Discovery Astronaut Easily Makes First In-Flight Shuttle Fix

"I can see it very well," Robinson said. "It looks to be close to three inches on one side and 1 1/2 inches tall. It looks to be bent over. . . . Vegas, I'm ready to go in and get it when you are."

Inside the space station, Kelly took manual control of the crane. "Stand tall and lean forward," he said. "Once you think you can reach the gap filler, let us know so we can go brakes on."

"Steve, take it away," Thomas said.

"Body forward, two feet," Robinson said, extending his right hand toward the gap filler. The crane moved. "Good motion . . . good motion," Robinson said.

"Your hand is the closest thing to the orbiter," Kelly said.

"That's why it's out there," Robinson responded. "Good motion . . . three . . . two . . . one. Stop motion, set brakes."

The bottom of the orbiter, seen through Robinson's helmet camera, looked like snakeskin, with the scales bearing serial numbers, many of which could be clearly read. Robinson wasted no time.

In a curiously anticlimactic end to the Rube Goldberg-like choreography that preceded it, he reached out with his stubby white-fingered space glove, matter-of-factly grabbed the gap filler and pulled it out.

Ten minutes later, he had the second one. He asked Kelly to move him five feet back from the tile face so he could take pictures of his handiwork. Then he returned to the shuttle payload bay. Begley had predicted the job would last about two hours. It took 66 minutes.

"You looked good up there," Thomas said. "You trained for four years, and now you can spend the next four years signing autographs."