To save content items to your account,
please confirm that you agree to abide by our usage policies.
If this is the first time you use this feature, you will be asked to authorise Cambridge Core to connect with your account.
Find out more about saving content to .
To save content items to your Kindle, first ensure no-reply@cambridge.org
is added to your Approved Personal Document E-mail List under your Personal Document Settings
on the Manage Your Content and Devices page of your Amazon account. Then enter the ‘name’ part
of your Kindle email address below.
Find out more about saving to your Kindle.
Note you can select to save to either the @free.kindle.com or @kindle.com variations.
‘@free.kindle.com’ emails are free but can only be saved to your device when it is connected to wi-fi.
‘@kindle.com’ emails can be delivered even when you are not connected to wi-fi, but note that service fees apply.
Each of the missions or spacecraft in this part has been selected for description in greater detail because they have faced and overcome an unusual challenge in their design and/or mission. Collectively, the seven case studies cover: atmospheric probes and surface/sub-surface missions; worlds with and without atmospheres; low and high gravity environments, and both static and mobile elements.
This part of the book provides a basic description, key data and a drawing for all planetary atmospheric or surface vehicles launched, or attempted, from the earliest examples to 2007. Key references concerning the design, payload and results of each craft or mission are given in each case so that the reader may find more detailed information elsewhere. For the payload experiments, the names in parentheses indicate the Principal Investigators (PIs) or otherwise-titled responsible experimenters. Details of the particular experiments and the results obtained (if any) can in most cases be found by searching publications authored (or co-authored) by those named.
The many vehicles are divided into six categories, reflecting the way in which they encounter an atmosphere or surface.
Destructive impact probes (where the mission is intended to end with the vehicle being destroyed on impact with the surface). These probes are discussed only very briefly, since they are not landers yet do play a role in planetary surface exploration.
Atmospheric entry probes (where the vehicle's design is driven by its mission in the atmosphere).
Pod landers (where the vehicle is designed to land initially in any orientation).
Legged landers (where the vehicle is provided with landing gear).
Payload delivery penetrators (where the vehicle decelerates in the sub-surface to emplace a payload).
Small-body surface missions (where the vehicle operates in a low surface gravity environment). These can include many operations that are possible in low gravity, and various types of surface element.
The diagrams in this part of the book were drawn using information gleaned from a variety of sources.
These landers use a system of legs to cushion the landing and provide a stable platform for surface operations. With the exception of the Venera landers and the forthcoming Mars Science Laboratory (MSL) rover, all legged landers have three or four legs with footpads, and retro-thrusters perform final braking before landing. This was not required for the Veneras, whose terminal velocity at the surface was low enough (~8 m s− 1) such that the landing gear alone was able to provide sufficient damping. The landing gear was toroidal and we thus consider it as effectively a single ‘leg’. Mars Science Laboratory is due to make use of the rover's wheels as landing gear. A key feature of legged landers is that they must be the right way up for landing – beyond some tolerable limit such landers would topple over and fail. This attitude control must be performed during descent, usually by thrusters. Only for sufficiently thick atmospheres, such as that of Venus, can aerodynamic stabilisation be used.
Beyond those described here, future possible legged landers include robotic and crewed lunar landers from the US, robotic lunar landers from China and Japan, and a Mars sample-return mission.
Surveyor landers
The Surveyor landers performed soft landings on the Moon, largely as reconnaissance of the surface for the later Apollo landings. For more details see the Case Study, Chapter 21 (Figure 18.1).
A sobering thought experiment is to contemplate a world without electricity. Not only is electricity exploited as a convenient means of delivering mechanical or thermal energy to remote locations, but electricity is vital in information transmission and in sensing and control. Although the first planetary missions contemplated involved launching to the Moon a vehicle containing flash powder with which it would optically announce its arrival, and some early spacecraft used clockwork timers to sequence operations, every mission actually flown has been electrically powered.
In this chapter we first consider the overall requirements on the probe's power system, and how these requirements favour the various means adopted to meet them. The power supply and storage possibilities are then discussed, with particular reference to planetary probes. A general reference for power considerations is the book by Angrist (1982).
It is instructive to consider the electrical power requirements of various household devices to place spacecraft requirements in context. A modern PC may consume perhaps 200 W; a laptop perhaps an order of magnitude less. The Viking lander ran on 90 W. The Huygens probe's batteries supplied around 300 W for about 5 hours. The Sojourner rover had a solar array that delivered a mere 15 W.
System requirements
The total energy requirement of a mission (i.e. its integrated power requirement) is the most fundamental parameter for designing the power system.
Some years ago professional colleagues suggested that a new edition of An Introduction to Astronomical Photometry could be useful and timely. The decision to act upon this did not come, however, until the warm and conducive summer of 2003, in the stimulative environment of north-west Anatolia, once home to great forefathers of astronomy, such as Anaxagoras and Hipparchos. The former set up his school at the surely appropriately named Lampsakos, just a few miles from where the present authors are working: the latter hailed originally from what is now the Iznik district of neighbouring Bythinia. Eudoxus too, after learning his observational astronomy in Heliopolis, moved back to Mysia to found the institute at Cyzicus (today's Kapu Dagh), while Aristotle's thoughts on the heavens must have also been developing around the time of his sojourn in the Troad, after the death of Plato. In such surroundings it is difficult to resist thinking about the brightness of the stars.
But that was just the beginning. It quickly became clear that the proposed task could not be lightly undertaken. There were at least three main questions to clarify: (1) what branches of modern astronomy can be suitably associated with photometry; (2) what level of explanation can be set against the intention of an introduction; and (3) who could become involved with what aspect of the subject? An approximate size and scope were originally based on the model of the first edition.
‘Starspots’ are not a new notion. There was a time when starspots were offered as a general explanation of stellar variability. From that extreme, in the nineteenth century, attention to the hypothesis had dwindled away almost completely after the development of stellar spectroscopy, until, in a well-known pair of papers dealing with the cool binaries AR Lac and YY Gem in the 1950s, the photometrist Gerald Kron revived it. As events have turned out, there is now a good deal of evidence to support Kron's conjecture, for certain groups of cool variable.
The two stars that Kron referred to are good examples of somewhat different but related categories of ‘active cool star’ (see Figures 10.1 and 10.2) – stars of spectral type generally later than mid-F, i.e. associated with convective outer regions, and usually having a relatively rapid rotational speed. In the cases of AR Lac and YY Gem, both close binary systems, this rapid rotation is a consequence of tidally induced synchronism between rotation and orbital revolution. The M type dwarf components of YY Gem are typical flare stars, characterized by Balmer line emissions that on occasions become very strong, reminiscent of solar flares, but with much greater relative intensity. AR Lac also shows ‘chromospheric’ emission lines, but its particular configuration, G5 and subgiant K0 stars in a ∽2 day period binary, places it as a standard RS CVn type binary.
In Chapter 5 we considered the various oscillation modes that a star can show when perturbed in some way. Many types of star are observed to pulsate. Perhaps the best known are the class known as Cepheids (after the prototype star δ Cephei). These pulsate primarily in a radial mode, so that we observe the full amplitude of their oscillations. The period of these oscillations is directly related to the stellar radius, just as the pitch of an organ note is related to the length of the pipe producing it, the lowest notes coming from the longest pipes. Finding the star's radius in this way gives a measure of its brightness, so that simply by comparing the periods of two Cepheids we know their relative brightnesses. Thus, with careful calibration, measuring the period and the apparent brightness of a Cepheid gives its distance. As Cepheids are bright stars they can be seen in very distant galaxies and therefore can be used to produce a distance scale of great importance in astronomy.
However, most stars do not show pulsations of readily observable amplitude. This must mean that for most stars any oscillations set in motion by perturbations received during their lives, or in the process of formation, have long since been damped out in some way. The existence of these damping processes in turn implies that if a star does pulsate, an excitation mechanism for these pulsations must be operating.
In this chapter we proceed to more general effects in close binary light curves, with a wider sample of data sets. Although through most of the twentieth century close pairs formed a distinct subset of double star research, engendering its own data, purposes, methods and outcomes, in present times this somewhat artificial separation, mentioned at the beginning of the book, is being bridged. The time is in sight when photometric data can be more easily joined with astrometry for fuller analysis and information retrieval from close binary stars. To proceed with this, we need first to consider the overall geometry.
Coordinate transformation
Ambiguities are possible in bringing data on close binary systems into the conventional framework used for double stars, since, for example, the ‘longitude of periastron’ used for the radial velocities of spectroscopic binaries is normally measured inward from the plane of the sky and not the line of nodes in the equator, as in the standard 3-dimensional specification for astrometric binaries. If, as is usual for close systems, we use the local plane of the sky as the reference, the nodal angle Ω should still refer the line of intersection of orbital and sky planes to the equatorial coordinate system. This angle has no effect on radial velocities or photometric effects, though it remains a basic parameter of a binary system.
The eclipsing binaries and spotted stars discussed in the previous three chapters still represent only about a quarter of all variables. The largest class of variable stars are those having some inherent physical variation in luminosity, as distinct from an effect of geometry. They are often referred to as pulsating, sometimes vibrating, stars: words suggesting the physical cause of the variation. Although, as noted before, all stars would vary over a sufficiently long timescale, an appreciable intrinsic variation of luminosity accessible to human inspection implies a very short period against general stellar time frames, giving perspective to such terminology. There are examples whose light pattern repeats in measurably the same form for many cycles, with a periodicity of comparable constancy to that of eclipsing variables. Others show varying degrees of chaotic behaviour. In ‘irregular’ cases, the light level wanders up and down with no pattern or predictability. But many show quasi-periodic variations of a ‘semiregular’ nature. Some examples of the different light curves are shown in Figure 11.1.
Spectroscopy shows that the variations in apparent magnitude are linked with changes of radius. By studying the Doppler shifts of absorption lines in the regular cepheid type variables (prototype δ Cephei), it was deduced that the star oscillates inward and outward in the same period as the brightness cycle, the star being faintest not far from, but somewhat before, the time when it is smallest.
The times of observed features, usually minima or maxima, on the light curves of variable stars (single or binary), can often be accurately determined. Many classes of variable star have a repetitive, cyclic behaviour regarding such features and time, which is understood in terms of their basic physical properties. Thus, timing data are applied to measuring rotation, pulsation, or orbital periods (P) of the different kinds of variable. It follows from angular momentum considerations that any change in the velocity field and/or mass distribution within or nearby a star, or binary system component, will cause a change in rotational or orbital motion. There will then result shifts of corresponding minima (or maxima) times that have relevance to physical changes of the object in question. The ‘O – C’ method is commonly used in measuring shifts in the observed times of photometric features.
The O – C method
Defining terms: The O – C – ‘observed minus calculated’ datum (regarded as a single item) – indicates any time difference between the epoch of an observed phenomenon, presumed periodic, and its prediction, based on an ephemeris formula. Eclipses are a typical example. In this case, O – C analysis often allows identification of the possible cause of period variation. These may arise from orbital eccentricity effects, mass loss from the system or exchange between the components, magnetic effects, the presence of a third body or other reasons.
The normal unit of time for this context is heliocentric Julian days.
In Chapter 4 we considered the stability of a static fluid configuration against convective instabilities, or buoyancy. We found that for stability the specific entropy must increase upwards. In this chapter we again consider the stability of a static atmosphere, but with the complication of an added magnetic field. We shall find that the magnetic field can act either to stabilize or to de-stabilize the fluid. It is possible to derive a variational principle for perturbations of a fluid containing a magnetic field, just as we did for a non-magnetic fluid in Chapter 4 (see Problem 4.7.4). Of course, the expressions we would derive in doing so contain all the information required to decide stability. But we found in Chapter 4 that we had to manipulate carefully the expressions we derived in the variational principle to extract a useful stability criterion – the Schwarzschild criterion. Adding a magnetic field makes the expressions in the variational principle much more complex, simply because the geometry of the magnetic field and its interaction with the fluid add more degrees of freedom, and there is no simple stability criterion. Accordingly we adopt a simpler, less comprehensive, approach here.
There are some guiding concepts with which a theoretical astrophysicist should be familiar, and we illustrate these here. We discuss the two distinct, but often confused, modes of instability – the buoyancy instability and the Parker instability. As before we keep try to keep the situation simple, in order to bring out the physics of the situation without obscuring it in mathematical detail.
The book which follows has grown out of my experiences in carrying out and teaching optical astronomy. Much of the practical side of this started for me when I was working with Professor M. Kitamura at what is now the National Astronomical Observatory of Japan, Mitaka, Tokyo, in the mid seventies. Having already learned something of the theoretical side of photometric data analysis and interpretation from Professor Z. Kopal in the Astronomy Department of the University of Manchester, when I later returned to that department and was asked to help with its teaching programme I started the notes which have ultimately formed at least part of the present text. I then had the pleasure of continuing with observing at the Kottamia Observatory, beneath the beautiful desert skies of Egypt, in the days of Professor A. Asaad, together with a number of good students, many of whom have since gone on to help found or join university departments of their own in different lands of the world.
In recent years – particularly since moving to Carter Observatory – another dimension has been added to my experience through my encounters with that special feature of the astronomical world: the active amateur! In previous centuries many creative scientists were, in some sense, amateurs, but in the twentieth century the tide, for fundamental research at least, has been very much in the direction of government, or other large organization, supported professionals, no doubt with very persuasive reasons.
In the next few chapters we consider what happens if we perturb a stationary fluid configuration. The unperturbed configuration we have in mind is a body of fluid at rest in a stationary gravitational potential well. This potential might result from the self-gravity of the fluid itself, as for a star, or it might be produced by some external agency. An example of the latter case is the potential well produced by the dark matter component of a cluster of galaxies. The intracluster medium sits in this potential, without significantly contributing to it.
Studying perturbations in this way is important for a number of reasons. We can often use a linear analysis, and thus make things mathematically tractable. Working out when perturbations grow or not often provides us with a good idea of how a system will react, even to finite (non-infinitesimal) perturbations. In particular, we may be able to decide if the system is likely to react with drastic changes (instability), or settle down again to a state rather like its original one (stability). A system's reaction to perturbations also tells us a lot about its structure. Just as geophysicists learn about the Earth's interior by studying how it reacts to perturbations such as earthquakes, astronomers can use a similar technique (asteroseismology) to study the interior of stars.
Models of stars
To be specific we shall mainly consider perturbations to models of stars, although the results we find are generally applicable.
This book is aimed at laying groundwork for the purposes and methods of astronomical photometry. This is a large subject with a large range of connections. In the historical aspect, for example, we retain contact with the earliest known systematic cataloguer of the sky, at least in Western sources, i.e. Hipparchos of Nicea (∽160–127 BCE): the ‘father of astronomy’, for his magnitude arrangements are still in use, though admittedly in a much refined form. A special interest attaches to this very long time baseline, and a worthy challenge exists in getting a clearer view of early records and procedures.
Photometry has points of contact with, or merges into, other fields of observational astronomy, though different words are used to demarcate particular specialities. Radio-, infrared-, X-ray-astronomy, and so on, often concern measurement and comparison procedures that parallel the historically well-known optical domain. Spectrophotometry, as another instance, extends and particularizes information about the detailed distribution of radiated energy with wavelength, involving studies and techniques for a higher spectral resolution than would apply to photometry in general. Astrometry and stellar photometry form limiting cases of the photometry of extended objects. Since stars are, for the most part, below instrumental resolution, a sharp separation is made between positional and radiative flux data. But this distinction seems artificial on close examination.