Lunar lander rises on Earth
BEVERLY, Wash. — Houston, we have a project. Technically, it is not a starship, but it certainly has proved quite the enterprise.
Kurt Hughes has designed and built his very own livable lunar lander, perched on an acre of peaceful Washington terrain.
Hughes launched his mission about 10 years ago: His youngest daughter, Kiku, attended space camp, so he printed her a lunar-module graphic, and then Apollo 13 astronaut Fred Haise signed it. (The graphic, now framed, hangs in a spot of honor just inside the lander’s portal.)
“I never have seen anyone living in a lunar lander,” Hughes said. “They’re mostly uninhabitable. But Haise said to my daughter, ‘The one we took was pretty comfortable.’ ”
Hughes is a naval architect whose Seattle company, Kurt Hughes Sailing Designs, caters to comfortable. “If you go to Maui, about half the tour-boat catamarans are my designs,” he said.
With the lunar lander, though, Hughes saw a space challenge.
“Typically, an architect can look at a building and understand what’s going on,” he said. “I looked at the lunar lander and couldn’t figure it out. While it always was, ‘Don’t just do a box, like almost everybody else,’ this is a proof of concept for building a house like a modern boat is built.”
Practically, Hughes said, the lander “will be a weekend getaway, especially for creative work, and for the kids to visit the Gorge events.” (He lives in Seattle with his wife, Eugenia; they have two grown daughters: Mariko and Kiku.)
Structurally, Hughes envisioned “a habitable dwelling with the latest marine composite technology, providing creature comforts with low impact on the land and high amazement factor.”
This is no tiny house that vaguely resembles something space-y, fellow Earthlings. This is a “retrofuturist” and officially permitted lunar-lander tiny house (total weight, less than 3,000 pounds; total square footage, 250).
“It’s technically a hexagon,” Hughes said. “The intent is that it’s cool from every side.”
Six stretchy cables act as tethers; three spidery steel legs attach to reinforced concrete pads; and a fourth stabilizer holds the 12 solar-lighted steps that lead to the front door, which, naturally, has a porthole. On the other side, under a sun-shading array of photovoltaic panels: a deck for two, perfect for watching the Columbia River roll on.
Inside, on the main level (an airy, open space with “external modules for the bath, galley, breakfast nook and storage”), a clear, geodesic dome overhead lets “light stream in, down, all around,” Hughes said. Down the interior ship’s ladder: “a soft lounging pit and bed” (and required fire egress). All systems go away, tucked in the hexagonal ring under the living space.
The work (and ingenuity) is staggering:
■ Eliminating “the need for old-style nail framing,” Hughes built his own structural insulated panels. “I pioneered using Ziploc Space Bags for vacuumbagging smaller SIPs,” he said. “A Shop-Vac, bubble pak and Poly Tarp are all that is needed.”
■ Epoxy coats every part. he said: “Epoxy keeps everything dry, and mold cannot get a foothold.” (He created a phosphorescent epoxy floor for the bathroom — so aglow, it “rarely needs nightlights.”)
■ While saving space (the toilet tank is only 3 inches wide), Hughes also prioritized energy savings, with a quarter-ton ductless heat pump, air-to-air heat exchanger, and “stateof-the-art marine 12-volt electrical systems and LED” lighting.
Hughes has taken giant steps for do-ityourselfers-kind, but his lander remains an active exploration.
“At some point, I’ll be done enough,” he said. “When I’m 85 and sitting in that captain’s window and sipping absinthe.”