Space Station Leaks: Is It Time to Swim Yet?

Photography of a humorously patched-up space station, cartoonish astronauts with oversized tools, floating in space, colorful earth in background

With Russian parts on the fritz, the ISS may soon have its own pool. Dive into the quirky misadventures of an aging space marvel.

What is the meaning of life? Heck if I know, but I bet finding a leak in your 20-year-old space bathtub while orbiting Earth isn't it. As your local doomsayer and occasional writer, Jack Superblack, I can't help but ponder death when thinking about floating metal cans leaking precious air into the cosmic void.

Ah, the International Space Station, our celestial home away from home, has sprouted yet another leak. And NASA, well, they're more tight-lipped than my last date before she realized I write online obituaries for living. But truth be told, this new leak in the PrK module—it’s between some Russian tin cans up there—is getting worse.

Let's get the facts twisted, shall we? The ISS was probably built with the same care and consideration as my morning cereal choice—none. They've patched up parts that are older than the milk in my fridge, and at the rate of air leaking, I'm considering sending them my inflatable pool repair kit.

Currently, they're shedding air at a rate of "2.4 pounds of atmosphere a day". Folks, I've lost more air from my lungs just from the shock of waking up and realizing I'm still alive. And rumor—completely started by me—has it that NASA and Roscosmos (that's the Russian NASA, if you'd wondered) can't decide when ‘too much leak’ is really too much. It’s like deciding at what point you admit your vehicle is too old—when it starts, or when it ends?

In the grand dance of space bureaucracy, they're just now talking about maybe keeping that door shut. Permanently. From having four Russian docking ports to three. As I edge closer to the ever-tempting embrace of dark humor and the great beyond, I leave you with this thought: It’s lonely floating in space, but hey, at least you can't hear my existential screaming.

Remember folks, in space no one can hear you contemplate the existential dread of existence—or leak air like old plumbing. Signing off, maybe forever, Jack Superblack, questioning life choices and space engineering. Here’s to dying alone, hopefully not because of a space leak!

Based on the original article "An International Space Station Leak Is Getting Worse—and Keeping NASA Up at Night".