Star*Points for February, 2013 Forgotten Constellations Like the changing ads on billboards lining a highway, different patches of stars have changed names over time. Besides western culture, far-flung civilizations around the globe have projected their beliefs, values, mythologies, and tools onto star fields scattered across the celestial sphere. Let us take a look back at a few of the forgotten constellations. Today there are 88 recognized constellations - the same number as keys on a piano. They were adopted by international treaty in 1930. That is the treaty that set the constellation borders. The modern definition of a constellation isn't so much a star picture or pattern as it is an area of the sky. The 88 completely cover the sky, like a quilt blanket made with oddly shaped patches. Just as the official constellations depict creatures and heroes - both real and mythical - as well as devices and inventions, so also do the defunct ones. Sources for these names include, among others, Richard Hinckley Allen's "Star Names: Their Lore and Meaning," and George Lovi and Will Tirion's "Men, Monsters and the Modern Universe." Most people have heard of the constellation Taurus, the bull. But have you ever heard of Taurus Poniatowski, or Poniatowski's Bull? It was named to honor the king of Poland in 1777. Its stars occupy part of the modern summer constellation Ophiuchus, the serpent bearer, which itself is probably unfamiliar to some readers. Amateur astronomers may have heard of, if not seen, Musca, the fly, in the far southern sky never visible from Maryland. Years ago there was another fly in the sky. Musca Borealis - the northern fly - located in what is now Aries the ram, buzzing above the animal's back. Felis was a cat, and is not to be confused with the 90-year-old cartoon character Felix the cat. Felis' stars are now part of the Hydra the female water serpent constellation, and are located about 10 degrees south of the star Alphard, which Tycho Brahe referred to as Cor Hydrae, the serpent's heart. Besides cats, the sky has gone to the dogs. There is of course Canis Major and Canis Minor, the greater and lesser dogs. There also used to be two other named dogs that are now grouped together in the hunting dogs constellation Canes Venatici. As shown in Alexander Jamieson's 1822 "A Celestial Atlas," the northern dog is named Asterion and the southern dog is Chara. Other dogs in the sky include the defunct constellation Cerberus, a mythological three-headed guard dog at the gates of hell. It was usually depicted as being clinched in the left hand of strongman Hercules. There are a number of antiquated contraptions among the discarded constellations of old, such as Officina Chemica. I guess it was a chemistry set. The modern constellation that took its place, Fornax, the furnace, doesn't seem to be much of an improvement. There is also Machina Electrica, an electrical machine, and Apparatus Sculptoris, a sculptor's apparatus, whose modern name is simply Sculptor. The printing press was even honored once with the constellation Officina Typographica just east of Sirius, the brightest star in the night sky. There was also Quadrans Muralis, a mural quadrant device used for measuring stars. The name is still remembered today in a January meteor shower called the Quadrantids. The quadrant is situated between Hercules' right foot and the left hand of Bo”tes, the charioteer. A hot-air balloon, the constellation Globus A‰rostaticus, was named in commemoration of the great ascent in France by the Montgolfier brothers in 1783. Its location was near the eastern edge of the modern constellation Microscopium, the microscope. But the most famous former constellation of all is one that is said to have been first created in ancient times by the Greek philosopher Claudius Ptolemy. Its name is Argo Navis, and it was a great sailing ship but now consists of four separate constellations. They are Puppis, the stern; Vela, the sails; Carina, the keel; and Pyxis, the mariner's compass. The parts of the ship that rise above our horizon is all of Pyxis, most of Puppis, and some of Vela. Carina never rises in Maryland, so whenever I travel southward I try and catch a night or two just viewing the bright and seemingly unfamiliar broad spattering of bright stars in this region. This past January I observed Argo Navis once again, this time from the West Indies. Carina's very bright star Canopus underscores Sirius and the bright winter stars of Orion above it. Simple binoculars plainly showed the spectacular large nebula known as Eta Carinae. They also enabled identification of many interesting star clusters such as IC 2602, the "Southern Pleiades," as well as light and dark patches in the Milky Way along which Jason and the Argonauts and forever sail aboard the constellation formerly known as Argus Navis. Just as a rose by any other name smells just as sweet, so does Argus by any other name shine just as brightly on warm winter nights down in the tropics.