From blast off to splashdown: My days following Nasa's historic mission to the Moon
Title: Tracking Artemis II: My Journey from Lunar Launch to Splashdown
Over the past ten days, history was made as four astronauts embarked on a round-trip journey to the Moon, traveling farther into space than any humans have before. I have tracked every phase of the Artemis II mission, from the initial launch and the close lunar approach to the tense final landing.
Before departure, the crew shared a common sentiment: astronauts are typically the calmest individuals on launch day. I, however, was far from composed. The physical intensity of the launch was overwhelming. Standing near the countdown clock at Florida’s Kennedy Space Center, alongside my BBC News science colleagues Alison Francis and Kevin Church, I witnessed a visceral spectacle. The launch was defined by a blinding white brilliance that demanded attention, a deafening roar that took seconds to reach the ears, and a shockwave that physically passed through the body. Amidst this power, it was difficult to fully comprehend that four people were secured at the apex of a 98-meter-tall rocket, bound for the Moon.
As the crew—Reid Wiseman, Victor Glover, Christina Koch, and Jeremy Hansen—gained their first vantage point of Earth from high above, Glover addressed the planet: "Planet Earth, you look beautiful." Following a burn from the spacecraft’s main engine, they bid farewell and commenced their 250,000-mile trek toward the lunar destination.
As the astronauts adjusted to microgravity, live feeds transmitted from inside their capsule revealed the tight quarters they occupied. The living, working, and sleeping environment was roughly the size of a minibus, offering no privacy from one another or from the global audience watching every development. Significant focus was placed on the Universal Waste Management System, colloquially known as the toilet. The $23 million system suffered from plumbing issues, leading to detailed media briefings regarding the astronauts' "number ones and number twos." The situation required the deployment of collapsible contingency urine devices—essentially bags with funnels—for solid waste, while "number twos" proceeded as normal.
Inside the Johnson Space Center in Houston, the mission control hub served as the operation’s nerve center. Staff monitored all spacecraft systems, including navigation and life support, as data streamed in continuously. This oversight was critical because Artemis II was a test flight, marking the first time humans flew on both the new rocket and the spacecraft. Such tests carry inherent dangers. During a pre-launch quarantine interview for the 13 Minutes Presents: Artemis II podcast, Canadian astronaut Jeremy Hansen emphasized these risks, revealing that he had discussed the possibility of not returning with his wife and three children. Similarly, Reid Wiseman, a widower who has raised his two daughters alone since his wife’s death six years prior, had candid conversations with them about the mission's hazards.
This personal loss culminated in a poignant moment as the spacecraft approached the Moon. As the lunar surface grew larger in the window, the crew identified a bright crater visible from Earth and named it "Carroll" in honor of Wiseman’s late wife. The crew united to comfort their commander, hugging him in tears. The emotional weight of the moment resonated back in Houston, where not a single eye remained dry in mission control, including among the BBC team members. Every NASA employee we spoke with reflected on the depth of this historic endeavor.
Source: BBC News Generated at: 2026-04-11 23:17:07 UTC






