Sauntering Vaguely Downward

This is a Zero Centurion Elite flight case. It was used to transport the Flight Model (FM) harness assembly for Cassini’s magnetometer to NASA’s Jet Propulsion Laboratory back in the 1990s. It has a three-numeral combination lock embedded into it. The last time this combination was opened was at least four years ago. I watched my then-boss, Steve (now retired), open the lock, show me the case internals, and then lock it again.

I remember chuckling at the combination.


(Not the combination).

You can see where this is going, I assume.

I was supposed to “deal with” the case some time ago, but other things kept taking priority. Then I left the lab. Then Covid happened.

Finally I made my recent trip down to the lab. I extracted the case from beneath the pile of stuff that had accumulated on top of it. I looked at the combination lock. I tried the obvious combinations (000, 123, 666, etc). Did any of those work? Of course not.

Here is a list of other things that didn’t work.

• Swearing
• Talking through the scenario four years ago with my ex-boss in the hopes of jogging my memory
• Wiggling a screwdriver in the gap between the lid and the body of the case whilst trying random combinations
• Wiggling a screwdriver in the gap between the lid and the body of the case whilst methodically going through every possible combination of three-digit numbers
• Drinking wine
• Watching YouTube videos about picking combination locks on suitcases and trying to hear or feel the difference in the clicks between numbers
• Discovering that three of the numbers (6,6, and 6) had black lines drawn under them, presumably to remind everyone of the combination (PS I KNEW IT)
• Drinking gin
• Applying graphite to the rotating number wheels
• Applying whisky to the humans
• Trying 666 with the screwdriver trick while swearing and wiggling a screwdriver in the gap
• Trawling the internet for clues about how to pick Zero Centurion (which later became Halliburton) locks, finding many blog posts about how to reset it from the inside if you already know the combination
• Giving it a firm whack

Here is what did work.

• This blog post, dug up by friend-who-is-not-in-the-journalsphere-any-more whose Google-fu is mightiest
• Following its instructions and tapping out the hinge pin with a small punch and a hammer, then extracting it with pliers

PS It is empty apart from foam padding but I didn't fancy taking it to the post office and, upon being asked what was inside, answering "I don't know!"

My boss and I have begun the sad task of sorting through and either saving, re-purposing, or throwing out thirty-odd years of accumulated Cassini information. Today I found these newspaper clippings on my desk. He discovered them last night and thought I’d want them. He was right.


From The Orlando Sentinel, 16 October 1997. “Next stop for Cassini: Saturn: Probe’s long journey will keep scientists and critics waiting”

( +4 )

I didn’t know Cassini’s launch had attracted protesters due to its plutonium power source. Their signs...! “I don’t want to glow in the dark” is my favourite. I also wonder who sent these clippings to the MAG team, or if my boss had collected them himself. Must remember to ask him when he’s in next.

On a less sad note, here is an item that has been re-purposed! This is a mu-metal can, used to test magnetic field sensors. It isolates the sensor from the Earth’s magnetic field, so the sensor can be calibrated. This can was used when Cassini was being built, to test the Vector Helium Magnetometer (VHM). We will now use it in the lab to test the JUICE magnetometer sensors.


Mu metal can has a rather spiffy casing and even a handle to make it easy to carry (they’re heavy!). My feet included in the photo for scale.

( +1 )

This post continues the homage to the Huntington Library and Gardens with a sample of the library displays. These are a mere fraction of what the library itself actually archives, although one needs a vetted research proposal in order to gain full access to its contents.

We begin with, er, light bulbs. Because if you were absurdly wealthy, why wouldn’t you amass a collection of historic lightbulbs.


“The Huntington’s collection of historical lamps consists of nearly 400 light bulbs, about half of which are on display here. The light bulbs range from the 1890s to the 1960s. They include examples of the variety of bases, filaments and globes in use before the development of current incandescent and fluorescent light bulbs.”

( More light bulbs and then some actual, y'know, books )

Hear ye, hear ye: on the evening of Tuesday 10 October, you can come to Imperial College London and meet some Cassini scientists and engineers. Well, OK, one engineer (that would be me). Imperial are hosting a Fringe event titled “A Space Odyssey” in celebration of the Cassini end of mission, and there are lots of things to see, including me reminiscing about Cassini operations whilst waving around tiny magnetometers, and do, including making your own thin film paper spacecraft. Read all about what's on offer here.

Book yourself a free ticket here.

If you come along, you can see this beauty without all the reflective glare:

Image of the 1/25 scale Cassini model in its newly procured perspex box for display at the Fringe.

In other space news, ESA have conducted a helicopter test on the radar boom that will be on the JUICE spacecraft, to ensure that it will be able to penetrate Ganymede’s ice crust. You can read about, and watch a video of, the tests here. (Synopsis: Big Metal Box and Poles get waved over fields in Germany, serious-faced blokes on the ground don’t seem to find anything funny about this, pfft.)

Thursday was meant to be a quiet day, since we all knew we had to be up and at Caltech by 4 AM for the thing we’d all been preparing for: the actual end of mission.

In reality, there were some impromptu science meetings at Caltech, one of which I attended in the morning. I slipped out just before noon, because I had someone to meet.

I headed down from Beckman to South Mudd to see my former JPL postdoctoral supervisor, from back in those heady days when I was still a lab scientist, for lunch. I hadn’t seen him since 2006. I eventually remembered where his Caltech office was. I could’ve found the JPL one much more easily, but it would have required me to check in and get a badge, which seemed a lot of faff for lunch. Besides, there are nicer places to eat in Pasadena. Once in the correct corridor, I spotted his technician hovering outside the door, plus another UK person from the physical chemistry community whom I’d never met but knows the bloke pretty well. There were lots of smiles and hugs, and we decided to head down to a restaurant over on Lake Street.

We had a very pleasant hour of conversation, reminiscing and catching up. I had a shock on hearing that their children, whom I remembered as children or young teenagers, were now grown up and had careers of their own. Of course I knew that would have happened in the intervening decade-plus, but it’s not until you actually speak together about these things that they’re driven home to you. They were equally shocked on learning that Humuhumu has started school - and has a younger sibling! The bloke and I had been remiss in our communication, clearly. We talked of science, of course, and of politics and its effects on research direction, and of our worries about the future due to Brexit and the current US administration.

I am still kicking myself for forgetting to take a photo. You must instead picture me with a group of men: one starting to disappear into the frailty of old age, peering out earnestly from large-framed glasses, one solid and grey-haired and mostly silent with twinkling blue eyes, and one cheeky-grinned middle-aged bear of a chap with a shock of brown hair and a beard. All sitting together in a booth of a Japanese restaurant, eagerly shoveling the contents of bento boxes into our faces, occasionally bursting into roars of laughter while cheesy ‘90s music played in the background.

We parted with promises not to let another eleven years pass before we met again. I was left with the warm glow you get from (re)connecting with friendly, kind, intelligent people. It was a lovely way to buffer against the excitement and strain of what was to come on Friday morning.


Chilling out in my JPL t-shirt before the end of mission.