Second man on Moon enthusiastic advocate of space tourism

Three things strike you when legendary astronaut Buzz Aldrin walks into the room.

First, he does not walk, he swaggers. His Apollo 11 jacket is polished and preened, and he swings into the room like a movie star – - sporting perfectly ironed tan corduroys and matching moccasins.

Second, his skin is perfect to the point of transparent.

No blemishes, no craters, and no sign of the 74 years chalked up by the second man to walk on the moon.

Finally, he is all-American. From the drawl “well, good morning, I’m very excited to be here in the South Island of New Zeeeland” — right down to his all-American blonde- haired, blue-eyed wife Lois, and the grandson following in Grandpa’s footsteps at the Alabama (drawl) space camp.

Aldrin was the star attraction at Easter weekend’s Warbirds over Wanaka.

When The Press finally gained access to him, he was a glowing advocate for space exploration and a dutifully gushing tourist to our shores.

“I’m thrilled to be here. I visited New Zealand for the first time 20 years ago. My younger son and I were on a world trip. We visited a small town in the northern island.

“That’s where I first learned you don’t raise sheep on a ranch, you raise them on a farm. The other two things that struck me about New Zealand on that trip were that the bath tubs are tremendous that you build here — so long — and that the flies are enormous.”

It seems odd to describe the second man to walk on the moon as down to earth but few phrases would sum up his approach better.

He jokes, he reminisces, and when questioned on the biological impact on the human body of living on Mars, he spews forth enough of his own scientific research to impress even the most astute Nasa scientist.

In short, he is a Nasa public relations dream.

Aldrin began his career flying Sabre jets in the Korean conflict, shooting down two Mig 15s.

He went on to earn a doctorate in Astronautics from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology in Manned Space Rendezvous.

In 1963, he joined Nasa and just six years later set foot on the Moon.

His achievements are well- documented and his eyes still twinkle even when asked the perennial question: how did it feel up there?

“I can remember looking at the Moon as a stranger. Now it’s a bit more of a friend. There is no way to simulate seeing rocks, crystal clear, a velvet black sky, sun so brilliant you can’t see the stars. The Earth looks a long way away. That’s home, a little blue, brown thing in the distance. And you think, `apart from the three of us up here, everyone else is back there’.”

There has been endless speculation over apparent friction between Aldrin and the first man to walk on the moon, Neil Armstrong, but Aldrin, the bridesmaid, is philosophical.

“The memory of the first steps on the moon were reserved by seniority so it was not up to me coming down 20 minutes later to be clever and inventive and historical about utterances. The thoughts I had were what do we do and how can we not do something wrong that will be regretful.”

There is a hint of disdain in the otherwise perfectly spoken American’s voice. He quickly moves the conversation along.

“The moments I want to remember are the few seconds after we saw the contact (with the lunar surface) button light up and we looked at each other and it was a moment of relief, pride, and satisfaction.”

Aldrin will go down in history for his part in the Moon landing, and he is keen to push space exploration on future generations.

He is an advocate of space tourism, and speaks fondly about his good friend Dennis Tito — the first space tourist thanks to a hefty cheque to the Russian space programme. “What came from Dennis’s trip was the word Space Tourism. It is a word that is easy to ridicule and it was called the giggle factor but I really believe we can open up space to more than just test pilots or engineers.”

He speaks quite seriously about encouraging the US government into investing in a nationwide lottery to find the next space tourist.

He goes as far to suggest a television game show could lift the profile of space exploration.

“I was surprised by the popularity of Who Wants to be a Millionaire and I thought, `why don’t we have a game show Who Wants to be an Astronaut?’”

Recently interviewed for a tribute documentary to New Zealand’s most famous connection to the space programme, Sir William Pickering, Aldrin says kids should set up space societies and reach for the stars.

New Zealand children should honour the heritage that is here of New Zealand’s participation in exciting aeronautical experiences.

“‘When I was on the moon, two words came into my head, magnificent desolation. It was a magnificent time but I don’t think it’s a place where people will enjoy the scenery as much as here in the South Island of New Zealand.”

And there he leaves it. Off to join the throngs of fans gazing skyward as Warbirds display their talents high in the sky above Wanaka.

Though I suspect the morning sun causing a squint in spectators’ eyes and the lingering moon from a chilly night in the alpine climate feel a little more familiar to Aldrin than they do to the 100,000 people gathered in the airfield grounds.

Anna Claridge in Wanaka

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