Space truckin'.

In 2024, NASA's Neil Gehrels Swift Observatory satellite, originally launched in 2004, began to experience difficulties with its orbit due to unexpected atmospheric drag from atmospheric expansion caused by solar radiation. The resulting orbital decay was predicted to eventually result in the satellite's destructive re-entry into the Earth's atmosphere.

NASA commissioned Katalyst Space Technologies, a US-based aerospace startup specializing in robotic spacecraft for Near Earth Orbit (NEO) operations and satellite maintenance, to undertake a rescue mission. On July 3, 2026, Katalyst's robotic LINK spacecraft was launched with the intention of capturing the Swift Observatory and boosting it to back to a safe orbit.

And it failed. 

On August 19, NASA announced that due to attitude control issues, LINK would be unable to rendezvous with the Swift satellite, which is now doomed to re-enter the atmosphere sometime in the fall of 2026. 

This is all very unfortunate, but here's the question: why is the International Space Station unable to perform this kind of satellite mission?

It would seem to be simplicity itself for a couple of astronauts to jump into some kind of NEO vehicle, something halfway between a pickup truck and a tug in function, do a quick burn, match trajectories, and use some Mini-Me equivalent of the Canadarm to capture the doomed satellite and pull it into a stable orbit. 

I realize that the above description is an enormous simplification of what would be a far more complex activity, but the concept seems sound.  As such, it seems like an odd gap in the station's capabilities.  It's as if the ISS were a private island, accessible only by helicopter, which couldn't save someone who's fallen overboard from a passing vessel because they don't own a speedboat.

To my mild surprise, I was unable to find any references to NASA giving consideration to some sort of EVA utility vehicle, just the Manned Maneuvering Unit (MMU).  The MMU was an individual propulsion unit used for extravehicular activities outside the Space Shuttle that was introduced in 1984.  The MMU was actually used to retrieve a pair of malfunctioning satellites before being retired from use due to safety issues (along with the Space Shuttle program).

The practical requirements for a vacuum-capable utility craft seem obvious: you'd want something with lots of horsepower and a substantial fuel payload to allow for both extended missions and to provide the fuel for moving larger payloads (such as falling satellites). The space pods from 2001 are an interesting example - shirt sleeve environment, lots of work lights, capable of remote control, and, importantly, there are external controls on Discovery which are designed to be operated by the pod's manipulators.  The addition of a standardized tow point on future satellites would certainly simplify the capture process for our shuttle crew.

However, it would require substantial redevelopment of the ISS infrastructure to allow for the creation of the kind of hangar that Discovery's pods use to allow for pressurized access - it would be simpler to have a vehicle open to vacuum that's just docked to some neutral portion of the station's exterior.  I don't recall any mention of astronauts performing ISS maintenance work having to worry about micrometeorites or similar kinetic impact hazards, so our utility vehicle probably doesn't need a windshield.**

The most important modification to existing technology that our proposed vehicle requires would be an external connection from the astronaut's environment pack to air tanks on the chassis.  It seems like such a good idea to have a breathable backup in case of a problem half way around the planet from the station.  

- Sid

* Sadly, Chris Hadfield didn’t respond to my DM on Instagram asking whether anything similar had been considered - no, seriously, he seemed like a useful source of information, but I accept that he must get thousands of messages, the man has 335,000 followers.  That being said, how cool would it have been to get a response! 

** Realizing that there's no wind involved, but it's a very convenient word for a transparent barrier that shields the driver/pilot of a moving vehicle. 

Especially over seven hours worth.

"It is sad to go to pieces like this but we all have to do it." 

Mark Twain

Today, two astronauts conducted a seven hour twenty minute spacewalk in order to replace the wrist joints on the International Space Station's Canadarm 2.  You have my sympathies, Canadarm - in my case, it's the knees that are showing signs of age, although I'm hoping to avoid any sort of similar replacement surgery.

- Sid

Giant Steps II: We Built this City.

In the previous posting, we looked at the basic aspects of constructing a permanent sustainable moonbase, and the reasons for such a base.  Now let's give some thought to how such a base would be designed, and the question of how we would go about actually building it.

Over the years, science fiction illustrators have happily drawn countless variations on the concept of a domed Moon city and there's a certain logic to the idea:  the idea scales well, from small to large, air pressure holds the dome up, it would be relatively easy to transport, and relatively easy to erect.  However, the down side of the dome is its relative fragility - on Earth, having a 20 pound chunk of metallic meteor punch through the roof is newsworthy.  On the Moon, it would be fatal.

It makes more sense to create a modular system, something that will require more time to put together, but which will be safer and more practical in the long run.  Modularity is a good thing - if there's a blowout in one module for whatever reason, you can hopefully seal off that module and maintain the integrity of the remainder of your habitat.

One option is to design some kind of standardized unit, a combination of cargo container and pre-fab housing, so that once they were landed on the Moon and emptied of supplies, they could be daisy-chained together with access corridors or air locks to create a sort of temporary trailer park.  As work went on, the modules could disconnected one at a time and buried or covered to provide protection from solar radiation.

NASA seems to be thinking more in terms of on-site construction, based on the concept of In Situ Resource Utilization, or ISRU, for short.  Research has been done into using lunar dust as a building material, a sort of moon concrete, possibly using sulphur* rather than water as a binding agent.  The resulting material would be used to build walls and foundations using a process like 3-D printing.

However, there are two very practical aspects of this process that have nothing to do with the design of the base, and everything to do with the actual process of building it:  personnel and resources.

Until now, space travel has been a game of elites, with two or three astronauts at a time being trained and then dispatched into space.  But the practicalities of building a Moon base would require dozens if not hundreds of people, people who will need to be transported to the lunar surface, where they will require spacesuits suited for the rigors of construction. They will need a place to live while they build a place to live. They will need food, water and oxygen, not to mention tools and materials.  They will need training so that they can perform their duties in an environment that will punish mistakes with death, and they will need to create an entirely new building process as they go.

Is this excessive?  Do we really need more people than the standard three-person NASA crew to build our base on the Moon?  That depends - what's our timeline for completion?  For that matter, what's our baseline?  How long does it take to build things on Earth?

In 1930, it took 3,400 people 410 days to build the Empire State Building, which is apparently very fast for a structure of that magnitude.  However, we're probably a long way away from skyscrapers on the Moon.  At the other end of the spectrum, it takes between three and six months to build a standard home, although the internet suggests timelines as long as 16 months for a custom structure - in other words, longer than the Empire State Building, but let's be fair, you're looking at a lot less than 3,400 workers.

Regardless, both of those examples are being built in an oxygen atmosphere, with standard gravity, and everything you could possibly need no further away than the closest Home Depot.  It also involves cranes, fork lifts, excavators, and bulldozers, and a specialized labour force of welders, masons, framers, dry wallers, roofers, plumbers and electricians working on it - not to mention painters, tile setters and cabinet makers.

The International Space Station is probably a better example. The ISS is made up of 16 modules:  nine American, four Russian, two Japanese, and one European, with a Soyuz attached for use as a lifeboat.  Construction on the ISS started in 1998, with the launch of the American Zarya module. Forty missions, 36 of which were Space Shuttle launches, were required to put all of the station's elements into orbit, with a two and a half year hiatus after the Columbia disaster in 2003. The final element was added in 2016, adding up to an 18-year construction program.**

What's the equivalent timeline for a base on the moon?  It only takes eight or nine minutes to get into orbit, as opposed to the three-day trip to the Moon, and I haven't seen any evidence of a planned equivalent to the Space Shuttle that will be able to act as a heavy lift cargo transporter. (The cancelled Obama-era Constellation program included plans for a heavy-lift cargo module, the Altair, which would have been capable of transporting six tons of cargo and four astronauts to the Moon's surface - NASA might want to look at pulling those specifications out of storage.)

The astronauts assembling the ISS also had the advantage of zero gravity, and tools like the Canadarm that streamlined the process.

Logic says that in the case of a lunar base, it will have to rely on prefabricated building elements of some sort, but even then, it will require some kind of heavy equipment on the Moon in order to create foundations, dig holes, and move the pieces into place.  The alternative is, of course, smaller pieces, but the smaller the pieces the more assembly and connection is required, and we're back to our crew of specialists.

The bottom line is that NASA actually has complete control over the timeline.  If the US government supports it, they have the expertise to create the necessary tools and processes, and there will be a significant base on the Moon by the planned date of 2028.  But really, NASA doesn't need to do any of this to meet that target.  They could just drop the equivalent of a Airstream trailer onto the Moon's surface, and voilà, we have a permanent Moon base, done. But is that really enough?  Could this be the moment that history will look back upon as the real beginning of our expansion from Earth into the solar system?

For a long time, NASA was as much a political tool as anything else, but over time it's evolved into the scientific enterprise that it should always have been.  Now it's time to apply the results of its research to the practical aspects of man living in space. The next step in their evolution is here: let's hope that they - and the government that supports them - are up to the task.

The first generation of astronauts was made up of risk takers: test pilots, ex-military fliers, people whose experience lay in performing in life-threatening situations.  The second generation needed scientists, people who could perform experiments and conduct research.

The third generation will need to change again.  Creating a permanent presence on the Moon will require builders: engineers, geologists, safety specialists, construction experts, people who can pave the way for the permanent residents of the fourth generation: the colonists.

- Sid

* No, seriously, this is an actual thing:  

https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S0950061811005903 

Now you know what they did with those samples that the Apollo astronauts collected from the surface of the Moon, although in some cases experiments have been conducted with moon soil "simulants" based on analysis of actual moon dust, rather than the real thing.

** There are still a couple of planned modules to be added, and eight other modules were cancelled, but the station is obviously in operation in its current configuration.
 

Apollo 50: "Your dreams are our future."

“Make no small plans for they have no power to stir the soul.”

 - Niccolo Machiavelli

On the morning of July 20th, I attended a celebration of Canada's role in the exploration of space, presented by the Canadian Space Agency as part of the 50th anniversary celebration for the Apollo 11 moon landing.

In many ways, the celebration is well deserved. The Canadian space budget is large for a country of our population - or, as astronaut Jenni Sidey-Gibbons put it, "We punch well above our weight as a spacefaring nation."

However, that money has been well spent.  We're the 39th largest country by population, but we're in the top eight in terms of how many of our citizens have visited space, and our name has become synonymous with space robotics technology - literally, in the form of the Canadarm.  In fact, the first manmade object to touch the moon was made in Canada:  the landing feet of the Eagle lander were designed and manufactured by Héroux-Devtek, a company based in Longueuil, Quebec.

The cross-country event featured presenters scattered across Canada:  Jenni Sidey-Gibbons in Vancouver, Dave Williams in Regina, Jeremy Hanson in Ottawa, and Joshua Kutryk in St. John's.

Retired astronaut Robert Thirsk acted as MC for the morning from the Ontario Science Centre*, and David Saint-Jacques, recently returned to Earth after 204 days in space, was the main speaker for the event at the Montreal Science Centre in Quebec.

Speaking in a mix of English and French**, Saint-Jacques painted a fascinating and evocative picture of the current state of the art in space exploration, starting with the way in which the dream of being an astronaut had molded his life, and then looking at the actuality of that dream, finally boarding the Soyuz rocket, entering space, and gaining a whole new viewpoint on planet Earth.

"You know, you grow up as a child, and all you know is your family, and then you get a bit older and you realize there is a city outside. There’s a country. There’s a planet.  And there’s another step that we take back in our perspective of the whole universe."

He then went on to discuss the International Space Station, describing it as "The most complex machine ever built by mankind", but also commenting on the collaborative nature of the ISS, a project shared between countries that were at war for much of the 20th century: "But in space, we work together. And that’s perhaps the strongest thing for me about space exploration. "

For David, one of the most noteworthy things about the ISS is the manner in which it has allowed us to become permanent inhabitants of space, pointing out that, "Rather than go there for a few days and come back a bit dazed, now we live in space - for months!" He noted that there has been a constant human presence away from Earth for 15 years on the ISS:  "That's not science fiction, that's reality!"

He then discussed the degree to which the impossible environment of outer space is hard on the human body, and the manner in which research on the ISS examines the challenges of life in zero gravity, information which will be vital as we move forward in exploring the solar system, and undertake longer missions in space.

"It’s a bit like testing our camping equipment in the backyard before we say, okay, it’s ready.  I know how it works. Now I can go for real and do future exploration, and that is our future. "

One of the highlights of David's extended stay on the ISS was a spacewalk, "A highlight for any astronaut."

"I assumed I would feel very small.  But actually, it’s very strange – not at all. The feeling it gave me… I was in my suit alone  floating around Earth and I thought, wow, it’s amazing how big it is, the reach of the human mind.  When you look at Earth, you try to imagine the size of a human being on Earth. It’s very small. But the human mind is able to go into space. The human mind invents machines that keep us alive in that environment.  So I was a bit of a representative, a small piece of the human mind that is a huge, endless thing. And that really touched me."

He emphasized the degree to which future exploration will be performed in collaboration with robotic aids, an area where Canada has established itself as a world leader with the Canadarm, Canadarm2, and DEXTRE.

One of those areas of future exploration is the upcoming Gateway project. Canada's contribution to the new orbital lunar station will be the Canadarm3, the next generation of remote robotic manipulators.

"I think it’s a good example of the diversity of talent we have in this country.  And Canadians are known for our creativity, our sense of innovation, our spirit of adventure and discovery. So I’m proud to be part of that team."

In answering questions from the audience, David spoke to the near future of space exploration, commenting that, "Space will surprise all of us in the next five years.  The first people who will go to Mars have been born, but are still children."

In his opinion, as time moves forward, we will use space more and more to monitor and protect our planet.

"That will keep getting more and more important, our space infrastructure and the fact that we use space in our daily lives. So space is here to stay, and I’m glad that Canada is keeping in the leading group of nations in space exploration."

Following the national videoconferencing segment, Jenni Sidey-Gibbons chatted with the Vancouver crowd and took questions from the audience.  When asked about whether she would prefer to pick a particular mission, her response was that "...there are so many opportunities, I'm just looking forward to it, I just want to go. I'm looking to the Moon, to Gateway, or to Mars."  In particular, she looks forward to that first moment of feeling zero gravity and seeing the earth from space.

Regarding Gateway, she explained that the Gateway station will not be manned all the time, and will be designed to be more autonomous than the ISS due to the higher radiation hazards of lunar orbit, wryly commenting that, "people are pretty fragile".

She also spoke to the astounding challenges that she's faced over the last two years of training, such as the rigorous physical testing:  "It's not 'can you do a pull up', it's 'can you get our of a crashed helicopter upside down underwater in the dark"?

She sees no reason for Canada to develop its own launch capability:  "We rely upon our international partners for launching, as they rely on us for robotics."

In her opinion, the international nature of the current exploratory environment is one of its greatest strengths.  The first moon landing was accomplished in a spirit of competition, "redefining what we thought of as possible".  She looks forward to seeing what comes as a result of cooperation instead of competition.

Her enthusiasm and commitment are inspiring.  Jenni, here's hoping you're the first Canadian to set foot on the Moon - or maybe the first person on Mars.

That's one small step for a woman...

- Sid

A full version of the video conferencing portion of the event can be viewed on YouTube:

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3Eehnnn3uWg&amp

* It seemed ironic that we had a breakdown in the video streaming almost immediately after Bob Thirsk spoke to Canada's premier role in telecommunications.   As my mother would have commented, "...and yet we can put a man on the Moon...".

** I think that closed captioned translation for both English and French would have been a useful addition to the process - I was quite pleased by how much of David's francophone commentary I was able to understand (it's been a LONG time since high school French), but I bet there were a lot of people in the Vancouver audience who didn't follow a word of it.

A Personal Observation on the ISS: I Don't Like It.

I've had a chance to see something that is way outside everybody else's frame of reference and gives a perspective that is very different from everyone else's. 

Retired astronaut Chris Hadfield

It's true - I don't like the ISS.

I love it.

 

I love that there's this massive science fiction prop up there in low earth orbit, second brightest thing in the night sky after the Moon, traveling at the ridiculous speed of 28,000 kilometers an hour and zooming around the planet once every 90 minutes.

I love the pictures of the ISS, and I love the pictures from the ISS, the Canadarm and DEXTRE, incredible photos of the Earth, astronauts doing spacewalks, all that stuff, because they all look like pictures of the future, except they're being taken now.

I really love that people on the ISS have worn Star Trek uniforms and waved DON'T PANIC towels and shot David Bowie homage music videos and done all that sort of silly human stuff that has nothing to do with science.

Because they're living there, and that's what people do when they live someplace, silly human stuff - and we do that now, as a species, some of us sort of live in space, how incredibly cool is that?  And what a great step into the future - I don't know about small steps and giant leaps, but at least we're moving forward.

And when they come back, the astronauts seem to love and appreciate the planet just a little bit more than when they left, which has to be a good thing.

So, again, I don't like the ISS - I LOVE IT.

- Sid

Or maybe Tim Horton's.

For this year's Canada Day, let's take a moment to acknowledge the best known and longest serving Canadian member of the space program. Sorry, it’s not Chris Hadfield, I refer of course to the Shuttle Remote Manipulator System: more popularly known as the Canadarm.

Commissioned from Spar Aerospace by the Canadian government as part of an agreement with NASA to support the shuttle program, the Canadarm was first deployed from the space shuttle Columbia on November 13, 1981. The 15.2 meter long robotic arm featured a unique cable-based "end effector" (hand, if you're not an engineer) that allowed the Canadarm to effectively and easily grip objects in zero gravity.

The Canadarm proved to be an incredibly useful and versatile addition to the shuttle, and NASA requested a matching system for each of their new space shuttles. The various models served with distinction for 30 years, finally retiring* in 2011 after 90 missions.

The Canadarm2 was already in place on the International Space Station at that point** - the improved version of the remote manipulator, designed and built by Brampton's MacDonald Dettwiler and Associates, had entered service in 2001 after being installed on the ISS with the help of Chris Hadfield and the station’s first generation Canadarm.

The new version of the arm was larger, longer and stronger, with the ability to handle larger payloads, and was constructed so that it could be maintained and updated in orbit - unlike its predecessors, the Canadarm2 would remain in space for its entire service life.

 

The next addition to Canada’s catalogue of robotic remotes was Dextre, the Special Purpose Dexterous Manipulator***. Also built by MDA, Dextre is 3.70 meters tall, is equipped with two 3.5 meter long arms, each with seven joints for extreme flexibility, and can be mounted on the end of the Canadarm2. Dextre first saw duty in February of 2011, allowing the crew of the ISS to perform a wide variety of maintenance tasks on the exterior of the station without the need to go into space.

The Canadarm, Canadarm2 and Dextre are the tools of the future: extensions of humanity that enhance and expand the ability of astronauts to interact with their environment, extensions that will undoubtedly become more and more autonomous over time.

I’d like to think that they're also the precursors to a long legacy of independent Canadian-created robotic space explorers. Imagine: centuries from now, on a distant planet, a mobile human-form AI stands surrounded by curious lifeforms. The scarlet light of an alien sun illuminates a chipped and scratched maple leaf etched into the android's carbon fibre shoulder.

One of the aliens raises a secondary pedipalp and gestures at the flag.

>>>INQUIRY: WHAT IS SIGNIFICANCE OF THIS ICON?<<<

A metallic face creases into a nostalgic smile.

“That is the symbol of Canada, my home and native land. Hmmm…how to explain Canada...okay, let’s start with hockey...”

- Sid

* Because there were multiple models, the retiring Canadarms found a variety of homes for their golden years: one at the Canada Aviation and Space Museum in Ottawa, another at the National Air and Space Museum in Virginia, one remained in orbit, and one is on display as part of the Atlantis shuttle display at the Kennedy Space Centre in Florida - the traditional destination of retiring Canadians. (Florida, that is, not the Kennedy Space Centre.) The fifth Canadarm was lost in the 1986 Challenger accident.

** The process of transferring cargo from one Canadarm to the other became known as the "Canadian Handshake".

*** I have always thought that Dextre should have been named Waldo, after the character in the Robert A. Heinlein story of the same name, who lived on a space station and had developed a wide range of remote manipulators to compensate for his myasthenia gravis, but apparently someone has the name under copyright.

"Swedish for common sense."

At some point, we will begin to colonize the rest of our solar system.

Science fiction - and science fiction fans - just take that as a given.  How could we not?  And as such, science fiction is full of examples of Moon bases and Mars colonies and space stations and so on.

However, the finer details of the process are frequently left to the imagination.  I've been rewatching The Martian, the excellent 2015 adaptation of Andy Weir's equally excellent novel*, on Netflix™ and it occurred to me that they never really discuss where the Hab module on Mars comes from.  In the movie, it's apparently quite a solid structure, although in the novel, it's just a bubble, held in shape by air pressure (which makes the scene where the airlock blows out a bit more challenging for the abandoned astronaut Mark Watney, because the entire structure collapses).

But it takes more than air pressure to make a house a home, to misquote Walter Brennan.  It takes desks. It takes desks, and beds, tables and chairs, shelves and cabinets, and all the other bits and pieces that make up a functioning living and working space, whether it's on Mars or the Moon.

Ignoring the question of how the Ares 3 team put all this together in a couple of Martian weeks, how did all the bits and pieces get there?  We're looking at a situation where both space and weight are at a premium: every milligram matters when it comes to fuel consumption, as demonstrated by the process of demolishing the Ares 4 Mars Ascent Vehicle so that it has enough fuel to take Watney to a rendezvous with the Hermes.

So far, this sort of thing hasn't been a real problem for NASA.  The International Space Station is constructed from prefabricated modules that have been boosted into orbit and assembled** over a time span of almost 20 years, and it doesn't need furniture as such - lack of gravity makes wheeled office chairs a bit redundant.

However, as soon as we start setting up a base in any kind of a gravity well, furnishings will become an issue, and NASA will need to look at the logistics of transporting all the associated bits and pieces required to create a functioning and livable habitat to another world. It will require lightweight modular furniture, packaged so that there is no wasted space, and which can be assembled easily and quickly with a minimum of tools.

But where can they go for this sort of expertise?  Hmmm...oh, wait, I know...

- Sid

* To be honest, I feel that the novel is a bit more excellent than the movie.  It's certainly more sciency.

** Shout out to both the Canadarm and the Canadarm II.

Florida 6: Vignettes.

A selection of photos from the Kennedy Space Centre:

They were told how to put their hands on their hips (if they must).  The thumbs should be to the rear and the fingers forward.

Tom Wolfe, The Right Stuff

Legends.

PA announcer:  "Of course, the Smithsonian doesn't have one of these..."

How the mighty are fallen:  a fern grows in a Titan rocket engine.

Mercury capsule seat.  To my eye it looks crude and unfinished - but someone sat in this chair, on
the top of a controlled explosion, and successfully made it to Earth orbit.

The Apollo 11 capsule.  It looks roomier than the Mercury capsule, until you realize that three men
in bulky spacesuits were wedged into that space like sardines in a can.

The six million pound crawler-transporter used to transport rockets to the launch pads.  Frankly,
I expected to see a bunch of jawas jump out and offer to sell the tour group some droids.

Counting down in the Apollo Saturn V Control Room.

President John F. Kennedy:  "We must be bold."

The business end of a Saturn V - five F-1 rocket engines, 7.5 million pounds of thrust.

And the complicated plumbing required to control those engines.

The looming first stage of the Saturn V.

Mars Explorer Barbie.  I'm reasonably certain that pink spacesuit is going to clash horribly with
the surface of Mars.

Atlantis:  33 missions, 4848 Earth orbits.

Every heatproof tile on the Atlantis is numbered to indicate its position.

The red-hot ramp to the Re-entry section of the Atlantis exhibit.

Shout out to the Canadarm!!

EVA - Extra Vehicular Activity. 

The elite: the Astronauts' Hall of Fame.

  - Sid