Riding a Comet's Tail
N.M. astronomer strives to turn Hale-Bopp discovery into a way to make a living

9/25/96

John Fleck
Journal Staff Writer

SIXTEEN SPRINGS CANYON -- You could call astronomer Alan Hale a practical romantic.
Standing on the deck of his New Mexico mountain home, he points toward comets spread out in the blackness, so faint you can't see them without a telescope.
He rattles off their names with a quick intimacy, but lingers over one -- Comet Hale-Bopp, the one that bears his name.
Discovered by Hale and another star-gazer one summer evening about a year ago, Hale-Bopp promises to be one of the brightest comets of this century.
And Hale, an astronomer who couldn't find work in his field, is trying to make the most of it.
With a new book, speaking engagements, an Internet project and a possible telescope endorsement deal in the works, Hale hopes to capitalize on the short burst of fame his comet offers to carve out a future in which he can keep looking at the sky.
Is it a living?
"No, not yet," says Hale.
But he's working hard to use his discovery to build for the future, to win the financial backing he needs to spend his time doing astronomical research.
Shaped by science
Hale, like many of his generation, was shaped by the Apollo astronauts' walks on the moon.
Today, at 38, his love of astronomy and science is undimmed, but he realizes that the unlimited vistas promised by Neil Armstrong's footprints on the moon are gone.
"I was going through elementary schools during the Apollo era, and there was this big push for science," he says. "I had every reason to believe that was my future, because that's the way it was sold.
"And, then, I get up to an age when we're finally able to do something and there's nothing here."
There are still jobs for astronomers, but they are few. It isn't unusual for a college to receive hundreds of applications for an open faculty position, jobs with a typical starting salary for a Ph.D. astronomer of about $30,000.
"It is rough out there," says Steve Maran, a NASA astronomer and spokesman for the American Astronomical Society.
And yet astronomy's allure continues to draw students, regardless of their job prospects, Maran say.
That allure is what keeps them going despite the difficulties in the field, says Jack Burns, an astronomer and associate dean for research at New Mexico State University, Hale's alma mater.
"That's why we all do it," Burns says.
Astronomical trajectory
Astronomy's hold on Hale dates to his youth.
As an Alamogordo high school student, he won first place in his science fair division for a study of the rotation of a near-Earth asteroid.
After studying physics at the U.S. Naval Academy and what he describes as a "brief Navy noncareer," Hale, then living in California, went to work as an engineer at NASA's Jet Propulsion Laboratory, the legendary home of such spacecraft as the Mariner missions to Mars and Venus and Voyager's tour of the outer planets.
Hale returned to NMSU in 1986 to earn his doctorate in astronomy, studying planet formation around nearby stars.
When he got out in 1992, he couldn't find a job.
After applying for more than two dozen academic positions, Hale realized he wouldn't get a university post.
To an astronomer, hoping to do research, it was a setback. Astronomers need big telescopes, and the federal research grants that provide telescope time and the funding to support the work generally go to scientists at established institutions.
"It's not impossible, but it's extraordinarily difficult" for an independent researcher to win a grant, said NMSU's Burns.
So beyond not being able to draw a salary, not getting a university job made it difficult for Hale to get the $30,000 to $100,000 a year that typical federal research grants provide to support the work.
One-man institute
But Hale wasn't willing to give up on astronomy.
So he and his family moved from Las Cruces to the mountains outside Cloudcroft, an area known for great astronomy.
Down the road are a NASA telescope and the Apache Point Observatory. A small community of amateur astronomers has been drawn to the area by the clear night skies.
After failing to get a job at an existing research institution, Hale decided to form his own. He incorporated the Southwest Institute for Space Research, a one-man operation that earns its money teaching science to students while Hale hunts for research grants.
And always, he continued looking at the sky.
At any given time, a few comets are visible if you've got a reasonably good telescope and know where to look, and Hale typically tracks them all. Most nights, he drags his telescope out to look at them, sending data on their brightness to scientists at JPL and at the International Astronomical Union.
Clues to the planets
Comets are balls of rock and ice with long orbits that occasionally bring them near the sun, where they brighten so they can be seen from Earth.
Because scientists believe they formed in the early days of our solar system, they might offer valuable clues about the history of the planets.
Hale-Bopp is unusually large, which means it will be unusually bright when it gets near the sun next spring. That explains its "possible comet-of-the-century" billing.
For Hale, studying comets is a labor of love, not money. International astronomers, especially those who study comets, depend on dedicated volunteers like Hale to help discover and track comets.
It was on one such comet-watching evening in July 1995 that Hale made his big find, serendipitously discovering the comet that now bears his name and that of Thomas Bopp, an Arizona amateur astronomer who spotted it the same night.
When Hale and other astronomers began studying the new find closely, they realized it was huge, and had the potential to be one of the brightest comets this century.
Capitalizing on his comet
While Hale-Bopp began brightening as it neared its March 1997 closest approach with Earth, Hale set to work.
He has written a just-released book, "Everybody's Comet: A Layman's Guide to Comet Hale-Bopp."
He got a grant of $22,000 worth of computer equipment from Sun Microsystems, the company that made the scientific computer he uses, to set up a Hale-Bopp Internet site.
He is pursuing a NASA grant to support the Internet work, and is arranging speaking engagements for the next year, as the comet's brightness -- and its public profile -- increases.
But making money now isn't his main goal as he goes on those speaking engagements, he says. He's trying to make contacts with the people who can provide his tiny institute with the grant money to keep it going after Hale-Bopp has faded.
"I am really more interested in having something solid to work with when this is gone," Hale says.
His hope is to acquire additional telescopes so he can do formal research on neighboring stars that might harbor planets in their solar systems.
"The search for other earths is something that I find fascinating."
In the meantime, his wife Eva's career as a nurse helps pay the bills.
Nervous anticipation
As his effort to capitalize on his cometary fame continues, he also hauls his telescope out as often as he can, just for the joy of watching the comet itself.
As it brightens, he can point to each of the little jets of material coming off its fuzzy surface. He knows them intimately.
He watches with nervous anticipation.
"If that thing behaves itself, it's a good reflection on me," he says. "If it fizzles, it's a bad reflection on me."
Regardless, Hale has already arranged one firm date on his Hale-Bopp promotional schedule, a Caribbean cruise in 1998 on which he and Bopp will appear as celebrity guests.
The cruise will coincide with a total eclipse, blocking the sun and allowing the rare sight of a comet in the daytime sky.
Hale-Bopp, fading as it departs the inner solar system, will no longer be visible from the Northern Hemisphere.
Because it won't be back for another 4,000 years, Hale figures it'll be his last view, a chance to bid his comet goodbye.