"A Fully Mature Spaceplane"

By Natalie Angler

The largest shuttle crew ever weathers a series of glitches

Palm trees were drooping in the heat of the midday sun and alligators snoozing after a breakfast of fish, when the alien bird swooped down from the sky. Roseate spoonbills and wild pigs scattered as it alighted with a gentle whoosh! on the 15,000-ft. ribbon of concrete beside the Florida marsh. On two previous missions, Captain Robert Crippen had been scheduled to land the space shuttle at Kennedy Space Center, the launch site, and each time bad weather had diverted the ship to Edwards Air Force Base in California's Mojave Desert. But this time, a looming Hurricane Josephine had cooperated by veering northward, making it possible to touch down in Florida. As the astronauts debarked, a nearby sign announced: WELCOME BACK. THE GRASS IS ALWAYS GREENER AT K.S.C.

For the crew of Challenger, it was a peculiarly ambiguous mission, which combined show-stopping successes with exasperating glitches. Mission Specialist Kathryn Sullivan, 33, became the first American woman to walk in space, but her celestial stroll was encumbered with an unscheduled, mundane chore: helping fellow Space Walker and Specialist David Leetsma, 35, fasten a balky antenna atop the shuttle.

Time and again, the astronauts devised ingenious makeshift solutions to overcome gremlins. With nearly all of its objectives accomplished, NASA insists that the shuttle "is now a fully mature space-plane." That may be an exaggeration, but the 13th shuttle flight, the sixth by Challenger, can boast at least one notable achievement. Although Crippen, Sullivan, Leetsma, Jon McBride, Sally Ride, Paul Scully-Power and Marc Garneau of Canada were crammed into an area the size of a small studio apartment, they made it through eight days without any noticeable clashes or even displays of temper. Marveled Crippen of the largest space crew ever, "You really can fit seven people in here."

From the moment Challenger leaped heavenward on Oct. 5, NASA officials felt unusually optimistic. The turnaround time of five weeks since the last shuttle flight (the maiden voyage of Discovery) was the shortest yet and exactly the interval that NASA had set as its longterm goal. What is more, the lift-off was by far the smoothest in the program, occurring only forty-three thousandths of a second late. "A very spectacular flight," beamed Shuttle Operations Director Thomas Utsman, "a very clean count."

That exuberance was soon dampened, however, when the astronauts had difficulty trying to activate the Earth Radiation Budget Satellite (ERBS). Bearing three scientific instruments, the satellite is designed to measure the amount of energy that bounces from the sun into the earth's atmosphere, where it is swirled about by wind and water and partly tossed back into space. By better understanding the dynamics of solar radiation, scientists hope they may be able to predict world weather patterns more accurately. But when Ride applied her expertise with the Canadian-built 50-ft. remote manipulator arm to lift the ERBS from the shuttle's cargo bay, two 12-ft. by 8-ft. solar panels on the satellite refused to unfold. After fruitlessly shaking the cylindrical ERBS with the arm, the astronauts turned the shuttle toward the sun, until the frozen latches on the panels loosened up. Within three hours, the satellite was deployed.

Shortly after, another hitch: the astronauts found they could not control their movable KU-Band antenna. This critical instrument sends data from the shuttle to a Tracking and Data Relay Satellite (TDRS), which then beams the information to scientists on earth. Sighed Flight Director John Cox as he referred to Murphy's law ("Whatever can go wrong, will"): "Murphy has a way of getting to you." With the antenna wobbling like a drunk at a party, the crew adopted a contingency plan. They fixed the KU in one position and then pointed the spacecraft at the TDRS, which is like rotating your house to redirect the TV antenna for better reception.

The flight might have been billed as the revolt of the antennas. The three segments of the 35-ft. Solar Imaging Radar (SIR-B) dish antenna, NASA's newest and most advanced experimental radar device, also got stuck while stored in the cargo bay. Unlike conventional radar, the SIR-B can squint through cloud cover and rain to the earth below, taking photograph-like images of hidden oil and mineral deposits and dim archaeological features. Its debut was considered vital to the success of the mission. Again Ride and the mechanical arm were pressed into service. She nudged the recalcitrant antenna with the arm, and this time the punishment worked: out popped the antenna. But the loss of viewing time, coupled with the antenna problems, meant that a few scientific projects had to be sacrificed, among them a hoped-for image of the Arabian Peninsula near Oman, thought to be the site of an ancient lost city. Shrugged Charles Elachi of the Jet Propulsion Laboratory in Pasadena, Calif., who heads the SIR-B studies, "The lost city will have to be lost for another year or so."

All worries dissolved when Sullivan and Leetsma donned their Spandex long Johns and space suits in preparation for the walk through the cargo bay, its door open to limitless space. The major goal of the space walk: to practice refueling a satellite. Groping slowly into the bay, Leetsma exited first, followed shortly by a quicker, livelier Sullivan, who cried, "This is great!" Both rookie walkers were soon entangled in the safety tethers that chained them to the craft.

Extricating himself gingerly, Leetsma drifted to the work station at the rear, where he ran a hose between two fuel tanks, one containing highly volatile hydrazine gas, the other mimicking a satellite fuel container. Sullivan watched the temperature gauge and other readings throughout the 1-hr. 45-min. operation. Said she of the crew members inside: "I'll bet they ate our lunch." The pair then repositioned the KU-Band antenna so that it could be stowed away. After spending 3 1/2 hrs. and two earth orbits outside, Leetsma and Sullivan headed back. George Nelson of Mission Control congratulated them, saying, "Very good work."

Indeed, Cox described the operations as "the most outstanding day that we've had." And the next morning, when 134 lbs. of hydrazine were transferred by remote controls into the dummy satellite in a mere 54 min., NASA declared that the success of the operation demonstrates that the lifetime of satellites now twirling through space can be extended substantially. That triumph could bolster the shuttle's image as a potentially valuable commercial tool. But whether corporations or the Pentagon will buy it remains to be seen.

-By Natalie Angler. Reported by Jerry Hannifin/Kennedy Space Center and David 5. Jackson/Houston

With reporting by Jerry Hannifin, David Jackson