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Final Flight

by Tom Jones 

The crew of the space shuttle Atlantis is in orbit this week on the orbiter’s 32nd and final mission, delivering the next-to-last component of the International Space Station (ISS). On May 18, the crew installed the Russian-built Rassvet module (or mini-research module -- MRM-1) to one of the ISS’s Earth-facing docking ports. Carried up in Atlantis’ cargo bay, Rassvet is a 23-foot long docking port and research lab, weighing almost 9 tons. NASA carried the module to orbit aboard Atlantis in exchange for U.S. cargo launched to the ISS aboard Russia’s Progress robot supply freighters.

The International Space Station soars 220 miles above the coast of Chile. Author Tom Jones' crew on the Atlantis, STS-98, took this image on Feb. 16, 2001. (NASA)

With the addition of Rassvet, about the size of a UPS truck, the International Space Station is 93 percent complete by mass and 98 percent complete by habitable volume. The orbiting complex spans more than a football field and currently weighs in at 816,349 pounds (in free-fall, of course, the ISS has inertia, but no weight). The six-person crew enjoys more than 29,500 cubic feet of pressurized volume, about the size of a five-bedroom house.

The ISS wasn’t that large when I visited on my last flight, aboard Atlantis on mission STS-98. Over the course of a week docked to the outpost, my crew teamed up with the first expedition crew (Expedition 23 is currently aboard) to install and activate the nerve center of ISS, the U.S. laboratory, Destiny. We added Destiny to the front end of the nascent Station’s 100-foot-long, submarine-like living and working quarters, growing the 3-person crew’s living space by about a third. The gleaming white, 8-by-8-foot interior aisle of Destiny provided luxurious elbow room for the first crew; the five of us visiting aboard Atlantis were just as grateful to spread out and enjoy our time as ISS “houseguests.”

Inside the cramped, sterile spaces of the space shuttle, and even in the more expansive, homey atmosphere of the ISS, my crew and I were entirely focused on the work of getting to orbit, docking with the Station, and the spacewalks required to get the new Lab up and running. Each 16-hour flight day was packed with tasks aimed at powering up life support systems, booting up control computers, starting the flow of coolant, and installing communication and safety systems. Our detailed flight plan charted each crewmember’s jobs, depicted graphically in precise, fifteen-minute blocks. I raced from shuttle to Station and back, the mental image of a stopwatch cracking the whip over each orbital moment.

On its final voyage, space shuttle Atlantis approaches the International Space Station. (NASA)

Time pressure peaked during our three spacewalks in the harsh vacuum of space, aimed at connecting Destiny’s power, computer, and cooling systems, and outfitting the Lab’s exterior for future expansion. During my nineteen-plus hours scrambling around the outpost’s handrails in my bulky, 200-pound spacesuit, my partner Bob Curbeam and I fought to stay ahead of our planned timeline. I was zeroed in so tightly on my assigned work that I barely glanced at the spectacular views outside my helmet. I focused on cables, handrails, the silvery hull of the new Lab, or the tools and equipment used in our work on the ISS.

Finally, on the third and last spacewalk, our work progressed smoothly, well ahead of schedule; the pressure was off in our final hours outside. After three years preparing for this challenge, I felt the welcome exhilaration of success. As I wrapped up my cable installations near the prow of the Station, I had time for a silent prayer of thanks. God had seen me – seen us – through our mission’s crises and challenges, and I could begin at last to appreciate the surreal but overwhelming beauty surrounding me.

With just a gloved hand linking me to the Station (and my trusty steel safety tether), I drank in the view of black sky and luminous Earth, 220 miles below. The scene was described with eloquence by the writer of the book of Sirach (Ch. 43):

The clear vault of the sky shines forth like heaven itself, a vision of glory.
The orb of the sun, resplendent at its rising: what a wonderful work of the Most High!
Like a blazing furnace of solid metal, it sets the mountain aflame with its rays; …
The eyes are dazzled by its light.

The beauty, the glory, of the heavens are the stars that adorn with their sparkling the heights of God
At whose command they keep their place and never relax in their vigils.

It is the Lord who has made all things, and to those who fear him he gives wisdom.

Aboard Atlantis this week, I know my orbiting colleagues, each in his or her own way, will take time to thank God for the privilege of experiencing a life “closer to heaven.” I pray He will return them, in joy and safety, to their families.

Tom Jones is a scientist, author, speaker, and four-time shuttle astronaut. He is busy with concepts for exploring Near-Earth Asteroids. His website is www.AstronautTomJones.com.

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(The views expressed in this column are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the positions of Headline Bistro or the Knights of Columbus.)