324. Skydiving

Some people go to university to get a degree or some other certification of higher education but when I was there I got the impression that most folk were there for the social life. Let’s face it, when you have an income from grants, loans and, if you are lucky, parents and you only have to attend a few lectures a week with nobody making you get out of bed in the mornings like when you were at school, it’s difficult not to fall into the trap of socialising over studying. Isn’t that why they invented the word “cram”?

The main offenders for leading students into a hedonistic lifestyle are the multitude of sporting clubs, the indomitable student unions and the plethora of associations. During the first weeks of the new academic year these societies do their dammedest to recruit new member from the influx of fresh faced and naïve first years or “Freshers”, with lures of friendship, camaraderie and of course, free drinks. You can join anything from the Rugby Club to the Dungeons and Dragons Appreciation Society and as it was I was enticed into shelling out the princely sum of £2.50 to join Glasgow University Skydiving Club who promised everyone a free dive.

I later found out that I had to raise about £150 in sponsorship that would in turn pay for the jump. So needless to say I bailed (no pun intended) from the club, went to no meetings and certainly didn’t get the cash together to do the skydive.

That was 15 years ago... And I still hadn’t got round to jumping so when a nurse at work brought in video clips of her skydiving to play on the computer on night shift I immediately wanted to do it.

It turned out that Jackie and her partner “Bear” (it’s a long story – besides everyone that jumps has a gnarly nick-name although I’m not impressed with the assigned “Tubbs” and wanted “Chunk” instead which I wasn’t allowed) had done around 500 jumps and were really happy for me to tag along to the Sydney Skydiving Club in Picton and throw myself out a plane with them. To boot, Bear was going to film the whole thing so that I could watch myself screaming and puking into the face of my tandem-master at 200km/h over and over again. Awesome.

The drive to the drop-zone took about 90 minutes and when we got there it was overcast and the weather report was for light drizzle with the possibility of thunder storms later on in the day. As I got out of the car I looked up at the gathering grey clouds, half of me hoping for rain so that I wouldn’t have to jump and the other half over flowing with the unbridled excitement of a child the night before Christmas.

“Don’t worry” said Bear, “It’ll be sunny above the clouds.”

Parachutists were landing all around us as we made our way from the car park to the office where I would shortly sign my life away. I watched them soar into the field at break-neck speed and then at the last minute pull their chutes into a stall and land gracefully on the grass. The worry in me was loosing ground to the excited child and all my nightmarish and terrible thoughts seeped from my mind as the adrenalin began to surge around my system.

Bear and Jackie spent the next little while catching up with a few other ‘divers and during this the greyness began to fracture and there was the shortest of glimpses of the sun trying to burn off the cloud layer. Seconds later Bear was shoving paper-work under my nose saying “Sign this and don’t be a pussy!” There was a small quiver in my hand as I started reading the section that began “Sydney Skydiving club does not accept responsibility for…”

I stopped reading and just signed everything and the quivering stopped.

Moments after that I was keying in my pin number to the eftpos machine and my bank account was becoming several hundred dollars emptier. Actually the deal that Jackie and Bear had got for me was entirely reasonable and far cheaper than I had expected. However, when I met my tandem master for the first time – a nut-job aptly named “Git” – and he started regaling me with stories about people falling out of their harnesses and chutes failing I began to wonder if the deal was such a good one. This continued with more chat like “if you find you are no longer attached to me then don’t worry, I’ll be fine” and “if you crash into that large spinning thing at the front of the plane you might develop an allergic reaction”.

My biggest doubt came when Git clipped me and my harness into “the love seat” which was a metal frame that I was left to hang on while he shouted instructions like “stick out your hips” and “thrust your groin forward” with a bit of “how do your balls feel?” thrown in for good measure. I was glad to get off that pseudo-torture device and wrench the harness from my aching crotch but at that point time began to speed up.

I was being ushered to “stand here for a photo” and being told to “take these goggles” and being made to “sit between my legs” and being shouted at to look “into the video camera”. I don’t remember the take off and my next clear memory was Jackie showing me her altimeter which was registering “2000ft” as the 15 occupants of the cramped cabin were climbing steadily to the drop height of 12,000 feet.

The ten minutes that it took to get to altitude passed quite quickly and there was a good bit of banter and with more than a few American-style hand shakes for luck thrown about. There was a Point Break feel to it all and as I grinned into Bear’s head camera I noticed that all I had left in me was unadulterated exhilaration – not the slightest shred of terror remained.

When I looked out the small windows I saw that we had ascended above the clouds and it was bright blue all around with a pillowy white carpet several thousand feet below us waiting to catch us like stunt man’s giant white inflatable cushion should we run into trouble. The thick rolls of clouds were and oxymoron as they were unnervingly calming and my smile widened as I day-dreamed about falling into them in a cartoon puff of smoke.

And then time almost stopped…

“30 Seconds!!!”

The door opens and the drone of the aircrafts engine becomes a thunderous roar as the air rushes past the open cabin.

“29”

Git yells “get your goggles on!”

“28”

Bear and Jackie who are crouched in front of me are ear to ear smiles and turn to stick their thumbs up at me in unison. They know what’s coming and they live for it. I don’t… yet.

“27”

I catch a glimpse of Jackie’s altimeter reading 12000ft as the first jumper throws himself out the tiny door head first.

“26”

My adrenal glands finally kick in and my heart starts to pound in my chest and throat as I realise we have moved a fraction closer to the door. Strangely my breathing is staying slow and weirdly I can feel Git’s chest pressed against my back rising and falling much faster than my own.

“25”

A couple embrace and fall out the cabin together.

“24”

My goggles are steaming up and I wonder if I’ll be able to see anything as I cut through the air.

“23”

Bear screams “This is gonna be fucking awesome!”. I stare at his head-cam and try to form some semblance of a smile.

“22”

My breathing is catching up to my heart and I feel the harness strain as I gulp down huge volumes of the thin air.

“21”

Jackie is fixing her helmet strap in place and I notice the crack in it that I pointed out earlier. I also remember her reply – “A helmet is pointless in a sky dive unless you land on rocks. I only wear it for the altimeter alarm that’s built into the side”.

“20”
I realise I’m not wearing a helmet.

“19”

“How come I don’t have a helmet” I yell to Git.

“18”

“Stop being a pussy,” he screams in my ear, “You don’t need one!”

“17”

Either the door is moving towards us or we are moving towards the door. I’m sure I’m not helping move us to the exit but the surprisingly strong Git is shuffling us closer to certain doom all on his own.

“16”

More people fling themselves with wanton abandon out the airplane.

“15”

The other tandem team behind me to the left start whooping and yee-haa-ing like they are at a damn rodeo. I want to be annoyed but I’m beginning to feel ecstatic about the imminent plunge into nothingness.

“14”

The horrendous turbulence created by the open door shrieks deafeningly in my ear as we nudge a fraction closer to the door.

“13”

Jackie and Bear jostle into position so that Bear can jump out a fraction before me and Jackie can follow thus getting into the jump footage.

“12”

Git bellows “Arms crossed” and I thrust my hands into the front of the harness in a death grip.

“11”

Closer and closer.

“10”

Another jumper goes headlong into the stratosphere

“9”

Bear is at the door grinning as my conjoined twin and I cover the last few centimetres to the door. My breathing rate has over taken Git’s.

“8”

“If you can’t breath just shout or scream or swear and you’ll be fine,” Git shouts in my ear as Bear edges out onto the narrow step holding onto the rail with one hand in a cavalier fashion.

“7”

I’m at the brink. Nothing around us but nothing and nothing below me but white.

“6”

“You ready?” Git again. My conscience. My inner voice. My nemesis. My saviour.

“5”

“Bring it on!” Glee spreading on my face.

“4”

Jackie – “I’ll be right behind you”

“3, 2, 1”

Bear lets go. Git thrusts us out the cabin the wind screaming past my ears. Jackie bails a fraction later.

That’s it. I’m falling. Accelerating. My heart thumps mercilessly and I grip onto the harness with all my strength thankful for the fact I can still feel Git attached to me. Panic surges through me for two or three seconds as the sensation of increasing speed takes over and although I’m still beaming it’s masking the inner fear that is clamping my stomach.

Git taps my right arm – the signal to put my arms out and assume the position of a flat fall. I do. Then something incredible happens. A sensation almost impossible to explain or describe comes over me. Total euphoria. The knowledge that no matter what happens next these might be your last few seconds on the planet and you might as well enjoy it. Weightlessness. The rushing air is the only thing that tells you you’re alive and not in the next place. But oh so alive.

Time is accelerating faster than me and I’m yelling to the whole planet “THIS IS INCREDIBLE!” louder than anyone has shouted in the history of the world.

I see Bear floating effortlessly in front of me and my smile is enormous as I scream elated obscenities and profanities at his camera. Lip readers will baulk when they see this footage but I’m beyond caring.

I care about nothing. Just this feeling. This rush. This total loss of all baggage, fears, needs and wants. All that matters is now. This moment. This instance. This completely overwhelming sense of freeness. Nothing is of consequence.

It’s just me, gravity and my smile.

Jackie pulls in from my right and docks with us. I grab her hand tightly and Bear moves in front of us for the ultimate camera shot. He’s only a couple of feet away and I yell and scream and curse and howl and I smile and I smile and I smile. I know they can’t hear me but they too beam delight and rapture and understanding.

I don’t want to let go. I want to stay in this place forever.

Jackie lets go, still grinning.

I return the smile and I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. Bear has his thumbs in the air as I turn back to the camera and I stick my thumbs up. My cheeks hurt. I can’t smile anymore.

I don’t know what’s going on but suddenly Jackie drops away from my right and Bear plummets below me. Then I’m vertical and I feel the harness crush into my groin. The chute is out. The free-fall is over. It can’t be.

It is.

We gently glide into the clouds through a completely circular rainbow that has opened up underneath us and out the other side into the over cast drop zone. I can see the paddock and the car park, the run way and the office.

I’m still in a state of rapture and although we collide with the ground a few minutes later I still feel like I’m up in the air. That feeling continues and continues and continues.

So. That was the jump. I’m sure that the guys got a bit bored of me going on and on about it for the remainder of the day but eventually Jackie said, “It’s like that every time,” and I better understood why people would continue to throw themselves out of a perfectly good plane with ritualistic zeal on a weekly, and in some cases daily, basis.

The single best thing I’ve ever done and my proudest moment of The 365 Challenge.

Thanks Jackie and Bear. When’s the next one?