Z-28

A Thank-You to Carl Zambuto & Chuck Smith

“Now the applicable fact is, large aperture visual astronomy is waning and is being replaced by technology.” –Carl Zambuto’s retirement announcement

Z names are good.

350Z.

Z-28. I had a ‘96, and it was fast. Or didn’t go at all, but that’s a Chevy for you. I love hot rod car part stickers like Comp Cams or Holley Carbs. The one that makes the vehicle go light speed is ZOC. Zambuto Optical Company. Somebody should put a badge out, with a nod to the super ‘vettes: ZO6. I’d put one on the scope.

Carl Zambuto is a man who makes the best mirrors in the world. He’s retiring, along with his colleague of 26 years, Chuck Smith. It’s easy to forget that there’s men behind a brand, someone to appreciate for a lifetime of fine sights and clear nights. I never thought of thanking them–until now.

This is for you, Mr. Z. This is for you, Mr. S.

Way Back When

Jim had one of those Portaball telescopes.

“Oh man, I just read about that in the latest Sky and Telescope.” (This was a long time ago.)

New to the club, I was a teenager on a teenage budget, and of course, liked the deep sky stuff. I learned how to star hop and try to see things on the limit of “averted imagination” with a little 80mm refractor. Then Jim showed up, an avuncular stargazer who carried on his park ranger ethos of sharing and discovery on duty and off. He knew how to find stuff with the Portaball, a fancy scope with a 12.5” Zambuto mirror to power it across the light years.

Wow. It sat there in the twilight, a Ferrari in the parking lot.

First Lights

“Come take a look at this.” Jim’s voice floated out of the darkness, that quiet note of excitement: a fisherman when something lands.

I looked up from the little refractor, and went.

There it was, misty on blue velvet, almost alive: the Whirlpool galaxy.

A few moments later: the Sombrero.

That June night teemed with galaxies, and still sticks in my mind. The skies were clear, the astronomy club had their observing night, I didn’t have a driver’s license yet at 14, and Dad didn’t have to work the next day.

The best part about the telescope was that it wasn’t there. I looked through a window into deep space, and didn’t notice any glass, only the soft feel of the eyepiece ring on my eye.

Just me and the Whirlpool, man.

Zambuto, man.

The Portaball & Luna

Time Passes

The Portaball rocked and rolled through the years, and the Zambuto primary made true believers out of SCT users and “good enough” mass market mirror guys. The accuracy of the figure, the smoothness of the polish, outlined in black and white with “squiggly graphs.” It’s easy to get bogged down in specs.

But it’s hard to locate your socks after seeing Saturn with that mirror, or to trace the smoldering tendrils of the Veil nebula across Cygnus. You’re not “using the stars to look at your telescope”, as Gary Hand might say. The optics are so good, they vanish.

Jim is a generous man. That’s a story for another time, though. Point is, after decades of mentorship and friendship, he’s given me custodianship of the venerable Portaball, and a cousin: a ZOC-powered 8” f/7.5 home-built solid tube dob with a curved spider. (You’ll see it on this blog dubbed The Planet Killer.)

The Z-8 gets ready for some lunar work alongside a 1964 Unitron 760

“Here’s the mirror specs, but it’s poor taste to wave ‘em around” he told me, handing me an envelope. “Suffice to say, they’re perfect, and that’s all you need to know.”

Once in a while, I’ll pull them off the shelf to look. But mainly, I set up the scope and let people look through it.

It’s hard to estimate, but at least a thousand people have seen ancient starlight through this time machine. It feels right to take it to outreach events.

One time a lady almost fell into it. She grabbed the scope, I grabbed her, we all froze awkwardly, and then I said everybody clap your hands, a reference to the Cha-Cha Slide. Nobody got it, but the scope is fine, and we all had a good laugh.

The Direct Hit

A line stretched out one hot summer night up in Shenandoah national park. Tourists jostled, I ran my ranger voice, and one little boy stooped to the eyepiece for a first look at Saturn.

“You see it?” I asked, dropping back to earth.

He got still, quiet, reverent. We looked at each other in the twilight.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

With an outreach crew at Patrick Henry’s Red Hill

Thank you

Carl and Chuck, thanks to you and your crew for making this possible. Thanks for making my mother cry with views of glittering stars. Thanks for lighting the eyes of countless tourists up on the mountain. Thanks for world-class views of the planets for the kids. Thanks for that first view of spiral arms in the Whirlpool galaxy, the quasar on a frigid winter night when the snow froze over, for extragalactic supernovae, the glad light of the Andromeda galaxy, the “clover” of the Trifid in a star-spangled summer sky, a Titan shadow transit, “The Pup” Siris B, the seasonal Christmas lights of color in the Orion Nebula, and countless other reasons to marvel. I’ve written articles with this mirror, made new friends, and hopefully given others lifetime memories, too.

Yes, the papers are impressive, just as the specs on a Stradivarius are legendary. But to hear that Strad sing, or to see the Great Wall near the Wild Duck Cluster, when the darkness suddenly turns into tv-static stars…

In that case of an August evening, it wasn’t a choice to go to bed early. I had to stay up late.

Gentlemen, if you read this, send me your mailing address, and I’ll send you a bag of coffee as a thank-you. Your mirrors have made me good at drinking it.

For The Rest of Us

Carl’s quote is worth thinking on:

There’s nothing wrong with imaging or electronic telescopes. But the point of this blog is to further visual astronomy. Carl Zambuto’s wizardry has brought the message home to a thousand friends’ eyes thirsty for starlight–with one mirror.

(And he’s made a bunch of them.)

I’m taking his retirement statement as encouragement to keep looking up–and to keep the wonder alive. I invite you to join me.

Fair warning: have some coffee ready. If you get a chance to use his mirrors, you’ll need it in the morning.

Lastly, haven’t used a Zambuto? Come on by sometime. I’ll be glad to share the views. As Jim would say on that June night so long ago:

Come take a look at this.

Thanks for the views.

–Josh

A young astronomer spies Jupiter in the twilight with the 12.5” ZOC-powered Portaball at an impromptu Big Meadows outreach event, Shenandoah National Park.