For instance, on the morning of January 23, 2011, Izar boiled madly when I looked at it through my 5-inch scope. In the turbulent air, the star’s disk swelled and contracted so violently that I had difficulty keeping the star in focus. Yet, during fleeting moments of atmospheric stability, Izar’s yellow disk suddenly appeared to have a slight discolored bump that popped in and out of view with the seeing at 229x. Al-though I did not split Izar, I could at least suspect a companion.
As dawn approached and the seeing steadied, Izar’s companion revealed itself stunningly at powers of 165x and 330x. Once I knew where to look, I could also separate the two stars at powers as low as 94x. I could not convince myself of the star’s duplicity at 60x, however.
Worlds apartMore than 2 centuries ago, Herschel penned that Izar “has much the appearance of a planet and its satellite, both shining with innate but different light.” Indeed, my first impression of the pair was one of a distant Sun-like star with a wondrous water-world orbiting it. And I’m not alone: The late astronomy popularizers Agnes Clerke and Camille Flammarion described the primary as “chrome yellow” and “bright yellow,” and the secondary as “sea-water blue” and “marine blue,” respectively.
Is it surprising then that, in the early 1970s, Scottish science-fiction writer Duncan Lunan caused an international commotion when he claimed to have translated signals from a spacecraft sent to the Moon in the 1920s by the inhabitants of a planet orbiting Izar? Lunan’s translation of the alien message begins: “Our home is Epsilon Boötis, which is a double star.” Among other media, the story made it to the
CBS Evening News and
Time magazine. Although Lunan has since withdrawn most of this idea, it remains a testament to the power and intrigue of this amazing star.
As always, send your thoughts and reports to
someara@interpac.net.