Booster recovery

A special water cannon salute welcomed the NASA tow ship Liberty Star as it cruised into Port Canaveral on a hot Sunday afternoon with the Shuttle's right solid rocket booster in tow. We watched and took pictures from Jetty Pier alongside fishermen and hundreds of onlookers as the giant 'sea slug' slid past.

The twin reusable solid rocket boosters helped propel Atlantis on the 135th and final Space Shuttle flight and after each launch the boosters are recovered in the ocean after being jettisoned some two minutes into the flight.

The water canon tribute was put on specially to mark the end of the programme - but the sister ship Freedom Star missed out on the special welcome after suffering engine problems at sea which meant it only arrived back into port under cover of darkness at around midnight.

NASA and manufacturer ATK off-load boosters at Hangar AF at Cape Canaveral Air Force Station. There, the boosters are put in stands and engineers and technicians make certain they are safe for workers to handle.

Initial post-flight inspections are done and then the boosters receive the ultimate pressure-washing - a 'hydrolasing' process that removes thermal protection system foam from the rockets.

For all Shuttle missions the various segments of each booster are recombined in different configurations. The specific combination was kind of special for STS-135 as the boosters included segments from Shuttle flight, STS-26 (the first return-to-flight after the Challenger tragedy), STS-71 (Atlantis’ first docking to the Mir space station), STS-101 (Atlantis’ first ISS docking), STS-114 (the second return-to-flight after the loss of Columbia).

By around 2 pm on Sunday afternoon most of the media who had been photographing the first SRB coming in from the open sea at Jetty Park were encamped in the ‘Fish Lips’ ocean front restaurant for welcome refreshment.

Myself, Andy Green and Japanese journalist Kanoko Nakashima had not long joined them and just ordered our burgers when there was a sudden scramble from the others to pay and go.

Liberty Star, with the booster now firmly lashed alongside, had appeared in the channel right below the balcony where we were all sitting on its way to the Canaveral lock and the final stage of its journey home.

We elected to remain and eat our meal, with the knowledge that we’d likely get the chance to see the second booster’s trip through the lock gates, which separate the salty Atlantic from the freshwater Banana river, later or the next day.

To the sightseers and photographers at the lock all seemed to have gone according to plan. The first booster was delivered to ATK and the second would now make the journey early on Monday morning.

It was only when Andy and I arrived at the lock gates around 7 am the next day and started chatting to lock leader Michael Mannhardt that we learned the back end of the first booster had  hit the side of the lock and been damaged as it was manoeuvred out.

This morning the rest of the media were waiting further up to first catch shots of the combination as it approached the lock system through a lifting road bridge, so we'd had an exlcusive first insight into what had happened.

Mike told us that the accident was due to a sand bar caused by the deep water drop off at the lock exit which, although it had recently been excavated from eight to 13 feet, could still present a problem to some vessels.

As a result - and because the Freedom Star with the second booster was carrying excess fuel which made it lower in the water - NASA decided to instigate a small boat ‘handover’ instead.

Freedom Star would bring the booster into the top end of the lock and then the booster would be detached and towed through and out of the other end by three Zodiac inflatable and passed to Liberty Star.

Though the exercise was not unique in the history of the Shuttle programme it made for a much  more dramatic finale and photo opportunity for this normally straight forward aspect of recovery.

Big boys don't cry

A delay of a few seconds between a live event and it being broadcast on the TV is normally neither here nor there. But in this case timing was crucial.

For Spaceflight writer Dwayne Day it proved rather more significant, as he explained to me later in the day. He had flown in from Washington and was at Cocoa Beach watching the launch on TV in a friend’s apartment.

The idea was to dash to the outside balcony at the moment the countdown hit zero. As the engines fired on the TV screen he rushed outside, only to see the distant Shuttle already climbing well above the pad!

Watching a Space Shuttle launch is always an emotional experience - but especially so when it is the last one ever in the 30 year history of the programme.

NASA managers at the post-launch media briefing were visibly moved and there was spontaneous and heartfelt applause for the two ‘Mikes’ - Mike Lienbach, Shuttle launch director, and Mike Moses, Shuttle integration manager - as they entered the press room some 90 minutes after liftoff.

When asked about his feelings Mike Moses (left) admitted that he was normally ‘choked’ up after a launch. This time, he said, it was before blastoff.

"It looked like it was lifting off in slow motion," he said. "It was very moving, very beautiful."

After the launch was over we stood around to reflect on the moment. For everyone it was a shared experience. We patted backs and shook hands with friends we had come to know and work with over the years.

For the tightly knit launch team the fun was over too. They lingered in the firing room after the successful launch, exchanging hugs and pats on the back and taking photos together.

"We will never see that again," Mike Leinbach and a colleague remarked to each other. "It was a special moment."

"It seemed like we didn't want to leave," he added. "It was like the end of a party and you just don't want to go."

A jewel of brightness

If there could be a downside to standing near the countdown clock at KSC to witness a launch from the closest point possible - a fraction over three miles - then it is because they no longer broadcast the launch commentary over the PA system.

There are probably good reasons, like the fact that it would upset all the TV companies doing their live broadcasts from the back of the site.

So, we have only the countdown clock as our means of assessing the state of progress and to mark the passage of time towards launch.

When 00:08:59 suddenly appears after the final scheduled ‘hold’ at t-minus nine minutes you know things are getting closer to the grande finale.

There’s excited chatter and people begin shouting out the numbers as the time clicks closer to zero - two minutes and counting, one minute... The excitement and tension is spilling out.

And then we stare in disbelief. Just as it seemed Atlantis had beaten the odds the countdown clock freezes. Cries of dismay - what can have happened at such a late stage? Surely that’s today’s launch attempt over?

Indeed, as the seconds ticked into long minutes some people even started retreating from their spots thinking that it really was all over for today at least.

Out there we had no way of knowing what was happening. No announcements to the assembled crowd - instead of the roar of the mighty engines all remained silent.

Of course, those watching round the world on NASA TV knew that mission control was unsure whether the ‘beanie cap’ that covers the top of the giant orange external tank had properly retracted.

Sounds crazy when you are at the actual launch site but I quickly dialled up home 4000 miles away in England where my wife was glued to NASA’s broadcast.

"It’s a problem with the beanie cap," she quickly explained and then, "but it’s been sorted and they are going!" With that the countdown clock burst to life again, resolutely marking off the last 30 seconds.

Smoke billowed from the pad and at first the Shuttle rose in silence. Then the crackling of its engines comes rumbling across, transforming into a noise that shakes the ground and rocks through your whole body.

Rising majestically one final time, Atlantis spread her wings and powered into the sky with what is understood to have been one million people watching from every available viewpoint in this part of Florida.

The orbiter climbed on a blinding column of fire from the same pad that launched Columbia in 1981 on the very first Shuttle flight, a rippling roar emanating from its main engines and boosters as spectators everywhere cheered, clapped and cried.

The flame was brighter than anything you can manage, almost too piercing to look at in real life - a jewel of brightness climbing into the heavens.

Though it didn't take long for Atlantis to disappear through the clouds, it left a lasting impression for those on the ground.

Even after it reached orbit some eight minutes after liftoff the billowing trail of smoke and steam it left behind maintained a steady link between the launch complex and cloud deck, as if holding on to the last departing Shuttle.

My 'automated' snaps turned out surprisingly well and some of them are added above along with (below) an official NASA shot of the KSC crowd, in which I can be spotted in the foreground if you know exactly where to look.

Atlantis spreads its wings

Just experienced history in the making - a once (and last) in a lifetime event. It will take a while to sink in, hence I am posting my thoughts and impressions in the days afterwards.

Friday morning 10.30 am. It was getting hotter by the minute as the clouds scattered over Kennedy Space Center, like curtains unveiling a giant stage for one last drama. The forecast showers hadn’t materialised and controllers in the ‘firing room' gave the ‘go' for ascent after a positive poll from their ground teams.

In reality the weather was just good enough for launch – based on some additional acceptance on the forecasted conditions at the nearby Shuttle Landing Facility had a Return To Landing Site abort been required.

But then the countdown clock dramatically stopped at T-31 seconds, just prior to the final automatic sequence. This was based on a lack of an indication that the‘beanie cap’, technically known as the GOX Vent Arm, had properly retracted and latched from the top of the external tank.

We were told in the post-launch briefing that this is something engineers were aware could happen but were still surprised it showed during an actual launch countdown.

Thankfully, the Firing Room teams were prepared. In three long minutes they ran through a pre-determined procedure to verify the arm was retracted and latched using a closed circuit camera.

As the countdown resumed - with only 58 seconds left of the launch window - launch director Mike Leinbach told the Atlantis crew - Chris Ferguson, Doug Hurley, Sandy Magnus and Rex Walheim - to "have a little fun up there" with "a true American icon".

Rocket roll

Excitement and anticipation at the press site mounted as the minutes towards countdown rolled back and it looked as if the cloud cover might thin out just in time.

Now to choose a spot and set up the camera tripod. I wasn’t really here to take photos but if the cameras were pointing in the right direction they could do their business unattended while I viewed the launch unencumbered. And at least I would have some of my own pictures of the moment too.

I wanted to shoot a general view of liftoff with the amassed crowd in the foreground, along with the famous countdown clock and flag - my Nikon D70 was mounted atop the tripod for still views and a Fuji compact for movie footage was wrapped around the stem using a mini Gorillapod.

Astronomy and space lecturer Andy Green, from Cambridge in the UK, was just behind me and to the side was Steven Kates, known as ‘Dr Sky’, a TV and radio broadcaster in the US with a mission to ‘educate and entertain the world on all that is in the sky’. This was his first live launch and he kept us entertained with live pre-launch reports and commentaries.

As I’d left before the crack of dawn without any breakfast and we still had an hour or so of the countdown to go so there was time to visit the legendary NASA Snack Mobile parked amongst the US TV outside broadcast wagons, with their giant satellite dishes and bright logos.

 

The Snack Mobile looks like it has been around since the days of Apollo and, it being NASA, you kind of hope it might sell some kind of magical space food.

Adding to its mystique is the fact that the van only ever appears on launch days - so its future appearances now seem even more restricted, at least in the near term.

Entry is through the back and once inside you can select hot snacks from stainless steel pull-out drawers and drinks from a chiller before paying the lady sitting in the driver’s seat at the front.

Rather than fancy astronaut food I settled for a burger in a soft bun and an ice cold can of Sprite. The food was actually quite tasty (or maybe I was just so hungry). But that is not what really counts - more the fact that you’ve actually stepped inside and made a purchase from the famed NASA Snack Mobile.

 

 

 

It's a beautiful day

Thirty years and 135 missions after its debut, NASA got down to the business of launching a Space Shuttle for the final time this morning.

It was a privilege to be amongst the 1,350 media representatives from around the world who had descended en masse - many to witness a launch for the first time - for this history-making occasion.

My day started with a 4.30 am wake up call, which was at exactly the same time the four astronauts were woken in their quarters at KSC for breakfast and to begin their preparations.

It was still dark and the air heavy and humid as I started the 35 minute drive from downtown Cocoa Beach towards the space centre.

Traffic was already heavy and vehicles of all shapes and sizes were beginning to congregate on the roadsides to reserve distant views across the Banana River to the launch site for their bleary-eyed occupants. With up to a million visitors expected, many had ‘camped’ overnight to reserve their spot.

As well as the normal security gate a second advance checkpoint had been instigated on the approach to the KSC perimeter and by 6 am cars were backing up in both lanes, cop cars and trucks parked alongside adding to a sense of occasion with their blue flashing lights cutting through the dark.

There had already been a few spits of rain as the first light of dawn began appearing through a crack in the dark overnight clouds - and with it came a glimmer of hope that it might just clear enough in a few hours’ time to get Atlantis off the pad.

For much of the week, and particularly with yesterday’s torrential rain and thunderstorms, a launch had been thought highly unlikely today with only a 30 percent chance of the weather being acceptable.

I arrived at the press site in the nick of time for another security check, this time with an army trained sniffer dog, as four NASA coaches lined up to take a elite group of mainly photographers to witness the traditional crew walkout.

We had less than an hour to wait behind a barrier for the astronauts, clad in their distinctive orange flight suits, to make their brief appearance. Many of the regular photographers position small step ladders to get an elevated view of the heads of others.

The photographers are joined by other guests and onlookers as the time for walkout draws nearer and the sense of excitement and anticipation is heightened when a military helicopter begins circling overhead.

Word comes that the astronauts are in the elevator and then a huge cheer goes up as the four - Chris Ferguson, Doug Hurley, Sandy Magnus and Rex Walheim appear from behind the silver Astrobus. They wave and pose before climbing onboard for the 15 minute journey to Pad 39A.

The crowd begins to disperse and I glimpse a familiar face - Nichelle Nichols, known to millions around the world as ‘Uhura’, the communications officer on Enterprise in the original Star Trek series.

With three hours to go before launch we head back to the press site. Overhead the cloud ceiling seems a little higher than before and some small breaks have appeared here and there.

Despite the previous day’s dire predictions maybe it had been a good call to proceed with the overnight tanking of Atlantis. The Florida weather can be as fickle as anywhere.

Tears in the rain

Torrential rain, thunder and lightening made for an atrocious day at Kennedy Space Center today. Rain doused the Space Shuttle orbiter and two lightning bolts struck on or nearby the launch pad.

Officials said a preliminary assessment found no major problems or systems affected and while additional data reviews were planned, engineers did not expect to need any time-consuming system re-tests.

Forecasters predicted a 70 percent chance of stormy weather triggering a launch delay tomorrow, though the forecast improves slightly to 60 percent ‘no go’ Saturday and then to 40 percent on Sunday.

"Weather is not looking good for launch," shuttle weather officer Kathy Winters told reporters during a morning briefing.

"As you can see outside, the clouds have rolled in, we're starting to see some showers. We even had a thunderstorm show up this morning. So we are expecting more of this for the next couple of days."

The appalling conditions didn’t prevent NASA going ahead with the retraction of the Rotating Service Structure protecting Atlantis on launch pad 39A. It began rolling back at 2:38 pm, about 30 minutes later than planned.

Rain was pounding KSC at the time and a couple of hundred media photographers, including myself, were drenched as we waited in the open for security checks before being bused out to the launch pad to see the Shuttle.

With temperatures in the mid-80s Fahrenheit it was steamy and humid as we viewed Atlantis from the crawler-way which leads up to the launch pad. As well as the media the mosquitos were out in force.

A three hour tanking operation to fill the giant external tank with fuel was scheduled to begin at 2 am Friday morning after an assessment of the weather conditions by mission managers.