the universe.
The funding cliff
That legacy now faces a difficult crossroads. Under the Australian Astronomy Decadal Plan 2026–2035, funding for the AAT is secured only until mid-2027, with no long-term commitment currently in place beyond that point.
The campaign accepts that the AAT has reached the natural end of its role as Australia's primary national optical research facility. Science advances, technologies change and newer instruments eventually take the place of those that once stood at the forefront.
But scientific progress does not have to mean simply switching off the lights and walking away.
The fear is that an unmanaged wind-down could leave behind not only a remarkable scientific instrument, but an irreplaceable piece of Australia's astronomical heritage and a regional economy that has grown alongside it.
A new chapter
The challenge now is to imagine what comes next. The AAT could potentially find new life through education, public astronomy, heritage, tourism, outreach or other forms of research. Its extraordinary history could also become part of an enduring destination where visitors experience the night sky and discover the story of Australian astronomy.
That is what Last Light at Siding Spring is ultimately asking Australia to consider. The final chapter should not be dictated by a funding deadline. After more than 50 years gathering faint light from distant stars and galaxies, the AAT deserves the opportunity to illuminate a new chapter of its own. When the last observing run eventually comes, the lights should not simply go out. They should mark the beginning of something new. SIGN THE PETITION
There are nights when the Moon seems to put on a show just for us. It can glow through a veil of clouds, wear a mysterious ring, appear impossibly huge above the horizon or shrink to a delicate silver crescent. Yet none of these tricks are quite what they seem. Our nearest neighbour in space is playing with light, gravity, movement—and even our minds. Take the strange ring that sometimes surrounds the Moon. On a clear night, you may look up and see a vast, ghostly circle stretching across the sky. It can look almost too perfect to be real. But the Moon isn't creating the ring. Earth's atmosphere is.
High above us, thin cirrus clouds can contain countless tiny ice crystals. When moonlight passes through them, the crystals bend and redirect the light, producing a luminous circle known as a lunar halo. For centuries, people have treated these rings as signs that rain is coming. There is actually some truth in the old weather wisdom. The high clouds that create halos can form ahead of approaching weather systems, sometimes providing an early warning that conditions are about to change.
But the Moon has an even bigger secret. Why do we always see the same side?
It isn't because the Moon doesn't rotate. It does. The remarkable thing is that it spins exactly once on its axis during the same time it takes to complete one orbit around Earth. This is called tidal locking. Earth's gravity has been tugging on the Moon for billions of years, gradually slowing its rotation until the two movements became synchronised. The result is a spectacular cosmic dance: as the Moon travels around Earth, it turns at exactly the right rate to keep the same hemisphere facing us.
And here's another surprise: there is no permanent "dark side" of the Moon. The far side gets sunlight too. It is simply the side we don't normally see from Earth. Then there are the Moon's famous phases. One night it is a thin crescent, another it is half illuminated, and eventually it becomes a brilliant full Moon. But the Moon itself isn't changing shape. We are simply seeing different amounts of its sunlit half.
As the Moon orbits Earth, our viewing angle changes. Sometimes most of the illuminated side is facing away from us, producing a new Moon. At other times we see almost all of it, creating a full Moon. Between these extremes come the crescents, quarters and gibbous phases. The complete cycle takes about 29.5 days. That's slightly longer than the Moon's actual orbit around Earth because Earth itself is moving around the Sun, constantly changing the geometry of the three bodies.
And then comes perhaps the greatest lunar illusion of all. Watch the Moon rise and it can look enormous. Sometimes it appears so huge and golden that you might think it has somehow moved dramatically closer to Earth. It hasn't. Measure it, and its apparent size is essentially the same as when it is high overhead. Your brain is responsible.
The Moon illusion happens because, near the horizon, our brains compare the Moon with familiar objects such as trees, buildings and hills. Against an otherwise empty sky, the same Moon can appear much smaller.
So the next time you see a giant Moon rising, a halo glowing around it or a crescent hanging above the rooftops, take another look. You're witnessing an extraordinary mixture of sunlight, ice crystals, gravity, orbital motion and human perception. Our Moon may be only a quarter of a million miles away, but it still has the power to fool our eyes, stir our imagination and remind us that the night sky is far stranger—and far more fascinating—than it first appears.
Space has always been fertile ground for myths, perhaps because the night sky is so enormous, mysterious and difficult to visit that humans have filled the gaps in our knowledge with stories, guesses and the occasional piece of complete nonsense. Some are harmless fun, while others are so persistent that they deserve a gentle blast of scientific reality.
Take the wonderfully ridiculous idea that the Moon is made of cheese. Sorry, Wallace and Gromit, but the evidence is firmly against you because the Moon is a rocky world covered in dust, mountains, valleys and countless impact craters. Its surface has been battered by asteroids and meteoroids for billions of years, while ancient volcanic activity produced the enormous dark plains we call maria.
The Moon isn't particularly shiny either, reflecting only about 12 per cent of the sunlight that falls upon it, making it about as reflective as worn asphalt. That beautiful glowing Moon therefore isn't a gigantic piece of Camembert beaming back at us; its minerals are simply reflecting sunlight.
Then there are shooting stars, another case of misleading terminology because there is no star falling out of the heavens, desperately trying to find somewhere to land. A shooting star is usually a tiny piece of space debris, often no larger than a grain of sand, entering Earth's atmosphere at enormous speed, where friction and compression heat the surrounding gas and create the spectacular streak of light we see.
The object itself is called a meteoroid while it is in space and a meteor when it produces that brilliant streak, while any surviving piece that reaches the ground becomes a meteorite. So, when you see a shooting star, make a wish, but don't ask it to slow down because some meteors can enter the atmosphere at more than 70 kilometres per second, making that one very fast wish-delivery service.
Now for one of the most famous myths of all: the Great Wall of China can be seen from space. It sounds plausible and has been repeated for decades, but it isn't true in the way people imagine. Astronauts in low Earth orbit can sometimes photograph portions of the wall under favourable conditions, but it is extremely difficult to distinguish with the naked eye because the wall is simply too narrow and blends into the surrounding landscape.
From the Moon, forget it because the wall is far too narrow, and its winding shape doesn't magically turn it into a giant planetary sign saying "Welcome to China." I remember astronaut Buzz Aldrin telling me that they couldn't see it from the Moon, and at roughly 384,400 kilometres away, even an enormous telescope would have trouble picking out such a relatively thin structure against the Earth's complicated landscape.
And finally, we arrive at the flat-Earth myth, at which point perhaps it really is time for a Panadol. Earth is demonstrably spherical, and we have mountains of evidence — literally and scientifically — including ships disappearing hull-first over the horizon,
There is also the small matter of time zones because when it is lunchtime in Australia, people elsewhere can be asleep in darkness, and on a flat Earth illuminated by the Sun in the ordinary way, explaining that would require some remarkably creative geometry.
The universe is full of genuine mysteries, but we don't need invented ones because the real story is far more fascinating: a rocky Moon, fiery meteors, a magnificent but difficult-to-see wall, and a spherical Earth hurtling through space.
Space travel has some glamorous moments. Floating above Earth, watching sunrises every 90 minutes and seeing the planet from hundreds of kilometres above it. And then there is the toilet.
Scientists have now learned more about why astronauts frequently suffer from constipation in space. A study of astronauts who lived aboard the International Space Station found that microgravity slows the movement of food through the intestines.
That might sound like a slightly embarrassing space problem. It isn't. The researchers discovered that changes in the gut can cause bacteria to process proteins differently. This produces chemicals that could become harmful during very long missions.
That matters because astronauts may eventually spend months or even years travelling to the Moon or Mars. A problem that is merely uncomfortable during a short space mission could become much more serious during a three-year journey to Mars.
Researchers are looking at possible solutions, including more fibre, probiotics and ways of encouraging normal intestinal movement. So the future of space travel may depend on some very sophisticated technology. But astronauts will still need to eat their vegetables. Even on Mars.
For decades, astronomers have wondered whether the enormous red star Betelgeuse had a companion. Now they have strong evidence that it does. Betelgeuse is one of the most famous stars in the night sky. It forms the reddish shoulder of Orion and is so enormous that, if placed where our Sun is, it would swallow the inner planets.
Astronomers have now directly observed a much smaller companion star orbiting it. The companion is estimated to have between about 2.6 and 3.1 times the mass of our Sun. The two stars are separated by a distance roughly comparable to Saturn's orbit around the Sun. That is still remarkably close considering the enormous size of Betelgeuse.
The discovery is more than a cosmic curiosity. Betelgeuse is a dying massive star. Astronomers have long expected it eventually to explode as a supernova. But having a companion changes the story.
The second star may influence how Betelgeuse loses material and how its final explosion develops. So the next time someone says Betelgeuse is about to explode, there is an important qualification. It could still be a very long wait. Astronomically speaking, of course.
Forget the morning traffic jam. Forget finding a parking space. One billionaire space executive thinks the future could involve commuting to the Moon.
Dylan Taylor, founder and CEO of Voyager Technologies, says humans will be living and working in space and believes a permanent lunar base could arrive in the early 2030s. Taylor is not alone. Elon Musk, Jeff Bezos and Sam Altman have all talked about a future in which humans increasingly live and work away from Earth.
The International Space Station has already shown that humans can live continuously in space for years at a time. The next step is much harder. The Moon has no breathable atmosphere, extreme temperatures and dangerous radiation. Every litre of water and every kilogram of equipment becomes valuable. But the Moon has one enormous advantage. It is close. Compared with Mars, the Moon is practically next door.
Possible lunar jobs could include construction, mining, scientific research, power generation and operating equipment. It sounds like science fiction. But only a few decades ago, so did having thousands of satellites providing internet from space. Perhaps one day "Where do you work?" will have a rather interesting answer.
Apollo11 – In Retrospect. A Personal Journey
In 2008 I was News editor for Australia's Sky & Space Magazine visiting all the historic people and places in Space history in the USA. I had a personal invitation for this visit to meet up with history - and it still gives me a 'buzz'...pardon the pun. THIS is a revision of that day and a retrospective version of how things were, and could have been.
The door opened without ceremony. No spotlight. No drumroll. Just a firm handshake from a man who had walked on the Moon — and inside, a living room that quietly held the weight of history.
Visiting Buzz Aldrin at his home was not what you'd expect from someone who helped change the course of the 20th century. There were no grand trophies dominating the space. Instead, framed mission patches, a carefully displayed model of the Lunar Module Eagle, and photographs that have since become icons of human achievement. The setting was modest. The story was not.
Buzz, Lunar Module Pilot of Apollo 11, was the second human being to set foot on the Moon on July 20, 1969 after the reclusive neil Armstrong. But what fascinated me most weren't the famous headlines. It was the fine detail — the seconds, decisions and sensations that rarely make it into documentaries.
He described those final moments of descent. The Lunar Module was low on fuel — roughly 30 seconds remaining — when Neil Armstrong took manual control to avoid a boulder-strewn crater. The onboard computer flashed 1201 and 1202 alarms, signalling executive overload. In Houston, guidance officer Steve Bales made the split-second decision to continue. Abort would have meant a very different chapter in history.
Then came the dust. As Eagle descended, the engine plume kicked up lunar regolith, creating a blinding haze. There were no trees, no buildings, no atmosphere to soften perspective. Just harsh light and shadow. Armstrong relied on instinct honed from years as a test pilot. When the contact light illuminated and the engine shut down, Aldrin calmly confirmed, "Okay. Engine stop." That composure under pressure defined the mission.
But there's another presence in this story — quieter, reflective, almost reluctant to be mythologised. Neil Armstrong, by nature reserved and semi-reclusive in later life, reinforces something that rarely makes it into public speeches: sheer amazement. He speaks softly about the lunar surface. Not theatrically. Not dramatically. Simply, honestly.
The horizon felt closer than expected, he said, because the Moon is smaller. The sky was completely black — even with the Sun glaring down. The surface wasn't smooth and poetic as imagined in paintings; it was textured, sharp, ancient. The regolith behaved almost like powdery snow mixed with ash. And yet, despite the training, the simulations, the rehearsals — nothing quite prepared him for the reality of stepping onto another world.
When pressed He admits something profound: being chosen as the first was an honour that weighed heavily. The decision had been NASA's, based on crew roles and procedures, but the historical symbolism was undeniable. Armstrong understood that the first step would echo beyond engineering or politics. It would belong to humanity. There's no bravado in his recollection. Only a kind of quiet wonder.
Buzz detailed the physical strain. The suits were pressurised to about 3.7 psi, making every movement deliberate. Heart rates exceeded 150 beats per minute during the moonwalk. This was not a stroll in low gravity; it was demanding work. Before exploration began, Armstrong collected the contingency sample — a small bag of lunar soil gathered immediately in case they had to abort. Insurance for history.
They deployed experiments that still function today. The Laser Ranging Retroreflector remains in place, allowing scientists to measure the Moon's recession from Earth — about 3.8 centimetres per year. The Passive Seismic Experiment detected moonquakes, proving the Moon was not entirely geologically dead.
Inside the cabin, once helmets were removed, the dust carried a faint smell — like spent gunpowder. It clung stubbornly to suits and equipment. We spoke of Michael Collins, orbiting alone in Columbia. As I sat there Buzz took a quick call from him. Without his flawless command module operations, there was no return. Collins described himself as "not lonely," but responsible. It was a trio, not a duo, that completed the mission.
After splashdown on July 24, 1969, the crew entered 21 days of quarantine in a Mobile Quarantine Facility — a converted Airstream trailer. NASA could not rule out lunar microbes. Caution ruled over celebration.
The Saturn V that launched them stood 110 metres tall and generated 7.5 million pounds of thrust at liftoff. Controlled violence. Precision engineering. More than 400,000 people worked across the United States to make it happen. President Kennedy's 1961 challenge — to land a man on the Moon and return him safely to Earth before the decade was out — had been met.
But sitting there listening, what stayed with me most was not rivalry, nor Cold War urgency, nor even technological triumph. It was awe! Buzz's measured confidence shows, Neil's quiet astonishment is legendary. Two different temperaments united by a moment when human beings crossed a threshold no species had crossed before. The footprints remain there still, undisturbed in silent dust. And in that quiet living room, the Moon did not feel distant at all.
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'ASTRO DAVE' RENEKE - A Personal Perspective
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. 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.
