|
|
 |
|
|
How frustrating!!!!! First, launch was delayed Sunday due to "high winds aloft" (meaning the winds near the ground weren't too bad, but that at several hundred feet up, the winds would have posed a danger to the spacecraft or pushed us further out of our planned path than we would have been able to recover from). Now, today, a software glitch in the ground system (computers on the ground, used to command the spacecraft, as opposed to the computer on board the spacecraft) caused an abort or scrub of the launch when there was only 30 seconds to go before launch. I couldn't believe we'd gotten so close and not been able to launch. It reminded me of the Space Telescope launch: that time, we got down to 13 seconds, and then the launch was delayed for a week. At least this time, assuming they find and fix the glitch (those people aren't going to get much sleep tonight!
It's currently about 3 am at the Cape, and the last I heard, they still weren't sure what the problem was!) we should be able to launch tomorrow night. Because of the orientation of the Earth with respect to Mars, we have to go exactly on time, or postpone for almost 24 hours (minus a few minutes). We're all so used to Space Shuttle launches, where they can delay for minutes or hours that this seems odd, but it has to do with the fact that the Shuttle only goes to Earth orbit, whereas we're going waaaaaaay further than that.
I spent the several hours before launch with some friends of mine (who don't work in the space program, but who find it fascinating) who came to the Lab to watch the launch. We saw videos about the mission, the tape of some of the testing of the spacecraft and it's hardware that has gone on over the last few years. Pathfinder is using many things that no one else has ever used and so there was more of this sort of testing (as well as more "going back and fixing" of things) than on other projects. The one that most people remember is that we use airbags, similar to those used in car, but much larger and of tougher materials, to cushion our landing, after using a parachute to slow down to about 60 mph. It took quite a long time to find a material that was strong enough not to burst on impact, (we will be bouncing several times before we come to rest) particularly when that impact will almost certainly be on sharp volcanic rocks. (My mind is wandering a bit, as it's late and I'm still very keyed up.) One of my brothers and his son showed up about half an hour before the scheduled launch time, and then my mother got there just a few minutes before we were to go, having rushed to get to the train from San Diego (where she lives) to LA, then rushed over from the train station.
We were all so disappointed when they said they had to scrub! All that anticipation! In some ways, it's funny: all that build up, and then nothing happens. But it's also scary: the Russian mission, Mars 96, was unable to escape Earth's gravity just a few weeks ago. Somehow, that makes us worry more about our launch, even though neither their spacecraft, nor their launch vehicle are similar to ours. Guess scientists and engineers can be a little superstitious, and believe in good and bad omens, just like anyone else.
As I said, it's quite late now, even here on the West Coast, and my cats are trying to crawl in my lap, saying it's time for sleeping. I'm to call in the morning to find out if they've fixed the problem and if we'll try again to launch tonight. Wish us luck!
LAUNCH!!!!! What a wonderful feeling! I was watching in the auditorium on the lab with my family and friends and the whole place erupted into cheers when "the candle lit"! How great to know that all those people were really pulling for us. Many of them were here last night as well, and just couldn't resist coming back. As each milestone after launch was passed, and explained, there was more applause. By now we know that we're on our way to Mars, just about as we planned, and our spacecraft appears to be working just fine. People are huddled around the screens, now that we're getting data from the space craft (for the first hour after launch, we had no contact with it, until it had jettisoned the used launch vehicle). It seems amazing that this was all done in three years time, from the first funding to the launch; what a strange and almost incomprehensible time we live in!
We had our holiday party today and it was fun and moving both. Several of the management types and other higher-ups made speeches and thanked people for all their hard work, not just in the last year, but in the three years it has taken to get our bird off the ground. It's always nice to have one's work appreciated, but this went beyond that. I've always known that the spirit on Pathfinder was special, but when people who worked on Apollos 11 and 13 say that this project has more sense of identity and team spirit than even those two missions, you know you're involved with something extroadiary. But the feeling here, at least for me, is bittersweet, too. Now that we've launched, some people are being laid off, those whose jobs were primarily in developement and who aren't moving on to operations jobs. And even though most of us are staying, the whole scope of the mission ("faster, better, cheaper") means that in less than a year, this will all be over. I think I'll try, because of that, to enjoy it all as fully as I can, make the most of it while I have it.
Very quiet around here today. Officially, the lab is closed today, but flight projects don't keep the same schedules the rest of the world does. Any time we have time allocated to us on the DSN (Deep Space Network) to be in contact with our spacecraft, we have to have someone here to monitor it. Ordinarily, for the first month or so after launch, a project will have continuous coverage, so that they can determine how well the launch put them on their intended trajectory, check out how instruments survived the launch (even in our case, launch is the most traumatic time for the spacecraft) and how the instruments are adapting to the conditions of space. In Pathfinder's case, we're doing so well that we have agreed to give up some of our time on the antennas, so that other projects can use it. This also means we don't have to have people working round the clock on Christmas day, but that is only a minor consideration.
I'm here today to do a little more work on the "script" called the Sequence of Events (SOE). This is a sort of time-table, telling everyone when specific activities will occur and what commands and files are used to accomplish them. In addition, in some cases, it also lists what responses we expect from the spacecraft and the duration and specifics for the various contacts we have scheduled in which we can speak with the spacecraft to send commands and receive information (aka telemetry). All this info is presented in a colum and line format, somewhat similar to a play or movie script. I also put much of the same information into a graphical form, called an SFOS (I have no idea what this stands for.....), which makes some of the information easier to understand. Anyway, since my sequence starts next week, I need to do a little work today to prepare for it.
Walking around the floor today, re-reading all the good wishes we have posted everywhere, I'm struck again by the support that has been offered so freely by so many. From the sheets signed by MGS personnel, wishing us a "nominal day" for our launch, to the huge poster from the Galileo team, everyone at the lab has been positive and upbeat. But it doesn't stop there--letters from school children to their congress critters, asking for more support for the space program, the "Martian Driver's License" sent to our rover drivers by one class, the enormous rocket with students' pictures and a "piece of Mars" for it to land on, the advice, the good luck wished to us by children, students, and people from all over--it's been overwhelming. I just hope that, when that first picture comes down from Mars next Friday, everyone who has written, drawn, sculpted, or otherwise conveyed their support for our team understands that they have been a part of it; not just in taxes paid, but in the emotional energy, the reaching out, the curiosity, the drive to know more. Yes, spacecraft require money to be built, but they also need people--those cheering and watching no less than those with the wrenches and those at the keyboards. Knowing how much everyone believes in us and is pulling for our success really brings out the best in us. Thanks so much!
Waiting.
I.....really......hate.......waiting.
Most of my work is done, everything that has to be done pre-landing. The Nav guys (actually, two guys and a gal) are busy as beavers, checking and rechecking our trajectory, or flight path. There is a possibility of one more maneuver, and they have to analyze all the data they can get, right up to the time of that potential maneuver, to decide if it needs to be done. That will happen (or not happen) some time tonight.
Technically, I don't start work until 11:00 p.m. (23:00, by our clocks) tomorrow night, which means that I SHOULD be sleeping tomorrow afternoon--just about when all the data is coming down. Right; like I'll be able to sleep through that. I'll try to stay up tonight until about 5 or 6, so that I'll sleep in the morning, but I'm not optimistic. There will just be too much excitement, and I'll be too anxious. At least they've brought in cots for anyone who has to sleep in their office, for whatever reason. (After a night shift during one of our tests, I fell asleep on the freeway while driving home. No accident, nobody hurt, but it scared the bejeezes out of me. Now I have a sleeping bag and pillow in my office, so I can sleep a few hours, if I need to, before I drive home.)
This time tomorrow, the first picture comes down.....
What a rush.
Could it possibly (with the exception of not deploying the rover) have gone any better? Right up to the end, there were people (some of them at NASA headquarters!) who honestly believed we'd be a smoking hole in the ground by now--yet we not only exceeded THEIR expectations, we are vastly exceeding even our own wildest hopes. Contact with the spacecraft all the way to the ground. Contact immediately after we rolled to a stop. Landing on the base petal. Only 2 degrees of tilt. The high gain antenna pointing within 1 degree of Earth. If you wrote a story with this as a plotline, no one would believe it. We have received congratulations from the immediate world, from big wigs to just plain folks. I guess we weren't too wrong when we felt recently that the eyes of the world were on us.
I missed most of the excitment, however, except via the replays. Since I was scheduled to start work at 11 p.m. that night, I was actually sleeping when we landed and when we got the first data from the spacecraft. Made me feel a bit of an outsider--I know all the people in those clips, all those ecstatic folks, hugging and laughing and crying, but I wasn't there to share it. Something bittersweet about the fact that, as a member of the team, I was unable to participate as fully as if I had been a complete spectator. Even though I knew this would happen, it's still not what I expected. Will have to think about it some more.
What a relief to get the rover deployed! We were all worried last night, when we couldn't communicate with the rover, that something was seriously wrong. However, they have the modem system working again, so we can breathe a sigh of relief.
Someone said yesterday that the whole thing has been like some high-power baseball game, with each person having to step up to the plate and swing. First, Pieter Kallemeyn and the Nav team got a solid hit, landing well within our target ellipse. Then Rob Manning connected with a flawless execution of EDL (entry, descent, and landing), culminating with the signal of a safe landing coming immediately after the lander settled, hours before it was expected. Next, Jennifer Harris and the flight team singled with a completely nominal first half of the first sol. A high five between Peter Smith (the camera principal investigator) and Chris Shinohara (one of the people responsible for the building and programming the camera) signaled the first high-gain antenna contact. (Their camera had to locate the sun and communicate it's location to the lander, to allow the lander to know where to point the high gain.) Next, the image processing guys sweated out the appearance of the first images--this had been a sticky point in several of the ORTs (operational readiness tests), but went without a glitch when it counted.
All this left the rover team with a full count, and bases loaded. They worked tirelessly through the night, analyzing, simulating, hypothesizing. And all that work paid off--they rolled down the ramp and onto the Martian soil late this evening, and the entire floor erupted into shouts and cheers when those first pictures of the rover on the ground came in. And, even though we were watching history in the making, I think we were more happy for the individuals involved, that their work and skill had been rewarded with such a splendid, well-earned success.
When we first heard about the accuracy of the high gain antenna pointing, all the scientists were rubbing their hands and cackling over the buckets and barrels and oodles of data this implied. (The accuracy of the high gain pointing means we'll be able to use much higher data rates than was expected. There has always been the chance that the high gain antenna wouldn't work and we would be forced into the same sort of data economies that Galileo has had to use. But it's working so well that we have actually been able to QUADRUPLE the data rate. )
But what no one worked through is that to get that much data down, you have to take that much data to start with. All those gleeful smiles and greedy eyes have turned a little uncertain and glassy, as they realize that THEY are the ones who have to make the decisions and the command files. They have all this wonderful data coming down and they barely have time to look at it, because they have to be preparing for the next day's experiments. It's driving them nuts. They still want to make every bit count, but some data is better than no data, and we will only have this firehose to drink from for a short while. When our prime mission ends, we will no longer have the kind of priority on the downlink facilities that we do now, and so will have to use smaller antennas, which means lower data rates. And, while they may not have time to look at those pictures now, they will at some point soon, and they are trying to think of what combinations of filters and targets, calibrations and time-series images will give them the broadest, most complete understanding of the current environment and it's past history. While all of this had been done before landing, no one DREAMED we'd have these data rates to work with, which significantly changes what is desirable, as well as what is possible.
As a scientist myself, I can relate to where they are; still, this embarrassment of riches is kind of fun to watch. Do you know the story about the donkey and the two identical piles of hay?..........
My schedule has moved around to where I'm almost on a normal workday again, after a week and a half on the night shift. Not sure whether I like it or not; it's certainly easier to stay awake, but there is something special about working in the middle of the night. Do other people feel this way? Not sure; I've always been a night owl, and loved staying up late, so maybe that's where the magic comes from.
I'm glad, however, that this is only for a month. What I'm doing is something that I've wanted to do since I was a little girl, and still there were days last week that I desperately wanted to go home and go to sleep. How do people do this, day in and day out, especially when it isn't their dream job? I'm developing a new respect for doctors and police and firemen and factory workers who work the night shift; it's a lot harder than it looks.
The project is doing well. We seem to be closing in on the causes of all these resets of the lander computer, which have been upsetting our work timetable. The detail coming down in the less-compressed images we've started taking is spectacular; there's data here for years of study. Almost makes me think about going back to grad school.....
I'm so jealous! Some of our team members were invited to visit the sets of Star Trek:Voyager and ST: Deep Space Nine! And I can't TELL you how disappointed that I had to work and wasn't able to go! They were taken all over the sets, and when our team was introduced, the cast and crew gave them a standing ovation! Afterwards, several of the actors asked to have their pictures taken with Pathfinder folks. Quite a reversal of the usual situation! They even got to spend a lot of time talking with Rick Berman, the producer. From all I heard, a wonderful time was had by all.
I think Pathfinder and all the Star Trek shows can be seen as somewhat similar phenomena. There's a positive feel to both, a valuing of intelligence and competence, as well as a drive to do things not just "faster, better, cheaper", but RIGHT.
The same sort of feeling occurred when Levarr Burton (who played Geordie La Forge on ST: The Next Generation) was here at JPL some months before landing, working on a documentary of Pathfinder. He was surprised by how excited many of our folks were to meet him. He said, "You guys do this for real! I'm just an actor!". But in an environment of cop shows, doctor shows, and sitcoms, the Star Trek series (seri? What is the plural of series?) were some of the only ones to have scientists and engineers as positive characters. I know that meant a lot to me, and others have said the same.
Had a blast at World Con! (The World Science Fiction Convention, which was held this year in San Antonio, Texas, over Labor Day weekend.) I had never been to one outside California, so it was a real treat to note the differences and similarities. A lot fewer costumes in the halls (made mine stand out even more!) and a lower ratio of women to men, but a very friendly, welcoming feel to the whole thing.
Saw some wonderful panels; I think my favorites were the panel on fairy/folk tales, and their meaning and function in society, and the one on maiming and torturing your characters. That last was an interesting mix--two of my favorite writers (Lois McMaster Bujold and Elizabeth Moon), two EMTs (emergency medical technicians), and a pathologist. A fascinating discussion of where in the story such things are appropriate/necessary, and how to gauge the magnitude of the wound to the plot device required (i.e., if you want your hero out of commision for five minutes, you DON'T have him break a leg). The funny thing was that the whole panel was made up of women. Does this say something about these women in particular, women in general, or about our society's perception of women?
I was quite disappointed that I wasn't on any panels. I started writing to the con committee right after last year's World Con, volunteering for costuming and science panels and never heard from them. I wanted to share the science results we've gotten so far, as well as some stories about the team. They even had a panel on Pathfinder, but I wasn't able to get to it; I wanted to see who the people on the panel were, as I didn't recognize any of the names. The science panels I did attend were somewhat uneven--the panelists all seemed to have different ideas about what the topic of discussion should be. Sometimes that makes things quite interesting, but this time it just resulted in confusion.
And the big news from the con, for me at least, was that the Masquerade entry
that I was part of tied for Best in Show Workmanship, and took Best in Show
overall! Our costumes were a group of evil gods and goddesses from a role-
playing game that was popular some years ago. (My friends who planned this had
done the good gods and goddesses from the same universe some years ago, and
those had taken Best in Show, so they were trying for a repeat.) I was only
drafted to be in this thing at the end of May, (the other folks had been working
on their costumes for months) and had a few other things to do in July (as you
might guess!), so Kate and I were really thrilled that we were able to finish
AND that the work was good enough to help the group win. The Masquerade itself
was small, but there were some wonderfully creative and impressive pieces, and
the quality overall was quite high. We shared the workmanship award with "The
Samurais from Mars", which were incredibly detailed Samurai costumes made from
futuristic metals. There were only two of them but the stage SHOOK when they
walked across. Spectacular!
It's almost spooky around here these days; so many people have left the project that the floor feels abandoned. Every week we have going away lunches, often for several people. Offices stand empty, or are used for storage, fewer and fewer faces appear at meetings. I have this weird feeling that, six months from now, one of the flight software guys and I will be the only ones left, and will be alternating signatures on all the required paperwork. Feels different from the quiet of the night shift; that had a sleeping feeling to it, the natural need for rest between busy days. This feels empty and alone, hollow.
And yet the work goes on. I'm learning new jobs, filling in for folks who have left, or are moving into spaces left by others. It's kind of strange, at this point in the mission, to be doing new things, having to repeatedly consult notes. I'm quite proficient at the tasks I did for the prime mission; it's something of a "back to square one" feeling to be learning new tasks that are very different.
Take a deep breath.....
While I didn't actually WANT us to lose contact with the s/c, we've kinda been expecting it; the battery has been on it's last legs for a while. However, I heard an almost audible sigh of relief from most of the team at having a chance to get caught up. To get papers written. To actually LOOK at some of the huge quantity of data that has come down during this mission. To take a day off to get a haircut, or our teeth cleaned, or the oil changed in the car.
Personally, I was finally able to put up the web page for the Europa project that I had promised would be up in May (!) Not all of the delay was my fault, (couldn't put a page on a computer if I didn't have access) but I was feeling guilty over not having gotten it done before. Now it's up, with most of the info on it, and I was even able to make it self-contained, so that it can be moved, lock, stock, and gif files, to another server. (The one it's currently on can't handle all the traffic we're expecting.)
This has been an incredible project, and taking a few minutes to step back and put it in perspective has helped. We get so caught up in the nuts and bolts of putting commands together, testing commands, thinking of new experiments we want to try, that we loose the big picture, the wonder of what we've accomplished this summer, and over the last three years. What an amazing experience!
Is this the end?......
Still no word from the spacecraft. This is getting scary.
The last data we had from the s/c came down on September 26. We expected it to wake up the next day about 2 a.m. (Mars local time) to take pictures of the morning sky, but we never heard from it that day. We assumed that the battery had finally died, and that the s/c had dropped into a contingency mode. However, we heard nothing from the s/c in the next few days, so we attempted to command it to turn on the auxiliary transmitter (in case the main one was broken in some way). This appeared to work, as we heard a signal from the s/c on Oct. 7, starting and stopping exactly when we expected it to. However, the same commands, sent at the same times, failed to produce any result on the succeeding three days, and we have had no contact since then.
Theories abound, of course. One is that, because the transmitter and the s/c have been off for so long, the s/c is cooling down to temperatures below where it was tested. This may have changed the wavelengths at which the s/c is transmitting and receiving, but much more than anticipated. Another is that the switch between the low-gain and high-gain antennas may be stuck in the high-gain position. Also, if the battery has, indeed, died, the s/c may not be able to track time correctly, (I have this image of the s/c clock flashing "12:00", like my VCR does when there's been a power outage....) and so isn't able to point the high-gain antenna properly.
But the fact remains that we haven't had any data from the s/c since September, we can't reliably command the s/c, and we don't know what's wrong. And so, as I said before, it's getting scary. This may be the end of the project. Sad and scary both.
Thanks to JPL and NASA for images of the Pathfinder project. You can find more at the Pathfinder website.
Check out: JPL Rocket Scientist: Bridget Landry, a real Trailblazer!
Thanks to Bridget Landry, of California, for writing this Journal and sharing it with the girls of the world.
 
|
Angela
& Gina's Room |
Brigid
& Kayla's Room |
Christine
& Erika's Room |
Lauren
& Sarada's Room | Circle of Friends PenPal Club | Site Map |
|
Since 1996, your space on the web : written and edited by girls and teens from all over the world. Media Kit Feedback Newsletter Write FOR us Contact Us |
|
Copyright © 2006 A Girl's World Productions, Inc. All Rights Reserved.
|
