Neil Armstrong: A Life of Flight (37 page)

Solar corona of the moon as first seen by
Apollo 11
’s astronauts. (NASA)

“Roger.”

“I guess what’s giving it that three-dimensional effect is the earthshine,” Buzz continued. “I can see Tycho fairly clearly. At least if I’m right side up, I believe it’s Tycho, in moonshine, I mean, in earthshine. And of course, I can see the sky is lit all the way around the moon, even on the limb of where there’s no earthshine or sunshine.”

“
Apollo 11
, this is Houston. If you’d like to take some pictures,” CapCom told them, “we recommend using magazine Uniform which is loaded with high-speed black-and-white film.”

“And, Houston,” Neil joined the conversation, “I’d suggest that along the ecliptic line we can see the corona light out to two lunar diameters from this location. The bright light only extends out about an eighth to a quarter of the lunar radius.”

“Roger.”

“Houston, it’s been a real change for us,” Neil continued. “Now we are able to see stars again and recognize constellations for the first time on the trip. It’s … the sky is full of stars. Just like the nightside of Earth. But all the way here, we have only been able to see stars occasionally and perhaps through the monocular, but not recognize any star patterns.”

Neil’s view of a sky full of stars with Hydrogen Alpha located in constellation Orion 6,500 light-years distant. (
Ed Bianchina’s Astronomy
)

“I guess it has turned into night up there, really, hasn’t it?” CapCom asked.

“Really has,” Neil agreed, trying to be factual and unemotional yet at the same time letting Mission Control know what they were seeing pretty much defied description.

They moved on out of the lunar eclipse and into a clear view of the moon they were approaching and Neil told flight controllers, “Houston, the view of the moon we have now is really spectacular. It fills about three-quarters of the hatch window, and of course we can see the entire circumference, even though part of it is in complete shadow and part of it’s in earthshine. It’s a view worth the price of the trip.”

Apollo 11
approaches the moon. (NASA)

In Mission Control every monitoring console was in the green.
Apollo 11
was right on course with just ten minutes remaining before Neil, Mike, and Buzz were to fly behind the moon where their radios would be blocked. CapCom told them, “
11
, this is Houston. You are Go for LOI.”

LOI (Lunar Orbit Insertion), the vital maneuver needed to reach the moon’s surface, and
Apollo 11
’s crew was prepared for any contingency. The astronauts would be out of contact with Mission Control and just before they lost signal, CapCom radioed, “
Apollo 11
, this is Houston. All your systems are looking good going around the corner, and we’ll see you on the other side, over.”

“Roger,” Neil assured them as
Apollo 11
vanished.

Speed: 5,225 mph

Moon Distance: 355 miles

Mission Elapsed Time: 75 hours, 26 minutes

Behind the moon it was as if
Apollo 11
and its crew of three didn’t exist. They could not communicate with Mission Control. No telemetry or radio signals in, none out. The mission now existed only in their small world inside a spacecraft.

They were in their seats with their Apollo command and service modules docked with their lunar lander moving backward some 300 miles above the moon—a moon they would not see again until they turned around following the planned 6 minute, 2 second burn needed to brake their speed from some 5,000 miles to 3,000 miles per hour where lunar gravity would secure them in an orbit 61 by 169.2 miles.

The crucial rocket firing was set for 7 minutes and 45 seconds into their farside pass and Neil and Mike and Buzz double-checked their settings—once, then again, and then a third time to make sure they did it right the first time. It had to be perfect. Just one digit in the computer out of place could send them into a lunar mountain or turn them and send them into an orbit around the sun.

But that wasn’t going to happen. Neil and Mike and Buzz were sure of that. When they reached the mark, the three crew members felt the gentle ignition and heard the rumble of the SPS propulsion system burning. The numbers told them the rocket had fired and was running—burning smoothly and evenly for what seemed to Neil and Mike and Buzz an eternity. They stared into the blackness unable to see the moon—only sensing it—as their SPS propulsion system slowed their speed, moving them to within 61 miles of its surface. Their only worry was would the rocket burn too long, crashing them into the moon that was ever so near, and for 6 minutes and 2 seconds they rode
Apollo 11
to its slower speed. When it was over, finally over, it was a splendid and epochal moment: 75 hours and 55 minutes after ridding itself of its shackles on the launchpad,
Apollo 11
locked itself in lunar orbit.

No one on Earth knew that this had happened. In Mission Control this was a time of cliff-hanging suspense, a time to count the minutes and seconds that had to pass before
Apollo 11
emerged from the lunar farside to where it would hopefully signal success.

But on
Apollo 11
the celebration was already under way. The numbers were perfect. They had turned their spacecraft around and were looking down at the moon excitedly pointing out one spectacular feature after another and when they came around the lunar limb and Mission Control could hear them at the instant they should have, Earth celebrated.

“
Apollo 11
is getting its first view of the landing approach,” Neil told Mission Control, recalling the pictures and maps brought back by
Apollo 8
and
Apollo 10.

On one of the pictures Jim Lovell had taken from
Apollo 8
’s orbit only miles above the moon was a small lunar mountain. It was in the right spot for Neil and Buzz to ignite their descent stage. Lovell had named it Mount Marilyn. It would be
Apollo 11
’s landing marker.

“We’re going over Mount Marilyn at the present time,” reported Buzz.

“Roger. Thank you,” acknowledged CapCom, quickly adding, “Jim Lovell is smiling.”

Mission Control filled itself with laughter. Every flight controller knew the small mountain was named for a great wife and mother. Each also knew she had weakened only once—the day she had married Jim Lovell.

Neil’s voice broke through the laughter. “Jim has given us a very good preview of what to look for here,” he told Mission Control. “It looks very much like his pictures.”

*   *   *

“This time we are going over the Taruntius crater, and the pictures and maps brought back by
Apollo 8
and
10
have given us a very good preview of what to look at here. It looks very much like the pictures, but like the difference between watching a real football game and watching it on TV. There’s no substitute for actually being here.”

“Roger. We concur,” CapCom answered. “We surely wish we could see it firsthand.”

“You will,” Neil said. “There’ll be lots more chances.”

*   *   *

Snug in their lunar orbit, the
Apollo 11
astronauts had arrived and it was time to get the lunar module Eagle ready to land on the Sea of Tranquility. Neil and Buzz powered up their lander and moved through their list of checkouts before returning to Columbia for their fourth night.

Midday Sunday, July 20, 1969, Neil and Buzz were back aboard Eagle, and as they began their 13th orbit around the moon, Neil reported to Mike Collins, who was keeping the fires burning on board Columbia, “Eagle’s systems are looking good.”

From the command module Columbia astronaut Mike Collins watches lunar lander Eagle with Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin move away for their landing on the moon’s Sea of Tranquility. (NASA)

“Hello, Eagle,” Mission Control called. “We’re standing by, over.”

“Roger,” Neil reported back. “Eagle is undocked.”

“Roger. How does it look, Neil?” CapCom asked.

“The Eagle has wings,” he told Mission Control, and once again billions watching on television held their collective breath.

From the Eagle, Neil and Buzz followed Mike and Columbia around the moon. (NASA)

NINETEEN

THE LANDING

Columbia came around the moon followed by Eagle, and Mission Control told them, “We’re standing by, over.”

“Houston, this is Columbia. How do you read me?”

“Roger, five by, Mike. How did it go, over?”

“Beautifully.”

“Great. We’re standing by for Eagle.”

“Okay, he’s right behind me.”

Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin were ready. They stood with their boots against Eagle’s flight deck. They were flying backward with their faces parallel to the silent landscape below. Neil felt very comfortable with the astronaut in the CapCom chair in Mission Control. His name was Charlie Duke and he had already spotted a problem. Eagle’s high-gain antenna needed tuning and Neil got right on it. But more important if a serious problem popped up, Neil knew Charlie would catch it right away.