Category: Journalist Report

Jin Sia, HSO

Forwarded from Charikleia Olympiou, remote Flight Surgeon:

I am not too eloquent when it comes to expressing myself in English as
it’s not my first language. So, for my report, I chose to bring to
your attention, this letter which was written in May 6, 1970, from
Ernst Stuhlinger and was addressed to Sister Mary Jucunda. Now you
might be thinking what does a letter addressed to a nun has to do with
our mission on Mars.

Well, at the time, Dr. Stuhlinger was serving as the Associate
Director for Science at the Marshall Space Flight Center, in
Huntsville, Alabama whilst Sister Jucunda was working among the
starving children of Kawbe in Zambia. Sister Mary Jucunda, surrounded
by dying starving children, had expressed concerns as to whether space
exploration was actually a worthwhile endeavour when at the same time,
some humans were starving to death.

Dr. Stuhlinger replied with the following letter, sharing his own
beliefs for the value of space exploration. In my opinion this is
probably one of the most eloquent and well-written statements that’s
advocating for humanity’s endeavor in space, even today, more than
five decades later.

It’s a bit long but it’s definitely worth the read 🙂

Here it goes:

THE LONG DASH
Jin Sia, HSO

They say it isn’t the speed that kills you
but the stopping.
Free the reins of the Sun’s
rays entangling the Hab in a net of
time and frenzy and the
tick tock tick tock tick tock
of raindrops dying upon the roof;
a patina of water,
here today, reincarnated tomorrow in a puff of the heavens,
returning to the cycle that is here
but isn’t supposed to be here.

From where did the water come?
From where in the disk of
spinning, spinning,
gossamer threads of matter from the dust
that came from dust that came from dust,
and that to dust will return,
from the ice-cold encrusted sleep
upon the sunken eyes of the unknown.

"Shade under my roof of dreams," says the Hab,
"Ponder in my pocket of dark," whispers the SciDome,
"Revive in me," emanates the GreenHab,
"Take a gift and leave a gift," booms the RAM from deep depths above.

Aerobrake into a shower of possibility,
fire retrorockets into a plume of vision.

At the end of the long dash
a summit awaits,
ready for another day,
ready for another day.

Forwarded on behalf of Remote Crew Journalist Stuart Hughes:

LESSONS FROM AN ANALOG VETERAN

By Stuart Hughes, Remote Crew Journalist

One of the buzzwords of the moment is “hybrid” or “blended” working.
As we emerge from the pandemic, we’re living two parallel lives – one
of them in person and the other in the virtual spaces of Zoom and
Microsoft Teams that have become our natural habitat over the past 18
months.

So it is with MDRS Crew 228. We are perhaps the first “hybrid” crew.
Our original mission date was for April 2020. Then COVID struck and
turned all our lives upside down. Remaining travel restrictions mean
we’ve been unable to come together in the Hab as we’d hoped and
planned for. As if to add insult to injury, the long-awaited news of
the lifting of the travel ban to the US came just last week – although
the changes won’t come into force in time for us to jump on a plane
and join our crew mates. So while half the crew carry out our mission
on “Mars,” the other half are watching on with more than a twinge of
jealousy from our home countries.

Prior to our original mission date I sought some advice on how to
approach a space analog mission from Anastasia Stepanova. Anastasia is
an engineer at the Russian Academy of Science. She spent a total of 10
months participating in space simulations with the Mars160 and SIRIUS
projects. When I met Anastasia, little did I know that COVID-19
lockdowns were just around the corner and the whole world was about to
gain more experience of living in isolation than any of us could have
imagined!

In my job as a BBC journalist, I’m plugged into the news cycle all
day, every day. I confess that suddenly being cut off from that
constant stream of information was the thing I was fearing most during
my time at MDRS.

Anastasia trained as a journalist, so I asked her how she coped with
living in an information black hole.

"We didn’t have the internet, only an internal server, but the
psychological team would send you information if you requested it,”
she told me.

“Funnily enough, nobody in our crew asked for any news, apart from
space news! I was asking for space news – so they sent me screen grabs
from space.com. But we didn’t know what’s going on in the world.

“I liked that. I had a little break from all that. A digital detox is
the best thing I had – I still miss it! It’s harder when you’re in
civilization but I still try to go to the countryside on the weekends
and not check my phone for a whole day."

Not being able to monitor the TV news bulletins for months on end may
not have troubled Anastasia Stepanova but there were some reminders of
home she yearned for while taking part in analog missions.

“You start to miss smells and sounds,” she admitted.

“In the last simulation (SIRIUS) we had a really artificial
environment. We were in a hermetic chamber and we had a unique
atmosphere, totally independent from Earth’s. The air pressure was 3%
higher than on Earth to keep dust particles out. We had the sound of
the ventilation but we didn’t have the sound of the wind or rain or
waves. We didn’t have pleasant smells. When mint appeared in the
greenhouse everyone came there to smell it and remember the Earth. You
also miss colours and lights. I think the design of a future space
station is very important. It should be a mixture of high tech and
very earthy.”

I asked Anastasia for her personal tips for coping with the
confinement of an MDRS mission, never anticipating that I’d soon be
using them inside the four walls of my own home in London!

"Always separate the professional from the personal,” she advised.

“If you discuss something and have a disagreement, don’t take it
personally. Keep your sense of humour – in all my crews we had a sense
of humour, and it saved us so many times. When we had conversations
that were on the edge, jokes would lighten things up and we could move
on. If you feel a bit irritated, try to put yourself in the other
person’s place or go and do some exercise.

“If something bothers you, calm down first and then discuss how you
can sort it out. That’s the key. I know it’s hard, especially when
you’re in there and everything seems so big. But just breathe out,
breathe in, do some yoga or meditation, write, play video games or
listen to music. I did yoga in front of the greenhouse, so I had my
"Earth corner." Just take some time for yourself and then you can
react.”

Although it’s frustrating not to be able to be alongside my crew mates
at MDRS, my frustration dissolves into nothing when I remind myself of
the overarching goal – to create a permanent human presence on Mars.

As Anastasia Stepanova says, “For the first time ever in history maybe
we’ll build a life on Mars. Maybe we’ll be the ones who see how the
whole conception of our existence changes – and that’s amazing.”

The pandemic that has ruled our lives for too long will pass and the
chance to fulfil my long-delayed dream of visiting MDRS will come. If
there’s one thing COVID has taught us, it’s the importance of patience
and the ability to overcome disappointments and setbacks.

The end goal is worth the wait.

END

Crew 235 Journalist Report 06May2021
Author: Jeff Streba, Crew Journalist
Sol 4: Log Entry

Another beautiful day on Mars.
We had an early morning EVA out to the overlook and then we collected Gypsum and Sandstone samples. Because of the lack of functional suits, only 3 people went on
each EVA.

While one EVA team was out the other team analyzed bacteria. We were all impressed with the results.

When everyone was together, we discussed how to incorporate both the bacteria experiment and rockhounding into our classrooms.

We then ended our sim

Crew 235 Journalist Report 05May2021
Authors: Thomas Quayle and Randall Gibson, Crew Journalist

Sol 3: Generally Speaking, It Goes Like This

Morning began with a brisk wind and another species of Rodentia captured. The crew has been remarkably passive about the recurring nature of the event. What began as a mixed curiosity has evolved into a morning routine, complete with EVA procedures, and smiles.

However, the first order of the day: coffee and another round of lively discussion surrounded the breakfast table. Today’s topic was the politics of Earth. We are hopeful they will come to solve their problems in time. The morning fair consisted of sausage and eggs. It has been great to enjoy the variety of meals that each of the crew members has been willing to jump in and prepare.

Little did the crew suspect that the quiet morning would not remain so for long. Even the most well-planned EVA cannot account for everything a crew can prepare for or expect. Their mission was to search for specific geologic samples in a region that was located nearly twice as far as the previous day’s activities.

More than an hour had passed from when the first EVA team had departed when a call came over the radio, “Hab, Hab!..”. The other half of the crew at the Hab quickly responded and was informed that the EVA was being aborted. Within minutes of the radio communique, the EVA team had arrived.

Thankfully no one had been injured, but a malfunction in the power pack of the Commander’s spacesuit (redacted) had occurred that seriously affected the ability for air to be recirculated. While it is not yet known where the malfunction took place or how it was missed, the event has impacted our EVA assessments for the duration of our mission. Each team will now have to continue with one crew member volunteering to abstain from participation. In the end, the second EVA team was able to successfully manage the completion of objectives scheduled for the day.

After the second EVA returned to the Hab, the crew reconvened as a single group to rest and clean the remains of lunch until the next event of the day. Shannon led a crew discussion on the assembly of Estes Rockets and the pitfalls to consider when introducing the topic to students. Each member of the crew was able to construct their own prototype, which should be available for launch tomorrow.

The crew then joined Shannon in the Science Dome to compare the samples that had been collected across multiple EVA’s. In the last significant event of the day, the astronomy box was retrieved from the outpost. This was the final component required to activate the solar observatory, which the crew is looking forward to using tomorrow.

As a social component, the crew finalized a Lego build that had been started the previous day. The genders and position of the Lego figures were debated and rearranged by the crew. The dinner discussion covered several topics, including the similarities to the Lewis and Clark expedition.

Jennifer prepared an incredible culinary masterpiece of southern fried chicken, fried potatoes, biscuits, and gravy by using dehydrated ingredients. This was surely the best meal yet to be prepared on this planet, and she shall be henceforth be known as the “Mars”tha Stewart.

Crew 235 Journalist Report 04May2021
Author: Krysta Darby, Crew Journalist
Sol 2: Rock Sampling and Mission Patch Design

The day started at approximately 7:15am Earth’s MT when Thomas got up and started the coffee. Members of the crew got up one by one, eager to look out onto the Martian landscape. Atila filled the water tank, but recommended going forward it be filled at night in case there are any unforeseen issues overnight. A rodentia unfamilia was captured at an unknown time and was released out of the airlock by Randall. Director Shannon continued to work on the new generator, and the crew went into low power mode. While Krysta fixed a breakfast of spinach scrambled eggs and spam, the crew assembled around the table for morning coffee. Conversation over breakfast ranged from the day’s tasks to human rights issues in education. So far this crew has not shied away from digging deep into controversial topics. Atila and Randall led cleaning efforts in the kitchen as breakfast and a heated debate came to a conclusion.

After breakfast, Atila briefly reviewed the map of local terrain with the crew.

Today’s goal was for both teams to retrieve rock samples from Kissing Camel.

At 9:00, the crew traveled to the science dome to review the types of samples that could typically be found in the surrounding area with our resident expert, Shannon. For the purposes of this expedition, we will be referring to petrified wood as sulfur, blueberries as hematite, and lava rock as breccia. Temperature of the incubator was found to be 56 degrees Celsius. Atila adjusted to bring the temperature down to 25 degrees.

At 9:45, the crew headed back to the hub to prepare for the first team’s expedition. Jen, Randall, Jeff, and Allison stayed behind and prepared a lunch of macaroni and cheese casserole, while Atila, Krysta, Thomas, and Jennifer left the hub to collect samples from Kissing Camel. Krysta and Jennifer rode ATV’s and Atila and Thomas took the rover. They successfully collected several samples of sulfur along with some unique samples which will be analyzed. One fatality was reported due to a removed glove. Crew members are still acclimating to wearing suits for extended periods of time. A lack of maneuverability and the weight of the suit has been a challenge, but the adrenaline from inhabiting Mars fuels the team making the weight and discomfort of a space suit a minor inconvenience.

The first team returned to the hub at approximately 11:50am, and assisted the second team as they prepared for their expedition. First team enjoyed the macaroni and cheese casserole heartily and cleaned up the aftermath. The second crew reached Kissing Camel with no issues and collected samples, taking careful note of the context in which each sample was found. There was a second fatal mistake while the commander was adjusting her helmet. The crew is learning fast. Second team returned at about 1:30pm. They then had to sanitize the helmets and return the suits.

After comparing rock finds, the crew collaborated on patch design. It was noted that patch designs typically have the mission number/name/designation, and the design should represent the purpose of the mission. Last names of crew members usually border the patch, and flags of nationalities are also incorporated. After looking at examples and some brainstorming, the crew decided to incorporate symbolic representations of education, STEM, and collaboration. The patch will also incorporate a hexagon to represent the Beehive State, geometric lines representing the geodesic science dome, and the overall shape will represent the habitat. Allison has taken lead in final design as the person with the most experience in this field.

Each Crew member is currently working on their own project (reports, patch design, and telescope observations) for a few hours before the crew will come together for team building and dinner.

Crew 235 Journalist Report 03May2021
Author: Jennifer Grimes, Crew Journalist
Sol 1: Questioning My Life Choices
As I pulled up to the red cattle guard at 10:15 pm last night, I questioned where am I at? What have I gotten myself into? It took about 30 minutes in the dark to locate the MDRS. Once I arrived at the MDRS and was secure inside I felt more comfortable with my decision to come here. I was so tired from my 19.5 hour drive I crashed and slept all now. After getting up I enjoyed a great pancake for breakfast. Crew started the day with a tour of MDRS and proper training on how to operate and maneuver the rovers. After that we were excited to get our flight suits and gear up to do our practice EVA. We were instructed on the optimal safety protocols to survive on Mars while completing our real EVAs. We collected rock samples while out on our practice EVA. After our lunch break we went to the lab, created agar, that we set up in a ziplock bag to see what bacteria will grow from the samples we collected. After experiencing the practice EVA I am so ready to begin our SIM. We will wake up on Mars tomorrow.

Crew 235 Journalist Report 03May2021
Author: Allison Weber, Crew Journalist
Sol 1: Mission Log

With a meeting set for 9am, the cohort woke up in various states of coherence between the hours of 6 and 8:30. Some were early risers, taking their tea and the morning to themselves. Others, like me, tried to sleep as long as they could on a Monday morning. The one thing you have to understand about our cohort is that it’s the educator mission. Part of NASA’s "Spaceward Bound" program, MDRS brought 7 teachers to the desert of Hanksville, Utah for a week-long professional development/Mars analog simulation/STEM education opportunity. No students to manage? No papers to grade? And all sorts of science to learn? This was a learning vacation, and I was determined to make the most of it by catching up on my sleep.

Breakfast was as characteristic of teachers as was considering waking up at 7 "sleeping in": coffee and whatever else you could quickly find. The cohort struggled productively against the drip coffee maker. Upon seeing our sorry breakfasts, the commander decided to make us a REAL breakfast of blueberry and chocolate chip pancakes. The leftovers were stowed away for later. I ate all of them for lunch.

Shannon (Director of MDRS) and Atila (Assistant Director) came up to the main living habitat to enjoy the morning with us. Shannon was the one who had written the handbook. She was the one behind such ominous phrases as "If you don’t bring [Object from the recommended supply list], you might as well leave". With that and infrequent emails being my only exposure to Shannon prior to arriving at MDRS, I was intimidated by the mere idea of her. Shannon moseyed into the living space wearing leggings reminiscent of the works of Piet Mondrian and a graphic tee of a triceratops skeleton and the phrase "COPROLITE HAPPENS". She still intimidates me, but in a good way.

Hearing the discussion between Shannon, Atila, and Jen (our commander, who had been here before) enlightened me on the different philosophies there could be towards "sims". Simulation learning was one of those methods of instruction I’d heard about in college, but was never given the opportunity or the resources to study in-depth. It’s too resource- and preparation-intensive to do often in the classroom. In the unique environment provided by MDRS, simulation learning can be explored and enacted at a scale inequivalent, but comparable, to that in the classroom.

The group discussed concerns as small as practicing mise en place and as big as instilling life skills in the next generation. As Shannon recounted, groups would leave the rover without plugging it in to charge. The natural consequence of this was not being allowed to use it the following day, resulting in very frustrated researchers. Atila phrased it as the researchers forgetting; Shannon phrased it as lack of action. "People don’t understand how to be proactive," she said. The difference in mindsets between the two top members of our group was fascinating to see. What was even better was the constructive way people disagreed! Respectful problem-solving and communication skills are going to be invaluable on Mars.

A little before noon, we took our first steps on "Mars". (We still weren’t "in sim", the phrase for actively treating the world around us as Mars.) Suiting up beforehand was an experience. First, we had to change out of civilian clothes; then, into undershirts and leggings to wick away sweat; then socks; then flight suits; then shoes; THEN suits. Depending on the model of spacesuit you chose, it could’ve been between 10 and 20lbs. Both models had an abysmal range of motion for your head, and vision that all but eliminated your peripheral view. Helmets clunk together in the airlock. We got all nice and cozy, shoulder-to-shoulder, before heading out.

Our very first trip on Mars was a sacred experience. All we did was take the rover up to Pooh’s Corner, look at rocks, and spot an extraterrestrial lizard, but it was just… even if I HAD brought a thesaurus, I would not be able to find the words to describe it. Meditative, amazing, joyful, engaging, enlightening, all at once. We felt the weight of the helmets and packs long after we returned to the Hab and suited down.

After our trip, we found canned tuna, and tried to make mayo to bind it together into a tuna fish cracker spread. A pair of our crewmembers said it wasn’t bad, but as I stared on at the pumpkin puree-colored mass lumped between the prongs of a whisk, I had the complete opposite of a spiritual experience and felt less "enlightened monk" and more "Gordon Ramsey".

The rest of the day was good. Some of us took naps, some of us talked. We learned how to make agar (the gel-like substance found in petri dishes) in a classroom setting and went on a hunt around the Hab for surfaces to swab. Within the next few days, we’ll try to guess who swabbed what based on the pattern of bacterial growth. A crew member threw out the joke that we would be safe to put the samples in the incubator, so long as we didn’t wake up encased in goo. That may contribute to some John Carpenter nightmares later tonight.

As I write this, the crew, including Atila and Shannon, are seated in the upper floor of the Hab. We are about to have Spam and rice for dinner. I’ve eaten enough candy bars (only Mars brand, of course) and dehydrated strawberries that my stomach grumbles, so it looks like this trip will have two end results for me: a wealth of knowledge on the whole process of simulation learning, and the loss of at least 5 pounds.

Crew 223 Journalist Report 13Mar2020

Author: Clément Plagne, Journalist

Sol 12: Closing in

It’s weird to wake up knowing that that heavy airlock door you heard shut such a short time ago was going to open just that evening. Honestly, while knowing that it’s over will be a relief, I think all of us would also like it to last just a little longer. It’s part of the experience to know that you can never do everything you intend to, and that you will face challenges that will slow you down. The job is as much about dealing with these challenges as it is doing what you came here to do. And challenges we had to face, even today. We had so many great days early on, I think that the MDRS gods decided to punish us before the end.

We awoke not only to the thought of that door, but also to pouring rain. A bad situation on clean-up day. The corridors between buildings in the station are insulated, but we still walk on the ground, or, as we had to today, the mud. Wind was howling even after rain had stopped, and the EVA that we had already moved to the afternoon was becoming even more perilous. After four weeks of loyal services to our two crews, the weather station for the LOAC experiment finally lost against the wind and fell over, mere hours before being dismantled. Nevertheless, the EVA was a great demonstration of all we’d learned during our previous expeditions. In hostile conditions of strong winds and loose, muddy terrain, we managed to perform all intended procedures quickly, safely and efficiently. The conclusion of a job well done on all EVAs.

And, some time later, the experiments were all packed up and ready to go back home. We’d been entrusted with them, and we hope we did a great job of gathering data. Everyone in the station did their best, that is, excellent work, so we have high hopes for the results to be valuable. We were just counting minutes until we could say the simulation was broken, and there it was: the outside, not seen through a glass helmet. We all ran around in the mud like children, and waited for Shannon, whom we’d invited over for dinner, to come inside the Hab. She’s done a fantastic job of helping us throughout the mission, and we are all grateful to have her here.

I’m writing these last few lines while she’s here: she has far too many good stories about her tenure at MDRS, and I’m finding myself hurriedly doing my best to finish up before missing the comms window. Tomorrow will be my last report, and there’s a lot to think about and a good look back to do.

Crew 223 Journalist Report 12Mar2020

Author: Clément Plagne, Crew Journalist

Sol 11: Life goes on

After yesterday’s news, it was not only hard to get some good sleep, but also difficult to spend the day without looking at our computers, hanging on to every email and piece of information we could find. We do have a bit of internet in the Station, but it’s limited, sometimes messy, and reserved in priority for the Comms window in the evening, to send all our critical reports to mission support. So we make do with what’s available: the few emails from friends and family on Earth, and a few articles on the internet. We’d never really even thought about looking at our emails outside of that comms window, and we actually felt refreshed to not be inundated by information from everywhere. Now, not only have two weeks of social isolation taken a toll on us, but we got closer to Earth only to see it hurt, sick and confused. We’re leaving in two days, and we know that we’re going to find Earth different than how we left it.

We don’t really know if we’re lucky to be here or not, when we know what’s out there. On the one hand we’re safe, and being disconnected from the world allows us to some distance to process everything rather than taking it all in the face. On the other hand, there’s so much we don’t know, can’t know easily, and the distance can easily become a stressor. Safety doesn’t matter as much as being close to your loved ones, and it’s especially hard to know that there is no walking away from the mission at hand.

One of the books that has been going around the Hab was Chris Hadfield’s fantastic “An Astronaut’s Guide to Life on Earth”. In it, he explains that he isn’t afraid during missions, no matter the danger. He’s worked hard to make sure he could fix everything that could be fixed if something goes wrong, so it’s just procedure. We’re no astronauts, and don’t have that much training for a mission like this, but we knew what to expect, we were ready to accept that, and now that things aren’t going smoothly, we keep going. There’s little we can do, so we do that and wait until we can do more. The mission is nearing its close and we’re busy packing things up and finishing off what we started. Getting busy is an added bonus that helps us get our minds off things.

We move on with our day, and the routine goes well. In our free time, games, movies, as well as Blandine’s positive thinking and relaxation exercises do a tremendous job of cutting through the and gloom. In little time we’ll be back on Earth, with a lot to catch up on and a lot of plans to change. We’ve spent two weeks figuring things out in an unusual place. We can do it again.

Crew 223 Journalist Report 10Mar2020

Author: Clément Plagne, Crew Journalist

Sol 10: Save it for rainy days

Today, we woke up to the sound of raindrops softly hitting the roof of the Hab. On any other day, the idea of spending a day with friends, stuck inside, watching rainfall from the window from the comfort of y. our home can be pleasant. It is much less so when you don’t always get to go outside even when it’s sunny. In fact, it is even less so because we must go outside somehow, but don’t know how we’ll do it safely. The science doesn’t care if it rains, and at least two of us must go on EVA to make sure everything is alright.

The sky is a cruel mistress. Explorers on Mars will be lucky enough to avoid rain, but may have to suffer through massive dust storms. Not knock over Matt Damon’s spaceship bad (the film kind of exaggerates that), but wide enough to cover much of the planet, and capable of causing electrical malfunctions and power losses. The even bigger danger comes from far away. With little atmosphere and no magnetic field, Mars is particularly vulnerable to solar winds and the intense radiation from solar flares.

It’s ironic to write a report about our astronomer’s work on a cloudy morning. Florian’s luckily had the chance of doing some fantastic work while he had clear skies, and still has things to do when he doesn’t do observations. Astronomy isn’t just pointing a telescope at the sky. During the day, the sun needs to be tracked and monitored. Night-time observations through the remote-controlled telescope must be scheduled, with the necessary calibrations that come with it. And once the observations are done, there are heaps of treatment needed to create a beautiful picture, or one where data can be extracted. Besides astrophotography, Florian looks at thirty galaxies in a search for supernovae: incredibly powerful, but very short-lived and extremely rare explosions of massive stars.

Things then began looking up: having a free-ish morning helped us all cook delicious burgers for lunch, we saw some tomatoes beginning to grow, and the sky turned blue in the afternoon which helped us take a look at the observatory and watch the sun live. Things began to look up, until they kind of didn’t.

“This is Shannon, is everyone together right now?”, buzzed the Station Director over radio. That’s an unexpected one, as we’re left alone all day long usually. We were reading, coincidentally, our daily email from Supaéro students back on Earth, with focus on the coronavirus epidemic.

“The World Health Organisation has recently classified COVID-19 as a pandemic.”

Well, not an epidemic anymore, I guess. Earth sure does spin when we’re away. When we cut ourselves off most communications, Italy was looking somewhat worrisome, but things felt fine enough at home. In recent days, it turns out everything looks like it’ll be canceled, and we’re probably in for some quarantine coming back.

The good thing is, we’re probably some of the safest human beings in the world right now. The bad news is, all our plans for our return have been thrown into chaos. There’ll be no crew following us, and no one is looking forward to LA anymore. We began our day with our eyes looking at the sky, and end it looking back at Earth. We look with worry to the people at home, and hope they’re as healthy as we are.

Provenance : Courrier pour Windows 10