NASA Johnson Space Center
Oral History Project
Edited Oral History Transcript
William
S. McArthur, Jr.
Interviewed by Jennifer Ross-Nazzal
Houston, Texas – 17 April 2018
Ross-Nazzal:
Today is April 17, 2018. This interview with Bill McArthur is being
conducted at the Johnson Space Center for the JSC Oral History Project.
The interviewer is Jennifer Ross-Nazzal. Thanks again for joining
me this morning. I definitely appreciate it, especially with your
injury. One of the things we didn’t talk about [last time] was
training in the different suits [for International Space Station (ISS)
Expedition 12]. I know you used an EMU [extravehicular mobility unit],
but you also used the [Russian] Orlan spacesuit. Can you talk about
training with those and in Russia on the suit for EVA [extravehicular
activity] training?
McArthur:
Training in Russia versus training in the U.S. I think really could
be the subject of a book all on its own. It’s just such a fascinating
topic.
If we want to concentrate a little bit more on the EVA aspect, something
that’s good to remember is the suits look—they look different.
You look at them, and it’s easy to say, “Yes, there’s
the Orlan. Yes, that’s the EMU.” But the reality is the
environment in which they operate and the functions they perform,
they must at least be 99 percent the same. We’ll sometimes talk
about the differences, although what I think is often more striking
are the similarities.
If you work backwards, you’re in the suit and you’re outside,
both suits are bulky. They have a lot of mass. That means, as you’re
moving around in the suit, you’re moving essentially two of
you around. There’s that similarity. The importance of staying
always positively attached to the Space Station for both suits is
very similar. That paradigm of always being tethered, or before you
release one tether to make sure that you’ve attached another
tether, is the same.
If there are spots in the suit that rub you, then those are going
to become pressure points, and they’re annoying regardless of
what the suits are. Regardless of how massive the suit is, you’re
in microgravity. Really you float around, you have some sense—this
is a bit of a contradiction—of constrained freedom. And for
both suits, they are so much easier to work in when you’re in
space than when you’re in the water. Maybe that contributes
to that sense of freedom, that the vast majority of things that you
do are easier to do when you’re out in space.
The real first training I did in the Orlan was when I was the DOR
[director of operations] in Russia. I don’t know if it was part
of a formal agreement or what, but everyone knew—it may not
have been official yet, but it was pretty common knowledge I was going
to be assigned to an upcoming Space Station increment, and I would
need to be trained in the Orlan. So even while I was a DOR I started
doing some Orlan training.
One of the things that I really have to give credit to the Russians
about is that their assumption was that because I had done a couple
of successful EVAs in the U.S. suit—I think they treated me
in a very positive way. They treated me with the respect that you
would afford to someone who had successfully demonstrated the ability
to do something. I think it’s a little bit like an experienced
pilot. Other pilots treat you with respect, even if you’re about
to fly an airplane with which you’re not completely familiar.
They assume that you’ve demonstrated some basic level of skill
that makes you part of the club and ready to maybe advance a little
bit further.
Some of the things about the suits that are pretty well documented
is that the Russian suit is designed for—once it’s ready
to don, it essentially is complete. The backpack is open, the gloves
are normally already installed. You wriggle into the suit, you can
close the back door, if you will, yourself and lock it all yourself.
It really is a suit designed for self-donning. Realistically, it’s
always easier to have assistance when you don or doff a spacesuit.
Even though the Russian suit is designed for self-donning and self-doffing,
I think you would only see that happen if in fact there weren’t
a second crewmember to provide assistance, which would be an off-nominal
situation.
The U.S. suit, [there are] multiple pieces. You put on the trousers,
and you wriggle into the hard upper torso. They have to be joined,
then you have to install the gloves, and then you have to install
the helmet. Of course all of that is integrated in the Russian suit.
The advantage that gives to the U.S. suit is it allows the U.S. suit
size to be adjusted. There are many more ways to adjust the size of
the suit so that it fits more snugly than the Russian suit does.
The Russian suits, it’s all integrated. You control the size
by these straps, these tapes if you will, that control the length
of the legs, the length of the arms. I don’t know how many different
size gloves we have for the U.S. spacesuit. The Russians only have
two or three different sizes, like small, medium, and large. To control
the size it’s really the overall arm/glove length, so that if
you need to you can push your hands into the fingertips. The fit of
the U.S. suit is very snug. The fit of the Russian suit is much looser,
roomier.
Then couple that with the fact that the Russian suit operates at a
higher pressure. Now you have a suit that the fit isn’t as snug,
so that means the suit itself feels bulkier. It’s at a higher
pressure, so just from the pressure it is stiffer. I had a sense that
I had more agility and dexterity in the EMU than in the Orlan.
Does that matter? It matters in the actual execution of the tasks
in that, as a general rule, tasks for a U.S. EVA are designed to accommodate
the limitations of the suit. Tasks on the Russian segment, tasks in
the Orlan, accommodate limitations in the Orlan. If the U.S. gloves
allow you greater dexterity, then the interface that the crew uses
can be perhaps a little smaller, can rely on having a little more
hand dexterity.
For the Russian Orlan, the tools are designed based on an understanding
that maybe you can’t turn a small-diameter knob. It has to be
something a little larger. For that reason, it seemed that the tasks
were of equal difficulty, or very similar difficulty, because it’s
a much more complex system when you define a system as the individual,
the suit, the tools that the spacewalker is going to use, the equipment
with which the tool is going to interface.
If all of that is part of the planning process, then it falls within
the scope of what is not just possible, what is reasonable for a well-trained
astronaut or cosmonaut to do. Whether it was in the NBL [Neutral Buoyancy
Laboratory] or the [Russian] Hydrolab, whether it was doing EVAs in
the Russian suit or in the EMU actually on the vehicle—going
from one environment, from one set of equipment, to the other, there
was always that sense of familiarity. The switches are in a different
place. It’s okay, but they’re still pretty simple. Got
procedures, know what to do with them.
I always found it interesting that, rightfully so, I know the Russians
afforded me personally—and all the people that I saw—afforded
us a lot of respect based on the fact that we were experienced astronauts
on Shuttle missions or whatever it happened to be. I would like to
think that we afforded a similar level of respect to cosmonauts when
they were training.
Ross-Nazzal:
That’s a lot of good detail about the suits. I know you talked
last time about the concerns about going out for a spacewalk and only
having two crewmembers, and the challenges of getting ready. One thing
we didn’t talk about was the EVAs themselves. I wonder if you
want to talk about those two EVAs that you did do.
McArthur:
They were a lot of fun. They were hard, but they were fun. You get
such a tremendous sense of accomplishment.
For me, there was nothing I did—launch maybe. Launch kind of
defines you as being an astronaut or not, I guess. What made you really
feel that you were—and I don’t mean this to be gender-specific—but
what made me feel like a spaceman was putting on a spacesuit and going
outside.
There was an old ’50s TV series called Men Into Space, and it
had a profound effect on me when I was a little boy growing up. On
one of these obscure cable networks they have started running these
episodes again. What I remembered from my youth was that the main
hero was Colonel [Edward] McCauley. I remember as a little kid having
a Colonel McCauley astronaut helmet, and it said McCauley on it.
By golly, being in an environment in which you have to wear a spacesuit
to me always was, I think—me wearing a spacesuit, now my self-image
was that of a man in space. I think if I’d been a young woman,
hopefully I would have enjoyed Men Into Space as much.
There was one episode which I would love to show the Astronaut Office
as a whole one time, because of how it just so powerfully captured
the stereotyping of a woman’s place even in space. Although
in some respects it was very positive, but I think it would elicit
howls of protest today. But again it’s not a man-woman thing.
It’s just that putting on a spacesuit to me is one of—and
I think I’ve gotten off on a tangent in answering your question,
but it was just something I found.
I would say, having done spacewalks, [they] are probably some of the
things in my astronaut career of which I’m proudest. You go
out, and generally I found that the tasks were easier to perform in
space than they were in the water, whether it was the NBL or the Hydrolab.
And that’s a good thing, it’s a good thing. You really
want the training to be more difficult than the actual task.
You don’t want it more difficult simply because it’s not
in space. You really would like there to be similarities in the areas,
and it be such a good analog to physically doing the spacewalk that
the things that are difficult are things which, if you can master
them in the water, means that the same tasks aren’t going to
be easier simply because you’re in space. But will be easier
because just being in the water, being on the ground, required you
to really develop a high skill-level.
Back to our EVA. We knew the ground was worried with this issue that
there would be no third crewmember to help us. One, that meant preparing
for the EVA was going to be more physically demanding, be more challenging.
Then they would worry if there were a problem with us coming back
in. The incapacitated crewmember scenario where you come back in,
your crewmember can’t help you unsuit. So you’ve got to
get unsuited, then you can help your colleague. And then you can remove
the suit from your colleague and provide any medical care that might
be needed.
The EVA was planned to be short. I think the plan was for it to be
only five and a half hours instead of a nominal six and a half hours.
We got everything done in the equipment lock, which was the larger
diameter first part, or inner part, of the airlock. Then we transitioned
into the crew lock and we were closed in there, and we started depressing.
Then we realized something was wrong, that the depress rate wasn’t
high enough. Something wasn’t right about the way the crew lock
was depressurizing. The ground asked about a valve, which was in the
equipment lock. They said, “You said you opened this; we noted
that you opened this valve.” Rick [Richard M.] Linnehan was
the CapCom [capsule communicator] and I said, “Rick, I got to
tell you, I don’t remember us talking about this valve at all.”
We discussed it for a few minutes, and they finally realized that
this valve must not have been in the correct configuration. So we
repressed the crew lock, came back in. Sure enough, the valve was
not configured correctly. We reconfigured it and went back in and
continued with airlock depress.
Now we’ve lost like an hour. This has taken a good bit of time.
The ground says, “What we’re not going to do is we’re
not going to extend the EVA. It was going to be five and a half hours.
It’s going to be four and a half hours now.” That was
pretty disappointing. I was pretty disappointed in that because it
meant we were going to lose some EVA time. Of course that meant somebody
had made a mistake, and you just hate that. We got out and we started
doing our work.
Let me back up a little bit. It is really cool when you open the hatch,
and you look out. That is just so cool; it is just so cool. Doors
open. The Space Station—and it still does—it was kind
of flying in airplane mode, which means that the hatch opens down
toward the Earth. So you look out and you can see the Earth going
by you. That’s just cool, that’s just too cool. It’s
also fun. Unlike in the NBL, you can grab the edge of the hatch, and
as much as you can somersault without gravity, you kind of flip yourself
out. It’s real easy to get out. It’s just so nice to finally
be out, and you start doing your work.
We were really pretty methodical going through the tasks. Our first
task was to install an external TV camera, and we did that. There
were a couple of subtleties in the way that the stanchion—the
post that the camera was attached to—the way it mounted to the
Space Station structure that provided the opportunity for error. I
was focusing. I was trying to be very, very careful. There was an
easy mistake to make. They warned you about it, so I was concentrating
really hard on trying to avoid that mistake. Everything went well,
so we were really tickled when we were done out at the work site and
we were moving back inboard. The ground said they had activated the
camera, and it was working. If you could wipe your brow, you’d
do that, but you can’t.
I’d like to go back. When I talked about the valve being misconfigured,
of course when something like that happens Mission Control really
wants to try and understand what happened. When we were debriefing,
Rick Linnehan said it was his fault, that he had verbalized the step
and had checked that it had been done without actually confirming
that he had heard us acknowledge the step. To this day, I think he
was just taking one for the team. You know we’re trying to do
this in a mixture of English and Russian, and that somewhere in there
there’d just been a miscommunication. I thought it was really
very generous of Rick to shift the finger of blame away from the crew.
Anyhow—so it’s kind of cool. We’d been all the way
out on the port side of the Station because it was the P1 [truss]
lower outboard camera. It was really one of the big reasons we got
to do the spacewalk at all, because it was an important camera for
one of the first post-Return to Flight Shuttle missions. It was a
very important camera view to install one of the truss segments, so
that’s why we did that.
Then we came back in, and we were going to then go to the starboard
side to remove some failed component out there. It was about a suitcase-size
computer that was out there that had failed. I was a little bit ahead
of Valery [I. Tokarev], and so while I was waiting for Valery to catch
up with me, instead of stopping at the work site I went all the way
to the far right end of the Station so I could say, “Well, I’ve
been all the way to the left. I’ve now been all the way to the
right. Okay.”
We removed that ORU, that orbital replacement unit, put it in the
airlock, and then at this time the P6 truss was on the zenith part
of the Station. It had, at the end of it, this device that was intended
to basically dissipate the electrical energy that would build up in
the Space Station as it traveled through the Earth’s magnetic
field. It needed to be removed because it was going to interfere with
another component when the P6 truss got moved later. I believe that
was when the interference would occur.
Now Valery and I went all the way to what was then the top of the
Space Station. When we get up there, we remove the FPP (floating potential
probe). We removed it, and there were two options. We could disassemble
it and bring it back inside. They were worried about doing that because
they thought that some of these probes that would dissipate the electrical
potential due to exposure in space would suffer from embrittlement.
They might snap, and you’d have a jagged piece of metal that
could cut the suit, so they didn’t want us to do that.
The plan was for me to jettison it. To my knowledge, we had never
intentionally jettisoned a piece of equipment by hand, at least on
the U.S. side. The Russians had done that before. It was cool. They
even had me, inside the Station before we did the EVA, take objects
that were about the same mass and practice what it would feel like
trying to push them away at a certain velocity. Then there were a
certain range of angles that I had to jettison it in, because what
you didn’t want was for it to come right back around and recontact
the Station. That was a lot of fun, just pushing this thing away.
I think I referred to it as the “longest Hail Mary pass in history.”
I tried to come up with some quip or something.
Ross-Nazzal:
I was wondering, did you practice throwing footballs on the ground
or something at some point.
McArthur:
About that time I looked down and I noticed something floating away
from us. It looked like something that was circular floating away.
Reported it to the ground, had no idea what it was. Looking at subsequent
helmet cam [camera] video, it turns out it was a little ring. What
we did is—to keep the camera lenses, when we use them inside,
from scratching windows—we would take a filter ring, and the
filter would be removed and just screw the ring in. It would be like
a little bumper.
What you could see is when you opened up the camera cover you could
see that the ring had somehow become unscrewed, had backed off from
the lens. It’s probably crew error for not checking it well
enough. Oh, well. It had come floating out, and it’s in the
annals of history somewhere as another piece of something that got
lost from the Space Station during an EVA.
I said they told us they were going to shorten the spacewalk. Fortunately,
all the tasks went according to plan. They all went well. We even
had get-ahead tasks; we completed those. I would like to think because
things were going well. They were looking at our metabolic rates,
and it looked like we weren’t overexerting ourselves. So they
let us stay out the full five and a half hours. We did all those tasks.
I think when we came back in, after we got unsuited, we found out
the toilet wasn’t working. That was inconvenient. That’s
another story. I did find out that the undergarment that we wore—I
found out that it certainly held enough to take care of me for a day.
What we did find out about a week later is—up until that time
we thought we were going to do a second spacewalk maybe a few months
later. I don’t know whether they were so worried about the risk
of doing a spacewalk with just two people—maybe it worried them
that we made that mistake with the valve configuration, or maybe because
we did all our get-ahead tasks—but they canceled our second.
They said, “You guys did all that we needed you to do, so we’re
not going to schedule another EVA.”
But fortunately we did another one in the Russian suit.
Ross-Nazzal:
Can you talk about that one and the differences?
McArthur:
Sure. The content of our whole mission changed so much because of
the foam that was shed on STS-114. We weren’t doing any of the
tasks, it seemed, that we’d actually trained for.
Golly, I’m trying to remember. One thing that happened—one
day, just as we were about to lose contact with the ground, an alarm
went off. I’d just gone into the potty. I stick my head out,
look up at Valery, and Valery is talking to the ground. The ground
basically says, “We’re about to lose comm [communications]
with you. No actions required. We’ll talk to you when we get
back.”
It turned out there was something called a trailing umbilical system,
or TUS. When the mobile base system, which is part of the [Canadarm]
robotic arm—the mobile base is the little railroad car that
moves back and forth along the truss that the Canadarm2 can be based
on, and normally is. While the little railcar, if you will, the mobile
base system (the MBS) is moving, it’s got two cables that trail
out behind it, trailing umbilicals, for it to have power and command.
If it’s going in one direction the cables will retract; if it’s
going in the other direction the cables will play out.
One of the cables had just cut off. What you don’t want is for
a TUS cable to get jammed and not be able to move the mobile base
system. The systems include a guillotine, a cutter, that just cuts
the cable. One of the cable cutters had activated, and it’s
not supposed to. It’s obviously not supposed to activate on
its own, but it had.
So we then picked up what was going to be a hybrid EVA in which we
went out of the Russian airlock in Russian suits. Our first task was
to go forward along the Russian segment, go onto the U.S. segment,
go up to the S0 truss—the very front of the truss where the
mobile base system was—and to try to safe or deactivate the
remaining cable cutter so we wouldn’t suddenly be without the
ability to move the mobile base system.
That definitely was going to be required for future assembly missions,
so that was going to be one of our first tasks. The other tasks were,
I think, to deploy some sensor packages and things that the Russians
had. Oh, and we did a lot of photo work. We were doing a lot of photo
documentation around the aft end of the service module, where the
little reaction control jets are for the service module.
We also had an experiment on that one called Suitsat [Suit Satellite-1],
or Radio Skaf or Radio Skafandr. We took one of our old spacesuits,
and the Russians—they will launch a spacesuit. They will use
it some number of times, and then they just throw it away. They don’t
bring it back and refurbish it the way we do. This was a spacesuit
whose useful life had ended, so we attached some radio equipment to
it. The radio equipment was to broadcast repetitively a message recorded
by young people from countries around the world, in their native languages,
of world cooperation. Based on [the idea that] “here you have
the International Space Station where you have all these countries
that are working together,” so it was world cooperation and
peace. We attached all this equipment onto this spacesuit, then filled
the spacesuit with dirty clothes and towels so it looked a little
bit like a person. Our actual first task was to jettison the suit.
I think it was the first task.
Now, way back when, way back in 1993—even before that. For years,
our children go, “Mom, Dad, can we have a dog?”
Mom’s answer always was, “No, we’re going to move
in a year or two, we’re not going to get a dog.”
We move to Houston. “Mom, Dad, can we have a dog?”
“No, you can’t have a dog. Let’s wait. Dad is trying
to be an astronaut, we’ll see.”
Dad gets selected for the astronaut program. “Mom, Dad, can
we have a dog?”
“Well, let’s wait until your dad’s first mission,”
this, that, and the other.
So when I’m on orbit—and I think we did a ham radio contact
with the girls’ elementary school. I think our younger daughter,
it was her turn to ask a question. It’s like, “Dad, can
we finally have a dog?”
So we got a dog. We adopted a little terrier mix, she weighed about
twenty pounds. We named her Laika, name of the 1957 Laika, the spacedog.
Laika was a good little dog. She pretty much had her way, and she
did what she wanted and was pampered. My brother, to this day, thinks
that she was one of the best dogs that he ever knew.
A Monday in August was when I left for Russia to do final training
and preparation for launch. Well, that Friday Laika died. Kind of
sad, but she was twelve years old; it’s okay. Laika was gone.
We knew she was sick, so my younger daughter took her to the vet.
She was there making the decisions about the dog. They did an operation
to try to take care of the dog. She didn’t make it. My daughter
explained to them, “Well, Dad is getting ready to go fly in
space. This is his dog. We think he would like it if he could spread
her ashes out before he left.”
So they put a rush on, had her cremated, so I did that. Along the
sidewalk outside by our house where I would take her for her walks,
I went and spread most of her ashes. But I kept just a pinch of her
ashes, and I put it in a double Ziploc bag, the little bitty Ziploc
bags you get with cheap jewelry or something. So I put her ashes in
a little double Ziploc bag, smuggled her ashes from Houston to Moscow,
and smuggled her ashes from Moscow to Baikonur [Kazakhstan], put her
ashes inside my spacesuit, smuggled it up to the Space Station. I
put her ashes in the left glove of the spacesuit that we jettisoned.
So that was part of that EVA.
It’s interesting, and the video is kind of cool. There wasn’t
a good camera angle that you could actually see where we came out
of the hatch. The best camera angle had the Russian airlock, blocked
the hatch itself. Here you can see one of us working on the outside,
and then suddenly you see the spacesuit drifting, sort of tumbling
away.
The U.S. flight surgeon who was on duty in TsUP [RKA (Russian Space
Agency) Mission Control Center], in the Control Center in Moscow at
the time—dear friend of mine, Shannan Moynihan. Shannan had
looked at the timeline. She saw Suitsat deploy, and she said, “Well,
they’re going to deploy something. We’ll see.” She’s
looking at the video, and suddenly she sees a spacesuit tumbling away.
Evidently, she found it quite alarming. When I give talks today, the
story I tell the audience is that the ground didn’t know. We
just did this all to play a joke on them. I have a lot of fun with
that.
But anyhow, then we transitioned to the forward end of the U.S. segment
and did the work that we could to protect that remaining TUS cable.
What we really wound up doing is taking the TUS cable out of its bracket
where the cutter would have been able to sever it. I took a wire tie
and tied it off to the side, so it couldn’t be damaged. I think
on STS-121 they replaced those mechanisms, and when the mission came
back Piers [J.] Sellers—it’s so sad Piers isn’t
with us anymore. When they came back, Piers Sellers brought back that
wire tie that I’d used to safe the TUS cable. He brought it
back and gave it to me in a presentation in the Astronaut Office.
That was a real nice thing for him to do.
Then we went to the very aft end of the service module, and we did
all our photo surveys there. That meant between the two EVAs we’d
gone as far right as you could, we’d gone as far left as you
could—well, we’d gone as far to port as you could on the
Station, as far to starboard on the Station, as far zenith on the
Station as you could, and as far aft on the Station as you could,
in our two spacewalks. I thought that was kind of a neat thing to
have done.
They were concerned because we had been doing a lot of work around
where the little rocket nozzles were, the thruster nozzles on the
aft end of the service module. They were worried that our gloves would
be contaminated by any fuel oxidizer reaction products back there.
We had set up a couple of little towel caddies, so we had these like
terry-cloth face towels. We used those to wipe off our gloves, to
make sure that if there were any contaminants on there we’d
remove them, and then we just threw the towels away.
Then when we came back in—I’m glad I’m retired now,
I can tell all these stories—Moscow basically said, “Throw
these gloves away. We’re not going to use them anymore.”
What we did instead is we put our gloves in multiple Ziploc bags,
put them in our return to Houston bags.
I called the ground and told Sally [P.] Davis, who was the lead flight
director—actually I called her on the phone, so nobody could
hear what we were talking about. I told Sally that we were going to
send our gloves down, so if anybody was going to have conniptions
about it to let me know, but we wanted those gloves.
So I now have the gloves I used for that spacewalk. It was interesting.
When we came back, I was having one of our weekly videoconferences
and I told my wife and the girls, said, “Look, I’ve got
these gloves.”
My girls go, “Well Dad, what are you going to do with them?”
I said, “Well, maybe I’ll donate them to the West Point
[U.S. Military Academy] Museum [West Point, New York] or something
like that.”
They go, “Oh no you’re not! You’re going to give
them to us. We’re going to keep those gloves.”
Ross-Nazzal:
Nice family heirloom. How big was the Station at that point when you
were up there?
McArthur:
Oh, gosh. What I think we say now is the interior volume is about
the same as a five-bedroom house. It was about the same as—I
think we said three-bedroom house, and I’m not certain if it
was even that big. The Columbus Orbit[al] Facility (COF)—the
Columbus module wasn’t there. Kibo, the Japanese module, and
all its components were not there. There’ve been a couple of
additional Russian modules attached.
The trusses were S1, S0, and P1 were there. The additional truss elements,
what—P4, can it really be that many? I know there’s no
P3. Of all the big modules that have the big solar arrays, only one
set of the U.S. solar arrays was up there at the time, and it was
mounted up on the zenith instead of out on the port side where it
eventually wound up.
Ross-Nazzal:
You mentioned the flight control teams a few times in this interview.
I wonder if you can talk about your relationship with flight control,
being on Station, and how close that relationship was.
McArthur:
I wanted it to be very informal, and I think it was. There were a
couple of times when there would be a little bit of friction, but
for the most part I really tried to find opportunities to talk to
specific flight controllers. Like on Saturdays, if I was running on
the treadmill I’d ask them to try to get one of the young flight
controllers to get on the radio so we could just chat a little bit.
One of the things I really wanted us to do was not talk in code. I
mentioned that I think Rick Linnehan took the blame for the confusion
on that valve, just to keep it from the crew looking bad. I always
thought, in particular during the Shuttle Program, we had a tendency
to be so worried about things that might reflect badly on anyone,
crew or the ground, that we would talk around an issue instead of
just be very blunt, be very specific, and say, “Did this happen?”
I remember once—and I may have mentioned this before—on
STS-58 I was supposed to close the payload bay doors. For some reason,
I was doing it all by myself. I later became a big fan of, for important
tasks, always trying to have two crewmembers doing it, just to preclude
making a mistake.
We were getting ready to close the payload bay doors, which normally
is done on the day before landing. But on this day, because we had
a number of animals on board—we had a number of rats on board
that were part of the suite of experiments—we waited until the
last minute to close the payload bay doors. As I’m going through
the procedure, the ground says, “Stop. Don’t do anything
else about closing the payload bay doors.”
John [E.] Blaha was the commander. Of course he’s now immediately
getting nervous because you got to close the payload bay doors before
you can come back. We can’t do a deorbit burn unless payload
bay doors are closed. I think Shannon [W.] Lucid and Dave [David A.]
Wolf were pretty excited, because if there were a problem with the
payload bay doors they might get to do a spacewalk to fix it. I don’t
know if they really wanted to do that, but that’s what they
would have done.
I’m looking at it trying to understand what the ground is concerned
about. The procedure was interesting. On the controls there were two
switches that were called payload bay mech power switches, payload
bay mechanism power switches. It basically powered up the electrical
buses that controlled most of the equipment in the payload bay, to
include the motors to close the payload bay doors and drive the latches
and things like that.
As I’d gone through the procedure, the first step said “verify,”
check, “payload bay mech power switches off.” When I read
that step, I took them to on. A little bit later there was a switch
that is “payload bay doors close.” If the switches had
been on and I’d taken the door motor switches to close, the
doors would have closed. Everything probably would have been okay
because that’s the way the system was designed.
But with experience over the years, we had discovered that if you
followed that procedure—no, no, no, no, no, no. It was Ku-band
antenna stow. It wasn’t the doors close, it was Ku-band antenna
stow. If you then took the Ku-band antenna to stow, the antenna would
move into the right position. These gimbal locks would go into place,
and the antenna would stow. That’s good.
We had discovered though that you could get in a situation where the
gimbals wouldn’t actually lock, or wouldn’t move far enough
to lock, the antenna would try to stow anyway. So we modified the
procedure. It was leave the power switch off. Now when you get down
to put the antenna in stow, the antenna will move where it needs to
be. The gimbals will lock, but it won’t actually move to the
stow position. That way if there’s a problem you’ll see
it, and then you can figure out what to do.
If the payload bay mech power switches had remained on, it probably
would have been okay, maybe not. The ground sees that their telemetry
says these switches aren’t in the position we think they should
be in, and so they say, “Stop.” Now, I think a good thing
would have been to just say, “Bill, what position are these
two switches in? If they are on, please take them to off and proceed.”
As a matter of fact, a real good friend of mine, Bob [Robert C.] Doremus,
was the flight controller who was trying to deal with all of this,
and he was the one that caught that the switch wasn’t in the
right position and alerted the flight director. As I’m reading
the procedure, I finally see that I’ve made a mistake.
So I say, “Well hey, ground, how about if I take the payload
bay mech power switches to off, and pick up in step five and then
continue with the procedure?”
“You have a go.” But what I could see though is that people
worried about, “We think the crew made a mistake.” But
how do we say that without asking the crew, “Hey, did you make
a mistake?”
I tried to avoid that. I didn’t want us to get into those type
of scenarios on Station. I really wanted us to be really upfront.
If we wanted to do something different, say that we needed to do something
different. I know sometimes I got a little maybe testy and not as
patient with the ground as I should have been.
And it was interesting—we ran fairly high levels of CO2 [carbon
dioxide] when Valery and I were on Station. We just simply won’t
run CO2 levels that high anymore.
Ross-Nazzal:
How high are we talking?
McArthur:
I think we were at I want to say five-and-a-half, six millimeters.
Whatever units the carbon dioxide measurement device was, we would
run five, five-and-a-half, even sometimes up to six I think. Now they’re
below four.
I noticed shortly before the Expedition 13 crew came up we activated
the CDRA, the carbon dioxide removal assembly. The Russian Vozdukh,
which removes CO2, was running. So we drove the CO2 levels lower in
anticipation of having three more crewmembers on board for a week,
and I noticed that I had a sense of euphoria. Not ridiculously so,
but still this sense of well-being and happiness that was noticeable.
It dawned on me that it may have been related to the CO2 levels.
Then I also started thinking back about times when I would find myself
becoming irritated either at Valery or at the ground for really no
good reason. Instead of just being direct and professional, perhaps
being a little bit sarcastic or allowing annoyance to creep into my
tone of voice.
Sure enough, after I’d been back a couple of years and we were
really looking at what CO2 levels we needed when the Shuttle was docked
to Station—down there kind of low on that list of symptoms of
elevated CO2 was irritability. I’d like to think that’s
why I was irritable. Or I was just irritable.
Ross-Nazzal:
What was your relationship like with the Russian flight controllers?
McArthur:
It was good. Valery was really the buffer between me and [the team].
I would talk to them when I would be doing procedures on the Russian
segment, and I had some procedures that I would do on my own without
Valery’s engagement. It wasn’t that close personal-type
of communication, just because my Russian wasn’t good enough
to have those informal chitchat.
Ross-Nazzal:
We have a few minutes. You had a visitor for a very short time on
your Expedition, and that was businessman Greg [Gregory H.] Olsen.
I wanted to ask about his inclusion and what his responsibilities
were.
McArthur:
Right, wow. How much time do we have left?
Ross-Nazzal:
We have about fifteen minutes. I don’t know if that’s
enough time.
McArthur:
I might be able to do it. First, I consider Greg one of my dearest
friends now. I just think the world of him.
If you go back, 2001, I was the DOR when [entrepreneur] Dennis [A.]
Tito flew with the Russians. The NASA Administrator at the time, Dan
[Daniel S.] Goldin, was adamantly opposed to Dennis Tito flying with
the Russians. You look at it at the time—the Russians needed
two qualified crewmembers to operate the Soyuz. Just like when Valery,
Greg, and I flew, it was a very similar situation. You could do something
with that third seat.
The Russians, they could have flown another cosmonaut and gotten more
flight experience for their people. They chose instead to sell those
seats on—I don’t know if I would call it the free market
because they could set the price for whatever they thought they could
get out of it. So they did. My recollection was that the Russian government
provided the Russian Space Agency like two hundred million dollars
to support the work they did.
Now, there were other sources of income, but two hundred million dollars.
Dennis Tito paid twenty million dollars. That’s a 10 percent
boost to their budget. If our budget this year is twenty billion dollars
for NASA, that’d be like someone just giving NASA an extra two
billion dollars. What would we do with two billion extra dollars?
We probably wouldn’t be able to spend it, but we’d sure
like to try.
It was really important to the Russians. For these reasons of international
relations and politics, it was something that NASA adamantly opposed.
When I was the DOR it created problems for me, being the senior NASA
person in Star City. Matter of fact, almost got me fired, but anyhow.
Ross-Nazzal:
We’ll have to come back and talk about that next time.
McArthur:
Yes, we can come back and talk about that later. If the Russians were
going to put somebody in that seat, there was not a lot we as the
Agency could do about it. We couldn’t really veto it. What it
did provide was an opportunity to create a distraction for the crew,
to create stress within the crew. That just made no sense in my opinion
whatsoever. Greg has an autobiography he wrote, By Any Means Necessary!
[An Entrepreneur's Journey into Space]. Besides [the fact that] he
says some really nice things about me in it, I enjoyed reading it
because I thought it did tell a lot about Greg and how that came about,
and a lot about his youth and a lot about his background.
It seemed to me that there was going to be somebody in the third seat.
We could be pretty sure it was not going to be a NASA astronaut, because
I just didn’t think we were going to pay for it. The Russians
were selling them to the Europeans, maybe the Japanese. The Japanese,
the Brazilians. Civilians like Greg.
My thought was, “Hey, look. We’re going to fly with this
guy. First, out of fairness to him we ought to make this”—just
out of self-preservation, “we ought to be a crew.” By
golly, it’ll make the mission not only more pleasant for us,
but it makes it safer for us. By golly, if Greg is going to be there,
it would be unconscionable to not treat him the way we would want
to be treated.
He’s a great guy, he was a great guy to fly with, he’s
a smart guy. He’s got a PhD, self-made multimillionaire, very
successful, hardworking. Very generous, I mean he treats people well.
If you met him and you were in a social environment, I’m not
sure you could possibly guess how wealthy he is. Not because he is
so wealthy, because he just doesn’t act that way. He’s
a very humble guy.
By golly, Valery and I decided that this is our crew, and we’re
going to treat each other like a crew. So one of the things I insisted
on right away is that the Star City [Russia] American community embrace
Greg. He was part of our socialization. When we’d get together
and have group dinners, we always included Greg.
I would make little comments, like how hard it was to get good red
wine over there. Greg has got a farm in South Africa where he grows
grapes. He produces wine, so he would have wine sent from his vineyard
through the South African embassy in Moscow, and Greg kept us in good
red wine.
I made a comment one time about “I bet the wine would be better
if we had decent wineglasses,” and a box of Riedel Crystal wine
goblets shows up. I got to be careful [here]. That sounds like he
bought his way in, and that really wasn’t it. What it was is
he looked at what were areas or ways in which he could make a unique
contribution to that community of people who were getting ready to
fly in space.
Then there’d be things like we had books called konspekts. The
konspekts basically—the folks from then MOD [Mission Operations
Directorate] were the RITIs (Russian integration training instructors).
They really worked hard over the years to build these basically study
guides, or these study books, about the various Russian systems we
would need to learn, whether they were ISS systems or Soyuz systems.
There would be these various systems, and on one page it would be
in Russian and the other page it would be in English.
So we had all this neat stuff that we could use to study with. Then
the answer would be, “No, you can’t give Greg a copy,
because he’s paying the Russians for the stuff he needs. And
if they’re not giving it to him, then he hasn’t paid us
for it, so don’t.”
It’s like, “Are you kidding, look how quickly I can steal
a copy and make sure he has one.” He’s a hell of a nice
guy, really is.
Ross-Nazzal:
What did he do up on the increment? He wasn’t there for that
long.
McArthur:
Of course the third seater has some duties for ascent and on-orbit
operation on the Soyuz, but admittedly they aren’t really critical.
One of the most important things he needs to do there is to be able
to operate his own spacesuit, be able to take care of himself, so
that the other crewmembers aren’t [distracted]. There’s
some functions like pumping condensate between modules, which if Greg
couldn’t do that then Valery would have had to, and then that
would be just something else on Valery’s plate. He did a lot
of photo documentation.
Then during the week or so we were together on orbit, he did experiments.
Like ESA [European Space Agency], in addition to having at the time
their own allocation of time on board the Space Station, they could
purchase additional crew utilization time for experiments and things
like that. So Greg would do ESA experiments. He did have his own program
of doing some educational things.
So it’s not a matter of you go up there and you just look out
the window the whole time. The Russians were very interested in utilizing
the time he had available to help them meet their other contractual
obligations.
Ross-Nazzal:
Well you did it, and I think we have one minute to spare. I think
this might be a good place for us to stop, and we can pick up next
time.
McArthur:
Cool.
[End
of interview]