Canadarm And Collaboration

Elizabeth Howell

Description

Canada is a small but mighty power in space exploration. After providing the Canadarm robotic arm for the space shuttle in 1981, Canada received an invitation to start an astronaut program a program that quickly let its people accumulate skill and prestige. Canadian astronauts have since commanded the International Space Station, flown as co-pilots on spacecraft, and even held senior roles within NASA.

Sujets

• Sciences et techniques
• Astronomy

Informations

• Publié par: Ecw Press
• Date de parution: 22 octobre 2020
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781773056272
• Langue: English

Extrait

Canadarm and Collaboration
How Canada’s Astronauts and Space Robots Explore New Worlds
Elizabeth Howell, foreword by David Williams, M.D.





Contents Foreword by Dave Williams, M.D. Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Epilogue Author’s Note Endnotes Prologue Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Epilogue Acknowledgements Photos About the Author Copyright


Foreword
by Dave Williams, M.D.
In the distance was the beautiful blue oasis of the planet Earth cast against the black infinite void of space. It was a moment of a lifetime, riding on the end of an icon of Canadian technology, the Canadarm2, with the Canadian flag on my shoulder. I felt immense pride in being able to follow in the footsteps of past Canadian space pioneers on a path to space that would be pursued by the next generation of Canadians in space. There is no question that Canada is a major spacefaring nation. After the spacewalk, one of the crew floated over to share a thought: “Dave, we in the international program truly understand the space station is just the base for the Canadarm.” The wry humour brought a smile to my face.
Exploration is a central part of Canadian history, and certainly a passion to push boundaries in aerospace is part of our legacy. As director of the NASA Johnson Space Center’s Space and Life Sciences Directorate, I had a shelf in my office called the “making the impossible possible” shelf. On it there were two items. A model of the Avro Arrow was featured prominently. It sat in the centre of the shelf beside a photograph from one of my team members, David McKay, that showed an image obtained by a scanning electron micrograph from a Martian meteorite found in the Antarctic. The black-and-white image revealed chain-like structures that resembled bacterial organisms, suggesting that life may have once existed on another planet in our solar system. The image and associated scientific data caused considerable controversy in the scientific community; for me, what that image represented warranted inclusion on the shelf. The Arrow model had to be there. It would have stood alone on the shelf were it not for the amazing photograph. Many speculate on what would have happened if the Arrow had transitioned to full operational status. The photo made everyone who saw it speculate on another topic: one of the most fundamental remaining scientific questions, whether life exists or has existed elsewhere in our solar system.
The Arrow is remarkable for many reasons, notwithstanding the fact that the cancellation of the project resulted in a group of very talented Canadian aerospace engineers leaving Canada to help kick-start NASA’s first human spaceflights. They all played critical roles that enabled the agency to achieve the goal of sending humans to the moon and back by the end of the decade. The third country to send a satellite to space, Canada has been part of space exploration from the beginning.
Many have dreamed of the possibility of human space exploration. The visionary Russian space pioneer Konstantin Tsiolkovsky once said, “The Earth is the cradle of humanity, but mankind cannot stay in the cradle forever.” He and Robert Goddard are widely attributed with describing the principles of modern rocketry that underlie human space travel. It is not so widely known that William Leitch, the fifth principal of Queen’s University, described the principles of rocketry and human spaceflight in an 1861 article entitled “A Journey Through Space.” Four years before Jules Verne wrote From the Earth to the Moon , six years before Confederation and nearly 40 years before Tsiolkovsky’s and Goddard’s work, a Canadian scientist had described modern space travel. “We might, with such a machine, transcend the boundaries of our globe, and visit other orbs.” Had this discovery been made before 1998, I would have had Leitch’s photograph on my shelf as well, but it wasn’t until 2015 that Canadian space historian Robert Godwin would discover the original publication. It is clear, though, that Canada is well deserving of the title “major spacefaring nation.”
Occasionally Canadians can be understated in acknowledging the global impact of Canadian contributions to space exploration. Yet ours is a story to celebrate. It is a story of visionary scientific and engineering teamwork, a story of pushing the edge of the envelope by incredibly talented scientists, aerospace engineers, researchers, physicians and astronauts. It is a story that I am proud to have dreamed about, studied and lived as a physician, Canadian astronaut, scientist and senior executive at NASA. It is a story that continues to unfold as we set sights beyond the International Space Station in low Earth orbit to the Moon and ultimately to Mars. It is the story of humans pursuing their destiny as a spacefaring species, reaching out to other destinations in our solar system.
Elizabeth Howell is one of the few Canadian scientific journalists to write extensively about space exploration. She brings a unique perspective and true passion to sharing our history exploring space. It’s all there. From the Arrow program through Mercury, Gemini and Apollo, the legacy of the Canadian space pioneers captures the reader’s attention. The early days of the Canadarm leading to the hiring of the first group of astronauts solidified our international reputation for excellence in space robotics and human space exploration. Describing the continued evolution through the shuttle program years to the era of the International Space Station with multiple astronaut flights, complex robotic operations, technically demanding research missions and Canadians in key leadership roles at NASA, Canadarm and Collaboration: How Canada’s Astronauts and Space Robots Explore New Worlds gives Canadians fantastic insights into programs that are part of our history as well as the foundation for our international reputation as a leader in the utilization and exploration of space. It is a book that I couldn’t put down — in part for the memories that resurfaced while reading it, but primarily for the pride I felt to be one small part of the amazing group of Canadians who made the impossible possible. For anyone interested in space exploration, it is a must-read.
David R. Williams OC OOnt MD CM
Canadian Astronaut STS-90, STS-118
Bestselling author of Defying Limits .


Prologue
Sing to me of the man, Muse, the man of twists and turns, driven time and again off course.
— Homer, The Odyssey (translated by Robert Fagles, 1996)
Nightmares about a rocket abort woke me up early on a cold Kazakhstan morning in December.
I clearly saw the scenario on this historic launch day: Canadian astronaut David Saint-Jacques saluting the Russian commission in his spacesuit, moments after saying goodbye to his three small children and physician wife. His cold bus ride to the launch pad at Baikonur, sitting alongside his two crewmates. A final wave to colleagues and friends gathered at the foot of the rocket.
A flawless liftoff to the International Space Station, marred by a sudden vibration. Saint-Jacques, in the left-hand pilot’s seat, would scan the abnormal readouts on the console. Either he — or Russian commander Oleg Kononenko — would speak with Russia’s mission control calmly, scientifically, even as their abort system pulled them violently towards Earth.
“Two minutes and 45 seconds,” they would say in Russian as they read the elapsed time since their rocket lifted off. They would report “the emergency, the failure of the booster” as the abort system took over. And they would keep astronaut-ing all the way down to the ground, doing everything possible to keep the spacecraft from crashing into the Kazakh Steppe.
It wasn’t just conjecture haunting my dreams; this is what had happened to an American and a Russian during an abort less than two months before, on O ct. 11, 2018. They arrived back safely, and the abort system worked flawlessly, but it was scary as hell to watch on NASA Television. 1
Here’s how NASA astronaut N ick Hague, who occupied the left-hand seat on that failed mission, later described his feelings as alarms blared and the spacecraft suddenly went weightless: “There’s a little bit of disbelief,” he told NASA. “It hasn’t happened in 35 years, so that was a bit surprising.” 2
I lost sleep over the possibility of rocket failure, yet Hague manifested pure calm when faced with it in real-time. Why?
“My career in the [United States] Air Force has done a lot to help me prepare for stressful situations like this, whether it’s through deployments or my time in flight test, where we had to deal with failures in aircraft that you’re in and having to get down on the ground immediately,” he added. “You really end up falling back to your training . . . Over my two decades in the Air Force, I’ve learned that in those situations, the best thing that you can do is stay calm and do what you’ve been trained to do.”
After the abort, the Russians had put together a group of experts, the S tate Commission, which is usually chaired by a very senior-level Russian space agency (R oscosmos) manager. “They’ll bring in all of the relevant entities and evaluate what went wrong,” s aid C had Rowe, NASA’s director of human spaceflight programs in Russia, of the typical role of the State Commission. Rowe helps coordinate much of the day-to-day work of NASA employees in Moscow and Kazakhstan, assisted by an able group of interpreters when they interface with Russian technical staff. 3