Chris Hadfield - An Astronauts Guide to Life on Earth

Colonel Chris Hadfield has spent decades training as an astronaut and has logged nearly 4,000 hours in space. During this time he has broken into a Space Station with a Swiss army knife, disposed of a live snake while piloting a plane, been temporarily blinded while clinging to the exterior of an orbiting spacecraft, and become a YouTube sensation with his performance OF David Bowies Space Oddity in space. The secret to Chris Hadfield's success and survival is an unconventional philosophy he learned at NASA: prepare for the worst and enjoy every moment of it.

In his book, An Astronauts Guide to Life on Earth, Chris Hadfield takes readers deep into his years of training and space exploration to show how to make the impossible possible. Through eye-opening, entertaining stories filled with the adrenaline of launch, the mesmerizing wonder of spacewalks and the measured, calm responses mandated by crises, he explains how conventional wisdom can get in the way of achievement and happiness. His own extraordinary education in space has taught him some counterintuitive lessons: don't visualize success, do care what others think, and always sweat the small stuff.

You might never be able to build a robot, pilot a spacecraft, make a music video or perform basic surgery in zero gravity like Colonel Hadfield. But his vivid and refreshing insights in this book will teach you how to think like an astronaut, and will change, completely, the way you view life on Earth especially your own.

Chris Hadfield

ePub r1.0

betatron 23.04.14

Chris Hadfield, 2013

Digital editor: betatron

ePub base r1.1

To Helene, with love.

Your confidence, impetus and endless help

made these dreams come true.

CHRIS AUSTIN HADFIELD (Sarnia, Ontario, 1959) is a retired Canadian astronaut who was the first Canadian to walk in space. An Engineer and former Royal Canadian Air Force fighter pilot, Hadfield has flown two space shuttle missions and served as commander of the International Space Station.

Hadfield, who was raised on a farm in southern Ontario, was inspired as a child when he watched the Apollo 11 Moon landing on TV. He attended high school in Oakville and Milton and earned his glider pilot licence as a member of the Royal Canadian Air Cadets. He joined the Canadian Armed Forces and earned an engineering degree at Royal Military College. While in the military he learned to fly various types of aircraft and eventually became a test pilot and flew several experimental planes. As part of an exchange program with the United States Navy and United States Air Force, he obtained a master's degree in aviation systems at the University of Tennessee Space Institute.

In 1992, he was accepted into the Canadian astronaut program by the Canadian Space Agency. He first flew in space aboard STS-74 in November 1995 as a mission specialist. During the mission he visited the Russian space station Mir. In April 2001 he flew again on STS-100 and visited the International Space Station (ISS), where he walked in space and helped to install the Canadarm2. In December 2012 he flew for a third time aboard Soyuz TMA-07M and joined Expedition 34 on the ISS. He was a member of this expedition until March 2013 when he became the commander of the ISS as part of Expedition 35. He was responsible for a crew of five astronauts and helped to run dozens of scientific experiments dealing with the impact of low gravity on human biology. During the mission he also gained popularity by chronicling life aboard the space station and taking pictures of the earth and posting them through Twitter, Facebook and Tumblr to a large following of people around the world. He was a guest on television news and talk shows and gained popularity by playing his guitar in space. His mission ended in May 2013 when he returned to earth. Shortly after returning, he announced his retirement, capping a 35-year career as a military pilot and an astronaut.

ONE MORNING A STRANGE THOUGHT occurs to me shortly after waking: the socks I am about to put on are the ones Ill wear to leave Earth. That prospect feels real yet surreal, the way a particularly vivid dream does. The feeling intensifies at breakfast, when reporters jostle each other to get a good photo, as though Im a condemned man and this is my last meal. Similarly, a little later on, when the technicians help me into my custom-made spacesuit for pressure checks, the joviality feels forced. Its the moment of truth. The suit needs to function perfectlyit is what will keep me alive and able to breathe if the spacecraft depressurizes in the vacuum of spacebecause this isnt a run-through.

I am actually leaving the planet today.

Or not, I remind myself. There are still hours to go, hours when anything could go wrong and the launch could be scrubbed. That thought, combined with the fact that Im now wearing a diaper just in case we get stuck on the launch pad for a very long time, steers my interior monologue away from the portentous and toward the practical. Theres a lot to remember. Focus.

Once everyone in the crew is suited up, we all get into the elevator in crew quarters to ride down to the ground and out to our rocket ship. Its one of those space-age moments I dreamed about as a little kid, except for the slowreally slowelevator. Descent from the third floor takes only slightly less time than it does to boil an egg. When we finally head outside to walk toward the big silver Astro van that will take us to the launch pad, its that moment everyone knows: flashbulbs pop in the pre-dawn darkness, the crowd cheers, we wave and smile. In the van, we can see the rocket in the distance, lit up and shining, an obelisk. In reality, of course, its a 4.5-megaton bomb loaded with explosive fuel, which is why everyone else is driving away from it.

At the launch pad, we ride the elevator upthis one moves at a good clipand one by one we crawl into the vehicle on our hands and knees. Then the closeout crew helps strap me tightly into my tiny seat, and one of them hands me a note from Helene, telling me she loves me. Im not exactly comfortablethe spacesuit is bulky and hot, the cabin is cramped, a distinctly un-cushion-like parachute and survival kit is wedged awkwardly behind my backand Im going to be stuck in this position for a few hours, minimum. But I cant imagine any place else Id rather be.

After the ground crew checks the cockpit one last time, says goodbye and closes the hatch, its time for pressure checks of the cabin. Banter ebbs: everyone is hyper-focused. This is all about increasing our chances of staying alive. Yet theres still a whiff of make-believe to the exercise because any number of things could still happena fault in the wiring, a problem with a fuel tankto downgrade this to just another elaborate dress rehearsal.

But as every second passes, the odds improve that were going to space today. As we work through huge checklistsreviewing and clearing all caution and warning alarms, making sure the multiple frequencies used to communicate with Launch Control and Mission Control are all functionalthe vehicle rumbles to life: systems power up, the engine bells chime for launch. When the auxiliary power units fire up, the rockets vibration becomes more insistent. In my earpiece, I hear the final checks from the key console positions, and my crewmates breathing, then a heartfelt farewell from the Launch Director. I go through my checklist a quick hundred times or so to make sure I remember all the critical things that are about to happen, what my role will be and what Ill do if things start going wrong.