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: http://www.jsc.nasa.gov/history/oral_histories/LunneyGS/Apollo13.htm
Дата изменения: Wed Jul 8 23:41:37 2015 Дата индексирования: Sun Apr 10 01:22:48 2016 Кодировка: Поисковые слова: sun |
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Flight Director Glynn Lunney expected a quiet night on the console as he began his shift on the evening of April 13, 1970. But, soon after, while the Apollo XIII crew performed a routine procedure, an explosion occurred onboard their spacecraft. For the next 14 hours, Lunney says he experienced what he considers to be the best piece of operations work he ever did or could hope to do. Read his description of how the incident “posed a continuous demand for the best decisions often without hard data and mostly on the basis of judgment, in the face of the most severe in-flight emergency faced thus far in manned space flight.” In this narrative he shares “through one decision, one choice, and one innovation at a time,” the team at Mission Control at the Manned Spacecraft Center in Houston worked together to bring the Apollo XIII crew safely home. APOLLO XIIIGlynn S. LunneyIn
the Apollo flight campaign for the exploration of the Moon,
After
the Countdown Demonstration Test [CDDT], which started on March 13,
1970, a detanking of the two cryogenic tanks commenced. The first
tank quantity dropped normally while the other tank only drained eight
percent out—a very small amount. This was attributed to an internal
leak path (probably caused by some separation of the fill line coupling
from the fill line) and it prevented a normal detanking. There had
been an earlier incident in handling the tank, well before installation
in the vehicle, and it had dropped two inches. This supported the
scenario of a mechanically caused separation and an internal leak
path.
Now, for the first time, the heaters in the tank were used to expel the lox (liquid oxygen) by boiling it off. Back in 1966, the voltage for the heater was increased from 28 volts to 65 volts in order to aid in faster pressurization. The 65 volts were supplied via a “ground test-only” harness. However, the 65 volt GSE (ground support equipment) harness also powered two thermostatic switch circuits; their function was to protect the heater assembly and tank temperature from exceeding 80 F by opening and unpowering the heater circuit. But, the thermostatic switches were never modified, qualified or acceptance tested at 65 volts. It was a serious error in our system of making changes and a reminder of how seemingly minor changes can propagate into something much worse than the situation you think you are improving. As the tank was drained with the heaters on, the tank warmed and the thermostatic switches tried to open but were welded closed by the 65 volt arcing. Therefore, the heaters continued to draw power for hours and the Teflon insulation protecting the fan motor wires routed through the heater assembly were mostly melted and destroyed. A partial fill test was conducted on March 30 with the same signature of slow drain of the second tank. It was concluded that the leak was internal to the tank—partially refilling instead of draining—and we would not be draining the tank during flight. Therefore, there was not sufficient reason to replace the tank. And so, the stage was set for the failure to come during Apollo XIII. It also became more apparent that the media coverage and perhaps the public interest had cooled noticeably from the run up to Apollo XI. The timing was ironic because after some long period of deliberation—maybe years—NASA had agreed to allow two journalists to sit in a small booth within the viewing room, overlooking the floor of the Mission Control Center [MCC]. This was never much of an issue for us because the media had full-time access to the air/ground loop with astronauts/capcom traffic and the flight director loop. So the granting of access added a real visual of the room, available to two journalists and, presumably, more personal than the ever present TV coverage of the operations floor of MCC. Certainly, to me, and I would say most others, it simply did not matter. We were familiar with some regular visitor traffic through the viewing room and we all just ignored it. The journalists' presence made no difference to us. However, it was disappointing to some that the intensity of coverage diminished after Apollo XI. I thought it was a somewhat natural reaction by the media and it did not bother me. The intensity of Apollo XI media coverage could not be maintained indefinitely. The Apollo XIII crew was Jim Lovell, Fred Haise, and Ken Mattingly through many of our training runs. However, late in the flow, Ken was replaced by the backup Jack Swigert as the CM [Command Module] pilot, because of a medical concern for Ken's exposure to a child with measles. Jim Lovell was the veteran of two Gemini flights and Apollo VIII. As with all other astronauts, the term "rookie" is really not applicable to the other two crewmen because of their total involvement and training in all the steps leading to this flight and their test flight pilot experience. For example, Fred Haise made it his business to know all about the LM, even to knowing where all the critical wires in the LM [Lunar Module] were routed behind the close-out panels and how to use that knowledge for a hot start if necessary. Jack Swigert was the astronaut office initiator of the malfunction procedure methodology for the CSM [Command Service Module]. It turned out that Ken never developed measles, but a bias to the cautious side led to his being bumped from the flight and later assigned to Apollo XVI. Although never done before, the CM pilot was the easiest person to swap out because his critical role at the Moon was the solo tending of the CSM while the other two crewmen landed. Nevertheless, I am sure it gave Jim and Deke [Slayton, Chief of the Astronaut Office] a serious round of discussions. Milt Windler was the lead flight director for XIII and was on duty for the launch phase. The countdown was normal and the Saturn V [SIVB] rumbled off the pad at 2:13 pm EST on April 11, 1970. Then, shades of Apollo VI, the second stage center engine shut down more than two minutes early. The Trench was able to verify that the guidance would perform well and the vehicle should burn all the propellant through the other four engines and end up close to a normal orbit, which it did. Then, a GO for TLI [trans lunar injection], the SIVB burned and we had the prospect of a quiet coast out to the Moon. I came out to MCC for my shift as Black Team Flight Director at about 8:30 pm CST on the evening of April 13, 1970, about two and a half days into the flight. I expected a quiet night on the console. Gene Kranz's White Team was coming to the end of a long day for the crew that ended with a narrated TV tour of the LM. The crew was back in the CSM getting ready for a sleep period. After reading the Flight Director Log and catching up with Gene, I went on a walk-around through the back rooms to take the pulse of the team. As a routine procedure at that time, the crew was asked to turn on the fans in the cryo tanks to get a uniform mixture in the tanks for the sleep period. The vehicle was 205,000 miles from Earth, 80 percent of the way to the Moon and just beginning to fall into the influence of the lunar gravity. And this was the moment when the bare, and now-powered, fan wires contacted a metal surface in the tank, discharged in the oxygen rich environment of the tank, and caused an explosion. 55:55 GET (Ground Elapsed Time [GET] since liftoff) The crew report of “Houston, we've had a problem here” changed the narrative from the start of a crew sleep period to something else—uneasy, but still not clear. Somebody turned to me and said, “Glynn, you may want to get back to the front room, NOW.” I did and plugged in at the flight director console to hear a confusing array of multiple indications of problems such as, “Main bus B under volt, fuel cell disconnect, O2 tank low pressure.” At first, it was necessary to be careful and rule out the possibility that some electrical/instrumentation problem was creating the appearance of a bad situation. 56:14 GET ( :19 minutes since problem start) The fact of a really serious condition began to dawn on the team as the crew reported the spacecraft venting particles as seen out the window (that's where the O2 is going and why the O2 tank pressure is so low, and that could be associated with the loud bang initially reported by the crew.) We soon realized that this was not a matter of preserving the landing mission, but this was now about saving the crew. Gene's team struggled to save what they could of the CSM cryo/fuel cell systems for further use and to reconfigure some of the systems so they would operate properly in the face of the electrical system failures. A CSM power down was started at 56: 22 GET and reached a level of 41 amps. 56:25 GET ( :30 minutes since problem start) EECOM was concluding that this was not an instrumentation problem and two fuel cells were indeed lost. At about this point, the crew became involved in trying to control some unexpected vehicle rates which were assumed to be due to the venting. 56:31 GET ( :36 minutes since problem start) The pressure in the other oxygen tank, O2#1, was reported low and still dropping. More power down was needed. MCC had the crew turn on tank heaters and then the fans to try to arrest the pressure loss, but to no avail. Minutes later, the CM O2 surge tank was isolated to conserve it for entry. We had only one fuel cell and its supply tank of cryo oxygen was expected to go to zero in two hours or less. It was near time to start using the LM as a lifeboat. But a few things remained to be done first. In trying to find a way to assist Gene and his team, I was already engaged with Jerry Bostick who was sorting options with the Trench for how to return home from this point. Jerry guided the Trench team through the options. John Llewellyn was also on scene to ride shotgun with Tom Weichel. John was able to focus on this downstream decision while Tom was occupied with the immediate aftermath of the problem. It is very easy to understand that there was a very strong sentiment in MCC not to go to the Moon, but to turn around and get on the way home ASAP. Understandable as that attitude was, it would take about 6000 fps to perform the necessarily very large maneuver. The only propulsion system with that much power was the Service Propulsion System [SPS] located in the service module. We had some real concern that the Service Module had been damaged in whatever had caused the original loud bang. But more importantly, there was a limited amount of power in the CSM entry batteries which would have to be used for a powered-up SPS propulsion maneuver, about 50 amps. A major burn is done normally with the higher power capability of one or more fuel cells, but the last fuel cell was fading fast. The necessary electrical power drain would probably come close to depleting the small entry batteries (the only power available for entry), and we did not yet know if they could be recharged. As another decisive negative consideration, in order to make the burn achieve 6000 fps, it would be necessary to jettison the mass of the LM descent stage, which contained most of the batteries and cooling water needed for the trip home. I summarized this situation for Gene, as described above, with Jerry's help and the Trench confirming the situation and our assessment of options. This was not even a close call. We had to go around the Moon. 56:48 GET ( :53 minutes since problem start) Gene agreed and announced the go-around the Moon decision to the team. 57:05 GET ( 1 hour:10 minutes since problem start) With full recognition of how demanding this situation was, the Black Team and I came on duty. Positions were manned by Jack Lousma at capcom, Larry Keyser at AFD, Gary Scott and Ed Fendell at INCO, Bill Boone and Maurice Kennedy at FIDO, Tom Weichel at Retro, Gary Renick and Will Presley at GUIDO, Merlin Merritt at TELMU, Hal Loden at LM Control, Clint Burton at EECOM, Jack Kamman at GNC, and Spencer Gardner and Elvin Pippert at FAO. Chris Kraft and Sig Sjoberg were also in there by this time. All the other off-shift flight controllers and astronauts gathered to help within less than an hour of the problem. (Consoles had four jacks for headsets to plug in and they were all occupied.) This flight control team was a solid set of operators, but hardly any had been in this kind of circumstance. Besides the flight controllers, we also had the best brains available through our offline SPAN communications and data network with all of the engineering and program organizations, both in NASA and industry, and from all regions of the country. The MCC was full. Even so, the Comm loop discipline was good. No illusions by now—we all knew that this was a very big hill to climb. It was time to get on with it. The situation was:
To help in understanding our response, actions can be considered in
two categories:
It also helps
to understand the evolution of the return home plan as an incremental
process. We did not begin by having a comprehensive plan, but rather
took steps as we judged them to be necessary, appropriate, or kept
us with the best range of forward options. |