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| Maximum eclipse and nearing the end: projections of the 2026 event. |
The recent solar eclipse visible from the UK generated a fair amount of media coverage. Some of the language used was a little unusual to say the least. ITV's Martin Stew spoke of how eclipses have 'mystified' humanity for generations, which is an odd thing to say given that the ancient Chinese and Babylonians were able to predict solar eclipses as early as 2500BC. What's mystifying about the moon obscuring the sun, when you understand the process involved? Primitive races treated eclipses with fear and superstition, but to say that they've 'mystified' us all this time sounds like a throwback to those ignorant ages. The BBC didn't do much better, describing the moment of totality as 'surreal'. On the whole, the media coverage of the eclipse leaned towards this kind of new age, emotive description: that is when they weren't focused on the unavailability of eclipse glasses.
The other odd feature of the 2026 eclipse in the media is how long it took for the event to even make it onto the news agenda. Only in the days immediately prior to the eclipse did attention turn towards the coming event, and it was focused mainly on travellers heading into Iceland (a poor choice, as viewing conditions were far better in Spain). This contrasts sharply with the situation back in 1999, when the media were on the case well ahead of the event. Admittedly, in 1999 there was no social media, and the total eclipse was visible from the extreme end of Cornwall, making it the only time totality would be visible from the British mainland until 23 September 2090. In 1999, the eclipse generated a veritable mini industry, with books, posters and other memorabilia produced to commemorate the event. Patrick Moore was still with us and journeyed to Cornwall where he joined the crowds to experience totality under a 100% overcast sky. There was live coverage on BBC1 from 9.45 until 11.30am, with totality occurring at 11.04am. This year, it fell to the news programmes to report on the event, which, admittedly, they all did, and ran as the lead story on the evening's bulletins. But somehow, it all fell short of the hype surrounding 1999's eclipse.
Having a passing interest in astronomy (that stops well short of the technical) I'd known about the 1999 eclipse more than ten years ahead of the event, and was also well aware in advance of the partial eclipse on 12 August of this year. Even if I'd not been so clued up in 1999, it was impossible not to have been aware of the coming event. The date probably helped to ramp up the level of interest in the 1999 eclipse, which was the last total eclipse of the century. Search online and you'll find dozens of commemorative items from the time: newspaper covers and supplements, wallcharts, mugs, eclipse-watching glasses, a video narrated by Brian Blessed and even a set of commemorative thimbles. This year, even with the eclipse very near total here in the UK, there was nothing of the kind to be had. It lacked that magic ingredient: totality. I dare say those who travelled to Iceland or Spain might have found a few stalls selling eclipse merchandise, but here in Britain it was a case of glasses or nothing.
Solar eclipses aren't rare. Total eclipses occur somewhere on the Earth's surface roughly every eighteen months, but many are visible only in remote areas of ocean or around the poles. When a total eclipse is visible from any of the major continents, it is automatically a media event. There was much coverage of the 2024 total eclipse which was visible across large parts of North America. As a much smaller island, Britain hasn't been so well favoured, with only 158 total eclipses having occurred since the beginning of the first millennium. During the 20th century there were just four, although the majority barely touched the northern and southernmost tips of the country, and the only one to be visible from any further inland was the eclipse of 29 June 1927, when totality lasted just 24 seconds and was largely obscured by cloud. The total eclipse of 2090 will once again graze Cornwall, and totality will be viewable from Poole, Newquay, Plymouth, Southampton and the Isle of Wight – in case you want to note the date in your diary...
I'm not sure when I first became aware of solar eclipses as a phenomenon. I was born in 1961, a few weeks after a total eclipse that was visible across much of Europe and parts of the then Soviet Union. I don't remember hearing or seeing anything about eclipses in the media until 1968, when a partial eclipse was visible here in Britain. Our mum told us there was 'a neclipse of the sun' (I misheard her) that day, and we were probably told about it in school – it was in progress during morning break. Another partial eclipse followed on 25 February 1971, and this time I recorded it in my diary, somewhat over stating the dangers of looking directly at the sun: 'Partial eclips (sic) of the sun is DEADLY!!!!' Patrick Moore had appeared on television (either on Blue Peter or Nationwide), advising viewers not to look at the sun with the naked eye – and certainly not through a telescope! There were further partial eclipses in 1972, 1973, 1975 and 1976, none of which made it into my diaries. The 76 eclipse was again on a schoolday and was in progress during morning break: I remember trying to see it in a mostly cloudy sky. Of all the eclipses I'd been able to view to date, this was the largest, with coverage of the sun's disc ranging from 85% in northern Scotland to 95% across southern England. Despite the extent of the eclipse – which at its maximum was equivalent to the 2026 event – I don't recollect the media having much to say on the topic. It was certainly mentioned, but didn't generate anything like the amount of coverage we've seen recently.
Using fairly rudimentary equipment: a telescope or binoculars projected onto card mounted on a music stand (!) I've been able to view some of the most interesting eclipses of the past decade or so, along with a couple of transits of the sun's disc by the planets Venus and Mercury, which are even rarer events (there won't be another transit of Venus until 2117, but Mercury will cross the sun's disc again on 13 November 2032). Back in 1999, I didn't even have eclipse glasses, but the sky was part clouded, so I risked a few glances at the moment of maximum eclipse – which remained visible on my retinas for a good ten years or more after the event. What I also noticed about the 1999 event, and was very noticeable during the 12 August 2026 eclipse, was the strange 'faux twilight' that came on as the eclipse neared maximum. It's nothing like the full darkness experienced under a total eclipse, but it's still strangely atmospheric, especially when all the birds in the neighbourhood head off to their roosts, believing it to be dusk. There's also a gathering gloom in the sky below the sun which during last night's eclipse took on a rusty tint. Photographing the sun's projected disc, one could also see it turn increasingly yellow as it descended in the sky (see the top photo).
There will be another large partial eclipse visible from the UK on 2 August next year, with maximum eclipse occurring at 10.07am. After that, there's a 40% partial at sunset on 26 January 2028, and a 50% partial at sunrise on 1 June 2030, but neither of these is an ideal time of day to view. The next large partial (60-70% coverage) will be on 21 August 2036, for those of us still around to see it. If you want to see totality, next year's eclipse is total across the Atlantic, Southern Spain, Gibraltar, North Africa and the Indian Ocean, and the eclipse of July 2028 is total across parts of Australia. The Aussies get another in 2037, but the total eclipses of the 21st century are, for the most part, frustratingly far from centres of population. Unless you're a seasoned globe trotter, a science correspondent for the news media, or a presenter on The Sky at Night, to experience a total eclipse of the sun is a genuine once in a lifetime event... or, for many of us, a never in a lifetime event...
'Fun fact': the total eclipse of the sun mentioned by Carly Simon in her song 'You're so Vain' was either that of 7 March 1970, or 10 July 1972, both of which were visible from the Canadian Maritimes, including Nova Scotia.