For many astronauts, a spacewalk is a major aspiration, but only the elite qualify for 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 his new book, Sharing Space, he describes the painful process of wearing bulky unisex EVA (extravehicular activity) suits.
It was made even more impractical when, in 2003, NASA decided to remove the smallest size, forcing her to perform critical operations in a suit she could ‘hula dance in’.
“To be clear, I’m not dramatically short at five-four, and my arms are only short compared to male astronauts,” she says. “But I had no choice but to adapt to the equipment that was available – and like a lot of things, in that day and age, the equipment was basically designed to suit men.
Slipping on her oversized EVA, Cady reminds herself that “one size fits all” usually means one size fits all guys.
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 means one size fits all guys.”
To understand why this was such a big deal, she explains that the EVA suit is unlike any other set of clothing.
“It’s difficult to work inside even if it fits perfectly, let alone if it’s too big. And don’t forget that your ability to perform in the suit is literally a matter of life and death.”
The process of putting on the suit takes about an hour and can only be done with the help of a team of suit technicians – Broadway’s equivalent of NASA’s dresser.
The adult diaper comes first. You might not need it, he says, but it’s just in case.
Next: the standard sports bra, “almost always shriveled beyond recognition in NASA industrial dryers.”
Another layer is a long underwear that absorbs sweat and provides the astronauts with an extra layer of cushioning from the hard edges of the suit.
“Now comes a critically important piece of clothing – LCVG, short for Liquid Cooled and Ventilated Clothing. The LCVG looks like an artist designed jumpsuit. Tubes of water were woven through the fabric in every direction like oversized veins.
“Gliding around in a 300-pound spacesuit, your body heats up quickly, and your LCVG allows you to regulate your body temperature with an adjustable but hard-to-reach knob on the front of the suit.”
Then more padding is added: elbow pads, knee pads, three-inch-thick hip pads, and four-inch-thick crotch pads, followed by a belt to hold everything in place.
“I don’t look at all like Sandra Bullock in Gravity, who slipped into a spacesuit in her little black shorts and a tank top before blasting off to the stars; rather, in LCVG I resemble a clumsy Egyptian mummy that has just emerged from a tomb after several thousand years.’
Only then can he pull on the real space suit.
The process of putting on the suit takes about an hour and can only be done with the help of a team of suit technicians – NASA’s Broadway equivalent of dressers.
“I bend down and tilt my head and shoulders back, slide up and in, put my hands out first, then my head – like a turtle.”
Finally, the helmet seals the deal – literally
“First is the lower half. With my dexterity already limited by the water tubes that clung to my long underwear, I collapsed onto my ass and lunged forward into the bottom of the suit until my feet were in the boots. Then the technicians lifted me to my feet with a giant one-two-three, heave-ho.
“Right now the suit technicians are adding even more padding to the bottom half of my suit and stuffing it into the belt. “Do not be shy!” I would tell them. “The more stuffing the better!”
“Hold back by valiant techs in a spacesuit, I slide a few feet and step onto a platform where the top half of my spacesuit is attached to the top of a rack. I bent down and tilted my head and shoulders back, sliding up and in, putting my arms out first and then my head – like a turtle.
“The technicians attach the upper part of the space suit to the lower part of the space suit. They also put a communication cap on my head. It has a leather Rocky-and-Bullwinkle-setting-Amelia-Earhart look and allows me to talk to mission control.”
Gloves are another piece of clothing.
“Each astronaut has his own protocol involving moleskin pads and band-aids. I slide my fingers into the glove liners, making sure the seams are facing out, and weave each finger into the appropriate slot. Next comes the big gloves that snap into place.’
Finally – the helmet seals the deal. Literally.
“If my nose is itchy for the next six hours, that’s bad. I am now closed off from the outside world.’
“If my nose is itchy for the next six hours, that’s bad. I am now closed off from the outside world’
Sandra Bullock makes it look so easy…
“I look nothing like Sandra Bullock in Gravity… more like a clumsy Egyptian mummy that just emerged from a tomb.”
Work during a spacewalk usually focuses on repairing parts of the ISS that have broken down: replacing a pump, repairing the cooling system, redirecting power, or installing new solar panel batteries.
During pool sessions, they work out for six hours straight – “but EVA is one of those experiences that requires so much concentration that you don’t really notice the time,” says Cady.
“Also, I don’t notice the discomfort of my suit once I’m submerged. I focus intently on the task at hand. I remind myself to relax every muscle that doesn’t need to be tensed to maintain my energy.’
At the end of the session, the astronaut is freed from each layer of clothing upside down before sprinting to the bathroom to relieve himself.
“I’m always surprised when I see myself in the mirror,” Cady says. “My arms and legs are covered in red and purple bruises and abrasions. Sometimes I bleed from where the suit and I fought to get into a particularly tricky position.
“My fingers are crushed in the gloves and the nail beds are often bruised, which sometimes results in the loss of the nail. I was so focused on the task that I didn’t even notice until now.
At the end of the session, the astronaut is freed from each layer of clothing upside down before sprinting to the bathroom to relieve himself.
When NASA’s Artemis takes the first woman to walk on the moon, she does so in a redesigned spacesuit.
“The lumps and bruises remind me daily that the medium suit really doesn’t fit me. Even with all the extra padding, I could still hula dance in that medium suit. I have to strain to stand on the front of the suit to grab something, which makes it harder to reach the tools on my mini workstation and generally harder to do EVA tasks.
“I hold my arms and torso against my hips and armholes whenever I’m trying to reach things. Even with the pads I’m a mess when I take them off.’
Fortunately, however, things have changed since Cady made her pioneering journey into space, making the program – and spacewalks in particular – more accessible to a wider range of people.
“Over the past few years, we’ve seen several women do spacewalks, and we witnessed Christina Koch and Jessica Meir do the first all-female spacewalk,” she says.
“And… when NASA’s Artemis takes the first woman to walk on the moon. [in 2025]he does so in a redesigned space suit.
“I hope she likes it like a glove.”
Sharing Space: An Astronaut’s Guide to Mission, Wonder, and Change Cady Coleman publishes Penguin Life, July 2