Flying to the Moon (9 page)

Authors: Michael Collins

BOOK: Flying to the Moon

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I got the hatch open without difficulty, and popped out into the sunlight. I could see the Agena about ten feet in front of and above me, but my first job was to turn my back on it and go plug into my nitrogen supply. There were handrails to help me reach the valve, which I did easily. However, once I got there, I had a bit of trouble getting
plugged in. The end of the hose from my gun had a metal collar on it which was supposed to clamp over the end of the valve coming out the side of the spacecraft. First the collar had to be cocked, and then it would snap forward and lock into place when it was pushed up against the valve. The trouble was that if the two halves were not aligned exactly, it would snap forward but would not lock, and then it would have to be recockedâa two-handed operation. The first time I tried, I didn't have the proper alignment, and the collar snapped forward but did not lock. This meant that I had to float free of the spacecraft, letting go of the handrail as I used both hands to recock the collar. The second time it worked, and I was really glad, because I could tell John was getting worried. As I thrashed around and banged up against the side of the spacecraft, John could feel it, and so could the Gemini's control system, which didn't like the swaying motion and reacted by firing thrusters to hold the Gemini steady. This process wasted fuel, and we were running short of that, and we wanted to save what was left to get back down into a lower orbit after we had finished with this Agena.

Back in the cockpit once more, this time with a loaded gun, I was ready to sail over to the Agena. However, John was keeping us so close to it (about ten feet) that I decided I didn't even need the gun, but could just shove away from the Gemini and float over to the Agena. That may sound strange when you consider that we were roaring along at 18,000 miles an hour, but the important thing to remember is that the Agena was traveling precisely as fast; it didn't really matter how fast we were going, provided we were both going at exactly the same speed. And John was doing
that, adjusting the Gemini's speed and position to precisely match that of the Agena. The Agena appeared motionless to me, therefore, as I stood in the open right hatch of the Gemini, peering up at the Agena's docking collar, ten feet away at the most.

When I was ready, I said, “I'm going to leap for her, John,” and he replied, “Take it easy, babe.” I pushed away from the Gemini gently, hoping that my right and left hand had each exerted exactly the same pressure, so that I wouldn't twist sideways. I also held my breath until my feet cleared the cockpit. If they had snagged on something, I would have pitched head downward and gone tumbling end over end. Fortunately, nothing snagged me, and I floated out slowly in the right direction. It wasn't more than a few seconds before I bumped gently into the end of the Agena. When I did, I noticed that part of the docking apparatus, a metal ring, had come free and was dangling loosely. I didn't want to get snarled up in that. I grabbed the end of the Agena with both hands, but it was hard to hold on, because the end of the docking collar was tapered and slippery, and my pressurized gloves were awkward. I had landed on the opposite side of the Agena from the spot the experiment package was located, so I had to go hand-over-hand around to it. When I got there, I discovered I couldn't stop. My legs kept going as the motion of my body pulled first my right and then my left hand free of the Agena, and I tumbled off into space!

At first I couldn't see a thing except the pitch-black sky as I slowly cartwheeled away from the Agena, but then the Gemini swung around into view. I found that I was about fifteen or twenty feet from it, in front of and above it, looking down at John's window and my own open hatch. I must have been just out of John's view, because he asked where I was. I began to explain, as I looked around. The Agena was below me on my left, and a loop of my umbilical line was awfully close to it. My motion was taking me away from the Agena and off to one side of the Gemini. I decided it was time to use my “gun,” to propel myself back to the Gemini. When I reached for it in its customary place on my hip, it was gone! I groped around until I found the hose leading to it, and discovered that the gun wasn't really gone, it was just trailing out behind me. I reeled in the hose, grabbed the gun, and started squirting nitrogen. My flight path carried me in a great sweeping arc around and behind the Gemini. I finally got straightened out and was approaching my open hatch from the rear when John told me he was going to have to move the Gemini downward, to stay with the Agena. I told him, “Don't go down right now.
John
,
do not go down.”
If he went down, I might sail over the top of the Gemini and miss it entirely. Also, which might be even worse, going down meant that he would have to fire some thrusters pointed upward, and I would be coming in directly over them. No one knew what would happen if their very hot exhaust gases touched my suit. The suit might even melt, and I wasn't eager to find out. Anyway, John delayed long enough for me to reach the cockpit, banging into the open hatch and hanging on for dear life. Then he moved the Gemini back into position near the end of the Agena, and I decided to make another try for the experiment package. This time, instead of pushing off with my hands, I used my gun, pointing it up at the Agena docking collar and squeezing the trigger.

Bill Anders (with camera). Mike Collins (with pole) and friends, looking for edible plants.