For most people, a total solar eclipse lasts just a few minutes.
But NASA's pilots find a way to make it last longer
by trying to outrun the Moon’s shadow
with an airplane.
The truth is it's actually chasing us.
We get out in front of it and let it overtake us.
Once we're in totality,
then we'll advance the throttles to max
and try and stay in totality for as long as we can.
Making that happen takes extreme precision.
Scientists calculate exactly where the airplane needs to be at each moment.
We do a lot of missions where being in the right point in time and space are critical
and this is one of them.
On eclipse day,
the WB-57 aircraft climbs more than 50,000 feet into the stratosphere.
That’s above most of Earth's atmosphere,
where clouds, dust, and water vapor could obscure the view.
Viewing an eclipse from 50,000 feet provides a really clear shot of the Sun
and that allows the scientists to have confidence that the data
they're seeing is from the Sun rather than distortions from the atmosphere.
When the Moon’s shadow arrives, it engulfs the aircraft.
It’s weird. Right where you’re at it’s dark but everywhere you see, it's twilight.
The temperature in the cockpit drops, so it’s very noticeable.
As the eclipse unfolds,
the pilot keeps the aircraft on course
while the sensor operator fine-tunes the cameras, capturing every second of data.
You're very, very, very busy
and it's very high pressure because, of course, there's no do-overs.
You only get one opportunity to get all these instruments trained on the right spot.
For the aircraft crew,
it’s a chance to witness one of nature's most spectacular events
while helping scientists better understand our Sun.
I'm sitting in the best seat in the house
— it's pretty exciting.