Monday, Oct. 21, 1957

Sputnik's Week

The made-in-Russia satellite continued to circle the earth last week, apparently as steady in its orbit as the made-by-nature moon. Most details about it still came from Russia. Repeating the previously announced dimensions, diameter: 58cm. (22.8 in.); weight: 83.6kg. (184.3 Ibs.), Pravda described it as a sphere of aluminum alloys with a "polished and specially treated surtace" and four metal rods as antennae 2.4 to 2.9 meters (7.9 to 9.5 ft.) long. When the carrier rocket was fired, the rods were folded back against the sphere, but swung outward on swivels when the satellite reached its orbit. The sphere is filled with nitrogen gas, presumably to help it get rid of the heat developed by the electrical equipment. If the satellite is punctured by a meteor, the gas pressure will fall at a rate that could tell the size of the meteor hole.

According to Pravda, the satellite's launching rocket took off directly upward, and curved away from the vertical soon after firing. It had several stages, but Pravda, giving few details, said merely that when the carrier reached several hundred kilometers altitude and was moving parallel to the earth's surface at 8,000 meters per sec. (about 18,000 m.p.h.), the satellite proper was detached from its protective nose-cone and the burned-out rocket. The three objects separated slowly, following slightly different orbits.

Beep Code. The famed beeps have varied in length, frequency and spacing. These variations concealed in code the observations of the satellite's instruments. So far, only the Russians can have gained much scientific information from the satellite, but the rest of the world is beginning to catch up. Britain's 250-ft. radiotelescope at Jodrell Bank turned itself into an impromptu radar and pinpointed the satellite or its carrier rocket over Britain. As the slowly shifting orbit carried Sputnik over the east coast of the U.S., hundreds of early risers in New England saw the sunlit speck sweep across the predawn sky. Some saw two moving objects, the brighter of which was probably the carrier. Shot on film at Baltimore by WJZ-TV using a camera with a secret Bendix light amplifier, the spectacle was broadcast to the U.S. over Westinghouse TV stations.

Naked-eye observation is not of much use for plotting the satellite's orbit, but the Smithsonian's Astrophysical Observatory at Cambridge, Mass, got a few accurate reports from Moonwatch teams that were organized to observe the still-grounded U.S. satellite. These data, digested in 21 seconds by a big computer at M.I.T., gave a pretty good orbit for the satellite. It is elliptical, carrying Sputnik to an apogee (high point) 583 miles above the earth and bringing it down to its perigee (low point) 143 miles up. Since both these distances are added to the radius of the earth (3,960 miles), the orbit is almost a circle, and a good indication that the Russian launching vehicle was not only powerful but precisely controlled.

The Lower the Faster. As Sputnik entered its second week, there was no evidence that it was losing altitude, but its carrier seemed to be feeling the strain. The carrier is probably a large, empty cylinder with a lot of air resistance for its weight, so the thin air at orbit level takes more energy from it. But as the carrier loses energy to the air, it does not lose speed. It spirals down to a lower orbit and speeds up. The nearer an orbiting body is to the earth, the faster it must move. The earth's natural moon, for instance, moves on its distant orbit (240,000 miles from the earth) at only 2,355.2 m.p.h., which is one-seventh of low-flying Sputnik's speed.

Dr. Joseph A. Hynek of the Smithsonian Observatory estimated that after the first week the carrier had descended about ten miles from the apogee of its original orbit and increased its speed by about 20 m.p.h. This put it far ahead of the satellite proper, and made it spiral lower. There it could be getting hot from air friction, but it would probably last for at least two more weeks. Until Sputnik itself shows signs of dropping or speeding up, its date of fiery death cannot be predicted. Dr. John P. Hagen, chief of the U.S. satellite program, thinks that Sputnik will stay up there for more than a year.

High-powered telescopic cameras soon to go into operation will pinpoint the flying satellite within a few feet of distance and a few milliseconds of time. Then its orbit can be tracked with enough precision to observe the effect of variations in the earth's gravitation. The satellite's radio signals (even without the key of the code) will be useful in studying the electrified layers in the upper atmosphere. Non-Russian scientists may even learn a little about the density of the air at orbit altitude, by clocking how fast the satellite loses energy.

"Americans Love Cars." Most U.S. scientists were in a congratulatory mood, but they could not find individual Russians to congratulate for the success of Project Sputnik. The Soviet government gave out no names, announcing merely that a large number of scientists, engineers and industrial workers did the job.

At last week's international conference at Barcelona on space flight, three Russian delegates were the heroes. Their leader, portly, amiable Leonid I. Sedov, 50, was credited in the non-Russian press as being the father of the Soviet satellite. He is an expert on hydrodynamics and gas dynamics, and has a resounding title (head of the Natural Sciences Department of the Scientific and Technical Council of the U.S.S.R. Ministry of Education). But there is no real evidence that he is an outstanding satellite scientist. He is known as "the best-dressed Russian scientist," and he has traveled regularly in the outside-Russia world. Earlier this year, he made himself slightly conspicuous cavorting in a Manhattan nightclub. At Barcelona last week he basked in his nation's glory and shot off his mouth. "You Americans," he beamingly told a U.S. scientist, "have a better standard of living than we have. But the American loves his car, his refrigerator, his house. He does not, as the Russians do, love his country."

With Sedov at Barcelona were two Russian women scientists. Astronomer Alia Masevich, 25, head of the Russian satellite-tracking stations, is the moonfaced girl genius of Russian science. She is married to a professor of mathematics, and has a daughter, 4. She is a staunch Communist Party member and is reputed to frown on Sedov's grandfatherly Gemiit-lichkeit. With her is Cosmic Ray Expert Lydia Kurnasova, about 45, who looks like Eve Curie. Her husband, a Russian sportsman, was killed in a car crash several years ago. Her hobby, she says, "is looking at beautiful things."

Scientist Masevich loosened up a little, telling how the authorities pulled a surprise test on her tracking system. The Soviet air force sent a jet plane flying high with only one dim navigation light, making like a Sputnik. The Soviet Moon-watch picked it up successfully, and four days later the real Sputnik took to space.

At the last day of the Barcelona conference, Sedov announced that he had known before he left Russia that the Sputnik, a crash program, was about to be launched. He also predicted that the Russians would "soon" send a rocket to the moon.

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