I almost drowned in space when my helmet filled with water

As water quickly enveloped my face, it surged over my nose and into my nostrils, leaving me nearly blind, unable to hear, and struggling to breathe through my nose. I knew my priority was to reach the airlock and re-enter the International Space Station. The critical question was: how much time did I have before the water reached my mouth, making it impossible to breathe?

Embarking on a spacewalk immerses you into a new realm. It’s a unique and privileged viewpoint. Within the ISS, gazing through the cupola windows, you remain in the safe confines of the station, akin to looking into a vast and breathtaking aquarium. However, stepping out for a spacewalk plunges you into the void, an unforgiving environment that doesn’t accommodate human life. Without the protective spacesuit, survival would be a matter of minutes.

The expanse of stars and darkness is strikingly vivid. During one spacewalk, I was transported across the space station on a robotic arm, attached by my feet. With both the station and Earth behind me, I had no point of reference. For the first time, I could grasp the three-dimensional nature of space. Perhaps it was my background in astrophysics, but I visualized space as a sponge-like network of bubbles and voids surrounded by massive light sources. I’ve tried to recapture that moment since, but without success.

I’ve completed six spacewalks, and during my second on 16 July 2013, a water leak occurred. The sudden sensation of cold liquid at the back of my head was unsettling. Nonetheless, I followed protocol and informed ground control: “Hey, I feel water in the back of my helmet, FYI—for your information.” This was my way of indicating I was still okay and prepared to continue.

I was instructed to wait for further guidance. They inquired about the source of the water, but I was unsure. Despite this, I felt it accumulating. In microgravity, water behaves differently, with capillarity enabling it to move easily across surfaces.

Many people envision spacesuits similar to those in films like Gravity or The Martian, where helmets are oversized to showcase actors’ faces. In contrast, our helmets are smaller, with limited space between the helmet and our faces. The water quickly filled this confined area. Once my ears were blocked, I could hardly hear anything, and ground control couldn’t hear me either.

As the sun set, complicating matters further, I was left with only the illumination from my helmet lights to see directly ahead. The water blurred my vision, making it impossible to focus on anything distant.

Despite not knowing the water’s source, my priority was clear: act quickly. I might have had only a few minutes before the situation became critical. While I couldn’t control the water, I could control my actions.

Before becoming an astronaut, I was a pilot, advancing to a fighter pilot and then a test pilot. Early in flight school, I was taught the three steps for handling emergencies: maintain control, assess the situation, and take appropriate action.

The appropriate action was to return to the airlock. Moving along the station’s exterior, I used handles to guide myself back. Although the next handle was out of sight, I could reach it by feeling my way along my tether, which anchored me to the airlock.

Moving in a spacesuit is more challenging than it seems. The suit is pressurized, and this pressure resists your muscle movements. Your hands and fingers lack strong muscles, making it feel like squeezing a tennis ball when gripping handles.

The final stretch of the spacewalk felt interminable, though it only took 7 minutes to return to the airlock. During that time, ground control couldn’t hear me and was unaware of my condition. Later, I learned that they didn’t realize I was in trouble because my heart rate remained steady. I managed to stay calm.

I can still recall that spacewalk, but it doesn’t haunt me. Although it didn’t change me personally, it altered our operational procedures. We found a blocked filter caused the issue, prompting us to revise pre-spacewalk checks. We also added a snorkel to the spacesuits to allow breathing from the body chamber air if the helmet fills with water. This should prevent such incidents in the future, which is the positive outcome.

While what astronauts achieve is indeed remarkable, it doesn’t make us extraordinary individuals. We’re simply regular people equipped with the training to perform remarkable tasks.

As told to Colin Barras