Category: Solar Eclipses

On Aug. 2, 2027, the moon's shadow will sweep across some of the most iconic filming locations from Star Wars, plunging them into darkness during what's being called the "eclipse of the century".

The path of the 2027 total solar eclipse will cross southern Tunisia, where several locations were used to bring the fictional desert planet Tatooine to life. From the dunes of Mos Espa to the rocky Jundland Wastes, Star Wars fans will have the rare opportunity to experience totality at the very places where their favorite scenes were filmed

But not every famous filming location will experience totality, so choosing where to watch will be crucial. Here are four locations that fall directly in the moon's shadow. All times, totality durations and historical cloud cover data come from Time and Date.

1. Eriguet dunes (Mos Espa)

With a massive budget and three prequels to make, Lucasfilm built a new film set that would double as the Mos Espa spaceport on Tatooine for The Phantom Menace and Attack of the Clones. This is where Qui-Gon Jinn, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jar Jar Binks and Padme get stranded, where they meet Anakin Skywalker and where the podrace takes place. Now abandoned, it's in the middle of nowhere, between two huge salt lakes and subject to the intense heat and moving Eriguet dunes — but it is firmly within the path of totality. Nearby are two other shooting locations — the Ong Jemel outcrop, where Darth Maul arrives on the scene, and Yardang, where Qui-Gon and Darth Maul battle — the first-ever lightsaber duel filmed on location.

2. Maguer Gorge (Jundland Wastes)

Often called "Star Wars Canyon" by fans and crew, Maguer Gorge in Jebel Sidi Bouhlel doubled as the Jundland Wastes of Tatooine in Star Wars: Episode IV — A New Hope. It's where Luke Skywalker is attacked by Tusken Raiders, where Obi-Wan Kenobi first appears and where Luke and Obi-Wan discover the slaughtered Jawas. The canyon also provided the distant view of Mos Eisley — the famous "wretched hive of scum and villainy." On Aug. 2, 2027, you'll likely be pointing your macrobinoculars at the eclipsed sun rather than Tusken Raiders.

Steven Spielberg later filmed here for Raiders of the Lost Ark, including the scene in which Indiana Jones threatens to destroy the Ark with a bazooka. Just south of Dghoumès National Park is a desert oasis called Bouhlel Sdada, used for the archaeological dig scenes in Raiders.

3. Ajim (Mos Eisley)

Djerba Island's palm trees, beaches and Mediterranean horizons will make it a popular destination for eclipse chasers after a long totality away from the heat and crowds of Luxor in Egypt. It's also home to three notable Star Wars filming locations. The original movie's Mos Eisley footage was shot here, with Ajim doubling as a Stormtrooper checkpoint ("These are not the droids you're looking for"), the Cantina exterior, and an alley near Docking Bay 94 where stormtroopers watch the Millennium Falcon blast off. In reality, it's an abandoned bakery.

4. Amghar Mosque (Obi-Wan Kenobi's house)

Just north of Ajim, this mosque — originally a fisherman's house — was used as a stand-in for "Old Ben's" house, where Obi-Wan Kenobi gives Luke Skywalker a lightsaber. It was used purely for photography, and no actors set foot here. It was also cut from the movie's Special Edition in 1997, so you'll only find it in the original version. Completists might also want to check out Sidi Jemour Mosque to the north, which was used for scenes with Biggs Darklighter that didn't even make the final cut. IYKYK …

How to go on a Star Wars tour in Tunisia

Tunisia's Star Wars locations are spread across the south, so the easiest way to see several is on an organized tour or with a private driver and guide. Tozeur is the main base for visiting Mos Espa, Ong Jemel and Jebel Sidi Bouhlel, with local operators offering half-day and full-day 4x4 excursions into the desert. Djerba Island is the other major hub for three sights. Longer multi-day tours typically connect Tozeur with Matmata, home to Hotel Sidi Idriss — the Lars Homestead — as well as Djerba.

One tour company, Star Wars Tours, is running a (sold-out) special departure called "Eclipse tour from the Outer Rim" that witnesses totality at the Mos Espa set. Other Star Wars-focused tour operators include Galaxy Tours, though one-day trips to the Mos Espa set from Tozeur are also available.

Where else to watch the eclipse in Tunisia

Tunisia is surely one of the most attractive destinations for the Aug. 2, 2027 total solar eclipse. Historical cloud cover is exceptionally low, while totality reaches around five and a half minutes near the centerline. It also offers established tourism infrastructure and generally lower August temperatures than Egypt, making it an obvious alternative for eclipse chasers hoping to avoid the biggest crowds around Luxor.

You can, of course, visit the Star Wars sets in the days before or after the eclipse. For Tunisia's maximum duration of totality, consider Sfax, where darkness lasts 5 minutes, 41 seconds, or nearby Chaffar Beach, with its long, open Mediterranean coastline. Offshore, the low-lying Kerkennah Islands get around 5 minutes, 39 seconds. Inland, Sidi Bouzid offers about 5 minutes, 33 seconds beneath typically dry skies, while the spectacular Roman amphitheater at El Jem gets 4 minutes, 23 seconds. On Djerba Island, meanwhile, beaches and extensive resort infrastructure make combining an eclipse chase with a conventional Mediterranean vacation particularly easy — with a view of Mos Eisley thrown in for good measure.

Newly released photographs of the sun captured during the Aug. 12 total solar eclipse reveal the sun's outer atmosphere in unprecedented detail.

The images, released by researchers working as part of the Solar Wind Sherpas project coordinated by the University of Hawaii, also show rare structures in the solar wind known as smoke rings. Named for their resemblance to the circles blown by smokers, these vortices were first identified in solar eclipse photographs captured in 2008. The researchers had long struggled to explain the processes behind their formation. They now know the rings are a result of the temperature differences in the coronal plasma and spread along the sun's magnetic lines deep into interplanetary space.

"This year, we have managed to capture those smoke rings really well," Miloslav Druckmüller, a professor of mathematics at the Brno University of Technology in the Czech Republic, who leads the image processing efforts for the Solar Wind Sherpas Team, said in a statement. "They are beautifully twisted vortices and there are very many of them in the corona."

The images, taken from the Pico Trigaza mountain in Spain, also reveal a giant coronal hole — an opening in the sun's magnetic field lines — through which solar wind can escape more readily at very high speeds of up to 500 miles per second (800 kilometers per second).

Coronal holes are cooler regions in the sun's atmosphere that appear darker in extreme ultraviolet and X-ray images taken by probes in space. They form in regions where the sun's magnetic field lines extend outward into space rather than looping back to the surface, allowing high-speed solar wind to escape. These structures can persist for weeks or even months.

Solar eclipse photography provides a unique vista into the processes taking place in the sun's upper atmosphere, the corona, which remain hidden even to cutting-edge space-based observatories.

Space probes and astronomical telescopes on Earth rely on instruments known as coronagraphs to view the corona. As the corona is a million times dimmer than the sun's surface, researchers need to obscure the visible solar disk with an occulter to view it. This occulter, located inside the telescope, has to cover a larger area than just the solar disk itself to protect the images from the effects of diffraction.

During a total solar eclipse, the moon naturally blocks the sun's bright disk, allowing scientists to capture exceptionally detailed views of the inner corona that are difficult to obtain with conventional coronographs.

The total solar eclipse on Aug. 2, 2027, has an ancient feel. It will certainly be a celestial event for the ages — at 6 minutes 23 seconds, it will feature the longest totality on land of the 21st century and the longest anywhere until 2114. However, its point of greatest eclipse occurs just a few miles from Thebes, the magnificent religious and political capital of ancient Egypt's Middle Kingdom and New Kingdom.

On the east bank of the mighty Nile is Luxor, the great city of the living, with its massive temple complexes of Karnak and Luxor. On its west bank is the city of the dead, which includes the Valley of the Kings and the Temple of Hatshepsut. Modern Luxor, population 285,000, is set to become a focal point for eclipse chasers on Aug. 2, 2027, and will attract many thousands of international visitors. They'll come for the forecasted 0% chance of clouds and the era-defining duration of totality, but also to tour ancient Egypt's temples and monuments.

The chances of actually witnessing totality at any of the major temples are probably slim. Still, almost every eclipse chaser headed to Luxor will want to tour them before or after the eclipse. Visitors should be prepared for extreme August heat and check official opening and access arrangements before planning to watch the eclipse at any archaeological site. Certified eclipse glasses are essential during the partial phases; only during totality, when the sun is completely covered, is it safe to look without them.

Ancient monuments in the path of totality

Not all of ancient Egypt will experience totality. Egypt's top-ranking monument, the Pyramids at Giza, near Cairo, lies north of the path of totality and will get a 95% partial solar eclipse. Abu Simbel, on the shores of Lake Nasser south of Aswan, will also see a 92% partial solar eclipse. No matter, Luxor is home to some of the world's most impressive and well-preserved ancient monuments. Here are its temples, necropolises and palaces — and those nearby, also in the 160-mile (257-kilometer)-wide path of totality — that will have the moon's umbral shadow fall upon them on Aug. 2, 2027. All times, totality durations and historical cloud cover data come from Time and Date.

1. Karnak Temple

Dedicated to the god Amun-Ra — a fusion of the hidden god of the sun Amun and the ancient sun god Ra — this vast temple complex will be the hottest ticket in town for the eclipse. One of Egypt's most impressive and well-preserved ancient monuments, it's a place designed by ancient astronomers — the winter solstice sunrise still illuminates the innermost sanctuary. Access arrangements for eclipse day have yet to be confirmed, so keep an eye on official announcements before making plans to watch totality from the complex.

2. Luxor Temple

This is one of Egypt's best-preserved ancient temples and a must-see during the 2027 eclipse. It's on the banks of the Nile near the city center, so it's relatively easy to visit. Dedicated to the god Amun, it is known for its beautiful pillars and intricate carvings. A 75-foot (23 meters) tall obelisk on the east side of its entrance will point at the eclipsed sun almost directly overhead on Aug. 2, 2027. Its missing right-hand obelisk is in the Place de la Concorde, Paris.

3. Valley of the Kings

This incredible necropolis is home to the tombs of the pharaohs and is a testament to the advanced engineering and architectural skills of the ancient Egyptians. Of course, you don't want to be underground for totality, but some of the tombs are a must-see. Your tickets include entry to any three tombs of your choice from those open that day, with extra tickets available for the really impressive ones—the spectacular KV17 (Seti I), small but iconic KV62 (Tutankhamun), and KV9 (Ramesses V & VI). The latter's Corridor G has a ceiling decoration that may depict a deep partial solar eclipse from 1143 BC.

4. Mortuary Temple of Hatshepsut

If one temple is best suited to crowds for an eclipse, it's this vast, open-air gem dedicated to the legendary queen who became pharaoh. However, with almost no shade, it could be the least practical option. Three huge terraces rise above the desert floor and into the cliffs of Deir el-Bahari to the west. It's an absolute masterpiece.

5. Colossi of Memnon

This is where we get to temples that are fairly well known, but likely won't have as much pressure on them from eclipse chasers as the big three — Karnak, Luxor and Hatshepsut. However, anyone looking for ways to get temple architecture into images of an eclipse at zenith should look no further than these two large stone statues of Pharaoh Amenhotep III. Behind them are the ruins of the largest temple in the Theban Necropolis.

6. Medinet Habu

Getting off the beaten track in August 2027 will be near-impossible, but here's an option — the Mortuary Temple of Ramesses III. Featuring towering stone columns, colorful reliefs (despite being 3,200 years old) and famous carvings, it's bypassed by tour buses heading straight for Hatshepsut.

7. Ramesseum

Another temple that, without Karnak and Luxor nearby, would be rammed with visitors, is the Ramesseum — the mortuary temple of Ramesses II. Featuring the remains of a huge fallen statue that inspired Shelley's poem Ozymandias, it's in an area once used by the artisans who built the royal tombs, and slightly off the tourist route.

8. Temple of Khnum

If you want to avoid the scrum of eclipse chasers in Luxor on and around Aug. 2, the Temple of Khnum could be an option. Located in Esna, about 34 miles (55 kilometers) south of Luxor, the so-called 'Rainbow Temple' (for its colorful ceilings) is dedicated to the ram-headed creator god Khnum. Dating from the Greco-Roman era, there's a vast Hypostyle Hall that sits below modern street level, which could be good for some shade.

9. Temple of Dendera

If you want to escape Luxor but (almost) keep its long totality, head to Qena, 40 miles (65 km) north, where one of Egypt's best-preserved and most beautiful temples stands. Dendera was the cult center for Hathor, one of the most important and popular deities in ancient Egypt and known as the 'lady of the sky.' The temple's entrance has six massive columns, each decorated with Hathor's head, and its ceiling features astronomical engravings.

10. Temple of Horus

Another great option for those who prioritize ancient Egyptian surroundings over the longest possible totality is the Temple of Horus, one of the most striking and best-preserved temples in ancient Egypt. About 68 miles (110 km) south of Luxor, it's dedicated to the sun and sky god Horus, one of the main gods in ancient Egypt, whose right eye represents the sun and left eye the moon. The temple's stone roofs are intact, so its Hypostyle Halls, inner chambers and central sanctuary provide some shade.

Spain is one of the easiest places in the world to experience the total solar eclipse on Aug. 2, 2027. The so-called "eclipse of the century" first makes landfall in Andalucía, where totality will last up to 4 minutes and 40 seconds during mid-morning, with the sun comfortably high at around 38-42 degrees above the horizon in the eastern sky. Excellent roads, plentiful accommodation and Málaga's international airport make this an obvious alternative to North Africa and the Middle East.

However, choosing where to watch requires some thought. Southern Spain's narrowing shape funnels the path toward the Strait of Gibraltar, potentially concentrating huge numbers of eclipse chasers around Tarifa, the Costa del Sol and the British Overseas Territory of Gibraltar during the peak summer holiday season.

From busy Mediterranean beaches to mountain villages, here's where to see the total solar eclipse on Aug. 2, 2027 in southern Spain. All times, totality durations and historical cloud cover data come from Time and Date.

1. Tarifa

At the southernmost tip of mainland Europe, where the Atlantic Ocean meets the Mediterranean Sea, Tarifa is likely to be one of the country's busiest eclipse-watching locations because it will experience the longest totality in mainland Spain. Just 9 miles (14 km) across the Strait of Gibraltar from Morocco, the historic port town is known for its whitewashed old town, the medieval Castle of Guzmán el Bueno and its long, sandy beaches. Los Lances and Valdevaqueros offer wide horizons and plenty of open space.

2. Gaucín

For eclipse chasers who would rather head into the mountains than join the crowds on the Costa del Sol, Gaucín is an intriguing alternative. One of Andalucía's classic pueblos blancos, the whitewashed village occupies a spectacular position in the mountains above the coast, crowned by the ruins of Castillo del Águila. Its elevated setting offers sweeping views across the surrounding countryside towards Gibraltar and, on clear days, the mountains of North Africa. Crucially, heading inland doesn't sacrifice too much totality.

3. Gibraltar

Few places in Europe could provide a more dramatic setting for totality than Gibraltar, the tiny British Overseas Territory dominated by its famous 1,398-foot (426-meter) limestone Rock. However, eclipse chasers will need to view either from The Rock or its east coast, where elevated viewpoints and beaches face the Mediterranean and the eclipsed sun. However, Gibraltar has a potential complication — the easterly Levanter wind can create a distinctive cap of cloud over the Rock even when surrounding skies are clear. Another issue is accommodation, which is already at a premium. See Gibraltar Eclipse 2027.

4. La Línea de la Concepción

Immediately north of Gibraltar, La Línea de la Concepción occupies the sandy isthmus between the Bay of Gibraltar and the Mediterranean Sea. Its location creates one of Spain's most distinctive possibilities for eclipse photography. On the Mediterranean side, Playa de Santa Bárbara is a wide sandy beach north of the border, with the immense Rock of Gibraltar rising to the south — a potentially spectacular foreground. The city has around 9 miles (14 kilometers) of coastline, providing plenty of alternatives for eclipse viewing.

5. Estepona

About an hour's drive southwest of Málaga Airport, Estepona is one of the Costa del Sol's most attractive resort towns, with a pedestrianized old quarter of whitewashed streets, colorful flowerpots and squares centered on Plaza de las Flores. For eclipse day, the mile-long Playa de la Rada is the obvious gathering place, with its broad Mediterranean horizon and proximity to the town center. Other attractions include Estepona Marina and the Sierra Bermeja mountains rising behind the coast.

6. Cádiz

Historic Cádiz occupies a narrow peninsula jutting into the Atlantic and is packed with reminders of its long maritime past, including the Cádiz Cathedral, the Roman Theatre and Torre Tavira, one of more than 100 watchtowers once used to spot approaching ships. For eclipse day, the long, sandy Playa de la Victoria offers plenty of open space, while La Caleta provides a more historic setting between two coastal castles.

7. Málaga

Málaga may lose some duration compared with locations farther west, but it makes up for it with excellent transport links, plentiful accommodation and all the attractions of a major Mediterranean city. It combines the hilltop Gibralfaro Castle and Moorish Alcazaba with a Roman theatre, cathedral, museums and a lively historic center. For eclipse day, the obvious option is the coast. La Malagueta beach is within walking distance of the city center, while numerous beaches extend east and west along the Costa del Sol.

8. Torremolinos

One of the best-known resorts on Spain's Costa del Sol, Torremolinos combines a long Mediterranean beachfront with easy access to Málaga and its international airport. Its 4-mile (6-kilometer) promenade links broad sandy beaches, including Playa del Bajondillo and Playa de la Carihuela, offering plenty of potential eclipse-watching spots with views toward the eastern sky. For a higher vantage point, nearby Mount Calamorro rises almost 2,600 feet (800 meters) above Benalmádena, with panoramic views across the Costa del Sol and, on clear days, towards Gibraltar and North Africa.

9. Marbella

Marbella has around 17 miles (27 kilometers) of Mediterranean coastline, so eclipse chasers will have dozens of beaches to choose from, from San Pedro de Alcántara in the west to Cabopino in the east. Options include the sandy beaches and dunes around Cabopino, Las Chapas, Puerto Banús and San Pedro de Alcántara, all with open views across the Mediterranean. Away from the beach, Marbella offers a whitewashed old town centered on Plaza de los Naranjos, while the Sierra Blanca mountains provide a dramatic backdrop to the resort.

10. Motril

Close to the northern edge of the path of totality, Motril gets a shorter eclipse than destinations farther west, but could be among the quieter places on Spain's Mediterranean coast from which to experience it. The largest town on Granada's Costa Tropical sits between the Mediterranean and the foothills of the Sierra de Lújar, with the Sierra Nevada rising beyond. Nearby Playa Granada and Playa Poniente offer broad coastal views.

Ancient Egyptian temples will inevitably dominate the story of the total solar eclipse on Aug. 2, 2027. Luxor, home to Karnak, the Valley of the Kings and some of the most famous monuments of the ancient world, will experience more than six minutes of totality and will attract eclipse chasers from around the world. Southern Spain, particularly the coast around Tarifa and Málaga, is also expected to be busy.

But the path of totality is vast. It will stretch 9,462 miles (15,227 km) across Earth and reach about 160 miles (260 km) wide. After crossing southern Spain, the moon’s shadow will race east across Morocco, Algeria, Tunisia, Libya and Egypt before crossing the Red Sea into Saudi Arabia and Yemen, and continuing across Somalia and into the Indian Ocean.

Along the way are mountain towns, desert oases, Mediterranean islands and historic cities where eclipse chasers can experience anything from a few minutes to more than six minutes of totality. Here are 10 less obvious places than Luxor, Egypt, to consider for the total solar eclipse on Aug. 2, 2027. All times, totality durations and historical cloud cover data come from Time and Date.

1. Vejer de la Frontera, Spain

Thousands will watch the eclipse from Spanish beaches, but inland are some of Andalucía’s gems. Vejer de la Frontera is one of its classic pueblos blancos — “white towns” — a maze of whitewashed houses and narrow streets occupying a hilltop a few miles inland from the Costa de la Luz. Elevated viewpoints across the surrounding countryside could make this an intriguing alternative to watching from the crowded coastline.

2. Medina-Sidonia, Spain

Perched high above the Cádiz countryside, Medina-Sidonia offers something the eclipse beaches cannot: elevation. One of Europe’s oldest continuously inhabited settlements, its historic center contains whitewashed streets, churches and the remains of a hilltop castle, with expansive views toward the surrounding plains. Totality lasts over three and a half minutes.

3. Arcos de la Frontera, Spain

You’ll sacrifice almost all of Spain’s potential totality by heading to another of Spain’s classic pueblos blancos, but what a setting. The old town of Arcos de la Frontera occupies a dramatic limestone ridge above the Guadalete River, its buildings seemingly piled along the cliff edge. Arcos sits very close to the northern limit of the path, which some eclipse chasers seek out specifically for a longer display of Baily’s beads. For an eclipse chaser who values that, scenery over duration, or relative quiet, this geographical knife-edge could be appealing.

4. Asilah, Morocco

Asilah offers an enticing combination of long totality and Atlantic scenery. The compact coastal town is known for its whitewashed medina, brightly painted murals and imposing Portuguese-era ramparts overlooking the ocean. It’s just south of the centerline of the path of totality, so it gets close to the best eclipse durations available in Morocco. Its walls, towers, beach and ocean could all provide enticing foregrounds for eclipse photography.

5. Chefchaouen Kasbah, Morocco

Surely one of the most photogenic surprises anywhere on the eclipse track, Chefchaouen is Morocco’s famous “Blue City,” its old medina filled with buildings painted in shades of blue beneath the rugged Rif Mountains. It also gets a substantial eclipse of roughly four and a quarter minutes, with the sun about 39 degrees high. An elevated viewpoint that captures the medina, the mountains, and the eclipsed sun could produce an extraordinary photograph.

6. Al Hoceïma, Morocco

For a wilder Moroccan eclipse, look east along the Mediterranean to Al Hoceïma. The city sits amid the rugged Rif Mountains, where cliffs and steep hills descend toward beaches and intensely blue Mediterranean water. With its beach resorts, you'll also find plenty of accommodation. It gets a long totality and the dramatic coastal landscape is attractive, though historical cloud cover is less favorable.

7. Oran, Algeria

Algeria’s second-largest city could be one of the more practical ways to experience the eclipse in the country. Oran overlooks the Mediterranean and is backed by hills crowned by the Fort of Santa Cruz, offering different kinds of eclipse experiences. More importantly, it’s on the centerline and gets more than five minutes of totality.

8. Houmt Souk, Tunisia

Djerba — the largest island in North Africa — offers an appealing alternative to the archaeological sites and desert landscapes elsewhere in Tunisia. Known as the “Island of Dreams” for its 300 days of annual sunshine, its main town, Houmt Souk, is known for whitewashed architecture, markets and a historic fortress. The surrounding island brings palm trees, beaches and Mediterranean horizons.

9. Bahariya Oasis, Egypt

For maximum totality without Luxor's expected crowds, Bahariya Oasis deserves serious attention. Centered on the town of Bawiti, this remote depression in Egypt’s Western Desert is surrounded by barren hills, date palms, hot springs and sweeping desert landscapes. It also lies remarkably close to the eclipse centreline, delivering 6 minutes 19 seconds of totality beneath almost dependably clear August skies. Nearby desert viewpoints could provide enormous horizons — although the eclipsed sun will be 79 degrees high.

10. Ta’if region, Saudi Arabia

Most attention in Saudi Arabia will inevitably focus on Jeddah and Mecca, but the Ta’if region offers something completely different. Sitting around 5,580 feet (1,700 meters) above sea level in the mountains east of Mecca, it is known for its cooler highland climate, dramatic escarpments and surrounding peaks. Duration varies substantially across the area because Ta’if lies toward the edge of the eclipse path, so eclipse chasers will need to choose their precise observing location carefully.

I had never seen a total solar eclipse. That's a strange thing to admit for the skywatching writer at Space.com, but the truth is that the opportunity had simply never come up.

When it comes to eclipses, I've always been beguiled by their beauty from afar. I've always hoped to see that strange moment when a black sun manifests to extend a glowing atmosphere into the fleeting twilight of totality. But after 37 years I hadn't once found myself in the path of the moon's inner shadow, and it was starting to feel like something that simply happened to other people.

That all changed when I joined Space.com and my life became anchored in the movements of the planets, moon and stars. I was offered the chance to report on the 2026 total solar eclipse from Spain, while our skywatching editor, Daisy Dobrijevic, witnessed totality from an HX Expedition's cruise aboard MS Spitsbergen in East Greenland. In the end, my first eclipse experience would be everything I had hoped for and more. A perfect blend of science, awe, culture and faith, that I'll carry with me for the rest of my life.

I covered the Aug. 12 eclipse from the small village — or pueblo — of Valoria la Buena in central Spain. There, I joined a team of citizen scientists from the Dynamic Eclipse Broadcast (DEB) Initiative, a voluntary initiative guided by professional astronomers from Southern Illinois University and, where possible, part funded by grants from the NASA Science Mission Directorate and the National Science Foundation. For this eclipse, the DEB was tasked with capturing data on the sun's corona while transmitting a live feed to a NASA webcast from within the path of totality.

Months of preparation, writing and trading emails with the DEB team lead Charles Greenwald came and went. Before I knew it my bags were packed, my passport was in hand and I was standing in a taxi rank outside the Madrid-Barajas Airport in the heart of Spain.

Hours of mild embarrassment ensued as I used broken Spanish and hand gestures to negotiate my way across the city to the Chamartín-Clara Campoamor station. Then onto a high-speed train heading north to Valladolid — a beautiful city whose pronunciation I butchered for the entirety of my stay.

Into the path of totality

Upon arrival I was met by Charles' brother in law Santiago and nephew Andreas, who had travelled from Guadalajara, Mexico to witness the eclipse. Andreas led us on a short detour to hunt down some quality coffee beans — he's something of an aficionado. Then on to Valoria la Buena, by means of a final 30-minute car ride that would take us deep into the path of totality.

I had embraced Charles' idea of joining the DEB group not only for the citizen science, but also because of the unique opportunity to observe the eclipse with a multinational group hailing from Mexico, the U.S. and, more locally, members from Madrid and Valladolid.

Half of the group spoke fluent English while the other spoke none at all — a mix that set the stage for an intoxicating blend of meaningful conversation and rapt observation, as the group talked passionately in Spanish over magnificent home-cooked food prepared chiefly by Santiago, his wife Gaby and Andreas.

Once at the house in Valoria la Buena I finally got the chance to connect face to face with Charles, after months of sporadic video calls. In the months leading up to the eclipse Charles had dedicated precious down time to prepare his team and test new software for the solar telescopes.

As an undergraduate, Charles had studied optics and physics before ultimately pursuing a career in aviation, which nowadays sees him fly around the world for the global shipping and logistics giant FedEx. Over dinner that first night I discovered that he was also a retired colonel in the United States Air Force, and had flown some 35 different aircraft ranging from an F15 fighter to a C-17 globemaster over the course of his military career.

He had first discovered the DEB in an article from Sky & Telescope during a brief FedEx stopoff in Sydney, Australia. After heeding the call for volunteers and spent the next year assembling a team of family and students to capture the Great American Eclipse of 2024.

Several members of the group, including Santiago, Andreas and Arath — a student at the Universidad de Guadalajara — are veterans of that first campaign. For others, like myself, it would be an incredible first. But Charles' passion is what brought it all together.

1 day to totality

In the blink of an eye it was Aug. 11 — and we had just one day to go.

With prep time running short, I packed my camera gear and headed out to our eclipse site, where the DEB team was busy practicing with their solar scope.

My goal was to observe and get the lay of the land. I also needed a little time to practice with my own humble setup — a Fujifilm X-T5 camera with a XF 70-300 mm lens, plus a Manfrotto tripod and a handy solar filter courtesy of Celestron, which worked magic with the aid of a little Blu Tack.

The team had managed to convince a kindly resident to let us set up outside their villa, and to use their internet to ensure connectivity for the NASA stream.

It was a perfect spot with a near-pristine view to the west — an important feature considering that the sun would be less than 10 degrees above the horizon at totality — less than the width of a clenched fist held at arm's length.

There had been a little commotion earlier that day. Upon hearing that his parents had agreed to let perfect strangers access their internet, the son had, understandably, cautioned against letting Charles use the Wi-Fi, fearing that his story was a little too fanciful, and that he was some kind of scam! Thankfully it all got straightened out with a quick Google search, and we didn't have the ethernet plug pulled on the operation.

Charles and Arath were already getting the telescope to track the sun by the time I arrived. They'd also tested their uplink with NASA and the connection to the main DEB team 91 miles (147 kilometers) to the northwest in the city of Leon, which was looking stable.

I took the opportunity to catch up with Arath, who dreamed of pursuing a masters degree in mathematics at Cambridge University upon completing his studies at the Universidad de Guadalajara in Mexico. Nearby, Aimar and Aaron — a pair of passionate high schoolers from Spain — had their heads down as they worked on their own mathematical equations in the patch of shade cast by a solitary umbrella. They had reached out to join the group after hearing about the DEB on a university noticeboard, and later that day quizzed me on the best places to find the latest scientific studies. I'm 80% sure that they're already smarter than me.

All the while I was getting to grips with solar photography. I had — with a little help — managed to centre the sun in my frame and after 15 minutes of toying with settings had snapped my first crisp shot of the solar disk.

Everything was looking great. The weather, our greatest potential adversary, was playing nicely. As I noted earlier, the sun would be low in the sky around the time of totality, putting a lot of atmosphere between us and the eclipse for potential clouds to coalesce in.

But Charles had been tracking the forecasts closely, and everything he'd seen indicated that the western sky would be clear as the eclipse darkened the sky on the 12th. Only one unlikely threat to totality remained.

The summer had seen Europe endure an oppressively dry, hot summer, which had seen wildfires spring up across the continent. Having spent a week just north of the Spanish border in Carcassonne, France in July, I could testify to the colossal smoke clouds that billow up from such a fire, which could easily obscure the sun as firefighters worked to bring it under control on the ground below. Thankfully, no such threat materialized.

I sought a little solitude on that final night before the eclipse. The terrace was unoccupied, so I laid back on the astroturf, traced out the constellations above and allowed my anticipation to build. As I watched, a single Perseid raced through the stars of the Summer Triangle — a stunning opening act for the solar spectacle to come.

Eclipse day in Valoria la Buena

The day of the total solar eclipse had finally arrived — and with it a strange nervous energy that made me feel as if I was vibrating on a cellular level. I was hours from seeing something that had terrified and awed my ancestors, drawn adventurers half way across the globe and allowed scientists to understand the true nature of our parent star.

Charles, on the other hand, confessed to being rested and ready, despite working through a last minute technical glitch that had reared its head in the past few days.

The fan on the computer responsible for sending commands to the telescope and uplinking to NASA had simply given out. At the height of Spanish summer. In the middle of an oppressive heatwave. Ordinarily that would probably have been game over. But this is a team including physics heads, an engineer and all round brilliant people, so they came up with a plan. They built a DIY heatsink.

The gameplan went as follows: Andreas put a bunch of wet towels in the freezer overnight. Said towels were then transported in a cooler and placed at the bottom of a nice, shaded cardboard box at the observation site, with foil between the towel and the computer.

Add to that a hand fan and cooler blocks from the freezer and Viola, you've got yourself a homemade heatsink. Human ingenuity versus technology and a Spanish heatwave. We would know the victor soon enough.

In the meantime I had another first to experience. Andreas had arranged for a local Catholic priest to hold a special Mass at the local church to mark the day of the eclipse. And I'd been invited to join them.

I am not a Catholic myself, but have always been taken with the beauty of European churches and cathedrals, and was keen to experience Mass. After quizzing Andreas on theology and triple checking it wasn't an imposition, I gratefully accepted.

The church bells had been a constant companion during my stay in Valoria la Buena, chiming every hour on the hour since my arrival. They emanated from a stunning 250-year-old church located at the heart of the pueblo, which had been constructed over three distinct phases.

During Mass, the priest remarked in Spanish on the incredible nature of the upcoming eclipse as the group listened attentively while wearing specially made eclipse t-shirts. A poignant moment of religion and science in absolute harmony.

A unique eclipse

After, I disappeared to prepare while Charles and the DEB team ferried the scope and equipment to our observing site. There was time for one final communication test with NASA.

Then it was time. And it wasn't just us.

Half the town must have turned out to experience the eclipse. Citizen scientists and family mingled with friends and locals as an impromptu block party got underway in Valoria la Buena.

I set up my camera close to Charles and the DEB scope, as the DIY heatsink worked to cool the fanless laptop in defiance of the Spanish heatwave.

Aaron, Aimar, Rosa and Siempre watched on as I double-checked the solar filter and settings on my camera, while glancing paranoid at the eclipse timings on my laptop. We were quickly joined by a semi-circle of enthusiastic locals curious about everything from the eclipse and the DEB to science journalism and Space.com.

As a result I was lost in conversation as the moment of first contact arrived and the moon took its first tentative bite out of the sun. Someone shouted and I snapped to. I immediately forgot how to use a camera. Remembered. And snapped my first photograph of the eclipsed sun.

My first instinct was that something was ineffably wrong. The sight had activated an ancient and superstitious circuit in my brain that insisted the sun simply shouldn't look this way. That I should be doing something to make it whole again.

Nervous excitement waxed in time with the waning of the solar crescent, which grew thinner with each minute as the moon's silhouette sank ever deeper into the sun. It was spectacular, but in hindsight little more than a prelude to the wonder of totality.

As the last of the solar disk threatened to slip behind the moon I panicked. Alternating between eclipse glasses and my hastily retrieved solar binoculars, unsure which would provide the best experience.

The binoculars.

Shouts of awe echoed behind as the final shred of the solar disk created a magnificent Diamond ring flare effect on the trailing edge of the lunar disk. I ripped the solar filter away from my camera and lowered the binoculars from my eyes.

The moment I had envisioned for years in my mind's eye years had finally arrived, more spectacular than I could have hoped.

With my own eyes I saw the sun's atmosphere reach out from behind the moon's silhouette. A black star shining in a false twilight.

As before, the sight stroked a primal part of my psyche that told me it was all wrong. Like watching a leviathan pass just beneath the surface in a fathomless ocean. To my senses, the eclipsed sun seemed to fill the sky. Venus was visible gleaming star-like and brilliant above, but the impossible sun was our only focus.

I grabbed my unfiltered binoculars for a closer look - something that can only be done when the sun's photosphere is completely masked by the moon during totality. A bright prominence glowed to the left of the lunar disk, outshining the corona that surrounded the natural satellite.

It was our eclipse. 1 minute and 37 seconds of totality. Another will follow in 2027, but it wouldn't be the same. It'll be a different corona, at a different altitude, enjoyed with different people. Utterly unique.

I triggered my camera shutter a dozen times. I'd knocked it out of focus upon removing the solar filter. It didn't seem to matter.

As the sun emerged from behind the moon I turned my eyes back to my camera, which had decided to stop talking to my phone at some point during totality. Ten minutes of berating the inanimate object later the connection was back, and my (out of focus) views of totality were on their way to our solar eclipse live blog.

Charles and the team had been diligently capturing data on the sun's atmosphere throughout totality, while streaming live views to NASA as they held their eclipse show in Leon.

It was, to me, a shining example of citizen science, which had brought family, friends, locals and students together as one to enjoy one of the most spectacular sights that our solar system has to offer.

The partially eclipsed sun set over the western horizon as Charles accepted the cheers of the DEB group. Our last night in Valoria la Buena was spent among newfound friends, discussing the Strokes, love and coffee, all while enjoying a little rum.

My return journey was a malaise of delayed trains, a cancelled flight and a sea of unfamiliar faces. But none of that mattered. I was dwelling on that magnificent black sun at the moment of totality, of the unnatural twilight and of the people I met along the way.

On Aug. 21, 1914, a total solar eclipse temporarily darkened skies across Europe and Asia. A young German astronomer and friend of Albert Einstein's, Erwin Finlay-Freundlich, led an expedition to the Crimean Peninsula of Russia, where he hoped to record observations that would verify Albert Einstein's general relativity theory.

This theory predicted that the light from distant stars appearing very close to the sun's edge should shift due to the curvature of space. Those stars would only be visible during a total solar eclipse, when the moon blocks out the sun's bright light. Unfortunately, the start of World War I just 20 days before the eclipse foiled the expedition. After Germany declared war on Russia, Freundlich and his colleagues were captured by the Russian army and their equipment was confiscated.

After the war, a solar eclipse on May 29, 1919 was used to confirm Einstein's theory of general relativity, so the experiment was ultimately a success.

Why it mattered

Today, Einstein's general relativity theory is a given. This theory is firmly cemented in our modern understanding of how the universe works (not counting fringe conspiracists). But looking back just over 100 years, it is interesting to see how hard scientists had to work to gather evidence to validate this theory and consider the way war and geopolitics played a part in postponing this work.

Scientists continue to validate the theory to this day through a variety of methods and observations, though a modern trek to witness a total solar eclipse would be a lot easier than it would have been in 1914.

This expedition, or rather the planned expedition, took place well over 100 years ago. Whether for the purposes of trying to validate Einstein's general theory of relativity or just for fun, people have experienced eclipses for as long as we can date back.

It's fascinating to look at the parallels between this planned expedition over 100 years ago and the treks that people around the world (including Space.com reporters) take in modern times to see a total solar eclipse. For example, during the 2026 total solar eclipse, people flocked from all over to locations like Spain and Iceland to experience the eclipse far from home.

When the 11,000-ton cruise ship Le Boréal set sail from Nice, France, on Thursday, Aug. 6, its 205 passengers and 136 crew members began a voyage whose success would depend not only on careful planning, but also on the ship's ability to outmaneuver clouds at the last critical hour.

The ship is owned and operated by the French cruise line Compagnie du Ponant. This eclipse cruise was the result of more than a year's planning by Ponant, and most of those who signed on were there specifically to witness the celestial spectacle; that shared purpose heightened the drama of the eclipse itself.

This was going to be a sunset eclipse, with the sun no more than three degrees above the horizon. To picture that height, make a fist and hold it out at arm's length. Place the bottom of your fist on the horizon; the top of your fist measures about ten degrees. During totality, the sun would appear only about one-third of a fist-width above the horizon. Even if the sky overhead was clear, clouds could still gather near the horizon, leaving open the possibility that the sun might be hidden at the critical moment.

I was on board Le Boréal as both a lecturer and the ship's onboard meteorologist. The main advantage of using a cruise ship to view an eclipse is its two-dimensional mobility, allowing it to maneuver around potential cloud cover. In practice, that meant working with Captain Mathieu Tsingrilaras to position Le Boréal on eclipse day in a location free of any clouds that might otherwise obscure the total eclipse.

Although the Iberian Peninsula and the adjacent waters of the Balearic Sea — a body of water between mainland Spain's eastern coast and the Balearic Islands — typically enjoy warm, dry, clear weather in August, the circumstances of this eclipse could still prove problematic.

Also serving as a lecturer for the cruise was Serge Brunier, a well-known French photographer, reporter, and writer who has specialized in popular depictions of astronomical subjects. He is also the co-author of the beautiful coffee-table book, Glorious Eclipses.

Serge would accommodate the French-speaking passengers onboard. Early in the cruise, as we were speaking with each other, a French passenger came up to Serge and asked, "Le temps sera-t-il dégagé pour l'éclipse?" ("Will we have clear weather for the eclipse?"). Serge nodded toward me and replied: "Il faudra demander à Joe ; c'est lui qui s'occupe de la météo." ("You will have to ask Joe; he is in charge of the weather.")

Our itinerary took us to many different places during our eight-day cruise, including two towns in Corsica (Calvi and Bonifacio), the French cities of Marseille and Port-Vendres as well as Spain where we stopped at Barcelona and Palma de Mallorca in the Balearic Islands. Through it all, we experienced weather that was mainly sunny, very warm and quite humid. An upper-level ridge of high pressure acted as a heat dome over much of Europe.

Weather threat on eclipse day

The first warning came on Aug. 10, when a minor disturbance rippled through the heat ridge and produced widespread clouds, showery rains and thunderstorms across eastern Spain, spilling into the eclipse zone over the adjacent Balearic Sea. Had the eclipse taken place that day, no amount of mobility would have brought us a clear view. Fortunately, the disturbance quickly moved east, allowing high pressure to build back over the region.

By eclipse day, Aug. 12, conditions appeared to have turned in our favor. The day began beautifully sunny and continued that way into the afternoon. Our ship was docked at Palma de Mallorca, then set sail at 4 p.m. Central European Summer Time (CEST) for our preselected viewing location, heading west-northwest along the center line of the path of totality.

Shortly after departure, images from EUMETSAT, a geostationary weather satellite looking down from 22,000 miles (35,400 km) above Europe, revealed the problem we had been trying to avoid.

A large convective cloud — formed when warm, damp air rises into colder air above — began to rapidly evolve over part of Spain's coastline just inland from the Gulf of Valencia. It soon became apparent that if we did not alter course, that cloud would almost certainly block our view of the total eclipse.

After consulting with Captain Tsingrilaras, we decided to take Le Boréal southwest. That maneuver would cause the cloud, then directly ahead of us, to shift to the right of the sun as it descended the west-northwest sky, improving our odds for viewing totality.

That course correction became the turning point of the voyage.

Totality at sea

As the eclipse began, other cruise ships apparently stayed their original courses. Le Boréal's course change, however, kept us clear of significant cloudiness, aside from a few thin clouds that occasionally crossed the sun but did little to hinder the show. At 7:37 p.m. CEST, the moon took its first bite out of the lower right limb of the sun.

At 8 p.m., Captain Tsingrilaras oriented Le Boréal, so that the back of the ship (the stern) faced directly toward the sun. Crowds gathered on the top three decks of the ship, observing the sun through special eclipse glasses that had been distributed the previous evening.

Moments before totality, when only a sliver of sun remained, I told passengers that I had been asked since the start of the day about what our chances were for seeing the total eclipse. "I think our chances of seeing it are now 100 percent!" That comment was met with a resounding cheer.

What was particularly striking was the approach of the moon's shadow; a diffuse darkening accompanied by a rapid west-to-east sweep of darkness. The onset of totality was marked by a dazzling diamond ring effect which lasted a couple of seconds, then a circular corona appeared around the darkened solar disk; it appeared somewhat yellowish in color as opposed to pearly white, likely due to a layer of haze near the horizon.

An unusually large and brilliant red prominence, readily visible even with the unaided eye, appeared at the 9 o'clock position. Because the sun was so low in the sky, the famous moon illusion caused it to appear especially large. This only added to the beauty of the spectacle.

Totality lasted 95 seconds. Even at its midpoint the overall light never became so dim that the second hand on a watch was hard to see. The only other object that was plainly visible in the sky was Venus, well off to the upper left of the eclipsed sun. The air temperature did not change much, probably due to the thermal inertia of the surrounding water.

The terminal diamond ring was perhaps even more stunning than the first. The corona could be kept in view for several seconds by blocking out the emerging crescent of sunlight with one's thumb. It seems that no shadow bands were observed either before or after totality.

As the sun gradually emerged from behind the moon, it sank lower in the sky and was still about two-thirds covered when it took on the shape of an orange-red shark fin disappearing beyond the horizon — a fitting final image for a spectacular eclipse at sea.

Nothing succeeds like success

In the end, Le Boréal's successful eclipse viewing was a reminder that even the most carefully planned astronomical event still depends on swift judgment and adaptability. By combining advance preparation with a timely course correction, the voyage transformed a looming weather threat into an unforgettable view of totality.

I would also like to thank my wife, Renate, who accompanied me on this amazing adventure and for reading so much for reading my first draft of this article and to my daughter Maria and Scott Zimmerman for assisting me with my video and image selections.

Joe Rao serves as an instructor and guest lecturer at New York's Hayden Planetarium. He writes about astronomy for Natural History magazine, Sky and Telescope, The Old Farmer's Almanac and other publications.

I woke up on the morning of Aug. 12 and looked out of the window to something I hadn't dared hope for: blue sky.

After days of scrutinizing weather models that seemed determined to test the nerves of everyone aboard the HX Expeditions ship MS Spitsbergen, somehow, against the odds, the clouds had cleared. Even then, I didn't trust it (especially after my 2024 eclipse experience). We had traveled thousands of miles, crossed the Greenland Sea and ventured deep into Scoresby Sund to put ourselves in the path of the moon's shadow. Now there was nothing to do but wait — and hope the sky stayed clear.

The wind howled across the deck, but nobody seemed to mind. If anything, it was helping us, keeping the clouds at bay. The atmosphere aboard felt like Christmas Eve with a ship full of overexcited children. Some guests had chased eclipses across the world; for others, this would be their first. Either way, Aug. 12 was the date we'd been waiting years for.

But by the time we reached Scoresby Sund, something had shifted.

I had traveled all this way to look up. Instead, I found myself looking around. I'd come here for 2 minutes and 14 seconds of darkness. Instead, Greenland had spent the previous days relentlessly demanding my full attention.

After a couple of days at sea during the crossing from Svalbard to East Greenland, our first sight of land appeared almost like a mirage on the horizon. Soon, icebergs were drifting past the ship and the scale of the landscape became increasingly difficult to comprehend. We could sail for hours through Northeast Greenland National Park without seeing a single sign of human civilization beyond our own ship. At times, moving through those immense geological landscapes felt less like traveling across Earth and more like exploring some distant, icy-covered moon.

Yet, the more otherworldly Greenland appeared, the more it made me appreciate our own planet.

At times it felt as though I'd stepped into a geology textbook. Processes and structures I'd previously seen reduced to diagrams were suddenly towering above me. And amongst all the enormity were the tiniest signs of life: lichens and miniature Arctic plants hugging the ground beneath vast mountains and glaciers.

The scale and contrast were overwhelming at times, and no view stayed the same for long.

An iceberg viewed from one side could morph into a completely different form as the ship sailed past it. A break in the clouds could transform a gray mountainside in seconds. In Scoresby Sund, even the ice seemed to echo the landscape around it as jagged peaks, flat-topped slabs and sculpted ridges rose from the water like miniature versions of the colossal mountains behind them.

The Greenland scenery was a gift that kept on giving, and I found myself increasingly reluctant to go inside. I began meticulously scanning for wildlife, because I'd learned how quickly something extraordinary could appear.

On an impromptu evening walk in Longyearbyen before we set sail, beluga whales had suddenly surfaced in the bay. Later, in Greenland, while I was distracted by a spectacular circumzenithal arc and sundogs overhead, one of a handful of people still standing on deck spotted two tiny white shapes in the water. I thought they were birds bobbing along.

Then I lifted my camera and zoomed in.

Polar bears.

It became something of a lesson for the expedition: stay curious, keep your eyes open and remember to look both up and down.

That curiosity seemed to unite everyone aboard. Guests had traveled from around the world for this eclipse opportunity. There were seasoned eclipse chasers looking to experience totality somewhere extraordinary, first-timers who had no idea how they would react and people drawn as much by the adventure and wildlife, as the eclipse itself.

HX Expeditions' onboard science and education programme gave that shared enthusiasm somewhere to go. Our days were filled with nature landings, lectures, citizen-science projects and conversations with experts, helping us do more than simply travel through Greenland. The programme encouraged us to pay closer attention — not merely to see the landscape, but to understand and truly experience it.

Conversations jumped from eclipses to wildlife, travel, geology and perhaps, inevitably for a ship full of skywatchers, clouds. We took part in the GLOBE Observer cloud citizen science project and found ourselves happily studying them — while collectively hoping they would be nowhere near the sun on eclipse day.

The eclipse had brought us together, but the journey had quickly become about much more.

Then, on Aug. 12, our attention returned to the sky.

When the moon took its first tiny bite from the solar disk, excitement rippled across the deck. For the next hour, it steadily consumed more of the sun.

As totality approached, the quality of the light began to change.

It became strangely yellow and dull, yet at the same time the landscape seemed almost unnaturally sharp. It was eerie — familiar enough to still resemble daylight, but wrong enough that your brain knew something extraordinary was happening.

What amazed me most was how long that daylight persisted.

Even when only the tiniest sliver of sun remained, Greenland was still illuminated. I knew scientifically how intensely bright the solar photosphere is, but knowing it and watching that minuscule fraction of sunlight continue to illuminate an entire landscape were two very different things.

Then the final fraction disappeared.

The world around me plunged into twilight.

And there it was.

Totality.

I knew exactly what I was supposed to see. I've written about eclipses for years. I understand the science. I had seen thousands of photographs of the corona, prominences, Baily's beads and diamond rings.

None of it prepared me for the feeling of actually seeing one.

The first thing that struck me was how large the eclipsed sun appeared to the naked eye. Photographs had never prepared me for that sense of scale, nor how much detail I could see with my own eyes.

The moon itself looked impossibly dark — a black void punched into the sky — surrounded by the pearly white corona. Long streamers stretched away from the sun and around the moon's edge I could see bright pink prominences.

I was so surprised to see this vivid pink color with my own eyes. For 2 minutes and 14 seconds, I saw the sun as I had never seen it before.

But even then, I couldn't just look up.

I looked around. Jupiter and Mercury shone clearly off to one side of the eclipsed sun, with Mercury far brighter and easier to spot than I had expected. Venus blazed on the other side.

Then I looked down. Below the eclipsed sun were icebergs. Beside us rose the immense walls of Scoresby Sund. Glaciers carved their path through the landscape.

Above it all hung that black disk and its enormous, delicate corona. My brain simply couldn't take it all in.

There was too much beauty. Too much scale. Too much happening at once.

People use words such as "mind-blowing" and "speechless" so often that they begin to lose their meaning.

But my mind was really blown. And I really was speechless. Perhaps the best way I can describe it is that my mind felt full, but quiet. Full because there was almost too much to comprehend, but quiet because for those fleeting moments, there was room for nothing else.

The intensity of the experience surprised guests who had originally joined the voyage for different reasons.

"My husband and I came to see the wildlife, and we were actually in awe of what we saw in relation to the solar eclipse," Kenya Haupt, from Colorado, told Space.com. "Truly an emotional experience"

The reasons for joining the expedition varied, but beneath the moon’s shadow, the experience became a collective one.

For Shubhada Maitra, from India, it was her first total solar eclipse.

"When I looked around me, I just had a feeling that we were one community, taking part in one of the most spectacular, perhaps once-in-a-lifetime celestial events," Maitra said. "Although we came from different countries, different nationalities, genders, all of that, that solar eclipse just bound us together."

"Without saying anything, we were just so connected in that experience."

Lisa Marie Morse, from Rhode Island, described the eclipse as both "joyous and melancholy."

"In that moment of darkness, I felt a powerful connection with all living things, to an infinite ancient rhythm locking us together for 134 seconds of shared awareness, then releasing us back into our daily slumber," Morse said. "It was magical."

Then, almost as quickly as totality had arrived, it was ending.

The first brilliant beads of sunlight appeared from behind the moon.

They were beautiful, but there was a sadness in seeing them too. The corona, prominences and extraordinary black void that had dominated the sky were about to disappear once more into the overwhelming glare of the sun.

Two minutes and 14 seconds had somehow felt both packed with experience and impossibly brief. I had just enough time to look with my naked eye, search for planets, check it out through binoculars and try to absorb the reactions around me.

Then it was gone.

For seasoned eclipse chaser Roy Tillcock from the Isle of Wight, the clear view had come as a genuine surprise.

"This was one of the most unexpected eclipses I've seen," he said. "I did not have high hopes of seeing it, and there it was. Brilliant."

And, as if to underline just how fortunate we had been, the clouds rolled in shortly after totality. A few minutes later, and this could have been a very different story.

Some skywatchers were emotional. Others were exhilarated. Many, like me, seemed to be struggling to find words big enough for what had happened.

Perhaps that is part of why eclipse chasing becomes so addictive. We can explain the science of totality in extraordinary detail. We can calculate the path of the moon's shadow years in advance, travel thousands of miles to stand beneath it and know exactly when and where darkness will fall.

But knowing what to expect is not the same as experiencing it.

The following morning, Greenland was still there, still demanding my undivided attention. Icebergs drifted past the ship. Mountains towered above the fjord. The sunlight shifted and the landscape transformed once again. I had traveled all this way to look up.

But somewhere along the journey, I had learned to truly look around. Here I was, standing on a planet of glaciers, oceans, wildlife and ancient rock, watching its moon pass perfectly across its star at a moment in Earth's history when their apparent size in our sky happened to match. How lucky are we to experience any of this? Luck, ultimately, is something no eclipse chaser can ignore.

We could calculate where the shadow would fall. We could sail into its path. We could scrutinize forecasts, prepare our equipment and position ourselves as carefully as possible.

But we couldn't command the clouds to cooperate.

Nature always has the final say. And on Aug. 12, 2026, in a remote fjord in East Greenland, nature said yes.

Editor's note: This trip was made possible by travel and accommodation provided by HX Expeditions.

This week's total solar eclipse captured the world's attention, and millions of skywatchers looked up (with the correct protective eyewear, hopefully) to experience the moon blocking out our star's light. And, as you can see in this image, even the International Space Station (ISS) itself got in on the fun.

What is it?

On Aug. 12, 2026, the moon completely blocked out the sun's light for millions of lucky skywatchers witnessing a total solar eclipse.

But the moon isn't the only thing orbiting Earth. Tons of satellites and probes do too, and that includes the ISS. This created a truly remarkable moment for some skywatchers. With the right equipment, it was possible to see the silhouette of the ISS in front of the sun.

This composite image shows eight different frames of the ISS silhouetted on the sun's face as the moon takes a "bite" out of our star to create a partial eclipse.

Why is it incredible?

Solar eclipses like this week's total solar eclipse really bring people together. It creates opportunities for humans to come together and gather for a common goal.

And while the ISS is featured in this image, we may also want to consider the astronauts aboard. In other words, people on Earth weren't the only ones who got to participate in the marvel.

The Expedition 75 astronauts on the ISS (NASA astronauts Jessica Meir, Anil Menon, and Jack Hathaway; ESA (European Space Agency) astronaut Sophie Adenot; and Roscosmos cosmonauts Pyotr Dubrov, Andrey Fedyaev and Anna Kikina) caught the show too as they orbited our planet. There they were, in between Earth and the moon, as our planet's neighbor blocked out our star.