For many astronauts, spacewalking is the ultimate aspiration, but only the elite qualify to do it. And Cady Coleman – who spent six months on the International Space Station in 2010 – is quick to point out that it’s nothing like Sandra Bullock’s glamorous portrayal in Gravity.
Coleman actually advised the actress on how to make her spacewalk believable in the film, during an intergalactic phone call from the ISS.
But in her new book, Sharing Space, she describes the painful process of donning bulky, unisex EVA (extraterrestrial activity) suits.
It became even more difficult when, in 2003, NASA decided to eliminate the smallest size, forcing him to perform critical operations wearing a suit in which he could ‘hula dance inside’.
“To be clear, at five-four, I’m not dramatically small, and my arms are only short compared to those of male astronauts,” she says. “But I had no choice but to adapt to the equipment that was available – and like many things, even in that day and age, the equipment was basically designed to accommodate men.
When she slips into her oversized EVA, Cady remembers that ‘one size fits all usually meant one size fits all’
Coleman advised Sandra Bullock on how to make her spacewalk believable in the movie Gravity, during an intergalactic phone call from the ISS.
‘One size fits all usually meant one size fits all’.
To understand why this was such a big deal, she explains that the EVA suit is unlike any other set of clothing.
“It’s challenging to operate inside, even if it fits perfectly, let alone if it’s too big. And remember, your ability to perform while inside that suit is literally a matter of life and death.’
The costume fitting process takes about an hour and can only be accomplished with the help of a team of costume technicians—NASA’s equivalent of Broadway dressers.
First comes the adult diaper. You might not need it, she says, but it’s an insurance policy just in case.
Next: the standard sports bra, “almost always shrunk beyond recognition in NASA’s industrial dryers.”
The next layer consists of long underwear, to absorb sweat and give the astronauts an extra layer of protection from the harsh edges of the suit.
“Now comes a very important piece of clothing – LCVG, short for Liquid Cooling and Ventilation Clothing. LCVG looks like a jumpsuit designed by a performance artist. Water tubes were woven through the fabric in all directions, like huge veins.
“When you’re sliding around in 300-pound spacesuits, your body heats up quickly, and your LCVG allows you to regulate your body temperature thanks to an adjustable but hard-to-reach handle on the front of your suit.”
Then extra padding is added: elbow pads, knee pads, three-inch-thick hip pads and a four-inch-thick crotch pad, followed by a strap to hold it all in place.
“I look nothing like Sandra Bullock in the movie Gravity, slipping into her spacesuit in little black shorts and a tank top before taking off into the stars; on the contrary, in LCVG, I resemble an unseemly Egyptian mummy that has just emerged from the grave after several thousand years.’
Only then can she wear the actual costume.
The costume fitting process takes about an hour and can only be accomplished with the help of a team of costume technicians—NASA’s equivalent of Broadway dressers.
“Squatting down and tilting my head and shoulders back, I slide up and inside the top, bringing the arms out first, followed by the head – like a turtle”
Finally, the helmet seals the deal—literally
“The last part comes first. With my dexterity already limited by the water tubes crushing my long underwear, I sink down on my butt and forward into the spacesuit bottom until my feet are inside the boots. Then, with a giant one-two-three, heave-ho, the technicians move me to my feet.
“At this point, the suit technicians add even more padding inside the bottom half of my suit, tucking it into the waistband. “Do not be shy!” I would tell them. “The more filling the better!”
“Hold steady by the brave suit technicians, I shuffle a few meters and ascend to a platform, where the top half of my spacesuit is clamped to the top of a brace. Crouching down and tilting my head and shoulders back, I slid up and into the top, sticking my arms out first, followed by my head—like a turtle.
“The technicians attach the top of the spacesuit to the bottom of the suit. They also put a communications cap over my head. It has a Rocky-and-Bullwinkle-meets-Amelia-Earhart leather look and lets me talk to Mission Control.’
The next garment to continue is the gloves.
“Each astronaut has his or her own protocol that includes clamshell stuffing and bandages. I slide my fingers inside the glove liners, making sure the seams are facing out, and thread each finger into the appropriate slot. The large handles come next, locking into place.’
Finally – the helmet seals the deal. Literally.
“If my nose is itchy for the next six hours, that’s too bad. I am now isolated from the outside world.’
“If my nose is itchy for the next six hours, that’s too bad. I am now isolated from the outside world’
Sandra Bullock makes it look so easy…
“I don’t look like Sandra Bullock in the movie ‘Gravity’ at all… more like an ugly Egyptian mummy that just came out of the grave.”
Work during a spacewalk usually focuses on fixing parts of the ISS that have broken: replacing a pump, repairing a cooling system, changing the direction of power or installing new solar array batteries.
During training sessions in a pool, they practice for six hours at a time — “but EVA is one of those experiences that requires so much focus that you don’t notice the time,” says Cady.
“I also don’t notice the discomfort of my suit once I’m in the water. I am intently focused on the task at hand. I’m reminding myself to relax any muscles that don’t need to be tensed, to conserve energy.’
At the end of the session, the astronaut is stripped of each layer of clothing in reverse, before running to the bathroom to relieve himself.
“I’m always surprised when I see myself in the mirror,” says Cady. My arms and legs are covered in red and purple bruises and scratches. Sometimes I bleed from where the suit and I struggled to get into a particularly tricky position.
“My fingers are raw from the mash inside the gloves and the nail beds are often bruised, occasionally leading to the loss of a nail. I’ve been so focused on the task at hand that I didn’t even notice until now.
At the end of the session, the astronaut is stripped of each layer of clothing in reverse, before running to the bathroom to relieve himself.
When NASA’s Artemis takes the first woman to walk on the moon, she’ll do so in a redesigned spacesuit.
“The bumps and bruises are a daily reminder that the average suit doesn’t fit me. Even with all that extra padding, I could still do a hula dance in that average costume. I have to strain to position myself in the front of my suit to grab anything, which makes it harder to reach tools on my mini-workstation and generally harder to do EVA tasks.
“I press my arms and torso into the sides and armholes whenever I try to reach things. Even with the filling, I’m a mess when I take it off.’
Fortunately, though, things have changed since Cady took her pioneering space trip, opening up the program — and spacewalking in particular — to a wider range of people.
“Over the past few years, we’ve seen many women perform spacewalks, and we’ve seen Christina Koch and Jessica Meir perform the first all-female spacewalk,” she says.
And… when NASA’s Artemis picks up the first woman to walk on the moon [in 2025]she will do so in a redesigned space suit.
“I hope it fits her like a glove.”
Sharing Space: An Astronaut’s Guide to Mission, Wonder, and Change by Cady Coleman is published by Penguin Life, July 2