Well, it's a fine day here at the Lawnview Apartment Space Center in historic Dayton, OH. We're in a a nominal countdown to exiting our planned hold at 1200 local time, 1600 UTC. The update has undergone final proofing checks at T-1 hour, and final post preparations are underway including this introduction.
I'm looking forward to getting things rolling again, and I'm hoping it'll all live up to the standards people have come to expect.
A few notes: First, I'd like to thank Brainbin for the guest posts he's contributed to both Part I and to Part II, and I'd also like to thank the readers and commentators on this thread for their assistance in making it what it is--several things in the TL owe their existence to reader feedback, and of course it's helped us focus on areas readers are interested in. I'll remind people that the wiki page (linked in my sig) contains a full list of all Part 1 posts, and some links to mission lists and vehicle specs (still a bit of a work in progress). With that aside, I'll just leave it to the update. This week: Eyes returns with a focus on Japan. Stand by...and we're go at startup!
Eyes Turned Skyward Part II, Post 1
With the advent of the Block III+ version of the Apollo capsule came new opportunities for NASA. While introduced in part due to pressure from the ESA over the small number of seats they were getting under the Spacelab/European Research Module program, it quickly became obvious that more than just placating European opinion was possible with the new design. Since the beginning of continuous habitation, "rotation" flights--that is, flights which carried a new team of astronauts up to replace a veteran crew--would launch a week or two in advance of their predecessor crew landing in order to get "hands-on" training and allow acclimatization to zero-g conditions without the stress of having to begin full-scale work immediately. However, this allowed an interesting opportunity, as astronauts launched with one crew do not necessarily have to land with another. Thus, a member of the old crew could stay aloft, gaining additional duration in space, while a member of the new crew could land with the older crew, experiencing a short duration flight of only a week or two. As the Soviets pressed forwards with duration records and space was increasingly seen again as a competitive field, this had the attraction of both allowing a US response and allowing the flight of less trained or experienced astronauts than the US and ESA programs had turned out, such as citizens of non-NATO allies or, perhaps, certain citizens of the US who would not normally be considered astronauts.
The State Department was the first to grasp the possible value of the program. While NASA had already started planning extra-long individual duration missions, they had not, understandably, thought of the potential diplomatic and propaganda value of launching people for short-term visits to Spacelab. The flight of Ulf Merbold and, earlier still, ASTP I and II had demonstrated to the State Department the possible value of space flights in diplomatic relations. While never a critical factor in even the most complex negotiation, the offer of a seat for a citizen of some country the US was negotiating with fit well into a long-standing language of compromises, concessions, and gifts, as a small additional tool in the State Department's belt. The first country to benefit from the soon-to-be-named Spaceflight Participation Program was Japan. At the time, Japan was becoming increasingly involved in Spacelab research, and there was a certain degree of feeling among Japanese researchers that a Japanese scientist ought to be launched to oversee their experiments or participate in Spacelab's research activity. Simultaneously, this was the beginning of the Japanese bubble, and Japanese industry was just beginning to be portrayed as the "next big thing" in the US, with attention increasingly being called to the lack of free trade between the two countries. NASA had already begun talks with NASDA about the possibility of a Japanese flight to the station when State Department negotiators, involved in ongoing discussions with Japan about the trade of advanced technologies in relation to the ongoing F-15J fighter project, offered to trade seats on several Spacelab flights in exchange for Japan giving up on the transfer of a few particularly sensitive technologies. Their Japanese counterparts, seeing that they were getting most of what they wanted plus an unexpected sweetener, agreed to the deal. This 1980 agreement marked the effective beginning of what would eventually become the Spaceflight Participation Program.
At the time, however, it was simply an unexpected acceleration on an already-fomenting plan to launch Japanese astronauts to Spacelab. In the agreed-on plan, Japan would have the opportunity to fly three astronauts to Spacelab, beginning with a short stay during a rotation overlap period tentatively marked for 1982. To prepare for this event, only two years in the future, Japan began an immediate program examining candidates to select their first class of astronauts. Over the next year, a pool of thousands of applicants was trimmed down to three, who then spent another 6 months in intensive training alongside NASA astronauts in Houston. Based on this final training, Japanese researcher Katsuyama Hideki was selected to fly in the “short stay” opportunity created by F. Story Musgrave’s double-rotation stay on Spacelab, overlapping from the September 1981 Spacelab 13 mission into the Spacelab 14 mission. The veteran space doctor had been selected to be the first extended duration astronaut on Spacelab, judged to be the most able to assess his overall condition as the mission went on. The flight went well overall, with Hideki spending the slightly-extended 10-day handover period checking Japanese experiment packages already in place on the station, setting up several additional packages for later Japanese astronauts, conducting press events with native Japanese media, and taking several images of the Home Islands. However, reactions to the flight in the United States were mixed.
The State Department viewed the flight and indeed the entire Japanese cooperation program as a valuable tool in securing alliances with both NATO and non-NATO allies, and was interested in continuing the program. NASA, however, was more interested in the possibility of flying Americans such as journalists or teachers to conduct outreach (or, some suggested, perhaps even some of the politicians in whose hands NASA’s funding rested), and while it was glad for the participation of the Japanese and the groundwork set for future cooperation on such projects as the long-studied Spacelab follow-up stations, it was interested in preserving the few slots that would be made available by the long-duration flight program for these alternate uses. Many astronauts, on the other hand, viewed the entire program as something of a stunt--while many were excited about the potential of the long-duration flight research, they also saw the short-duration flight slots as something that should go to existing astronauts. This view was particularly common among American scientist-astronauts, who were particularly hurt by the loss of “fifth-seat” slots, less common among the pilots who were guaranteed two slots on flights, and almost non-existent among the European astronaut corps, whose flight prospects were unchanged by the program and as international partners themselves could understand better the value of cooperation and (more cynically) political maneuvering.
The end result was a program that functioned, but truly satisfied no one except the biomedical community. The establishment of the Spaceflight Participant Program in 1982 called for eight slots to be made available over the next 5 years via multi-rotation stays on-station, with the exact timing and arrangements to be determined in accordance with the needs of the long-duration exposure study program. Two slots would be reserved for the remaining Japanese astronauts in accordance with the existing agreements, NASA would retain authority for dispersing three to American “spaceflight participants,” and State would have the authority for allocating the remaining three to major US allies. While the program details were sorted out, Hideki returned to Japan as a national hero, a living symbol of Japan’s rising star, both economically and technologically. NASDA requested the loan of his capsule, much as the capsules used on the flights of early ESA astronauts had been placed on long-term loan to museums in their home nations. Discussions were complicated by the fact that Hideki had returned to Earth in a different capsule than he had launched in, but in the end the landing capsule was available for display sooner and was officially transferred to Japanese control among much celebration in late 1982.