Space is rarely as quiet as the movies make it out to be. If you were floating inside the International Space Station (ISS) back in 2013, you wouldn't hear a vacuum. You’d hear the constant hum of fans, the thud of pumps, and the occasional frantic chatter of ground control. This was exactly the backdrop for the Expedition 33 energizing turn, a period that basically redefined how we handle power transitions in low Earth orbit. Most people think of space missions as a series of calm experiments with floating water droplets, but Expedition 33 was different. It was loud. It was high-stakes. And frankly, it was a bit of a technical nightmare that turned into a masterclass in orbital engineering.
Commander Sunita Williams was at the helm. Along with flight engineers Yuri Malenchenko and Aki Hoshide, she inherited a station that was, at the time, going through some serious growing pains. We’re talking about a multi-billion dollar tin can traveling at 17,500 miles per hour, and suddenly, the power grids started acting up.
What actually happened during the Expedition 33 energizing turn?
To understand the Expedition 33 energizing turn, you have to look at the Sequential Shunt Units (SSU). These are basically the ISS version of a high-tech circuit breaker. They regulate the power coming off those massive solar arrays. During this mission, one of the Main Bus Switching Units (MBSU) decided to quit. That’s not just a minor "the lights flickered" moment. It’s a "we might lose half the station's capability" moment.
The "turn" refers to the shift in operational energy and the literal physical maneuvers required to fix the external power hardware. Hoshide and Williams had to head outside for a spacewalk that ended up being one of the longest and most frustrating in NASA history.
💡 You might also like: World Time Zone Converter: What Most People Get Wrong About Global Scheduling
Why was it so hard?
Bolts. Simple, stupid bolts.
One specific bolt on the MBSU wouldn't seat properly. If they couldn't get it locked, the power couldn't flow. This wasn't some theoretical physics problem; it was a "bring me a bigger hammer" kind of problem. They were out there for hours, battling metal-on-metal friction in the vacuum of space. It’s funny, honestly. We spend billions on rocket fuel and orbital mechanics, yet the fate of the mission often comes down to whether a 40-year-old tool can turn a stubborn screw.
The technical reality of the power grid
The ISS power system is divided into eight channels. During the Expedition 33 energizing turn, the loss of a single switching unit meant that two of those channels were essentially dark. This forced the crew into a "power down" mode.
Imagine living in a house where you can’t use the microwave and the fridge at the same time or the whole place shuts off. Now, imagine that house is also keeping you alive in a frozen vacuum. They had to prioritize. Life support stayed on, obviously. But science experiments? Those got mothballed. The "energizing" part of the turn wasn't just about the electricity; it was about the frantic energy of the crew trying to stay ahead of a cascading system failure.
NASA engineers on the ground, specifically the folks in the Mission Control Center in Houston, were working 24/7. They were literally building mock-ups of the bolt assembly in a pool (the Neutral Buoyancy Lab) to figure out why Hoshide couldn't get the gear to lock.
Breaking down the fix
The solution wasn't high-tech. It was a toothbrush. Seriously.
- They had to clean the metal shavings out of the bolt housing.
- They used a modified tool to apply more torque than the original specs allowed.
- They improvised a cleaning "stinger" out of spare parts.
This is the stuff that gets glossed over in official press releases. The Expedition 33 energizing turn succeeded because humans are remarkably good at rigging things when they have to. They finally got the MBSU bolted down, and the "turn" was complete—the station surged back to full power. It felt like a victory, but it was a close call.
Why this mission changed the way we look at "Old Space"
There is this misconception that the ISS is a perfect, static machine. It’s not. It’s a ship of Theseus. By the time Expedition 33 rolled around, parts of the station were already over a decade old. Exposure to extreme temperature swings—250 degrees Fahrenheit in the sun and minus 250 in the shade—does things to metal. It expands. It contracts. It gets brittle.
The Expedition 33 energizing turn was a wake-up call. It proved that maintenance in space is 90% grunt work and 10% genius. We realized that we couldn't just rely on the original blueprints. We needed better tools for "in-situ" repair. You can't just call a plumber when you're 250 miles up.
📖 Related: Why the Shotgun With a Clip Is Changing How We Think About Home Defense
The Crew Dynamics
Sunita Williams is a legend for a reason. During this whole ordeal, she stayed remarkably chill. You can listen to the audio loops; there’s no panic. Just methodical, repetitive attempts to fix a broken machine. That mental energy is what keeps a mission from spiraling. If the commander loses it, the crew loses it.
Malenchenko, on the Russian side, was managing the Zvezda and Zarya modules. People forget that the ISS is a patchwork of international tech. When the US side has a power "turn" or a surge, it affects the Russian segments too. They share a backbone. The Expedition 33 energizing turn required a level of coordination between Houston and Moscow that we rarely see in the news these days.
Lessons learned from the power surge
What did we actually get out of this, besides some gray hairs for the flight directors?
First, the development of the "Space Toothbrush" wasn't a joke; it led to a whole new kit of cleaning and maintenance tools specifically designed for exposed threads in a vacuum. Second, it changed how we schedule spacewalks (EVAs). We realized that "task saturation" was a real risk. When you're tired, you make mistakes with bolts.
The Expedition 33 energizing turn also taught us about "cold welding." In space, two clean pieces of metal can literally fuse together because there’s no layer of oxidation or moisture to keep them apart. This likely contributed to the bolt issues. Now, we use different coatings to prevent that from happening on newer components.
How to apply the Expedition 33 mindset to your own projects
You probably aren't fixing a space station today. But the logic of the Expedition 33 energizing turn is surprisingly universal. When everything goes sideways and the "power" is out—metaphorically or literally—the steps to recovery are the same.
Stop trying to force the big fix immediately. Williams and Hoshide didn't just keep cranking the bolt until it snapped. They backed off. They went back inside. They talked to the experts. They waited for a better plan.
Work with what you have on the shelf. Sometimes the fancy tool isn't the right tool. The toothbrush fix is the ultimate example of "if it works, it ain't stupid." Use the resources you already have in unconventional ways.
Focus on the "Turn." In any crisis, there is a pivot point where things go from "failing" to "recovering." Recognize that moment. For Expedition 33, it was the moment the MBSU finally clicked into place. Everything after that was just a checklist.
Practical Next Steps for Tech Enthusiasts and Managers
If you're interested in the gritty details of orbital maintenance or managing high-pressure technical shifts, here is how you can actually dive deeper into this specific era of spaceflight:
- Study the EVA 18 and 19 logs: These are the specific spacewalks where the "energizing turn" took place. They are publicly available on NASA’s archives and offer a minute-by-minute look at how astronauts handle equipment failure.
- Look into the "Space Asset Management" protocols: Expedition 33 changed how NASA tracks the "shelf life" of external components. If you work in industrial maintenance or IT infrastructure, these protocols are a gold mine for preventative strategy.
- Analyze the Power Management and Distribution (PMAD) system: This is the specific architecture of the ISS power grid. Understanding how it handles shunting and switching can give you a lot of insight into large-scale electrical engineering.
The Expedition 33 energizing turn wasn't just a blip in history. It was the moment we realized that the International Space Station was no longer a "new" project—it was a working, aging ship that required a new kind of grit to keep running. It reminded us that even in the most advanced environment in human history, sometimes you just need to clean the threads and try again.
Actionable Insight: The next time you face a technical bottleneck, step back and check the "bolts." Are you forcing a solution that doesn't fit? Sometimes the most complex systems fail because of the simplest mechanical issues. Clean the workspace, reassess your tools, and look for the "toothbrush" solution. It worked for NASA, and it’ll probably work for you too.