КОСМОС 186-188

[ronatu]

Очень давно мучает меня вопрос - что было внутри Космосов 186-188?

Был ли там гермообъем? и тд.

Кто знает?

[ronatu]

[ronatu]

[ronatu]

[instml]

Очень давно мучает меня вопрос - что было внутри Космосов 186-188?

Был ли там гермообъем? и тд.

Кто знает?

Конечно был, этож были Союзы
Приведенные картинки отфотошоплены пропагандой и не соответствуют действительности.

[instml]

http://space.skyrocket.de/doc_sdat/soyuz_7k-ok-p.htm



http://space.skyrocket.de/doc_sdat/soyuz_7k-ok-a.htm

[Pirx]

Очень давно мучает меня вопрос - что было внутри Космосов 186-188? Был ли там гермообъем? и тд.

Добавлю: "Космос-186" = "Союз" 7К-ОК (А) №6 и "Космос-188" = "Союз" 7К-ОК (П) №5 (см. Черток Б.Е. "Ракеты и люди"). Внутри, по-видимому, всё было как у обычного Союза. Например, на борту "Космосе-133" ("Союз" 7К-ОК № 2) находился манекен.

[Танк]

Обычные Союзы, доработанные под беспилотный вариант (большее количество датчиков и т.п.).  Вместо кресел, насколько помню, рамы с приборами. Манекенов не было.

[AVsP]

Неужели когда-то то, что на "Союзе" круглый орбитальный отсек и фарообразный СА, было государственной тайной?
Иначе этот рисунок объяснить сложно  :roll:

[Дмитрий Виницкий]

Нет, это было сделано, чтобы думали, что это именно спутники "Космос", а не беспилотные "Союзы".

[ronatu]

Очень давно мучает меня вопрос - что было внутри Космосов 186-188? Был ли там гермообъем? и тд.

Добавлю: "Космос-186" = "Союз" 7К-ОК (А) №6 и "Космос-188" = "Союз" 7К-ОК (П) №5 (см. Черток Б.Е. "Ракеты и люди"). Внутри, по-видимому, всё было как у обычного Союза. Например, на борту "Космосе-133" ("Союз" 7К-ОК № 2) находился манекен.

Был ли СА?
Полноценный?
Мог ли возвращаться?
Пытались ли как с 133 и 140?
Результат?

[Старый]

Был ли СА?
Полноценный?
Мог ли возвращаться?

Не только мог но и вернулся. Оба.

[ronatu]

Был ли СА?
Полноценный?
Мог ли возвращаться?

Не только мог но и вернулся. Оба.

Володя, а 212 и 213? Их запускали по той же программе? Кроме более догого пребывания в стыкованном состоянии еще были какие либо отличия?

[Старый]

Володя, а 212 и 213? Их запускали по той же программе? Кроме более догого пребывания в стыкованном состоянии еще были какие либо отличия?

Та же программа, никаких отличий. Стыковка К-186/188 была не вполне удачной, стягивания не произошло. К-212/213 был повтором с целью добиться полного успеха.

[Pirx]

Был ли СА? Полноценный? Мог ли возвращаться?

Не только мог но и вернулся. Оба.

Вы конечно правы ("вернулись оба" :-) ), но вернулись они по-разному. Согласно Чертоку:
"Космос-186" ("Амур"): "31 октября на 65-м витке "Амур" в режиме баллистического спуска совершил мягкую посадку. ...
"Космос-188" ("Байкал"): "Еще сутки мы возились с "Байкалом", пытаясь понять, что происходит со звездным датчиком. Убедившись, что и на этом корабле ему доверять нельзя, приняли решение осуществлять ориентацию для спуска на ионной системе. ... 2 ноября, кое-как выставив корабль по ионной системе, дали команды на запуск программ цикла спуска. Ионная система споткнулась где-то в "бразильской яме", и импульс торможения послал корабль к Земле по длинной пологой траектории, которая вышла за пределы разрешенного коридора. Система АПО уничтожила 7К-ОК №5. На этот раз наша система сопровождения и система ПРО внимательно следили за траекторией спуска СА. Корабль был взорван после пролета над Иркутском. Если бы не АПО, приземление могло бы произойти в 400 километрах восточнее Улан-Удэ".

[Старый]

Да. И после этой аварии и предшествующей гибели Комарова дули на воду. Решено было посылать людей только после трёх подряд успешных посадок. Поэтому двух посадок К-212/213 оказалось недостаточно и пришлось чисто для демонстрации посадки посылать ещё один корабль - К-238. И только после того как нормально сел и он, дали добро на полёт Берегового.

[Petrovich]

Картинка знакомая, но вот чем руководствовался художник Соколов,
написав тогда же эту картину, изображающую стыковку, мне до сих пор неведомо :roll:

[ronatu]

Интересно было бы настоящии фото увидеть... :cry:

[ronatu]

Неужели реальных снимков нет???

[Leroy]

Неужели реальных снимков нет???

Реальных снимков чего? Есть телефото состыкованных кораблей, сделанное с одного из них. (Извините, не буду его искать - оно широко известно). В остальном упомянутые "Космосы" внешне не отличались от "Союзов" 7К-ОК.

[ronatu]

Неужели реальных снимков нет???

Реальных снимков чего?

Космоса 186-188-212-213

Есть телефото состыкованных кораблей, сделанное с одного из них. (Извините, не буду его искать - оно широко известно)...

См. предыдущую страницу

На Союз похоже ... мало

[ronatu]

Кстати, а что случилось со 187?

[ronatu]

"For the Tenth Time": The Story of Soyuz 4 & 5 (Part 1)




At first glance, the flight of Soyuz 4 seemed certain to suffer misfortune. Its lone pilot, Vladimir Shatalov, arrived at the Baikonur launch pad in the desolate steppe of Central Asia on 13 January 1969, to become the Soviet Union's 13th man in space. He had already earned recognition as one of the most outstanding members of his cosmonaut class, and on Soyuz 4 he would ride alone into orbit, but would be joined by the three-man crew of Soyuz 5—two of the men would spacewalk over to his craft and return to Earth with him. Had this daring and intensely risky mission been attempted, as intended, two years earlier, it would have cleared a major hurdle in the Soviet assault on the Moon, but by the end of 1968 America staged a circumlunar mission and the joint flight of Soyuz 4/5 looked to the rest of the world like a stunt and a mere shadow of what it might have been.
 
In fact, Shatalov and the Soyuz 5 crew of Boris Volynov, Alexei Yeliseyev, and Yevgeni Khrunov had barely concluded their final exams when, on Christmas Eve, they received the grim news that Apollo 8 had entered orbit around the Moon. Working until late that night, for Shatalov the pot boiled over when the cosmonauts' commander, General Nikolai Kamanin, told them that a "recommendation" had been received from Soviet senior leadership for Soyuz 4/5 to dock automatically and not manually. The four cosmonauts objected, arguing that they had the piloting skills necessary and ought to be permitted to execute a manual docking. At length, Shatalov exploded: "Here we are, debating this for the tenth time," he is said to have raged, "whilst the Americans are orbiting the Moon!"
 
The question of whether to give cosmonauts active control of their ships had been hotly disputed since the early days of the Soviet space program. Kamanin frequently locked horns with Chief Designer Sergei Korolev over the issue and his memoirs—preserved in a series of diary entries, first published in 1995—revealed a tough, bitter military man who blamed his country's loss of the Moon race on Soviet engineers' unwillingness to yield control of a spacecraft to its crew.

[ronatu]

Automation, to be fair, was a key operating principle. Under the cover names of Cosmos 186 and 188, a pair of unmanned Soyuz spacecraft performed a rendezvous and docking exercise in October 1967.

Although they did not achieve a "hard" link-up—there remained a 3.3-inch gap between them, which prohibited full electrical connections—the mission showed that the Soviets had grasped rendezvous and docking with exciting possibilities for the future. Unfortunately, these flights did not end well.

Cosmos 186 suffered a failure of its solar-stellar sensor, which altered its descent trajectory into a purely ballistic fall from orbit. It landed hard, but in one piece, on Soviet soil.

Cosmos 188, on the other hand, re-entered the atmosphere at too steep an angle; so steep, in fact, that its self-destruct package had to be remotely triggered, spraying debris close to the Soviet-Mongolian border.

[ronatu]

Success finally came the following April, when two more Soyuz—this time under the cover names of Cosmos 212 and 213—rendezvoused automatically and successfully "hard" docked.

In the eyes of many cosmonauts and engineers, this cleared the way for a rendezvous, docking, and spacewalking flight later in 1968, involving Georgi Beregovoi aboard the "active" Soyuz 2 and Volynov, Yeliseyev, and Khrunov aboard the "passive" Soyuz 3. Sadly, it was not to be.

[ronatu]

Trials of the spacecraft's backup parachute were not deemed good enough to assign human pilots, and it was considered likely to rip during deployment with a crew of three and a total weight of up to 2,800 pounds.

Vasili Mishin, who assumed Korolev's mantle as Chief Designer in May 1966, proposed reducing the Soyuz 3 crew to two men to circumvent this risk and postponing the risky spacewalk to a later mission.

Others, including Mstislav Keldysh, head of the Soviet Academy of Sciences, were even more cautious, refusing to endorse any manned flights until another automated test had been successfully performed.

Their reluctance was understandable. The previous year, Soyuz 1 had been lost and its pilot, Vladimir Komarov, killed when both the primary and backup parachutes failed.


http://www.americaspace.org/?p=29185

[ronatu]

By the end of May 1968, a compromise was suggested by Mishin: two Soyuz would dock in orbit, one of them unmanned, the other carrying a single cosmonaut. Assuming the success of that flight, the next crews would attempt the transfer mission, perhaps as early as September.

Dmitri Ustinov, de facto head of all Soviet missile and space projects during this period, demanded a wholly automated flight. This would slip the intended August date for the manned mission until October at the earliest. On 10 June, the Soyuz State Commission convened and decided to launch the automated flight in July, followed by the joint mission with Beregovoi in September and the docking and spacewalk in November-December.

[ronatu]

To this, Ustinov added a proviso that the spacewalk should transfer not one, but two cosmonauts.
His request was borne out by Boris Volynov, whose work in a training version of the bulky space suit had revealed a major obstacle: a single spacewalker risked getting stuck in the hatchway between the Soyuz descent and orbital modules.

Moreover, if he then experienced difficulties getting outside, there would be no one to help him. The commander, in the sealed-off descent module, would be unable to assist, making a pair of spacewalkers—Yeliseyev and Khrunov, capable of supporting each other—the only safe and practical option.

[ronatu]

For a time, it had been thought prudent to adopt a so-called "2+2″ profile, whereby only one of the spacewalkers would actually perform the external transfer and both missions would return to Earth with crews of two. This neatly avoided the risk of bringing a Soyuz back to Earth with three men and a potentially dangerous parachute situation. By the end of September 1968, however, it seemed that the parachute woes had been resolved and the original plan for both Yeliseyev and Khrunov to spacewalk over to the other craft was reinstated.
 
In the meantime, Cosmos 238 was launched late in August and apparently conducted at least one major manoeuvre before touching down after a near-flawless four-day flight.

Finally, on 25 October, the unmanned Soyuz 2 was launched, followed by Beregovoi aboard Soyuz 3 the next day. During his mission, the cosmonaut managed to rendezvous with his automated target, but did not physically dock with it; a peculiarity which perplexed Western observers for many years. The Soviets explained that on their first manned flight after the Soyuz 1 disaster, they did not want to subject Beregovoi to any undue risk. However, in a 2002 interview, quoted by Rex Hall and Dave Shayler in their book Soyuz: A Universal Spacecraft, cosmonaut and spacecraft designer Konstantin Feoktistov accused Beregovoi of committing "the grossest error" by failing to notice that Soyuz 2's orientation was mismatched with that of his own craft.
This caused Soyuz 3 to "bank" 180 degrees relative to the target, despite the cosmonaut's best efforts to counter it.
 
Suspicion that the Igla rendezvous device might have been to blame was vigorously denied by its designer, Armen Mnatsakanyan, and Feoktistov agreed that it was simply a classic case of pilot error. Beregovoi's failure to notice the orientation mismatch with Soyuz 2 caused him to waste "all the fuel intended for the ship docking" and forced managers to cancel the remainder of the rendezvous. Years later, in his book Challenge to Apollo, historian Asif Siddiqi postulated that if the cosmonaut had recognised the problem and managed to stabilise Soyuz 3 along a direct axis to the target, he might still have achieved a successful docking.

[ronatu]

....................

http://www.americaspace.org/?p=29185

[ronatu]

Продолжение...

http://www.americaspace.org/?p=29190

[ronatu]

For Volynov, the implications of this were potentially catastrophic.
 
Under normal circumstances, six seconds after retrofire, a series of pyrotechnics should have sheared the two apart, enabling the bell-shaped descent module to adopt its correct re-entry orientation, with the heavily protected base facing into the direction of travel to shield Volynov from the brunt of 5,000°C frictional heat. For this reason, the base was coated with a six-inch thickness of ablative material, half of which was designed to char, melt, and peel away during re-entry, safeguarding the descent module from the heat flux. Unfortunately, the final half-hour of Soyuz 5 was far from normal.
 
With the instrument module still in place, the base's thermal shield was covered, unable to fulfil its purpose, and, worse still, the combined spacecraft was forced to adopt the most aerodynamically stable orientation—with the "dome" of the heavy descent module and its thin hatch facing into the direction of travel and about to feel the full force of a searing hypersonic re-entry. Unlike the base, the top of the descent module was coated with just an inch of ablator. Since the heat of re-entry was predicted to char away at least three times as much off the base, a re-entry in this attitude would likely end in catastrophe.
 
At 10:32 am, Stockholm radio analyst Sven Grahn and his colleague Chris Wood, based in Fiji, noted that shortwave communications signals from Soyuz 5 had abruptly stopped; an instant "normally assumed to be the time of separation of the instrument module, and in all probability it was the time when the separation pyros fired." On his website, http://www.svengrahn.pp.se, Grahn noted that the electrical connections had separated between the orbital and instrument modules ... but not their mechanical connections. Aboard Soyuz 5, Volynov heard the pyrotechnics fire, but was stunned when he glanced through his window to see the solar panels and whip antennas of the still-attached instrument module. According to Grahn, the cosmonaut reported what he saw "through some coded radio channel" to ground controllers. This was probably done on shortwave, since he was out of VHF range with the Soviet Union at the time.
 
When they realised what had happened—or, more accurately, what had not happened—several flight controllers buried their faces in their hands. One officer removed his cap, dropped three rubles into it and passed it along the line; within minutes, it had filled with coins for Volynov's young family. The cosmonaut was effectively plummeting back to Earth, nose-first, with the least-protected section of his craft exposed to the greatest thermal stress. Moreover, he was exposed to G forces in excess of nine times their normal terrestrial load. Against such overwhelming odds, it seemed that Boris Volynov's fate was sealed.
 
Not until 1996, almost three decades after the event, was he finally able to speak publicly about what happened during that terrifying final half-hour. Rather than being pushed back into his couch, as would be expected in a normal, base-first re-entry, Volynov was "pulled" outward against his harnesses. Yet he still managed to repeat "no panic, no panic" over and over. In what he assumed would be the final minutes of his life, he continued to report his status into an on-board voice recorder and even tore the last few pages from his rendezvous notebook, jamming them into his pockets, in the vain hope that they might somehow escape incineration

[ronatu]

Fr om his couch, he could only watch helplessly as tongues of flame licked at the descent module's windows and washed over the cabin. The thin hatch, directly in front of his eyes, visibly bulged inwards under the tremendous heat and pressure. All of Soyuz 5's hydrogen peroxide propellant had been expended shortly after the onset of re-entry, when the automated systems struggled fruitlessly to orient the descent module. Gradually, the intense heat—a heat which Volynov, clad only in a light flight garment, rather than a pressurized suit, could physically feel—began to melt the gaskets which sealed the hatch and the cabin started to fill with noxious fumes. He clearly heard a roar as the propellant tanks in the instrument module exploded, together with a prolonged and disturbing grinding sound as the stresses of deceleration took their toll on the unusual configuration.
 
"Through it all," wrote Asif Siddiqi in Challenge to Apollo, "there were terrifying moments. Once, there was a sharp clap, indicating that the propellant tanks ... had blown apart with such force that the crew hatch was forced inwards and then upwards like the bottom of a tin can ... "
 
At length, thankfully, the struts holding the instrument module severed, and the two modules separated and the descent module's offset center of mass caused it to assume a base-first orientation. It tumbled violently as it fell ballistic. The descent ended at 11:08 am with a touchdown close to Orenburg, hundreds of miles off-target, in the snowy Ural Mountains.
 
Despite having endured and survived one of the space program's most terrifying re-entries, the cosmonaut's ordeal was not over. Heat damage and the tumbling had caused Soyuz 5's parachute lines to entangle and, as a result, their canopies only partially inflated. Moreover, one of the solid-fuelled soft-landing rockets in the module's base failed to fire, resulting in a particularly hard touchdown—so hard, in fact, that Volynov was torn from his couch and thrown across the cabin, breaking several teeth. As the noise and vibration of the last half-hour was replaced by the absolute silence, stillness, and bitter cold of a late winter's morning in the Urals, he could reflect on how lucky he was to be alive.
 
The temperature outside was close to -40°C and the superheated metallic surfaces of the spacecraft now hissed in the snow. Volynov knew that he was far from his planned landing site and would have to wait several hours for rescue. On the other hand, spending hours in Soyuz 5 in sub-zero conditions would mean certain death. He clambered outside and, spitting blood and bits of teeth into the snow as he went, set off in the direction of a distant column of smoke until he reached a peasant's cottage, wh ere he took refuge, knowing that the rescue party would find the spacecraft and then follow the "tracks" of his bootprints and blood.
 
Through a mouthful of broken teeth, the traumatised Volynov had just four words for them: "Is my hair gray?"

[ronatu]

[ааа]

Ронату, а можно вкратце описать, о чем ваша загадочная тема?
А то, сдается мне, вы глумитесь над людьми, измученными новогодними каникулами.

[SFN]

ronatu пишет:
Неужели реальных снимков нет???

Из книги Сыромятникова.