From blast off to splashdown: My days following Nasa's historic mission to the Moon
From Ignition to Impact: Documenting NASA’s Pioneering Lunar Voyage
For the past ten days, a quartet of astronauts has etched their names into history, venturing farther into the cosmos than any humans have ever traveled. As the crew of the Artemis II mission completed their round-trip journey to the Moon, I tracked every phase of their expedition—from the initial liftoff and lunar flyby to the tense final moments of re-entry and landing.
Before they ascended into the void, the crew shared a piece of wisdom: launch day is when astronauts remain the most composed individuals in the room. I, however, was far from calm.
Standing near the countdown clock at Florida’s Kennedy Space Center, accompanied by my BBC News science colleagues Alison Francis and Kevin Church, I witnessed a visceral spectacle. The experience was overwhelming: the blinding white intensity of the flames, the deafening roar that seemed to lag seconds behind the visual, and the physical force of the blast that resonated through the body. Amidst the chaos, it was difficult to fully comprehend that four people were strapped to the pinnacle of a 98-meter-tall rocket, poised for a trip to the Moon.
As the crew—Reid Wiseman, Victor Glover, Christina Koch, and Jeremy Hansen—gained their first view of Earth from orbit, Glover addressed the planet with a simple, heartfelt message: "Planet Earth, you look beautiful." Following this moment, a burn from the spacecraft’s main engine signaled their departure, initiating the quarter-million-mile trek toward the lunar surface.
As the astronauts adjusted to microgravity, live feeds from inside the capsule revealed the cramped nature of their living quarters. They were confined to a space roughly the size of a minibus, where they lived, worked, ate, and slept with no privacy from one another or from the global audience watching their every move.
Particular scrutiny was directed toward their Universal Waste Management System, commonly referred to as the toilet. The unit, which cost $23 million to develop, suffered from plumbing issues. During a media briefing, when reporters asked for an update on the astronauts’ "number ones and number twos," the crew provided intimate details of the situation. While "number twos" proceeded normally, "number ones" required the use of collapsible contingency urine devices—essentially bags equipped with funnels.
Inside the Hub of Operations
Meanwhile, at the Johnson Space Center in Houston, I observed the mission control room, the operational heart of the endeavor. Teams of specialists monitored data streams, keeping a watchful eye on everything from navigation systems to life support. This vigilance was crucial, as Artemis II was a test flight—the first time humans had flown on both the new rocket and the spacecraft. Such missions carry inherent risks.
These dangers were underscored during a conversation with Canadian astronaut Jeremy Hansen for the Artemis II podcast. Recorded while he was in quarantine prior to launch, Hansen revealed that he had discussed the possibility of not returning with his wife and three children. Similarly, Reid Wiseman, a single father who lost his wife six years ago, had candid talks with his two daughters about the risks involved.
A Tribute to Carroll
As the spacecraft approached the Moon, with the satellite dominating the window view, new lunar features came into focus. The crew identified a bright crater visible from Earth and named it "Carroll" in honor of Reid’s late wife. The moment was deeply emotional; the crew, visibly moved, gathered to embrace their commander and friend. The sentiment resonated back on Earth, where no dry eyes remained in mission control—including among the BBC team. Every NASA employee we spoke with...
Source: BBC News Generated at: 2026-04-11 23:17:07 UTC






