Sergey shakes his head. “Growing tomatoes is a waste. If you want to grow something you can eat, you should grow potatoes. You can live on potatoes.” (And make vodka.) The practical and simple Russian perspective has merit.
When I post the first picture of the healthy zinnias on social media, there is a huge explosion of interest—6 million impressions. It’s gratifying to see people respond with enthusiasm to something I’ve come to care about. And it reinforces my thinking that people are interested in what’s going on in space if it’s presented to them in ways they can relate to.
To me, the success with the zinnias is a great example of how crew members will have to be able to work autonomously if we ever go to Mars. I care about the flowers much more than I was expecting to, partly because I’ve been missing the beauty and fragility of living things, but most likely because I was called out on Twitter for my botany skills and had something to prove.
—
IN LATE JANUARY, I gorilla up for the first time, stuffing my head and body into the plasticky-smelling gorilla suit. I’ve decided what Space Gorilla’s first adventure will be: I hide in Tim Kopra’s crew quarters and wait for him to come along. When he opens the door, I pop out and scare the shit out of him. Then I float down to the Russian segment and show the cosmonauts, who all go nuts laughing. Space Gorilla is already spreading joy.
I decide it will be funny to float in front of the camera where mission control can see me in the suit without warning them first. On a calm Tuesday afternoon when not much is going on, I make my move. I put on the suit and then drift in front of the camera in the U.S. lab until I know I can be seen on the screen. Amiko sees it on NASA TV, but no one on the ground says anything. It’s a letdown.
I’ve been thinking about ways to use Space Gorilla to engage with kids—if he could grab their attention and make them laugh, maybe they would be interested enough to listen to me talk about space and the value of science, technology, engineering, and math. Tim Peake agrees to help me by costarring in a short video in which he is shown unpacking some cargo, only to find a stowaway gorilla that chases him up and down the U.S. lab to the Benny Hill theme song, “Yakety Sax.” The video goes viral and brings new attention to what we are doing on the space station.
—
ON JANUARY 28, I lead a moment of silence for the crew of the space shuttle Challenger, which was lost thirty years ago today. The two Tims and I gather in the U.S. lab, where I say a few words honoring the memory of the crew and mentioning that their spirit lives on in our current achievements in space. I bow my head for a moment, and as I do I can’t help but remember the cold morning when my college roommate George and I watched the orbiter blow up over and over on his tiny TV. Thirty years, a lifetime ago. I couldn’t have imagined where I am now. I remember George asking me whether I still wanted to go to space and wanting to go more than ever.
A few days later, one of my Russian colleagues floats over to the U.S. segment to show me that his tooth has popped out. It’s a crown attached to an implant, like a little metal peg in the front of his mouth. There is no way to get home without the tooth-jarring Soyuz landing, so he is understandably afraid that the unsecured tooth will be knocked down his throat, or lost, on reentry; he also doesn’t want to land without it, because we are photographed so much immediately on return. I get out the dental kit, thoroughly dry both the tooth and the post with gauze, mix up some dental cement, and glue the tooth back into his mouth. My colleague gives me a broad smile, satisfied. A commander’s work is never done.
—
ONE SUNDAY MORNING, I float over to the Russian segment and greet the cosmonauts while they are having breakfast.
“Scott!” Misha calls out to me with a mischievous smile on his face. “Do you know what today is?”
“Yes,” I answer. “It’s my birthday. February twenty-first.” The last time I celebrated at home in Houston, I was fifty. Today I’m fifty-two.
“Happy birthday, Scott, but that’s not it! We have only nine days left!”
I’ve avoided counting down this whole year. I’m surprised that the single digits have crept up on me, so it seems my strategy has worked. Nine days isn’t long at all.
“Scott,” Misha says with a note of excitement in his voice, “we did it!”
“Misha,” I answer, “we had no choice!”
Sergey, Misha, and I will do a few Soyuz training sessions together so we will be ready for our descent. Misha, who will serve as flight engineer 1, needs to refresh his training for serving as Sergey’s backup; it’s been a long time.
We start packing up our things and getting organized to leave. I have to figure out what is coming back with me on Soyuz—a small package of no more than a pound or so, including the gold pendants for Amiko, Samantha, and Charlotte and silver versions for my crew secretary Brooke Heathman, my scheduler Jennifer James, and my Russian instructor Elena Hansen. A larger allotment of things can come back on SpaceX later in the spring. I need to clean out my crew quarters thoroughly so it will be fresh for the next person. Because of the way stuff can float around in space, I have to clean the walls, ceiling, and floor. I have to disassemble the small room and vacuum out the vents—those are especially gross, as they are covered with a year of dust. I also hide a plastic roach for my successor Jeff Williams to find.
Amiko tells me she’s had someone come by to check on the pool and hot tub—the pool heater broke partway through my mission and she hadn’t noticed until she started putting everything in order for my return. She knows I have been thinking about how great it will be to jump in the pool. She asks me to send a list of the things I want her to have on hand when I get back. Typing the list makes me think about home even more: the sheets of my bed, the shower, the pool and hot tub in the backyard. I’ve spent this entire year trying not to long for home, and now I’m putting myself there deliberately. It feels very strange.
I email her a list:
Subject: Stuff I Want at Home
Gatorade (the old-school green kind)
Dogfish Head 60 Minute India Pale Ale
And a six-pack of Miller High Life (remember I said I had a craving for that)
Green seedless grapes
Strawberries
Salad stuff
Cabernet
La Crema Chardonnay
Bottled water