Image: Jared Isaacman outside the Dragon capsule. Pic: SpaceX
It was delayed by around four hours earlier this morning – with no explanation given – before final safety checks of the spacesuits and equipment were carried out and SpaceX officials confirmed the mission was “go for spacewalk”.
First images broadcast from inside the Dragon capsule showed the four-strong crew preparing for the historic event – and sharing fist bumps with each other.
Image: The crew inside the Dragon capsule ahead of the scheduled spacewalk. Pic: SpaceX via AP
Image: Pic: SpaceX
Daredevil Jared Isaacman, 41, was the first to exit the capsule – joining a small, elite group of spacewalkers who until today had included only professional astronauts.
After opening the hatch, a body camera showed his ascent through the narrow opening before incredible footage showed the spacewalk taking place to huge cheers from mission control at Cape Canaveral.
“It’s gorgeous,” he said, in awe of what he could see, as he eased out of the spacecraft into the vacuum of space, hundreds of miles from Earth.
He kept a hand or foot attached to the capsule the whole time as he flexed his arms and legs to see how the new spacesuit held up.
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“The handsfree demonstration is very comparable to the trainer, in terms of the foot restraint,” he added, as he tested his spacesuit.
He had said before lift-off earlier this week: “Whatever risk is associated with it, it is worth it.”
“I wasn’t alive when humans walked on the moon,” he said. “I’d certainly like my kids to see humans walking on the moon and Mars, and venturing out and exploring our solar system.”
The tech entrepreneur blasted into space from Cape Canaveral in Florida before dawn on board a SpaceX Falcon 9 rocket on Tuesday for the five-day flight – along with mission pilot Scott Poteet, 50, a retired US Air Force lieutenant colonel, and SpaceX employees Sarah Gillis, 30, and Anna Menon, 38, both senior engineers at the company.
Ms Gillis followed Mr Isaacman out of the capsule on Thursday to carry out the same mobility tests.
The pair bobbed up and down in weightlessness, no higher than their knees out of the capsule.
Image: Astronauts from left, mission specialist Anna Menon, pilot Scott Poteet, commander Jared Isaacman and mission specialist Sarah Gillis. Pic: AP
The mission, called Polaris Dawn, to test a new line of spacesuits is the Elon Musk-led company’s riskiest mission yet – from a space capsule that doesn’t have a safety airlock, and in suits far slimmer than the bulky protective layers worn by NASA astronauts.
It is the first of three funded by Mr Isaacman – a pilot and the billionaire founder of electronic payment company Shift4.
He has refused to say how much he is paying for the missions, but they are believed to have cost hundreds of millions of dollars based on Crew Dragon’s roughly $55m (£42m) per-seat price for other flights.
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Ms Gillis could be heard saying “pretty good” as she carried out her spacewalk – before she followed Mr Isaacman back into the capsule, after being told what sounded like she had less than six minutes of oxygen supply left.
“Pressure indicates good seal,” mission control told the astronauts, reassuringly, as the hatch was shut again.
“That was really cool,” said one of the presenters on the SpaceX live stream.
Mr Menon and Mr Poteet remained inside the spacecraft during the spacewalk.
Only government astronauts with several years of training have done spacewalks in the past.
There have been around 270 on the International Space Station (ISS) since it was set up in 2000, and 16 by Chinese astronauts on Beijing’s Tiangong space station.
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We see the boat from a distance – the orange of the life jackets reflected in the rising sun.
And as we draw closer, we can make out dozens of people crowded on board as it sets off from the shore, from a beach near Dunkirk.
Image: .
There is no sign of any police activity on the shore, and there are no police vessels in the water.
Instead, the migrants crammed into an inflatable dinghy are being watched by us, on board a private boat, and the looming figure of the Minck, a French search and rescue ship that soon arrives.
Image: Minck, a French search and rescue ship, shadows the boat
The dinghy meanders. It’s not heading towards Britain but rather hugging the coast.
A few of the passengers wave at us cheerfully, but then the boat starts to head back towards the shore.
As it nears a different beach, we see a police vehicle – a dune buggy – heading down to meet it.
Normal practice is for French police officers to slice through the material of any of these small boats that end up back on shore.
Image: Sky’s Adam Parsons at the scene
Two police officers get out of the buggy and wait. A police helicopter arrives and circles above, performing a tight circle over the heads of the migrants.
The police think they might be about to go back on to the beach; in fact, these passengers know that most of them are staying put.
The boat stops a short distance from the shore and four people jump out. As they wade towards the beach, the boat turns and starts to head back out to sea.
We see the two police officers approach these four men and have a brief conversation.
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They don’t appear to check the bags they are carrying and, if they do question them about why they left the boat, it is the most cursory of conversations.
In reality, these people probably don’t speak French but they were almost certainly involved in arranging this crossing, which is against the law. But all four walk away, disappearing into the dunes at the back of the beach.
Donald Trump and a leading figure in the Israeli army have suggested a ceasefire in Gaza could be close.
Eyal Zamir, chief of staff of the Israel Defence Forces (IDF), told Israeli media that “conditions were created to advance a deal” to bring about an end to the conflict in the coastal territory, and the release of hostages.
In a televised address, he said: “We have achieved many significant results, we have caused great damage to the governance and military capabilities of Hamas.
“Thanks to the operational power that we have demonstrated, the conditions have been created to advance a deal to release the hostages.”
‘This week, or next’
It comes as the US president hosts Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu in Washington DC on a prolonged visit this week.
Mr Trump said his meetings with Mr Netanyahu were focused “on Gaza for the most part”.
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He said: “I think we have a chance [of a ceasefire] this week, or next week.”
However, the US leader added: “Not definitely,” saying nothing was certain about the situation in Gaza.
Image: Donald Trump speaks, as Pete Hegseth looks on, during a dinner with Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu.
Pic: Reuters
Image: Benjamin Netanyahu speaks during a bilateral dinner with Donald Trump this week.
Pic: Reuters
Hamas reiterates ‘keenness’ to end fighting
Meanwhile, Hamas has repeated its message that it is committed to the negotiations but warned of a number of sticking points despite the positive noises from senior Israeli figures.
In a statement, the militant group said: “In its keenness to succeed in the ongoing efforts, the movement [Hamas] has shown the necessary flexibility and agreed to release 10 prisoners.
“The key points remain under negotiation, foremost among them: the flow of aid, the withdrawal of the occupation from the territories of the Gaza Strip, and the provision of real guarantees for a permanent ceasefire.”
Mr Trump’s special envoy to the Middle East Steve Witkoff previously told a cabinet meeting that the anticipated ceasefire would last 60 days and involve the release of ten hostages and nine bodies.
A source close to the negotiations told Sky News that the hostage release would take place in two waves during the 60 days and was conditional on the ceasefire.
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While the politicians talk, so many people come from around the world to try to get across the Channel on small boats. But why?
Why make such a perilous crossing to try to get to a country that seems to be getting increasingly hostile to asylum seekers?
As the British and French leaders meet, with small boats at the forefront of their agenda, we came to northern France to get some answers.
It is not a new question, but it is peppered with fresh relevance.
Over the course of a morning spent around a migrant camp in Dunkirk, we meet migrantsfrom Gaza, Iraq, Eritrea, South Sudan, Sri Lanka and beyond.
Some are fearful, waving us away; some are happy to talk. Very few are comfortable to be filmed.
All but one man – who says he’s come to the wrong place and actually wants to claim asylum in Paris – are intent on reaching Britain.
They see the calm seas, feel the light winds – perfect conditions for small boat crossings.
John has come here from South Sudan. He tells me he’s now 18 years old. He left his war-torn home nation just before his 16th birthday. He feels that reaching Britain is his destiny.
“England is my dream country,” he says. “It has been my dream since I was at school. It’s the country that colonised us and when I get there, I will feel like I am home.
“In England, they can give me an opportunity to succeed or to do whatever I need to do in my life. I feel like I am an English child, who was born in Africa.”
Image: ‘England is my dream country,’ John tells Adam Parsons
He says he would like to make a career in England, either as a journalist or in human resources, and, like many others we meet, is at pains to insist he will work hard.
The boat crossing is waved away as little more than an inconvenience – a trifle compared with the previous hardships of his journey towards Britain.
We meet a group of men who have all travelled from Gaza, intent on starting new lives in Britain and then bringing their families over to join them.
One man, who left Gaza two years ago, tells me that his son has since been shot in the leg “but there is no hospital for him to go to”.
Next to him, a man called Abdullah says he entered Europe through Greece and stayed there for months on end, but was told the Greek authorities would never allow him to bring over his family.
Britain, he thinks, will be more accommodating. “Gaza is being destroyed – we need help,” he says.
Image: Abdullah says ‘Gaza is being destroyed – we need help’
A man from Eritreatells us he is escaping a failing country and has friends in Britain – he plans to become a bicycle courier in either London or Manchester.
He can’t stay in France, he says, because he doesn’t speak French. The English language is presented as a huge draw for many of the people we talk to, just as it had been during similar conversations over the course of many years.
I ask many of these people why they don’t want to stay in France, or another safe European country.
Some repeat that they cannot speak the language and feel ostracised. Another says that he tried, and failed, to get a residency permit in both France and Belgium.
But this is also, clearly, a flawed survey. Last year, five times as many people sought asylum in France as in Britain.
And French critics have long insisted that Britain, a country without a European-style ID card system, makes itself attractive to migrants who can “disappear”.
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Migrant Channel crossings hit new record
A young man from Iraq, with absolutely perfect English, comes for a chat. He oozes confidence and a certain amount of mischief.
It has taken him only seven days to get from Iraq to Dunkirk; when I ask how he has made the trip so quickly, he shrugs. “Money talks”.
He looks around him. “Let me tell you – all of these people you see around you will be getting to Britain and the first job they get will be in the black market, so they won’t be paying any tax.
“Back in the day in Britain, they used to welcome immigrants very well, but these days I don’t think they want to, because there’s too many of them coming by boat. Every day it’s about seven or 800 people. That’s too many people.”
“But,” I ask, “if those people are a problem – then what makes you different? Aren’t you a problem too?”
He shakes his head emphatically. “I know that I’m a very good guy. And I won’t be a problem. I’ll only stay in Britain for a few years and then I’ll leave again.”
A man from Sri Lanka says he “will feel safe” when he gets to Britain; a tall, smiling man from Ethiopia echoes the sentiment: “We are not safe in our home country so we have come all this way,” he says. “We want to work, to be part of Britain.”
Emmanuel is another from South Sudan – thoughtful and eloquent. He left his country five years ago – “at the start of COVID” – and has not seen his children in all that time. His aim is to start a new life in Britain, and then to bring his family to join him.
He is a trained electrical engineer, but says he could also work as a lorry driver. He is adamant that Britain has a responsibility to the people of its former colony.
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