11 August 2016
Tandem Sky-Dive
Literally breath-taking!
by Lynda Goetz
My plans for last Friday did not include a tandem sky-dive. They did include a visit to the beautician’s with my daughter in the afternoon for a leg-wax and a few hours in the morning to accompany her to the airfield at Dunkeswell, where she was booked to do the sky-dive I had given her as a birthday present several months ago. How did I end up joining her?
It was grey and cloudy in Devon last Friday, and as we set off at 7.40am to get to the airfield by 8am as stipulated, the chances of jumping within the next few hours looked slim. My 24 year-old daughter, who (like a lot of the young these days) has notched up a fair few extreme adventures of one sort or another, was totally relaxed about the whole thing – just rather bored at the thought of sitting around waiting for something to happen. She duly signed in and we went into the café to wait for further announcements. The coffee was dire and the cardboard cups did not improve the watery flavour. I read my newspaper and my daughter took out her Kindle. We waited.
After a fairly short wait an announcement over the tannoy asked all those on the 8 o’clock registration to attend the pre-jump briefing. Relatives and friends were welcome to go along too. Good ploy. I joined the 16 or so others in the briefing room where sky-diving instructor Jason was to give his talk. Jason was calming, encouraging and enthusiastic. He clearly loved this crazy sport. He wanted other people to love it too. He knew most of the people in that room were nervous, if not actually scared. He knew that jumping out of an aeroplane at 15,000 feet for the first time is generally not undertaken without some qualms and he sought to quell those. He explained that it was actually easier and more enjoyable to jump from 15,000 feet than from 7,000 feet, which was the lowest height one could choose. Apparently the Americans call the 7,000 feet jump ‘the ground-rush’ and sell it as an extra thrill. “So” he said, “ if you are choosing it because it is cheaper, fine, but if you are choosing it because it will be over quicker, it certainly will, but it is scarier because you do not have time to relax into it.” The girl in front of me looked a bit pale.
Jason continued, “The flight up to 15,000 feet will take about 10 minutes. The views are fantastic. You have the Bristol Channel on one side and the south coast on the other. Should any relatives or friends wish to go up in the aircraft, they can sit in the cockpit beside the pilot for the very reasonable sum of £50.” Well, that was food for thought. The briefing continued until all the points on safety and insurance had been covered and all the prospective jumpers had appended half a dozen or more signatures to the forms in front of them. They were encouraged to take the video package so that they could capture this amazing experience on film. Credit terms were available. Finally, the words that were to be my downfall and lead to me parting with more cash so that I could join my daughter; “Should any relatives or friends decide that this is an opportunity not to be missed, then they should speak to one of the girls in the office as we can quite possibly accommodate you.”
Well, I was there. My daughter was having a go; my mother had done it in Australia as a 91st birthday present from my youngest sister (who had of course also done it years ago); my other daughter had done it in South Africa on her gap year. My partner was unlikely to want to play at tandem sky-diving as he had done it for real years ago in the Royal Marines. If I didn’t go for it now, I might never ‘get a round tuit’. Dear Reader, the challenge was too much. I signed up.
Then we waited for the weather to clear… and waited (we skipped the coffee)… The 10am registrations arrived and the café became quite crowded. Nervous conversations were conducted around us. By 11 am, the announcement came that we had waited the requisite 3 hours and could, if we wanted, leave and re-book for another time. However, we were advised to wait, as the forecast was for the cloud to clear and for the afternoon to be sunny. We continued to wait. Just after midday, with the cloud still looming grey, in spite of the intermittent gaps of blue sky, the first group were asked to get into their gear, ‘so that when the cloud clears we can be up quickly’. Our names were not on that first list. The leg-wax appointment loomed. We did our calculations and decided that even if they got up in the next half an hour, we would not be up and back in time for our appointments. Reluctant to put off the event entirely for another day, with all the logistics that entailed, and remembering that Jason had said that on some summer evenings they were jumping until sunset, we decided that we could go and come back in the evening. “Ring as soon as you can, but preferably by 5 and we will let you know the situation,” the girl in the office advised us.
It turned out we had made a good call. The first lot did not get up until 1.30pm. The afternoon turned out to be beautiful, sunny, clear and warm. We were in the air by 5.30pm, togged out in bright, wasp-coloured suits, complete with leather hats and goggles to pull down just before we jumped. Sitting astride a long bench, closely attached to my instructor Andy by tightly-pulled straps, it seemed hard to breathe; to our right, another bench was also full, straddled by nervous novices in tandem like us and some cheerful experts on their own. As amazing views of Exmouth, Chesil Beach and the Devon, Wiltshire and Somerset countryside passed below us, I have to confess to wondering why I was doing this. I remembered suddenly that I had signed a piece of paper saying I had never broken anything – completely forgetting that I had broken my shoulder, badly, skiing, two and a half years ago. Would it matter? Why?
The altimeter on Andy’s wrist showed our height; 2,000 feet, 5,000 feet, 7,000 feet, then around again to 11,000, then 12,000 and suddenly it was time for action! The door was opened and the first singles disappeared from view. My daughter and her instructor knelt at the doorway and vanished. She later told me that because she had been so fearless he had decided to give her a ‘bit more excitement’ and somersaulted them out – which was slightly disorientating! We shuffled forward; I knelt as instructed, bending backwards slightly with my arms crossed over my chest and before I even had time to think we were out in the open, patterns of fields way below us. When I got the tap on my shoulder I uncrossed my arms and raised them in that classic skydive position. Wow!
As Jason had promised, there was no stomach-lurching sensation of falling. The speed of the aircraft and the air-resistance make that impossible. To say there is no feeling of falling is not true – the ground, after all, is getting noticeably closer and, on this first tandem dive at least, I felt unable to look around or ahead as much as I would have liked, so the land below was the definite focus. During this freefall time, which maybe lasts a minute or so, the air rushes past noisily. You do have to remember to breathe! As the instructor deploys the parachute, one is jolted into an upright position and suddenly the noise stops. Peace and quiet descend. Andy lifts my goggles and points out the halo rainbow created in the small fluffy cloud below us by our shadow, also visible. He puts us on course by pulling on the right or left hand straps of the parachute, swirling us round in a slightly sick-making motion to demonstrate the ease and speed with which one can change direction. My daughter apparently thought this was ‘the best bit’. Clearly the toddler in her is closer than it is for me! I am given the chance to be in charge and rather gingerly try first a left then a right turn. Too soon we are having to line up on the airfield. I am instructed to lift my legs, as we had all had to show we were capable of doing earlier in the day. I do so and we are on the ground with a smooth and gentle landing I would hardly have believed possible. My daughter was 50 yards away smiling broadly. I walked towards her, legs slightly wobbly, elated and thrilled that I had made myself do it. I can thoroughly recommend it. I might even do it again on 22nd August when they are going for the Guinness Book of Records for the highest number of tandem sky-dives in a day. I probably won’t bother with the leg wax next time though.
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