 The Apollo Command Module was purpose-built for its mission. It was designed to keep three astronauts alive for the two-week journey to the moon and back, all the way through re-entry and splashdown. But the splashdown part of the mission meant the Command Module had a secondary role to play, the role of a boat. In the Apollo era, spacecraft did indeed have to be tested for seaworthiness. Hello everyone, I'm Amy and welcome to The Vintage Space, my little corner of the Internet where we dig into all things mid-century that I'm fascinated by, and those things are often obscure and in space, or relating to space. The Apollo had to go through seaworthiness testing, might not come as a surprise, since missions of the era splashed down. But the extent of the seaworthiness testing is pretty interesting and highlights just how unglamorous spaceflight can be, so let's dive in. The Apollo Command Module was the mothership on Apollo missions. This was the spacecraft the astronauts were in at launch, it was their main living quarters, and the vehicle that provided guidance and navigation. For the bulk of the flight, it was powered by fuel cells in the cylindrical service module, and it could dock with the lunar module to allow astronauts to transfer into that dedicated lander before descending to the moon, then redock to reunite the crew. It was also the only part of the spacecraft stack that could survive the trip back through the Earth's atmosphere at the end of the mission. At this point, the service module was jettisoned, and it was powered by onboard batteries. With the help of parachutes, the Command Module would splash gently down into the ocean where recovery forces were waiting to collect the crew. The Apollo Command Module in short had to do a lot of things, and it also had a bit of a messy development. There were actually two versions built, the Block 1 and the Block 2, only the latter of which could support a lunar mission. I have a whole video about why the two versions were built right up here, and what the differences were. But for the moment, we're interested in a common feature between the two, and that's post-splashdown. The spacecraft was designed to land in a designated area in the ocean where recovery crews would be waiting. Each mission had a primary, secondary, and contingency landing zone such that there was good coverage for a variety of instances of off-target landings. I have a video about the recovery zones and manpower in each zone right up here. But even with multiple splashdown zones, there remained the chance for something catastrophic enough to happen such that the crew would land far from any recovery forces. NASA determined that, in this case, there were enough ships spread throughout the recovery zones that it would be no more than two days before one could reach the astronauts. So in an emergency, the Apollo command module, after keeping the crew alive for two weeks on a lunar mission, had to be able to serve as a boat for up to two days. Though needing this contingency was extremely unlikely, NASA still had to run the command module through the appropriate testing to make sure everyone involved knew what to do in the event of a delayed recovery. So Apollo went through seaworthiness testing. North American Aviation, the manufacturer behind the command module, built a total of 36 vehicles. A few were scrapped before completion, 19 were launched on actual missions, and the rest were designated test articles. In the case of Spacecraft 7, it was specifically built for post-splashdown qualification testing. It was a Block 1 version of the command module, which, at the time, was similar enough for the sake of recovery testing to the Block 2 that it didn't matter that this one couldn't go to the moon. The one big difference between this one and flight articles was that in place of the ablative heat shield, Spacecraft 7 had a mock heat shield made of cork. It was the testbed for technical elements of recovery, like the communications, location, power and ventilation systems. It was also the spacecraft that taught the astronauts egress procedures and what to do if they were stuck inside for two days after landing, which is where the 48-hour delayed recovery test comes in. The first such test started on Friday, September 30th, 1966, at 4 p.m., when conditions were perfect in the Gulf of Mexico. The water was rough enough to produce four-foot-high waves. Three volunteer astronaut stand-ins were strapped into their couches. They were Texas M. Ward, head of the Apollo egress training program, fellow Apollo astronaut trainer Louie DeWolf, and member of the Apollo Landing and Recovery Division, Harry Clancy. They knew sitting in for the test would give them a unique perspective on their work, but also didn't totally know what to expect as the hatch was closed and the spacecraft was lowered into the Gulf from the deck of the motor vessel retriever. The first part of the test was a check to make sure the spacecraft could right itself. Immediately, Spacecraft 7 was flipped upside down to its stable two or apex down position, meaning Ward, DeWolf and Clancy were hanging suspended from their harnesses. Then the spacecraft's two electric air compressors inflated the three uprighting bags at the spacecraft's apex, forcing the pointed end out of the water and flipping the command module to its stable one or apex up position. Now the faux astronauts got to lie more comfortably on their couches. After this first exercise came the duration test. Spacecraft 7 drifted south for the first 24 hours before starting to move parallel to the coast courtesy of a weather front that also generated waves as high as 12 feet. All the while the retriever was nearby keeping an eye on the spacecraft and talking to the crew at least once every hour to make sure they were okay. This first seaworthiness test ended on Sunday night. The crew celebrated with a shower, a shave and a steak dinner. Everyone agreed that the test had been an overall success. Though the crew had been a little uncomfortable at times, the spacecraft had weathered the rough waves and long float very well. In January of 1967, during a routine pre-launch test on the launchpad, a fire broke out in the Apollo 1 spacecraft, killing the crew and marking a significant setback for the Apollo program. A lot of things had to change with the Apollo command module in the wake of the fire, including adding a new, safer, unified hatch. Once again, my video on the two versions of the Apollo spacecraft talks in more detail about the changes made after the fire. The new hatch meant another round of post-flashdown qualification tests. Spacecraft 7 was sent back to the North American facility in Downey, California, retrofitted with the new unified hatch and rechristened spacecraft 7A. Then it was sent back to Houston for another delayed recovery test. The crew on the second two-day test in the Gulf of Mexico saw astronauts Jim Lovell, who flew on Apollo 8 and 13, Stu Russo of Apollo 14, and Charlie Duke, who would walk on the moon on Apollo 16 inside the spacecraft. The test, which ran from April 5th to 7th, 1968, followed the same schedule as the previous one. A check that the airbags could properly write the spacecraft from stable 2 to stable 1, then the rest of the 48 hours spent with the crew patiently waiting inside while bobbing around in the waves. The crew report was more or less the same this time around. There were a few minor communications problems, but on the whole it confirmed that with the new unified hatch, the Apollo command module was still seaworthy should recovery be delayed at the end of a mission. Seaworthy, though it might have been, none of the astronauts were keen on taking the Apollo spacecraft sailing. I met Jim Lovell years ago at an event at the San Diego Air and Space Museum, right after I originally researched the seaworthiness tests. I asked him about this experience, and I could tell he was surprised anyone knew about that element of his astronaut training. It was also the moment that kind of broke down his wall. He knew he was talking to someone who knew more about Apollo than just the big moments of Apollo 13. So I asked him about the test, and he looks at me, and kind of leans in and says in a quiet voice, you know, I was a sailor. He was in the Navy before joining NASA. And that thing was no fucking boat. I hope you guys enjoyed this little look back at a test no one ever talks about that was still nonetheless vital to getting Apollo to the moon. It's exactly the kind of weird history I love digging into for you guys. That is going to do it for me for today. I want to remind you guys that both my books fighting for space and Breaking the Chains of Gravity are available however you like to consume books. I've got links to both in the description. I also want to say a very special thank you to my Patreon supporters and YouTube members. Your guys continued support truly makes all the difference. I would not be able to keep making this content without each and every one of you, so thank you so much. Thank you guys for spending a little bit of your day with me and a very loud Pete, who I feel like you might have heard in the background because he would not start meowing today. Anyways, thank you guys for spending a little bit of your day with us and we'll see you next time.