Messenger is go, go, gone.
Aug. 5th, 2004 10:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kickahaNow that I've had some sleep, and a bit of time to recover from the five day 'fast trip' to FL and back...
A few months ago,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
gilthalas, who works at Johns Hopkins APL on contract for NASA, asked me how I'd like to see the Messenger launch. (I believe my response was "Well fucking duh...") I thought he was kidding, but a few weeks ago, a bright shiny invitation showed up in the mail for ginkgo and I to attend, as guests of NASA.
ginkgo and I headed out on Sat morning, after me pulling two all nighters in the previous few days... kinda sleepy still, to be honest. We made a straight shot to Titusville, FL, just across from Kennedy Space Center and Cape Canaveral, which are on Merritt Island. (143,000 acres, <8,000 of which are used for KSC and CC - the rest is wildlife preserve - and amazing it is, too.) A quick and excellent Cuban dinner at El Leoncito and we were ready for bed after a tour around town and a bit of time out at the public fishing pier to experiment with the digital camera on loan at night. Result: disappointing. Tripod a necessity.
Up the next morning, out to KSC, and start the day wandering around the complex. Rockets, rockets, rockets - I can't describe what it was like to stand next to a Mercury-Redstone - or be dwarfed by a single thrust nozzle from a Saturn. It was something I'd dreamed about since I was a little boy in a town of apple orchards... and I actually got to see them in person. The exhibits were breathtaking, and amazingly emotionally effective. The sheer will it took to get 'out there', to leave behind the entirety of human existence and habitat... absolutely stunning. The brainpower, the effort, the dedication and training... Flinging probes out is one thing. To send a living human to the most inhospitable environment we have access to, and bring them back alive, hale and hearty... 'awe' is the only word that comes to mind. Not for military or political gain, but just because we could. I still consider the Apollo program the greatest single achievement of our species - the intellectual and personal dedication it required was... stunning. There's a call right now for a stoppage of human exploration, that it's too risky... but that's for the volunteers to decide for themselves. And these men did, and they took us all farther than we'd ever been before. I look forward expectantly to the next leap we make. Hell, I hope to be part of it somehow.
Another dinner at El Lioncito (Mexican this time - they had both menus, and both were *amazingly* good), then to the hotel for a bit of downtime before heading back to the Center for the launch. We managed to get to the wrong site for boarding the busses - we needed to be over at the NASA Protocol Office for the VIP boarding... with all the other uber-geeks. And oh my god, were there geeks. We were surrounded by NASA folks, APL folks, contractors... geeks geeks geeks. I blended! The weather wasn't great, what with Tropical Storm Alex pulling Gulf air across Florida - by the time it got to us, it was windy, and more than a little rain at times. The forecast indicated a 70% chance of a launch.
After a *LONG* wait for the busses, we finally boarded (on bus #1 no less), then... sat in the parking lot, for probably 30 minutes while they tried to find out if we were still a go. The weather wasn't cooperating. They finally said they were going to go for it, and try it anyway. Out we went into Kennedy Space Center proper, past the gun toting guards and guardhouse, and into the night, out onto the causeway between KSC and Cape Canaveral. This is where we were to watch the launch, five miles from the launch pad.
We got to hear the complete pre-launch checklist over loudspeakers, which was *REALLY NEAT* to listen to. A weather plane had been sent up, but they felt there was a 10:1 chance of the launch occuring, quite optimistic. There's a built-in 10 minute pause at T-4:00, so they have some play in the launch schedule. We reached that, and six minutes later they received word from the weather plane that the upper winds had suddenly increased, were simply too high, and combined with the low cloud layer, that was two weather violations. Launch scrubbed.
Back in the busses we go, and back to KSC. Many people were very disappointed, since they had planned vacations or flights starting the next day - this was their one chance. We had the flexibility to stay however, so we decided to postpone returning to Raleigh, and stick around until it launched. Within reason, of course.
The next morning, after just a few hours of sleep, we got up to the news that Alex hadn't moved much, but was expected to move off more rapidly as the day went on. Same 70% chance of launch this evening as well. We went to the Astronaut Hall of Fame, which was the perfect complement to the KSC Visitor's Center the day before - while the KSC focussed on the technologies, and the programs, the AHF focussed on the men and women of the space program, from the earliest beginnings through today. Their training, their biographies, the missions they flew - it was just excellent.
After the AFH, we had dinner at Dixie Crossroads, a bizarre little quasi-touristy seafood place that was actually pretty good - big massive shrimp cooked very nicely, and scallops, served with these really odd 'sweet hushpuppies' - corn meal donut holes, more like it, with powdered sugar on top. About 7 or so, as we're leaving, the skies just *DUMP*. It rains for about 20 minutes, but it must have dumped 2 inches, and the lightning was spectacular.
Unfortunately, the tower gantry was supposed to roll back at 5pm, and lightning is the one thing that will immediately stop a launch. While they have a couple of hours of play in their schedule with respect to the timing, this is making us nervous about the launch going off... if the tower had already been rolled back, then the Delta II might have been exposed to the storm. Not good.
We head out to the boat launch to watch the storm, and it is just *hammering* the Cape. The ground is not visible from the rain, but we're watching lightning strikes stopping quite a bit short of the ground. Many strikes, in the same place, one after another. The hits are coming all along the shore about every 15 seconds, for 20 minutes, but this one point is getting his many many times, always short of the ground. As the rain clears, we can see it's the Vehicle Assembly Building, where Apollo and later the Shuttle flights are prepped. 50 stories high, and apparently a very good lightning grounding system, because it was just abused mercilessly. Eventually, the storm moves out to sea, and the sunset behind us was just spectacular. We get some pictures, and decide to head back to the hotel for a nap.
Up we get at 11 to head back to the NASA Protocol Office, and the skies are starting to clear a bit by now, *maybe* it'll happen after all. We again board the busses, a bit quicker this time, and are immediately taken out to the same causeway. There are only about half of us left, at this point, at most. Probably closer to a third of the previous night's crowd. There is much discussion about what people will do if it doesn't go off again tonight, but people are hopeful since the moon and some stars are out.
We listen to the launch commentary again, and this time we reach the T-4 mark, hold for ten and... it's a go. It's actually going to happen, it looks like.
T-2, and things are heating up on the chatter.
T-1, and engines are being prepped, fuel valves opening.
T-0:10, 0:05, 0:02 and engines light with a bright orange flash, as the crowd gasps, then 0:00 and the boosters ignite, lighting the horizon like a pure white sun.
Then it slowly, ever so slowly, lifts in silence, slowly gathering speed until it clears the tower... and only two seconds have elapsed. The white glare is lifting up, second by second, always faster, until it arcs towards the waiting moon.
The sounds starts about this time, a percussive blast that startles us all, that gets louder and the rumble... the rumble begins, sending waves of bass through us even at this distance.
Up above, we see three small orange stars disperse from the rocket, then three more. A moment of tension goes through us all until someone says "Boosters!" Those are 6 of the 9 booster rockets falling aside, tumbling to sea. The light above fades from brilliant white to a duller orange as the main stage one engine is left with three boosters.
The sounds starts to fade, now a loud crackle instead of the earlier roar, as the orange flame starts to fade into the distance, now appearing to arc down towards the ocean as the earth's rotation takes it over the Atlantic and towards Africa.
Just before it fades completely, we see the final three orange sparks detach and disappear, and then Messenger is on its way.
The crowd cheers, and we get back in the busses, to ride back to KSC, now fully awake and all chattering like excited schoolkids. Photos and video are shared, and no two are alike - and none match the memory. So many interpretations of a single event.
We get back to the hotel, and both fall asleep soundly and quickly. It's been a long wait, and a longer trip, but it's been well worth it. Thanksgilthalas, that was... incredible.
Next morning has us sleeping in a bit, then heading to Savannah GA... but that's for another post. :)
I put the pics for the above post up at http://www.cs.unc.edu/~smithja/KSC/ if anyone's interested.
A few months ago,
gilthalas, who works at Johns Hopkins APL on contract for NASA, asked me how I'd like to see the Messenger launch. (I believe my response was "Well fucking duh...") I thought he was kidding, but a few weeks ago, a bright shiny invitation showed up in the mail for ginkgo and I to attend, as guests of NASA.ginkgo and I headed out on Sat morning, after me pulling two all nighters in the previous few days... kinda sleepy still, to be honest. We made a straight shot to Titusville, FL, just across from Kennedy Space Center and Cape Canaveral, which are on Merritt Island. (143,000 acres, <8,000 of which are used for KSC and CC - the rest is wildlife preserve - and amazing it is, too.) A quick and excellent Cuban dinner at El Leoncito and we were ready for bed after a tour around town and a bit of time out at the public fishing pier to experiment with the digital camera on loan at night. Result: disappointing. Tripod a necessity.Up the next morning, out to KSC, and start the day wandering around the complex. Rockets, rockets, rockets - I can't describe what it was like to stand next to a Mercury-Redstone - or be dwarfed by a single thrust nozzle from a Saturn. It was something I'd dreamed about since I was a little boy in a town of apple orchards... and I actually got to see them in person. The exhibits were breathtaking, and amazingly emotionally effective. The sheer will it took to get 'out there', to leave behind the entirety of human existence and habitat... absolutely stunning. The brainpower, the effort, the dedication and training... Flinging probes out is one thing. To send a living human to the most inhospitable environment we have access to, and bring them back alive, hale and hearty... 'awe' is the only word that comes to mind. Not for military or political gain, but just because we could. I still consider the Apollo program the greatest single achievement of our species - the intellectual and personal dedication it required was... stunning. There's a call right now for a stoppage of human exploration, that it's too risky... but that's for the volunteers to decide for themselves. And these men did, and they took us all farther than we'd ever been before. I look forward expectantly to the next leap we make. Hell, I hope to be part of it somehow.
Another dinner at El Lioncito (Mexican this time - they had both menus, and both were *amazingly* good), then to the hotel for a bit of downtime before heading back to the Center for the launch. We managed to get to the wrong site for boarding the busses - we needed to be over at the NASA Protocol Office for the VIP boarding... with all the other uber-geeks. And oh my god, were there geeks. We were surrounded by NASA folks, APL folks, contractors... geeks geeks geeks. I blended! The weather wasn't great, what with Tropical Storm Alex pulling Gulf air across Florida - by the time it got to us, it was windy, and more than a little rain at times. The forecast indicated a 70% chance of a launch.
After a *LONG* wait for the busses, we finally boarded (on bus #1 no less), then... sat in the parking lot, for probably 30 minutes while they tried to find out if we were still a go. The weather wasn't cooperating. They finally said they were going to go for it, and try it anyway. Out we went into Kennedy Space Center proper, past the gun toting guards and guardhouse, and into the night, out onto the causeway between KSC and Cape Canaveral. This is where we were to watch the launch, five miles from the launch pad.
We got to hear the complete pre-launch checklist over loudspeakers, which was *REALLY NEAT* to listen to. A weather plane had been sent up, but they felt there was a 10:1 chance of the launch occuring, quite optimistic. There's a built-in 10 minute pause at T-4:00, so they have some play in the launch schedule. We reached that, and six minutes later they received word from the weather plane that the upper winds had suddenly increased, were simply too high, and combined with the low cloud layer, that was two weather violations. Launch scrubbed.
Back in the busses we go, and back to KSC. Many people were very disappointed, since they had planned vacations or flights starting the next day - this was their one chance. We had the flexibility to stay however, so we decided to postpone returning to Raleigh, and stick around until it launched. Within reason, of course.
The next morning, after just a few hours of sleep, we got up to the news that Alex hadn't moved much, but was expected to move off more rapidly as the day went on. Same 70% chance of launch this evening as well. We went to the Astronaut Hall of Fame, which was the perfect complement to the KSC Visitor's Center the day before - while the KSC focussed on the technologies, and the programs, the AHF focussed on the men and women of the space program, from the earliest beginnings through today. Their training, their biographies, the missions they flew - it was just excellent.
After the AFH, we had dinner at Dixie Crossroads, a bizarre little quasi-touristy seafood place that was actually pretty good - big massive shrimp cooked very nicely, and scallops, served with these really odd 'sweet hushpuppies' - corn meal donut holes, more like it, with powdered sugar on top. About 7 or so, as we're leaving, the skies just *DUMP*. It rains for about 20 minutes, but it must have dumped 2 inches, and the lightning was spectacular.
Unfortunately, the tower gantry was supposed to roll back at 5pm, and lightning is the one thing that will immediately stop a launch. While they have a couple of hours of play in their schedule with respect to the timing, this is making us nervous about the launch going off... if the tower had already been rolled back, then the Delta II might have been exposed to the storm. Not good.
We head out to the boat launch to watch the storm, and it is just *hammering* the Cape. The ground is not visible from the rain, but we're watching lightning strikes stopping quite a bit short of the ground. Many strikes, in the same place, one after another. The hits are coming all along the shore about every 15 seconds, for 20 minutes, but this one point is getting his many many times, always short of the ground. As the rain clears, we can see it's the Vehicle Assembly Building, where Apollo and later the Shuttle flights are prepped. 50 stories high, and apparently a very good lightning grounding system, because it was just abused mercilessly. Eventually, the storm moves out to sea, and the sunset behind us was just spectacular. We get some pictures, and decide to head back to the hotel for a nap.
Up we get at 11 to head back to the NASA Protocol Office, and the skies are starting to clear a bit by now, *maybe* it'll happen after all. We again board the busses, a bit quicker this time, and are immediately taken out to the same causeway. There are only about half of us left, at this point, at most. Probably closer to a third of the previous night's crowd. There is much discussion about what people will do if it doesn't go off again tonight, but people are hopeful since the moon and some stars are out.
We listen to the launch commentary again, and this time we reach the T-4 mark, hold for ten and... it's a go. It's actually going to happen, it looks like.
T-2, and things are heating up on the chatter.
T-1, and engines are being prepped, fuel valves opening.
T-0:10, 0:05, 0:02 and engines light with a bright orange flash, as the crowd gasps, then 0:00 and the boosters ignite, lighting the horizon like a pure white sun.
Then it slowly, ever so slowly, lifts in silence, slowly gathering speed until it clears the tower... and only two seconds have elapsed. The white glare is lifting up, second by second, always faster, until it arcs towards the waiting moon.
The sounds starts about this time, a percussive blast that startles us all, that gets louder and the rumble... the rumble begins, sending waves of bass through us even at this distance.
Up above, we see three small orange stars disperse from the rocket, then three more. A moment of tension goes through us all until someone says "Boosters!" Those are 6 of the 9 booster rockets falling aside, tumbling to sea. The light above fades from brilliant white to a duller orange as the main stage one engine is left with three boosters.
The sounds starts to fade, now a loud crackle instead of the earlier roar, as the orange flame starts to fade into the distance, now appearing to arc down towards the ocean as the earth's rotation takes it over the Atlantic and towards Africa.
Just before it fades completely, we see the final three orange sparks detach and disappear, and then Messenger is on its way.
The crowd cheers, and we get back in the busses, to ride back to KSC, now fully awake and all chattering like excited schoolkids. Photos and video are shared, and no two are alike - and none match the memory. So many interpretations of a single event.
We get back to the hotel, and both fall asleep soundly and quickly. It's been a long wait, and a longer trip, but it's been well worth it. Thanks
gilthalas, that was... incredible.Next morning has us sleeping in a bit, then heading to Savannah GA... but that's for another post. :)
I put the pics for the above post up at http://www.cs.unc.edu/~smithja/KSC/ if anyone's interested.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-06 04:21 am (UTC)I love going to KSC. The tour they do of the old launch complexes out at the old part of the Cape is excellent. The guides all know everything about the Mercury, Gemini, and Apollo programs, and you get to go to (among other places) the Freedom 7 launch pad and the one where the Apollo 1 fire happened (an amazingly moving experience).
And there's nothing like coming into the room where the Saturn V is and looking up...up...up. George actually took a picture lying on his back on the floor under the rocket end, just to try to show the scale of the thing.
(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-06 08:53 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-06 12:44 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-06 02:31 pm (UTC)