FLIGHT DAY 3
As the scheduled end of the sleep period approached, Cliff Charlesworth, now in charge, decided that since the crew were sleeping soundly and there was nothing on the flight plan requiring urgent attention they should be left in peace. An hour later, telemetry indicated that the astronauts were stirring. Armstrong and Aldrin had slept for 8 hours, and Collins for 9 hours – consistent with the early retirement and late awakening.
‘‘Apollo 11, this is Houston,’’ McCandless called.
‘‘Good morning, Houston,’’ Aldrin replied promptly. ‘‘How do all our systems look?’’
“They’re looking great, and as far as we can tell everything is good from down here.’’
‘‘It looks like the attitude held up really well during PTC last night,’’ observed Aldrin. The spin axis had remained within 10 degrees of the ideal perpendicular to the ecliptic, providing excellent thermal control.
‘‘How’s the Green Team this morning?’’ Collins enquired.
‘‘It was a very quiet night. The Black Team is complaining that they didn’t get a chance to make any transmissions. Ron Evans is getting to be known as the silent CapCom.’’
‘‘That’s the best kind, Bruce,’’ Collins teased.
‘‘Okay,’’ chuckled McCandless. The banter over, he launched straight into the flight plan updates, the most important of which was the cancellation of midcourse correction 3 at 54 hours. ‘‘At 53 hours we have a P52. We’re requesting that you do this while in PTC, and we plan to continue PTC throughout the day.’’ However, one of the first chores of the day – dumping the unwanted water produced by the fuel cells – imparted an impulse that perturbed the roll. ‘‘We’re showing you about 20 degrees out in pitch right now and about 6 degrees in yaw,’’ McCandless called 30 minutes later. ‘‘That’s a little more than twice as much as the deviation you had prior to the waste-water dump. We’ll watch it down here, and let you know if we believe any corrective action is required.’’
“Maybe next time we ought to split that in half,’’ Aldrin suggested. “Put half of it on one side and half on the other, or something like that.’’
“We could do that,’’ McCandless agreed. “We’re actually interested in seeing what the effect on PTC is of this waste-water dump. We don’t recall ever having performed a waste-water dump during PTC on previous missions.’’ In other words, a chore had transformed into an engineering experiment, with the data being filed for future reference. “We’ve been working under the assumption that it would take an hour for a water dump to dissipate to the point where you could reasonably take star sightings for platform alignment, navigation, or something of this sort. If you have a spare minute or two, could you comment on observation conditions, now?’’
“My guess,’’ Collins replied after looking, “would be the telescope’s probably pretty useless, but you can differentiate in the sextant between water droplets and stars by the difference in their motions.’’ But he had not been using the telescope very often. “With the LM attached, the telescope is just about useless because the Sun bounces off its structure. Those star charts that the mission planning and analysis division people provided us, I think, would be most useful if for some reason we had to mark through the telescope – we could use those as a guide for what we’re looking at and say, ‘Well, that bright blob over there must be such and such a star because that’s the position we’re in’. But so far we haven’t been able to pick out any decent star patterns [using the telescope].’’
After two hours of sparse interaction between Apollo 11 and Mission Control, McCandless announced, ‘‘I’ve got the morning news here if you’re interested.’’
‘‘Yes, we sure are,’’ Collins replied.
‘‘Interest in Apollo 11 continues at a high level,’’ McCandless assured, ‘‘but a competing interest in the Houston area is the easing of watering rules. Mayor Louie Welch has promised to lift lawn-watering restrictions if the rains continue. Today is partially cloudy, with a 30-per-cent chance of thunderstorms in the afternoon. In Washington, the Senate Finance Committee has approved extension of the income tax surtax, but a Senate vote on the bill currently seems remote. In Austin, State Representative Ray Lemmon of Houston has been nominated as the National Director of the American Society for Oceanography. Lemmon has proposed a study of the possibility of establishing an institute of oceanography in Texas. This would be the first such institute on the western Gulf of Mexico. In Minneapolis, Minnesota, the weather bureau, after recapping today’s weather showing a high of 88 and a low of 72, has noted ‘snowfall: none’. From St Petersburg, Florida, comes a radio report from the Norwegian explorer, Thor Heyerdahl, which points out that the crew of his papyrus boat, the Ra, will sail into Bridgetown, Barbados, despite damage from heavy seas. The crew, however, are sleeping on their escort vessel. Norman Baker, navigator of the expedition, said the crew was aboard the Ra today repairing damage from storms this week that split the footing of the mast. Part of the broken mast was jettisoned overboard. The vessel is now 725 miles east of the Barbados. ‘It is possible but uncomfortable to sleep aboard the Ra,’ Baker said. ‘But the purpose of our voyage is not a test of strength or human endurance.’ That’s the reason the crew was spending nights on the escort vessel Shenandoah, which rendezvoused with the Ra on Tuesday.’’ In his sports roundup, McCandless related the story of an Irishman, John Coyle, who won the world’s porridge-eating championship by consuming 23 bowls of instant oatmeal in a 10-minute time period from a field of 35 other competitors.
“I’d like to enter Aldrin in the oatmeal eating contest next time,’’ Collins said.
“Is he pretty good at that?’’ McCandless asked.
“He’s doing his share up here,’’ Collins confirmed.
“Let’s see. You all just finished a meal not long ago, too, didn’t you?’’
“I’m still eating,’’ Aldrin pointed out.
“He’s on his 19th bowl!’’ Collins joked.
“Are you having any difficulties with gas in the food bags, like the Apollo 10 crew reported?’’
“That’s intermittently affirmative, Bruce,’’ Collins replied. “We have these two hydrogen gas filters that work fine as long as you don’t actually hook them up to a food bag. But the entry way into the food bag gives enough back pressure to cause the filters to lose efficiency. A couple of times, I have been tempted to go through that drying out procedure, but we found that simply by leaving the filters alone for several hours their efficiency seems to be restored – it ranges anywhere from darn near perfect to terrible, just depending on the individual characteristics of the food bags. Some bags are so crimped near the entry that there is no way to work them loose to prevent back pressure.’’ The gas separator comprised two stainless steel cylinders about 5 inches long and a little over 1 inch in diameter, attached to the water dispenser. These contained two filters, one to attract water and the other to repel it, in the process removing the gas. The design had been modified after the Apollo 10 crew had reported problems, but it evidently required additional work. The ingested hydrogen gave rise to what Collins would later describe as “gross flatulence in the lower bowel, resulting in a not-so-subtle and pervasive aroma’’ reminiscent of “a mixture of wet dog and marsh gas’’. Aldrin would later jest that by the time they were on their way home they were suffering so badly that if the RCS thrusters were to have failed they would have been able to provide manual attitude control!
The first version of the flight plan had envisaged the tunnel remaining sealed until in lunar orbit. Aldrin, however, had successfully argued for an inspection of the LM during the translunar coast, since if the rigours of launch had so damaged that vehicle as to render it unusable it would be best to discover this sooner rather than later. However, as a result of the mass limit imposed on the design of the LM, it could accommodate only six chemical storage batteries, which in turn limited the total electrical power supply, with the result that at this point in the flight it would not be feasible to power it up to transmit telemetry to enable Houston to check its systems. Nevertheless, an early entry would enable Aldrin to make a start on chores such as removing and stowing protective covers.
Six hours into the day, McCandless asked whether they were still intending to take the camera into the LM to televise this inspection.
“If the cord lengths work out all right,’’ Armstrong confirmed.
In view of the growing instability of the roll axis, and the fact that PTC would have to be halted for the telecast, Charlesworth decided that they should go ahead and adopt an attitude in which the high-gain antenna could readily be maintained facing Earth.
“When you work up an attitude for the high-gain, is there any way we could get partial Sun in one of the two LM front windows?” Aldrin asked.
“We’ll have a look at it,” McCandless promised. Several minutes later he relayed, “We recommend stopping PTC at 054:45:00; this should put you at just about the right roll angle to give you Earth in window 1 of the command module, aim the high – gain antenna for television, and put the Sun on the forward hatch of the LM. If you take down the window shades, you should get some sunlight in.’’
While Collins made the manoeuvre, the Green Team handed over to the White Team, and Charlie Duke took over as CapCom.
The telecast was not expected to start until 056:20, or 4.52 pm in Houston, but at 055:10 Apollo 11 began to transmit. “They’re getting television at Goldstone,’’ Duke announced. “We’re not quite configured for it here, but we should be up in a couple of minutes.’’
“This is just for free,’’ Collins explained. “This isn’t what we had in mind.’’
They had decided to enable Houston to watch the tunnel being opened. Aldrin was operating the camera. Collins had just removed the apex hatch and was in the process of stowing it in a bag beneath the left-hand couch. After Armstrong made a preliminary inspection of the probe assembly using a torch, Collins entered the tunnel to release the mechanism by repeatedly cycling its ratchet handle. If it had failed to release, there was a toolkit with which to dismantle it. As the astronauts were not providing running commentary, Duke made occasional observations, but because his remarks ran 12 seconds ‘late’ owing to the time it took to convert the picture this sometimes gave rise to confusion. ‘‘It’s a pretty good show here,’’ he began. ‘‘It looks like you’ve almost got the probe out.’’
‘‘Can you see that?’’ Armstrong asked. ‘‘There isn’t much light up in there, just the tunnel lights.’’
‘‘Roger, Neil. It’s really good.’’
‘‘It’s coming down,’’ Armstrong said, as Collins pulled the bulky mechanism of interconnected rods from the tunnel.
‘‘It looks like it’s a little bit easier than doing that in the chamber,’’ noted Duke. The mechanism was heavy on Earth, and as part of their training they had removed the probe in an altitude chamber.
‘‘You have to take it easy,’’ Collins observed. The probe was weightless, but it still had inertia.
‘‘Mike must have done a smooth job in that docking,’’ Armstrong announced, ‘‘because there isn’t a dent or a mark on the probe.’’ They used elasticated cords to stow the mechanism by the wall at the foot of the couch. The conical drogue was stowed alongside the probe. With the picture lagging so far behind the audio, Duke experienced a sense of deja vu in which he listened to the astronauts describing an action in real-time, and then waited to watch them do it.
Mike Collins in a CM similator prepares to open the apex hatch. |
Collins re-entered the tunnel and checked an indicator that showed the angular offset between the two docking collars; the fact that this was only two degrees was a tribute to his skill in performing the docking.
“It looks like we’ll be ready to go into the LM early, if that’s okay with y’all down there,” Armstrong said. They were about 40 minutes ahead of the time line.
“Go ahead any time you wish,’’ Duke replied.
Aldrin passed the camera to Armstrong, entered the tunnel, turned the handle on the hatch and hinged it inwards into the LM, activating the cabin lights. For this inspection, the LM would draw power from the CSM. Armstrong returned the camera to Aldrin, who pointed it into the other craft to display items of equipment in stowage on the floor of the cabin ‘above’ him.
“Buzz, are you already in?’’ Duke asked.
‘‘I’m halfway in.’’ Having never seen the LM from this perspective in training, Aldrin was momentarily disoriented. ‘‘I’d better turn around, I guess.’’ By making a half somersault to restore his frame of reference, he immediately felt at home in the cramped cabin. He would later report this to have been the strangest sensation of the mission. Although in the LM, he was on a communications umbilical running back through the tunnel into the command module. Because the mass limit on the LM precluded the use of panelling, the wire bundles and plumbing were largely exposed. The hull interior had been sprayed with a dull-grey fire-resistant coating. The front and sides carried a mass of switches, circuit breakers and instruments. The walls were very thin in places, but were not required to carry structural loads – they were only a pressure shell against the vacuum of space. Although the shades were over the main windows, sunlight diffused through, providing a low level of illumination. Aldrin pointed the camera back down the tunnel to show Armstrong at the far end, with Collins behind him, watching.
‘‘Hey, that’s a great shot,’’ Duke said. ‘‘I guess that’s Neil and Mike – it better be, anyway!’’
Armstrong entered the tunnel to hold the camera, to enable Aldrin to make a start on his inspection. ‘‘I’ll open up the windows to see what the lighting’s going to be like,’’ Aldrin announced. He pulled the shades, first from the right and then the left window, then donned his sunglasses.
‘‘The lighting is superb!’’ Duke exclaimed.
Armstrong made his first contribution. ‘‘Yes, the lighting in the LM is very nice now, just like completely daylight; and everything is visible.’’
‘‘The vehicle is surprisingly free of any debris floating around,’’ said Aldrin. ‘‘It’s very clean.’’ In fact, during his inspection he would discover only one ‘lost’ washer floating adrift. After inspecting the miscellaneous stowed equipment, he tested the LM’s telescope, mounted near the roof in the centre of the front panel, noting that when he looked ‘up’ he could see the shiny surface of the command module. Meanwhile, Armstrong rotated the camera to point down the tunnel to show Collins poking through an oxygen umbilical with which to ventilate the LM’s cabin. Then Aldrin took the camera and pointed it through the narrow overhead window to show one of the forward-looking windows of the command module. ‘‘Charlie, can you see Mike staring out the window?’’ The view was indistinct because there were so many
layers of glass, but when Collins put his head up close to the window his face became apparent.
“We see him staring back at us,” Duke confirmed.
At the scheduled start time for the telecast, the networks picked up the feed. “Your show is going out to the US now,” Duke announced. “We’re about to get the satellite up and then it will go ‘live’ to Japan, western Europe, and much of South America.’’ Aldrin was installing the bracket to the top-right corner of his window on which he was to mount a Maurer camera to document Armstrong’s descent of the ladder at the start of the moonwalk. Next, he installed another bracket midway along a horizontal bar across the window for later photography.
While Aldrin worked, Armstrong zoomed in to show the instrument panel to the estimated audience of 200 million people. ‘‘That’s real good camera work,’’ Duke complimented.
‘‘It’s got to be the most unusual position a cameraman’s ever had, hanging by his toes from a tunnel and taking the picture upside-down,’’ said Aldrin, referring to Armstrong. Aldrin unstowed an assembly designed to fit over a ‘bubble’ helmet for extravehicular activity on the lunar surface, and demonstrated how its twin visors operated.
Armstrong then aimed the camera back down the tunnel. ‘‘Ah, that’s a good view of Mister Collins down there,’’ Duke said. ‘‘We finally see him again!’’
‘‘Hello there, Earthlings,’’ said Collins.
‘‘It’s like old home week, Charlie, to get back in the LM again,’’ Aldrin said to Duke.
‘‘I can imagine,’’ Duke agreed. ‘‘Is Collins going to go in and look around?’’
‘‘We’re willing to let him,’’ Armstrong replied, ‘‘but he hasn’t come up with the price of the ticket yet.’’
‘‘I’d advise him to keep his hands off the switches,’’ Duke warned Armstrong.
‘‘If I can get him to keep his hands off my DSKY,’’ Collins retorted, ‘‘it would be a fair swap.’’
On returning to the command module, Armstrong aimed the camera at Earth, now 177,000 nautical miles away. ‘‘We’re going to turn our television off now for a short bit while we do some other work. Apollo 11 signing off.’’
‘‘That was one of the greatest shows we’ve ever seen,’’ Duke complimented. It had lasted about 1 hour 36 minutes, during which time the spacecraft had travelled over 2,000 nautical miles.
Meanwhile, at home
Joan Aldrin had hosted an afternoon pool party. Pat Collins attended with her sister Ellie Golden. Jan Armstrong brought her sister Carolyn Trude. After the wives had appeared together for the press on the front lawn, they retreated to the swimming pool, joining Jeannie Bassett. The Collins children had been sent to a day camp, but the Armstrong and Aldrin children were present and played in the pool with Kurt Henize, son of Karl and Caroline Henize. Valerie Anders made a brief visit. Audrey Moon prepared snacks and Bob Moon served as a drinks waiter. At 4.30 pm Jan Armstrong and her sister set off for home. When Jan switched on the car radio she was surprised to hear that the telecast was already in progress. On reaching home, they found the house to be even busier, because their mother, Mrs C. G. Shearon of Pasadena, California, and their sister Nan Theissen and her husband Scotty had arrived. Jan watched what remained of the telecast. When Joan switched on her television she was delighted to see Buzz hogging the show. She noted, wryly, that he had gained more air time in this one transmission than she, a trained actress, had managed in her entire career! Pat Collins, who left the Aldrins’ at the same time as Jan Armstrong but did not promptly switch on her television, missed most of the telecast. All three wives were frustrated that their NASA minders had not alerted them to the change in schedule – if they had been told that the crew had started transmitting over an hour earlier than planned, they could have watched from the viewing gallery of the Mission Operations Control Room. Pat Collins successfully eluded the reporters to eat in a favourite restaurant named Rendezvous, but with so many guests Jan Armstrong phoned for a bulk pizza delivery.