Steve Eves broke two world records Saturday, when his 1/10th scale model of the historic rocket—built in his garage near Akron, Ohio—lifted off from a field on Maryland's Eastern Shore. The 36-ft.-tall rocket was the largest amateur rocket ever launched and recovered successfully—and at 1648 pounds, also the heaviest. Eves' single-stage behemoth was powered by nine motors—eight 13,000 Newton-second N-Class motors and a 77,000 Newton-second P-Class motor. (Five Newton-seconds is equivalent to about a pound of thrust.) All told, the array generated enough force to chuck a Volkswagen more than a half-mile—and sent the Saturn V more than 4440 feet straight up. It was arguably the most audacious display of raw power ever generated by an amateur rocket.
Steve Eves’ one-tenth scale model Saturn V, which flew April 25 in Maryland, is the largest and heaviest amateur rocket ever launched and recovered successfully.
Just before 1 p.m. on Saturday April 25, a Saturn V rocket carried one more man into history. Steve Eves broke two world records Saturday, when his 1/10th scale model of the historic rocket—built in his garage near Akron, Ohio—lifted off from a field on Maryland's Eastern Shore. The 36-ft.-tall rocket was the largest amateur rocket ever launched and recovered successfully—and at 1648 pounds, also the heaviest.
Eves' single-stage behemoth was powered by nine motors—eight 13,000 Newton-second N-Class motors and a 77,000 Newton-second P-Class motor. (Five Newton-seconds is equivalent to about a pound of thrust.) All told, the array generated enough force to chuck a Volkswagen more than a half-mile—and sent the Saturn V more than 4440 feet straight up. It was arguably the most audacious display of raw power ever generated by an amateur rocket. "I didn't start out to break records," the soft-spoken 50-year-old says. "I had just been working away, building it—and then one day I realized no one's ever pulled this off before."
The launch took place at Higgs Farm, near Price, Md., home field for the Maryland-Delaware Rocketry Association (MDRA). The MDRA has a history of generating headlines along with serious thrust: Eves broke records set here five years ago by the Liberty Project, a 24-ft.-tall rocket that weighed 1368 pounds. But as a testament to the camaraderie in the hobby, Neil McGilvray, one of Liberty Project's team leaders, packed the parachutes for Eves' Saturn V. "When something like this comes along," McGilvray says, "there's no competition."
Organizers anticipated a crowd of 1,000 for the historic day, but they may have gotten twice that. Enthusiasts arrived from nearby states like Pennsylvania—but also from places like Texas and California. One local church group carpooled out to the field, as did members of the New Hampshire Wing of the Civil Air Patrol. In fact, the launch, which had been scheduled for noon, was delayed because the crowd created a traffic jam that kept Eves from the launch pad.
Saturday's showing was all the more impressive because larger rockets have more potential points of failure. Something goes wrong with NASA's launches roughly 10 percent of the time, and they're supposed to be the very best in the business. In the buildup to Eves' launch, meanwhile, amateur enthusiasts had all but pronounced the world records a foregone conclusion. "You try to test everything you can think of," Eves said before the flight, "but this is amateur rocketry. Who knows what might happen?" As MDRA members like to say, "We have cool launches, and we have really cool launches. The cool ones are when everything goes according to plan."
Two years ago, Eves says, he began thinking back to his childhood—to the days teachers would roll a TV set into the classroom for the students to watch Apollo launches. He tracked down schematics for the 36-story-tall rocket on the Internet and in old NASA drawings. Then the man who spends his days as an auto-body repair specialist built a skeleton from seven-ply aircraft-grade plywood. He built the tubular skin from Luan plywood—nearly 300 square feet of it, according to Rockets magazine—and then coated it with fiberglass. He told Rockets it took more than six hours, and 14 gallons of resin, to apply all the fiberglass cloth. All told, the project cost about $25,000—including nearly $13,000 for the fuel alone, which burned up in less than 10 seconds Saturday.
The rest of his rocket will have a greater shelf life. NASA has already contacted Eves about displaying it at the U.S. Space & Rocket Center in Huntsville, Ala., beneath an original Saturn V. There was talk of relaunching it and setting more records—but after such a successful flight, Eves probably won't risk it. "It could be launched again," he told the Akron Beacon Journal, "but it's going to be retired and put on display so people can enjoy it."
The single stage rocket was assembled on the ground, then hoisted 70 ft. in the air by crane to be mounted as a single unit on the launch pad.
Bolts on the side of the 36-ft.-tall rocket slide through a metal guide rail on the launch pad, helping ensure vertical flight.
The rocket took approximately 1,500 hours to build—largely because of Eves’ attention to detail. Each quarter-inch-wide wooden rib sanded, glued and nailed in place, but the wood was so thin it would break if he just hammered away. Eves ultimately had to pre-drill each rib—more than 1,000 of them.
The nosecone of Eves’ rocket was signed by eight astronauts—including Jack Lousma, who wrote, “Don’t blow yourself up.” Standing in front of his project, the rocketeer said, “I’m nervous about just pushing the (ignition) button here. Can you imagine sitting on top of the real thing while somebody else pushes the button?”
More than 200 pounds of propellant—which, along with motor cases, cost $13,000—burned up in less than 10 seconds. Reports indicate the rocket reached an altitude of 4,441 ft. More detailed telemetry was downloaded in real time during the launch, and will keep the team busy for days.
At apogee, the rocket tipped over, initiating the recovery sequence. At bottom right, residue from the detonation of a small airbag is visible. The pyro device helped separate the top section of the rocket from the booster stage, freeing the parachutes.
One 35-ft.-dia. military surplus parachute carries the upper stage (bottom right) back to earth, while three others arrest the descent of the booster stage. A redundant fourth chute got tangled on deployment—about the only aspect of the launch that didn’t go exactly according to plan.
The rocket landed safely less than a mile away—with the booster stage upright, a rarity on launches. A crack—or “battle scar,” as the team described it—at the top is a reminder of the forces at play in the hobby, though the rocket could certainly be repaired if Eves decides to launch it again.
Even with no more heavy propellant, the 20-ft.-tall booster stage weighs about 1,000 pounds. Luckily, it missed the spectators’ cars parked nearby.
The force of the launch pushed the 1-ton launch pad back about 10 ft., and left an 18-in.-deep crater in the field. At top left, a volunteer holds what’s left of the “M” from the MDRA signage on the pad’s framework.
The blast shield, which had been mounted below the rocket, was scorched, buckled, and thrown 20 ft. away.
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