For many astronauts, spacewalking is the ultimate aspiration, but only the elite are qualified to do so. 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 performance in Gravity.
In fact, Coleman advised the actress on how to make her spacewalk believable in the film, during an intergalactic phone call from the ISS.
But in his new book, Sharing Space, he describes the painful process of wearing the bulky unisex EVA (extravehicular activity) suits.
It became even more unwieldy when, in 2003, NASA decided to eliminate the smaller size, forcing her to perform critical operations wearing a suit in which she could have “hula-hooped.”
“To be clear, I’m 5’7″ tall, so I’m not too short, and my arms are short only in comparison to the male astronauts,” she says. “But I had no choice but to adapt to the equipment that was available, and as with so many things, even back then, the equipment was basically designed to fit men.
When she puts on her oversized EVA, Cady remembers that “one size fits all” usually meant “one size fits all guys.”
Coleman advised Sandra Bullock on how to make her spacewalk in the film Gravity believable, during an intergalactic phone call from the ISS.
‘One size fits all usually meant one size fits all types.’
To understand why this was such a big deal, he explains that the EVA spacesuit is unlike any other set of clothing.
“It’s hard to work inside a suit, even if it fits perfectly, and even more so if it’s too big. And don’t forget that your ability to perform inside that suit is literally a matter of life or death.”
The process of putting on the suit takes about an hour and can only be accomplished with the help of a team of suit technicians, NASA’s equivalent of Broadway costumers.
First comes the adult diaper. You may not need it, she says, but it’s an insurance policy just in case.
Next up: a 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 astronauts an extra layer of cushioning from the hard edges of the suit.
‘Now comes a garment of fundamental importance: the LCVG, short for Liquid Cooling and Ventilation Garment. The LCVG looks like a jumpsuit designed by a performance artist. Water tubes were woven through the fabric in all directions, like oversized veins.
‘When you’re gliding around inside a 300-pound spacesuit, your body heats up quickly, and your LCVG allows you to regulate your body temperature thanks to an adjustable but hard-to-reach knob on the front of your suit.’
Additional padding is then added: elbow pads, knee pads, three-inch thick hip pads, and a four-inch thick crotch pad, followed by a girdle to keep it all in place.
“I look nothing like Sandra Bullock in Gravity, putting on her spacesuit with its little black shorts and tank top before launching off into the stars; rather, in LCVG, I look like a gangly Egyptian mummy who has just emerged from the tomb after several thousand years.”
Only then can you put on the actual spacesuit.
The process of putting on the suit takes about an hour and can only be accomplished with the help of a team of suit technicians, NASA’s equivalent of Broadway costumers.
‘I bend over and tilt my head and shoulders back, then slide up and in from the top, pulling my arms out first and then my head, like a turtle.’
Finally, the helmet seals the deal, literally.
‘The lower half comes first. With my dexterity already limited by the water tubes pressing down on my long underwear, I drop to my butt and move forward inside the lower part of the spacesuit until my feet are inside the boots. Then, with a gigantic one-two-three, up!, the technicians lift me up.
‘At this point, the suit technicians add even more padding inside the lower half of my suit, tucking it into the girdle. ‘Don’t be shy!’ I tell them. ‘The more padding, the better!’
‘The brave suit technicians hold me steady, and I crawl a few feet and climb onto a platform, where the top half of my spacesuit is attached to the top of a support. Crouching down and tilting my head and shoulders back, I slide up and into the top, pulling out first my arms and then my head, like a turtle.
“Technicians attach the top of the spacesuit to the bottom. They also place a communications cap on my head. It has a weathered look reminiscent of Rocky and Bullwinkle and Amelia Earhart and allows me to talk to Mission Control.”
The next item of clothing we will put on will be the gloves.
‘Each astronaut has his or her own protocol, which includes the use of moleskin pads and Band-Aids. I slide my fingers into the gloves, making sure the seams are facing outward, and interlock each finger into the appropriate slot. Next come the large gloves, which are secured in place.’
Finally, the helmet is the icing on the cake. Literally.
“If my nose itches for the next six hours, it will be a shame. I am now isolated from the outside world.”
“If my nose itches for the next six hours, it will be a shame. I am now isolated from the outside world.”
Sandra Bullock makes it look so easy…
“I don’t look anything like Sandra Bullock in Gravity… I look more like a gangly Egyptian mummy who just crawled out of the tomb.”
Work during a spacewalk typically focuses on fixing parts of the ISS that have broken: changing a pump, repairing a cooling system, rerouting power or installing new solar panel batteries.
During training sessions in a pool, they practice for six hours straight, “but EVA is one of those experiences that requires so much concentration that you don’t really notice the time,” Cady says.
“I also don’t notice the discomfort of my suit once I’m submerged. I’m focused on the task at hand. I remind myself to relax all the muscles that don’t need to be tense in order to conserve energy.”
At the end of the session, the astronaut is removed from each layer of clothing in reverse order, before running to the bathroom to relieve himself.
“I’m always surprised to see myself in the mirror,” Cady says. “My arms and legs are covered in red and purple bruises and scrapes. I sometimes bleed through my suit, and I had a hard time getting into a particularly awkward position.
“My fingers are raw from being crushed inside the gloves and my nails are often bruised, sometimes resulting in 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 removes each layer of clothing in reverse order, 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 medium suit really doesn’t fit me right. Even with all that extra padding, I could still hula dance in that medium suit. I have to strain to position myself in the front of my suit to grab anything, which makes it harder to reach tools at my mini workstation and generally harder to perform EVA tasks.
“When I reach for something, I crush my arms and torso against the sides and armholes. Even with the padding, I’m a mess when I take it off.”
Fortunately, however, things have changed since Cady made her pioneering trip to space, opening up the program – and spacewalks in particular – to a broader spectrum of people.
“In recent years, we have seen many women perform spacewalks and we witnessed Christina Koch and Jessica Meir perform the first all-female spacewalk,” she said.
‘And… when NASA’s Artemis spacecraft carries the first woman to walk on the Moon (in 2025), she will do so in a redesigned spacesuit.
“I hope it fits you like a glove.”
Sharing space:An Astronaut’s Guide to Mission, Wonder, and Change by Cady Coleman is published by Penguin Life, on July 2
