Helicopters on Mars and other Flights of Fancy

 As NASA's latest Mars rover, Perseverance, touches down on the red planet, Mike Bodnar looks to the skies...

The closest I'll get to Mars: a two-week stay at the
Mars Desert Research Station in Utah, 2012

I blame a madman with a monocle for making me want to go to Mars. You know the sort – what we used to call a 'boffin', a mad scientist type. Unruly hair, exaggerated gesticulations, rapid-talking, one eyebrow raised perpetually in alarm or astonishment – all the clichés of the nutty professor.

Except in this case he wasn't mad, just extremely knowledgeable and enthusiastic about space and astronomy, and he wanted to pass that enthusiasm on to others, especially youngsters. Cue Sir Patrick Moore's entrance, stage right. Or preferably, lowered from above per deus ex machina.

Patrick Moore, as he simply was when I first watched him on the BBC's monthly Sky at Night programme – he later became Sir Patrick – was already a legend when I discovered him in the early 1960s. Not only was he the host of the Sky at Night, but also author of many books, mostly illustrated texts on astronomy, but also – crucially for me – some science fiction.

Sir Patrick Moore, author, astronomer, motivator
Image: The Royal Society

Even at the age of seven or so I was mad keen on all things space, and from there on I made it my mission to boldly go and read everything I could on the universe and space exploration. I devoured every single sci-fi book Huyton Library and nearby branches had on their shelves.

Thus it was that I discovered that Patrick Moore had written a series of Mars novels, set in a future when the red planet had been (sparsely) colonised on an international basis, with various habitat domes dotted here and there for research and exploration. Spacecraft travelled back and forth between Mars and Earth on a regular basis, but as the red planet's atmosphere was unbreathably thin and toxic, with freezing cold temperatures and unknown perils, there was always danger lurking in the wings. (Or even with wings!)

I was enthralled. What I didn't know at the time was that some of the things that Moore was writing about would come true, although I hoped in my heart of hearts that they all would, and within my lifetime. I wanted to go to Mars.

Blue Origin's New Shepherd vehicle
Image: Blue Origin

Elon Musk hadn't been born then of course, and Jeff Bezos was just a twinkle in his
mother's eye, although Richard Branson beat me to the nursery by four years. But Patrick Moore didn't reckon on space exploration becoming the domain of billionaires and private enterprise; his vision was one of international cooperation by government space agencies (which of course we have with the International Space Station), with Mars being explored by scientists of all nations working together. If robotic probes had earlier been sent to scout Mars, Moore didn't mention them, but he did predict something that even I thought unlikely at the time: helicopters.

Moore's Mars envisaged helicopters being used for exploration of the planet's surface, and as transport between key locations. And as NASA's latest rover Perseverance lands on Mars it carries with it the first ever Martian helicopter. Moore will be looking down with approval from wherever he is now, perhaps he's somewhere on Mars.

Ingenuity. Image: NASA

The helicopter about to help explore the red planet is called Ingenuity. Its mission is to scout a pathway for its parent Perseverance, finding places of interest to investigate, and areas of risk to avoid.

It is however more like the sort of model remote control helicopter that you might buy from an electronics shop or online. It is about the size of a toaster, and its twin counter-rotating rotors (four feet across) have to spin at a staggering 2,400rpm to be able to fly in Mars's thin atmosphere. Terrestrial helicopter rotors spin at only about 400rpm. But importantly, it is equipped with a camera, so maybe we'll get to see some exciting close-quarter aerial views of Mars, while the possibilities for Instagrammable pics of Perseverance traversing the landscape are endless.

Vintage choppers on Mars

Patrick Moore's Martian choppers very much reflected the state of helicopter technology of the late 1950s, and the book cover of Peril on Mars looks comical today, not helped by the astronauts all looking like Bender from Futurama. But then, 60 or 70 years from now, what will people be saying about our present-day visions of the future? They'll likely be falling off their hover stools.

I interviewed Dr. Moore (as he was then) in the mid-1980s and when I asked if he would sign my copies of his Mars novels he agreed without hesitation, although he seemed embarrassed to have authored them at all. When I told him his books had inspired me, he muttered, 'Oh dear.'

In Patrick's defence, no science fiction writer – or indeed any of us – can accurately predict the future, mainly because we just don't know what unexpected influences will come to bear on the progress of spaceflight, space technology, society, or human endeavour. I did read one sci-fi novel where space exploration faced real challenges from the 'New Morality' government of Earth, a scenario not light years away from the Earth/Mars/Asteroid Belt conflicts of Netflix's The Expanse. And who knows? We only need a major religious movement to take control and next thing you know in God's name all space exploration could be cancelled in the beat of an angel's wings.

But that's the fun of science fiction; it takes imaginative leaps into all possibilities, so in the end, some scenarios which we read or watch today will actually come to pass.

A Starship test launch. Image: MIT Technology Review

Some already have; when I was reading sci-fi from the 60s and 70s, space rockets were usually long, pointy and had fins. They would launch off their tail fins and land on their tail fins, and they all looked basically like Hitler's V2 rockets.

In the intervening decades, rockets have indeed looked similar to that and have launched the same way; not a lot has changed. In fact, the principle of a rocket being a tube full of combustible fuel which, once ignited, spews flame and energy from the base thereby pushing the rocket upwards and into orbit is exactly the same today as it was in 1969 when Apollo 11 headed for the moon. Or when Hitler was trying to destroy London in 1944 and '45. Or indeed when the Chinese were using rockets for warlike purposes in 1232 AD.

Sure, some of the fuels and engine technology have changed, but the principle is still the same. However, as Elon Musk and Jeff Bezos have both amply demonstrated, bringing a rocket booster back to Earth and landing it safely on its tail can actually work. So we now have reusable rockets, which have been a mainstay of science fiction novels, movies and television programmes since, well, forever.

Novels about robotic landers such as Spirit, Opportunity and Curiosity going to Mars and being operated from Earth very slowly and carefully don't make for gripping story lines, especially since they haven't yet photographed any Martians, so we can perhaps forgive sci-fi novelists for not concentrating on them quite as much.

But we do live in an age of increasing excitement in space exploration. Patrick Moore was ahead of his time when, in his Mars novels, he predicted terraforming, where humankind attempts to turn Mars into a more Earth-like planet, with an oxygen-enriched atmosphere and plant life. (Spoiler alert: it all goes horribly wrong in a Jurassic Park-type way). And today there are plenty of people who believe that over time – many thousands of years – Mars could become a second Earth. Which is fine as long as a climate colder than Antarctica is what you like. Or your name is Elon Musk.

Perseverance. Image: NASA 

Meanwhile, we are on the doorstep of the final frontier, and there's plenty happening this year. Three spacecraft have just arrived at Mars, including NASA's Perseverance, so there will be more analysis of the red planet than ever before. Richard Branson is poised – still – to take tourists to space and back via Virgin Galactic, while Jeff Bezos's Blue Origin could make some more breakthroughs this year. We don't know much about Blue Origin's plans as Bezos plays his cards close to his chest.

Elon Musk's Starship enterprise (no pun intended, but you're welcome) continues to advance at – what is for space technology development – breakneck speed. His ongoing Falcon launch schedule looks like being its busiest this year, while the Starship tests stand to wow us with ever-increasing altitudes and – hopefully – smooth landings. In the end, Mars is Starship's destination, but for the moment we'll have to be satisfied with the existing rover programmes.

And I haven't even touched on the space programmes in India, the UAE, Russia, China, Europe and other places.

Virgin Galactic. Image: British GQ Magazine

I'm most unlikely to ever make it to the red planet, or even off the Earth. When he wrote them in the late 1950s, Patrick Moore envisaged his Mars novels being set around 1968, but as we know, Neil and Buzz didn't even set foot on the moon till a year later, so to make predictions as to when the first humans will walk on Mars is inviting ridicule. I don't like to be ridiculed so I'm not even going to try.

Instead I'll be happy to watch The Mars Show courtesy of Perseverance and Ingenuity. Bring it on.

(Unless of course I win big on the lottery, in which case I'll be buying a ticket on a Virgin Galactic trip to space. That would suit me.)

The Good, the Bad and the Boring – Part Four

Victor Borge. Image: Reiner Hersch

The Great Dane sat across from me at the lunch table. It was the mid-1980s, and Victor Borge and I were to do an interview at the hotel in Wellington where he was staying during a tour of New Zealand.

The waiter appeared beside us to take our orders, and Victor indicated that I should order first. 'I'll have the Beef Wellington please,' I said, knowing that this was the posh Parkroyal and that the meal should be excellent. The waiter turned with a raised eyebrow to Denmark's greatest export after Carlsberg. 'I'll have a club sandwich.'

If I could have shrunk myself to disappear into my seat I would have done. Or, in hindsight, maybe I should have just changed my order there and then, say, to a dry cracker. Unfortunately I didn't.

So here he was, the world-famous pianist-comedian who for years had had audiences in stitches by combining musical excellence with comedy genius, playing with – and destroying – the English language while also doing the same with some of the world's greatest piano pieces. Mozart, I suspect, would have loved the humour of it.

The Clown Prince of Denmark.
Image: Jesper Jurcenoks

We chatted about Borge's musical background, and yes indeed he was, like Mozart, a prodigy. He had started learning the piano not long after he'd learned to walk, thanks to having parents who were also accomplished musicians.

Our meals arrived – Victor having had to wait for his humble sandwich while the chef prepared my Beef Wellington – and we tucked in. Rather like Hercule Poirot, Victor Borge personified the word 'dapper'; he was neat, trimmed, precise, tidy, with a twinkle in his eyes, and he was the perfect gentleman. Despite my asking him all the same questions that he'd been asked a million times by interviewers the world over, he answered them with good humour.

I asked him, 'What is the secret to your comedy?' He smiled at me and said, conspiratorially, 'If I told you, it wouldn't be a secret!' and smiled.

As I've mentioned in the previous articles on famous people I've interviewed, not all of them wanted to talk, or even be there, but I'm happy to say that the Clown Prince of Denmark was totally professional and fully engaged in our conversation. The following day I received a message from his son (with whom he was travelling) saying how much his father had enjoyed meeting me and doing the interview. I'd never had such a compliment from a celebrity before and never received one again. I suspect it said more about him then me, but hey, what a gent.

Another gentleman it was a pleasure to meet was astronomer, science broadcaster and

Carl Sagan. Image: Michaerl Okoniewski

author Carl Sagan. By the time he visited New Zealand in the 1980s he was already well known for his astronomy programmes on TV and was, arguably, the most famous name in science communication at the time.

In the UK, astronomer Patrick Moore was, as host of the BBC's long-running Sky At Night programme, also famous, and I interviewed him around the same time. While Patrick was dishevelled and lovely (and signed some books for me), he was a complete contrast to Carl Sagan. Patrick Moore fitted the stereotypical 'boffin' description, with his wildly effusive method of speaking and machine gun-delivery. I don't think anyone could fit so many words into an interview as Moore did.

Sagan on the other hand was more calm and measured, but also more outspoken. This worked for him as a science communicator because not only was he capable of simplifying difficult concepts for a lay audience, he wasn't afraid to address some of the big questions, such as the role of God in the universe. Patrick Moore stuck more to astronomy as a discipline, but they both shared success as communicators and as enthusiasts.

Sir Patrick Moore.
Image: South Downs Planetarium

The main difference was that Carl Sagan achieved global popularity (ref. his acclaimed series and book Cosmos) and some notoriety, to the point that Harvard refused to accept him either on their staff or as a serious astronomer. They disliked the way he popularised astronomy, but I thought he was the bees' knees.

As with Victor Borge, Sagan graciously put up with my questions, which I’m sure he'd answered a billion times before, and – being an experienced broadcaster – he was a dream to interview, knowing just how long to make his answers, just when to stop, or when to elaborate as required.

As I think I've mentioned, most of the famous people I interviewed have since died (not necessarily as a result of meeting me, yet who knows?), but Carl Sagan passed away at the obscenely young age of just 62. Patrick Moore and Victor Borge are also no longer with us, and nor is Marcel Marceau...

French mime artist Marceau, with his top hat, striped top and clown face (the trademarks of his character 'Bip') was world famous when I met him for an interview in the studio on our regional TV programme Today Tonight. My French wasn't even at intermediate stage at the time, but luckily his English was perfect, although I guess we could have done the whole interview in mime. I'm just not sure how I would have asked him how he got started in the 'art

of silence.'

Marcel Marceau as Bip.
 Image: Wikipedia

I'm not sure even if I asked him that out loud, otherwise I'm sure I would have remembered him telling me how he first used mime to entertain rescued Jewish children during the Second World War while he was secretly working for the French Jewish resistance.

What a fascinating man. And yet, the thing I remember most about him was his awful, awful wig. I'd met him before the programme in make-up, and could see then just how dreadful his rug was. It was curly, streaked with grey, but also filthy, matted even. I could hardly take my eyes off it, and yet here I was talking with a man who had been made a Grand Officier de la Légion d'Honneur in his native France and who had risked his life in the French resistance.

Needless to say, I never received any awards for my interviewing.

As an example of how naïve some of my interviewing was in the early days (early- to mid-1980s) go and read about my meeting with SpikeMilligan, a highlight of my broadcasting career but which disappoints me still as one of my biggest missed opportunities ever.

Mark Knopfler.
Image: Klaus Hiltscher, Wikipedia

There are quite a few other famous names that have been on the soft and squidgy end of my interviewing skills, such as Dire Straits' Mark Knopfler, Allan Clarke of the Hollies, and either Rupert Murdoch or Robert Maxwell (unbelievably I can't remember which!).

I've had a drink with the famous British character actor Derek Guyler, shared a flaccid and fleeting handshake with Kenny Everett, and I've had lunch with Clive Anderson. I've chatted (briefly) with Stephen Fry and had a more extended conversation on the set of Rivendell with Sir Peter Jackson. But now I'm just name-dropping, and there's not much to tell about any of those encounters.

Let me finish though by saying that, while many (if not most) of my televised interviews were bog-standard, unexciting and definitely not shock-horror-revealing, the best one I ever did, even though it was at the Avalon Television Studios, was without cameras and with no audience.

There’d been an industrial argument going on for weeks in New Zealand between the Employers' Federation and a national union, but negotiations had reached stalemate.

I was to interview two of the kingpins – Pat Kelly of (I think) the Cleaners' and Caretakers' Union and John Robertson of the Employers' Federation – live on camera. Again we were restricted to no more than about five minutes' duration, so it was unlikely I was going to be doing a ground-breaking interview.

Avalon TV Studios, New Zealand
Image: TVNZ

And so it proved; they both behaved extremely well, politely answered my questions, but hardly set the audience on fire with their blazing disagreements or opinions. They didn't shout or come to blows and I didn't have to referee. It was polite, sanitised, and – let's face it – probably boring. Until we retired to the TV One Club after the show for a drink.

Continuing to chat over a pint I asked Pat Kelly how the disagreement had started and what his concerns were. He told me and I turned to the Federation's John Robertson and said, “That sounds like a genuine grievance to me…” to which he replied, ‘Yes it is, but…” and proceeded to put his side of the argument. “That makes sense to me,” I said to Pat, who agreed it did, except…

And so it went on like a tennis match until in the end they were metaphorically shaking hands over the net and in accord with each other so much that I said it seemed there was enough common ground to progress out of the stalemate. Result!

From that day on I began to properly interview people by listening to them, but I never again had such a golden opportunity to solve a union dispute. And, I don't think I interviewed anyone famous again either.

If only I could go back in time, I would do it all differently. But that's hindsight for you.

If you've enjoyed this, please check out my previous articles on famous people I've interviewed here:

Part One – Rowan Atkinson, Arthur Lowe

Part Two – Dave Allen, Barry Humphries, Jeffrey Archer

Part Three – Dr. David Bellamy, Douglas Adams, Mel Smith & Griff Rhys-Jones

Previously: Spike Milligan