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Earthrise: how the iconic image changed the world
Ian Sample Science editor
The Guardian24 December 2018
No one told them to look for the Earth. It was Christmas Eve 1968 and the first manned mission to the moon had reached its destination. As Apollo 8 slipped into lunar orbit the crew prepared to read passages of Genesis for a TV broadcast to the world. But as the command module came around on its fourth lap, there it was visible through the window – a bright blue and white bauble suspended in the black above the relentless grey of the moon.
Before that moment 50 years ago, no one had seen an earthrise. The sight sent Bill Anders, the mission photographer, scrambling for his camera. He slapped a 70mm colour roll into the Hasselblad, set the focus to infinity, and started shooting though the telephoto lens.
What he captured became one of the most influential images in history. A driving force of the environmental movement, the picture, which became known as Earthrise, showed the world as a singular, fragile, oasis.
On previous laps Anders had snapped the far side of the moon for the geologists and the near side of it for Apollo’s landing site planners. “It didn’t take long for the moon to become boring. It was like dirty beach sand,” Anders told the Guardian. “Then we suddenly saw this object called Earth. It was the only colour in the universe.”
Apollo 8 launched from the Kennedy Space Centre in Florida on 21 December 1968. The enormous Saturn V rocket, more than 110 metres tall, had flown only twice before and never with a crew. But on that day the rocket performed.
Tucked inside the command module, Anders, Frank Borman and James Lovell looped the planet twice before the third stage blasted them onwards to the moon. They arrived nearly three days later, completed 10 lunar orbits, and headed home for a splashdown in the north Pacific.
Earthrise did not have an immediate impact. Its philosophical significance sunk in over years, after Nasa put it on a stamp, and Time and Life magazine highlighted it as an era-defining image. “It gained this iconic status,” Anders said. “People realised that we lived on this fragile planet and that we needed to take care of it.”
The shot did more than boost the environmental movement. Even Anders, who calls himself “an arch cold war warrior”, felt it held a message for humanity. “This is the only home we have and yet we’re busy shooting at each other, threatening nuclear war, and wearing suicide vests,” he said. “It amazes me.”
The image changed his life more personally, too. “It really undercut my religious beliefs. The idea that things rotate around the pope and up there is a big supercomputer wondering whether Billy was a good boy yesterday? It doesn’t make any sense. I became a big buddy of [the scientist] Richard Dawkins.”
When the Apollo 8 mission splashed down on 27 December Anders thought it would not be long before tourists were gazing back on Earth from space hotels. “I thought that if I got a decent job and could make some money I could take my wife into orbit and view the beautiful planet we live on,” he said.
Fifty years later, commercial space hotels are still a distant dream. Anders says human space exploration went off track with the US space shuttle and the International Space Station. It was always a circular programme: the shuttle was built to fly to the station, and the station was built for the shuttle to fly to. But the shuttle did not live up to its billing as a cheap, reusable, space ferry.
“The shuttle ate Nasa whole but they never had the guts to cancel it,” he said. “It was like a cuckoo in the nest. It pushed out other good programmes to the point that when it finally died we had to hitch rides with the Russians to get back into space. That’s hardly something I would have considered in the process of beating the Soviets to the moon in 1968.” Anders says the space station, built for $150bn, has produced some interesting science but he thinks it was not worth the money.
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@Zibago @django @Mentee @Hamartia Antidote @KapitaanAli @RealNapster @Nilgiri @Moonlight @padamchen @Maarkhoor
Read especially the enlarged text.
Ian Sample Science editor
The Guardian24 December 2018
The Earth rises into view over the lunar horizon for the astronauts aboard Apollo 8 in 1968.Photograph: Corbis/Getty Images
No one told them to look for the Earth. It was Christmas Eve 1968 and the first manned mission to the moon had reached its destination. As Apollo 8 slipped into lunar orbit the crew prepared to read passages of Genesis for a TV broadcast to the world. But as the command module came around on its fourth lap, there it was visible through the window – a bright blue and white bauble suspended in the black above the relentless grey of the moon.
Before that moment 50 years ago, no one had seen an earthrise. The sight sent Bill Anders, the mission photographer, scrambling for his camera. He slapped a 70mm colour roll into the Hasselblad, set the focus to infinity, and started shooting though the telephoto lens.
What he captured became one of the most influential images in history. A driving force of the environmental movement, the picture, which became known as Earthrise, showed the world as a singular, fragile, oasis.
On previous laps Anders had snapped the far side of the moon for the geologists and the near side of it for Apollo’s landing site planners. “It didn’t take long for the moon to become boring. It was like dirty beach sand,” Anders told the Guardian. “Then we suddenly saw this object called Earth. It was the only colour in the universe.”
Apollo 8 launched from the Kennedy Space Centre in Florida on 21 December 1968. The enormous Saturn V rocket, more than 110 metres tall, had flown only twice before and never with a crew. But on that day the rocket performed.
An image of the planet taken by Apollo 17, on 7 December 1972, released by Nasa to celebrate Earth Day. Photograph: Nasa/Reuters
Tucked inside the command module, Anders, Frank Borman and James Lovell looped the planet twice before the third stage blasted them onwards to the moon. They arrived nearly three days later, completed 10 lunar orbits, and headed home for a splashdown in the north Pacific.
Earthrise did not have an immediate impact. Its philosophical significance sunk in over years, after Nasa put it on a stamp, and Time and Life magazine highlighted it as an era-defining image. “It gained this iconic status,” Anders said. “People realised that we lived on this fragile planet and that we needed to take care of it.”
The shot did more than boost the environmental movement. Even Anders, who calls himself “an arch cold war warrior”, felt it held a message for humanity. “This is the only home we have and yet we’re busy shooting at each other, threatening nuclear war, and wearing suicide vests,” he said. “It amazes me.”
The image changed his life more personally, too. “It really undercut my religious beliefs. The idea that things rotate around the pope and up there is a big supercomputer wondering whether Billy was a good boy yesterday? It doesn’t make any sense. I became a big buddy of [the scientist] Richard Dawkins.”
When the Apollo 8 mission splashed down on 27 December Anders thought it would not be long before tourists were gazing back on Earth from space hotels. “I thought that if I got a decent job and could make some money I could take my wife into orbit and view the beautiful planet we live on,” he said.
Fifty years later, commercial space hotels are still a distant dream. Anders says human space exploration went off track with the US space shuttle and the International Space Station. It was always a circular programme: the shuttle was built to fly to the station, and the station was built for the shuttle to fly to. But the shuttle did not live up to its billing as a cheap, reusable, space ferry.
“The shuttle ate Nasa whole but they never had the guts to cancel it,” he said. “It was like a cuckoo in the nest. It pushed out other good programmes to the point that when it finally died we had to hitch rides with the Russians to get back into space. That’s hardly something I would have considered in the process of beating the Soviets to the moon in 1968.” Anders says the space station, built for $150bn, has produced some interesting science but he thinks it was not worth the money.
---
@Zibago @django @Mentee @Hamartia Antidote @KapitaanAli @RealNapster @Nilgiri @Moonlight @padamchen @Maarkhoor
Read especially the enlarged text.
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