The Mammoth Book of Space Exploration and Disasters

His “pretty good” oscillations were actually pretty bad, registering now outside the “tolerable range” of 10 percent, the worst so far. Not yet. Not yet. He was waiting for twenty-five thousand feet, the upper limit for a drogue-chute release, performed entirely at the astronaut’s discretion. His heart rate, which had averaged about seventy beats per minute throughout the flight, hit a peak of 104. Not unexpected.

Carpenter reported: “Drogue out manually at 25. It’s holding and it was just in time.”

The drogue chute did its job steadying the capsule. “Just in time” was a reference to its welcome effect on the oscillations. Still falling. Still reporting at thirteen thousand feet. Scott was “standing by” for the main chute at “mark 10” – the altimeter mark of ten thousand feet:

“Mark 10. I see the main is out and reefed and it looks good to me. The main chute is out. Landing bag is auto now. The drogue has fallen away. I see a perfect chute. Visor open. Cabin temperature is only 110 at this point. Helmet hose is off.”

Carpenter asked: “Does anybody read – does anybody read Aurora 7? Over.”

Then Cape Capcom (Gus Grissom): “Aurora 7, Aurora 7, Cape Capcom. Over.”

Carpenter reported: “Roger, I’m reading you. I’m on the main chute at 5,000, status is good.”

Some back and forth. Aurora 7 was beneath the clouds now: “Hello.” “How do you read?” “Loud and clear, Gus. How me?” But Gus heard not a single transmission from Scott. Transmitting blind, Gus announced:

“Aurora 7… your landing point is 200 miles long. We will jump the Air Rescue people to you.”

Carpenter replied: “Roger. Understand. I’m reading.”

Gus repeated: “Be advised your landing point is long. We will jump Air Rescue people to you in about one hour.”

Carpenter acknowledged: “Roger. Understand 1 hour.”

Scott could see the water now and prepared for the landing. The impact was not at all hard, but the capsule went completely underwater, only to pop back up and list sharply to one side. He was dismayed to see a good bit of water splash down on to the voice recorder.

All things considered – the unexpected amount of water; the sharp listing of the capsule (sixty degrees, although it would soon recover to a more reasonable forty-five degrees as the landing bag filled with water and began to act like a sea anchor), and the growing heat in the cabin – Scott thought it sensible to get out quickly. With a pararescue team an hour away, this meant egress through the nose of the capsule, a procedure practiced many times in preparation for just such situations. Al and John had orderly side-hatch exits, John’s aboard a destroyer, the USS Noa. An appalling side-hatch explosion had sent Gus scrambling out, against an incoming tide of seawater, into the ocean where he nearly drowned – recovery helicopters focused on the task of keeping his waterlogged capsule from sinking sixteen thousand feet to the ocean floor. Scott’s top-hatch egress would be Project Mercury’s first and, as it turned out, only one. It took him four minutes.

Carpenter’s suit was fitted with a neck dam, a watertight rubber seal at the collar. Kris Stoever:

First, he removed the instrument panel from the bulkhead, exposing the narrow egress up through the nose of the capsule, where until recently two parachutes had been neatly stowed. It was a tight fit, but with some scooting and muscling upward, he made his way to the small hatch opening. Egress procedures mandated Scott deploy his neck dam. But he was very hot. Surveying the gently swelling seas and all his flotation gear, he decided not to.

Perched in the neck of the capsule, Scott rested for a moment. It was 80 degrees. Egress procedure called next for deploying the life raft. He placed his camera on a small ledge near the opening and dropped the raft into the water, where it quickly inflated. The SARAH (Search and Rescue and Homing) beacon came on automatically, allowing aircraft to home in on his position, somewhere southeast of the Virgin Islands. After grabbing the camera, Scott ventured down the side of the capsule and climbed into the raft. It was upside down. There was nothing to do but to turn it over; so back in the ocean he went and flipped the raft over with one arm, holding the camera aloft with the other. He tied the raft to the capsule, and only then did he deploy the neck dam. Finally in the raft, with his water and food rations and the camera dry at his side, he said a brief prayer of thanks and relaxed for the wait. He had never felt better in his life.

On CBS News the presenter Walter Cronkite reported: “While thousands watch and pray… Certainly here at Cape Canaveral the silence is almost intolerable.”