xiii
I am very careful in my movements as I move towards the protective bag
that we left out last week. I don’t want to make the mistake of feeling so
comfortable that I relax. Inside the bag I find the cables, which are perhaps
the most difficult task I got today: I have to connect them to the external
sockets of the station, and then unroll them and at the same time tie them
to the surfaces of the ISS with special metal cables...with a lot of patience,
and a little effort, I manage to connect one end of the second cable to the
socket and then, moving backwards without being able to see, I change my
uncomfortable position. Shane, from the ground, tells me that I am almost
40 minutes ahead of schedule, and Chris is also ahead with his task.
At this moment, while I’m thinking about how to untie the cable (which
seems to move weightless) in an orderly manner, I “feel” that something
is not in order.
The unexpected feeling of water on the back of my neck surprises me. But
I am in outer space, a place where I would rather not have any surprise.
Moving my head sideways I got the confirmation of my feeling, and with
a superhuman effort of willingness I force myself to tell Houston what I
feel, even though I know it could be the end of this EVA.
From the ground, Shane gives me the Roger, and asks me to wait for
instructions. Chris, who has just finished, is still nearby and is approaching to try to see something and locate the source of water in the helmet.
At first, we both believe that it may be drinking a water leak from my
container through the cannula, or even sweat. But I feel that the temperature of the liquid is too cold to be sweat, and above all I have the precise
feeling that it is increasing in volume, but I don’t see any leaking from the
drinking water valve.
When I report this to Chris and Shane, I immediately receive the order to
“end” the activity and return to the airlock.
Chris will secure the elements that are outside, then return following the
same route backwards, i.e. initially moving away towards the front of the
station.
So, we separate.
As I go towards the airlock, the feeling that the water is increasing
becomes a certainty: I can feel it covering the spongy tissue of the headphones, and I wonder if I will lose audio contact. The water almost completely covers the front of my visor, sticking to it and reducing my vision.
I realize that in order to get past one of the antennas in my path I will have
to reposition my body vertically, also to allow my safety cable to rewind
regularly.
And at that moment, as I position myself “upside down”, two things happen at the same time: the sun sets, and my ability to see, already reduced
by the water, disappears completely, making my eyes useless.
Preface
I am very careful in my movements as I move towards the protective bag
that we left out last week. I don’t want to make the mistake of feeling so
comfortable that I relax. Inside the bag I find the cables, which are perhaps
the most difficult task I got today: I have to connect them to the external
sockets of the station, and then unroll them and at the same time tie them
to the surfaces of the ISS with special metal cables...with a lot of patience,
and a little effort, I manage to connect one end of the second cable to the
socket and then, moving backwards without being able to see, I change my
uncomfortable position. Shane, from the ground, tells me that I am almost
40 minutes ahead of schedule, and Chris is also ahead with his task.
At this moment, while I’m thinking about how to untie the cable (which
seems to move weightless) in an orderly manner, I “feel” that something
is not in order.
The unexpected feeling of water on the back of my neck surprises me. But
I am in outer space, a place where I would rather not have any surprise.
Moving my head sideways I got the confirmation of my feeling, and with
a superhuman effort of willingness I force myself to tell Houston what I
feel, even though I know it could be the end of this EVA.
From the ground, Shane gives me the Roger, and asks me to wait for
instructions. Chris, who has just finished, is still nearby and is approaching to try to see something and locate the source of water in the helmet.
At first, we both believe that it may be drinking a water leak from my
container through the cannula, or even sweat. But I feel that the temperature of the liquid is too cold to be sweat, and above all I have the precise
feeling that it is increasing in volume, but I don’t see any leaking from the
drinking water valve.
When I report this to Chris and Shane, I immediately receive the order to
“end” the activity and return to the airlock.
Chris will secure the elements that are outside, then return following the
same route backwards, i.e. initially moving away towards the front of the
station.
So, we separate.
As I go towards the airlock, the feeling that the water is increasing
becomes a certainty: I can feel it covering the spongy tissue of the headphones, and I wonder if I will lose audio contact. The water almost completely covers the front of my visor, sticking to it and reducing my vision.
I realize that in order to get past one of the antennas in my path I will have
to reposition my body vertically, also to allow my safety cable to rewind
regularly.
And at that moment, as I position myself “upside down”, two things happen at the same time: the sun sets, and my ability to see, already reduced
by the water, disappears completely, making my eyes useless.
Preface