Your Basic Report on the Total Eclipse of the Sun
It was your typical lead-sky coastal overcast. No hope of
seeing the Total Eclipse. Our little cabin is in San Marine, a kind of
suburb/designated plot/with State Park north of tiny Yachats, OR. We had the choice of standing
on the beach about 400 yards down the hill and missing the predicted 99.99% of the Total
Eclipse due to weather, or driving 7 miles in the fog to the eclipse totality’s
southern edge in Waldport to get the 100%. M wanted to see the corona if possible so we gambled
and ventured out onto 2-lane Hwy 1 in the mist. It wasn’t all that crowded in the municipal beach parking lot at
the entrance to Alsea Bay. We found a parking
spot right in front of the tidal flats area and joined the about 30 other early
birds standing on the sidewalk and awaiting the event. The traffic had been advertised
as nightmarish and sometimes it was, but at 8:00am when we left it was
negligible.
It wasn’t promising. The fog persisted – wouldn’t lift - and
besides, the mist was thick and so were the clouds. We got a breakfast burrito
and some coffee from the Subway up on the main street, then came back and stood
near Leona, a pretty JW who even had her JW signboard out. The sun was barely visible as a disc. After a bit we went to the van and sat in the
back under the hatch and listened to the local radio station (Newport) count down the Totality in between
country music songs while we drank our coffee.
Everybody on the sidewalk already had their cardboard eclipse glasses, so the extras we brought weren’t needed. Turns out the fog and the mist
were Good Things: as the eclipse began you could look up and with your naked
eyes see a blurry round sun disk peeking through the overcast, with an equally
blurry crescent-shaped bite being munched out of it. (Billman nailed it with his Pac Man comment.) If
you put regular sunglasses on you could watch the whole deal with some clarity.
We decided that it was okay, we didn’t actually NEED to see the corona, just
seeing the sun-disc covered up would be fine.
BUT: As the Totality moments arrived, we experienced a
wonderful break in the weather (see ‘microclimate’ associated with eclipses in
your local Google.) Right on time! The clouds parted, the fog went away and we
were in a little ‘sunbreak’ area that made us have to put our cardboard eclipse
glasses on. It got darker and darker as the sun was covered. The streetlights
in the parking lot came on. The temperature dropped about ten degrees (it wasn’t
all that warm to begin with). The crows and gulls quit flying and perched on
the Bank’s rooftops or out on the sand of the beach. Then boom the whole sun
went out and Molly&I got to see the corona, albeit a bit filtered by residual fog, ... and the Diamond Ring. I looked on the ground around the Torrey pine behind
the sea wall, but there were no funny little crescents or anything in the
shadows. I managed to get one pic of the eclipse thru my eclipse glasses but I screwed up and had the camera set on "wide angle" so it's kinda small:
As the sun began to return, the crowd – now about 100 folks
along the sidewalk – cheered and applauded. I quipped something about Ra, the
sun god, but nobody got it. The
streetlights went out. M&I hugged and kissed each other and grinned with the
crowd around, including the lady who had shown up without eclipse glasses and
was appreciative of the pair we gave her.
The fog and the overcast returned.
We watched the lot empty out and decided to brave the traffic
for the trip back to our cabin. It took about ten minutes to make a turn onto
the Highway. But then the cars thinned to the normal congestion and we got home
in no time.
A good time was had by all. Thanks, Solar System!
