xiv
But what’s worse is that the water starts covering my nose, a really
unpleasant sensation, made worse by my useless efforts to remove the
water from my face shaking my head.
The upper part of the helmet is now full of water, and I don’t even know
if the next time I breathe through my mouth I’ll be able to fill my lungs
with air and not liquid.
In addition, I realize that I’m not even able to understand which direction
I should take to return to the airlock: I can only see for a few tens of centimetres around me, and I can’t even locate the handles we use to move
around the ISS. I try to contact Chris and Shane: I listen to them talking
to each other, but the volume is now very low, I can barely hear them and
they can’t hear me.
I’m alone.
I furiously think about a plan of action.
I know that if I stay where I am, Chris will come and pick me up, but how
much time do I have? It’s impossible to know.
Then I remember the safety cable, whose rewinding spring has a force of
about 3 lbs that “pulls” me to the left. It’s not much, but it’s the best idea
I can come up with: to follow that cable all the way to the airlock.
I force myself to remain calm and patient, looking for the handles with my
hands, moving while trying to think about how to eliminate the water if it
should reach my mouth.
The only idea that comes to my mind is to open the safety valve near the
left ear: by creating a controlled depressurization, it should be able to get
rid of some of the water, at least until it freezes instantly by sublimation
and blocks the flow.
But creating a “hole” in the spacesuit is really the last card to play.
I move for what seems a very long time (but I’m aware it’s only a few
minutes), and finally, with great relief, I can see, beyond the water curtain
in front of my eyes, the thermal cover of the airlock: just a little more and
I’ll be safe.
One of the last instructions I received is to return immediately, without
waiting for Chris. The protocol would require me, since I went out first, to
return last, but changing the order of the protocol is not a problem for me
or Chris right now.
Moving with my eyes closed, I manage to get inside and position myself
while waiting for Chris to return. I sense some movement behind me, then
Chris makes his entrance and as I feel the mechanical vibrations, I understand that he is closing the watertight hatch.
At that point the communications pass to Karen inside the station, and for
some reason I can hear her quite well. But I understand she can’t hear me
when she repeats the instructions, even though I already answered them.
Preface
But what’s worse is that the water starts covering my nose, a really
unpleasant sensation, made worse by my useless efforts to remove the
water from my face shaking my head.
The upper part of the helmet is now full of water, and I don’t even know
if the next time I breathe through my mouth I’ll be able to fill my lungs
with air and not liquid.
In addition, I realize that I’m not even able to understand which direction
I should take to return to the airlock: I can only see for a few tens of centimetres around me, and I can’t even locate the handles we use to move
around the ISS. I try to contact Chris and Shane: I listen to them talking
to each other, but the volume is now very low, I can barely hear them and
they can’t hear me.
I’m alone.
I furiously think about a plan of action.
I know that if I stay where I am, Chris will come and pick me up, but how
much time do I have? It’s impossible to know.
Then I remember the safety cable, whose rewinding spring has a force of
about 3 lbs that “pulls” me to the left. It’s not much, but it’s the best idea
I can come up with: to follow that cable all the way to the airlock.
I force myself to remain calm and patient, looking for the handles with my
hands, moving while trying to think about how to eliminate the water if it
should reach my mouth.
The only idea that comes to my mind is to open the safety valve near the
left ear: by creating a controlled depressurization, it should be able to get
rid of some of the water, at least until it freezes instantly by sublimation
and blocks the flow.
But creating a “hole” in the spacesuit is really the last card to play.
I move for what seems a very long time (but I’m aware it’s only a few
minutes), and finally, with great relief, I can see, beyond the water curtain
in front of my eyes, the thermal cover of the airlock: just a little more and
I’ll be safe.
One of the last instructions I received is to return immediately, without
waiting for Chris. The protocol would require me, since I went out first, to
return last, but changing the order of the protocol is not a problem for me
or Chris right now.
Moving with my eyes closed, I manage to get inside and position myself
while waiting for Chris to return. I sense some movement behind me, then
Chris makes his entrance and as I feel the mechanical vibrations, I understand that he is closing the watertight hatch.
At that point the communications pass to Karen inside the station, and for
some reason I can hear her quite well. But I understand she can’t hear me
when she repeats the instructions, even though I already answered them.
Preface