Finding My Virginity: The New Autobiography

by Richard Branson

  “Sam,” I said proudly, “at this very minute WhiteKnightTwo is soaring sixty thousand feet in the air above Mojave, waiting to release SpaceShipTwo. If this test goes well, it could be us in that spaceship very soon.”

  The phone signal crackled as another email from George flashed up on my iPad.

  “Dad?” As I stopped speaking, Sam sensed something was wrong.

  “Sam? Sam, I’ve got to go. Something’s happened. I love you.”

  From: George Whitesides

  To: Richard Branson

  10/31/2014 10:17 AM

  Bad day. The spaceship seems to be lost. I don’t know status of pilots. I will report more when I get more information.

  I felt a sickening sensation. I was overwhelmed by different feelings: sadness, confusion and adrenaline took over. After staring at the screen for what seemed an eternity, but must have been just a few seconds, I made a decision and punched in my reply.

  From: Richard Branson

  To: George Whitesides

  10/31/2014 10:18 AM

  So so sorry. Will be with you as soon as I can. On my way.

  “There’s been an accident in Mojave,” I shouted to Helen, rushing out of the Temple. “We’ve got to go right away.” Ducking through Halloween party decorations as I went, we scrambled for our bags and passports and jumped in a speedboat in a matter of minutes. I promised to phone on the way to Mojave to find out what more information the team had managed to gather, so I could prepare for what I would be confronted with when I arrived.

  I didn’t know what had happened, but I knew I needed to be there. We didn’t know what we were facing, but I knew we would face it together.

  About two minutes after SpaceShipTwo was released, it had broken apart in midair, traveling at supersonic speeds. At this point we did not know if Scaled’s pilots were alive or dead. We also had no idea what it meant for Virgin Galactic and our space program. All I knew was that I needed to be with our team. As our plane took off from Tortola, I sent out a message: “Thoughts with all @virgingalactic & Scaled, thanks for all your messages of support. I’m flying to Mojave immediately to be with the team.”

  As I raced over to the US, George was already bringing the Virgin Galactic staff together in Mojave: he showed extraordinary leadership to rally the shattered morale and broken hearts of hundreds of staff who had seen the incident. At the same time, the National Transportation Safety Board (NTSB) was also on their way to begin their investigation into the incident. I wondered what I could possibly say or do to help in this desperate situation. As I landed on the way in Miami to refuel, I was desperate for more information and keen to gather my thoughts before arriving at the Spaceport. Mike Moses, the Head of Operations, was being drip-fed details from emergency responders and Scaled in Mission Control, as well as from Dave Mackay in WhiteKnightTwo. At one point when the team was huddled together, the good news came through that Dave and WhiteKnightTwo were OK. From the window the team could see the mothership landing—it was like a long-lost friend coming home. Mike ran out of the room and gave Dave an emotional welcome back to Earth.

  As we entered the Mojave airspace, I was all too aware we were flying through the same area SpaceShipTwo had flown for the last time just hours before. I stepped off the plane a few meters from our FAITH hangar, while the press already hovered nearby. George and Christine ran out to meet us, and before my feet touched the ground Helen and I hugged them tight: the first tears of the day.

  When I walked into FAITH, I immediately went to spend time with the Virgin Galactic and Scaled teams, who were watching on.

  Rick “CJ” Sturckow had been in the chase plane following the spaceship. He had the best view of SpaceShipTwo’s breakup, but couldn’t be certain what had happened. He told us that one pilot’s parachute had definitely opened—later we learned it was Pete Siebold’s—and he had followed it down, praying the pilot was alive. Pete had been thrown out of the spaceship still strapped to his seat as it broke up around him, and somehow floated free of the falling debris. He fell for 25,000 feet, unconscious as he tumbled through the sky. Shaking himself awake, he had the presence of mind to unstrap himself, flying free of the seat, which automatically opened his parachute.

  CJ’s main priority was to be able to give the coordinates of the landing, so any potential rescue could take place as quickly as possible. However, knowing that nobody had ever survived an incident like this at such speed and height, he was far from hopeful. He watched the figure falling, falling through the air underneath a bright red parachute, a tiny dot on the blue horizon. But then, miraculously, he saw Pete lift his right fist in the air, signaling that, against all expectations, he was still breathing, still moving and still fighting to live. Pete landed with an almighty bump: his shoulder was broken and he was badly shaken, but, unbelievably, he was alive. First responders raced to the scene using CJ’s coordinates, and Pete was rushed to Antelope Valley Hospital. Pete was one of the first people in history to walk away from a supersonic accident. To be involved in an in-air vehicle breakup at those speeds and that height, and live to tell the tale, is nothing short of a miracle. He is a true survivor.

  We would have to wait for the large amount of footage recorded from inside the cockpit to fully determine exactly what had happened. I went over to see the NTSB team in a neighboring hangar. They told us what the ground rules were, how they would behave and how we should behave, what we could say and what we couldn’t say. We agreed we would open up very clear communications channels on both sides and cooperate fully with the investigation, which could take up to a year.

  I spoke to the NTSB chairman Christopher A. Hart and told him: “From our point of view, all that matters is we do everything we can for the pilots and their families. Then it is obviously crucial we get to the bottom of what happened so we can learn from it—the sooner the better.”

  By now, first responders were on the site where the spaceship had crashed, with news helicopters flying overhead beaming the wreckage into millions of homes around the world. It quickly became clear that our worst fears had been realized—co-pilot Mike Alsbury had not survived the accident. It was believed he had been killed instantly inside the spaceship as it broke apart, and was still strapped into his seat when he was found on the desert floor. Everyone looked around at each other, inconsolable at the news.

  I stepped away from FAITH for a little while and met Sam, who had arrived from Philadelphia.

  “I’m so sorry, Dad,” he said, as I clung to him for a big hug. It was so, so good to have him there.

  “Thanks for coming. I don’t know what we can do to help, but let’s do whatever we can.”

  We went back into FAITH to visit the Virgin Galactic team and I could see on people’s faces that some of them were really struggling, mourning the loss of Mike Alsbury, as well as the loss of the spaceship. They had all stood outside in the morning sun with high hopes for the test, and watched as their dreams had seemingly broken up before their eyes.

  The NTSB showed us the first photo of SpaceShipTwo’s engine and fuel tanks intact on the ground. Based on that, we knew for certain that the engine, rocket and fuel tanks had not blown up. Contrary to already surfacing, highly unsavory media reports, there was no explosion—the rocket motor had nothing to do with the accident.

  I went back in to see the Virgin Galactic staff. I knew my job was to lift morale and thank them for everything that they had achieved so far. Sometimes being calm and strong is the only choice. In situations like this I am always worried how my body is going to react. In critical moments such as the one in Mojave, the crucial thing is to hold yourself together and try to avoid breaking down. Fortunately, I managed to stay relatively composed in front of the team. The thing is to not think selfishly, put yourself in other people’s shoes and try to do your best for them. Sometimes you have to rely on sheer emotion.

  “I think we all need to have
the biggest hug in the world,” I said.

  Some people are religious, some people are spiritual and some are neither. But a hug is something that everybody can appreciate. We stood there in the middle of the hangar, where SpaceShipTwo had been a mere hours before, and had a massive group hug. It served its purpose, lifting everybody’s spirits just enough to get us through the rest of the day.

  But even as I could feel the warmth and release of tension in the hangar, I couldn’t switch off the question that was nagging away in the back of my mind. Catching the eye of some of the others, I knew I wasn’t alone in having the same thought.

  What next?

  What happens now?

  CHAPTER 34

  Moving On

  I needed to let the world know as much as I could possibly share about what had happened to SpaceShipTwo, although we were constrained by the NTSB investigation. Nevertheless, I felt the need to call a press conference to address the incident. That was easier said than done, as there wasn’t a free room for the session to take place. Then Sam went into the back of the hangar and found a small podium. He and Tom Westray from Galactic picked it up and carried it over to the gravel car park. The media quickly stuck their recorders on top, and, with the desert as a backdrop, the press conference began.

  The NTSB gave their first statement, presenting their initial findings and clearly stating that the rocket motor had been found intact on the ground. Then George Whitesides stood up and put our feelings across perfectly: “Space is hard, and today was a tough day. We are going to be supporting the investigation as we figure out what happened today, and we’re going to get through it. The future rests, in many ways, on hard days like this. But we believe we owe it to the folks who were flying these vehicles as well as the folks who have been working so hard on them to understand this and to move forward, which is what we’ll do.”

  Next it was my turn and I took a piece of paper with my scribbled notes on it up to the podium. Normally, I ad-lib, but on this occasion I wanted to get my words exactly right, especially considering the rules the NTSB had understandably laid down. I echoed George’s thoughts and also shared my own, determined that we would learn from what had happened. “In testing the boundaries of human capabilities and technologies, we are standing on the shoulders of giants. Yesterday, we fell short. I truly believe that humanity’s greatest achievements come out of our greatest pain. This team is a group of the bravest, brightest, most determined and most resilient people I have ever had the privilege of knowing. We are determined to honor the bravery of the pilots and teams here by learning from this tragedy. Only then can we move forward, united behind a collective desire to push the boundaries of human endeavor.”

  After the first press conference, and in the following days, we were still not permitted to share details of what had caused the accident, due to the continuing NTSB investigation. The people who knew weren’t able to talk. The people who didn’t know, meanwhile, were talking wildly: certain sections of the media sprang into action with all kinds of false and irresponsible reporting. We were astonished at how a few people with no information at all on the subject could be repeatedly wheeled out as supposed experts across all major media.

  I felt hurt, though I’m old enough and ugly enough to handle it. But I was devastated for our dedicated team who had to deal with all manner of sensationalist and unfounded accusations while they grieved the loss of Mike Alsbury and tried to make sense of losing SpaceShipTwo. Before there was even time for Virgin Galactic to provide a statement with the information we had so far, a local blogger falsely claimed to have seen SpaceShipTwo’s engine sputter and fail to perform. This was completely untrue, but contributed to a growing story that the rocket technology was to blame.

  Many of the press swallowed this whole, with this widely shared Associated Press tweet a typical example: “BREAKING: Witness reports SpaceShipTwo exploded in flight after ignition of rocket, crashed in desert.” Fantastical accusations grew to a crescendo in the coming days, and I was disgusted at the way a test flight accident turned into open season for desultory cheap shots. Some of the press even claimed Scaled had “no license” and “no rocket” to operate with, which was clearly false, as Scaled had been granted an experimental permit from the FAA and completed a series of successful rocket-powered test flights. Journalists got many details wrong, such as claiming the vehicle was being made out of metal rather than carbon composite.

  Most galling was the attempt by some in the press to cast doubt on Virgin Galactic’s absolute commitment to safety. One journalist insinuated all of our engineers had told him the project was dangerous and claimed many of the team had walked out. He said the crash that caused Mike Alsbury’s tragic death was “predictable and inevitable;” it was neither.

  In my opinion, 99 percent of the press are very good, research their stories well, check facts and serve an incredibly important purpose for society. They keep people honest, hold them to account, let the public know about exciting new innovations and protect freedom of speech. On this occasion, a few armchair critics who had no firsthand knowledge of the accident made baseless, defamatory and malicious claims. I perhaps wouldn’t have minded so much if these falsehoods were well written or well argued. Instead, rather than approaching Queen’s Counsel to sue, some of the articles seemed to me to warrant a complaint to the Society for the Protection of the English Language! But my time and energy were much better spent supporting the Virgin Galactic team through this most difficult period.

  Rushing back home to Necker from Mojave to host a fundraising event for Virgin Unite, I broke out of the discussions to do a series of press interviews regarding the future of Virgin Galactic and the nature of the accident. The UK press, in particular, continued to be extremely hostile—it felt like open season for anybody who wanted to get in some cheap shots. Jon Snow attacked me live on Channel 4 for being back on Necker and was incredibly antagonistic in his questioning.

  “I find it very insulting, the whole tone of your questions,” I said, as Jon seemed to be ignoring the NTSB’s evidence by continuing to cross-examine me about the rocket motor and engine. “I respect you enormously normally. I have no respect at all for the way you are conducting this interview. But anyway, I will answer your questions.”

  I was fully transparent, repeating again and again how Virgin Galactic was an extraordinary company trying to do things no business had done before.

  —

  In the days and weeks after the accident we used our social media channels to act as an instant press-release service, effectively getting our side of the story across to millions of people. Even so, I opened up my iPad several times a day to see articles and hear interviews of increasing unpleasantness. Time magazine wrote it was “angry, even disgusted” with me personally and claimed, that “a Virgin crash always seemed troublingly likely.” They called me “a man driven by too much hubris, too much hucksterism and too little knowledge of the head-crackingly complex business of engineering.” (I’m no rocket scientist and have never pretended to be—but I have hired the world’s finest.)

  A month earlier, the Daily Mail proudly displayed the headline “The only thing Branson has fired into space is his ego;” now they really went for the jugular. One of the problems with this coverage was that, even as new evidence emerged, the initial falsities remained in the public consciousness.

  The investigators were very angry about the standards of reporting and called a press conference to make clear that the rocket had not exploded and the engine and fuel tanks were intact on the ground. When they concluded their initial investigations, their findings confirmed that Scaled co-pilot Mike Alsbury had unlocked the feathering system lever too early. By design, at the appropriate point when the spaceship was traveling at Mach 1.4 on its ascent toward space, the co-pilot would pull a handle that unlocked the tail. As Scaled’s previous tests had proven, aerodynamic pressures would push down on the tail and ma
intain its usual position aligned with the wings. Later, once the rocket burn was over and the spaceship was floating in space at very low speeds, another handle would be pulled by the pilots to move the feathering system into play. This would move the tail into its feathered position and allow the spaceship to glide down to Earth as smoothly as a shuttlecock. It had to be deployed when the spaceship reached the correct speed, height and angle; otherwise it had the opposite effect of destroying the vehicle rather than keeping it safe.

  On this occasion, however, Mike had unlocked the tail well before the spaceship was at the correct vertical angle. Rather than aerodynamic forces pressing down to keep the tail in position, they pushed up and made the tail fly upward. This caused SpaceShipTwo to flip violently over backward and break apart in midair: reading the findings, it was desperately sad to think that Mike’s mistake had contributed to his death, and the loss of SpaceShipTwo. As this information spread to the press, it was amazing how it was dismissed in some quarters in favor of the more sensational angle of an explosion, which would be more damaging to Virgin Galactic’s credibility.

  Having realized that they had made a mistake about exploding rockets and engines, some of the press tried a new angle: they falsely wrote that I faced a serious investigation into spending the deposits of future astronauts. Some of the press also claimed the majority of our customers would want a refund. The Daily Mail, meanwhile, reported that I was facing “a backlash” from restless customers. In fact, we had not spent any of our future astronauts’ deposits. They are deliberately held separately from operating funds; any customer is entitled to a full refund at any time. Only a tiny fraction of our more than 700 customers have ever asked for a refund—those who have done so received their money back immediately. In the days after the SpaceShipTwo incident, we expected a number of future astronauts to get cold feet. On the contrary, very few people have canceled their tickets. In fact, on the very day of the accident, two individuals actually signed up for tickets to space as a gesture of goodwill—it was a huge confidence boost for us all.