It's time for another post about my weird hobbies. Hooray !
Last year I want on a redecorating spree to turn my home office space from a soulless IKEA nightmare* to somewhere I would voluntarily choose to be. Naturally this included a lot of astronomical elements, one of which now deserves its own post.
* This is not to be confused with a John Lewis nightmare, which is only possible for very rich and stupid people.
As a present to myself for finishing a paper I bought an astrolabe. Why ? Mainly because when I was searching for suitable furnishings I stumbled on similar items, but these in particular caught my eye. I just think they look lovely :
I was also curious to learn how they worked, how astronomers in days of yore actually did things. Now I'd absolutely love a proper shiny brass version, but those tend to be offensive prices, or of a design style I just don't like, or worst of all... non–functional. Urrgh ! Which is a bit silly in this age of mass manufacturing, but I guess the bottom fell out of the astrolabe market even before Jacob Rees–Mogg was a thing.
Still, one day...
There being not enough hours in the day to get everything done, I figured out only the absolute basics before I got distracted by other projects. But now it's time to return to this medieval marvel and figure out what it's all about.
The version that I have is from Dreipunkt and is definitely nice to look at, wooden materials notwithstanding – though why their deluxe versions are so outrageously expensive is beyond me. Unfortunately the instructions that come with it are limited to a 4–page guide, including the assembly instructions (oh, and and a tiny quickstart card for some reason). So, this required quite a lot of Google searching on my part, because the astrolabe community is apparently an oxymoron. But I won't bore you with the narrative. Instead, let's get right down to business by describing how to actually use the bloody thing.
In Theory
0) Convert calendar to Zodiacal date
All of the astrolabe's celestial calculations use a special measure of the date which corresponds to the Sun's angular position along the ecliptic, the path it traces across the sky. Since this is just a circle it spans 360 degrees, but of course the actual calendar year is either 365 or 366 days long. This means we need to do a conversion between these two dating systems. For this, we start on the back.
Here shifting things a wee bit just so the scales can be seen. |
Pisces is only just above it but clearly the Sun is nothing like "2/3rds" of the way through it ! |
Using the example of 11th March = 21° Pisces as before. |
Now this is solar time, of course, and by May, US Daylight Savings Time will be in effect, so I add one hour. Then there is the time zone issue: I have to compensate for the difference between Houston’s longitude, 95 degrees west, and that of the longitude to which its time zone is pegged, 90 degrees west. For every degree I need to add four minutes: a total of 20. Finally, I have to find the “equation of time chart” that compensates for arcane astronomical eccentricities, and it says that I have to add three more minutes for May 6.
- Convert the calendar to zodiacal date.
- Align the zodiacal date on the rete to the horizon line.
- Align the pointer with the zodiacal date and horizon line on the rete, read off the clock time.
- If necessary, add one hour to account for daylight savings time.
- Subtract the equation of time offset for the current date.
- Correct for longitude. For every degree east of the astrolabe's calibration, subtract four minutes (for every degree west, add four minutes).
Here choosing the rete to intersect the line to the right of the XII marker on the top, since we want the afternoon time. |
- Convert the calendar to zodiacal date.
- Use the alidade to measure altitude of the Sun, if necessary twice to see if it's before or after noon.
- Align the zodiacal date on the rete to the corresponding altitude line.
- Align the pointer with the zodiacal date and altitude line on the rete, read off the clock time.
- If necessary, add one hour to account for daylight savings time.
- Subtract the equation of time offset for the current date.
- Correct for longitude. For every degree east of the astrolabe's calibration, subtract four minutes (for every degree west, add four minutes).
Made with Stable Diffusion. |
We can also reverse this. If we already know the time, which of course we can get from the stars anyway, we can use the astrolabe to find their position instead. We read off their elevation directly from the altitude lines. Again, we have to guestimate if a pointer doesn't lie neatly on a line, but I was able to get typically to within 2 degrees despite this.
The astrolabe encodes two dimensional information about the star's position, meaning we can also get its azimuth. This too is straightforward. We align the pointer with the star marker, then from this we read off using the scale just interior to the time on the outermost edge. The only slight complication is that the modern convention is to give the angle in degrees to the east from the line due north, whereas the astrolabe's values are in degrees to the west from the line pointing south. This conversion is trivial :
- If the astrolabe's value is > 180°, subtract 180 to get the modern convention.
- If the astrolabe's value is < 180°, add 180 to get the modern convention.
The azimuth scale has ticks every degree, though I was able to get agreement to typically within 5 degrees of the actual value. Which in terms of finding the stars by eye is way more than sufficient.
5) What else ?
This is looking pretty impressive now. We can calculate sunrise and sunset times, find the altitude and azimuth of the Sun at any time, or use the current elevation of the Sun to tell the time. We can locate the stars to within a few degrees and use them to tell the time to within a couple of minutes, all with just a bit of wood (and a correction table). I find this really ingenious, and I can't imagine the sort of mentality needed to come up with the idea for such a device in the first place.
There are a few other fairly obvious things we can do with this. Simply rotating the rete and watching the positions of the stars tells us which ones remain low on the horizon (and thus are potentially difficult to find) and which traverse higher altitudes. Similarly, we could calculate the time when any star would be at its highest altitude. We can also see at a glance which ones are below the horizon line.
But there are many other markings I don't know the meaning of. One guide I found suggests that the lines below the horizon line mark twilight (their are different conventions for how this is defined, hence multiple lines), so one could calculate the hours of true darkness. Some of the other circles might mark the Tropics of Cancer and Capricorn, which I think are used for calculating the exact dates of the solstices and equinoxes. The dashed lines and Roman numerals on the front are apparently something to do with mapping unequal hours when not on the equinox, and apparently the nested circles on the back serve the same function. Though exactly what one does with these, I really don't know.
The back also has a shadow square, a surveying instrument used for measuring the size of distant objects. I suppose if you're going to have a device for measuring altitude anyway, and you've got the space for this, why not ? But what the arc below this is, with its February-October scale, again I don't know. Nor do I understand the 0-60 scale on the alidade itself, or the irregular -20 -> +50 scale on the pointer. ChatGPT* suggests the former are for using the shadow square as an alternative way of estimating altitude, while the latter are degrees above and below the celestial equator and could be used as another way of aligning the rete. But its answer isn't clear enough to properly explain how to use them. Another document** suggests it might be a way to calculate the equation of time correction without needing to look this up elsewhere, or maybe involved in calculating the right ascension and declination of the stars. It's even possible to use the thing to estimate planetary orbits.
* This is something which thinks that Poland is a landlocked country and has strenuous moral objections to satirising The Lord of the Rings, so we shouldn't take it seriously... but on the other hand, a standard Google search is no help at all.
** This one is the most thorough guide I've found. I suspect from this that the markings on the pointer are to do with ecliptic longitude and used for finding the azimuth of the Sun; it can also be used for finding the declination of a star.
Field Tests
I'm not exactly sure what's going on here, but it pretty much sums up the perils of real world conditions.
Right, so the astrolabe is pretty bloody awesome. Under ideal conditions, given the accuracy of the device and the difficulties in taking a reading, we can use it to get the time to within a couple of minutes and the position of a star to within a couple of degrees. But how does this play out when conditions are not ideal, in the messy conditions of the real world ? In, say, an actual field ?
Badly. Very, very badly.
I am under no illusions about my quite shocking lack of any practical skills whatsoever. Even when experimenting in comfort, I could see exactly what would go wrong in practise and was quickly proven right. So at least I can't be accused of a lack of self-awareness in that respect.
The astrolabe is a veritable Swiss Army knife of medieval astronomical instrumentation. What makes it especially powerful is that it needs only a single direct connection between the astrolabe and reality, one primitive "sensor" if you will : the alidade. Once you've got your altitude measurement with this, everything else follows with deterministic precision, with no other free parameters to adjust. The problem is that while the device is undeniably very sophisticated, actually using it – even given its total simplicity – is bloody f*"#ing difficult.
The first problem is that it's very light. This makes it highly susceptible to even a light breeze, so trying to sight something through the holes is extremely difficult for this reason alone. And this is made much, much worse because of the friction of the alidade with the rest of the device. Every adjustment made necessarily moves the whole astrolabe, starting it swinging and thus making each adjustment nearly useless.
I started by trying to line it up with the Sun. Carefully guestimating an initial pointing, holding it up to quickly check by eye if the Sun was visible though the hole... didn't work. The Sun is just too damn bright. It's impossible to look through the hole towards the Sun (even quickly) because the rest of the solar disc is just feckin' blinding. And trying to look at the shadow, to see if the hole is especially bright when it's lined up correctly, just doesn't work either.
What about stars ? In principle, the holes on the alidade are such that measuring an angle to the 1° precision of the measurement scale shouldn't be a problem. Now, holding the astrolabe horizontally, I found I was indeed able to see a star quite clearly though both of the holes. This takes some care because in the dark it's surprisingly easy to not see the second hole at all, to see a star though just the one hole and think it's all fine. But it can be done.
... not while holding it vertically though. Even without any sort of breeze, it's nigh-on impossible to keep the azimuth of the astrolabe fixed; trying to hang it vertically on your finger high enough above your head to find a star is just so much nope. It really just doesn't work. Never mind two minutes precision, I couldn't take a reading at all. It sways, it's so dark it's hard to see the hole, you have to hold it at a very awkward angle... it's just bonkers to think that people really used to do this.
In principle I think a mounting system would be able to overcome these difficulties. You'd need something to keep it vertical, with the capability to adjust the height and smoothly rotate the azimuth. In that case I firmly believe you could take a reading and apply the corrections so quickly that your estimated time would still be accurate; once you've got the reading, the adjustments to the astrolabe are 30 seconds work. But those drawings of people holding them ? Naah. Not unless you're an actual magical ninja wizard.
It's just not going to happen people. |
Conclusions
Even if it has all the practical advantages of the proverbial chocolate teapot, the astrolabe is still a ridonculously impressive piece of kit. Its versatility is crazy, matched only by its sheer maddening uselessness as a practical instrument.
My guide calls it a medieval computer, but this is not right. It doesn't do any computations in the modern sense; it can't take arbitrary input values, much less perform arbitrary operations on them. At most you could liken it to a specific computer program rather than a computer itself. When you need to do certain specific operations it's incredibly useful, and far, far simpler than doing the calculations by hand – and better by far than a gigantic lookup table. One can certainly see the glimmers of computational logic here, even though the device itself is a long way from a computer in the modern sense.
It's likely an exaggeration to say the astrolabe had over a thousand uses, unless you count every minor variation of every single task for every single star. But it's probably not crazy to say it had dozens. I certainly haven't figured them all out. I'd certainly like to continue investigating at some point, but only if I can figure out how to take attitude readings in a way that isn't likely to have me hurling it across the room (or field) in frustration.