The Apoapsis SocietyAmateur orbit-watchers, est. the night it finally clicked

Field Manual No. 1

Orbital Mechanics
by Hand

Five working instruments for learning how falling becomes flying. Your hands go first; the mathematics follows close behind.

Handling notes

  • Orange marks are for your hands. Drag them.
  • Every handle also answers the keyboard: Tab to reach it, arrow keys to adjust, Shift for coarse moves.
  • Instruments hold still until you touch them. Nothing here moves because you scrolled. If the sky is turning, it is because you turned it.
THE APOAPSIS SOCIETY · ORBITAL MECHANICS BY HAND ·
Frontispiece · Drag the tip of the moon's velocity arrow. The manual begins when you do.

Log 000 · Why this manual exists

You are holding a manual, but not the reading kind. Every figure below is a working instrument: the Earth in Figure 1 genuinely pulls, the trajectories are computed by a real two-body integrator, and the velocity arrows obey your hand. We built it this way because orbits refused to enter our heads any other way. A paragraph can tell you that an orbit is a fall that keeps missing; only your own hand on the cannon makes you believe it.

So the Society asks one thing of you: predict first, then drag. The difference between what you expected and what the orbit does is the entire lesson. Scrolling will move you down the page. It will never move the sky. Only your hands do that.

Log 001 · A tall mountain and no wind

Falling Forever

In 1687 Newton proposed a thought experiment: carry a cannon up an impossibly tall mountain and fire it sideways, harder and harder. Below is that experiment with the thinking made touchable. The mountain stands 300 kilometers tall (real ones are shorter; the exaggeration buys us a vacuum), and gravity in this figure is the real law, an inverse square field with μ = GM = 398,600 km³/s².

Slow shots arc over and strike the ground. Faster ones strike farther, because the Earth's surface curves away beneath them. At 7.73 kilometers per second the ground curves away exactly as fast as the ball falls toward it, and the shot comes home from behind: a circular orbit. The ball is still falling. It never stops falling. It simply keeps missing. And past 10.93, it outruns gravity's interest entirely.

Exercise 001. Drag the arrow. Find the speed where falling becomes missing. Then find the one where the ball leaves and never writes home.

Muzzle speed
7.73 km/s
Result
circular orbit
Period
1h 30m
Shots fired
3
Mons Newton is honestly impossible and pedagogically ideal. The warm-up arcs at 3.0 and 5.5 km/s are the Society's own, left in as reference. Integrator: velocity Verlet, symplectic, which is why a closed orbit holds its shape instead of quietly leaking energy.

What your hand just learned is the whole secret: orbit is not about going up. It is about going sideways fast enough that the ground never arrives.

Log 002 · One position, one velocity, one future

The Shape of Speed

An orbit is not a track laid in the sky. It is a consequence. The spacecraft below has its entire future written by two arrows: where it is, and how fast it is going. Drag the ship along its path and the velocity adjusts to match that spot. Drag the tip of the velocity arrow and you are choosing a different future, instantly, everywhere: the ellipse redraws, and the two labeled points slide to their new homes. Apoapsis is the high point, periapsis the low. The Society is named after the view from the top.

Try the trade we prize most: speed spent here becomes altitude there, half an orbit away. Pull the arrow longer at the low point and watch the far side leap. Aim it off the tangent and the whole ellipse rotates, because whatever else changes, the new orbit must still pass through the one point where you fired.

Semi-major axis
12,811 km
Eccentricity
0.47
Apoapsis alt
12,500 km
Periapsis alt
380 km
Speed at ship
4.03 km/s
Period
4h 00m
Each experiment leaves a ghost, so you can see the family of futures you have already tried. The one fixed star in every ellipse: the point where you fired. Everything else is negotiable.

Log 003 · The quartermaster prices every burn

The Transfer

In 1925 Walter Hohmann, a city architect who did celestial mechanics after hours (our kind of person), published the cheapest known road between two circular orbits: half an ellipse that kisses both. It costs two burns. The first, prograde, stretches the far side of your orbit up to the target. The second, fired at apoapsis, lifts the low side to circularize. Fuel is delta-v, and delta-v is everything: your tanks hold 5.00 km/s and the optimum for this pair of orbits is 3.43. Spend little, and the Society takes notice.

Exercise 003. Slide the diamond node around your orbit, pull its handle prograde to plan a burn, then arm it and run the clock. Reach the target ring at 42,164 km (where a satellite hovers over one meridian) and circularize within 3 percent.

Δv spent
0.00 km/s
Hohmann optimum
3.43 km/s
Planned burn
+0.00 km/s
Status
holding, awaiting your plan
Distances to scale; the Earth, mercifully, is not. The frame widens as your planned orbit grows. Score is efficiency: the optimum 3.43 km/s divided by what you actually spent.

Notice where the cheap road runs: you never point at the target. You raise your far side until it touches the ring, coast the long half ellipse, and buy the circle at the top.

Log 004 · The calendar is a navigation instrument

The Window

Mars is not where you aim. Your ship coasts the long half ellipse for 259 days, so you aim at where Mars will be, a point the instrument draws for you as a ghost. The geometry only works when Mars leads Earth by about 44 degrees at departure. Miss the moment and physics does not punish you; it just hands you the synodic wait, about 26 months, until the angle comes around again.

Scrub the calendar with your hand. Watch the phase angle fall toward 44 degrees and the ghost slide toward the arrival mark. Launch when you believe. The sky keeps its own calendar.

Calendar
Sol 0
Phase angle, Mars ahead of Earth
182.8°
Angle that works
44.3°
Next window
in 300 days
Verdict
no probe aloft
Orbits to scale, circular and coplanar by license; planet sizes are lies of convenience. The departure burn is fixed at 2.94 km/s onto the Hohmann half ellipse; your only decision is when. Arrivals within 8 million km count: real missions carry correction fuel.

Log 005 · Final exercise, probation ends

The Rendezvous

The final exam is a handshake 400 kilometers up. Your station runs a circular orbit, one lap every 92 minutes, and you trail it by about 470 kilometers. Here is the sentence every probationary member gets wrong on the first try: to catch up, brake. Braking drops you to a lower orbit, and lower orbits are faster, so the gap closes. Then, and this is the half everyone forgets, undo your cleverness: burn prograde as you arrive, raise back up, and match speeds. Skip that step and you will sail past the station, waving.

The proximity view engages inside 220 km; the station keeping ring is 30 km, generous by real standards and strict enough for probation. Grade is your total delta-v: under 35 m/s is clean flying.

If you docked, you now hold the two ideas this manual exists to hand you: an orbit is a velocity, and patience is propellant.

Log 006 · Adjourned

That is the whole manual. No formula was required to begin, and yet you have now used vis-viva, conic sections, symplectic integration, phase angles, and the synodic period, all through your fingertips. The equations are waiting in the appendix whenever you want to shake their hands properly.