Returning from the Moon after one of humanity’s greatest achievements, Neil Armstrong, Buzz Aldrin, and Michael Collins faced one last, unexpected piece of Earthly bureaucracy: a U.S. Customs form.
This peculiar document, now a beloved historical artifact, perfectly captures the collision between the cosmic and the mundane. It stands as a humorous testament to the fact that even if you leave the planet, you can’t escape the paperwork.
On July 24, 1969, the day the Apollo 11 crew splashed down in the Pacific Ocean, they became subject to the same entry laws as any other traveler returning to the United States. This resulted in the creation of a “General Declaration” form, filed at the port of entry in Honolulu, Hawaii, that detailed their extraordinary voyage.
What a Trip to the Moon Looks Like on Paper
The form itself is a masterpiece of bureaucratic comedy. Under the “Flight No.” section, the crew dutifully entered APOLLO 11. The “Flight Routing” section, which normally lists cities, reads:
- Departure from: Moon
- Arrival at: Honolulu, Hawaii, U.S.A.
The most famous section, of course, is the cargo manifest. When asked to declare all articles being brought into the U.S., the astronauts listed:
“MOON ROCK AND MOON DUST SAMPLES.”
Even the form’s public health section contained a chillingly accurate, if deadpan, entry. In the box asking to declare “Any other condition on board which may lead to the spread of disease,” the crew’s response was:
“TO BE DETERMINED.”
This was no joke. The astronauts were immediately placed into a 21-day quarantine in the Mobile Quarantine Facility (MQF) precisely because NASA scientists were unsure if “moon germs” or unknown pathogens had been brought back with them. The form, signed by all three astronauts, was also countersigned by a U.S. Customs inspector in Honolulu, Ernest I. Mura, officially welcoming the Moon rocks to America.
A Bureaucratic Joke with a Serious Pedigree
While NASA officials have since confirmed the form was filled out as a “little joke” and a light-hearted gesture, it was technically rooted in real, if outdated, law.
At the time, U.S. customs regulations were governed by Depression-era tariff laws. These laws had no provisions for space travel and, by the letter of the law, anything “imported” into the United States from anywhere – even the lunar surface – was subject to declaration.
This bureaucratic quirk was finally resolved in 1984 when the U.S. Congress passed a new law, which officially states that “Articles returned from space shall not be considered an importation.”
Today, the Apollo 11 customs form is celebrated as a charming footnote to a monumental mission. It reminds us that no matter how far humanity ventures into the final frontier, we are still required to, quite literally, declare ourselves upon our return.
