THE NAUTICAL ALMANAC
Had the earth chanced to be poised in space with its axis exactly at right angles to its plane of revolution, many computations of the astronomer would be greatly simplified. Again, were the planetary course circular instead of elliptical, and were the earth subject to no gravitational influences except that of the sun and moon, matters of astronomical computation would be quite different from what they are. But as the case stands, the axis of the earth is not only tipped at an angle of about twenty-three degrees, but is subject to sundry variations, due to the wobbling of the great top as it whirls.
Then the other planets, notably the massive Jupiter, exert a perverting influence which constantly interferes with the regular progression of the earth in its annual tour about the sun. A moment's reflection makes it clear that the gravitation pull of Jupiter is exerted sometimes in opposition to that of the sun, whereas at other times it is applied in aid of the sun, and yet again at various angles. In short, on no two successive days—for that matter no two successive hours or minutes—is the perturbing influence of Jupiter precisely the same.
What applies to the earth applies also, of course, to the varying action of Jupiter on the moon and to the incessantly varied action of the moon itself upon the earth. All in all, then, the course of our globe is by no means a stable and uniform one; though it should be understood that the perturbations are at most very slight indeed as compared with the major motions that constitute its regular action and lead to the chief phenomena of day and night and the succession of the seasons.
Relatively slight though the perturbations may be, however, they are sufficient to make noteworthy changes in the apparent position of the sun and moon as viewed with modern astronomical instruments; and they can by no means be ignored by the navigator who will determine the position of his ship within safe limits of error. And so it has been the work of the practical astronomers to record thousands on thousands of observations, giving with precise accuracy the location of sun, moon, planets, and various stars at given times; and these observations have furnished the basis for the elaborate calculations of the mathematical astronomers upon which the tables are based that in their final form make up the Nautical Almanac, to which we have already more than once referred.
These calculations take into account the precise nature of the perturbing influences that are exerted on the earth and on the moon on any given day, and hence lead to the accurate prediction as to the exact relative positions of these bodies on that day. Stated otherwise, they show the precise position in the heavens which will be held at any given time by the sun for example, or by the important planets, as viewed from the earth. How elaborate these computations are may be inferred from the statement that the late Professor Simon Newcomb used about fifty thousand separate and distinct observations in preparing his tables of the sun. Once calculated, however, these tables of Professor Newcomb are so comprehensive as to supply data from which the exact position of the sun can be found for any day between the years 1200 B.C. and 2300 A.D., a stretch of some thirty-five centuries.
Such a statement makes it clear how very crude and vague the deductions must have been from the observations of navigators, however accurately made, prior to the time when such tables as those of the Nautical Almanac had been prepared. Fully to appreciate this, it is necessary to understand that the observations supplied in such profusion for the use of the mathematical astronomer are in themselves subject to errors that might seriously vitiate the results of the final computation. They must, therefore, be made with the utmost accuracy, and with instruments specially prepared for the purpose. The chief of these instruments is not the gigantic telescope but the small and relatively simple apparatus known as a transit instrument. This constitutes essentially a small telescope poised on very carefully adjusted trunnions, in such a way that it revolves in a vertical axis, bringing into view any celestial body that is exactly on the meridian, and bodies in this position only. To make observation of the transit—that is to say the passage across the meridian line—of any given body more accurate, the transit instrument has stretched vertically across the center of its field of vision a spider web, or a series of parallel spider webs; in order, in the latter case, that the mean time of several observations may be taken.
So exceedingly difficult is it to manufacture and mount an instrument of requisite nicety of adjustment, that the effort has almost baffled the ingenuity of the mechanic. Sir George Airy, in making a transit instrument for use at the Royal Observatory at Greenwich, required the trunnions on which it was to be mounted to be ground truly cylindrical in form within a variation of one thirty-two-thousandth of an inch as determined by a delicate spirit level. Even when all but absolute decision has been obtained, however, it is quite impossible to maintain it, as the slightest variation of temperature—due perhaps to the application of the hand to one of the pillars on which the trunnions rest—may disturb the precise direction of the spider webs and so militate against absolute accuracy of observation. The instrument must, therefore, be constantly tested and its exact range of errors noted and allowed for.
To devote so much labor to details, merely in the effort to determine the precise moment at which a star or planet crosses the meridian, would seem to be an absurd magnification of trifles. But when we reflect that the prime object of such observations is to supply practical data which will be of service in enabling navigators on all the seas of the globe to bring their ships safely to port, the matter takes on quite another aspect. We have here, obviously, another and a very striking illustration of the close relationship that obtains between the work of the theoretical devotee of science and that of the practical man of affairs.