Never let a tether feel tight: lessons from salvage tug training

For 12 years I flew Basilisk Salvage Tugs for a salvage firm in Oceania, clearing dead satellites, broken habitats and runaway cargo pods from the lanes around Earth and Luna. Now I teach Salvage Tug Operations on our orbital range near L5, and the first thing every cohort hears from me is this: never let a tether feel tight.

The Basilisk is a 118-metre, two-pilot tug with argon Hall-effect thrusters, a top speed of 190 km/s and the ability to tow 2,400 tonnes. It is not fast, but it does not need to be. Its job is to approach something that is out of control, grab it and make it safe. The danger is almost always in the tumble.

A derelict hull usually spins on more than one axis. If you grab it carelessly, its momentum flows into your tug through the tether, and a few seconds later you are tumbling too. So we teach students to study a target's motion for a long time before approaching, to match its rotation where possible, and to set tethers with slack so loads build gradually. De-spinning is done in small, patient pulses.

Our range uses retired hulls supplied by salvage partners, which we deliberately set tumbling at different rates. Students fly 80 simulator hours first, then 65 flight hours in the Basilisk, progressing from slow, simple spins to complex multi-axis tumbles. The check ride requires a full capture, de-spin, tow and controlled release into a disposal orbit.

The course is 10 weeks long and tuition is 94,000 credits, making it one of our most affordable type ratings. The first-time pass rate is 90 per cent. Graduates find work with salvage firms, mining cooperatives that need debris cleared from their lanes, and orbital traffic authorities.

Salvage is a job for patient people. The best salvage pilot I ever flew with spent an hour watching a dead satellite before touching it, and then captured it in a single pass. That is what I hope every graduate takes away.