Space Disasters & Daring Missions

OBOMEDIA ENTERTAINMENT

Space has swallowed careers, missions, and men whole, leaving behind bolts, checklists, and a few surviving voices who know exactly how close the silence came. This show digs through NASA archives, mission transcripts, and the quiet testimony of astronauts to rebuild what actually happened when the plan fell apart forty miles above Earth or a quarter million miles toward the Moon. Each episode is one complete, reconstructed story, told without a host standing between you and the record. A skull rides shotgun on Hubble's highest orbit. A 121-pound cap gets bolted onto a spacecraft that still won't reveal where it's leaking. A navigator with no instruments steers by starlight to bring Apollo 13 home. A surgeon performs emergency repairs on a live solar array with no operating room and no second attempt. These are not summaries — they are minute-by-minute accounts built from flight logs, radio chatter, and the private memories of the people who lived through space disasters that never made the headlines they deserved. The show moves through the full arc of American spaceflight: the astronauts denied their missions for reasons buried in politics, the men who crossed space three times and still never got their wings, the geologists who proved the Moon itself had lied about a mountain's identity. It is NASA history told through the human cost of ambition — the near-misses, the improvised fixes, the decisions made in seconds that took decades to fully explain. If you want space history that reads like a thriller because it actually was one, subscribe now. New episodes arrive weekly, each one a self-contained descent into a mission that almost didn't make it back.

  1. 11h ago

    The launch window shifted - a single date cost Hayabusa Mk II its flight

    A badly timed launch window and a single administrative decision put Hayabusa Mk II’s comet sample mission on the line - did they make it in time? The launch window shifted - a single date cost Hayabusa Mk II its flight In this episode, we follow the story of a proposed Japanese sample-return mission to dormant comet 4015 Wilson-Harrington and the decisions that stopped it before it was built. We trace the technical plans, international proposal process, and the single timing constraint that defined the mission’s fate - could a launch date decide whether pristine solar system chemistry ever reached Earth labs? Person: Japan Aerospace Exploration Agency engineers Object: 4015 Wilson-Harrington (1979 VA) Mission: Hayabusa Mk II / Marco Polo proposal Date: Launch window 2018; ESA selection decision February 2010; joint proposal submitted June 2007, assessment November 2007 Scientists: more than 400 worldwide - Engineers designed Hayabusa Mk II as a generational redesign with a larger sample-return capsule and more capable ion engines tailored for a comet surface. - Wilson-Harrington is a dormant comet whose insulated nucleus could preserve 4.6 billion-year-old molecular chemistry and complex organics. - JAXA partnered with ESA to submit the Marco Polo proposal to Cosmic Vision 2015-2025 and cleared formal assessment in November 2007. - The mission’s 2018 launch window was fixed by trajectory calculations, planetary alignments, and engineering timelines documented in hundreds of pages. - ESA’s Science Programme Committee made its selections in February 2010, a single administrative decision that intersected with Hayabusa Mk II’s critical timing. To listen to this podcast ad-free and access premium episodes, try our subscription with a 14-day free trial at obomedia.com. © 2026 OBOMEDIA. All rights reserved. This episode and its content (audio, text, and related materials) are the exclusive property of OBOMEDIA and are protected by applicable copyright laws. Reproduction, distribution, editing, or commercial use, in whole or in part, without prior written permission from OBOMEDIA is prohibited. For permissions, licensing, and business inquiries: business@obomedia.com.

    The launch window shifted - a single date cost Hayabusa Mk II its flight
  2. 1d ago

    The 23-Minute Spacewalk That Shouldn't Have Ended

    Aboard Gemini Four, astronaut Edward White floats free above Earth with a tether-can he get back inside before the hatch and time betray him? The 23-Minute Spacewalk That Shouldn't Have Ended In this episode, we follow the sequence of events during Gemini Four's attempt at America's first extravehicular activity and the technical and human choices that defined it. The narrative focuses on the mission's problems in orbit, the stubborn hatch, and the precarious return that turned a celebrated photograph into something more complicated. Person: Edward White Person: James McDivitt Date: June 3, 1965 Event: Gemini Four extravehicular activity Problem: Hatch resistance and maneuvering failures - McDivitt considered postponing the spacewalk because White appeared warm and fatigued before the EVA. - A failed rendezvous with the spent Titan stage drained fuel and altered mission priorities early on. - The exterior hatch resisted opening, requiring three minutes of effort from both astronauts before it finally swung free. - White exited with a handheld maneuvering unit and a tether; the gun later ran out of propellant during the EVA. - After White re-entered, a twenty-minute closing sequence unfolded that escalated the mission's danger during reentry preparations. To listen to this podcast ad-free and access premium episodes, try our subscription with a 14-day free trial at obomedia.com. © 2026 OBOMEDIA. All rights reserved. This episode and its content (audio, text, and related materials) are the exclusive property of OBOMEDIA and are protected by applicable copyright laws. Reproduction, distribution, editing, or commercial use, in whole or in part, without prior written permission from OBOMEDIA is prohibited. For permissions, licensing, and business inquiries: business@obomedia.com.

    The 23-Minute Spacewalk That Shouldn't Have Ended
  3. 2d ago

    The Go board that marked a deadline - and forced him to stay in orbit

    A Japanese engineer brings a Go board into orbit as a deliberate marker while Endeavour circles Earth-will his plan secure a longer stay in space? The Go board that marked a deadline - and forced him to stay in orbit In this episode, we follow Koichi Wakata from his first shuttle mission through the moments when a simple, approved Go board became a deliberate statement of intent in orbit. The episode traces the decisions, missions and engineering choices that set the path for his long career in space and asks how one small gesture can shape a lifetime of missions. Person: Koichi Wakata Date: January 9, 1996 Location: Space Shuttle Endeavour middeck, 270 miles above the Pacific Event: STS-72 Go Space game aboard shuttle; later STS-92 and STS-119 missions Topic: deliberate mission planning linking cultural gesture to long-term astronaut career - He packed a specially designed microgravity Go set, approved and manifested for STS-72, before his first spaceflight. - At 32, a structural engineer and JAL stress analyst, Wakata used the Go board as a planned cultural statement, not a pastime. - On STS-92 in 2000 he operated the robotic arm to install the Z1 truss and PMA-3, performing hands-on ISS assembly work. - The Z1 truss he helped install remains a load-bearing part of the station, connecting his engineering work to long-term infrastructure. - On STS-119 in 2009 he stayed aboard the ISS when the shuttle undocked, shifting from shuttle crew to long-duration station presence. To listen to this podcast ad-free and access premium episodes, try our subscription with a 14-day free trial at obomedia.com. © 2026 OBOMEDIA. All rights reserved. This episode and its content (audio, text, and related materials) are the exclusive property of OBOMEDIA and are protected by applicable copyright laws. Reproduction, distribution, editing, or commercial use, in whole or in part, without prior written permission from OBOMEDIA is prohibited. For permissions, licensing, and business inquiries: business@obomedia.com.

    The Go board that marked a deadline - and forced him to stay in orbit
  4. 3d ago

    The bag's pepper spray ate Colleen's eyes - did she make the bus?

    A NASA astronaut in a tan trench coat boards an Orlando shuttle at 3:28 AM with a bag full of weapons and pepper spray - did she make the bus? The bag's pepper spray ate Colleen's eyes - did she make the bus? In this episode, we follow the hours and decisions leading up to a pre-dawn confrontation at Orlando International Airport. It covers what the astronaut packed, the distances she drove, and the personal losses and relationships that preceded that night - what drove her to prepare this way? Person: Lisa Nowak Date: February 5, 2007 Location: Orlando International Airport shuttle bus Event: Confrontation involving pepper spray and a bag of weapons Mission: STS-121 aboard Discovery - She drove roughly nine hundred miles to be on that shuttle bus at 3:28 AM, arriving with a tan trench coat and a black wig. - Her bag contained a BB pistol, ammunition, an eight-inch folding knife, a drilling hammer, latex gloves, large amounts of pepper spray, cash and foreign currency, and unidentified orange pills. - Seven months earlier she operated the shuttle and ISS robotic arms on STS-121, carrying personal items including her grandmother’s engagement ring into orbit. - Years earlier she served as casualty assistance officer for Laurel Clark after the Columbia disaster, working twelve to fourteen hour days while grieving. - In January 2007 her husband and she separated, her expected flight assignment was reassigned, and William Oefelein told her he was seeing Colleen Shipman. To listen to this podcast ad-free and access premium episodes, try our subscription with a 14-day free trial at obomedia.com. © 2026 OBOMEDIA. All rights reserved. This episode and its content (audio, text, and related materials) are the exclusive property of OBOMEDIA and are protected by applicable copyright laws. Reproduction, distribution, editing, or commercial use, in whole or in part, without prior written permission from OBOMEDIA is prohibited. For permissions, licensing, and business inquiries: business@obomedia.com.

    The bag's pepper spray ate Colleen's eyes - did she make the bus?
  5. 4d ago

    The glove's forty‑two minutes ran out - did they finish?

    A zoo veterinarian floats two hundred miles up and reaches into the Hubble-did the spacesuit vet finish the delicate repair? The glove's forty‑two minutes ran out - did they finish? In this episode, we follow Richard Linnehan from New Hampshire farm kid to a NASA mission specialist tasked with hands‑on work on the Hubble Space Telescope. The episode traces how skills from zoo and marine mammal medicine translated into methods for operating where instruments can’t speak, and asks what precision looks like in vacuum. Person: Richard Linnehan Linnehan Date: March 1, 2002 Location: 200 miles above Earth Event: Hubble Space Telescope servicing mission spacewalk Background: Doctor of Veterinary Medicine; former chief clinical veterinarian, U.S. Navy Marine Mammal Program - Trained in animal sciences and microbiology, Linnehan built parallel fluency in behavior and internal systems. - As a zoo and marine mammal vet he learned to diagnose nonverbal patients from posture, breathing, and subtle signs. - In 1989 he joined the Army Veterinary Corps and led anesthesia and pharmacokinetics work for cetaceans and pinnipeds. - Selected by NASA in March 1992, he moved from payload and avionics integration roles into flight missions. - On his fourth Hubble servicing mission he had 42 minutes of useful gloved dexterity to work inside the observatory’s most expensive instrument. To listen to this podcast ad-free and access premium episodes, try our subscription with a 14-day free trial at obomedia.com. © 2026 OBOMEDIA. All rights reserved. This episode and its content (audio, text, and related materials) are the exclusive property of OBOMEDIA and are protected by applicable copyright laws. Reproduction, distribution, editing, or commercial use, in whole or in part, without prior written permission from OBOMEDIA is prohibited. For permissions, licensing, and business inquiries: business@obomedia.com.

    The glove's forty‑two minutes ran out - did they finish?
  6. 5d ago

    The CAPCOM Headset That Could Have Stopped Challenger-Seventy-Three Seconds

    A CAPCOM at Mission Control hears Challenger break apart - can the astronaut who once flew that orbiter fix the safety failures before they repeat? The CAPCOM Headset That Could Have Stopped Challenger-Seventy-Three Seconds In this episode, we follow Frederick Drew Gregory’s path from combat rescue pilot to astronaut to the CAPCOM console where he heard Challenger’s disaster in real time. We trace how that seventy‑three‑second loss propelled him into leading NASA’s safety office and ask what choices he made next. Person: Frederick Drew Gregory Event: Challenger breakup, 73 seconds after launch Date: January 28, 1986 Role: CAPCOM at Mission Control; former Challenger pilot - Flew 550 combat rescue missions in Vietnam across more than fifty aircraft types before joining NASA. - Nephew of Charles Richard Drew, who developed wartime blood banking systems; family built institutions in education and medicine. - Selected as an astronaut candidate in 1978 at age 37 with 7,000 flight hours; first shuttle flight aboard Challenger in April 1985. - On January 28, 1986, he was on duty at the CAPCOM console and heard the Challenger break apart in real time. - Instead of leaving NASA, he stayed and was later appointed to lead the newly created Office of Safety and Mission Control. To listen to this podcast ad-free and access premium episodes, try our subscription with a 14-day free trial at obomedia.com. © 2026 OBOMEDIA. All rights reserved. This episode and its content (audio, text, and related materials) are the exclusive property of OBOMEDIA and are protected by applicable copyright laws. Reproduction, distribution, editing, or commercial use, in whole or in part, without prior written permission from OBOMEDIA is prohibited. For permissions, licensing, and business inquiries: business@obomedia.com.

    The CAPCOM Headset That Could Have Stopped Challenger-Seventy-Three Seconds
  7. 6d ago

    The Orbiter Boom found gap fillers - could they land in time?

    A shuttle crew sends an Orbiter Boom to scan Discovery's heat shield - can the inspection finish before reentry? The Orbiter Boom found gap fillers - could they land in time? In this episode, we follow Discovery's Return to Flight mission as the crew uses the newly built Orbiter Boom Sensor System to inspect the orbiter after foam shed from the external tank. The episode covers the launch anomalies, the inspection procedures and the discovery of gap fillers - the question is whether the team can assess and act fast enough to protect reentry. Mission: STS-114 Date: July 26, 2005 (launch); August 1, 2005 (boom deployment) Person: Commander Eileen Collins; Mission Specialist Stephen K. Robinson; Soichi Noguchi Location: Space Shuttle Discovery; external tank (PAL ramp); orbiter underside Tool: Orbiter Boom Sensor System (50-foot boom with visual and laser range imager) - Launch reached orbit after a scrubbed attempt on July 13 and a T‑0 liftoff at 10:39 on July 26, 2005, following 907 days of grounding after Columbia. - Cameras and sensors were increased across the stack; at 127 seconds a 36×11×6.7 inch foam piece detached from the PAL ramp but did not strike Discovery. - NASA grounded the fleet the next morning while Discovery remained in orbit, shifting the mission focus from ISS supply to in‑space inspection. - On August 1 the crew deployed the 50‑foot Orbiter Boom Sensor System to perform frame‑by‑frame visual and laser mapping of the thermal protection tiles. - During the slow underside survey the team identified two strips of ceramic‑impregnated cloth gap fillers woven into the tile array, prompting new questions about reentry risk. To listen to this podcast ad-free and access premium episodes, try our subscription with a 14-day free trial at obomedia.com. © 2026 OBOMEDIA. All rights reserved. This episode and its content (audio, text, and related materials) are the exclusive property of OBOMEDIA and are protected by applicable copyright laws. Reproduction, distribution, editing, or commercial use, in whole or in part, without prior written permission from OBOMEDIA is prohibited. For permissions, licensing, and business inquiries: business@obomedia.com.

    The Orbiter Boom found gap fillers - could they land in time?
  8. Oct 20

    The Man Who Stopped a Tumbling Satellite with His Hands

    A physicist reaches out to stop a tumbling satellite two hundred and twelve miles above Earth - did he make it in time? The Man Who Stopped a Tumbling Satellite with His Hands In this episode, we follow NASA’s STS-51A mission as it attempts an unprecedented orbital salvage. The crew faces the challenge of rendezvousing with two dead, tumbling communications satellites and the question becomes: can a human in a spacesuit stop a spinning machine in frictionless vacuum? Person: Joseph Allen Date: November 16, 1984 Event: STS-51A space salvage attempt Location: Low Earth orbit, 212 miles above Earth Case: Recovery of Palapa B-2 and Westar VI - Two communications satellites, Palapa B-2 and Westar VI, misfired their Payload Assist Modules and were stranded in low, useless orbits. - The insurers paid claims and the satellites became the property of insurance companies, but engineers still considered retrieving them. - NASA assigned Discovery’s crew for STS-51A, with Joseph Allen selected as a mission specialist to perform an external capture. - Mission planners had to match altitude, velocity, position, and rotation precisely to rendezvous with a slowly tumbling, unpowered object. - There was no existing procedure or training for manually stopping a rotating satellite in open space; the effort would define a new kind of operation. To listen to this podcast ad-free and access premium episodes, try our subscription with a 14-day free trial at obomedia.com. © 2026 OBOMEDIA. All rights reserved. This episode and its content (audio, text, and related materials) are the exclusive property of OBOMEDIA and are protected by applicable copyright laws. Reproduction, distribution, editing, or commercial use, in whole or in part, without prior written permission from OBOMEDIA is prohibited. For permissions, licensing, and business inquiries: business@obomedia.com.

    The Man Who Stopped a Tumbling Satellite with His Hands

About

Space has swallowed careers, missions, and men whole, leaving behind bolts, checklists, and a few surviving voices who know exactly how close the silence came. This show digs through NASA archives, mission transcripts, and the quiet testimony of astronauts to rebuild what actually happened when the plan fell apart forty miles above Earth or a quarter million miles toward the Moon. Each episode is one complete, reconstructed story, told without a host standing between you and the record. A skull rides shotgun on Hubble's highest orbit. A 121-pound cap gets bolted onto a spacecraft that still won't reveal where it's leaking. A navigator with no instruments steers by starlight to bring Apollo 13 home. A surgeon performs emergency repairs on a live solar array with no operating room and no second attempt. These are not summaries — they are minute-by-minute accounts built from flight logs, radio chatter, and the private memories of the people who lived through space disasters that never made the headlines they deserved. The show moves through the full arc of American spaceflight: the astronauts denied their missions for reasons buried in politics, the men who crossed space three times and still never got their wings, the geologists who proved the Moon itself had lied about a mountain's identity. It is NASA history told through the human cost of ambition — the near-misses, the improvised fixes, the decisions made in seconds that took decades to fully explain. If you want space history that reads like a thriller because it actually was one, subscribe now. New episodes arrive weekly, each one a self-contained descent into a mission that almost didn't make it back.