Radio Signals from Saturn

This is the recording of radio signals from Saturn close to a billion miles from earth. The signals are thought to be generated by high energy winds and other natural atmospheric phenomenon. And yet it is so eerie and realistic sounding that it could also be the soundtrack form a space horror movie! This will DEFINITELY make the hair stand up on the back of your neck!

The Great Adventure of Discovery

Yesterday afternoon, the Space Shuttle Discovery slipped the surly bonds of earth as I watched from a dock on the Indian River, several miles away. It was a bittersweet moment. I have spent many hours in and around Discovery. I know her every nook and cranny very well, inside and out. I know her smell, her feel. I have sat in her commander’s and pilot’s chairs as well as all the others. I have been inside her payload bay and even stood beneath her three giant engine bells aft. I have looked under her front forward reaction and control rockets hood and peered at the ordered cables behind her electrical panels. I know how she lights up inside in the powered up mode and in the powered down mode. I can still hear her sounds. I consider her a good friend. Yesterday afternoon, my good friend departed on her last great adventure – the very reason for which she was built. But no more.

But, as I have given it much thought, I realized that such thinking is really only wasted sentimentality. Discovery is not a breathing sentient entity – but it is after all just like my boyhood tree house back in Oklahoma – she is the embodiment of an idea fleshed out by the hands of men. My tree house is long gone, but I still hold the secrets we shared together in my heart. I think about it often and what it whispered to me all those years ago. And the idea that framed Discovery’s form is just as wonderful!

Discovery represents... well... discovery! She is designed the from of a notion that mankind has this innate, built in need to discover all that is beyond him. It is a genetic imperative that we seek and explore and discover that which is out of our reach. Historically speaking it drove us out of caves and into straw huts and then into steel skyscrapers and finally into structures orbiting our planet and under the sea. Discovery is an idea that will not end with her mission. Discovery is right now being reborn in the facilities of the League of the New Worlds and her latest incarnation is called the New Worlds Explorer and Leviathan. There are others as well. One is called Spaceship Two and another Dragon.

We are but tiny creatures in the larger scheme of things. But we are tiny creatures with a long reach indeed. I just watched images beamed back from Mars just yesterday, and another set of pictures from Saturn and Titan and a comet. Discovery is about to rack up another 720,000 miles on her odometer during this day alone and before she returns home - 8 million more.

Discovery represents a dream. But more than that, she represents our future – she is the beautiful and powerful embodiment of an idea that has been responsible for humanity’s great journey and will be responsible for all the rest to come. I am so honored to have been a part of her dream of having spent so much time inside her and of having been called to live out yet another taking shape each and every day before my eyes. We may weep and cry over what politicians and lawyers are doing or not doing – but on this very day, my fellow humans are ignoring them and planning and building for yet another day of exploration.

On such a day, it would dishonor Discovery to be sad, when there is so much discovery just ahead.

Dennis Chamberland

The Bright Yellow Asterisk - A Personal Recollection of the Challenger Disaster

January – 1988. I stood alone 167 feet above the launch pad’s surface. I was staring into the open, small, white room. At the other end was an open doorway and beyond it was the blue expanse of the Atlantic Ocean. Between me and that 167 foot drop, the safety team had installed a heavy yellow canvas asterisk – a series of straps arranged in the form of a complicated series of crosses that kept anyone here from falling down to the concrete surface of the pad so far below. I just stood there staring at the open door, the bright ocean beyond and the yellow asterisk barrier that was so symbolic. For the last seven humans that had walked through that open door just one year before had never returned.

As I stared through that door, there were so many memories that flooded back to me. On that morning just a year before, I sat at home with my daughter Katy, watching the Challenger’s fateful final mission unfold on CNN. My daughter was one year and five days old on that unusually bitterly cold morning. I had watched the NASA Astronauts in that same white room where I now stood entering the Challenger spaceship: Commander Francis R. (Dick) Scobee, Pilot Michael J. Smith, Mission specialists Ronald E. McNair, Ellison S. Onizuka and Judith A. Resnik, Payload specialists Gregory B. Jarvis and Christa McAuliffe, who was to have been the first teacher in space and was chosen from more than 11,000 applicants.

I watched as they closed the hatch, as the room was swung away from the ship. I watched the countdown and the liftoff and the whole unthinkable nightmare that ensued. As I held my sleeping daughter tightly in my arms, I saw the ugly cloud engulf the Challenger, the sinuous hydra of the rockets breaking free and snaking around one another in the dark blue sky. And all of that was followed by the sickening telescopic camera playing about the blue sky flecked with white clouds. I cannot forget the cameras following the secret command embedded inside each of our brains searching the distant sky for the sign of the great ship that must somehow come out of those clouds and return safely to base. It was just not possible that they would not return home. It was NASA who built it, NASA who launched it – the very best and the very brightest cadre of men and women on the planet to whom failure was not an option. But then the long lenses on the cameras began to show the ocean surface miles offshore and there the splashes began to hit the frothing water. One after another – huge splashes. It was getting ready to skink in – the unthinkable...

And then the image of Christa McAuliffe’s mother sitting in the bleachers replaced the pictures from the distant ocean impact zone. I will never forget the image of her face. The anguish on her face told the story – the entire story – all of it. What we had all just witnessed together was just not possible. It could not happen. Not here. Not at this place. Not at this time. Not with this special crew. And yet, it did. And as I saw her face and held my own daughter in my arms, I wept deeply and bitterly. I wept for all the trauma of that horrible disaster I had just witnessed live before my eyes. I wept for Christa and her mom, and the rest of crew and all their families. I wept for America and for the dream.

A year later, as I stood there in that white room, I remembered all that and my eyes clouded with tears again. For as I stared at that door at the end of that tiny white room, I knew that this was a sacred place, a hallowed place. And that at the end, the last explorers who crossed that barrier would never come home again.

Today, now a quarter of a century later, nearly 700 men and women have walked across that threshold and stepped out into the black unknown. Ultimately, seven more did not return. That doorway with its yellow asterisk barrier is an image that has been permanently burned in my memory. For that doorway represents everything to me – it is the doorway into human exploration and one does not cross its barrier lightly. Because it does not matter how prepared one is, or how much training one has or how much one trusts the system or how thoroughly one knows and understands the probabilities – there is always the carless moment, or the second of inattention or the sheer blind hand of fate in a complex system supervised by ten thousand eyes. The bright yellow asterisk is the reminder that whomever it is that crosses the threshold and steps into the unknown is an explorer who fully understands that there is always a chance that they will not come home again. Stepping through that doorway is an honor and it is a privilege reserved for only a few but it comes with a heavy price. It always has and it always will. In the end, it is the perfect fool who steps outward who does not understand this price and who is not willing to pay that for which the check could come due at the most unexpected moment.

And so today, I honor my fellow explorers – the crew of the Space Shuttle Challenger’s final mission and as well the memory of all those who have not returned from each of their missions. And today I also honor the deepest expectation of them and all the others who have not returned home again. That it is the most important duty of those who have been called to explore, not to shrink back but in fact, as we remember those who have paid the final price for the ultimate human endeavor, to honor them with our redoubled efforts to push ever outward and beyond. We must continue to push ever forward, to step around the bright yellow asterisk into those secret, dark and forbidding places that once conquered will be the cradles homes for the new generation of humans and the launch pad for their generation of dreams and dreamers.

Only Two Men

12 men have walked on the lunar surface. But only two have descended to the ocean’s deepest point. Shown here are Don Walsh and Jacques Piccard on their January 23, 1960 mission to the bottom of the Marianas Trench in the western Pacific. The temperature outside sat at freezing. The light was lost at around 500 feet, some seven miles above them and the pressure on the capsule in which there were riding was 354 million pounds. They exceeded the capability by more than 12 times the rated max depth of the most advanced 21st century military submarine.

The Unexpected Human Future

The future of humanity is not what we have come to know with our limited understanding of what we think of as reality. This generation is about to step out permanently into frontiers that were until now the fuzzy domain of science fiction writers and dreamers. But not much longer now and we will burst through barries in quick succession that will define a new reality of human thought, enterprise and human dominion.

ATLANTICA EXPEDITIONS VIDEO PODCAST CATALOGUE

The Atlantica Expeditions will be producing weekly video Podcasts beginning in late September or early October. The Atlantica Expeditions podcasts can be subscribed to on Youtube or iTunes/Apple Store. All of these will be available as a link from our Atlantica Expeditions website (UnderseaColony.com), Facebook link or on all our Blogs – Discovery Enterprise, QuantumLimit.com or Undersea Colonies. Here is the upcoming Podcast catalogue: Moonpools, Oxygen , CO2, Oxygen and CO2, Transfer Cases, Food and Making Dinner, The Undersea Bathroom, Lights, Power, Excursions, Sleeping, Communications, Communicating In the Water, Undersea Weather, Day and Night, Sleeping Underwater, The Bends, Sharks and Dangerous FIsh, Territorial Fish, A Paperless Society, Resource Recovery, Exercising Undersea, What To Do With The Trash?, Habitat Air Conditioning, The Microscopic World.

Bringing The Pets Along to Live Undersea

When mankind enters the undersea world to stay permanently, he will not go alone! As a a matter of fact, when the Chamberland family (Dennis and Claudia) go to spend a record 90 days in 2012, we will be bringing along our cat, Snickers, to spend the 90 days with us. And how will we get her down? Well – I am building her very own cat submarine. But – just in case you think that’s quite novel – it is not a first! Check this video out and see not only an underwater cat in SCUBA, but an undersea dog as well!

Counting the Days

We are counting the days until Claudia and I can move to our new home undersea. I long for the slow dawn that only come with awakening under the surface and the sounds of the life support system always humming in the background.

Raising an Undersea Family

Shown here is a photo of our son Eric Milton Chamberland literally departing the land to live for a day undersea. It was the day before he became certified as an aquanaut, living for more than 24 hours in a habitat in Aquatica – the great global ocean. Eric, our other children and their parents found out first hand what it was like to live as a family undersea. Although the habitat was not large enough to accommodate us all, while their parents were doing their research in the ocean, the children were still always connected. In some cases by radio and in others by frequent visits to the habitat bringing mom and dad meals, taking away their trash and just visiting.

It was not an uncommon site to see Claudia sitting in the moonpool tutoring a math problem or giving specific homeschooling instructions. On another occasion, one of the children’s SCUBA instructor sat our son Brett down on the front of the habitat and gave him his final underwater exam – just two feet from where we sat in comfort observing him, having a snack and watching the entire event. It may be the first time parents have enjoyed such a close up and comfortable view of their child being certified as an open water diver – while being in the same element with them!

On their frequent visits to the habitat, their mother Claudia would greet the children at the moonpool and then visit with them. At the end of their visit, she invariably would kiss their salty foreheads goodbye and bid them off with an undersea mom’s loving send off: “Exhale, exhale, exhale…” It’s meaning was unique among mothers on earth. Its meaning was, “Do not hold your breath while returning to the surface, it is dangerous.” While other mothers are warning their children to look both ways before crossing the street, our children’s mother invoked a similar warning, but altogether unique to families who live undersea.

Around our habitat lives a rather hostile looking four foot barracuda. While Fred (the name he was given by the local divers) never seemed to threaten or bite anyone, he was still a rather intimidating stray fish with sporting an absolutely evil looking row of razor sharp teeth. On several occasions Fred would orbit around the habitat and curiously peek inside at us. When they children were around, I would warn them by a hand sigh out the window – with the fingers of both hands together mimicking Fred’s teeth. It at least warned them to look out for Fred, although the worst damage he probably would have induced is causing someone to hurt themselves by trying to get out of his way. But hand signals out the windows to the children were essential when the sound of the voice was strictly confined to the walls of the habitat. Of course there were many other hand signals from ‘shark’ to ‘go back to the surface’ to ‘come inside’ to ‘watch your air pressure’ and ‘you’re getting cold – come inside’.

Families living under the sea will soon become a reality again. While our family may have been the first that we are aware of, and only for a painfully short period of time in 1997 and 1998 - others are sure to follow. And of the Atlantica Expeditions gets its way it will be very soon indeed. But this time, the expedition is never scheduled to end and the trips to the surface will be far less than the trips around the magnificent, crystal void of humankind’s new permanent dwelling place: Atlantica.

Diving With Sharks

When we were in Hawaii recently, a friend shared the details of his relatively recent shark attack. (Please do not reveal his name on replies if you guys know him. He has asked for privacy.) It was totally horrific - he came within inches of death and was hospitalized for over a month. Within an hour of his story we were in the ocean diving with him.

I took my first night dive in the ocean off Honolulu an hour after I saw JAWS for the first time in 1976. I was a younger man then and impulsive and was definitely looking around for the great beasts. But this weekend, diving alongside a man who was seriously attacked, it was a wholly different story. I am not as young as I was and not so much impulsive. The dive in broad daylight was far more intense than the night dive off Waikiki beach. I have been diving in this very spot for hundreds of hours and knew that this was definitely NOT a haven for sharks, but having just heard his story I was definitely looking around.

I know the statistics for shark attacks is lower than being struck by lightning – UNLESS – you live in Florida, that is. And nearly all shark attacks occur in water you can stand up in and most bites are relatively minor leg and ankle bites (ie – surfing injuries). But I also remember the photo that some of my environmental management colleagues took from the air off launch pad 39A. There were countless sharks in the photograph – about one shark every 50 feet or so.

Not all sharks are killers and man-eaters. But all sharks have to eat. They are not known for their intelligence and probably have no idea what a man is, much less swim around and dream up plots against him. But when man encounters shark – it is entirely up to the shark to do whatever he – or they – are going to do.

The shark has very sensitive sensors on its nose. It can detect activity in the water long before it sees its prey and far in advance of the prey seeing the shark. The good news is that sharks apparently do not like the taste of humans. That is why my friend was not killed.

Swimming off the Honolulu Boat Harbor about half a mile out, the shark just ‘tasted’ him and left. In a single instant, the shark clung to his abdomen with its rear teeth. Held him with the back teeth and then took two severing bites with its top teeth in less than half a second. He felt no pain. He thought he had collided with a log. He stood upright in the water and reached his hand out for the ‘log’ and felt the nose of a huge shark. It was at that moment that he saw the ocean around him was ‘purple’. The he felt the huge flap of skin that used to be on his back fold around his arm. The shark turned and left. But he was a half mile out in the ocean bleeding profusely with half his back hanging loose in the water. It was nothing less than a miracle that he survived, and one key part of the miracle is that he apparently didn’t taste very good to the great beast.

As we look forward to longer periods in the water, the site we have selected for the Atlantica I expeditions is also a breeding site for the Bull shark – one of the most aggressive sharks in the world. We will definitely seek more training on diving in those waters from shark experts and diving in and around the habitat will be done with special attention to the activities and behavior characteristics of the rather mean-spirited Bull shark.

Having said all that, we also recognize that our activities are in its waters where it has lived for countless millennia. We are the observers, not the conquerors. We are the scientists there to observe it in its element and we are most definitely not there to remove or injure a single shark. If anything, we wish to study them and count them and understand how the activities of man are encroaching on their habitat. In so doing, we hope to make life easier on them and thereby encourage them to achieve their ultimate balance in the aquatic realm where we have presumed to join them.