* * * * * A bavarian eclipse * * * * *

Well, it should happen once; after 5 succesful eclipse expeditions (Kenia 1980, Indonesia 1983,
Mexico 1991, Bolivia 1994 and Venezuela 1998) this time I was clouded out. But let me start 
at the beginning...

Once the (easy) decision had been made to travel to the 1999 eclipse, the next question was where 
to view it. After some deliberation, our group of 4 (Edwin van Dijk, Sylvia Ladage, Albert Schuitema
and myself) had chosen for a short trip to the south of Germany. From our homes this region can be
easily reached by car in a single day, it has good infrastructure, is not a real tourist region, but
still has many interesting places, and weather statistics were fair (for what it is worth in our
unpredictable climate).

And so we arrived in Wertingen, a small town with 7000 inhabitants, some 30 kilometers north of
Augsburg, on the evening of August 8th, where we had booked rooms in hotel 'Zum Hirsch' for 
the rest of the week. To our surprise we soon found out that we were the only eclipse-guests.
To put things right into perspective: the weekend after the eclipse the hotel was fully booked,
because of an international Rottweiler show!

The next day our first goal was to find a good observing site. This was quickly found; a hilltop
just outside the town, with virtually unrestricted views around, was perfect for our purpose.
The rest of the time before eclipseday was spent on a trip to the city of Augsburg, and another 
one to Nördlingen and the surrounding Nördlinger Riess, a large 15 million year old impact
structure, recognized as such by the late Eugene Shoemaker in 1961. Nördlingen itself is a
beautiful old city, still in possesion of a complete city wall and gates, and it has a church in 
the centre, build with stones carved from local rocks, that clearly show the results of the impact.

We visited the Riess museum, which gives an excellent overview of the impact and its (local)
consequences. It had a room with a temporary exibition of brightly coloured butterflies, and
minerals with similar colours; interesting too!

In the meantime we were anxiously following the weather. Since our arrival on Sunday evening the
weather had become very unsettled; in general temperatures had been decreasing, and cloudcover 
(with showers) increasing. Not the sort of weather to boost our enthousiasm. And weather predictions
on German television did not help very much for our planning too. We had selected Wertingen as our
base, because it was close to two major motorways, and offered good opportunities for a quick trip
either east or west along the central line to regions with better weather. However, on the evening
before the eclipse the predictions were still ambigous, to say the least. Some suggested the
Stuttgart-Saarbrücken region would be the place to be, but others favoured Munich and regions
further east. So, with no obvious good spots within 2-3 hours driving distance, we decided not to
sacrifice a good night sleep and to stay put. Driving along the motorway on eclipsday itself after
8am was no option anyway, because of the expected traffic jams, particularly near big cities.

The morning of August 11 started with largely overcast skies. About 45 minutes before first contact
we arrived at our selected hilltop, and started setting up our equipment. In the meantime it became
obvious that we would not be alone. The place proved to be a very popular vantage point with the
locals, and by the time of first contact a considerable crowd had gathered. Corks popped, glasses
were filled and a barbecue was installed; it was obvious, the weather would not temper their spirits...





In the meantime the clouddeck had started to break up somewhat, and shortly after the calculated
time of first contact we could see a tiny dent in the sun. It had all begun!





Over the following hour we could see the eclipse progress through occasional gaps. However, half an
hour before totality the scene changed. Thick clouds assembled in the west and south, and some of
the showers that first were seen to the north and east now came our way. Because of the progressing
eclipse light levels slowly started to drop, and the clouds that initially moved quickly appeared
to slow down.





Things were looking bad, although in the northeast a large clearing appeared, some 15 minutes before
totality. Unfortunately, it hardly moved, and stayed almost stationary for the next hour. The next
row of hills in the east was bathing in sunshine, but it was already too late to move, so we had to
sit and wait. Light levels now started to drop noticibly, and the clouds in the west turned very, 
very dark.





Then it all went very quickly: a black wall rose and fell upon us from the west. I quickly turned
around and saw a large white cumuluscloud at the edge of the clearing in the east turn dark in
seconds.. Totality was there. The scene was apocalyptic: the sky to the west and south was very dark 
because of the heavy cloudcover, and we saw distant lightning, while particularly in the northeast,
where several clear spots could be seen, the horizon had a strange orange colour. 
Even so I don't think this was a very dark eclipse; I could still read the meter settings on the
camera (had problems with that in Venezuela last year!) despite some 80-90% cloudcover.









Then the sky in the west started to brighten, and daylight returned as quickly as it had gone.
The eclipse was over, and we had not had even the briefest of views on the diamond ring or corona.
During totality the spectators around us had watched in silence, and afterwards there were no cheers
and celebrations. Nevertheless, the event was impressive, and with no distraction from the eclipsed
sun itself, we had ample time to look at the surroundings. Suddenly, with the tension gone we felt
the cold. The temperature had dropped considerably, and it had been rather cool to start with..
People started to pack up, and within minutes most of the spectators had gone.  Back at the hotel,
only a few minutes before 4th contact, we had a last brief view of the partially eclipsed sun.
Then it was definitely over: time to start thinking about the next opportunity to stand in the
shadow of the moon. Maybe June 21, 2001 somewhere in southern Africa?

Later that day we found out from the television reports that the view of the corona had been 
stunning, and that the edge of the sun was peppered with prominences (curses!), but also that the 
weather over most of Europe had been relatively poor, and that seeing the eclipse in Western Europe
was a matter of sheer luck.

The day after the eclipse Edwin and Sylvia headed home, while Albert and I drove to Munich. I had
arranged to meet there with Dr. Joe Marcus, former editor of Comet News Service, a publication that 
stopped in 1987, but is still missed by many. Re the eclipse Joe had even less luck. He had been 
near the Atter See in Austria, but decided (because of its poor weather statistics) to drive with 
his family closer to the central line. There he ended up chasing gaps in the clouds, to see, when
time ran out, the sun disappear behind incoming cloud, right at the diamond ring stage. But worse, 
back at the hotel, with 400km on the counter, he heard that the eclipse had been nicely seen there...





Apart from our eclipse experiences we also talked about comets, what else? Although Joe is a modest
man who does not write his work in bold type, he is an expert regarding the properties of the human
eye, and observing at low light levels so typically for comets, and many other aspects of cometary
science as well. So we had many subjects to talk about. Together we drove to ESO-headquarters at 
Garching, where later that afternoon we had a meeting with Dr. Richard West.  Needless to say the
topics were again the eclipse, and comets.

We drove home the next day with mixed feelings. After all we had missed the eclipse. But better have
that happen close to home than at the other side of the globe! And next time? We'll see the corona,
whatever it takes, that has already been decided upon..

Reinder J. Bouma (August,1999)