Prepare for the invasion of the Orionids!
Off the Top of My Head
By Paul Murray
There are many reasons to get out of bed at four in the morning, although most of them involve livestock, small children or a distended bladder, but this October, the universe is offering another: the chance to watch tiny pieces of Halley’s Comet burn across the sky above Karamea.
The annual Orionid meteor shower is approaching its peak, and our relatively dark rural surroundings give us a useful advantage. All we need is a clear sky, a warm jacket, maybe a campfire and the willingness to exchange a little sleep for something rather wonderful. Oh, and of course, we’ll also need a clear sky.

Despite the familiar expression “shooting star,” no stars are falling out of the sky. A meteor is the brief streak of light produced when a small piece of material from space enters our atmosphere at tremendous speed and disintegrates. The object in space is a meteoroid; the light show is a meteor. If a fragment survives to reach the ground, it becomes a meteorite, but most shower particles never get that far.
A meteor shower happens when Earth crosses a stream of debris travelling around the Sun. Think of a comet as a rather untidy visitor, leaving dust along its orbit. When our planet encounters that dusty trail, some of the particles hit the atmosphere and briefly announce their arrival.
The Orionids come from debris shed by Halley’s Comet. Their entry speed is about 66 kilometres a second…a fairly efficient way to turn a small speck into a memorable event. Some leave a glowing trail that lingers after the initial flash.

Halley last visited the inner Solar System in 1986 and returns in 2061. Fortunately, we do not have to wait for the comet itself: its scattered debris provides this annual October encounter, and another shower, the Eta Aquariids, in May. Cosmic recycling has its attractions.
Set the alarm…carefully
The Orionids are active from 2 October to 7 November, with the main peak expected around 21–22 October 2026. For Karamea, I would pencil in the early mornings of Wednesday 21 and Thursday 22 October. Thursday morning follows Wednesday night; it is easy to lose a day when reading overseas astronomy advice.
This year there is a complication. A bright, waxing Moon will wash out fainter meteors while it is above the horizon. The best compromise is to watch after moonset, before dawn begins to brighten the sky.
For central Karamea, approximate times in New Zealand daylight saving time are: Wednesday 21 October: Moon sets about 4.00 am; the first astronomical dawn light begins about 4.55 am. Thursday 22 October: Moon sets about 4.25 am; the first astronomical dawn light at this time of year begins about 4.50 am.
That makes Wednesday’s roughly 4.00–4.55 am window particularly useful, even though Thursday is the morning following the commonly advertised peak night. On Thursday, try about 4.25–5.00 am, understanding that the sky starts gradually brightening around 4.50. Brighter meteors can remain visible as twilight develops. Sunrise is much later, around 6.30 am; darkness starts slipping away well before the Sun appears.
These are calculated times for an open horizon, rounded for practical use. Hills, trees and your particular viewing spot will change when the Moon disappears. Get settled 20–30 minutes beforehand. If only one morning is clear, take it: the peak is a forecast, not a performance scheduled to the minute.
To find the Orionid meteor shower, look towards the eastern to north-eastern sky in the early hours of the morning. Orion, recognisable by the three bright stars of his belt (also known in New Zealand as the Pot), provides a useful landmark. The meteors appear to originate from a point near Orion, but they can flash across any part of the sky, so find a comfortable spot with a wide, unobstructed view and enjoy the spectacle. The best viewing from Karamea should be in the hours before dawn, when Orion is higher in the sky.
Around 4.00 am the radiant will be in the north-north-east, roughly 27 degrees above a level horizon. By 5.00 am it will be closer to north and about 31 degrees up. Three clenched fists stacked at arm’s length give a rough guide to 30 degrees.
You do not need to identify every star, or stare at that one spot. The meteors can streak across a broad area of sky. Recline, look roughly halfway up the sky and let your eyes take in as much as possible. Orion is a signpost, rather than a tiny target to concentrate on.
Nor are the meteors actually arriving from those distant stars. Their paths appear to lead back towards one point because of perspective, rather like railway tracks appearing to meet in the distance.

A dark back garden or open paddock, with permission, may be all you need. Choose somewhere with a broad northern and eastern view, away from streetlights and security lights. A comfortable spot at home could be better than an expedition beneath trees or behind a ridge. You are looking up into the sky, so a a sea view is an optional bonus.
Bring a deck chair, blanket, warm clothes and something hot to drink. Leave the telescope and binoculars indoors: your unaided eyes give you the wide view this job requires. Allow at least 20–30 minutes for your eyes to adjust, and resist checking your phone. A bright screen is an excellent way to undo your preparations.
Allow an hour if you can, including settling-in time. Typical Orionid activity is often quoted at around 10–20 meteors an hour under favourable conditions, but there is no guarantee that we’ll be able to see that many from Karamea. Our relatively low radiant, moonlight, twilight and any cloud will reduce the tally. Expect quiet stretches; several good flashes would still make a worthwhile outing and sitting quietly under the stars is a good soul massage even if the meteors don’t shower.
Check the cloud forecast before sacrificing your sleep. Even in Sunny Karamea, celestial entertainment is occasionally impeded by a substantial cloud curtain. If it’s raining, it’s probably not a good night to see the meteor shower.
There is something rather gratifying about sitting quietly beneath the stars while remnants of a famous comet meet our atmosphere. No tickets, no subscription, no advertising break…just a bit of ancient dust, a very big universe, and us, looking up from our little corner of the heavens.
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Halley’s Comet: A Frequent Guest in Our Solar System
By: Christina Griffith (Originally Published in 2019)
Every 75 years or so, Halley’s Comet, also known as Comet Halley, passes through Earth’s neighborhood along its orbit. Since the dawn of man, many humans have been fortunate enough to see it twice in their lifetimes.

American astronomer Fred Whipple coined the phrase “dirty snowball” to describe the composition
of comets we are familiar with today. Comets are made of ice, dust, and small particles of rock. They are solar system bodies that usually orbit the sun in highly eccentric orbits that could take them millions of years to complete. Comets that take less than 200 years to make the journey, like Halley’s, are called periodic. When these cosmic travelers pass closer to the sun, the warmth heats the icy nucleus and it begins to release gasses. This produces the characteristic “coma,” or what we call the comet’s tail.
Civilizations around the world have recorded the regular appearance of Halley’s Comet. The first confirmed sighting is believed to have been made by Chinese astronomers in 239 BCE, documented in the Shih Chi and Wen Hsien Thung Khao chronicles. However, in 2010 researchers with Brigham Young University at Provo, Utah reviewed Greek histories describing a meteor strike in the Hellespont region between 468 and 466 BCE, which occurred at the same time as a comet sighting. Based on the timing and trajectory of the comet described, this might possibly be the earliest recorded sighting of Comet Halley.

The Babylonians documented astronomical observations in cuneiform texts called astronomical diaries. Only a handful survive, but archaeologists have discovered tablets and fragments that date from ca. 750 BCE to possibly as late as 75 CE. Though heavily damaged, what remains of these texts tells us the Babylonians had meticulously mapped the sky and made daily observations of the movements of celestial bodies. In both 164 and 87 BCE the Babylonians recorded the apparition of a comet. Researchers have been able to use the astronomical data about the path and timing of the sightings to confirm these were both Comet Halley.
Roman records first document the appearance in 12 BCE and again in 66 CE by Flavius Josephus. This apparition was considered a harbinger of the Roman destruction of Jerusalem.
It was the return of Halley’s Comet in 1066 CE that cemented its place in the annals of historic omens. Its appearance in the skies that winter was taken as a portent of bad news for Anglo-Saxon King Harold II. William the Conqueror would lead the Norman invaders to victory months later at the Battle of Hastings.



Identifying Halley’s Comet: Edmund Halley (1656–1742), a British astronomer, mathematician, and physicist, determined in the 17th century that the comet that passed overhead in 1531, 1607, and 1682 was the same body. He was an accomplished scientist who throughout his career made invaluable contributions to star charts, recorded Mercury’s transit across the sun, and calculated the size of the solar system based on Venus’s orbit. A protégé of Sir Isaac Newton, Halley made observations to prove Newton’s laws of motion and funded the publication of the Principia Mathematica. From an observatory on Saint Helena island in the southern Atlantic in September of 1682 he observed the same comet reported 75 and 76 years earlier, calculated its orbit, and predicted its return. The comet was named after him posthumously when it appeared, as he predicted, in 1758.
Incidentally, the name “Halley” is traditionally pronounced like valley. It is believed that the American pronunciation is due to an association with the 1950s band Bill Haley and his Comets. Halley’s Comet’s last pass was in 1986, which was unfortunately a poor opportunity to observe the comet for Earth-dwellers: not only were we on opposite sides of the sun, but the comet was relatively far away compared to earlier passages, and our modern visibility was diminished by pollution. Fortunately, for the first time in human history, we were able to go to it. The Soviet Union, the European Space Agency, and Japan launched probes to study and photograph the comet. The International Cometary Explorer, a satellite launched in 1978 in a heliocentric orbit to study solar winds and earth’s magnetosphere, was repurposed in 1982 to intercept comets. It flew through Halley’s tail, collecting vital data. Our next opportunity to see Comet Halley will be in 2061.Ä

CHRISTINA GRIFFITH is Associate Editor of Expedition.
FOR FURTHER READING
Edwards, L. “First sighting of Halley’s Comet pushed back two centuries.” PhysOrg, September 13, 2010. https://phys.org/ news/2010-09-sighting-halleys-comet-centuries.html#jCp
Graham, D.W. and E. Hintz. “An Ancient Greek Sighting of Halley’s Comet?” Journal of Cosmology 9 (2010): 2130–2136. journalofcosmology.com/AncientAstronomy106.html
Stephenson, F.R., K.K.C. Yau, and H. Hunger. “Records of Halley’s Comet on Babylonian tablets.” Nature 314 (1985): 18.


Griffith, Christina. “Halley’s Comet.” Expedition Magazine 61, no. 1 (May, 2019): -. Accessed October 16, 2026. https://www.penn.museum/sites/expedition/halleys-comet/














































































































































































































































































































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