From blast off to splashdown: My days following Nasa’s historic mission to the Moon

From Blast Off to Splashdown: My Days Following NASA’s Historic Mission to the Moon

Over the past ten days, four astronauts have etched their names into space history, achieving a milestone by reaching lunar orbit and returning to Earth. As a journalist covering the Artemis II mission, I’ve witnessed their journey from liftoff to the final descent, capturing moments that blend triumph, tension, and human emotion. The experience has been as much about the crew’s resilience as it has been about the technological marvels they piloted.

Before the mission began, the astronauts assured us that on launch day, they are the most composed individuals present. I, however, found it difficult to remain tranquil. My anticipation spilled over as the rocket ignited its engines and ascended into the sky, an event that quickly became a global sensation. I was stationed at the Kennedy Space Center in Florida, beside my BBC News science colleagues Alison Francis and Kevin Church, and the moment was electrifying. The radiant light, the thunderous sound, and the sheer force of acceleration created an unforgettable sensory overload.

What struck me most was the realization that four human beings were secured within the towering 98-meter rocket, hurtling toward the Moon. As the crew gazed down at Earth from their vantage point, Victor Glover shared a heartfelt sentiment:

“Planet Earth, you look beautiful.”

That simple statement carried profound weight, encapsulating both awe and vulnerability. Following their farewell burn, the astronauts embarked on a 252,756-mile voyage, a distance surpassing Apollo 13’s previous record.

Inside the spacecraft, the astronauts’ daily routines were confined to a space roughly the size of a minibus. The lack of personal space meant no solitude, even for private moments. During a media briefing, the crew’s struggles with the Universal Waste Management System were revealed in detail. Designed at a cost of $23 million, the toilet had its share of technical hiccups. When asked about their bathroom routines, it was clear that “number twos” were managed with ease, while “number ones” required the use of collapsible urine collection devices—essentially funnel-equipped bags.

At the heart of the operation was mission control in Houston, where teams monitored every system, from navigation to life support. The tension was palpable, a constant reminder that this was a test flight, the first time both the rocket and capsule had carried humans beyond the Moon. This risk was not lost on the crew. During a quarantine interview for the Artemis II podcast, Canadian astronaut Jeremy Hansen revealed he had spoken to his wife and children about the possibility of not returning. Reid Wiseman, a single father since his wife’s passing six years ago, shared a poignant moment during the mission:

“I had honest talks with my daughters about the dangers of this journey.”

The emotional toll of these conversations resonated throughout the mission.

As the spacecraft neared the Moon, its surface revealed new details—features visible from Earth, including a bright crater that the crew named in honor of Reid’s late wife, Carroll. This gesture brought the team together in a heartfelt embrace, a moment of unity amid the vastness of space. Back in Houston, mission control was equally moved, with no one dry-eyed, including the BBC team.

The mission’s success was not just a technical achievement but a testament to the dedication of everyone involved. From NASA’s leadership to the engineers and scientists, all shared an unwavering commitment to the crew. The legacy of Apollo missions lives on, as messages from astronauts like Charlie Duke and Jim Lovell—recorded before his passing—echoed through the decades, reminding us of the enduring spirit of exploration.