The Wonderful: Stories from the Space Station (2021) Movie Script

1
...advances in science and technology.
Opportunities and jobs will multiply
as we cross new thresholds of knowledge
and reach deeper into the unknown.
Nowhere is this more important
than our next frontier: Space.
Tonight, I am directing NASA to develop
a permanently manned space station
and to do it within a decade.
Hi, Dad. Have you gotten
your Christmas presents yet?
Yeah, thank you for the T-shirt.
I think I put, like, a bell in
there that was like, "Number One Dad."
- Got the bell and the card too, yeah.
- Yeah.
The T-shirt was in there too.
Yeah.
- Love you, Charlotte.
- Love you too.
Mr Secretary General,
delegates to the United Nations,
ladies and gentlemen,
we meet again in the quest for peace.
President Kennedy made a speech to
the United Nations in September of 1963
and made the offer
to bring the Soviet Union in
and to make them
a part of the Apollo program.
Finally, in a field where
the United States and the Soviet Union
have a special capacity
in the field of space,
there is room for new cooperation,
for further joint efforts in
the regulation and exploration of space.
I include among these possibilities
a joint expedition to the Moon.
Space offers no problems of sovereignty.
Why, therefore,
should man's first flight to the Moon
be a matter of national competition?
November of that year,
he wrote a memo to NASA
telling them he would like to have them
come back in two weeks
and tell them why the Soviet Union
should not be a part of Apollo.
President Kennedy was killed on the 22nd
of November and that never happened.
That vision that Kennedy had
of working together as partners
finally materialized
and is happening today.
That is the space station
we're flying right now.
There has never been any other
collaborative engineering project
of this scope, size or challenge,
in my opinion.
You are basically taking
pieces of hardware
that may have been built
thousands of miles apart,
that had never been in the same room,
never touched each other.
Then you have to put them together
in space, in a vacuum,
going at 18,000 miles an hour,
and they have to work
the first time they touch
and not cause shocks or not leak
or have any other problems
that of course are disastrous in space.
And they all worked. They all worked
when we put them together.
I flew three times in space.
My third mission was as the commander
of the International Space Station
early in its assembly in life.
I was trained
for several possible spacewalks.
I ended up doing one
where we were attaching the cables
to power up a new compartment
that had come up
and test out a new piece of equipment
that the Russians had sent up there.
It's an all-day affair
to get ready for it.
You have to have
all the right equipment,
we have to prepare the station
as if we can't get back inside
and have to come in a different way,
and then you've got to go through
all the procedures
to make sure your suit is working right
before you go outside.
It's a whole different experience
being on the outside of the station.
We're here in Washington
and the Washington Monument's downtown.
If you could imagine someone asks you
to go out the windows at the top
of the monument and wash the outside.
You open the window, you look out.
There's nothing for 500 feet below you.
So you open the hatch on the station.
You look out.
There's nothing except the atmosphere
for 250 miles below you.
You'd be very careful about making sure
your tethers were always attached,
because the Russian suit did not have
a little rocket pack on the back
to fly you back if you got loose.
About an hour or so in,
when I was feeling pretty comfortable,
I found myself on top of the station,
and so I put my feet
under the hand-holds
and I stood up on top of the station.
Imagine standing on top of a 747
and holding on to just a little rope.
That's kind of what it was like
standing up there,
because you had the fuselage
of the station,
you had the wings of the solar arrays,
and you're on top of the world,
and it's all just unrolling beneath you.
Throughout all history, humankind
has had only one place to call home:
Our planet Earth.
Beginning this year, 1998,
men and women from 16 countries
will build a foothold in the heavens,
the International Space Station.
With its vast expanses, scientists
and engineers will actually set sail
on an uncharted sea of limitless mystery
and unlimited potential.
The space station is really like
being on a ship, sailing some sea.
We've drawn a lot of legacy
that we all have as seafaring nations.
What the space station provides
is our chance to become
a spacefaring civilization.
My name is Bill Shepherd, and I was
the commander of Expedition 1,
the first crew on the space station
that came aboard in November of 2001.
When I was a young boy,
the space program was starting
and everybody wanted to be an astronaut.
I didn't really have
a good prospect of that
until I was through college
and in the navy,
and a chance came up to apply
for the space shuttle program,
and that's how I got to NASA.
When I was little, I used to cut up
two-by-fours and make little boats.
I'm still in the boat-building business.
It's just in orbit.
I don't really know why I was chosen
to be the commander
for the first expedition.
In my time in the navy
I worked with many foreign counterparts
and there was a great amount
of common sense
and a little bit of kind of
backyard diplomacy required for that.
I don't know if that was why I got
picked, but that helped me a great deal.
There was a lot of controversy
when I was named
to be the leader of the first crew.
I had two exceptional Russian cosmonauts
as crewmates,
but many
of the political leadership in Russia
were quite unhappy
that, from their standpoint,
the Americans had taken over
their space program.
My name is Ginger Kerrick.
I am currently a division chief
in the Flight Integration Division
at NASA Johnson Space Center.
In the summer of '95,
I took my application
and marched it down to the astronaut
selection office, turned it in.
They had received over 3,000 applicants
and had selected 120 to interview,
and I was one of the 120.
I was 26 years old and I thought,
"Oh, my gosh, my dream has come true."
But when we went through interview week,
they did medical tests
and they found that I had kidney stones,
and there was a new medical
disqualification enacted that year
that if your body shows the ability
to form a single stone,
it is a lifetime disqualification
from consideration.
So I was devastated,
but I had started this new job
where I got to teach astronauts
in the Mission Operations Directorate,
and I thought,
well, maybe astronaut wasn't for me.
Maybe there's another path
that I was destined to take.
Maybe I'm 26 years old
and I don't have everything figured out,
so how about I be open-minded
and see where this leads?
Do you wanna go through these procedures
or do you want a general tour?
- General tour would be excellent.
- OK, let's start up here.
I was assigned
to support the first crew
that was getting ready to fly on board
the yet-to-be-constructed
International Space Station.
So I got assigned
to Captain William Shepherd,
Sergei Krikalev and Yuri Gidzenko.
Here's the person
who's going to live in there.
Sergei, clean up your room.
Open the door and throw everything out.
Those guys were great.
From an age perspective,
Yuri was more my age,
Sergei was about the age
of my older brother,
and Shep was 20 years older
and kind of like a father figure.
So managing those three personalities
took a unique skill set.
This was a new vehicle.
It had components
from 15 different countries.
The pieces were not gonna come together
until they met each other in orbit.
Many of the techniques and procedures
we needed to operate it
had not been written yet.
So our training was very much
"fly by the seat of your pants."
It was a wonderful experience,
and if I had never watched the news,
I would never have suspected
that there would be any antagonism
between Russia and the US,
based on my experience.
Both of us have been in competition
since the early '60s,
trying to get to space,
the old space race,
but now we recognize that if we're gonna
go beyond low-Earth orbit,
if we're gonna go to the Moon or Mars,
the only way to do that
is to do it together.
When we did land survival, we did
it in the winter outside of Moscow,
and it was very wet and cold.
We were in a boilerplate capsule,
as if we had just landed,
we got out in our survival suits,
and we had to build a little camp
and then survive.
It was an extremely good experience
to bond the crew,
and for time for us
to really get to know each other
and contribute to what each of us
could offer as strengths and weaknesses.
We've been here for two days.
Our launch is three days away,
on Tuesday.
Everything in the vehicle looks
ready to go. Crew's well trained.
We've been ready for probably a year
to go fly in space.
It's just kind of a quiet time,
thinking about everything we have to do
once we start flying,
and Tuesday morning we'll be ready.
Beth, any thoughts?
Just still, I think, hard to believe
that we're actually here,
and just looking forward
to watching a great launch, so...
We launched
on the 31st of October, 2000.
We're out in Baikonur
way out in the desert in Kazakhstan.
We sign our names
to the door of the room that we're in.
I drew a little picture
of Space Station.
Bill Shepherd's now joined
by Johnson Space Center Director,
Mr George Abbey.
This is just before
the crew members were set
to head over to the suit-up room
this morning shortly after wake-up.
We have a little breakfast,
and then we go out
to the launch pad in a bus.
Bill Shepherd,
the commander of Expedition 1,
Along with Yuri Gidzenko
and Sergei Krikalev, now boarding a bus.
The crew members will again head over
to the suit-up room.
The Russian approach to rules
is often quite different than the US,
and that's one of the things
you get to appreciate sometimes.
In the United States,
we have a very regimented procedure
for how you deal with friends and family
right before the launch.
I waved goodbye to my wife
about two hours before we launched,
and then we're driving away in the bus
and I saw her through the window.
But then right as we're getting ready
to go out to the rocket,
she surprised me from behind.
Whoa! This was...
It was great, but it was just
kind of an unexpected moment
that you would not find
in the US program.
Bill Shepherd, on the
left... on the right of the commander.
Now heading to the launch pad.
I was in Baikonur, Kazakhstan,
and as soon as they shut the hatch,
I started hyperventilating,
because I felt like
my brother and my dad, basically,
were locked on a rocket,
and I couldn't process that.
And one of the Russian generals got me
and he's moving me through the crowd,
and he says...
That means,
"It's the mother of the crew."
And he was trying to part the crowd
so I could see my crew on video,
and it made me feel a lot better.
We became a family, and we all still
stay in touch to this day,
so it was a wonderful experience.
- Ignition.
- T-minus ten seconds, nine...
The day, it was very foggy.
We wouldn't have launched
in the United States
because you need
a little bit of visibility,
which we didn't have that day
in Kazakhstan,
but the Russians fired up
and flew right through it.
Lift-off of the Soyuz rocket,
beginning the first expedition
to the International Space Station
and setting the stage
for permanent human presence in space.
Physically, you feel the heat,
you feel the vibrations,
but I guess because I had
such a personal connection to them,
it felt... I could feel it here.
It was this culmination of the actual
physical event that was going on
but actually
the last four years of my life
and the personal connection I had
with these people.
It was overwhelming and I don't know
that I can describe what it felt like
to watch that particular crew launch.
It's uncomfortable,
somewhat awkward,
but the vehicle itself was very safe
and we had a good ride to orbit,
and my sense of surety, if you will,
that we were gonna have a good mission
was pretty high.
In a few seconds,
we will have the docking,
the first mechanical contact.
Six meters distance.
Five. Four.
Four.
Three meters.
- Two meters.
- Two.
Three.
- And...
- And...
Contact.
We have a successful docking.
- The people are applauding here.
- I can confirm that.
So the first crew of the International
Space Station have reached their home.
We docked on the second of November.
It took a while to equalize the pressure
and then open the hatch,
and then our mission started.
OK, it's this.
You might think
the commander wanted to be
the first one through the hatch,
but I really didn't wanna do that
for two reasons.
One is Sergei and Yuri
had had a lot of experience
with docking and opening hatches
and doing it correctly.
I was the neophyte.
I didn't think it was my place to get
in front of them and try and do that.
But the second thing was,
as the commander,
I wanted one of them to have the honor
of being the first one in.
We had about an hour and a half
before we were headed over Europe
and we were gonna have
a live press conference with the ground.
And we had to find a TV cable,
we had to hook it up, set the TV up,
turn the lights on,
make sure the sound was right.
We couldn't find any of this stuff.
So we're scrambling around
inside the module like madmen
to figure out what this stuff was
and where to set it up,
and we did it just in time.
Just as the crackling started
when the radio said
we're in contact with the ground
and we turned the TV on and it was done.
It was frantic.
The first expedition on Space Station
requests permission
to take the radio call sign Alpha.
Temporarily taken as Alpha.
Go ahead.
Have a good day.
The little red light went off,
we turned the camera off,
and we were just sitting there saying
we're done with the day.
I grew up in rural Iowa,
in the south-western part of the state,
on a farm.
Closest town had 32 people
when I was growing up.
It's now, like, only 11 or so,
so it's pretty rural.
Not a lot of folks around.
The cornfields, the soybean rows,
the rolling hills,
it's just a beautiful area to grow up.
The night skies, of course,
are wonderful.
There's just
not a lot of light pollution around.
I remember as a kid
looking at the stars
and watching for meteorites
as they would enter the atmosphere.
OK, Neil, we can see you
coming down the ladder now.
OK, [ just checked,
getting back up
to that first step, Buzz.
It's not even collapsed too far,
but it's adequate to get back up.
The night of the Moon landing,
July 20th, 50 years ago,
which is kind of amazing to me
to think of at this point,
but I was nine years old,
and that was past our bedtime.
So it was a big deal to even just get
to stay up and watch in our pajamas
as they took those first steps
on the Moon.
OK, I'm gonna step off the LM now.
That's one small step for man,
one giant leap for mankind.
It left an imprint in me,
gave me a desire to want to be
an explorer like those guys.
My name is Peggy Whitson,
and I'm a former astronaut.
As a youngster I was pretty quiet.
I didn't really tell a lot of people
I wanted to become an astronaut.
It wasn't until I got to college
that I started sharing my goal.
My parents were always
extremely supportive,
even though I really don't think
my mother much cared for the idea
of me getting into a rocket.
I applied to be an astronaut
for a course of ten years
before I was selected.
Over those ten years they were
having selections every two years
and I was being rejected
on a bi-yearly cycle,
getting these wonderful little postcards
saying I was rejected.
I think just some of that
farmer-stubborn,
never-give-up kind of thing
kept me going.
Looking back on it,
it doesn't seem rational or logical
that I would keep pushing
and keep pushing,
and keep trying
in spite of being rejected all the time.
"Dear younger me.
You just watched on TV
as Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin
took the first steps on the Moon.
That moment in time
planted a seed of inspiration in you.
Now it's up to you to nourish that seed
and grow it into more than just a dream.
It will be ten years of applying
before ever becoming an astronaut.
The rejections will be discouraging,
but in your typical style,
you will just keep trying.
All those years of anticipation
will be surpassed
when the solid rocket boosters ignite
and you are literally
roaring into space."
Peggy Whitson, rocketing
towards the International Space Station.
"Believe it or not,
you will spend more time in space
than any other American astronaut
and earn the nickname Space Ninja.
You will grow soybeans on orbit, while
your father will grow soybeans on Earth.
You will walk in space ten times.
You will find that living in space
can actually become a home.
You will be a role model.
I'm still struggling with this one,
so you need to step up a bit earlier
than I have done.
You will learn that you are so much more
than you are capable of
and more than you might imagine
or even dream.
Sincerely, the older you."
I remember having this recurring,
it wasn't really a dream,
it was more like just this idea,
this feeling.
I know it sounds weird,
and I'm not kind of a believer
in this kind of weird stuff like this,
but it's true, I had this feeling
that someday I would live
in a really small space,
and it wouldn't be
particularly unpleasant being there.
And once I flew into space
and lived in the crew quarters
on the International Space Station,
it just seemed like my childhood memory.
Very strange.
My name's Scott Kelly.
I am a former NASA astronaut.
Spent a lot of time
on the space station.
Over 500 days.
My family was me, my twin brother, Mark,
my mom and dad,
who were both police officers.
I was a very rambunctious kid
that could not pay attention in school.
I know that's somewhat counter-intuitive
to what people think of an astronaut.
You think, "That guy's an astronaut.
He must have been the smartest kid
in the class, the overachiever."
But that was not me.
I was the kid
in the back of the room,
always distracted,
looking out the window,
looking at the clock,
trying to make it go faster.
I was a good kid, you know.
But I had no motivation at all
to do anything related to school.
Thinking back to when we were kids,
I don't know how our mother didn't,
like, send us away to some home.
We were probably teenagers
when finally she says,
"Can you guys
just please stop running everywhere?"
And I felt, like, "It's not possible.
I cannot not run everywhere,"
or do whatever seemed like
taking unnecessary risk as a kid.
I went to college
because I didn't know what else to do,
and that seemed like the thing to do,
so I went,
but really was
on kind of that fast-track
to being a, you know,
first-year college dropout.
Then one day
I'm just walking across the campus
and I happen to go
into the college bookstore,
saw this book on the end of the aisle,
had a really cool title,
it had a red, white and blue cover,
just made me wanna pick it up,
looked exciting.
I remember just lying there
for a few days
on my unmade,
college freshman, dorm-room bed
and just read the stories of the fighter
pilots that later became test pilots
that became the original Mercury,
Gemini and Apollo astronauts.
The book was "The Right Stuff"
by Tom Wolfe.
It inspired me
to want to do what they did.
Sometimes you mention that to people
and they're, like,
you know, 18-year-old kid
reads a book,
decides he or she is gonna become
a NASA astronaut.
That's a giant leap.
But, in retrospect, really what it was
was a bunch of much, much smaller,
manageable steps,
just one built upon the other.
Become good student,
go into the military,
fly fighter planes
off the aircraft carrier,
become a test pilot,
and then maybe
at least I would have a chance.
I did apply.
My twin brother also applied.
I figured there was no way I was gonna
get selected, so I loaned him my suit.
Then they call me
a couple of months later, tell me,
"Hey, we wanna interview you as well."
So I tell my brother, "Hey, Mark,
NASA called me for an interview,
but you understand, you know,
you gotta buy me a new suit, right,
'cause just how ridiculous
would that look,
me showing up in the same clothes?"
But he didn't.
So I have the only suit that's been
selected to be an astronaut twice.
OK, Scott, the weather's great,
Endeavour's ready to fly
after four and a half years,
so good luck, Godspeed
and have some fun up there.
Well, thanks, Mike.
We'll see you in a couple of weeks,
and thanks for loaning us
your space shuttle.
Good, Scott. Thanks a lot. Take
good care of that great ship Endeavour.
T-minus ten,
nine, eight, seven, six.
Go for main engines start.
Four, three, two, one, zero.
And lift-off of space shuttle Endeavour.
Endeavour
rolling on to the proper alignment,
heads down, wings level, for the
eight-and-a-half-minute ride to orbit,
taking aim on the International
Space Station for docking on Friday.
It looks like the space shuttle
lifts off slowly.
When you're inside of it,
there is nothing slow about that.
It's seven million pounds of thrust
instantly on your back
and you feel like
you can feel every pound of it.
One minute, 30 seconds into the flight.
Endeavour currently traveling
almost 2,000 miles an hour.
You know you are
in this incredibly complex machine
that is operating
at really the limits of our ability
to produce energy in a spacecraft.
Feel every pound
of that seven million pounds of thrust.
It is absolutely crazy.
Booster rockets are confirmed staging.
A good solid rocket booster separation.
Guidance now converging.
Endeavour traveling almost 4,000
miles an hour, 47 miles in altitude.
We're coming up
on the point of negative return,
where the shuttle
will be too far down range,
too high in altitude
to return to the launch site
in the event of an engine failure.
Endeavour, negative return.
Negative return.
Standing by
for external tank separation.
External tank separation confirmed.
Endeavour now in its preliminary orbit.
Commander Scott Kelly now maneuvering
Endeavour to the correct orientation.
Copy. Nominal MECO.
OMS-1 is not required.
A smooth climb to orbit
for Endeavour
and its seven crew members, heading for
what could be two weeks in space
and a visit
to the International Space Station
with docking planned
for Friday afternoon.
As a glass artist,
I'm inspired by the planets.
Actually, I've always been inspired
by the planets.
Even when I was a kid,
I loved looking up at the stars.
Glass is just sand.
It's part of the Earth.
When it's hot, glass is alive.
It has an inner light.
It is a weird twist of fate
that I was making planets
and making space-related artwork
long before Cady and I met.
My name is Josh Simpson.
My wife, Cady Coleman, is an astronaut.
Cady Coleman,
Paolo Nespoli and Dmitri Kondratyev
head toward
the International Space Station.
Soyuz lighting up the night sky
there at the Baikonur Cosmodrome.
It's a good pitch program
according to flight controllers.
Thrusters are stable.
The Soyuz is delivering
102 tons of thrust
from its four boosters
and single engine.
The first stage of the Soyuz
measures 68 feet in length
and 24 feet in diameter.
It is burning liquid fuel
for the first two minutes
and six seconds of the flight.
There's this burst of light
and this rocket just lifts majestically
up into the air.
As it goes higher up into the sky,
the light gets brighter,
until it diminishes and just becomes
this little, bright pinpoint of light.
It's amazing to think that someone
that you love is that pinpoint of light.
A live view inside the Soyuz.
Paolo Nespoli there
on the right-hand side.
Dmitri Kondratyev
there in the middle seat.
He is the commander of the spacecraft.
And on the left-hand side's
Cady Coleman.
Parameters of the launch vehicle
are normal.
OK, copy. Everything is normal on board.
A hundred and fifty seconds.
I'm Cady Coleman.
I'm an astronaut who lived on
the space station for almost six months.
My dad worked on the SEALAB program,
where men first lived under the sea,
and I think it became normal to me
that it just was part of life,
that people would live in places
that not many people lived.
The bottom of the ocean
was part of our world,
we just hadn't been there yet.
I loved being underwater
and having it be effortless,
where you could breathe
and you could see,
and I felt like I was in somebody else's
world and I got to explore it.
One of my favorite places
on the space station is our cupola.
It is amazing up here.
Windows on all sides.
When I found out
that I got accepted as an astronaut,
I had been dating a really nice guy
who lived in Western Massachusetts
that I had met by basically
calling a wrong phone number.
One night, the phone rang
and I answered the phone, and I said,
"Hello. What do you want?"
And this perfectly nice woman said,
"Is this Peter?"
And I said, "No, this is not Peter.
My name is Olga Isnitchko
Eavorskayagoopdamehamatalliaihgatana."
And she said, "I'm so sorry.
I thought you were Peter Masters.
I'm looking for his wife, Amy."
And when she said that,
I knew who she was looking for,
because Amy had worked
in my studio years before.
And so I said,
"Well, if you want to find Amy,
you have to look
in the telephone directory,
but when you get Amy on the phone,
you must say hello from Olga Isnitchko
Eavorskayagoopdamehamatalliaihga."
She was so polite,
and I just kept pulling her leg.
And so I made her practice this name
over and over and over again,
and she finally got it, and I hung up.
But when she got her friend Amy
on the phone, she said,
"There's this really weird man
at the place where you worked,
you used to work."
And Amy just cracked up and said,
"That's Josh.
He disguises his voice at night.
He hates... He doesn't wanna get
an answering machine."
And so Cady decided to call me back.
And so she called me back
with a Russian accent,
and she said she was from Russian KGB
and there had been numerous reports
of glass-breaking.
And I said,
"I'm not Russian. I'm Bulgarian.
And she said,
"We do them too, and you're history."
When we met, it was obvious to me
that we should be together.
It took her a long time
to come around to that viewpoint.
When you tell people
that you live in Houston
and your boyfriend
lives in Western Massachusetts,
they look at you, like,
"Well, that's gonna last."
And so we invented a new word
which was "sweetheart,"
which seemed somehow more long-term.
But I was really glad
that I sort of already knew the person
I was gonna spend
the rest of my life with.
Before I applied, before, there was
sort of this aspect of this job
that's hard for people
to get their arms around.
What does it mean?
What does it mean for her?
What does it mean for me?
What's our life gonna be like?
It was really nice
to have already met somebody
that already seemed to love
all those things about me.
When Cady was accepted as an
astronaut, the first thing that happened
was that you have to show up to work
at Johnson Space Center in Houston.
And so when Jamey was born,
we knew that either
Jamey was going to have to travel,
or, because I have a glass studio here,
it turned out that I became
the prime parent and Cady would travel,
and I've always understood
that I'm gonna be the prime parent.
When Cady got first assigned
even to her first mission,
I was pretty worried
about what was gonna happen to her,
whether she was gonna be safe,
whether it was gonna be OK,
until I was kind of an emotional wreck.
But then it occurred to me that
there are literally thousands of people
who are concerned
with her safety and well-being,
and nothing that I'm doing,
nothing, no amount of worry,
no amount of stress on my part
was gonna help one way or the other.
And I also thought about the fact
that Cady took this job
because, well, she wanted to do
that kind of exploration,
she also knew full well
the dangers involved.
And she's completely...
I don't think she wants to die,
but I think she's willing to make that
sacrifice if that's the way it works.
And I just thought, "Well,
if my sweetheart is willing to do that,
then I should just let go there."
It's gonna fine,
or it's not gonna be fine,
but nothing that I'm gonna do or say
is gonna make any difference.
And that works right until
you get to the, "Ten, nine, eight..."
And then, of course,
all of that's out the window.
You're completely...
There's just this flow of worry
and pride and frightened emotion,
and then the rocket goes off
and about eight minutes later
they're in space.
Bye, Cady.
Josh,
Cady's ticket to ride is behind you
here on the launch pad
at the Baikonur Cosmodrome.
Your thoughts as you saw
this whole process. Amazing for you?
Just a whole cascade
of thoughts, really,
that this is, for Cady, the culmination
of a dream, a lifetime of preparation.
This is the spot where Yuri Gagarin
left from and where Sputnik left from,
and where my sweetheart is going to go.
It's very significant.
I think she's ready,
although, knowing my wife,
she'll be packing right to the last
instant before she goes on board.
The morning that she took off,
we woke up in the middle of the night,
it must have been two in the morning,
and we drove to the launch site.
It was really cold.
We were a mile away,
but it was just sort of a cement
platform where we viewed the launch,
and it was so cold
that no amount of clothing helped.
The cold just cut right through you.
Here on the ground in
Baikonur, a crowd of family and friends
and NASA officials,
as well as Roscosmos officials,
are watching tonight's launch
less than a mile away
from the Soyuz itself.
It was really challenging for Jamey
at launch because I think that sudden,
"I understand what Dad's
been talking about all this time.
That's a rocket.
That's my mom. She's gone."
And there was
a flood of emotion for him,
and, for me, I was concerned about him
as much as I was concerned for Cady.
And I realize that he was turning to me
and was kind of hanging on to me
and he was in tears.
Watching it go up
was profound for Jamey.
I think he realized that...
his mom was really gone.
Cady Coleman blasted out last week
on board the Soyuz rocket out of Russia,
leaving behind her husband and
ten-year-old son for six months' time.
John, I know that you've been anxious
to talk to Cady up there in space,
so why don't you go first?
Cady, to you,
are you getting settled in?
You got the toothbrush put away
and the socks in the sock drawer?
You know, I've gotten
so I feel actually right at home here,
I think it's just like any other place,
and then sometimes there's things
that remind me that we're in space.
Like this.
- You know, you...
- Take it.
It's another one of those bad-hair days
for Cady up in space.
I remember, like,
saying goodbye to my mom,
like, seeing her walk out
of the sort of prep facility.
And I was, like,
OK, like, this is it, you know.
And I hadn't started crying quite then,
but then when I saw the rocket
ascending into the sky,
I was, like, wow,
my mom isn't here.
It really brought me to tears
'cause it was just, like,
wow, my mom
isn't on the planet any more.
My name is Koichi Wakata.
I'm a JAXA astronaut.
I flew in space four times.
I went to the International
Space Station three times.
I was born and grew up
in the north of Tokyo.
When I was five years old,
I had a strong longing
for flying in space
when I saw the Apollo lunar landing.
At the time,
there were no Japanese astronauts,
so, even for a small boy,
it seemed like an unreachable goal.
When we go to deep space,
like to Mars,
it takes 20 minutes for the conversation
to go through the distance
between the Earth and Mars,
and so the real-time conversation
is not going to happen.
I think this kind of Al buddy
may be very helpful
for your psychological boost.
The space station is a spacecraft
in low-Earth orbit.
The purpose of the space station
is to serve as a laboratory,
and it's an outpost to utilize
the unique environment of micro-gravity,
zero gravity, basically,
in order to conduct a variety
of experiments in science and technology
that can benefit the lives
of many people around the world.
We have only six crew members usually.
Each one of the crew members is tasked
to lead a certain part of the work
on board the space station.
Of course, we all have to be able
to function in case of an emergency.
We have to have a basic understanding
of the operational skills
of the systems on board.
A one-week, two-week flight
can pass really quickly,
but I noticed that after you spend
more than a month,
I felt sort of like a difference.
It's not like a business trip any more.
It's like I'm living in a new home
away from home.
Change up. Here we go.
Of course, I truly enjoyed
my camaraderie with my crewmates.
That part is great.
- It looks good. Thank you.
- Alright, sure.
But it was tough to be separated
from the family for many months.
How's it going? How was school?
- Pretty good.
- Pretty good?
Alright, well, I'm gonna let you go.
Is that right? OK.
Alright, I'll look for it.
- Yeah.
- Love you. Bye.
Do not be going in there, bro. Get out!
The top floor's collapsed down.
I saw it blow and then ran like hell.
Hey, Steve, how's it going?
Well, Frank, we're not having
a very good day down here on Earth.
We had no live newscast
or active internet.
We had to rely on the ground to tell us
what was going on in those early days.
I called the ground,
and he began to describe the aircraft
crashing into the World Trade Center.
Shortly before I called,
the Pentagon had been hit.
And then while we were talking,
the plane had crashed in Pennsylvania,
and he told me about that.
It was clear to me we were under attack.
I looked at the map of the world
that we keep up on one of the laptops,
and I realized
that we were crossing Canada
and that we would be
right over New York,
and I realized we were gonna be
over New England in a few seconds.
So I signed off, raced around,
found a video camera and a window
facing in the right direction,
and as we crossed Maine,
I could look back on New York City.
And of course the whole US
was clear of clouds that day,
it was a gorgeous day,
and I could clearly see a big column
of smoke rising out of Manhattan,
out over Long Island
and over the Atlantic.
And I zoomed in with the video camera,
and as I did, this big, grey cloud
enveloped southern Manhattan.
It turned out later what I was seeing
was the second tower collapse.
I told the guys, "90 minutes from now,
when we come back over the US,
I want every camera we've got
pointed at the ground.
As we went over Maine,
we could see New York City
and the smoke from the fires.
Our prayers and thoughts
go out to all the people there
and everywhere else here.
I'm looking up and down the east coast
to see if I can see anything else.
Frank,
that's an accurate assessment.
All the contrails which normally
cover the country in a spider web
had disappeared,
because they had grounded
all the airplanes.
That really brought it home that
this was a totally different world now.
They had had to evacuate the federal
facility where our mission control was
and move them
to an undisclosed location,
which I still don't know where it was.
So we were operating
with Moscow primarily,
and they were
very supportive, sympathetic,
and trying to give us
as much information as they could.
Whenever one of their specials
would come on to talk to us
about a system or an experiment
or whatever, they would frequently say,
"Where's Frank?",
you know, "How's Frank doing?"
It was very meaningful,
'cause I knew them all by name,
and they would express their condolences
and they were really sorry
for what happened.
Interesting thing is, 94 Russians
also died in the World Trade Center,
and we had no idea, at that time,
how many from overseas were there
and lost their lives.
The next day,
I got a call from TJ Creamer,
who was my support astronaut
on the ground, and he said,
"Frank, I've got some bad news."
And it turned out that my classmate
from the Naval Academy,
who was classmates with Shep and myself,
was the captain
of America Airlines Flight 77
that was crashed into the Pentagon.
Chic was an F-4 pilot, like me,
he was an aerospace engineer,
we had actually played in the drum
and bugle corps together for a while,
so we were friends.
And so he had died in that crash.
I could only imagine
what it was like for him.
I didn't find out much
until after I returned
about what the particulars were
of that flight,
but I felt sure he had fought
as much as he could.
It really brought it home to me and
it made it very personal at that point.
I would like to send a message
from the station down in memory of Chic
and of all of our graduates who perished
and of all the victims of this tragedy,
something that has
never been done before from space.
So I'd like to ask all of you to rise
for a moment of silence
as we play something from
International Space Station Alpha.
September 12th, 2001, 1934 hours.
One day after the attacks of 9/11.
Well, obviously the world changed today.
What I say or do is very minor
compared to the significance
of what happened to our country.
The most overwhelming feeling,
being where I am, is one of isolation.
It's difficult to describe how it feels
to be the only American
completely off the planet
at a time such as this.
The feeling that I should be there
with all of you, dealing with this,
helping in some way, is overwhelming.
It's horrible to see smoke
pouring from wounds in your own country
from such a fantastic vantage point.
The dichotomy of being on a spacecraft
dedicated to improving life on the Earth
and watching life being destroyed
by such willful, terrible acts
is jolting to the psyche,
no matter who you are.
And the knowledge that everything
will be different than when we launched
by the time we land
is a little disconcerting.
I miss all of you very much.
I can't be with you there in person,
and we have a long way to go
to complete our mission,
but be certain that my heart is with you
and know you are in my prayers.
Humbly, Frank.
I grew up in a tiny little
village in the Italian Alps called Mal.
Two thousand souls.
Growing up, I had the fortune
of having this beautiful starry sky
at night, you know.
It was just this very personal
connection to the sky.
This dream of flying to space,
become an astronaut,
I think it arose
out of a combination of things,
and it's very difficult to pinpoint
exactly what makes you fancy things
in this world of childhood.
I'm Samantha Cristoforetti
and I'm an astronaut
with the European Space Agency.
We had started out
with over 8,000 applicants,
and then here we were,
after a year, only ten of us.
Ten young Europeans
from different countries.
At that point
we were almost all in touch.
There was going to be
a press conference,
and the European Space Agency
was going to announce,
here are our new astronauts.
And two days before that at nine o'clock
at night, we still had not heard.
I mean, my level of tension
was way up there.
I just felt
that I couldn't take it anymore.
And then all of a sudden there was
this email, and it's like,
"Dear Miss Cristoforetti..."
You just felt like
the universe had stopped
and it turned back
and smiled at me at that time.
The fact that you are selected
as an astronaut is huge, you know.
You're not any more
one of the thousands, ten thousands,
maybe millions of people
who dream of becoming astronauts.
You actually are selected
to train as an astronaut.
But then this new
phase of your life comes
when you're just waiting and hoping
that this moment is going to come
and is going to come soon.
One of the greatest memories I have
from the time leading up
to my space flight is being in Baikonur.
That's where we launched from.
And you go to Baikonur twice.
You go to Baikonur
before your own launch,
and you go to Baikonur
six months before,
when you are actually the back-up crew.
So, you are, in theory, ready to fly
instead of the prime crew
if the prime crew has an issue.
And we were down there,
Terry, Anton and myself,
in May 2014, as the back-up crew,
and that was the most wonderful time.
We are usually allowed to go out
and have a jog
with other people
who are in quarantine with us.
We kind of bend the rules because
we'd just go out without any escort.
And basically what I wanted to do,
I had a bottle with me,
and I had put in
a picture of the three of us.
We had signed thousands
of those pictures in the days before,
and so I had grabbed one
with our signature,
and I had added an email address
that I had just done for that purpose.
And I thought,
"We'll just throw it in the river
and then maybe
some mysterious inhabitant of the steppe
one day will write back to us."
We are about to come back
and we realize a little bit upstream
there are, like, these wild horses,
such a beautiful image.
There were probably, maybe
20, 30 of those, and they had come,
there were no people,
just the wild horses,
and they had come to drink at the river.
And it was such a beautiful,
powerful scene, you know.
And for me it was just something
that brought me into the emotional mood
of then watching the launch
in the night.
And lift-off.
The international crew on their way
to the International Space Station.
Right now, looking good.
First stage performance. The Soyuz
delivering 930,000 pounds of thrust.
That's four boosters
and single core and engine.
We like to say in the space business,
you don't know
that you're going to space
until, you know, that rocket that you're
sitting on is actually taking off.
TMA-15M.
Three new crew members headed
to the International Space Station,
Anton Shkaplerov,
Samantha Cristoforetti and Terry Virts,
on their way to a six-month voyage
aboard the International Space Station.
A minute, ten seconds into flight,
traveling about 1100 miles per hour.
When you're sitting inside the Soyuz
and you're approaching Space Station,
you do not really see it.
What you see is like
a black and white image on the camera.
I mean, there's windows to the sides,
but you basically will not see
Space Station as you approach.
And that was my case.
However, when you get
to around 40, 50 meters out,
if you look out to the side,
you will start to catch a glimpse of it.
And here are like the solar panels
of the ISS, of the space station,
which are just gigantic,
which, of course,
I know in my mind how big they are,
but I've never actually seen them,
so, you know, this huge size.
But then, on top of that,
at that moment of transition,
and it's just really a few seconds
between daylight and night,
the Sun is basically lying
very low on the horizon
and it's just this spot of orange,
and the light that comes in that moment
is this very bright orange light.
It's so overwhelming.
I had this feeling they were, like,
burning, they were like in flames.
Oh, my God.
I'm going, "Oh, my God, oh, my God."
And then of course
you hear Anton, my commander,
he's going like
which means, "Be quiet, be quiet."
Whatever I say is heard on the Earth,
you know, all the control centers.
It's not my proudest moment
from a professional point of view.
On the other hand, I'm also very happy
that it happened at that moment
because it made it so special,
the arrival to Space Station.
Actually, the moment
when we opened the hatch
and I floated into Space Station,
that was a moment of sheer happiness.
You open the hatch,
there's people out there waiting for you
who are welcoming you
into this new place and this new life,
and in a way
it felt like a new birth, you know,
and it was
incredibly, incredibly intense.
It's the end of all that preparation
and that initial journey,
and it's the beginning
of this experience
that I had looked forward to
for so long.
If you imagine our view,
from the space station, of the planet
as a show that planet Earth
puts on scene for us,
it's mute, it has no sound.
It's just an incredibly powerful
visual spectacle.
Just an incredibly beautiful view
when it's alive
because it changes all the time
and there's always something new
to discover.
Columbia-Houston, comm check.
Columbia-Houston, UHF comm check.
Columbia-Houston, UHF comm check.
Columbia out of communications
at present with Mission Control.
Flight controllers
are continuing to stand by
to regain communications
with the spacecraft.
- Flight decks.
- Go ahead, Max.
FYI, I've just lost
four separate temperature transducers
on the left side of the vehicle,
the hydraulic return temperatures.
We've also lost
the nose-gear down talkback
and the right main-gear down talkback.
Columbia-Houston, comm check.
CC flight. CC flight.
- What did you say?
- Lock the doors.
Copy.
My name is Ken Bowersox.
I was the commander on Expedition 6.
Astronaut John Glenn
of New Concord, Ohio.
Lieutenant-Colonel, United States...
I decided I wanted to be
an astronaut when I was about seven.
I was in a car with my dad,
and on the radio there was a story
about John Glenn orbiting the Earth.
And I asked my dad what that meant,
and he told me, and I said,
"I think that's what I wanna do
when I grow up."
Our first view of Ken Bowersox
outside the hatch to the Quest airlock
as the International Space Station
skirts just to the east
of Rio de Janeiro.
Every Saturday morning
was clean-up time,
where we'd grab towels,
wipe down the handrails and vacuum.
We had a Saturday morning
teleconference scheduled.
We went in to start the teleconference
and the folks in Mission Control
asked us to just stand by.
It was usual that,
because it was Saturday morning,
the folks in Houston wanted
to get that teleconference over
as quickly as possible 'cause some
people wanted to go home, right?
So for them to ask us to wait
was a little bit different.
The center director
of Johnson Space Center came on
and told us
that Columbia had been lost on entry.
There was a lot of different meanings
to that for us.
The first was, well, what's happened
to our friends who are on Columbia?
'Cause we knew those folks,
we worked with them in the office,
would fly with them in the T-38s,
sat in meetings with them,
talked to them in the hallways.
So the first thing was,
"What's happened to them?" you know.
Is there any chance
that they made it through?
Folks on the ground have been real good
about reducing our schedule
and we've had time
to grieve our friends.
And that was very important.
When you're up here this long,
you can't just bottle up your emotions
and focus all the time.
It's important for us to acknowledge
that the people on STS-107
were our friends,
that we had a connection with them,
and that we feel their loss.
The next impact to us was, well,
what does that mean for us to come home?
Since the space shuttles
were under review,
we had to decide
when it would be safe to fly one again
and how to fly it safely.
The decision was made for us
to come home a different way,
to come home in a Soyuz spacecraft.
So we're packing up gear
to be returned home aboard shuttles
when they start flying again.
We'll have some refresher training to do
over the next month and a half or so.
My family spent most of their time
worrying about the people
that were affected on the ground,
the effect on the spouses
for the crew of Columbia.
But they also had a lot of inquiries
from different people
wanting to know how they felt
with their husbands up in space,
knowing that it was a risky business.
Everybody wanted to know
what we thought about the risk.
Let me start by sort of comparing
what a Soyuz flight is like
compared to a return in a space shuttle.
The space shuttle is a lot more
like flying on an airliner,
and the return from space is
very similar to flying on an airliner,
except you go from being weightless
to having your perceived weight be maybe
one and a half times your normal weight.
And then the final approach
is like a steep glide in an airliner
and you touch down on a runway.
It feels very much like any touchdown
from an international flight.
On a Soyuz, you get in, it's smaller,
everything is more compact.
Instead of sitting up,
like you would on an airliner,
you're kind of laying on your back,
and it's a much quicker trip home.
It's only a few hours back to Earth
rather than a day and a half or two
in a space shuttle.
It's a little bit more
like a carnival ride.
And Expedition 6
now officially on its way back home,
with landing a little more
than three hours from now.
The flight gets most interesting
when you start to get down
into the atmosphere.
First thing you see
is some glowing light
coming off the side of the capsule
and any other parts around it.
You see a bright orange glow
outside the windows.
You might see little droplets running
along the window that look like water
but are really something melted
on the spacecraft.
At this point
the crew should be feeling
the maximum G-load on the re-entry.
We realized that we were having
an off-nominal type of entry
called a ballistic descent.
Once you reach
the ballistic descent mode,
there's not a lot for the crew
to interact with on the spacecraft,
and so you have some spare moments
to think about what you're doing
and to realize how little control
you have over the situation,
how you're trusting the engineers
who designed
and the technicians
who built that spacecraft,
and how everything's gotta work
if you're gonna survive.
I'm in the helicopter with the chief
of the astronaut office, Bob Cabana,
and they say, "OK, we're in touch
with the crew. We're hearing the crew."
But it was a very faint call.
I could tell my boss
was really, really worried.
He said, "Why is the signal faint?
Can they hear them?"
I said, "They can't hear them.
They heard them on the radio
and then it disappeared.
Bob Cabana was like,
"Oh, no, we've lost another crew."
They said, "They did a ballistic entry."
To mean they're 400 kilometers away,
off-course,
and not in the right place,
not where we are.
When the parachutes come out, you get
rocked all around, shaken, rotated.
It feels pretty violent.
Again, that's where it feels
most like a carnival ride.
And then it gets peaceful,
and you coast and coast and coast down
underneath the parachutes.
There's sort of a big bang
as you hit the ground.
It feels like a car collision.
The vehicle gets drug a little bit
by the parachute if you have any wind,
and that jostles the crew around a bit,
and then everything gets quiet.
Absolutely quiet.
You start to smell the smoke from the
rockets. You smell the grass outside.
You look out the window
and you can see the brown of the dirt
and the green of the grass,
and you know you're back on Earth.
We sat there
trying to talk to people on the radio,
and we weren't able to reach anybody.
After being there about 30 minutes,
we decided we should get out,
and Nikolai reached up and opened the
hatch and crawled out of the spacecraft,
and I followed him after that,
and Don came third.
We finally get there
after six hours to the landing site.
I see Ken and Nikolai and Don
sitting outside of the Soyuz.
There are little yellow buttercups
and daisies out there,
and it's just rolling plains.
I think there are wild horses out there
on that plain.
I said, "Well, how are you feeling?"
"We feel really tired, really weak."
I said, "What were the G's you had
during the entry?"
"Eight G's!" I said, "Really?"
So we kind of get them
into the helicopter.
And Don wants to lie down.
So he's lying down on the floor.
There's not much room.
Ken's kind of propped up
against a fuel tank in this helicopter,
no straps, nothing like that.
And he says, "Don't forget that."
I go, "What?" He says, "That big sack."
He said, "We didn't know if we were ever
gonna get our stuff back.
So we've got all of Don's films
and camera magazines."
And I picked it up and it was like
30, 40 pounds, you know, 20 kilos.
I said, "How did you put this
in the Soyuz?"
And Ken said, "Don had it on his lap."
Eight G's. Eight gravities.
Multiply that times 20 kilos,
that's 160 kilos on Don's chest.
I said, "You've had a... How could you
have put that on Don's chest?"
So, anyway, poor Don was kind of looking
a bit worse for wear
from that journey back to Earth.
I wave to the camera.
We knew it was coming,
and so we were prepared for the G's.
In fact, at the point
where we saw it coming, we said,
"OK, guys, let's get strapped down
in your seats,
"cause it's about to get fun, fast."
In fact, Nikolai was great.
He says, "This is gonna be fun."
- He was great.
- Nikolai said that?
He was like a cheerleader
all the way down,
and we're all straining against the G.
It was... quite an experience.
It's great that we had a chance
to ride in a vehicle
that was on its first flight
into the atmosphere.
And so I feel really lucky.
- Well, there we are.
- That's two.
Annie Bowersox. Annie, it's a great day.
The crew is home safe and sound.
Very successful landing.
How does Ken look?
How excited is he to be back?
He looks great.
He looks exactly the same
as when he left, maybe a little thinner.
And when I first saw him, it was like
the six months had just gone away.
He's eager to see our kids
when we get back to Houston
and we're really excited about that.
The boys are dying to see him.
What do you consider to be
the most important contribution,
legacy, the living history,
of Expedition 6?
What do you think
it will be most remembered for?
I think their flight showed
what an incredible team NASA has become
with their partners.
So much of this flight
was not as planned,
and it's just amazing
and it just clicked.
It's a great team.
Last month
we launched a new spacecraft
as part of a re-energized space program
that will send
American astronauts to Mars.
And in two months,
to prepare us for those missions,
Scott Kelly will begin
a year-long stay in space.
So, good luck, Captain.
Make sure to Instagram it.
We're proud of you.
I thought, you know,
spending a year in space
is gonna be really challenging
psychologically and emotionally.
Eventually I warmed up to the idea.
They had a selection process
and an interview.
It was interesting,
the very last question was,
"So, if you could get
the year-long space mission
or you could be
the chief of the astronaut office,
which would you prefer?"
And I said immediately,
I said, "Chief of the astronaut office."
And, like, two weeks later
somebody else got that job
and I got assigned
to this year-long flight.
From the time you leave the United
States for a Russian Soyuz launch,
it's this whole process
of different traditions.
You have to visit the Kremlin.
You have to go to pay respects
to the cosmonauts in the Russian
and Soviet space program.
You had to look at the bell
and the cannon,
because previous crew members
have done that.
And then, a couple weeks before,
you fly down to Baikonur
and you go through similar
kind of traditions and preparations.
It's a, you know, iconic place.
No, it's not.
Thank you.
Heading to the launch pad,
the van stops in the same spot
that Yuri Gagarin stopped
and got out and peed on the tire.
So we have to get out,
undo our spacesuit,
pee on the tire, get back in,
button your spacesuit up,
and keep heading to the rocket.
You always get a blessing
from a Russian Orthodox priest,
which is generally
pretty cold water in your face.
"Cause they're not your superstitions
and traditions,
they seem a little bit odd,
but, yeah,
one of their big cultural things
is if their friends are going on a trip,
then they have to be there
to say goodbye,
even if that's at a base
of a fully fueled rocket.
There's like 100 people up there
and you're just trying
to get through this crowd.
It's like madness. Crazy.
It's like a big party
at the base of the rocket.
There's smokers out there.
I've seen them. Yeah.
When you're in the Soyuz,
there's some dead time
where you don't have much to do.
So to help you pass the time,
the control center will pipe music
into the capsule.
So the crew picks out some songs.
I had a Bruce Springsteen song
and a Coldplay song.
I can tell you, I didn't pick
Roberta Flack, "Killing Me Softly."
One of the cosmonauts did.
I like the song,
it's a really, really good song,
but it doesn't seem quite appropriate
to have it playing
when you're sitting on basically a bomb
of liquid oxygen and liquid kerosene
that's designed to explode
underneath you.
One of my kids,
I think it was, yeah, my youngest,
when I said,
"I'm going to the year-long mission,"
the reaction I got was, like,
"That's awesome!"
And when Misha called his wife
and said that he was gonna go
to space for a year, she started crying.
So my family was excited.
Maybe that says something about me.
They were, like, excited
to get rid of me for a year.
"Can you go for two?"
I previously had six months in space,
and I can remember six months
being a really long time to be anywhere
where you can't go home
and you're floating,
and, you know, there's just a level
of uncomfortableness
about being in space for a long time.
But like most things,
as you get further away from them,
you remember the great things about it
and you forget the hardship
or the stuff that's hard.
Scott Kelly,
Mikhail Kornienko, and Gennady Padalka,
the all-time record holder
for time in space among all of humanity,
launching flawlessly
and arriving just six hours later.
They made their way in
and were welcomed by the current
Expedition 43 crew on board,
Terry Virts, Samantha Cristoforetti
and Anton Shkaplerov,
who are already
several months into their mission.
But for Scott Kelly
and Mikhail Kornienko,
the first steps into the space station
and their home for the next 340 days.
You miss, you know, your friends,
your family, people on the ground.
You miss the weather.
I always missed rain, the sound of it.
But you miss things like that, the Sun,
miss going outside.
See, we got some creamed spinach,
asparagus and grilled chicken.
It's gonna go on a tortilla.
My spoon.
Can't let the little droplets
get too far.
Surface tension is very important.
If we didn't have surface tension
in space,
we'd be in big trouble
in a lot of areas.
Yeah. Oh!
Oh, man.
That was just made by a chef.
- Yep.
- And it is best before July 2016.
This is probably best before July 2013.
You could actually
keep in touch pretty well.
We have a phone on board.
Generally you can have
a video conference on the weekends,
so you get to see your family.
It's pretty good capability, actually.
You just can't see people in person.
Hi, Dad. How are you doing?
- I'm doing good.
- Yeah?
- Got some visitors showing up tomorrow.
- Awesome.
Have you gotten
your Christmas presents yet?
Yeah, thank you for the T-shirt.
I think I put, like, a bell in there
that was like, "Number One Dad."
- Got the bell and the card too, yeah.
- Yeah.
- And the T-shirt was in there too.
- Yeah.
- Alright, love you, Charlotte.
- Love you too. Talk to you then.
- Bye-bye.
- Bye-bye.
I got Misha behind me.
Waking up too.
A lot of people don't realize this,
but when we're sitting here,
and we're looking at each other,
you're looking at me,
I'm looking at you,
what you see is filtered
by the air we're looking through.
When you're in space
and the only air you're looking through
is between your eye and the visor,
or maybe between your eye
and the window,
it makes everything look
just spectacularly,
brilliantly colored and clear,
because you're looking through nothing,
there's nothing to filter your eye,
whether it's looking at the Earth
or looking at the space station.
And when you're outside, I mean,
it's just incredible. Incredible.
Man, that feels good.
Welcome home.
Back to Earth.
You've reached the voicemail
for Angela and Nigel Peake,
but I'm afraid we're not here
just at the moment.
Please leave us a message. We'll get
back to you as soon as we can.
Thank you very much.
Hello, Angela and Nigel Peake.
This is just your son calling
from the International Space Station.
I'm sorry you're not in,
but I will try and get you later.
My name is Tim Peake,
and I'm an astronaut
with the European Space Agency.
I grew up in Westbourne,
which is a small village in West Sussex.
We had beautiful night skies.
I would, you know, often go out at night
and just look up at the stars,
and really ask myself the big questions
about our place in the universe
and how we got here,
and what created the universe,
and where it's going.
The ability to actually
go up there and travel,
to see what's out there
beyond the boundaries,
was definitely a dream.
Gentlemen, looking great.
Glad to see you both out there together
on the tip of the world.
We thought it very important
to include our children
in everything that was going on,
so they felt very much
a part of that process.
Hello, Daddy.
They were there in Kazakhstan
on launch day.
Tim's wife, Rebecca, beaming
with pride. Not a trace of nerves.
Will you ever be able to look
at the stars in the same way again?
It'll give us something extra
to look at, that's for sure,
now that we know Daddy's up there,
So, yeah,
we'll have something else to look out
for in the night sky, so it'll be great.
I got to see them just before
getting onto the bus as well,
to the launch pad.
By the time you actually say goodbye
to your family and go to the launch pad,
there's a moment there
where you realize,
"OK, this is happening now."
And for me it was a real flick
of a switch in terms of mental focus.
Ten, nine, eight...
You realize
this is it for six months.
Get into the right frame of mind,
because what you're going to do
is quite remarkable.
One!
Hey!
Bye, Daddy! Bye!
Nothing can really prepare you
for that feeling of weightlessness
and how to move your body around.
You feel very clumsy at first.
Your arms and legs are not moving
how you would expect them to,
and you have to use your muscles
in a different way to control yourself.
This could be the worst idea
I've ever had.
Come on. You can do better than that.
OK, so, yeah, I'll just go into a ball
and start spinning,
and then if you wanna
just keep me going round, and...
- Shall I keep you on axis too?
- Yeah, yeah. On axis, that's cool.
Let's go for it. That's good.
That's really fast from my point of
view, but it's not making me feel sick.
The space station is, first
and foremost, a scientific laboratory.
When you change gravity,
you get some quite remarkable results
in many of the experiments
that we're doing.
If you think that all life on Earth
has evolved over billions of years
in a one-G environment,
put them into weightlessness,
we know straightaway
that the human body changes remarkably
just in the first five weeks in space.
Our immune system changes,
our cardiovascular system changes,
our blood volume changes, our skin ages
differently, our eyesight changes.
And that just goes to show
what gravity is doing here on Earth
and what happens when you remove it.
OK, I'll see if I can...
I'm feeling dizzy.
I'll see how quickly it stops.
So definitely felt dizzy initially,
and now it's gone.
- No. It's that quick?
- Yeah. Yeah, completely normal.
- Amazing.
- Yeah.
Crazy.
I was very lucky to have
the opportunity to go on a spacewalk.
Myself and Tim Kopra, my NASA crewmate.
We had to go and repair
one of the solar panels.
It was quite an important task
to get the full power back
up and running to the space station.
Tim Peake
now being moved
by Scott Kelly on the left,
Sergei Volkov on the right,
into the crew-lock section of Quest.
When you first go into the airlock,
you're in there
with so much other equipment.
Everything is making an awful noise.
I mean, we have a lot of metal
on our spacesuits,
so lots of clips, lots of karabiners,
tethers which are gonna
keep things attached.
Everything is clunking around,
making a racket.
As the airlock starts to depressurize
and we go to vacuum,
you notice a lot of that noise
starting to disappear.
We still hear things because they're
being transmitted through our spacesuit,
but, for example, you can get
two metal clips in front of your helmet
and knock them together
and then you won't hear anything at all.
The noise that you have
is just a gentle hum of a fan
blowing air over the back of our heads
through our helmets.
Dropping out of the airlock
and just seeing Earth beneath my feet
for the first time was wonderful.
It's a very calm environment,
a very serene environment.
It's not like a high-adrenaline,
extreme sport.
It's one that's just of awe.
I think spacewalking is probably
the highest risk activity that we do,
and it's actually
physically demanding as well.
It looks very graceful
when you see astronauts out there,
but inside the suit
we're working very, very hard
with moving your fingers and your arms
against the pressure
of a pressurized suit.
One thing that was strange for me
as a pilot
is that in all my years of flying,
of course, if there's an emergency,
one of the first things
you're thinking about is landing.
Where am I gonna land?
How am I going to land?
In space, that's not gonna happen.
You're up there for good.
Our planet
is just a little blue marble
floating in the black void of space.
I make little planets that perhaps
remind one of how small our own Earth is
in relation to the greater universe.
Some kind of a star-base there.
And sometimes just cities.
People actually give us a hard time
because he makes glass planets
and I like to go look for planets.
They seem to like it up here.
Hey, Mom, I made cookies.
Jamey made cookies
two nights in a row.
Oh, I miss you, sweetie-pie.
I love you guys a lot. I miss you.
Love you too.
I love you. I miss you.
- Alright, bye, sweetie.
- Bye.
We could not call Cady,
but she called us.
I think she called us
every single night she was in orbit
except the night before she came back.
It was amazing to have her call us.
We'd talk for a few minutes and then
we'd go back, if it was a clear night,
we'd walk out onto the back porch
and watch her just blaze across the sky.
She would read me,
like, bedtime stories,
or I would just sort of talk to her
in my room about my day, you know.
It was definitely really tough
to not be able to talk in the same way,
and that whenever I needed something,
I would call my mom and be, like,
"Mom, I can't find my pants.
Where are my pants?"
But now that she was on the station,
it was, like, "Sweetie,
I don't know where your pants are,
because I haven't been there
for four months," you know.
People ask me, you know, like,
"What is it like to have your mom
as an astronaut?"
And I'll be, like,
"Well, I mean, it's just Mom."
I look out at the stars
and I see so many stars and planets
and know that, you know,
we have a place in the universe
and it's our job to explore that place.
We need to bring up our children
to recognize and celebrate
the differences among us
and realize that it is
bringing those differences to a team
that allows us to pursue and succeed
in large endeavors,
like having it become normal
that somebody's mom
lives on the space station.
It's very interesting
when you overfly places
that you have a strong connection to.
You are high enough that you can embrace
with one look an entire country.
Like Italy, you can easily see
the whole of it.
Everybody that I know
that I love that lives in there,
I can kind of see them all.
We are flying around the Earth
once every 90 minutes.
Every orbit
is like this embrace of the planet.
There is no one place on the planet
that feels far away.
Everything feels very close,
like your backyard.
Even the strange situation
of thinking that, you know,
there's billions of people on the planet
and there's only six right now
that are not, you know,
confined to the surface,
and it happens to be the six of us.
I think by the end what I had
was a feeling of affection
for the planet as a whole.
It almost makes you feel like the
sentinels that are guarding the Earth,
especially when you fly over it
at night, right?
You almost think, like,
people down there,
you're looking over them
as they're sleeping.
You get that feeling of,
oh, gosh, you know, it's my planet,
I want to protect it.
One of the best parts
of being able
to look at Earth from space
is perspective.
Because you see that planet,
you see how valuable it is,
how tiny-thin that atmosphere is,
and that's where all of the humanity
that we know about, anyway, lives on.
And then you look out to the stars
and you see thousands and thousands
and thousands of stars,
and recognize
that we are just one galaxy
and that there are
billions of galaxies out there
that have maybe even more stars than us.
It makes me sure
that there is other life out there.
It may not look like us, or, you know,
be like us in any form or fashion,
but there's going to be life out there.
There's just too many choices,
too many chances to be had.
I think what history will say
about the space station is going to be
that it was the first real demonstration
of international cooperation.
We put together pieces
that had never been put together,
we did it in low-Earth orbit,
going 17,500 miles an hour,
and that technical cooperation
overcomes differences
in culture, in religions or beliefs.
We overcame all of that
and came together
to build something really special.
I think one of the most memorable times
on the spacewalk,
I was doing a baseband
signal processor change-out.
I pulled the box out, and the back side
of the container that housed the box
was this mirror reflective substance,
and I saw myself in a spacesuit
with the Earth behind me.
I was, like, "Hey, I'm an astronaut.
The real thing!"
Not bad for a girl from Iowa.
I would go back to space in a heartbeat.
I met my radiation limits with NASA,
so I'll have to find somebody else
that'll fly me.
Seeing the Earth from space
and seeing the planet
without political borders,
you get an enhanced sense
that we are all in this thing
that we call humanity together.
You know, we're all part
of the same team: Team Earth.
One of the first times I looked at
the earth I was, like, kind of puzzled.
I was like, "Hey, what's that thin film
over the surface?"
And then you quickly realize,
that's our atmosphere.
When you look down on the planet,
our atmosphere looks like a contact lens
over somebody's eyeball,
like this very, very fragile thing.
And then you see
how certain parts of the Earth
are almost always covered in pollution.
Noticeable changes in the rainforest.
I mean, it really makes you, you know,
wanna take care of the planet.
We're all not going to Mars.
Mars is not the place that we go
after we destroy this planet.
That's not gonna work.
This was built
by an international partnership.
Fifteen different countries,
different languages, different cultures,
different technical ways
of doing things.
This is like the hardest thing
we've ever done.
Maybe harder than going to the Moon.
That alone proves
that if we have a dream,
if we have a goal,
if we work together, work as a team,
we can accomplish amazing things.
The crew requests permission
to come aboard.
Endeavour, permission granted.
To us, their less tried
successors, they appear magnified,
pushing out into the unknown
in obedience to an inward voice,
to an impulse beating in the blood,
to a dream of the future.
They were wonderful,
and it must be owned,
they were ready for the wonderful.
Parameters of the launch vehicle
are normal.
OK, copy. Everything is normal
on board. A hundred and fifty seconds.
Have you loud and clear.
Everything is normal on board.
Further inaudible.
This is 19. Solovia.
Yes, I have you loud and clear.
Everything's good on our side.
Congratulations.