Tag Archives: gemini

[November 16, 1966] A Grand Finale (Gemini 12)


by Kaye Dee

As I write, it’s less than a day since the splashdown of Gemini 12 brought NASA’s second manned spaceflight programme to an overwhelmingly successful conclusion, demonstrating that the Space Agency has finally mastered the art of spacewalking. It’s incredible to think that it’s only been 20 months since the first manned Gemini mission was launched, but the packed schedule of ten flights has tested out all the techniques that the space agency needs to advance to its Apollo lunar programme.

Two for the Show

Gemini 12's Command Pilot was former Naval aviator Captain Jim Lovell (left in photo above). Making his second spaceflight, Lovell previously flew on the Gemini 7 long duration mission and now holds the record for the longest time spent in space by any astronaut or cosmonaut. Pilot for this mission was rookie astronaut USAF Major Edwin “Buzz” Aldrin, who performed an unprecedented three successful extravehicular activities (EVAs) during this flight. The only member of the astronaut corps to hold a Doctorate, Aldrin is a specialist in rendezvous and docking techniques, and on this mission he put that knowledge to very good use.

A “Halloween” Patch

Gemini 12 was originally scheduled to launch on October 31, so Lovell and Aldrin had considered a Halloween theme for their mission patch. They wanted to evoke Halloween with the use of orange and black colours and also planned to show their Gemini capsule launched on a witch’s broomstick instead of a rocket! However, with the launch rescheduled to November, only the Halloween colour-scheme remained of the original concept.

The final design features the Roman numeral XII at the top of the round patch, in the position it would be on a clock-face. Just like an hour hand, the Gemini spacecraft points to the XII, a reminder that this is the final flight of the Gemini programme. The crescent Moon on the left side of the patch symbolises the ultimate goal of the upcoming Apollo programme.

Training for Weightlessness

Gemini 12's main goal was to complete three EVAs that would demonstrate that NASA had finally cracked the problem of successfully carrying out spacewalking operations, a technique crucial to the Apollo programme.

The astronauts who attempted to perform spacewalks on Gemini 9, 10 and 11, had all reported that operating in orbit was much more difficult and tiring than the simulations conducted using the KC-135 weightlessness training aircraft. They also complained that there were few handholds on the exterior of the Gemini and Agena to help them move around in Zero-G. Consequently, a new approach to training was employed for Gemini 12, which I understand was suggested by Astronaut Aldrin himself, who is a keen scuba diver.


"Buzz" Aldrin practices installing a handrail between the Gemini capsule and Agena target vehicle, in an underwater training simulation

In addition to the KC-135 flights, Aldrin trained in a large pool containing a Gemini mockup. In the pool, special weights were added to the astronaut’s spacesuit to create “neutral buoyancy,” offsetting gravity so he would neither rise nor sink, and Aldrin spent several EVA simulation training sessions of more than two hours underwater.

As well as this new training technique, more handrails and handholds were added to the Gemini capsule, along with a waist tether that would enable Aldrin to turn wrenches and retrieve experiment packages without too much effort.

Dr. Rendezvous Saves the Day, Again!

After two delays caused by technical issues, the final Gemini mission lifted off on the afternoon of November 11 US time. On its third orbit, Gemini 12 prepared to dock with the Agena target vehicle, but problems with the Gemini's onboard radar threatened to make that impossible.

Luckily, Aldrin had already developed procedures for onboard backup rendezvous techniques in the event of radar failure. Drawing on his expertise, Aldrin used a sextant and his slide rule, measuring the angle between the horizon and the Agena. Once he had confirmed the information with his rendezvous chart, Aldrin calculated corrections with the spacecraft’s computer, enabling the rendezvous and docking to be successfully accomplished.

Rendezvous with the Sun

Despite the successful rendezvous, some anomalies with the Agena’s turbopump during launch led to Mission Control cancelling a planned boost to a higher orbit, like that conducted on Gemini 11. Instead, NASA took the opportunity to have the crew photograph a solar eclipse through the spacecraft windows at the beginning of mission day two.

Using the Agena’s secondary propulsion system, Gemini 12 changed orbits to place itself above South America at the right time and location to capture the first colour images of a total solar eclipse free from the interference of the Earth’s atmosphere. During the scant eight seconds that the astronauts could view the eclipse, they snapped four images that are expected to help scientists discover the secrets of the solar corona. The pictures were taken with film sensitive to ultra-violet light, which does not penetrate through the Earth's atmosphere.

Standing Up in Space

About two hours after photographing the eclipse, Aldrin commenced his first EVA, with his head and upper body exposed to space as he stood in the open hatch above his spacecraft seat. During this “stand-up EVA”, which lasted almost two and a half hours, Aldrin took the time to accustom himself to the space environment, which it was thought would better prepare him for his later spacewalk.

One of his first jobs was to install a handrail between his hatch and the docking collar of the Agena that would aid his movements during his day three spacewalk. Aldrin mounted a camera on the side of the spacecraft, with which he took a close-up picture of himself (above), the first shot of its type ever taken! He collected a micrometeorite experiment, and took photographs of the Earth as well as ultra-violet astronomical photography.

Aldrin’s photographic tasks were part of the 14 scientific, medical, and technological experiments planned for Gemini 12. Although five experiments could not be fully completed, those that were included: frog egg growth under zero-g conditions; synoptic terrain and weather photography; airglow horizon photography; and UV astronomy and dim sky photography.

Walking and Working in Space

Gemini 12 flight day three began with some minor fuel cell and manoeuvring thruster issues that would last for the rest of the mission. They did not, however, prevent the highlight of the flight from taking place: a planned two hour tethered spacewalk by Major Aldrin. Until Gemini 12, successfully performing work outside a spacecraft was the one Gemini objective that had eluded NASA, but Aldrin exceeded even the most optimistic hopes for this flight as he performed a record two hours, nine minute and 25 second EVA.

Attached to a 30-foot umbilical cord, Aldrin used the handrail he had installed the day before to assist in attaching a 100-foot long tether between the nose of the Gemini and the Agena. With the handholds, he did not experience the problems Gordon encountered on Gemini 11. Aldrin’s approach to his spacewalk was to go slowly and carefully, resting for two-minute periods between tasks. In fact, about a dozen two-minute rest periods were built into the EVA schedule to prevent Aldrin from becoming exhausted like previous Gemini spacewalkers. 

Moving to the spacecraft’s aft adapter, Aldrin supported himself with overshoe restraints and waist tethers to carry out a number of work tasks. He was able to fasten rings and hooks, connect and disconnect electrical and fluid connections, tighten bolts and cut cables. Aldrin then moved across to the Agena, where he worked at pulling apart electrical connectors and putting them together again. He also tried out a torque wrench designed for the Apollo programme.

At the completion of his spacewalk, Aldrin returned to his Gemini seat with no fatigue and all his tasks accomplished. This demonstrated that the use of neutral buoyancy training, available handholds and foot restraints on the spacecraft, and a slow and measured pace of work while in space, are the ingredients needed for future successful EVAs during the Apollo missions. 

Going for a Spin

The other major task for flight day three was a repeat of the gravity-gradient stabilisation/artificial gravity experiment performed on Gemini 11. Undocking from the Agena, Gemini 12 moved to the end of the tether connecting the two vehicles and then fired its thrusters to slowly rotate the combined spacecraft. Although they had some difficulty keeping the tether taut, the astronauts were able to use centrifugal force to generate a small amount of gravity during the four hour, 20 minute exercise, and achieve gravity-gradient stabilization. After releasing the tether connected to the Agena, Gemini 12 pulled away from the target vehicle and did not re-dock with it again.

One More Time

The last day of Gemini 12’s mission began with an attempt to sight two yellow clouds of sodium particles ejected by a pair of French Centaure rockets launched from the Algerian Sahara. This experiment was designed to measure high altitude winds. Although Lovell and Aldrin could not see the clouds, they did attempt to photograph them using directional instructions from the ground. We’ll have to wait until those films are developed to see if they were successful.

Shortly afterwards, as the spacecraft came over Australia, Gemini 12’s hatch opened for the final time, and Aldrin conducted a second stand-up EVA. Lasting 55 minutes, this brought Aldrin’s total spacewalking time up to a record five hours and 30 minutes! Most of this EVA occurred as Gemini 12 passed over the night side of the Earth, so that Aldrin could aim his camera at “hot young stars”, which have stimulated the curiosity of astronomers all over the world. He also took numerous ultraviolet photographs of stars and constellations.

Mission Accomplished

After a spaceflight lasting 94 hours, 34 minutes and 31 seconds, Geminin 12 made the second computer-controlled re-entry of the programme, splashing down safely in the western Atlantic just three miles from their target, near the recovery aircraft carrier USS Wasp.

Captain Lovell and Major Aldrin have now been recovered and are on their way back to the United States for post-flight debriefing. But we already know that the Gemini 12 mission has been a fitting grand finale to the Gemini project, clearly demonstrating that NASA has achieved all the goals it set for the programme: it has now mastered rendezvous and docking, direct ascent to orbit rendezvous, long-duration spaceflight equivalent to the time of an Apollo lunar mission, and – the trickiest of all, as they discovered – the art of spacewalking.

We should not forget that Gemini has been a team effort, directly involving more than 25,000 people from NASA, the US Department of Defence, other government agencies, universities and research centres, industry and tracking station partners overseas. Everyone involved should feel great pride in the way spaceflight has been advanced in an amazingly short time.

Very soon, the manned Apollo programme will commence, and we can all hope that it will lead to a successful landing on the Moon before the end of this decade. But we should not forget that its success will stand on the shoulders of the Gemini programme.

Postscript

But where are the Russians in the race to the Moon? No Soviet manned flight has been announced since Voskhod 2 in March last year. Has the USSR withdrawn from the race? That seems unlikely, but why do they appear not to have attempted rendezvous and docking missions? Perhaps they have decided to use a different method of reaching the Moon, such as direct ascent, using a massive multi-stage rocket, without the need for orbital rendezvous? After all, as far as we can tell, they still have larger and more powerful rockets than Western nations. Only time will tell, but I think there are still many surprises in store from the USSR before either the East or West wins the Space Race!



(Want more exciting space stories?  Join us for Star Trek tomorrow night at 8:30 PM (Pacific AND Eastern — two showings)!!)

Here's the invitation!



[September 18, 1966] Soaring Higher (Gemini 11)


by Kaye Dee

Back in July, Gemini 10 accomplished an incredibly ambitious mission, and I wondered then what the next Gemini flight could do to top it. Now we know. In its three-day mission, Gemini 11 carried out a packed program: it made a direct ascent to its Agena target vehicle, soared even higher than its predecessor, conducted two EVAs and 12 different experiments, created artificial gravity and even performed the first computer-controlled return to Earth. I’m exhausted just listing all these highlights!


Gemini-11 prime and backup crews (L to R): William A. Anders, backup crew pilot; Richard F. Gordon Jr., prime crew pilot; Charles Conrad Jr. (foot on desk), prime crew command pilot; and Neil A. Armstrong, backup crew command pilot

Anchors Aweigh!

You could almost say that Gemini 11 has been a US Navy mission, since both its crew are naval officers. The Command Pilot, Commander Charles “Pete” Conrad Jr., was selected in the second astronaut group in 1962. He was previously the Pilot for the then-record breaking Gemini 5 mission, spending almost 8 days in space. Making his first spaceflight, Gemini 11 Pilot L.t Commander Richard “Dick” Gordon Jr. was part of NASA’s third astronaut intake in October 1963. Both men were previously naval aviators and test pilots.

There’s also a nod to the crew’s US Navy background in their mission patch, which was designed in Navy colours of blue and gold. The major milestones of the mission are indicated by stars. The first orbit rendezvous with the Agena is indicated by the tiny star on the line representing the mission’s low Earth orbit, while the actual docking is marked by the large star on the left. The star at the top marks the plan to reach a record high apogee, and the star on the right signifies Astronaut Gordon's spacewalk. The three events symbolised by the three large stars are also depicted visually, with representations of the docked Gemini 11 and Agena, a gold line representing the high apogee orbit and a spacewalking astronaut. The Roman numeral XI soars above the Earth from the launch site in Florida.

Preparing for Apollo

An important goal of Gemini 11 was to prove the feasibility of the plan for direct ascent rendezvous on Apollo lunar missions, in which a returning Lunar Module will lift off from the Moon’s surface to rendezvous with the Command Module as it passes overhead. To practice this technique, Gemini 11 would attempt to rendezvous directly with its Agena target vehicle on its first orbit, rather than taking around four orbits, as has been the case on earlier Gemini flights. To achieve this manoeuvre, the Atlas-Agena target vehicle had to launch within the desired time, while the Gemini itself had only a two-second launch window!

Present and future in one picture. As Gemini 11 lifts off from the Cape Kennedy Air Force Station's Launch Complex 19, the first Apollo Saturn V rocket is on Launch Complex 39A at Kennedy Space Centre. This Saturn V is a non-flight Facility Verification Vehicle that is being used for pad fit checks

Although technical issues twice delayed the launch, Gemini 11 finally lifted off exactly on time 12 September (US time): its target vehicle had been launched an hour and 37 minutes earlier. Manoeuvres for Gemini to catch up with the Agena began quickly, and before its first orbit had been completed, Gemini 11 was flying in formation with its target and ready to dock. The actual docking was achieved nine minutes after rendezvous, just one hour and 34 minutes after liftoff. With an achievement like this, it’s amazing to think that the first rendezvous between two orbiting spacecraft occurred only nine months ago! Unlike Gemini 10, the Gemini 11 docking consumed less fuel than expected and both Commander Conrad and Lt. Commander Gordon conducted two docking exercises with the Agena, before a final manoeuvre established the docked spacecraft in a 178 x 188 mile orbit.


After a first orbit rendezvous, Gemini 11 is docked with its Agena. The target vehicle's antenna is seen extending upwards

“Ride ‘em Cowboy”

The first Extra-Vehicular Activity of the mission occurred 24 hours after launch, when Astronaut Gordon left the spacecraft to begin a spacewalk that was scheduled to last about 105 minutes, while he remained tethered to Gemini 11 by a life support umbilical line. After setting up a movie camera and retrieving a micrometeorite experiment, the next task involved fastening a 100-foot tether, stored in the Agena's docking collar, to a docking bar on the Gemini's nose. These would be used for experiments in passive stabilisation and the first creation of artificial gravity in space (see below!)


"Ride 'em cowboy," said Gemini 11 Command Pilot Conrad as Astronaut Dick Gordon rested on the Agena target vehicle. This view was taken over the Atlantic Ocean at approximately 160 miles above Earth

Like previous Gemini EVAs, working in space for an extended period proved more tiring than in the simulations and Gordon became exhausted, overstressing his spacesuit’s life support system. After attaching the tether, he stopped to rest, sitting astride the Agena, like a cowboy riding a bucking bronco. Heavy perspiration inside the suit obscured the astronaut’s vision, virtually blinding his right eye and the faceplate of his helmet became fogged due to heavy breathing. As a result, the EVA was terminated, with Gordon spending just 21 minutes outside the spacecraft. 

Reaching New Heights

On 14 September, more than 40 hours into the mission, the Agena target vehicle’s primary propulsion system was fired for 25 seconds to thrust the docked spacecraft to a maximum altitude of 853 miles, establishing a new manned spaceflight altitude record! The Gemini 11 crew were enthralled by the spectacular view from this unprecedented vantage point. They particularly commented on the blueness of the water and marked curvature of the Earth below them.


Conrad and Gordon reached the maximum altitude of their high orbit over the southern hemisphere. As they looked west over the western half of Australia, Conrad said "We're looking straight down over Australia now. We have the whole southern part of the world out one window. Utterly fantastic."

After two orbits at this record-breaking altitude, completed in 3 hours, 23 minutes, Conrad and Gordon once again used the Agena’s engines to drive the joined spacecraft back down to their original low Earth orbit.

Standing Up in Space

On flight day three, Astronaut Gordon performed the mission’s second EVA, a “stand-up" spacewalk like that conducted on Gemini 10. Positioned in the open hatch, standing on his seat, Gordon spent two hours and eight minutes photographing the Earth, clouds and stars, as part of the range of experiments to be performed during the flight. During this period, Conrad manoeuvred the spacecraft to point Gordon and his camera in whatever direction was required. Unlike his first EVA experience, Gordon found the “stand-up” spacewalk so peaceful that he actually fell asleep!


Astronaut Dick Gordon stands in the open spacecraft hatch during the Gemini 11 mission

Inflight Experiments

The photography that Gordon undertook during his “stand-up” EVA were part of a packed program of 12 scientific experiments planned for Gemini 11. These included photography of the Earth for research in geology, geophysics, geography, oceanography, and related fields, and photography of clouds to study the fine structure of the Earth's weather system. Other experiments focused on astronomy and upper-atmosphere studies, while three experiments had specific military applications. There was a biological experiment looking at whether weightlessness enhances the effects of radiation on human white blood cells and Neurospora crassa fungi. An interesting photographic experiment investigated the regions of the L4 and L5 libration points of the Earth–Moon system. These are zones trailing and ahead of the Moon's orbit that are gravitationally stable. It is theorized that there might be clouds of particulate matter, or even tiny mini-Moons, which it is theorised may be orbiting the Earth in these regions.

Making Artificial Gravity!

After the stand-up EVA, 50 hours into the mission, Gemini 11 commenced a fascinating experiment in creating artificial gravity. Undocking from the Agena target vehicle, the Gemini 11 spacecraft slowly manoeuvred to stretch out the tether that Gordon had connected between them during his first spacewalk, and then allow the two tethered spacecraft to slowly rotate around one another.

The movement of the tethered spacecraft was first erratic, but stabilised after about 20 minutes, so that the rotation rate could then be increased. The astronauts found it challenging to keep the rope tether between the spacecraft tight, but they were able to demonstrate the "passive attitude stabilisation" of two spacecraft connected by a tether.


While tethered to their Agena target vehicle, the Gemini 11 crew manoeuvred their craft to keep the tether taut between the two. By firing their side thrusters to slowly rotate the combined spacecraft, they were able to use centrifugal force to generate about 0.00015 g of artificial gravity

The circular motion at the end of the tether created a slight artificial “gravitational acceleration” within Gemini 11. This is the first time artificial gravity has been demonstrated in space, even though that gravitational force was only 1.5 one-thousandths that of Earth. After about three hours, the rope tether was released, and the spacecraft moved apart.

Final Rendezvous

Although a fuel cell failed after the artificial gravity experiment, the remaining fuel cells were able to satisfactorily cope, and just under five hours before planned re-entry, Gemini 11 made a final “flyby” rendezvous with the Agena. This last rendezvous had not been part of the original flight plan but was made possible because of the fuel efficiency of the earlier rendezvous and docking manoeuvres. The fact that this rendezvous was made without use of the rendezvous radar, which had malfunctioned, is a testament to the skill and training of the Gemini 11 crew.


Gemini 11's Agena target vehicle seen during the "flyby" rendezvous. The tether from the artificial gravity and passive stabilisation experiment can be seen still attached to the vehicle

Coming Home Under Computer Control

Gemini 11’s return to Earth was the first fully automatic splashdown in the history of the US space program. On 15 September, at the end of its 44th orbit, Gemini 11’s retro-rockets were fired and the automatic re-entry was accomplished by computer commands directly to the thrusters. On earlier Gemini missions, the Command Pilot took controls of the re-entry at about 75 miles up, using the spacecraft's offset centre of gravity to generate lift for changes in direction. For Gemini 11, these manoeuvres were accomplished by computer commands. This process proved successful, and the capsule splashed down only 1.5 miles from the planned position in the Atlantic Ocean. A helicopter from the USS Guam picked up Conrad and Dick Gordon, taking the astronauts to the recovery ship.


Command Pilot Conrad climbs from Gemini 11 minutes after its successful computer-controlled splashdown

Heading to a Grand Finale

With Gemini 11, NASA demonstrated that it has has well and truly mastered rendezvous and docking. But the difficulties encountered by Lt Commander Gordon on his first EVA, and the problems that occurred on the spacewalks in previous missions, show that Extra-Vehicular Activity remains a challenge to be conquered. EVA is vital to the success of the Apollo programme, so Gemini 12, the final mission in this programme, will have spacewalking as its primary objective: it will be a grand finale indeed if Gemini 12 can demonstrate that the problems of EVA, like those of rendezvous and docking, have been successfully solved.






[July 24, 1966] Doubling Up (Gemini 10)


by Kaye Dee

A few days ago, Gemini 10 returned from the most ambitious US spaceflight to date. It literally took the Gemini programme to new heights and has firmly cemented the United States’ lead over the Soviet Union in the race to the Moon. Featuring not one, but two orbital rendezvous and two EVAs, Gemini 10 was a complex mission designed to increase NASA’s experience with these two techniques vital to the success of the Apollo lunar programme.

Designed by astronaut John Young’s wife Barbara, the Gemini 10 patch is simple, but highly symbolic. It features the Roman numeral 10 and two stars representing the two rendezvous attempts; Castor and Pollux (the two brightest stars in the constellation Gemini); and the two crew members. A stylized rendezvous is also depicted.

Crew for a Complex Mission

The Command Pilot for Gemini 10 was US Navy Commander John Young (left in the picture below), making his second spaceflight after acting as the Pilot of Gemini 3. Sitting in the right-hand seat as Pilot was US Air Force Major Michael Collins. A member of NASA’s third astronaut group, he is the first astronaut born outside the United States: his father is an Army officer and was stationed in Rome at the time of Collins’ birth.

Critical Timing

Blasting off on July 18, Gemini 10 was the first dual launch of a target vehicle and a manned Gemini flight to occurr exactly as planned. Launch timing was crucial, as Gemini 10 had only a 35-second window if it was going to rendezvous with two Agena targets in different orbits. The launch of the first rendezvous target, Agena 10, could not be delayed by more than 28 minutes, or it would result in a two-day wait until the second Agena already in orbit (originally launched for Gemini 8) would again be in position for the dual rendezvous plan to succeed. Agena 10 lifted off just two seconds late. One hundred minutes later it was followed by Gemini 10, launching exactly on time.

An amazing timelapse photo of Gemini 10's launch, showing the supporting rocker arm tower falling away

First Rendezvous

Despite the perfect launch, the path to Gemini 10’s first rendezvous was not completely smooth. An error made by John Young during the second burn – needed to rendezvous with the Agena about 160 miles above the Earth – required two additional burns to correct. By the time Gemini 10, on its fourth orbit, rendezvoused and docked with Agena 10, 60% of its fuel had been consumed. This placed constraints on the remainder of the mission, leading to the cancellation of several scheduled scientific experiments and additional docking practice.

Fortunately, the docking itself was successful and Mission Control decided to keep Gemini 10 docked to the Agena as long as possible. The target vehicle carried 3,400 pounds of fuel, some of which could be used for attitude control of the docked vehicles.


Docked to the nose of Agena 10, Gemini 10 Pilot Michael Collins took this impressive photograph of the Agena's engine firing as it boosted them to a record altitude

Rocketing to New Heights

Most of that fuel was needed for the second phase of Gemini 10’s mission. About seven and a half hours after launch, an 80 second burn of the Agena engine hurtled Young and Collins to an altitude of 474 miles, the farthest anyone has so far been from the Earth. This new record completely eclipses the previous record of 310 miles set by Voskhod 2 last year.

As the Gemini was docked nose-to-nose with the Agena, Young and Collins were flying ‘backwards’ as the rocket thrust them towards the higher altitude in a wild ride. Despite their unique vantage point, much of the view from the crew’s windows was blocked by the bulk of the Agena in front of them, so Young and Collins took very few photos: instead, they concentrated on their spacecraft’s instruments, especially the radiation dosage. The crew was particularly concerned about the radiation levels at their record-breaking altitude, as the lower edge of the inner Van Allen radiation belt was only about 150 miles above them. Fortunately, their instruments showed that the radiation levels at that altitude posed no danger to human life.


One of the few photos taken by the Gemini 10 crew at their record altitude, showing the curvature of the Earth. The Straits of Gibraltar are visible, with Europe to the left and North Africa to the right

Speaking of radiation, while Gemini 10 was orbiting aloft, France tested another nuclear weapon at Mururoa Atoll in the South Pacific. Although the astronauts were high too high above the blast zone for radiation to be an issue, Young and Collins were warned not to look at its blinding flash as they passed overhead.

When is a Spacewalk not a Spacewalk? When It’s a “Standup EVA”!

The Gemini crew began their second day in space with the news that they had enough fuel to complete the next phase of their mission, the rendezvous with Gemini 8’s Agena target vehicle. Another wild ride, pushed by Agena 10, lowered the Gemini to a new orbit with an apogee of 237 miles. Now the crew began to prepare for the mission’s first EVA, which would not see an astronaut actually leave the spacecraft. 

As an orbital sunset approached, Collins opened his hatch, exposing both astronauts to the space environment to perform a “standup EVA”. Standing in his seat with the upper part of his body outside the spacecraft, for a view unconstrained by its small windows, Collins commenced a photographic study of stellar ultraviolet radiation. He took 22 images of the southern Milky Way, scanning from Beta Crucis to Gamma Velorum (though, unfortunately, few of the images have proved scientifically usable). As Gemini 10 passed from night back to day, Collins also photographed a colour patch on the exterior of the spacecraft, to see if film could accurately reproduce colors in space. This task was cut short, though, when both Collins and Young experienced an eye irritation that caused their eyes to tear, making it difficult to see. As I write this article, the cause of this irritation is still uncertain, although it is thought to be a leak of lithium hydroxide in the environmental system.

Second Rendezvous

Gemini 10’s third day in space was its most complex and hazardous, commencing with the rendezvous with Agena 8. For the final time, Agena 10 fired its engine, to bring the docked spacecraft within 70 miles of Agena 8. At this point Gemini 10 discarded the Agena, which remains in orbit for use as a target by a future Gemini mission. Gemini 10 continued under its own power, for the first time in almost 48 hours, to reach Agena 8.

The former Gemini 8 target, having been in space since March, was essentially dead, without any power. Commander Young completed the critical final stage of rendezvous without the help of bright running lights and target radar, while trying to conserve enough fuel to let Collins take a one-hour spacewalk. He successfully guided the Gemini to within 10 feet of Agena 8, maintaining station close to the target vehicle without docking. This unique rendezvous simulated the rescue of astronauts from a spacecraft that had lost all electrical power.

A “Working” Spacewalk

With enough maneouvring fuel still available, Collins’ second EVA was now Go! Dubbed a “working spacewalk”, this EVA involved activities around the exterior of Gemini 10 and a traverse across to Agena 8. Like Gene Cernan on Gemini 9, Major Collins experienced difficulties in conducting his EVA tasks, demonstrating the need for more hand- and footholds on the exterior of future space vehicles. Nevertheless, he retrieved a micrometeorite collector from the exterior of the Gemini, containing experiments from Britain, Israel and West Germany. Unfortunately, this collector was later lost in space, apparently floating out of the spacecraft before the final hatch closing. 

Another micrometeorite collector was located on Agena 8. After one failed attempt to retrieve it, Collins used an experimental nitrogen-propelled “jet gun”, the Hand-Held Maneuvering Unit, to propel himself back to the Agena. This time he successfully retrieved the micrometeorite experiment, which is of particular scientific interest because of its long duration in orbit. There are no photos of the spacewalk available, but these training images give some idea of the complexity of the operations. However, low propellant quantity curtailed the spacewalk after only 39 minutes, instead of the originally planned hour. The crew experienced some difficulty in closing the hatch, due to the snake-like 50-foot umbilical used for Collins’ spacewalk and it was later jettisoned, along with the chestpack used by Collins and some other equipment an hour later. 

Return to Earth

About 63 hours into the flight, Young and Collins awoke to homecoming day, completing some final experiments, mostly involving photography of the Earth. Then, 70 hours and 10 minutes after liftoff, re-entry commenced and Young steered Gemini 10 to a pinpoint landing in the Atlantic only three and a half miles from the aiming point. The crew of the prime recovery vessel, the USS Guadalcanal, watched the spacecraft hit the water, as did millions of television viewers via the Early Bird satellite (though not us here in Australia, as we do not yet have access to satellite communications: it’s coming soon, though!).


For the first time the children of the recovery ship crew were allowed to be aboard to watch the splashdown and recovery. Here they join the party celebrating Gemini 10's safe return from a record-setting mission

Gemini 10 was certainly a mission for the record books: I can’t wait to see what further developments Gemini 11 will bring in just a couple of months’ time.






[June 8, 1966] Pyrrhic Victory (the flight of Gemini 9)


by Gideon Marcus

Keeping Score

It is remarkable to think how different the Space Race was just a little over a year ago.  Mercury was long past.  The Soviets had just stunned the world with two Voskhod flights.  One of them had carried three cosmonauts in space.  The other was the base for the first spacewalk.  We all waited with bated breath for Voskhod 3, sure it would leave American space efforts in the dust.

But it never happened.

The week after Voskhod 2, Gemini 3 went up.  A modest flight, barely a repeat of Glenn's mission, but with two people.  In June, Gemini 4 featured America's first spacewalk.  August's Gemini 5 mission lasted an unprecedented eight days.  December saw two Gemini (6 and 7) perform the first controlled space rendesvous.  And in March of this year, Gemini 8 accomplished the first docking in orbit.

Where are the Russians?  Indeed, the greatest threat to American space supremacy in the latest mission of Gemini 9, just concluded two days ago, was Mr. Murphy and his old back of tricks.

Prince of the Pad

Scheduled for May 17, 1966, Gemini 9 was supposed to be the first real all-up test of the two-seat spacecraft.  Astronauts Tom Stafford (veteran of Gemini 6) and Gene Cernan would dock with an Agena and conduct a spacewalk.  If successful, this would demonstrate all of the techniques and training necessary for a trip to the Moon. 

The first bit of bad luck involved the Agena docking adapter.  Shortly after liftoff on the 17th, one of the booster engines gimballed off center and propelled rocket and Agena into the Atlantic ocean.  The two astronauts, bolted into their Gemini capsule for a launch intended for just a few minutes after, had to abort their mission.

Luckily, NASA had a back-up: the Augmented Target Docking Adapter (ADTA).  The ADTA was basically an Agena without the engine.  A Gemini could practice docking with it, but the ADTA can't be used as an orbital booster for practice of the manuever that Apollo will employ when it breaks orbit to head for the Moon.

ADTA went up on June 1, no problem.  But just seconds before launch, the Gemini 9 computer refused navigational updates from the Cape.  The launch window was missed, and once again, Tom and Gene were forced to scrub.  Stafford got the nickname "Prince of the Pad."

On June 3, however, Gemini 9 had a picture-perfect liftoff, which we caught on TV, tuned into CBS for Walter Cronkite's smooth coverage.  Just a couple of hours later, Stafford had skillfully maneuvered his Gemini into docking range of the ADTA.

Angry Alligators and Foggy Visors

Unfortunately, ADTA was a mess.  The payload fairing that protected the adapter during launch had failed to come off.  It covered the front of the thing, half open, looking for all the world like, as Stafford described it, an "Angry Alligator."  Gemini 9 kept station with the adapter for a bit, but it was clear that a docking was impossible.  Eventually, the spacecraft left the ADTA behind.  There was other work to do.

Because on June 5, Gene Cernan suited up and left his cramped co-pilot seat for the longest spacewalk in American history.  This was to be a true working spacewalk, not just a sightseeing tour.  Connected to the Gemini by a long strap of nylon, Cernan clambered to the nose of the spacecraft to retrieve a micrometeorite experiment.  Then, agonizingly slowly, he made his way to the rear of the spacecraft.  It was proving much harder to operate in zero gee than expected.  That was okay; stowed in Gemini's rear was the Astronaut Maneuvering Unit (AMU).  With the AMU, theoretically, Cernan would become his own miniature spaceship, able to flit around as if on angel's wings.

Mr. Murphy would have none of it.  Struggle as Cernan might, he couldn't detach the AMU for use.  After endless struggling, during which Cernan's visor completely fogged up and his heart rate soared above a hundred beats per minute, Stafford ordered his crewmate back inside half an hour earlier than scheduled. 

Those of us who watched the TV coverage beheld things about as dimly as poor Cernan.  The transmissions from Gemini were garbled into unintelligibility, and as there was no live footage possible of the actual spacewalk, CBS had rigged up a stage setup involving a Gemini model, a rotating Earth background, and a poor fellow on wires in a spacesuit floating around.  ABC had a similar "simulation."  It was…less than convincing.

Happy Endings

The last day of the flight was uneventful.  Gemini 9 had completed, if unsatisfactorily, its scheduled activities.  I can imagine poor Tom and Gene were probably a bit glum at the lackluster record of the mission, though Stafford could take pride in being the first astronaut to fly two missions in the same spacecraft — and in the space of just seven months, to boot.

There was one bright spot in the mission, however.  After a perfect retro-fire almost exactly three days after launch, Gemini 9 came down in the Atlantic closer to its carrier recovery fleet than any previous mission.  So close did it splashdown to the U.S.S. Wasp that, for the first time, the carrier crew caught sight of the landing.

As did we at home.  Broadcast live via Early Bird satellite, we saw the beautiful spray of water followed by the graceful collapse of the parachute.  Within half an hour, the spacecraft and crew had been hoisted aboard the Wasp.  Less than four hours later, the two astronauts were already on their way back to Cape Kennedy for debriefing.  Spaceflight has become an efficient routine.

Which, if anything, marks the understated triumph of Gemini 9.  It's true that things did not go as planned during the flight.  Not in flashy, potentially deadly ways as in Armstrong's whirling flight in March, but frustratingly nonetheless.  But on the other hand, we've now had seven two-man flights in quick succession, with three more planned before the end of the year.  Compare this record to the six Mercury flights spread out over two years, the longest of which lasted barely more than a day.  America can afford less-than-perfect missions; if anything goes wrong, we can make it up in a few months.

This marks a threshold of maturity for American spaceflight.  Whereas the Soviets managed to secure an early lead in the Space Race with a series of spectaculars, like the tortoise and the hare, slow and steady will win ultimately win the competition for the United States. 

It may make for boring television, but that's a small price to pay for victory!






[March 18, 1966] Taking Gemini for a Spin (Gemini 8)


by Kaye Dee

As the race for the Moon heats up, the Gemini program is moving forward at a cracking pace –three months ago, Gemini VII completed its record breaking long-duration mission and NASA’s latest manned space mission, Gemini VIII launched just two days ago on March 16 (US time). By co-incidence, this was right on the 40th anniversary of the first successful launch of a liquid-fuelled rocket by American physicist Dr. Robert Goddard.


Goddard and his first liquid fuel rocket, launched forty years to the day before Gemini VIII. Developing a liquid-fuelled rocket was the necessary first step to making spaceflight a reality

But are things moving too fast? This latest Gemini flight was one of NASA’s most ambitious to date, slated for a 3-day mission to carry out the first rendezvous and docking and the United States’ second spacewalk. However, it was prematurely cut short after about 10 and a half hours, due to an in-flight emergency.

What was Supposed to Happen

Gemini VIII was intended to carry out the four rendezvous and docking manoeuvres originally planned for Gemini VI (the goals of that mission had to be changed due to the loss of its Agena target vehicle and instead it rendezvoused with Gemini VII). Being able to rendezvous and dock two spacecraft is a technique that is vitally important for the success of the Apollo programme, so NASA needs to be sure that it can reliably carry out these manoeuvres.


Gemini VIII approaches its Agena target vehicle in preparation for docking, practicing one of the crucial technologies of the Apollo programme

NASA also needs to gain more experience with extra-vehicular activity (EVA), or spacewalking, which is another crucial technique needed for Apollo. So far, the Gemini programme’s only EVA has been the one carried out by Ed White during the Gemini IV mission in June last year. Astronaut David Scott was scheduled to perform an ambitious spacewalk of over two hours, operating at the end of a 25-foot tether. He was supposed to retrieve a radiation experiment from the front of the Gemini's spacecraft adapter and activate a micrometeoroid experiment on the Agena target vehicle. Then it was planned to test a space power tool by loosening and tightening bolts on a work panel attached to the Gemini.

The most exciting part of the spacewalk would have taken place after Mission Commander Neil Armstrong undocked from the Agena for the first time. Major Scott would have tested an Extravehicular Support Pack (ESP), which contained its own oxygen supply and propellant for his Hand-Held Manoeuvring Unit. A 75-foot extension to his tether would have enabled Scott to carry out several manoeuvres in conjunction with the Gemini and Agena vehicles, while separated from them at distances up to 60 feet.

Very Experienced Rookies


Neil Armstrong (front) and David Scott departing the suit up trailer on their way to the launch pad. Behind Scott is Chief Astronaut Alan Shepard, the first American in space.

Gemini VIII’s crew are both first-time astronauts, but they have a wealth of flight experience between them. Mission Commander Neil Armstrong is the first American civilian in space, and a highly experienced test pilot. Before being selected for NASA’s second group of astronauts, Mr. Armstrong was a Naval aviator during the Korean conflict and then an experimental test pilot with NASA’s predecessor the National Advisory Committee for Aeronautics, which he joined in 1955. He developed a reputation as an excellent engineer, a cool-headed clear-thinker, and an outstanding test pilot with nerves of steel, all of which helped him survive a number of dangerous flight-test incidents. Included in his experience are seven flights aboard the X-15 hypersonic research aircraft.

Gemini VIII Pilot David Scott is a major in the US Air Force, and the first member of the third astronaut group to make a spaceflight. Scott saw active duty in Europe before gaining both a Master of Science degree in Aeronautics/Astronautics and the degree of Engineer in Aeronautics/Astronautics from MIT in 1962. He joined the US Air Force Test Pilot School at Edwards Air Force Base in 1962 and was selected as an astronaut in October 1963. 

A Spectrum of Objectives


Gemini VIII's mission patch. Look closely at the spectrum to see the text.

Now that mission patches seem to have become a standard part of each Gemini flight (after being introduced by the Gemini V crew), Armstrong and Scott designed their mission patch to feature a colour spectrum, which is shown as being produced by the light of two stars – Castor and Pollux, the two brightest stars in the constellation of Gemini – refracted through a prism. The spectrum symbolises “the whole spectrum of objectives” that they planned to accomplish on Gemini VIII, which included various science and technology experiments in addition to the docking and spacewalking activities. Looking closely at the spectrum, you can see that its lines have been drawn to represent the astronomical symbol for the constellation Gemini, as well as the Roman numeral VIII.

Things Go to Plan

The original Gemini VIII plan was for a three-day mission and at first everything seemed to be going perfectly. One hundred minutes before Gemini VIII, an Atlas rocket lifted off from Launch Pad 14 at the Cape carrying the Agena target vehicle. Unlike Gemini VI, this time the launch was successful, placing the Agena into a 161 nautical-mile circular orbit. Once it was certain that the Agena was safely in orbit, Gemini VIII lifted off from the nearby Pad 19: its launch, too, went without any problems.


A composite image combining the lift-off of the Atlas Agena and Gemini VIII

After an orbital “chase” of more than three and a half hours, Armstrong and Scott had their target in sight: they could visually spot it when they were about 76 nautical miles away. Then, at 55 nautical miles, the computer completed the rendezvous automatically.

Before docking with the Agena, the astronauts spent 35 minutes visually inspecting it, to ensure that it had suffered no damage from the launch. Then Armstrong started to move towards the Agena at 3.15 inches per second. In a matter of minutes, the Agena’s docking latches clicked: the first docking by a manned spacecraft had been successfully completed! Mission Commander Armstrong described the docking as “a real smoothie” and said that the Agena felt quite stable during the manoeuvre. NASA has now proved that it can achieve a critical technique needed for the Apollo Moon landings.

Things Don’t Go to Plan

The docking may have been a smoothie: however, what followed was anything but! Mission Control seems to have had some suspicions that the Agena's attitude control system could malfunction (my friends at Woomera say there was a possibility that the Agena’s onboard computer might not have the correct program stored in it), because the crew were reminded of the code to turn off the Agena’s computer and advised to abort the docking straight away if there were any problems with the target vehicle.


A close-up view as Gemini VIII approaches its Agena target vehicle.

As Gemini VIII lost radio contact with Houston (in a part of its orbit where it was out of range of any of the tracking stations on the ground), the Agena began to execute one of its stored test programs, to turn the two docked spacecraft. That’s when the emergency began! While the full details of the emergency are not yet known, it seems that the Agena started to roll uncontrollably, causing the docked spacecraft to gyrate wildly, making a full rotation every 10 seconds. The situation seems to have been pretty desperate, to judge from some communications picked up by monitors at the Radio Research Institute of the Japanese Postal Services.

Armstrong has reported that he used the Gemini capsule’s orbital attitude and manoeuvring system (OAMS) thrusters to stop the tumbling, but the roll immediately began again. As he struggled to control the rotating vehicles Armstrong noticed that the OAMS fuel dropped quickly, hinting that perhaps the problem was with the Gemini, rather than the Agena.


Diagram showing the location of the OAMS thrusters and the Re-entry Control System thrusters (incorrectly identified as "Reaction Control System")

Then They Get Worse!

Armstrong and Scott decided to undock from the Agena, apparently concerned that the high spin-rate might damage the spacecraft or possibly cause the Agena, still loaded with propellant, to rupture or explode. It turns out, though, that the Agena’s mass must have been actually damping the rotation, because as soon as Gemini VIII undocked it began to tumble even more rapidly, making almost a full end over end rotation per second! The issue was definitely with the spacecraft, and it was an extremely dangerous one. At that rate of spin, the astronauts’ vision became blurred and they have said they were in danger of blacking out!


CapCom Jim Lovell (left) and astronaut Bill Anders following reports from Gemini VIII during the crisis

It was only at this point that Gemini VIII came back into contact with Mission Control, via the tracking ship USNS Coastal Sentry Quebec, stationed southwest of Japan. Armstrong sure is a quick thinker, though. He disengaged the OAMS system and used the re-entry control system (RCS) to finally halt the spin and regain control of Gemini VIII. However, doing this used up almost 75% of the re-entry manoeuvring fuel.

Emergency Abort!

Gemini mission rules dictate that a flight has to be aborted once the RCS is activated for any reason. With so much of the RCS fuel already consumed, and with no guarantee that the tumbling might not occur again, Flight Director John Hodge (on his first mission as Chief Flight Director, too!), quickly decided to abort the mission and bring Gemini VIII back to Earth.

Hodge decided to bring Gemini VIII home after one more orbit, so that secondary recovery forces in the Pacific could be in place. Re-entry occurred over China, out of range of NASA tracking stations, but US Air Force planes spotted the spacecraft as it descended towards its landing site about 430 nautical miles east of Okinawa. Three para-rescuers were dropped to attach a flotation collar to the capsule and stay with the astronauts until the recovery ship arrived. 


Armstrong, Scott and their para-rescuers waiting for the arrival of the recovery ship

Initial reports are that, though exhausted, the crew were in good health when they landed, and they opened the Gemini hatches, ate some lunch, and relaxed in the sun with the para-rescuers while waiting for the recovery ship Leonard F Mason to arrive. Maybe the lunch wasn’t such a good idea, as I’ve heard that the crew and their rescuers were all a bit seasick by the time the ship reached them three hours later.

NASA officials met with the Gemini VIII crew in Japan for a preliminary debriefing, and Armstrong and Scott, together with Gemini VIII are now on their way back to the US. Hopefully, an accident investigation will soon reveal exactly what went wrong and why, causing NASA’s first in-flight emergency. But what we already know is that Armstrong and Scott behaved with cool competence in an extremely stressful and dangerous situation and NASA’s emergency procedures enabled the astronauts to be brought home quickly and safely. Everyone involved should be congratulated for demonstrating that even a crisis can be an important stepping-stone on the road to the Moon! 


Safe and sound aboard the U.S.S. Leonard F. Mason






[December 20, 1965] Rendezvous in space (Gemini 6 and 7)


by Gideon Marcus

Ahead by a nosecone

If there was any doubt as to America's position in the Space Race, such has been dispelled this month with the amazing double mission of Geminis 6 and 7.  In a single fortnight, a slew of new records has been made, leaving those of the Soviets, and those made by prior Gemini flights, in the dust.

It all started way back on October 25.  The United States already had three successful two-person flights under its belt, having tested the new Gemini spacecraft with Gemini 3, experimented with spacewalking on Gemini 4, and set a space endurance record with Gemini 5.

Gemini 6, commanded by Mercury veteran Wally Schirra, would be the first test of the Agena docking adapter — an upper rocket stage remodeled to fit the nose of a Gemini so that the spacecraft could be boosted to high orbit.

Sadly for Schirra, the Agena, launched just minutes before Gemini 6's blast off time, failed to make orbit.  The whole mission had to be scrubbed.

But a super-endurance flight was already in the works for December: a fourteen day slog planned for Group 2 NASA astronauts Jim Lovell and Frank Borman.  Seeing how they'd just be spending two weeks jawing and sleeping, why not combine the missions of Gemini 6 and 7?  While they wouldn't be able to dock, they would be able to test their orbit maneuvering engines and rendezvous techniques by getting within 20 feet of each other.  Plus, it would mean four Americans in space, which would beat the Soviet record by 33%.

So it was that Gemini 7 blasted off in the afternoon of December 4 with the sweet anticipation of being joined just in space eight days later by Gemini 6A.

The long wait

Of course, Gemini 7 still had to log as many hours just in the first part of the mission than Gemini 5's astronauts did during their whole excursion.  That meant a lot of endless hours.  To be sure, NASA tried to occupy them by taking pictures of the Earth as they orbited, and halfway through the trip, there was a visual acuity test in which astronauts tried to pick out specially made targets on the ground.

There was also an interesting experiment in which Gemini astronauts beamed a hand laser out the window of the spacecraft, bouncing it off mirror-sided Explorer 22.  This was a communications test; laser beams cannot be intercepted and are not limited by line-of-sight with the ground.  Unfortunately, although the receiving station was able to see the beam, it got no useful messages from it.

Other than that, Gemini 7's crew was mostly bored and uncomfortable.  They argued with NASA for several days before they were allowed to both keep their suits off.  Jim Lovell wished he'd brought a book along.  Things got very whiffie, and when, after week, they just couldn't delay certain bodily functions anymore, the cabin's atmosphere took a turn for the worse.

T for two

On December 12, after an early morning breakfast of steak and eggs, Schirra and his rookie companion, Tom Stafford, buckled into Gemini 6A.  This would be the day they made space history by becoming the third and fourth simultaneous men in space.

It was not meant to be.  At T-0, the familiar plume of smoke erupted from Gemini 6's Titan II rocket, but even before the unique groan of blast-off could reach the launch block house, the engine had already shut down.  Schirra now had a microsecond to react — if the booster had left the pad at all, it would come back down, collapsing in on itself in a conflagration.  But the experienced test pilot was certain the rocket hadn't moved, and he did not punch the ejector button.  As a result, the mission was just delayed, rather than scrubbed.

Just four days later, the third time proved to be the charm as Gemini 6 made a perfect ascent into orbit and immediately began closing in on Gemini 7.  Within just five hours, Schirra had maneuvered his spacecraft to within 100 feet, and he continued his approach.  When all was said and done, both spacecraft were just one foot away from each other.  Compare that to the dual flights of Vostoks 3 and 4, and later 5 and 6: while those spacecraft had gotten fairly close to one another, that was the result of accurate launching rather than onboard maneuvering.  Indeed, the moment of rendezvous was the first time since Alan Shepard's 1961 launch in Freedom 7 that the entire flight crew at Mission Control was standing at their consoles.


Getting it on film

If the rest of the flights of Geminis 6 and 7 were anticlimactic for their crews, they were anything but for the anchors at CBS and NBC…or the folks on the ground glued to their boob tubes.  Schirra and Stafford reentered just one day after taking off, splashing down in the Atlantic near the aircraft carrier U.S.S. Wasp.  And we were there, remotely.  For the first time, live cameras aboard the recovery fleet caught the action: the sight of the Gemini capsule bobbing on the placid ocean, the helicopters keeping careful watch, the divers bringing the spacecraft and its astronauts aboard ship to be feted by the thousands of crew members. 

We actually got many hours of special coverage for these flights, although we had to get up very early for the splashdowns.  They were mostly in color, too.  I particularly liked watching CBS reporter Mike Wallace playing with the IBM computer, which was programmed for orbital mechanics calculations.  And at every juncture, there were folks playing in the Gemini simulator to give us an idea what the astronauts were doing.

Who would have thought that as humanity took its first steps into space, we would be able to look over their shoulders every step of the way?  All that's left is incorporating "instant replay" somehow!

What's next?

We are already halfway through the Gemini program.  A total of twelve flights are planned, and seven have flown.  These next flights will all take place in 1966, the first scheduled for March, which means we will have a crowded viewing schedule next year!  It's got to be a fast schedule, though; the first Apollo will go up in early 1967.  Next year's missions will focus on docking, extended spacewalks, and large scale orbital maneuvers — all skills we'll need for our trips to the Moon.

You can bet I'll keep tuning in to Cronkite!



The holidays are coming!  Looking for the perfect gift for a niece, nephew, or other young relative?  Kitra is the hopeful, found family novel that they've been waiting for.  Buy a copy for them today…and perhaps one for yourself!




[August 30, 1965] 8 Days or Bust! (Gemini 5's epic space mission)


by Kaye Dee

Mr. Barry McGuire should have waited another month to record his hit song Eve of Destruction. Why? Because then his telling line “You may leave Earth for four days in space, but when you return it’s the same old place” could have been made an even punchier by updating it with the latest space flight record of eight days, set by the crew of Gemini 5.


The Gemini 5 crew, Charles "Pete" Conrad (left) and mission commander Gordon "Gordo" Cooper (right), ready to set a new space endurance record

One for the Record Books

The safe return of the Gemini 5 crew yesterday, at the end of a mission dogged by technical problems, not only captured the record for the longest spaceflight to date, it has catapulted the United States into the lead ahead of the Soviet Union for the first time in the Space Race! From the outset, NASA planned for this mission to last eight days, to demonstrate that astronauts could live and work in space for the duration of an Apollo mission to the Moon and back. That this flight time beat the Soviet record of just under five days set by cosmonaut Valery Bykovsky in Vostok 5 in 1963, is a welcome added bonus. Other objectives of the mission included: demonstrating the guidance and control systems; evaluating the new fuel cell system and rendezvous radar; and testing the ability of the astronauts to manoeuvre close to another object.

A Mission Patch: the Start of a New Tradition?

For this crucial mission, NASA paired veteran Mercury astronaut Gordon Cooper, who flew America’s last and longest Mercury mission, with rookie Charles “Pete” Conrad, a member of the second group of astronauts selected in 1962. Because astronauts have been prohibited from naming their spacecraft (following NASA’s displeasure with the name Gus Grissom selected for Gemini 3), Cooper wanted to wear a mission insignia that would symbolise the purpose of their flight. He and Conrad designed a “mission patch”, along the lines of those worn by military units, showing a Conestoga wagon, the type of vehicle used by many of the pioneering families heading into the American West.


The Gemini 5 mission patch as Cooper and Conrad originally designed it, with its pioneer inspired motto (left), alongside the NASA-modified flight version on the right.

On their original design, the wagon carried a motto that was also derived from pioneering times: “8 Days or Bust”. But according to a rumour I’ve heard from my former WRE colleagues, NASA felt that this might leave the agency open to ridicule if the mission didn’t last that long. Because of this, the embroidered patches that Cooper and Conrad wore on their spacesuits during the flight had the ambitious slogan covered by a piece of cloth. But I like the idea of each mission having its own symbolic insignia, so I hope that mission patches become a tradition for future spaceflights.

Launching into History

Gemini 5 was originally supposed to launch on 19 August, but problems with the telemetry programmer and deteriorating weather delayed the lift-off until 21 August. Like previous Gemini missions, Cooper and Conrad lifted off from Launch Complex 39 at the Cape Kennedy Air Force Station. I understand that NASA will continue to use it for the rest of the Gemini programme while its new John F. Kennedy Space Centre is being constructed nearby for the Apollo missions.

During the launch, the astronauts experienced a type of vibration known as “pogo” (as in pogo stick!) which seems to have momentarily impaired their speech and vision. This will need to be further investigated to determine if it poses a threat to crew health and safety on future flights. After the launch, part of the Titan II launch vehicle's first stage was found floating on the surface of the Atlantic Ocean and retrieved; I expect it will go on display in a museum after it has been thoroughly studied.


Recovering the upper half of the Titan II launch vehicle first stage from the Atlantic Ocean

Dr. Rendezvous to the Rescue!

Just over 2 hours after launch, the Rendezvous Evaluation Pod (REP, nicknamed Little Rascal, I’m told) was ejected into orbit from Gemini 5. The crew were supposed to practice rendezvous techniques with this mini satellite. However, about 4 hours into the flight, very low oxygen pressure in one of the spacecraft’s fuel cells that provide onboard power led to a decision to shut both fuel cells down. Gemini 5 is the first mission to use this new method of generating onboard power, but without the fuel cells, the spacecraft has only a limited battery power reserve. As a result, Gemini 5 was powered down, drifting along in "chimp mode," without active control by the crew. It looked for a while as if the mission might be “2 days and bust”, but ground tests showed that the faulty fuel cell should work even with low oxygen pressure and both fuel cells were gradually put back into operation, enabling the mission to continue.


An artist's impression of the Gemini 5 Rendezvous Evaluation Pod, as the mission should have unfolded. Unfortunately, the battery on its flashing beacon, which helped the astronauts to see it against the blackness of space, died before the fuel cell issues were resolved.

The fuel cell failure meant that the REP experiment, and others, had to be scrapped. However, astronaut Edwin “Buzz” Aldrin devised a rendezvous simulation to test the Gemini 5 crew, which would require them to rendezvous with a specific point in space. The other astronauts don’t call Aldrin “Dr. Rendezvous” for nothing: he has a doctorate in Astronautics, specialising in orbital mechanics, from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology! The “phantom rendezvous” test took place on the third day of the mission. Cooper and Conrad proved that precision manoeuvres could be successfully accomplished, carrying out four different rendezvous manoeuvres using the Gemini’s Orbit Attitude and Manoeuvring System (OAMS).

On August 24 Cooper reached a cumulative total of 98 hours in space, over his two flights, taking the record for the longest time spent in space by an American astronaut. By the end of the mission he was the world record holder for time spent in space, leaving Bykovsky’s endurance record well behind!

Fuel Cells for Survival


A diagram showing the fuel cells installed on Gemini 5. Despite their problems on this mission, NASA expects to use fuel cells to provide electrical power and water on future space flights.

Another fuel cell problem surfaced on day four of the mission, but this was relatively minor, which was fortunate as the fuel cells not only produce electrical power for the Gemini spacecraft, but also provide the water supply for the crew. Like a battery, a fuel cell uses a chemical reaction to create an electric current. The Gemini fuel cell uses liquid oxygen and liquid hydrogen to generate electricity, which creates water as a by-product. Cooper and Conrad reported that the water had a lot of gas bubbles in it (with a predictable intestinal result!) and that it also had a taste they didn’t like. However, it was drinkable when mixed with Tang powdered orange drink, so I think that this will become a staple on future missions (a good advertising opportunity there!).

A plentiful supply of water also means that NASA will be able to provide the astronauts with more rehydratable foods from now on, although the Gemini 5 crew apparently did not have much of an appetite during the mission, only consuming about 1000 calories a day, instead of the planned 2700 calories.


Thanks to fuel cell-produced water, future NASA missions will have more rehydratable foods available. This sample Gemini meal includes a beef sandwich, strawberry cereal cubes, peaches, and beef and gravy. Astronauts use the water gun to reconstitute the food and scissors to open the packages

More Problems to Endure

The fifth day of the mission saw a major problem develop when one set of OAMS thrusters began to malfunction. This meant that all experiments where the thrusters needed to be used were cancelled. One cancellation was a great disappointment for us here in Australia. The Visual Acuity Test was designed to gauge the acuity of an astronaut’s vision from space, by observing patterns laid out on the ground.

Two test sites were prepared for this Gemini 5 experiment: one at Laredo, Texas and the other on Woodleigh sheep station (ranch), located about 90 miles south of Carnarvon, Western Australia. Carnarvon is the site of NASA’s largest tracking station outside the United States, combining both a Manned Space Flight Network facility and a Space Tracking and Data Acquisition Network station. At Woodleigh, piles of white sea-shells were bulldozed into carefully chosen patterns to determine the smallest pattern the astronauts could discern through the window of their spacecraft.


The Visual Acuity Test patterns at Woodleigh station seen from the air. Though they were composed of very white shells from a nearby beach, I think they might have been difficult to spot from space even under ideal conditions.

However, when this experiment should have been performed on 26 August, Gemini 5 was again drifting along powered down, due to the fuel cell and OAMS problems and could not maintain a stable view of the ground. The astronauts could see the smoke markers identifying the Woodleigh site but not the experimental patterns themselves due to the spacecraft's attitude. Attempts to view the site on later orbits were, unfortunately, no more successful, although the crew could see the lights of Carnarvon and Perth on night-time orbits.

During this powered-down period, Cooper and Conrad became quite cold and experienced feelings of disorientation caused by stars drifting past the windows as their capsule slowly rotated. Eventually, Cooper put covers on the windows to shut out the sight. Not only did they have difficulty sleeping, the crew also had to contend with persistent dandruff, apparently due to the low cabin humidity. The dry, flaky skin they shed settled everywhere, making for an unpleasant cabin environment. Even the instrument panels became partially obscured by dandruff!


No wonder the Gemini 5 crew found it difficult to sleep, when they were crowded together in a space about the same size as the front seat of a VW Beetle! Sleeping in alternate shifts was was not successful, but even sleeping at the same time did not make for a restful "night".

Although the mission’s technical problems caused some experiments to be cancelled, many others were still successfully carried out, including medical and photographic experiments. Among the crew's space science pictures were the first photographs of the zodiacal light and the gegenschein taken from orbit. Photographs of the Earth taken from space are also expected to produce detailed images that will have scientific, military and intelligence value once the films taken in flight are processed. I'm really looking forward to seeing them.

100 Orbits

On 28 August, Gemini 5 became the first manned spacecraft to complete 100 orbits of the Earth. In recognition of the achievement, Mission Control in Houston relayed 15 minutes of Dixieland music to the two astronauts, making Capcom Jim McDivitt the first space disc jockey! Because of the cancellation of experiments during the mission, Conrad had previously said he wished he had brought a book to read, or some music to listen to, and both Cooper and Conrad had expressed a preference for Dixieland music. Later that day, the Capcom at Houston also read up to the crew a little poem that Conrad’s wife, Jane, had written.

From Space to Shining Sea

A few hours before Gemini 5 returned to Earth yesterday, Gordon Cooper made a very special long-distance call – to fellow Mercury astronaut Scott Carpenter, who is living and working aboard the US Navy’s Sealab II facility, 205 feet beneath the surface of the Pacific Ocean near La Jolla, California. This radio call was apparently made to test the effectiveness of an undersea electronics lab installed on Sealab II, but it was also a nice piece of publicity for NASA and the Navy.


Mercury astronaut turned aquanaut Scott Carpenter, inside Sealab II, talks to Gordon Cooper aboard Gemini 5. Don't ask me how I got this photo!

Eight Days Without Busting!

Finally, on 29 August, at 190 hours, 27 minutes, and 43 seconds into the mission, retrofire commenced and Gemini 5 was on its way home. To demonstrate the level of control provided by the Gemini spacecraft design, the astronauts controlled their re-entry, rotating the capsule to create drag and lift. Unfortunately, due to an error by a computer programmer, Gemini 5 splashed down in the Atlantic Ocean 80 miles short of its target landing site, but the crew were quickly located and retrieved. Gemini 5 ended just a few hours short of the planned eight days, but the epic mission had come to a successful conclusion and lived up to its motto – it was most definitely not a bust!


Safely home! The crew of Gemini 5 look tired, but elated, after what what Conrad has described as "“eight days in a garbage can”. Notice those "censored" mission patches, whose motto was right after all!






[June 8, 1965] A Walk in the Sun (the flight of Gemini 4)


by Gideon Marcus

Coming of Age

The second age of American human spaceflight has begun.  Until this month, the US' steps into space have been tentative.  The longest Mercury flight lasted just one day, and at that, stretched its capabilities to the limit.  The first crewed Gemini, launched in March, completed just three orbits — the same duration as Glenn and Carpenter's Mercury flights.  In the last five years, the Soviets, on the other hand, hit the day-long mark in 1961 with Titov's Vostok 2 mission, and since then have launched two dual Vostok flights, a three-man Voskhod mission, and in March, conducted the first walk in space during the two-man Voskhod 2.  The current "winner" of the Space Race was evident.

But on June 3, 1965, Gemini 4 launched into orbit, and everything is different now.

Dress Rehearsal for Moon Trips

Gemini is America's first real spacecraft.  Unlike Mercury, which could do little more than spin on its axis and carry a human in space for 24 hours, Gemini has the ability to maneuver.  It can rendezvous with other craft in orbit, change orbits to a degree, can stay in space for up to two weeks, and it seats two.  Because of this last, an astronaut can be deployed for extravehicular activity.  All of these capabilities are vital prerequisites for any Moon-bound craft, and the lessons learned in operating Gemini are directly applicable to Apollo, the three-seat spacecraft destined to reach Earth's celestial companion.

This fourth Gemini mission, the second to be crewed, was the first to really put the spacecraft through its paces.  And boy did it ever.  There's a reason the flight dominated the news before, during, and after the event.

Into the Wild Black Yonder

At around 8:00 PM Pacific Time (as all times shall be rendered; pardon my San Diego bias) on June 2, ground crews began fueling the repurposed Titan II ICBM that would carry the Gemini 4 capsule.  Note that the ship did not and still does not have a name.  This is a first, and I think it a rather sad state of affairs.

At 1:10 AM the following morning, Majors James McDivitt and Ed White, command pilot and co-pilot respectively, were awoken; whereupon they feasted on the "low residue" breakfast that has become traditional: steak and eggs.

By 5:20 AM, they were suited up and installed in their craft, take-off scheduled for 7 AM.  But the red rocket erector would not come down, and for more than an hour, the astronauts waited.  Would the flight be scrubbed?

Luckily, a reset of the structure freed things up, and at 7:40 AM, the Titan was clear, ready for launch.  And launch it did at 8:16 AM, guided for the first time from the brand new Mission Control in Houston, Texas.  The complex had been staffed for the previous two Gemini missions, but this was the first time control was formally transferred from Cape Com in Florida.

Once in orbit, the Gemini astronauts wasted no time.  By the time the spacecraft had twice circled the Earth, astronaut White was already planning his jaunt into history.  As Gemini 4 whizzed over North America, the co-pilot opened his hatch and stepped out into the vacuum of space.  For a good twenty minutes, as the blue of the Earth slowly unfolded beneath him, Ed White was the first American human satellite. 

Only a tether and a rather Buck Rogers-looking nitrogen gun for maneuvering kept him in the proximity of his mothership.  And like a recalcitrant child, White did not want to come back inside when called.  "This is the saddest moment of my life," he lamented.  But return he did, and safely.

Much to the relief of the astronauts' wives, coincidentally both named Patricia.

Anticlimax

What do you do to top that?  Well, while the rest of the flight might not have matched the drama of the main event, the remaining four days of the mission nevertheless were important, too.  Not just for what was accomplished, but for what failed to be mastered.

For instance, Gemini 4 was supposed to get some rendezvous practice in, using the spent second-stage of the Titan as a target.  Try as he might, McDivitt could not accomplish the task.  Future pilots will be aided by radar; orbital mechanics are tricky!

Also, on the second and third days of the mission, McDivitt reported spotting and snapping shots of two satellites, one of which was just 10 miles away and had "big arms sticking out of it."  However, the developed pictures do not show these mysterious craft.

On the other hand, the Gemini crew did take amazing photos of the Earth, offering a sneak preview of the kind of gorgeous albums we can expect once human presence in space is firmly established.  I will let the following sequence speak for itself.

Actually, I'll make a note on the following: the darkened area is rain that had recently fallen on Texas.  This kind of Earth monitoring from orbit will be invaluable to science and business.

Trouble at the End

Gemini 4 was the first American (and possibly human, period) spacecraft to carry an onboard computer.  This device was designed to provide a smooth and automatic landing.  But on June 6, the day before landing, the computer became balky after receiving a software update, eventually quitting entirely. 

A manual, Mercury-style reentry had to be done, which was begun around 9:45 AM on June 7.  McDivitt was about a second late on the start of the procedure, and Gemini 4 ended up about 50 miles off target.

But the recovery fleet was already on hand when the parachute of McDivitt and White's capsule appeared in the noon-day blue, and within an hour of splash down, the astronauts and their ship were already onboard the aircraft carrier U.S.S. Wasp. 

The doomsday predictions that long-term exposure to orbital radiation and weightlessness proved largely unfounded.  The two astronauts were a little tired and wobbly, but on their own two feet, they marched below decks for a well-deserved shower.

Double is Something

In just a single flight, Gemini 4 more than doubled the accumulated American hours in space, quadrupled if you count them in human-hours.  Gemini has demonstrated that the U.S. can deploy free men into space for extended periods of time, both inside and outside a capsule.  And given the current flight schedule, with at least two, possibly three longer flights planned just for this year, there's no question that the American stride in the space race is lengthening.

Will the tortoise take the lead?  Or is a bunny in the shape of Voskhod 3 about to upset the contest once again?  Only time will tell.



Did you miss our stellar show on Gemini 4 and the Space Race? Tune into this rerun of The Journey Show!




[March 24, 1965] New Leaps Forward in Space (Voskhod 2, Europa F-3, Ranger 9, and Gemini 3)


by Kaye Dee

Returning to university kept me pretty busy in February, so I knew I wouldn’t have time to write, but this past month has seen yet more leaps forward in space exploration with the world’s first spacewalk and the launch of NASA’s first manned Gemini mission.

Soviet Space Achievements

It’s hard to believe that it’s just under four years since Yuri Gagarin rocketed into orbit as the first man in space. In that short time we’ve seen six flights in the Soviet Union’s Vostok program, including the first dual missions with two space capsules in orbit at the same time, and the first woman in space (how I’d love to meet Valentina Tereshkova!)


The first man and the first woman in space, Soviet cosmonauts Yuri Gagarin and Valentina Tereshkova

Just last year, the USSR gave us the first flight of its new Voskhod spacecraft, carrying a crew of three. At that time, my fellow writer, Gideon Marcus asked, what would the Soviets follow it up with? (see October 1964 entry)

Now we know. On March 18, the USSR launched a new Voskhod mission that has once again denied the United States a significant space first. This time, the Voskhod 2 mission included the world’s first spacewalk – about a year ahead of when NASA has anticipated accomplishing the same feat.

A Mystery Spacecraft


One of the few Voskhod images released so far, showing the inside of Voskhod 1. The orange cladding may be covering up many of the spacecraft's instruments

We don’t know a lot about the Voskhod spacecraft as the Soviet Union has released few pictures of it or statistics about it. It clearly must be substantially larger than the Vostok, since it has proved capable of carrying three people on its first flight, and two cosmonauts plus an airlock device on the recent spacewalking mission. We do know that, according to official figures, Voskhod 1 weighed 11,728lb, while Voskhod 2 weighed in at 12, 527lb – presumably because of the extra weight of the airlock it carried.

Newly Revealed Cosmonauts

The crew for this historic space flight were two cosmonauts whose names were previously unknown to us in the West: Colonel Pavel Belyayev, the mission Commander, and Lt. Colonel Alexei Leonov, who performed the actual spacewalk, or Extravehicular Activity (EVA) as NASA terms it. Leonov’s name will now go down in the history books as the first person ever to step outside a spacecraft into open space. Soviet cosmonaut biographies don’t really tell us very much, but both men are apparently Air Force fighter pilots, and are married with children. At 39, Col. Belyayev is the oldest person so far to make a space flight; he is also the oldest and highest ranking of the cosmonauts we know about.


Official TASS photo of Belyayev (left) and Leonov (right) with Yuri Gagarin at a radio interview after their historic flight

Onboard Airlock

Voskhod 2 was launched at 07.00GMT (5pm Australian Eastern Standard Time) and it was just 90 minutes later, on the second orbit, that the spacewalk took place. At the time, Voskhod 2 was about 300 miles above the earth – the highest orbit by a manned spaceflight to date. Soviet sources describe the airlock that Leonov used to exit the ship as being mounted on the outside of the spacecraft and entered from the Voskhod cabin via a hatch. After the completion of the spacewalk, the airlock was jettisoned before the ship returned to Earth. Because the spacewalk would expose the crew to the vacuum of space if the airlock malfunctioned, both cosmonauts wore spacesuits for the duration of the mission, unlike the Voskhod 1 crew, who made their space flight in lightweight suits, which would seem to be an indication of Soviet confidence in the performance of the spacecraft.


Belyayev (left) and Leonov (right) in their spacesuits on the way to the launch site. Voskhod 1 cosmonaut Vladimir Komarov is between them

Stepping into the Void

According to the TASS news agency, Lt. Col. Leonov spent 20 minutes “in conditions of outer space”. Since his actual spacewalk lasted about 10 minutes, the rest of the time must have been spent in the airlock. I’ve heard a rumour from my friends at the WRE that the spacewalk did not go as smoothly as the Soviets would like us to believe, and that Leonov actually had some difficulty re-entering the airlock, which might explain the times reported by TASS. But stories of Soviet coverups of problems with their cosmonaut program occur after every mission, so it’s hard to know quite where the truth lies in this instance.


Lt Colonel Alexei Leonov floating in the void of space during the historic first spacewalk, seen in frames from the film taken by a camera mounted on Voskhod 2

Whether he had a problem or not, Leonov spent about 10 minutes floating in the void, attached to Voskhod 2 by a long umbilicus, to prevent him drifting away. His breathing oxygen was supplied from a tank on his back. Leonov said that he could look down and see from the Straits of Gibraltar to the Caspian Sea. The spacewalk was filmed and photographed from the Voskhod and I imagine that very few of the readers of this article will not have seen the breathtaking footage of Leonov somersaulting and making swimming movements as he floats in space with the Earth behind him (actually below, of course).

Problems in Orbit?

Voskhod 2 completed 17 orbits before returning to the Earth on 19 March, but there was a mysterious silence from Moscow about the mission after the 13th orbit, which has led to some speculation that there was a problem with the spacecraft, especially as it was not until about five hours after the crew had landed in the vicinity of Perm, west of the Ural Mountains, that their safe return was reported. Belyayev is reported to have brought the Voskhod back to Earth using manual controls. Although official statements said that this was part of the planned research programme, it might also be a hint that the mission experienced problems.


Official TASS photo of Leonov (right) and Belyayev (left) after their return from the Voskhod 2 mission. Leonov is holding folders containing congratulatory messages

But whatever problems the mission may have encountered cannot detract from Lt. Col. Leonov’s historic achievement in making the first spacewalk, a technique that will be needed to advance future space activities. I wonder what new surprises Voskhod 3 will bring….

The Latest ELDO Test Flight

On 22 March, the ELDO program at Woomera also took another step forward with the third successful flight of the Blue Streak first stage of the Europa launcher. Launched at 8.30am local time, the rocket flew 985 miles, reaching a maximum altitude of 150 miles. This flight completes the first phase of the launcher development program: the next phase will begin with an all-up test of a live first stage with dummy upper stages.


The Blue Streak first stage for the ELDO Europa vehicle on the pad awaiting launch


America hits a Double


by Gideon Marcus

Three for Three

Despite the clear success represented by Voskhod 2, it would be folly to overlook the fact that it has been a tremendous week for NASA.  The Ranger program, once the most ill-starred of NASA endeavors, has just completed its third successful mission in a row.  Less than six hours ago, at 3:08 AM PDT, Ranger 9 crashed into the crater Alphonsus in the lunar highlands.

The prior two successful Rangers, 7 and 8, were largely handmaidens to the Project Apollo.  They returned thousands of photographs of potential landing sites for the crewed lunar program.  Ranger 9, on the other hand, was the first mission with a primarily scientific aim.  In order for us to understand the Moon, its construction, and its history, we need close-up information on as many different types of terrain as possible — and no two regions of the Moon are more distinct from each other than the mountains of the lunar highlands and the relatively flat Maria or "seas".  Alphonsus is particularly interesting as it has a large central peak that may be evidence of lunar vulcanism from an ancient period.

Launched at 1:37 PM PDT on March 21, the Atlas Agena carrying Ranger 9 quickly disappeared into the cloudy sky.  The reliable booster's aim was true, propelling the spacecraft first into Earth orbit, and then off toward its final destination.  The next day, Ranger fired its own engines, correcting its course to mathematical perfection. 

Today, at Impact -20 Minutes, Ranger 9 warmed up its television cameras.  Images began appearing at the JPL auditorium…and around the nation, broadcast to anyone who was up to see it (and who had an online TV station to tune into!) This was the first time a robotic mission had been simulcast, and it was very exciting.  Now if only they could time their missions to be more accommodating to the aged thirty-nine year old science writers who cover them…

There were originally supposed to be 12, or even 15 Rangers, but because it took so long for them to work properly, there are now more advanced missions that are superseding them, namely Lunar Orbiter and Surveyor.  This is just as well.  While Ranger has been a triumph of engineering and science, bearing unexpected dividends in the successful spinoff spacecraft, Mariner 2, there is only so much one can learn from TV pictures.  Indeed, initial reports suggest that while Ranger 9's photos discovered new craters within Alphonsus that might be evidence for vulcanism, as Dr. Harold Urey quipped, it won't be until we have chemists on the Moon that we can draw solid conclusions.

In any event, bravo NASA, and bravo Ranger. 

Two in Three

After the spectacular mission of Comrades Tereshkova and Bykovsky in June 1963, there was a long pause in crewed spaceflight.  The Mercury program had ended in May '63 with the day-long mission of Gordo Cooper in Faith 7.  Talk of extending Mercury was poopooed (though you can get an idea of what might have happened if you read the excellent novel, Marooned).  For more than a year, as Mercury's 2-seat successor, Gemini, suffered delay after delay, we waited for Khruschev's shoe to drop.

And the Soviets did beat us back to space with their three-man flight last October, though the success of that mission was somewhat eclipsed by the Soviet coup that took place just a couple hundred miles beneath the orbiting space capsule.  Voskhod 2, with its remarkable space walk, only seems to further the Soviet lead.

Yet the American turtle still has ambitions to beat the Red Hare.  The third Gemini mission (the first and second were uncrewed test flights) had been planned for this month for some time, and yesterday morning, Gemini 3 took off from Cape Canaveral carrying astronauts Gus Grissom and John Young for a three-orbit test flight. 

A lot has changed since John Glenn's pioneering three-orbit flight in Friendship 7, just three years ago.  Both Grissom and Young were kept busy with a slew of biological experiments to conduct in orbit.  Grissom got to conduct the very first spacecraft maneuver, firing the ship's engines once per orbit to change its altitude and velocity.  Neither Mercury nor Vostok had this capability, and I haven't read anything that suggests Voskhod has it, either.  Score one for the home team!

In addition to the ordinary drama that attaches to every space mission, the astronauts created some of their own.  A couple of hours into the flight, as Gemini drifted along its second orbit, it was time for the astronauts to sample their carefully prepared space food.  This meal was lavishly prepared by NASA scientists to be nutritious, compact, and resistant to creating crumbs that could drift into and short vital ship components. 

Whereupon astronaut John Young pulled out a corned beef sandwich from his pocket, ate a bite, and offered it to his commander.  Grissom took a polite nibble, commenting on the sandwich's inability to stay together, and quickly put the thing in his pocket.  Apparently, this was all the brainchild of Schirra, the most renowned prankster of the Mercury 7. 

Beyond this incident, the very name Grissom chose for the first crewed Gemini was something of a scandal.  Christening a spacecraft has always been the privilege of its commander, and Grissom, sensitive to the fate of his last ship, chose an appropriate name: "Molly Brown."  This, of course, was the name of the eponymous character from The Unsinkable Molly Brown, a popular broadway musical about a survivor of the Titanic disaster.

NASA felt that the name lacked dignity and insisted on a change.  Grissom dug in his heels, insisting that if he had to change the name, it would be to Titanic.  NASA gave in.

Gemini 3 completed its three orbits without incident and reentered the atmosphere four and a half hours after leaving it.  Unfortunately, Molly Brown plunged back into the atmosphere somewhat off course.  Grissom tried to steer the capsule (such as it is possible to maneuver a shuttle-cock shaped craft) closer to the Atlantic recovery fleet, but the craft ultimately splashed down some 84 kilometers short.  It took a good half hour for the carrier, U.S.S. Intrepid, to arrive.  In the interim, Grissom and Young sweltered, the commander unwilling to open the capsule and risk another swamped spacecraft.  It is my understanding that Molly Brown is still decorated with Schirra's sandwich…

Minor issues aside, Gemini 3 was a fully successful flight, officially man-rating the Gemini spacecraft.  The next mission, currently scheduled for late spring, will feature the American version of the vacuum shuffle.  The first American spacewalk was originally planned for next year, but Leonov's jaunt changed all that.  Sometimes the rabbit gives the turtle a little goose…

(If you're wondering why the second Mercury astronaut got the honor of commanding the mission, it's because Alan Shepard, the first Mercury astronaut, has been taken off flight status due to an inner ear disease, and astronaut Slayton, the only Mercury astronaut who hasn't flown a mission, was grounded earlier for a heart condition.  I'd assumed that Wally Schirra would command Gemini 4 (Glenn retired to go into politics; Carpenter retired to become an aquanaut), and that Cooper would take Gemini 5.  Apparently, however, Ed White of the second group of astronauts so impressed his peers that he will command the next Gemini mission.  Because of the shifting Gemini schedules, Cooper is still taking Gemini 5, but Schirra is going after him, commanding Gemini 6.)

The Score

So there you have it.  In the last six months, the Soviets have orbited five men, one of whom stepped into Outer Space.  The Americans orbited just two, but they autonomously drove their own spacecraft.  Meanwhile, Ranger 9 raised the total of close-up pictures of the Moon to nearly 20,000 whereas the Russians still haven't added to the handful provided by Luna 3 more than five years ago!

I guess we'll see what happens.  Will the next flight be Gemini 4 or Voskhod 3?



We'll be talking about these space flights and more at a special presentation of our "Come Time Travel with Me" panel, the one we normally do at conventions, on March 27 at 6PM PDT.  Come register to join us!  It's free and fun…and you might win a prize!




[January 28, 1965] Castor, Pollux, and TIROS (Gemini 2 and TIROS 9)

January's been exciting, space-wise.  Read on about two of the month's biggest developments!


by Gideon Marcus

Up and Down

Almost two years ago, Gordo Cooper orbited the Earth for a full day in his spacecraft called Faith 7.  This marked the end of the Project Mercury, America's first manned space program.  Work was already apace on Project Apollo, a three-seat spaceship scheduled to land on and return from the Moon before 1970.  However, with the Soviets launching spectacular Vostok flights with discouraging regularity, President Kennedy was not about to let several years go by while the Communists continued to rack up a lead in the Space Race.

Plus, it's important to walk before running.  Mercury was barely a crawl — we provided a minimum capsule for a single human to spend no more than a day in space.  The craft was a technological dead end (though there is some talk of turning the surplus four capsules into space telescopes). 

Meanwhile, the Apollo system consists of four components: the Command Module where the astronauts sit, the Service Module with engines and life support, the Lunar Module that will land on the Moon (itself comprising two parts!) and the trans-stage that will boost the whole stack from the Earth.  To successfully get this unwieldy affair safely across half a million miles of space will require the ability to change orbits, rendezvous, dock, and other complicated maneuvers.

Some kind of bridge is necessary.  It now exists, and it's called Gemini.

The two-seat Gemini is a real spacecraft, literally able to fly rings around a Mercury…or a Vostok for that matter.  In the ten or so planned flights, its pilots will not only learn the skills necessary for Apollo missions (and thus become the prime candidates when those missions happen), but they will also be in space far longer than anyone has been before.  Missions of up to two weeks are possible with Gemini!

As with Mercury, uncrewed test missions are necessary to make sure Gemini is up for human use.  Unlike Mercury, there were only two such Gemini missions planned — a dividend of Project Mercury (and there may have been a chimponaut strike, too).

Mission One was an orbital test, mostly to make sure the new Titan II missile worked properly as a spaceship booster.  Launched almost a year ago, on April 8, 1964, the mission went exactly as planned: Gemini 1's instrument pallets went silent after three hours of battery-powered transmission, the craft burned up a few days later upon reentry, and the holes drilled into the heat shield that adorned its hind end ensured its fiery doom.

Of course, it's all very nice that Gemini goes up, but could it come down?  That was the goal of the Gemini 2 mission.  Like Alan Shepard's flight into space back in May 1961, Gemini 2 was a suborbital jaunt planned to last all of 19 minutes. 

At four minutes after 9 AM, Eastern Time, the Gemini-Titan booster staged at Cape Kennedy's Launch Complex 19 flared to life.  Twin Aerojet engines blasted 215,000 pounds of thrust, hurling the rocket into the air at ever increasing speed as the red launch tower swung down from vertical to horizontal.  152 seconds after lift-off, the engines went silent, and the second stage cast off the first with an explosive disdain.  Just three minutes after that, stage two also went silent, and the Gemini capsule was cast off to fly freely. 

Gemini 2 wasted no time in turning itself around, and just seven minutes after launch, at T +415 seconds, the spacecraft fired its retrorockets, sending the ship on a collision course with the Earth.  It was a steep landing, designed to burden the heat shield with a load higher than what any human crew might experience.  But the little ship that Douglas built was up to the task, crashing through the layers of the atmosphere without incident, unfurling its parachutes and landing in the Atlantic Ocean almost three thousand miles downrange.

It had not quite been a perfect flight: a fuel cell that would have been the spacecraft's electricity supply during a long flight failed before lift-off, and the ship's cooling system ran hot.  But it was good enough for government work.  Astronauts Gus Grissom and John Young, the former already a space veteran, are scheduled to go up on Gemini 3 come spring.  With luck, we could see as many as three more launches before year's end.

I in the Sky

Since 1960, TIROS TV satellites have been keeping tabs on Earth's weather.  Zooming around the Earth every couple of hours, they have snapped shots of incipient hurricanes, raging storms, and swathes of clear skies in a way that was pure science fiction just half a decade before.

Scheduled to be superseded by the advanced NIMBUS satellites, NASA decided that there's no reason to stop using what works!  So TIROS just got upgraded, and the first of a new line was launched on January 22, 1965.

The ninth in the series, also called "TIROS I", is special for a number of reasons.  Firstly, it is the first TIROS to be launched into a polar orbit.  Instead of cruising East to West like most satellites, it circles North to South, with the Earth rotating underneath it.  This allows TIROS to photograph every part of the planet once a day.

Moreover, the TIROS I is of a new "cartwheel" design, spinning in space for stabilization with its axis perpendicular to Earth.  From the ground, it appears to roll around in the sky, its twin TV cameras mounted on the spinning rim to snap a shot once every three seconds.

Everyone complains about the weather.  Thanks to the new TIROS, now we can do more about it (or at least react with warning!) than ever before.  Sure, Gemini and Apollo will grab the headlines over the next few years, but it's the hard-working robotic satellites that are really ushering in the future.

[If you have a membership to this year's Worldcon (in New Zealand) or did last year (Dublin), we would very much appreciate your nomination for Best Fanzine!  We work for egoboo…]