Just a quick post to let you know that I’ve gained a place on the International Space University summer programme this year, and will thus be spending nine weeks on the space coast in Florida learning everything from orbital mechanics to space policy. The summer programme counts as the first module for the ISU Space Studies MSc which would be based in Strasbourg. I’ve also gained a place on that, but whilst I’ll put space ahead of most things, my Granny is almost 90 and I’m not sure I want to leave her for the rest of the year.
Excitingly it’s not only the 25th anniversary of the university, but also the 50th anniversary of the Kennedy Space Centre at Cape Canaveral. We will be spending our time between the Florida Institute of Technology and KSC, so I think that there should be some nice anniversary celebrations.
Getting to space university is not cheap, so it is with eternal gratefulness that I thank the UK Space Agency for the scholarship that they have offered me which will enable me to complete the summer programme. I must also extend heartfelt thanks to the European Space Agency for offering me a grant for the Masters course. I’d still need to find a few thousand Euro to enable me to take up my place on that, but it would be unthinkable without their generous support.
I’m super excited about meeting other people with a passion for space who will be coming from all around the world. I’m just itching to learn from their experiences and see what extra connections I can make at ISU. It’s going to be great!
Paolo Nespoli was the first astronaut I ever met, and as well being completely wide-eyed at the fact I was talking to an astronaut, I was also quickly won over by his easygoing style of communication. He didn’t make me feel silly for asking the same questions he must have answered at least one hundred times over. He gave honest, enthusiastic answers. I thought he was just great.
I’ve had the chance to meet him several times since then and he’s never failed to impress me.
He was a natural on Twitter, tweeting photos from space, engaging people, asking questions and being playful. He’s a natural in person too, speaking in a way that can’t fail to captivate you. He talks with a cheeky edge of humour, making space seem that bit more real and approachable, and with obvious passion for what he’s been doing in space. “I’m an engineer” he says, suggesting poets, musicians and writers may be better placed to explain the wonder of space. But I think he does a tremendous job. The incredible photos he’s taken, the way he brings space to life, the warmth of spirit and patience with all those people wanting photos, handshakes, autographs.
I’ve worked with all sorts of guests in my time in radio. Some sound bored, some nervous, others have been given a message from on high and dutifully read it out. It’s the ones that speak from the heart, that engage, that connect – those are the “gold dust” interviews. The ones that fill you with pride for getting the right person on air. The ones where you know your audience will be hanging in their cars just a moment longer so they don’t miss anything. Paolo Nespoli would be one of those gold-dust guests. I’d not hesitate to have him on air, and would encourage anyone who gets the chance, to go see him speak – especially if you’ve got kids. You will not be disappointed.
In the past few years we’ve celebrated 50 years since the first person, Russian cosmonaut Yuri Gagarin, made it to space, 50 years since the first American, Alan Shepherd followed suit and it’s even the 50th anniversary of the iconic space hub that is Kennedy Space Centre. But did you know that the UK is celebrating 50 years in space too?
If I’m honest, (and I like to think I am), I’d have to say that until this week I didn’t realise either, but now I’m uncovering the story I thought I’d share it with you.
50 years ago, the UK’s first satellite, rather charmingly named Ariel-1, after the sprite-like creature in Shakespeare’s The Tempest, was launched. This meant that the UK was only the third nation, after Russia and the US, to put something in orbit*.
That’s not the only reason the mission was special, it was also the first collaborative launch project. All but one of the experiments carried on Ariel-1 were from UK universities and NASA provided the launch vehicle.
The experiments were designed to study the ionosphere and its relationship with solar radiation. They included cosmic ray, solar emission and ionospheric experiments.
After a successful launch on 26th April 1962, Ariel-1 began sending data back to Earth. Ariel-1 was due to work for a year, but there is an unfortunate twist in the tale. In early July the satellite suffered radiation damage from a high-altitude nuclear test conducted by the US Airforce. Such was the power of the explosion, it temporarily created an additional radiation belt around the globe!
When news came in that Ariel-1 was“misbehaving” UK scientists tried to work out why. Even once the Americans came to the conclusion it was their experiment that had put Ariel-1 out of action they kept that knowledge to themselves. If fact it was only revealed when the US made a formal announcement, and they didn’t even talk to the UK about doing that!
Recently declassified government papers held in the National Archive confirm this, and are well worth look.
(For your convenience and listening pleasure I suggest that you listen to this special episode of the SpaceBoffins podcast since they have had highlights of the correspondence voiced up by actors).
There is some irony that it was the country we partnered with for our first satellite launch that was also responsible for its demise.
Ariel-1 struggled on, sporadically sending data back until finally being switched off in 1964. At the recent ‘UK in Space 50′ conference several of the original teams who worked on Ariel-1 and subsequent Ariel missions were present. They spoke about the importance of the data collected and how our involvement shaped the UK’s space science programme. Professor Peter Willmore, who actually worked on Ariel-1 concluded that “the encouragement it gave to instrument development was probably as important as the direct outcomes of the mission”.
* We’re only the sixth nation to put something in orbit using our own rocket. This occurred in 1971 when the satellite Prospero was successfully launched on the Black Arrow rocket, making it the first (and sadly last) UK satellite launched on a UK rocket.
I’m letting out a big sigh of relief. There’s a tear in my eye. I’m an emotional wreck!
Anton is home. Back on Earth. I watched his and his Soyuz crew undock from the international space station this morning, conduct their deorbit burn a couple of hours later, and just over half an hour ago, TMA22 touched down in Kazakhstan.
I blogged about the landing last night, it’s a very different thing to watch that when you know one of the people that’s headed back to Earth. It sounds like it was a textbook landing, with one of the Russian support crew members apparently commenting in broken English that “we nailed it”.
As the landing time drew nearer I became more conscious of my heartbeat, and experience a slight butterfly sensation. Then the first parachute opened and I started to feel a bit calmer. We were able to watch the Soyuz capsule via the live pictures on NASA TV.
I held my breath for those last few moments, and then they were down. They landed so precisely that it didn’t take long for the resuce crews to reach them. Anton Shkaplerov, Soyuz Commander, was first out of the capsule. They gently lifted him free of the vehicle and placed him in a special reclining chair with a Roscosmos blanket.
How did he look? Was he okay? I needed to know.
And then there it was. That Anton smile, with a little cheeky edge to it. He was home, he was smiling, I was smiling with him. He thanked his crew for their cooperation and seemed pleased with the landing. I’m so proud. I probably have no right to be proud whatsoever, but its the overwhelming feeling right now.
Anton’s home safe. I’m breathing a sigh of relief, smiling and wiping away a small tear, all at the same time. Welcome home my friend.
Anton, Dan and Anatoli what a journey you’ve had. Take it easy, you deserve a rest.
So here’s a sentence I never thought I’d honestly be able to write, and it’s not meant to sound boastful or anything, but…
I know a cosmonaut, and he’s currently in space.
I am even lucky enough to be on his “friends and family” list, which means that while he’s been in space, I’ve been able to email him, directly. Of course, the guidelines that came when I was informed I was on the list, were quick to point out that since my messages weren’t going to be screened I should be sure to think of his “psychological well-being”.
How’s about this for trivia, in space, astronauts have email addresses that only work while they’re on orbit! (And there was me all excited when I finally got a BBC email!)
Obviously, the guidelines, which also ask that I don’t forward any messages to a journalist (err..), mean I’m not going to say too much more about this, suffice to say that it was an incredible honour to be able to stay in touch with someone while they were living on the International Space Station. My 89-year old grandmother has been enjoying it too, since my cosmonaut friend, Anton Shkaplerov, sent her some greetings from space. “Oooooh!” she squeaked, “I can’t wait to boast to the WI about this!”.
My granny remembers Yuri Gagarin going up into space, and now she’s excited by another Russian in orbit. It’s truly wonderful.
Anyway, that’s not the point. The point is, that I know a cosmonaut, and he’s in space. Until tomorrow.
Tomorrow, Anton and his two crew-mates, will be undocking from the ISS, their home for the last six months, and heading back to Earth. They’ll travel back in their Soyuz capsule, landing in Kazakhstan at around 12.45pm UK time (if I’ve got my time-zone conversions right).
Astronauts have been coming back to Earth in Soyuz capsules for years. I’ve heard plenty of them explain how it differs from a shuttle landing. Let’s just say it’s a bit less gentle. It’s safe, in as much as anything in spaceflight is “safe”. It’s been done lots of times before. They won’t let them land if they perceive a problem. I know all that. But this isn’t just a Soyuz capsule landing. This isn’t even a Soyuz capsule with people in it. This is a Soyuz capsule with *my friend* Anton. My friend is going to come hurtling back to Earth tomorrow. My friend.
I’m scared.
I can’t help it. I care about people. Suddenly, space becomes very real. It’s like the moment I watched Paolo Nespoli begin his long-duration space adventure atop of a Soyuz rocket. For all the coolness of a rocket launch, suddenly it was my friend, sitting on top of an awful lot of rocket fuel, with someone (figuratively) about to light the touchpaper. It changes things. It makes them real.
Sometimes space is untouchable, magical, slightly unreal – I’m sure I’ve used this metaphor before, but space is like father Christmas – you know it exists, but you’ll never meet/touch it.
When you know someone in space, it all becomes more real. Of course it’s still magical, so magical that I’m overwhelmed and humbled every time I receive a message from space (- from actual space!). How incredible to share that adventure first hand.
But now Anton’s coming home. Gran will be sad not to be able to say “I’m nearly 90 you know, and I’ve got a friend in space”, and I am feeling nervous. I know it will be alright, but this is my friend. My friend is coming home from space tomorrow, and I can’t help but feel a bit on edge. Please wish him a safe flight (and non-ballistic landing).
Anton, fly safe, gravity awaits you with open arms.