AT CAPE KENNEDY AWESOME SIGHT AS 500-TON SATURN ROCKET IS LAUNCHED

Press, Volume CIII, Issue 30561, 2 October 1964, Page 12

AT CAPE KENNEDY AWESOME SIGHT AS 500-TON SATURN ROCKET IS LAUNCHED

I By

COLIN S. L. KEAY]

Witnessing the launching of the world’s largest rocket is an awesome experience. It carries an impact that cannot be matched by films or television, and any description falls far short of the reality. But there are many points of interest that can be described; so perhaps we should start at the beginning.

The DC-8 Fanjet Transcontinental flight arrived at Melbourne, Florida, at 7 a.m. Apart from Patrick Air Force Base, Melbourne is the closest airport to Cape Kennedy. 1 was met by Bob White, of the National Aeronautics and Space Administration, who had been asked by the Protocol Office at the Cape to pick me up on his way to work. Bob is a transportation specialist (with a university degree which he needs for his work), who lives down the Florida coast and travels 50 miles to work each djy. Checks By Guards

The 30-mile drive from Melbourne to the Cape was interesting—especially at the main gates, where every vehicle was checked by guards. Fortunately Bob had given me my security badge which I wore for the rest of the day, and I was not allowed to keep it as a souvenir! After a brief visit to the main buildings of the J. F. Kennedy Spaceflight Centre (where I was signed in and signed out again) we headed for Complex 37. Guards would not let us closer than half a mile because the huge 190 ft-tall Saturn was being loaded with liquid hydrogen. We could see oxygen vapour venting from the top of the first stage. Even at that distance the size of the rocket was impressive: it stood, on its launch pad, taller than the Christchurch Cathedral spire. We drove back from the road-block and headed for the viewing stand that had been set up on a causeway just under two miles from the Complex 37 Pad. Lift-off was timed for 10.05 a.m., and as the count-down progressed the crowd grew until about 150 persons were present. There were several Senators and Congressmen, a few busloads of visitors, and a large number of Cape workers who could spare time to watch. Like Bob White, most of them had seen several Saturn launchings and would never miss an opportunity to watch one.

A “Hold” Announced

Just before 10 a.m. a “hold” was announced. The announcer (in the blockhouse a few hundred yards from the rocket) told us over the public address system that a faulty regulator unit in the blockhouse was making it appear that there was overheating in a hydraulic unit on the Saturn, The count-down was held until the regulator was replaced. Later, when there were only five minutes to go and tension was building up, another “hold” was announced—a relay was giving trouble in a

radar unit at Grand Turk in ithe Bahama Islands downI range from the Cape. As this radar was vital for range safety requirements the countdown had to be recycled to T-13 minutes and held there. In a way, this was fortunate. At 10 a.m. the sky was fairly free of cloud above the Cape but when the second “hold" was announced there was enough cloud to badly spoil the view of the Saturn when it was above a few thousand feet. We waited anxiously for the count to resume and for the clouds to move away. A postponement of the launch would have been a bitter disappointment after getting so close. At 11.10 a.m. the count was resumed. The cloud was dispersing slowly and it was a contest between the cloud and the count-down. Everyone wanted the Saturn to fly because Hurricane Gladys was only 500 miles E.S.E. from the Cape and heading right for us. Automatic Control At T-3 minutes the ignition command button was pressed. From then onwards everything was under automatic control. As the count was relayed to us on the loudspeakers there was a hush as we watched. The cloud of vapour vanished as the vents were closed and the tanks pressurised. At minus three seconds twin jets of flame sprang from the two sides of the blast deflector, kicking up huge clouds of dust and smoke.

At zero the Saturn heaved off the pad as the hold-down clamps were released. It started climbing up past the umbilical tower in an eery silence until the sound of the ignition hit us like a clap of thunder. The ensuing roar was different from the sound conveyed by radio and film sound-track. I expected a noise rather like rolling thunder or the roar of a fleet of large jets taking off. The actual sound was more sporadic, like an unbroken artillery bombardment with frequent distinct detonations like a 4-inch gun being fired. I think that these accompanied the white flashes which were sporadically visible in the orange flame of the exhaust, but the time delay of the sound travel made it difficult to tell. However, I now agree that the expression “blasting into space” is very apt.

Into The Cloud Layer

As Saturn-7 climbed away, the over-all effect was tremendous. The sight and sound of the 500-ton rocket were almost unbelievable. It picked up speed very rapidly; and while it was still looming almost as large as it appeared on the pad, it was burning a hole in the first thin cloud layer. We followed it with

our gaze as it began io dwindle in size, the exhaust flame longer and more prominent than the rocket itself. Suddenly a broad white vapour trail appeared behind it. Then the Saturn was too high to see but the flame of the exhaust was plainly visible against the blue sky. even through thin patches of cloud. Shortly after it had accelerated past the speed of sound, and was tilting to the east in its trajectory, it disappeared from view behind a thick cloud. Almost 20 seconds later it reappeared in a clear patch of sky. The exhaust flame was still clearly visible and it left a thin white expanded trail — until suddenly, at T plus 140 seconds, it stopped: first stage burn-out. At that moment it was 65 miles away and travelling at 5500 miles an hour. A second or two later the second stage ignited and was visible as a small blue-white flame. Then I caught a flash of light just below it—probably a glint of sunlight from the tumbling Saturn first stage. Soon after, when the second stage and pay load were getting on for 100 miles away, 1 lost sight of it against the blue of the sky.

Seventh Success The crowd of watchers started melting away; but Bob and I stayed to listen to the announcements from the blockhouse. At T plus 10] minutes the second stage cut-off was announced and, quite clearly over the loudspeakers, we could hear the cheering from the launch crew in the blockhouse. Their seventh success—seven in a row and not a single failure! It was then announced that the empty second stage and the Apollo capsule payload were safely in orbit. After lunch Bob and I drove to Complex 34, which had been used for the first four Saturns. We entered the blockhouse through the giant blast-doors which protect the launch-crew if 500 tons of rocket should chance to fall on top of them. We peered through the periscopes towards Complex 37 and watched the clean-up squad commencing to clear away the mess and remove the huge steel hold-down clamps which are good for only a single launching because of the severe heat treatment they receive during lift-off. Only a short time earlier the range safety officer (with a “destruct” button at his fingertips) and the J. F. Kennedy Space Centre director, Dr. Kurt Debus, had stood at these two periscopes and watched the lift-off. We were very thankful that the range safety officer had no duty to perform that morning. The sight of such a beautiful rocket as the Saturn being blown apart would have been unforgettably horrifying.