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[August 26, 1966] Shooting the Moon – and Going Even Further (Lunar Orbiter, AS-202 and Pioneer 7)


by Kaye Dee

It’s been a busy month in deep space exploration, with new space probes exploring the Moon and conditions in interplanetary space, while another step forward in testing the hardware for the Apollo programme has just taken place.

Surveying the Moon

NASA may have called its lunar soft lander Surveyor 1, but its latest lunar mission, Lunar Orbiter 1, is actually surveying the Moon from orbit. It is the first of a series of Lunar Orbiter spacecraft that NASA wants to send to the Moon, with a launch planned every three months to obtain high-resolution photographs of potential Apollo landing sites. These probes will also extensively map the Moon’s surface with a resolution of 200 feet or better and study the Moon’s gravitational field as well as its radiation and micrometeoroid environments. The Boeing Missile Production Centre in Seattle is building the solar-powered spacecraft, with NASA’s Langley Research Centre managing the project.

Launched on 10 August (US time), Lunar Orbiter 1’s goals include imaging nine primary and seven secondary potential Apollo landing sites on the Earth-facing side of the Moon at medium and high resolutions, as well as photographing 11 areas on the hidden lunar far side at lower resolution. Although the spacecraft experienced a temporary failure of its navigation system (based on tracking the star Canopus) and overheated too, both these problems were resolved by the time it reached the Moon.

After a 92-hour cruise, Lunar Orbiter 1 entered an elliptical 117-by-1,160-mile orbit around the Moon, to become the first US probe to orbit our natural satellite (the USSR’s Luna 10 became the first spacecraft to orbit the Moon back in April). On 15 August, Lunar Orbiter 1 activated its 145-pound camera system and began testing it by scanning and transmitting back to Earth several pre-exposed frames of film.

A Photography Studio in Lunar Orbit

Photography is critical to the purpose and success of the Lunar Orbiter missions, and the advanced Lunar Orbiter camera system has been built by Eastman-Kodak. Rumours I heard during my recent visit to Woomera indicate that it is based on a system originally designed for a classified military satellite. Lunar Orbiter’s “camera” is actually a double instrument, using two lenses to take a wide-angle medium-resolution shot and a high-resolution image on the same film. The narrow angle, high-resolution camera has a resolution of just three feet, while the resolution of the wide-angle camera is 25 feet.

The first medium-resolution image taken by Lunar Orbiter 1, showing part of the Mare Smythii region

Once it takes a picture, Lunar Orbiter functions as a photography studio in space, developing its film onboard using a semi-dry process. The developed film is scanned in narrow strips using a photomultiplier, with the scans transmitted back to Earth. The signals are then reconverted into photos in a way that is quite fascinating. I was fortunate enough to see this process for myself while I was visiting NASA’s Island Lagoon deep space tracking station near Woomera last week. The signals representing each scanned strip are reconverted to images on film and then each strip is laid on a board, one beside the other, to build up the photograph. Once all the film strips comprising the complete frame have been received and laid out, the final image is photographed. This produces the “striped” effect seen in the pictures that NASA has already released.

Getting to Work

Lunar Orbiter acquired its first images of the Moon on 18 August, taking 16 high-resolution and four medium-resolution frames. While the medium-resolution photos were of good quality, a problem with the spacecraft’s motion compensation system caused blurring of the early high-resolution images, although this has now been resolved. A separate issue with the film developing system has also required the film to be advanced more frequently than planned, resulting in the need to take additional unplanned photographs. This has proved a bonus for mission managers, enabling them to shoot additional photographs at unusual oblique angles by temporarily reorienting the spacecraft. Perhaps these special images will produce useful perspectives that can be more fully explored on later Lunar Orbiter missions.

A medium-resolution view of the Moon's heavily-cratered far side, with the unusual crater Tsiolkovsky (with the dark interior) appearing in the top right

Initially, Lunar Orbiter concentrated on imaging the Moon's hidden side, of which we know so little, before moving on to its main task of surveying the proposed Apollo landing sites. On 20 August, the spacecraft altered its orbit to approach as close as 36 miles above the Moon’s surface, and on 25 August, it lowered its orbit still further, to 25.2 miles, to get the most detailed views of potential Apollo landing sites. This will help scientists to determine which ones will be safest for the first manned missions to the Moon.

An Historic Image

On 23 August, as Lunar Orbiter 1 emerged from behind the Moon, it captured what has to be one of the most important images so far produced in space exploration: a view of the Earth appearing to rise over the lunar horizon. This is the first time that our home planet has been photographed from so far out in space, and also the first time that the Earth and the Moon have appeared in the same picture. The hi-resolution image, seen below, is breathtaking in black and white – I just wish it could be reproduced at a larger scale here. so that you could see all the detail it provides. Just imagine how much more spectacular this view of the Earth will be when we can finally see it in colour, perhaps taken when the first Apollo astronauts orbit the Moon! 

As I write this, Lunar Orbiter has recently taken another image of the Earth from the Moon and is continuing its primary task of imaging Apollo landing sites. The spacecraft will soon run out of film and take its last photographs, although transmission of the 200 or so scanned images may not be completed until mid-September. Its photography mission may then be over, but the probe will continue to return data on radiation and micrometeoroid conditions around the Moon. Once its maneouvring fuel is almost depleted, ground controllers will command Lunar Orbiter 1 to de-orbit and crash onto the Moon. This will ensure that its presence as a dead satellite in orbit will not interfere with future Lunar Orbiter or Apollo missions.

Prelude to Apollo

While Lunar Orbiter has been assisting the Apollo programme with its work in lunar orbit, here on Earth the latest step forward in the manned lunar program has just taken place. 25 August saw the sub-orbital flight of AS-202, the second unmanned test flight of a production Block I Apollo Command and Service Module and the third for the Saturn 1B rocket.

Originally intended as the second test flight of the Saturn IB vehicle, the mission was delayed until after AS-203 because its Apollo Command and Service Module (CSM-011) was not yet ready. CSM-011 is essentially a production model capable of carrying a crew, although it was not fully fitted out and lacked the crew couches. This was the first flight of the spacecraft’s guidance and navigation system as well as the fuel cell electrical system. The flight was also designed to test the Command Module’s heat shield.

The performance of the Saturn 1B was perfect, putting the spacecraft into a ballistic trajectory. Separating from the launcher’s second stage at an altitude of 419.8 nautical miles, the CSM was pre-programmed to make four burns to test its service propulsion system (SPS). The first, and longest, burn lasted 3 minutes, 35 seconds, lifting the spacecraft apogee to 617.1 nautical miles, 874.8 nautical miles downrange. The two final burns lasted only three seconds each, designed to test the rapid restart capabilities of the engine.

The spacecraft performed a skip re-entry to shed speed. It first descended to 36 nautical miles before lifting back up to 44 nautical miles and descending again. The Command Module splashed down south-east of Wake Island, about 205 nautical miles from the target landing site, but was retrieved by the aircraft carrier USS Hornet.

The success of this flight indicates that the Block I spacecraft and Saturn IB are ready to carry a crew into orbit, so the next mission, AS-204, may well be manned. What an exciting development that will be!

Continually Pioneering

Moon missions, manned spaceflight and planetary explorers capture the attention of the public, but NASA’s Pioneer series of probes are quietly continuing to gather scientific information about the Sun and conditions in interplanetary space.

Launched on 17 August, Pioneer 7 joins its predecessor Pioneer 6, as the second of five spacecraft designed to make a long term study of the solar wind, solar magnetic field and cosmic rays. This research will contribute to the Apollo programme as well, by producing a better understanding of the radiation environment that the astronauts will encounter on the Moon, which is not protected by a magnetic field like the Earth.

NASA illustration depicting the locations in interplanetary space of the Pioneer 6, 7 and the future Pioneer 8 (Pioneer C) spacecraft 37 days after launch

Where Pioneer 6 is orbiting the Sun between the orbits of Earth and Venus, Pioneer 7 is heading 12 million miles beyond Earth’s orbit, taking up station at approximately 1.1 Astronomical Units, between the orbits of Earth and Mars. Its 140-pound package of seven scientific instruments is the same as that carried on Pioneer 6. One of these instruments, the cosmic ray anisotropy experiment, was developed by Dr. Ken McCracken, an Australian physicist interested in the hazards of space radiation to astronauts and the behaviour of cosmic rays. With professorships at both the University of Adelaide and the University of Texas, McCracken is earning himself the nickname “Sir Launchalot” for the number of instruments he has already flown on satellites, sounding rockets and high-altitude balloons!

With NASA’s Ames Research Centre as the project managers, Pioneer 7 was built by TRW and is identical to Pioneer 6. Each spin-stabilised spacecraft is cylindrical, with the main body measuring 37 inches in diameter by 35 inches high. Solar panels are mounted around the body, with a long magnetometer boom extending 82 inches long. The antenna mast is 52 inches long and the entire spacecraft weighs approximately 150 pounds. The spacecraft have a design life of six months, but Pioneer 6 has already outlived that, and there is every expectation that Pioneer 7 will exceed its design life as well.

Off the Earth

Perhaps the most fascinating aspect of this update is that all of the launches involve extraterrestrial destinations. The focus has turned from the Earth to its nearest neighbors. How far we have come in just a few years! Where might we be headed come 1970?






[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.






[July 16, 1966] Onward and Upward! (Apollo, Australia, and OV)

Not a month goes by without some interesting tidbits on the space front.  Even between Gemini and Voskhod missions, there's always something going on, all over the world!


by Gideon Marcus

Heavy Lifting

We are used to space shots being manned spectaculars — brave men in space suits heading into the cosmos.  But the missions that precede the human-crewed flights are just as important.  On February 26 of this year, we saw the first full Apollo test flight.  It featured an old-style Command Module, the bit of Apollo that will house crew, but the Service Module was standard production line.  The rocket, too, is going to see service.  Unlike the Saturn 1, which flew ten test flights in a row with remarkable reliability, the Saturn 1B will be used for actual Apollo missions, at least ones that will take place in Earth orbit.

The February flight, dubbed AS-201, was not without problems.  Nevertheless, it comprised a successful launch and landing after a 37-minute suborbital flight.

AS-203, launched July 5, was strictly a booster test.  The goal was to see if the Centaur second stage of the Saturn 1B could restart successfully in orbit, a critical function for lunar missions.  As a booster test, the rocket stack looked a bit odd.  Instead of an Apollo capsule, there was simply a nosecone covering the second stage.  The deletion of even a boilerplate also meant that the rocket could carry more fuel for testing.  By the time the vehicle had reached orbit, there was still 20,000 pounds of hydrogen and 3,000 pounds of oxygen in its tanks.

For four orbits, NASA engineers subjected the vehicle to various stress tests.  Hydrogen and oxygen were vented in various quantities.  In its final orbit, hydrogen was vented but the oxygen vents kept closed to create a tremendous pressure differential.  This eventually caused the rocket to explode, but not before surviving twice the expected endurance of the vehicle.  Call that a success!

Next up will be AS-202, which was bumped to accommodate this flight.  It will be a suborbital test like AS-201, but the Apollo will have fully functional guidance and navigation systems to test.  A few more successful flights, and we'll be on our way to the Moon!

Fraternal Twins

The Air Force has gotten a lot out of its budget "Orbiting Vehicle" program.  The idea behind the program was to utilize space on rocket test launches for satellites using standardized, mass-produced bodies.  This meant a double-savings over custom-built missions on mission-specific flights. 

Of course, things don't always work out as planned.  There are at least three OV series now, and only the OV2s have used spare test flights (in their case, on Titan 3Cs).  The OV3 series uses purpose-launched Scout rockets.  The OV1s, instead of using space on test-launched Atlas rockets (save for the first one), have instead used spare Atlases that were decommissioned from military service last year.  Still, the rockets were just sitting there, so it's still cheaper than it could have been.

In any event, OV1-7 and OV1-8, launched on July 14, represent the second time a pair of OV1 satellites were orbited back-to-back.  This particular launch was a little unusual for two reasons.  Firstly, OV1-7 (a standard OV1 satellite) was supposed to be a particle physics and "earthglow" detector. But it never left its Atlas and fell back to Earth.

Secondly, OV1-8 wasn't an OV1 at all, really.  It was a big balloon.  And not just an ordinary balloon: it was actually an aluminum grid put into spherical shape by being embedded in inflatable plastic.  When OV1-8 got to orbit, it inflated.  The Sun's rays disintegrated the plastic leaving a hollow mesh sphere.  Called PaGeos (Passive Geosynchronous), OV1-8 orbits the Earth at the same rate as its rotation, keeping it pretty much in the same spot in the sky with reference to a ground-based observer. 

And what good is a hollow aluminum balloon?  Why, for bouncing messages off of!  Turns out PaGeos reflects signals five times as well as the old NASA Project Echo balloons.  Also, the hollow nature makes PaGeos much less susceptible to air drag, which shortens the lifetime of a satellite by eventually pulling it down to Earth.  PaGeos was shot into orbit backwards to maximize air drag, yet it is calculated to have a lifespan of four years. 

Though active satellites like Telstar and Syncom have largely replaced passive balloon satellites, the cheapness and durability of passive comsats like PaGeos suggests there may be a specialized use for them in years to come.  I guess we'll just have to wait and see!



by Kaye Dee

(Not) Going Up from Down Under

Hello everyone, Kaye here. Gideon has kindly allowed me an opportunity to provide a quick update on recent space events in Australia. While the British and Australian sounding rocket programmes keep expanding, the European Launcher Development Organisation’s Europa launcher program at Woomera has had its first major failure-and one that was not the fault of the rocket itself!

Following the three successful test flights of the Blue Streak first stage, ELDO F-4 was intended to be the first all-up test of the three-stage Europa vehicle. The first stage was active, with the French second stage and the West German third stage inert dummies. The rocket was also carrying a dummy test satellite that carried some instrumentation to measure the conditions that a real satellite would experience during launch.

Although the 24 May lift-off went perfectly, the impact predictor soon reported that the rocket was veering west of the planned trajectory. At 136 seconds the Range Safety Officer terminated the flight, with the debris raiding down into the lower part of the Simpson Desert. To the disappointment of all involved, the post-flight analysis revealed that the rocket had, in fact, been exactly on course, and inaccurate readings had been received at the Mirikata downrange radar station 120 miles away. Oops! ELDO is now preparing for a new all-up test later this year, possibly in November. 

Waking a Sleeping Beauty

Australia has also recently played a special role in the Surveyor mission currently on the Moon. After the solar-powered probe shut down during the two week lunar night, the task of bringing it back to operational life was entrusted to the NASA Tidbinbilla Deep Space Tracking Station, outside Canberra. The re-awakening process on 8 July was a complete success and the space tracker who sent the "wake up" command was jokingly given a special citation: the Prince Charming Award!

[…and that's the space news for this week.  Stay tuned for full Gemini 10 coverage next week!]






[April 20, 1966] Space Exploration is Hard (Venera 2 and 3, Luna 10 and OAO 1)


by Kaye Dee

While manned spaceflight always grabs the headlines, the past month or so has seen some fascinating, if not always successful, attempts at planetary and lunar exploration and the launch of a new space observatory. The failures of some of these missions remind us that space exploration is hard and success is never guaranteed…

Still Unable to Lift the Veil of Venus

Launched just days apart back in November last year, Soviet Venus probes, Venera 2 and 3 were due to arrive at the Earth’s mysterious, cloud-veiled sister planet at the beginning of March, but both seem to have failed just on the verge of success. 

As early as February 1961, the USSR commenced its attempts to explore Venus with the Venera (Russian for Venus) 1 probe. Although Venera-1 flew past Venus at a distance of 100,000km on 19 May 1961, no data were received, due to a communications failure. According to my friends at the Weapons Research Establishment, following that mission there may have been several failed attempts by the USSR to launch missions to Venus, before Venera 2 and 3 were successfully sent on their way back in November.

(top) Venera 1, the USSR's first Venus probe and (bottom) its official follow on, Venera 2. I wonder how many unannounced failures lie between these two missions?

According to various news releases from the Soviet news agency TASS, the two spacecraft were intended for different exploration missions. Venera 2 was planned to fly past the sunlit side of Venus and examine its enigmatic clouds. The spacecraft was equipped with cameras, a magnetometer and a variety of instruments to measure the radiation environment in space and at Venus. Valuable data on the interplanetary space environment was transmitted back to Earth during the flight to Venus.

All Venera 2's instruments were activated for the flyby on 27 February, at a distance of 14,790 miles. While the instruments were operating, the radio had to be shut down, with the probe storing their data in onboard recorders. The plan was for the stored data to be transmitted it to Earth once contact was restored. However, it seems that ground controllers in the USSR were unable to re-establish communications with the spacecraft after the flyby. Attempts to re-establish contact with Venera 2 ceased on March 4, but if communication with the spacecraft can be made at some future point, Soviet scientists believe that it may still be possible to recover some of the flyby data.

Touchdown?

Unlike Venera 2’s flyby (similar to those of Mariner 2 at Venus and Mariner 4 at Mars), Venera 3’s ambitious goal was to land a small capsule of instruments on the surface of Venus, hopefully to unlock at least some of the secrets hidden beneath its veil of clouds. Because some scientists believe there could be life on Venus, the USSR claims the lander was “sterilised” before its departure from Earth so that would not contaminate the Venusian atmosphere or surface with any microbial terrestrial life.

The Venera 3 lander was a metal sphere about 35 inches in diameter, which carried instruments to measure atmospheric temperature, pressure and composition, and light levels at different altitudes, as well small metal Soviet emblems. Interestingly, because some scientists still hold the view that Venus could be a water world, the lander was designed to be able to float and carried a motion detector, which could determine if it had actually landed in water and was rocking in the waves.

Venera 3 was similar to its sister-probe Venera 2. But look closely and you can see the landing capsule at the bottom of the spacecraft

Weighing 884lbs, the lander was designed to drop through Venus’ atmosphere on a parachute, transmitting data from its instruments directly back to Earth, while the rest of the Venera 3 spacecraft went into orbit around Venus to take other scientific measurements. However, like its sister probe, contact with Venera 3 was lost as it approached Venus. Tracking data indicates that the landing capsule entered the Venusian atmosphere on 1 March, although no telemetry was received from the lander. Nevertheless, the Venera 3 lander has become the first manmade object to impact another planet, which is an achievement in itself. The reasons for the failure of the two Venera spacecraft remain a mystery, although some experts believe that the thick Venusian atmosphere may have had something to do with it.

Newly-released Venera 3 stamp (thanks Uncle Ernie!). It shows the Soviet medal and pendant depicting the planet Earth that were carried on board the lander

Advancing the Soviet Lunar Programme

Despite the problems with its Venus programme, the USSR’s lunar programme seems to be going from strength to strength. Following on from the historic soft landing on the Moon with Luna 9 in February, Luna 10 marks another step forward, becoming the first spacecraft to go into orbit around the Moon. (Of course, it’s obvious that this feat was timed to occur during the 23rd Congress of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union, but I’m sure it was also deliberately planned to upstage the United States’ Lunar Orbiter program, which is due to commence later this year, with a series of spacecraft that will photograph and map the Moon in advance of the Apollo programme).

Luna 10, the first spacecraft to orbit the Moon

A pre-launch photograph of Luna 10 indicates that its design is very similar to that of Luna 9, although the instrument capsule on top has a different shape. Launched on 31 March, Luna 10 went into lunar orbit three days later. Its elliptical orbit approaches as close as to the lunar surface as 217 miles, with its farthest point at 632 miles, and takes just under three hours. The 530lb spacecraft is battery powered, rather than using solar panels, so it is unclear how long it will keep sending data back to the Earth, but at present it is producing a regular stream of information about the space environment in the vicinity of the Moon, that will help us understand how safe (or otherwise) it will be for the first cosmonauts and astronauts to explore cislunar space and the Moon itself.

Close up view of a model of the Luna 10 instrument capsule and the small Soviet metal pendants that it carried onboard

Scientific Instruments aboard Luna 10 include a gamma-ray spectrometer, a magnetometer, a meteorite detector, instruments for solar-plasma studies, and devices for measuring infrared emissions from the Moon and radiation conditions of the lunar environment. However, it is not clear whether the probe is actually carrying a camera to photograph the Moon’s surface. Preliminary data released by the Soviet Union indicates that there are higher concentrations of meteoritic dust in the vicinity of the Moon than in interplanetary space, as well as “electron fluxes” that are “70 to 100 times more intense than the cosmic ray background”.

First day cover commemorating the Luna 10 mission. Soviet space covers are masterpieces of propaganda, with the stamp design, envelope design and postmark all re-inforcing the message of Communist space achievement!

A Propaganda Serenade from the Moon!

As the Space Race heats up, the Soviet leadership is always ready to exploit propaganda opportunities associated with space exploration. To celebrate the CPSU Congress, a synthesised version of the Communist anthem “The Internationale” was broadcast live from Luna 10 to the congress on 4 April. (At least, it was claimed to be live: I wonder if Luna 10’s controllers actually used a pre-recorded version in case there were problems with the spacecraft? After all, it would be very politically embarrassing to have a failure of Soviet technology at such a high profile event for global Communism!)

Sky High Eyes on the Sky

The last mission I want to mention this month is NASA’s Orbiting Astronomical Observatory (OAO) 1, not least because this a major space project managed by a woman! Dr. Nancy Grace Roman, formerly a radio astronomer with the Naval Research Laboratory, joined NASA in 1959 and became Chief of Astronomy in NASA's Office of Space Science in 1960. She has a prestigious international reputation and was the first woman in an executive position at the space agency, where she has established the space astronomy programme.

Dr Nancy Grace Roman in 1962 with a model of another of her space observatory projects, the Orbiting Solar Observatory

The heaviest satellite yet launched by the United States (weighing almost two tons), OAO 1 was launched successfully on 8 April, riding to orbit on an Atlas-Agena D from Cape Canaveral. It carried 10 telescopes and other instruments capable of detecting ultraviolet, X-ray and gamma ray emissions to measure the absorption and emission characteristics of the stars, planets, nebulae from the visible to gamma-ray regions The observatory satellite was intended to give astronomers their first clear look at the heavens without the distorting effect of the Earth’s atmosphere and its results were greatly anticipated.

However, before the instruments could be activated, something caused a power failure that resulted in the mission being terminated after just 20 orbits. Because the spacecraft could not be controlled, its solar panels could not be deployed to recharge the batteries supplying the equipment and instruments on board the satellite. Although this is a blow to space astronomy, I’m sure the OAO programme will continue as future satellites are already in development.

NASA illustration of Orbiting Astronomical Observatory 1. While this satellite has failed, there will be future space observatories in this program






[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






[February 14, 1966] "…to Replace the Pounds and the Shillings and the Pence" (Australia Goes Decimal)


by Kaye Dee

Today is C-Day (Conversion Day) – the day Australia switches to decimal currency after 140 years of using the British system of Pounds, Shillings and Pence. (I actually think it should have been called D-Day, for Decimalisation Day, but I guess that might have seemed insensitive to some of our returned servicemen). Schoolkids are now sighing with relief that they will not have to learn to do those complicated “money sums” like all the generations before them!

A Rum Deal

Australia’s monetary history is rather colourful. In the early days of the penal colony in Sydney, there was very little hard currency available, and most transactions were by barter. Rum and other spirits became a form of currency, controlled by corrupt military officers, which earned their regiment the nickname “the Rum Corps”. When Governor Bligh (yes, that Bligh of Mutiny on the Bounty fame!) tried to prohibit spirits from being used as a medium of exchange, it resulted in a mutiny that drove him from the colony in 1808. This event is known, not surprisingly, as the Rum Rebellion.


Governor Macquarie, Bligh’s successor, introduced the first Australian currency. He purchased 40,000 Spanish dollars and had a round piece punched out of the middle of each one, producing two coins – the “holey dollar” (valued at five shillings) and the “dump” (valued at one shilling and three pence). His “minter” was a convicted forger!

Real Money

In the mid-1820s, the British Government finally decided to provide the Australian colonies with a proper currency and introduced the British system of Pounds, Shillings and Pence. If you’re not familiar with it, 12 pence (pennies) made up a shilling and 20 shillings made one pound.

Australia used British coins and banknotes right up into the early 1900s. It wasn’t until 1910, nine years after the colonies federated to form the Commonwealth of Australia, that the Australian Pound was introduced. Even then, it was branches of Britain’s Royal Mint in Sydney, Melbourne and Perth that produced the coins, indicating how closely Australia remained tied to Britain. The first Royal Australian Mint was only opened in early 1965 to produce our new decimal coins. 


Australian Pound notes (with pretty boring designs) and the full range of Australian coins available before the changeover to decimal currency. A "florin" was another name for a two shilling coin

Going Decimal

Several times in the past 50 years, there have been suggestions for Australia to adopt a decimal currency system. Decimal currency puts us in line with all the world’s major currencies, apart from the Pound Sterling, and all our trading partners apart from Great Britain. But Britain did not want Australia to change its monetary system, and successive Australian Governments and the Reserve Bank of Australia ultimately accepted the British view.

However, in the late 1950s, Prime Minister Robert Menzies finally recognised the economic and pragmatic importance of converting to a decimalised currency. With Australia’s export trade increasing, the complexity of the Pounds, Shillings and Pence system made the arithmetic of financial transactions unnecessarily difficult (as I know from personal experience). Research showed that decimalisation would save the Australian economy more than £11 million ($22 million) a year, through the increased convenience of a decimal currency. This would quickly offset the £30 million ($60 million) cost of conversion. So, in 1963 the Currency Act nominated 14 February 1966 as the day Australia would go decimal.

In Come the Dollars…

Our new currency needed a name and new designs that would be uniquely Australian. A public competition was held in 1963 to find a name “with an Australian flavour” for the currency. About 1000 submissions were received. These included suggestions such as Austral, Boomer (a male kangaroo), Kanga, Roo, Emu, Digger (an Australian soldier), Zac (old nickname for a sixpence coin; it’s also slang for something worthless), Kwid (a funny spelling of the old slang “quid” meaning a Pound), and Ming (from Prime Minister Menzies’ nickname, which comes from the Flash Gordon character “Ming the Merciless”!).


1963 prototype designs for the possible new "Royal". As you can see, one design followed the style of the existing Pound note, the other was quite modern and tilts towards the style in the eventual dollar design

Mr. Menzies rejected all the competition’s suggestions. Being a fervent monarchist, he proposed instead calling the currency the Royal. However, the public made it clear that they didn’t like that name (I certainly didn’t!), so in September 1963, the Treasurer announced that our new currency would be the dollar (which would be the equivalent of 10 shillings), divided into 100 cents. Everyone was much happier with that.

Monopoly Money
It was decided that the new coins should depict Australian wildlife while the notes should reflect national history and Australia’s contribution to the wider world. Gordon Andrews, one of Australia’s leading industrial designers, has designed the new notes. His bright colours and modern style have already led to some wits comparing the new notes to “Monopoly money”, but I think they look great and represent a nation which is coming out from under Britain’s shadow and finding its own feet. 

Australia's new decimal coins. The 1 cent piece shows a possum (a completely different animal from the American opossum); the 2 cent, a frill-necked lizard; the 5 cent coin shows an echidna (otherwise known as a spiny ant-eater) and the 10 cent a lyre-bird; the 20 cent depicts a platypus and the 50 cent coin carries the Australian Coat of Arms, which includes a kangaroo and an emu

The $1 note acknowledges Australia’s origins depicting Aboriginal art and Queen Elizabeth II, while the $2 highlights Australian agricultural innovation in the development of the superfine wool Australian Merino sheep and rust-disease resistant Federation wheat. The $10 note recognises the freed convicts who helped to build this country and our home-grown poets and writers, and the $20 celebrates internationally renowned Australian aviation pioneers. I understand that next year, once we have become more used to the new notes, a $5 bill will also be introduced. Hopefully, it will recognise the often-overlooked contribution of women to Australia’s history.

Our new dollar notes, with their fresh modern styling. To make the transition easier for users, the decimal notes have been matched to their counterparts in the “old money” and are similarly, but more brightly, coloured as you can see by comparison with the earlier image of the Australian Pounds

Meet Dollar Bill


Dollar Bill, the decimal changeover mascot, singing his jingle to a classical musician playing an instrument shaped like the Pound symbol

In April last year, a new character appeared on our TV screens and in cinema ads. His name is “Dollar Bill” and he was introduced as part of the government’s campaign to educate everyone about decimal currency before C-Day arrived. Dollar Bill has been on TV every night (sometimes too many times a night!), singing his catchy little jingle to help familiarise people with the new currency values and the date of changeover. The most memorable part of the jingle is: “In come the dollars and in come the cents, to replace the pounds and the shillings and the pence. Be prepared folks when the coins begin to mix, on the fourteenth of February 1966”. I’m not sure why, but the identity of the person who provides the voice for Dollar Bill is being kept a secret.

The jingle’s tune is based on the folk song “Click Go the Shears” (about sheering sheep in outback Australia). Everyone knows that song, so it makes the decimal currency rhyme easy to remember. I think it’s engraved on my brain now: I’ve heard it so many times, I suspect I’ll still be able to sing it when I’m sixty! Those of you in America might be interested to know that the tune was originally an American Civil War song "Ring the Bell, Watchman" by Henry Clay Work, that somehow made its way down under.


The character is very popular with kids and apparently the Decimal Currency Board gets about 500 fan mail letters a week for Dollar Bill from school children. He has appeared on everything from billboards to matchbox covers. 

To appeal to the teenage audience, there’s a hip little rock number called “The Decimal Point Song”, sung by a young man named Ian Turpie. It was never going to rate on the pop charts, but I think young Turpie could have a good career ahead of him in entertainment. For older Australians there’s even a series of television ads called “Get with It, Gran”.


Major retailers are helping customers feel comfortable with the changeover by including decimal prices and their "old money" equivalents in their catalogues

It's not easy for older people, or younger ones either for that matter, to get used to the change, especially if they are not very good at maths. But at least we have two years of changeover, during which both old and new currency can be used. Of course, the kids now in Primary School have it easy, as they'll grow up with the new system. It will be interesting to see on the news tonight how the first day of the changeover goes, but I doubt there will be the chaos that some pessimists are predicting after all the community preparation. And who knows – if things go smoothly, maybe the government will even consider taking Australia metric as well in the future! 


There are quite a few handy little pocket calculators like these available that make the conversion process relatively easy. I'll bet their inventors are making a small fortune






[December 8, 1965] Space is Getting Crowded (A-1/Asterix, FR-1, Explorer-31, Alouette-2, Luna-8, Gemini-7


by Kaye Dee

A few weeks ago, I wrote that November had been a busy month for space missions, but just in the past three weeks the heavens have become even more crowded, with six more launches taking place

France Joins the Space Club-Twice!

Congratulations to France on orbiting its first two satellites within ten days of each other, joining that exclusive club of nations that have either launched their own satellite, or put a satellite into orbit with the help of the United States. In France’s case it has done both!

In addition to its participation in the European Launcher Development Organisation (ELDO), France has its own national space programme, managed by its space agency, the Centre National d'Etudes Spatiales (National Centre for Space Studies, or CNES for short). Established just on four years ago (19 December 1961), CNES has moved rapidly to make France a leading player in the Space Race: it has been working with the French Army on the development of a satellite carrier rocket, named Diamant, and with the United States on a series of satellites dubbed “FR” (for France, of course).

France’s first satellite, A-1, was launched on 26 November on the first flight of the Diamant (Diamond) launcher from the French ballistic missile test site at Hammaguir, in Algeria. With this launch, France has become the sixth country to have a satellite in orbit—and only the third nation after the USSR and United States to launch a satellite on its own launch vehicle (Canada, the UK and Italy all launched their satellites on American rockets). 


France's Diamant rocket lifts off successfully on its maiden flight, carrying the A-1 satellite

The 60ft tall Diamant is derived from France’s “Precious Stones” nuclear ballistic missile development programme. It is a three-stage rocket, with the first stage being liquid-fuelled and the two upper stages derived from solid-fuel missiles. The satellite is officially named A-1 (Armée-1/Army-1) as it is the first satellite launched by the French Army, but the French media quickly nicknamed it Asterix, after a popular character in French comic strips. This character isn’t well-known in the English-speaking world, but apparently “Asterix the Gaul” is hugely popular in France. According to some of the ELDO people at Woomera, the A-1 satellite was originally intended to be the second satellite in the FR series. It was hurriedly selected to fly on the first Diamant test launch, because FR-1 was in the final stages of being readied for launch in the United States (more on that below). 


A-1 being readied for launch, mounted on top of the Diamant's third stage

A-1/Asterix is shaped a bit like a spinning-top and, rather unusually, its body is made of fibreglass, which is decorated with black stripes for passive thermal control, to stop the satellite’s interior overheating. A-1 is 22 inches in diameter and 22 inches high, with four antennae around its midriff. It weighs 92 ½lbs and carries instruments for taking measurements of the ionosphere. Battery powered, A-1 was expected to transmit for about 10 days, but although the launch was successful, the signals from the satellite quickly faded, possibly due to damage to its antennae caused by part of the protective nosecone hitting the satellite as it fell away. However, even though it is no longer transmitting, A-1 will remain in orbit for several centuries!


On 30 November, the French Post Office celebrated the successful launch of France's first satellite with the release of a stamp triptych

France’s second satellite, FR-1, was launched on 6 December local time using a Scout X-4 vehicle from the Vandenberg Air Force Base in California. Originally intended to be the first French satellite, FR-1 is the first of a series of French scientific satellites that have been developed by CNES in conjunction with the Centre National d'Etudes des Telecommunications (National Centre for Telecommunications Studies, or CNET). This project is partially funded by NASA’s Office of Space Science Applications as part of a co-operative programme that commenced in 1959, when the United States offered to launch satellites for any nation that wished to take part. Canada, Britain and Italy have all launched their first satellites under this programme (which is why they were launched on US rockets). Australia has been invited to participate but, so far, our government has rejected proposals from the scientific community on the basis that it cannot afford to fund the development of a satellite.


FR-1, the second French satellite mounted on its Scout launch vehicle, before the rocket is moved to the pad

The FR-1 satellite (France-1, also known as FR-1A) carries experiments to study VLF propagation in the magnetosphere and irregularities in the topside ionosphere. It also has an electron density probe to measure electron concentration in the vicinity of the satellite. Weighing 135lb, FR-1 looks like two truncated octagonal pyramids joined at their bases by an octagonal prism measuring 27 inches across from corner to corner. The body is covered with solar cells and bristles with antennae and probe booms. FR-1 is operating smoothly so far, but it carries no onboard tape recorder, so the satellite’s data has to be transmitted in real time when it passes over designated ground stations.

So why the rush to get the Asterix out before FR-1? The launch of Asterix seems to have been a combination of expediency and French nationalism. CNES and the Army were ready to do the first test launch of the Diamant rocket, and these sort of first tests are usually just done with a ballast payload, so that if the rocket fails nothing important is lost. In this case, CNES seems to have thought that they might as well take the risk of putting a satellite on the rocket, because if it succeeded it would give France the honour of being the third nation to launch its own satellite. As FR-1 was already at Vandenberg being prepped for launch, it was easier to pull out FR-2, which was a smaller satellite and already pretty well completed development, to become the payload for the Diamant flight. If the Diamant launch was then delayed for some reason, or failed, France would still become one of the earliest nations with a satellite in orbit with the launch of FR-1. So, as we say in Australia, they "had a bob both ways" on gaining some space kudos!

ISIS-X: International Cooperation Exploring the Ionosphere

NASA must now have a virtual production line, churning out Explorer satellites like sausages for launch about two weeks apart, if the past month has been anything to go by: there was Explorer-29 on 6 November, Explorer-30 on 19 November and now Explorer-31 on 29 November. This latest Explorer is also known as Direct Measurement Explorer-A (DME-A) and it represents the American half of a joint ionospheric research program with Canada, which is collectively known as International Satellites for Ionospheric Studies-X (ISIS-X).


Explorer-31 ready for shipment to Vandenberg Air Force Base

Explorer-31 weighs about 218lb and carries seven experiments that can be operated simultaneously or sequentially, taking direct measurements immediately in front of, and behind, the satellite's path. Solar cells that cover about 15 percent of the satellite’s surface provide its power. Like FR-1, this small spacecraft does not carry an onboard tape recorder, so its data has to be transmitted ‘live’ when it is turned on while passing over one of NASA’s Space Tracking and Data Acquisition Network (STADAN) ground stations.

Explorer-31 was launched from Vandenberg Air Force Base by a Thor Agena-B rocket, riding piggy-back with its Canadian ISIS-X counterpart, Alouette-2. This satellite has been developed by the Canadian Defence Research Board-Defence Research Telecommunications Establishment, as part of the same programme under which Canada’s first satellite, Alouette-1 was launched back in September 1962. This second Alouette has been developed from the original Alouette-1 back-up satellite, although it has more experiments and is a more sophisticated satellite than its predecessor. The name “Alouette” (skylark) comes from that popular French-Canadian folk song that I think everyone knows, even if they have never learned French.


Photos of Alouette-2 and Explorer-31 are hard to find, but they are reasonably well depicted on this souvenir cover marking their joint launch. It's lucky my Uncle Ernie goes to so much effort to build his space philately collection

At 323lb, Alouette is much larger than Explorer-31, but the two satellites have been placed in near identical orbits so that their data can complement each other. Alouette-2 is designed to explore the ionosphere using the technique of ‘topside sounding’, which determines ion concentration within the ionosphere by taking measurements from above the ionosphere. Alouette-1 was also a topside sounder. The satellite is carrying five instruments, three of which utilise two very long dipole antennae (one is 240ft, the other 75ft long). Alouette 2 also has no onboard data recorder and downloads its data when passing over stations in NASA’s STADAN network.

Luna-8-Fourth Time Unlucky!

Despite its early lunar exploration triumphs with Luna-1, 2 and 3 (which we in the West nicknamed “Lunik”, to match with Sputnik), the USSR has not had much success since with its Moon program. USSR’s Luna-8 probe, launched on 3 December, was the Soviet Union’s fourth attempt to soft-land a spacecraft on the lunar surface this year. Being able to land safely on the Moon is a technique that both the United States and the Soviet Union need to master in order to successfully accomplish a manned lunar landing later this decade. Two of this year’s attempts, Luna-5 and Luna-7, crashed while attempting to land. Luna 6 went off course and missed the Moon, flying by at 99,000 miles.

Luna-8, intended to land in the Oceanus Procellarum (Ocean of Storms), also failed in its mission yesterday. According to TASS, the “probe’s soft-landing system worked normally through all stages except the final touch-down”. It looks like Luna-8 has followed Luna-7 in crashing on the Moon. Let’s see if Russia has better luck with Luna 9!

Gemini 7-Settling in for a Long Haul

Just a day after Luna-8, the latest mission in NASA’s Gemini program, Gemini-7 was launched on what is planned to be a two-week endurance mission, that will include a rendezvous with the Gemini-6 spacecraft. I’m not going to write about this mission, as one of my colleagues here will do that later this month, but I couldn’t sign off on this article without mentioning the latest addition to the impressive list of spacecraft launched in the past few weeks. The Space Race is really speeding up!






[November 22, 1965] Keep on Exploring (Explorer-29 and 30 and Venera-2 and 3)


by Kaye Dee

November has been a busy month in space exploration with two new missions in NASA’s ongoing series of Explorer scientific satellites, and two spacecraft bound for Venus, launched by the Soviet Union. Let's get stuck right in and see why 1965 continues to be an amazing year for the space race.

GEOS is Go!

NASA’s Explorer series keeps on producing fascinating new scientific missions that help us discover as much about the Earth as they do about space. November’s first Explorer satellite, designated Explorer 29, also goes by the name of Geodetic Earth Orbiting Satellite (GEOS)-1 or GEOS-A. It is the first successful active spacecraft in the United States’ National Geodetic Satellite Program, and more are expected to follow.


NASA illustration of GEOS-1/Explorer-29 in orbit

Geodesy is the science of accurately measuring and understanding Earth's geometric shape, its orientation in space and the shape and characteristics of its gravitational field. You could say that passive satellite geodesy began with Vanguard-1, back in 1958, when scientists used the perturbations in its orbit to determine that the Earth is actually slightly pear-shaped, not quite that round ball we see in science fiction movies (though you'd have to have really sharp eyes to notice the difference!)

Satellite geodesy has come a long way in seven years and GOES-1 is carrying a suite of instruments that are designed to operate simultaneously, so that the data from each can be combined to give a highly accurate location for a point on the surface of the Earth. These instruments include four optical beacons, laser reflectors, Doppler beacons, and a range and range rate transponder. GEOS-1 also carries a SECOR transponder, the same type as used by satellites in the US Army’s satellite geodesy program, so that it can also contribute to that program’s research.


This US Army SECOR satellite bears an interesting resemblance to the Naval Research Laboratory's SOLRAD-8, as well as sharing a transponder type with GEOS-1

The objective is to use the data from all of Explorer-29’s instruments to precisely locate a series of observation points (or geodetic control stations) in a three dimensional “Earth centre-of-mass” coordinate system within 10 m of accuracy. These precision locations will help to improve the accuracy of cartography, surveying, and satellite navigation using the TRANSIT satellites.

GEOS-1’s instruments will also help in defining the structure of the earth's irregular gravitational field and refining the locations and magnitudes of the large gravity anomalies that have so far been detected. The various instrument systems will be compared with each other to determine which is the most accurate and reliable.

Explorer-29/GEOS-1 was launched from Cape Canaveral on 6 November (US time), on the first flight of the new Delta E launcher. Powered by solar cells, GEOS-1 uses gravity-gradient stabilisation, a relatively new technique that was first successfully tested on satellite 1963-22A, launched in June 1963. GEOS-1’s range and range rate transponder is tracked by NASA’s STADAN (Space Tracking and Data Acquisition Network) stations, including Carnarvon in Western Australia and the newly-operational station (just last month) at Orroral Valley, near Australia’s capital, Canberra.


NASA's new STADAN tracking station near Canberra tracks scientific satellites including the Explorer series – whatever alternate names they are known by

Satellite for a Quiet Sun

Explorer-29 was followed just two weeks later by Explorer-30, which also goes by the names of SOLRAD-8 and Solar Explorer-A (SE-A). The SOLRAD (short for Solar Radiation) program began in 1960, with the aim of providing continuous coverage of the wavelengths of solar radiation that can't be observed from Earth's surface. SOLRAD is a project of the Naval Research Laboratory and grew out of its earlier Vanguard program. Most of the earlier SOLRAD satellites have been launched piggy-back with other satellites (which, rumour has it, were of a classified nature), but SOLRAD-8 is the first to be launched as part of NASA’s Explorer program.

SOLRAD-8 is part of International Quiet Sun Year program, which is studying the upper atmosphere and the space environment during the Solar minimum, the least energetic time in the Sun's 11 year activity cycle. The data gathered during this period can then be compared with information obtained during the International Geophysical Year, when the Sun was at its most active.


The Naval Research Laboratory's SOLRAD-8 will help us to better understand the differences in the space environment between periods of maximum and minimum solar activity

Launched on November 19 by a Scout X-4 rocket from NASA’s Wallops Island facility, SOLRAD-8 is composed of two 24-inch aluminium hemispheres, with an equatorial ‘belt’ carrying 14 X-ray and Ultra-violet photometers. The satellite weighs 125 pounds and is powered by six solar panels. SOLRAD-8 is the first satellite to use a new type of miniature gas thruster, firing ammonia, to stabilise itself with its spin axis perpendicular to the Sun. It transmits data back to Earth in real time, using a FM/AM telemetry system that is recorded at NASA’s STADAN network stations.

Will we Lift the Veil of Venus This Time?

Venus has proved to be a difficult planet to explore. Only one space probe so far, NASA’s Mariner-2 in 1962, arrived safely at the planet and returned data which indicated that Venus was molten hot, shattering all those tales of a ‘jungle Venus’ or a planet of island dotted oceans, like ERB’s Amtor. But this month, the Soviet Union is making another attempt to visit our mysterious ‘sister’ planet and pierce its veil of clouds.


Official pictures released by the Soviet Union showing Venera-2 (top) and Venera-3 (below). The slight difference between the design of the two space probes is a hint that they might have different missions when they arrive at Venus

Not one, but two spacecraft are on their way to Venus: Venera-2, launched 12 November, was quickly – and much to the West’s surprise – followed only four days later by Venera-3. Both spacecraft were launched from the USSR’s Baikonur Cosmodrome and seem to be safely on their way. It is assumed that the Soviet Union has launched a pair of space probes so that, as with NASA’s Mariner-3 and 4, if one fails the other might still succeed in sending back data to Earth. However, TASS has said that the two probes have slightly different equipment, so some of my colleagues at the WRE have suggested that perhaps the Russians are trying something bolder with this twin mission: maybe one probe will perform a flyby past Venus and the other will either try to go into orbit – or maybe even impact on the planet’s surface. That would be a really exciting achievement: I can’t wait to learn what exciting information these spacecraft will send back to earth in a few months’ time!






[October 14, 1965] Taking a Deep Dive (the SEALAB project)


by Kaye Dee


The SEALAB II habitat on the dockside ready for its official launching ceremony

In my article at the end of August about the Gemini 5 mission, I mentioned the unique phone call that Gemini 5 commander Gordon Coper made from space to his fellow Mercury astronaut Scott Carpenter, who was working aboard the SEALAB II experimental underwater habitat. Carpenter is the first astronaut to also serve as an aquanaut, and the two roles are clearly related, since they both involve operations in dangerous, barely explored environments, isolated in small, confined craft. Since the third (and last) crew in SEALAB II has just completed their undersea mission, I thought it would be interesting to look at the SEALAB programme this month.

Getting Saturated

The SEALABs have been developed by the United States Navy to research the technique of saturated diving and enable a better understanding of the psychological and physiological stresses that affect people living in confined isolation for extended periods of time. This research into long-duration isolation is obviously relevant to space exploration as well as undersea activities.

Saturation diving is a technique that reduces the risk of decompression sickness (“the bends”) for divers working at great depths. If a diver breathes inert gasses, while in an environment pressurised to match the intended depth of a dive, the body will become saturated with the gasses, reaching a state of equilibrium once the blood and body tissues have absorbed all they can. Once this occurs, a diver’s decompression time will be the same whether he stays underwater for hours, days, weeks, or even months. This means that if a diver lives in a suitably pressurised habitat, he can work underwater for long periods and only have to undergo decompression once, at the end of his assignment.

The Genesis of SEALAB

SEALAB has its origins in a research programme by Captain George F. Bond, a US Navy physician. In 1957, Dr. Bond began Project Genesis at the Naval Submarine Medical Research Laboratory in Connecticut with the aim of demonstrating that divers could withstand prolonged exposure to different breathing gases at multi-atmosphere pressures. The first two phases of Project Genesis were carried out in 1957 and '58. This involved exposing animals, including rats, goats and monkeys to saturation using a variety of breathing gasses. Dr. Bond happened to meet Jacques Cousteau, the famous French oceanographer, when he gave a talk about the concept of saturation diving in 1957 and the two men became good friends. They co-operated on their diving research, and Cousteau even contributed some ideas to SEALAB II.


"Papa Topside", Dr. George F. Bond, (left) on the SEALAB I support ship with Argus Island in the background

NASA Keeps the Research Going

Despite his promising results, the Navy was not interested in funding the human trials that Dr. Bond needed to progress his research. Then, in 1962, NASA stepped in and funded the human research programme because it was interested in using a mixed -gas spacecraft atmosphere (either nitrogen-oxygen or helium-oxygen) for the Apollo programme – although it has now decided to use a simpler low-pressure oxygen atmosphere for the Apollo spacecraft, despite its potential fire danger.

Between 1962 and 1963, Capt. Bond, with the help of three volunteer divers, experimented with varying gas mixtures of oxygen, nitrogen and helium. One volunteer, Chief Quartermaster Robert A. (“Bob”) Barth took part in all these experiments and went on to become a member of the crews of SEALAB I and II.

"Papa Topside" and SEALAB I

By 1963, Capt. Bond’s team had collected enough data for the Navy to initiate its “Man in the Sea” programme, which would include an experimental habitat, dubbed SEALAB. Dr. Bond serves as the Senior Medical Officer and principal investigator of the SEALAB programme. The SEALAB I crew nicknamed him “Papa Topside”, for being always available on the support ship that kept station above the undersea habitat.

SEALAB I was a cigar-shaped chamber, 40 feet long and 10 feet in diameter. It was constructed from two converted steel floats and held in place with axles from railway cars. The lab had two portholes on each side and two open manholes in the bottom, but water didn’t enter because the pressure inside the chamber was the same as the surrounding water. SEALAB I used a helium-oxygen atmosphere that caused its crew to develop funny, squeaky voices that made them sound like a garbled Alvin the Chipmunk! The habitat was linked to its surface support ship by a Submersible Decompression Chamber, that served as a lift (elevator) between the two. Cables carried electricity, compressed gas, fresh water, communications, and atmosphere sampling lines between SEALAB and the support ship.


The quarters were pretty cramped and uncomfortable on board SEALAB I

First tested in the waters off Panama City, Florida, SEALAB I was lowered to 193ft into the Gulf of Mexico. It was then moved 26 miles southwest of Bermuda and lowered to a depth of 192ft, beside a US Navy research tower named “Argus Island”.

SEALAB I was both a habitability study and an experiment in developing safe decompression procedures for saturation diving. It had a crew of four aquanauts, including former experimental subject Bob Barth. They began their submerged sojourn on 20 July 1964, which was intended to last three weeks. The team investigated the effects of nitrogen narcosis on cognition, tried out the characteristics of the new “Neoprene” foam wet suit and performed many other performed physical and biological experiments. These included using ultrasonic beacons, current meters, and an anti-shark cage, as well as attempting to grow plants in the helium atmosphere.

Unfortunately, the SEALAB I mission had to be aborted after 11 days, due to an approaching hurricane. The support ship attempted to lift the habitat by crane from the ocean floor while slowly decompressing the divers (rising 1 foot every 20 minutes), but the churning sea caused the habitat to sway dangerously back and forth. As a result, the crew were transferred from the habitat to a small emergency decompression chamber and brought to the surface within minutes. 


An amazing underwater shot of the emergency decompression chamber coming to the rescue of the SEALAB I crew

Despite being cut short, SEALAB I was a major success, testing and proving the concept of saturation diving. Many lessons learned from SEALAB I would be applied in the development of its successor-SEALAB II. This included better solutions for raising and lowering the habitat (after two early attempts that dropped it!), lower humidity, improved umbilicals, and a reduction in the gear the divers needed to wear and store in the habitat. A helium voice unscrambler was also developed to improve communications with the aquanauts, because the changes that the gas made in their voices made them almost unintelligible.


The crew of SEALAB I with Mercury astronaut Scott Carpenter, who had originally planned to join their team. (left to right) Gunner's Mate First Class Lester E. Anderson; Lieutenant Robert E. Thompson; Astronaut M. Scott Carpenter, Chief Hospital Corpsman Sanders W. Manning; Chief Quartermaster Robert A. Barth

SEALAB II

SEALAB II is a big advance on its predecessor. Constructed in a naval dockyard in California, it is 57 feet long and 12 feet in diameter, with a small “conning tower”: I’ve heard someone describe it as looking like a “railway tank car, without the wheels”. It has eleven viewing ports and two exits. SEALAB II is also much better equipped, with hot showers, a built-in toilet (I wonder what they used on SEALAB I?), laboratory equipment and a fridge. The gas mixture used onboard is 77-78%helium, 18% nitrogen, and 3-5% oxygen at a pressure of 103 psi, which is seven times that of Earth's atmosphere! SEALAB I found that helium chilled the habitat uncomfortably, so SEALAB II has been fitted with heating coils in the deck to combat the cold. Air conditioning has also been included in this habitat, to reduces the humidity.

A new support ship was provided for SEALAB II, equipped with a Deck Decompression Chamber and a Pressurised Transfer Capsule, used to transport the aquanauts from the surface to the habitat. And, of course, Papa Topside was there, presiding over the experiment.


Inside the Tiltin' Hilton. This team photo of the first SEALAB II crew pokes fun at the habitat's slight tilt. Team leader Scott Carpenter is in the centre of the photo.

In August 1965, the habitat was placed at a depth of 205 feet in the La Jolla Canyon off the coast of California. The location has earned it the nickname of the "Tiltin' Hilton" because it was placed on a sloped part of the ocean floor, giving it a six-degree tilt and a slight cant to port. The first SEALAB II crew, consisting of 10 divers, swam down to the habitat to take up residence on August 28. One of those divers was Mercury astronaut M. Scott Carpenter, who has joined the SEALAB program on leave from NASA.

Astronaut Aquanaut

Carpenter became interested in the SEALAB program after meeting Jacques Cousteau in 1963. He originally planned to be a member of the SEALAB I crew, but was injured in a motorcycle accident during training and so was unable to participate in that experiment. But he became the commander of the first two teams to use SEALAB II, spending 30 days living on the ocean floor. SEALAB II has hosted three crews of ten men, each of 15 days duration. Altogether 28 divers occupied SEALAB II between August 28 and October 10, with Carpenter and Bob Barth both part of two crews.


Originally a Naval aviator, then an astronaut, now Scott Carpenter has added to his resume as the team leader of the first two SEALAB II crews

The SEALAB programme seems to have been a bit jinxed for Carpenter: his right index finger was wounded by the toxic spines of a scorpion fish. In addition to his conversation with Gemini 5, soon after his arrival on SEALAB II, during his time in decompression at the end of his mission, Carpenter also took part in another special telephone call, this time from President Lyndon Johnson. Since Carpenter was calling from a decompression chamber with a helium-oxygen atmosphere, his "chipmunk voice" was almost unintelligible as a helium voice unscrambler was not available! 

The cold water off the Californian coast has been a real test for the aquanauts, along with poor underwater visibility. Even with its heating coils and air conditioning, SEALAB II still experienced high humidity and cold, with the temperature having to be raised to 86°F to ward off the chill. Nevertheless, the aquanauts conducted many physiological experiments and tasks, including testing new tools, methods of salvage and trying out an experimental electrically heated drysuit.

Dolphin Delivery

The Navy Marine Mammal Program also supported SEALAB II, assigning one of its bottlenose dolphins, named Tuffy, to assist the SEALAB crews. Tuffy’s Navy trainers attempted to teach the dolphin useful skills, such as delivering supplies from the surface to SEALAB, or carrying items from one aquanaut to another. Tuffy was apparently not up to the standard of that famous TV dolphin, Flipper, but I’ve heard that he will also be assigned to the SEALAB III mission when that takes place, so the Navy must have been happy enough with his performance.


Tuffy the Navy dolphin, at work during the SEALAB II programme. Wonder if he'll get a TV series of his own some day?

Third time continues the charm?

The third, and last, crew to serve on SEALAB II departed the habitat on October 10, marking the conclusion of a very successful experimental programme. SEALAB I and II have been a resounding success and the knowledge gained from these expeditions will certainly help to improve the techniques of saturation diving and, consequently, the safety of deep-sea diving and rescue. I’ll be watching the future SEALAB III mission, when it arrives, with interest!






[September 8, 1965] Still a Stranger in a Strange Land (THE STRANGER SERIES 2, AUSTRALIAN TV SF)


by Kaye Dee

Back in April, I wrote about The Stranger, Australia’s first locally-produced science fiction television show. The second series completed its run on the Australian Broadcasting Commission (ABC) in late July, so this month I wanted to look at how the story of the Soshunites and their Earthly friends has played out across six new episodes.

The new series of The Stranger opens with the same credits sequence and eerie theme music, although the otherworldy script used for the title has been slightly modified for series two

The ABC Takes Another Chance

When the first series came to its dramatic conclusion, the Soshunites had been granted permission by the United Nations to leave Soshuniss, their moon-turned-spaceship, and settle on Earth. This could have been a suitably happy ending for the story. However, after taking an initial gamble with producing a children’s science fiction adventure for television, the ABC decided on a second bold step. The ratings success of The Stranger, and its popularity with adult audiences, encouraged the national broadcaster to refocus the new series towards an older age group, with a significantly larger budget and a prestigious family audience timeslot at 7.30pm on a Sunday night, making it Australia’s first locally-made prime-time science fiction series.

With Mr. G. K. Saunders again writing the script, all the original cast and production crew have returned for a story that is considerably more complex than the earlier series, involving international politics, intrigue and a ruthless business mogul planning to exploit the Soshunites’ arrival on Earth for his own profit.

Episode 1

Broadcast on Sunday 20 June, the opening episode of series two picks up immediately after the events at the end of the previous series: in fact, together the episodes could be considered a two-part story. The UN’s decision to allow the Soshunites to settle on Earth has been prematurely leaked to the press by a US Senator. Panic ensues, with newspaper headlines proclaiming that an alien invasion is imminent.

In Australia, Soshunite emissaries Adam Suisse (whose Soshunian name, we now know, is Sinsi) and Varossa await the return of Prof. Mayer, who has been acting on behalf of Soshuniss at the UN. Suddenly, the home of their hosts, the Walsh family, comes under siege by the press and television crews. Seeking to protect the aliens, Col. Nash, the Security chief, confines them in Adam’s former home on the grounds of St Michael’s School, with a police guard. While Nash has so far been friendly, his attitude begins to change when Adam, rankled by what he sees as imprisonment (he clearly doesn’t understand the persistence of newshounds!), informs him that there has been a change of leadership on Soshuniss.

In one of Mr, Saunders’ characteristics twists, the female Soshun, whose policy was that her people would only settle on Earth if invited, has been replaced by a new male leader. This new Soshun is determined to establish his people on Earth, and when Adam says he agrees with this policy, Nash begins to suspect that perhaps the Soshunites are not as peaceful as they have portrayed themselves up till now.

The hypnotic stare of a Soshunite pilot as he uses his mind-control abilities to kidnap Peter Cannon!

Meanwhile, Peter Cannon, one of the three teenage children who befriended Adam and the Soshunites in series one, secretly uses Adam’s space radio to contact Soshuniss, trying to advise the Soshun of the situation. Unaware of the change in leadership, when a Soshunian spacecraft arrives Peter approaches it. The pilot then induces him to board the ship using the Soshunites’ mind-control abilities…

Episode 2

In New York, Prof. Mayer receives a visit from Rudolph Lindenberger, the world’s richest man. (Imagine, he claims to be a billionaire! And even though a US billion is considerably less than a British billion-that’s still a fantastical amount of money to be anyone’s personal fortune). Lindenberger tries to persuade Mayer that, as an American, he must use his influence with the aliens to ensure that their scientific knowledge is handed over to the United States. Mayer believes that Lindenberger is a misguided patriot, but his son Edward smells a con and believes Lindenberger is looking to line his own pockets.

Arriving on Soshuniss, Peter is taken to the new Soshun and learns that the Soshunites are now desperate to land on Earth because their computers have determined that there is no other suitable planet that they can reach. The Soshun tells Peter that his people have a powerful weapon that will be used if they are not given permission to land. With Adam and Varossa still on Earth, Peter has been kidnapped to be held as a hostage to ensure their safety.

Lindenberger's aide, Blake, tries to pump Edward Mayer for information about the Soshunites as they fly to Australia

Once Mayer and his son, Edward, arrive in Australia, plans are made to move Adam and Varossa to the Parkes Radio Telescope, in country New South Wales, which will be turned into a space communications facility. Joining them, will be the Mayers and teenagers Bernie and Jean Walsh. Along with Peter, these are all the people who have been to Soshuniss. This will keep them safe from the reporters, but is there another motive?

Adam has now decided that he does not trust Nash. Using their mind-control powers, he and Varossa subdue their police guards and escape. Varossa is shot and captured by another police officer, but Adam jumps into Nash’s car and uses his hypnotic ability to make the driver obey his will.

Episode 3

Varossa is in hospital, recovering from his wounds, although Nash keeps this secret from Mayer and the Walshes. The Security chief discovers that no-one can remember anything after being under the Soshunites’ mind control, including Nash’s driver: Adam has disappeared, his whereabouts unknown. Nash proceeds with his plan to move everyone else to Parkes. Although they evade the pursuing newshounds, Lindenberg’s henchman, Blake, realises where they must be heading. Adam, too, is also travelling to the vicinity of Parkes.

The Parkes Radio Telescope is Australia's most significant scientific instrument and the largest fully-steerable radio telescope in the world. It features in the opening credits of both series of The Stranger and plays a prominent role in series two. A pity the Soshunites destroy it in Episode 5!

Visiting the General Manager of his Australian subsidiaries, Lindenberg reveals that his plan is to make sure that the Soshunites are settled somewhere under his control. He intends to exploit their advanced knowledge to generate huge profits for his businesses – “in the billions”! Edward Mayer was right to distrust his motives.

On Soshuniss, the Soshun decides to demonstrate the Soshunites’ advanced knowledge. Peter is placed under mind control and forced to write a letter to the Prime Minister of Australia. His arrival in Canberra from Soshuniss, it says, will be proof of the power of the Soshunites. Meanwhile, Nash and the others have now arrived at the radio telescope, which is searching the skies for signals from Soshuniss in orbit. As the episode ends, they think they have found it!

Searching for Soshuniss. Professor Mayer joins senior telescope operator Dr. Scott in the control room of the Parkes Radio Telescope

Episode 4

With Soshuniss located, Mayer learns that there is a plan to “fit Moon rockets [presumably American] with nuclear warheads” if no peaceful agreement can be reached with the Soshunites. Meanwhile, Jean has experienced a strange dream that Adam wants her to collect a letter from the post office in a village not far from Parkes. Convinced it is a telepathic message from the Soshunite, Jean escapes secretly from the living quarters at the radio telescope and retrieves the letter. Unfortunately, Lindenberg’s assistant, Blake, who has now arrived in Parkes, manages to tail Jean, and overhears when she calls the boys to tell them where Adam is hiding.

When the three teens reach his hideout, they realise that Nash has been less than truthful, as they know nothing about Varossa’s shooting when Adam enquires about him. Adam asks the youngsters to bring him his radio, which has been brought to the telescope’s lab for study, so that he can contact a Soshunian spacecraft. Blake has been eavesdropping and phones Lindenberg with the news. The ruthless businessman immediately flies to one of his company properties near Parkes.

Even though Adam hides in an old country showground, the persistent Blake manages to track him down

Mayer, as yet unaware there is a new, militaristic Soshun, tries to convince Nash that the Soshunites are completely peaceful. However, his arguments are destroyed when Peter is discovered in a deep coma, of a type unknown to Earthly medicine, in the private Members Courtyard at Parliament House. A threatening letter from the Soshun to the Prime Minister is clutched in his hand, delivering an ultimatum: Earth must allow the Soshunites to land, or they will use their weapon.

Meanwhile, Jean, Bernie and Edward take a risk and enlist Mayer’s help to retrieve Adam’s communication device. Mayer is shocked to learn that, as with the information about the new Soshun, Nash did not inform him that Varossa was shot and captured.

Episode 5

As Mayer attempts to obtain the Soshunian radio, one of Lindenberg’s henchmen tries to steal it at gunpoint from the radio telescope’s lab. In the ensuing confusion, Bernie manages to grab the device and races up the through the telescope building chased by Blake. Desperate to escape, he climbs up onto the telescope’s antenna and makes his way precariously across the dish surface, still pursued by Blake. Suddenly the antenna begins to tilt alarmingly, and they both begin to slide.

The radio telescope operators have realised Bernie is in danger and moved the antenna so that he can slide safely down the surface of the steeply tilting dish and leap off as its rim nears the ground. Blake on the other hand, is left clinging for his life on the elevated side of the antenna. Dr. Scott, the senior telescope operator, then sneaks down to the lab and coshes the gunman holding Mayer and the others at bay. The radio telescope personnel help Blake down from the dish, but he and the gunman escape. Like Mayer, Edward and Jean, Blake follows after Bernie, who is already on his way to Adam with the space radio. Meanwhile, Bernie and Jean’s father has arrived at the telescope, after hearing news of Peter’s mysterious appearance in Canberra.

Hanging on for dear life! Lindenberger's henchman, Blake, clings to the tilted dish of the Parkes radio telescope during his pursuit of Bernie. This scene was actually filmed on the telescope

Mayer tells Adam what has happened to Peter and the three teens are shocked at this ruthless move by the Soshun. Mayer also decides to divulge the secret information about the plans to attack Soshuniss with nuclear weapons. To persuade the Soshun that the scientific community and most people on Earth are of goodwill and would welcome the Soshunites, Mayer offers to travel to Soshuniss on the spacecraft that is coming to collect Adam, to act as a human shield for the Soshunites.

Blake secretly records this conversation. When Lindenburg hears it, fearing the collapse of his plans to exploit the Soshunites, he devises a new strategy. Blake will kidnap Adam and transport him to a private island owned by Lindenberg, off the east coast of Australia. It has facilities large enough to house the entire Soshunian population (numbering just 300). Adam will be persuaded to invite the Soshunites to settle there in secret, so that they will be safely away from Soshuniss if it is attacked – and completely under Lindenberg’s control.

As revenge against Mayer for not falling in originally with his plans, Lindenberg also decides to use Blake’s recording to convince Nash that the professor is a traitor who has betrayed the Earth’s defence plans.

Nash’s Security team, Blake and his henchman, Walsh and the Soshunian spacecraft all arrive at Adam’s hideout at the same time and chaos ensues. Blake kidnaps Adam, who escapes using his hypnotic powers. Nash shoots Mayer in the leg to stop him boarding the Soshunian spacecraft, which hastily departs without either Mayer or Adam.

Episode 6

The final episode of the series is action-packed! Thinking Adam safe, the youngsters have returned to the radio telescope, but Nash arrests Adam, Mayer and Walsh. As they stop at Lindenberg’s farm for medical assistance to the professor, it becomes clear that the Security chief no longer trusts the businessman and now suspects his motives. Mayer persuades Walsh to escape and make a dash to Canberra. He must convince the Prime Minister that the threat from the Soshun is real. If the Soshunites are refused permission to settle, they will crash their moon-ship into the Earth: this is their weapon! Since they will be condemned to a lingering death wandering in space if they cannot land, they have nothing to lose.

Nash takes Adam to the radio telescope, where Bernie, Jean and Edward are now also under house arrest. When Adam realises that the antenna is being used to track Soshuniss so that it can be targetted by the nuclear-armed rockets, he secretly radios the Soshun. High-powered signals from Soshuniss destroy the telescope’s control system, rendering it useless.

Following Walsh’s meeting with the Prime Minister and the destruction of the radio telescope, Nash, Adam and Mayer are summoned to a meeting in Canberra. Dr. Kamutsa, the UN Secretary General’s personal representative, has also arrived. The Prime Minister has astutely realised that the current situation with Soshuniss has arisen from confusion since the initial information leak. He wishes to send Dr. Kamutsa to Soshuniss to discuss a “peaceful and harmonious” resolution and indicates that he already has a search underway for an area in Australia where the Soshunites can settle. 

When Adam contacts the Soshun, the leader insists that Bernie, Jean and Edward, whom he trusts, be sent to Soshuniss as emissaries and hostages, to demonstrate the good faith of the Earth. It is eventually agreed that Dr. Kamutsa will accompany the children as an advisor and they are all transported to Soshuniss. 

Upon arrival, Jean uses a ploy to persuade the Soshun to send medical aid to Peter, who is still in hospital in a coma. The Soshunite leader agrees and negotiations begin. Meanwhile Lindenberger makes a final attempt to gain control of the Soshunites, by publicly offering his private island as their new home – to which he will have access as the owner. However, Mayer and the Prime Minister adroitly outmanoeuvre the businessman, who is trapped into donating his island freely to the Australian Government: it is then placed under UN administration as the Soshunites’ new home.

Welcome to Earth. The Lord Mayor of Sydney formally welcomes the Soshun and his entourage to the Earth and Australia in front of Sydney Town Hall

With a resolution to the Shonunite’s desire to settle on Earth, and Varossa and Peter now out of hospital, Mayer reveals to Adam that he deliberately overplayed the Soshunite threat to crash their world into the Earth: he knew that Earth’s gravity would actually break up the spaceship-moon before it could strike the planet. Adam confesses in turn that the Soshunite’s strategy was all a tremendous bluff. Not only did they know that Soshuniss would be unable to destroy the Earth, they were so lacking in power that they were, in fact, unable to break the spaceship-moon out of its orbit around the Earth. The Soshunites would have died in orbit if their gambit failed and they were prevented from settling on our planet.

The story ends with a grand civic reception at the Sydney Town Hall, in which the Soshun and his people are welcomed to the Earth and Australia. In the final scene, Adam and Varossa depart from the steps of the Town Hall in a small Soshunian spacecraft, flying across Sydney Harbour and out to sea – towards their new home….

A Successful Transition

To judge from its ratings and the generally positive response from the television critics, the ABC should be satisfied that its experiment in prime-time science fiction television has paid off. Certainly, my sister’s family were engrossed, and even though I detected a few holes in the plot and more than a few holes in the science, I give Mr. Saunders full credit for creating a complex, multi-faceted story that turned the children’s adventure of the first series into an exciting family thriller. The story built and maintained its tension and air of uncertainty well, especially with the mistrust created by the multiple twists of Mayer’s bluff and Soshunites’ desperate double bluff. It also included moments of wry Australian humour to appeal to adult audiences, with jibes at bureaucrats and politicians, the military mindset, big business and even our “great and powerful friend”, the United States.

War of the Worlds! The fear of an alien invasion that generates tension in series two of The Stranger is highlighted in this preview article in TV Times

This series’ switch from the juvenile to family/adult category certainly gave more scope for the storyline, enabling it to move beyond the purely Australian focus of series one, to a more international outlook. Particularly interesting is the inclusion of the character of Dr. Kumatsa, a black African diplomat (played by American Negro actor Mr. Ronne Arnold, who has recently decided to live in Australia) as a representation of the role that the newly independent nations of Africa may one day play in the world.

Location, Location, Location

The noticeably higher budget for the second series, enabled producer Mr. Storry Walton to indulge his love of location filming. The Canberra scenes were filmed in Parliament House itself. Prime Minister Menzies even gave his personal permission for the scenes involving the Australian Prime Minister (played with suitable gravitas by veteran Australian actor Chips Rafferty) to be filmed in the private Prime Ministerial offices. Similar official approval was granted for filming at the Sydney Town Hall, which required the construction of a mock-up Soshunian spacecraft at the top of the forecourt staircase, as part of excellent special effects sequences showing the arrival of the Soshun and departure of Adam and Varossa to inspect the Soshunites’ new home.

Flying saucer lands at Sydney Town Hall! The imposing entrance to this iconic Sydney building is transformed into a set for location filming in the final episode of The Stranger

Various other outdoor scenes were filmed around Sydney, the Blue Mountains and Parkes, but ironically, the situation with the Walsh home was reversed. Although the original scenes of Headmaster Walsh’s house in the first series were filmed at a private home, to minimise disruption to the generous owners the house was faithfully replicated in a studio for the remainder of series one and series two. 

The Commonwealth Scientific and Industrial Research Organisation (CSIRO) also gave unprecedented co-operation, presumably in return for the undoubted publicity it provides for the agency. The chase across the Parkes radio telescope in Episode 5 took place, not on a studio set, but on the telescope itself, which was manoeuvred as required for the filming. Actors playing the roles of telescope staff were even permitted to be filmed at the actual controls of the multi-million pound instrument. As with the first series, the CSIRO also provided general scientific advice to the production, which even found its way into some of the dialogue with reasonable accuracy.

The Future?

The sale of the first series to the BBC means that those of you in Britain should be seeing it within the next twelve months, and a sale of the series to the US is also nearing finalisation. While the second series has drawn the story of the Soshunites’ search for a new home to a satisfying conclusion, the ending still leaves open the possibility of a third series. It would be interesting to see how our alien friends cope with the challenges of living in, and adapting to, a new world. I guess only time will tell if the ABC decides to take on another challenge with science fiction television.