Skydiving for beginners

1000, 2000, 3000, WOW! I’m not entirely sure how I’d come to this, what was it that had finally gone right to put me here? I was having the best moment of my life to date, one that will stick in my mind forever. A memory so solid that when I’m wetting my chair in excitement for the next game of bingo, I’ll still be boring the nurses of the Sunshine Home for lecherous old men with my tales of this one single moment. Since this time of course, I’ve witnessed the birth of two amazing, wonderful boys and also I saw my own two being born. I’ve heard Daddy being said to me for the first time, seen them crawl, walk and run, these moments have to take precedence in my mind now, but on this day all of those things were not even an idea.

I was currently about 2500 feet above Paderborn, falling through the sky at an ever increasing pace currently approaching 60MPH. Four of us had set off 3 days earlier after a Lager-fuelled discussion had signed us up for this trip. A 10-day skydiving course was available on an Army base in Germany for £20, absolutely no way were we going to miss this. We were the 2nd batch of our crew to go, the first bunch provided an interesting omen when one of them arrived back on crutches. A somewhat poorly judged pull on the parachutes brakes whilst still quite a way over the drop zone had caused a faster than predicted landing. Omen number 2 came as we were sat on the train, a crate of Becks on the table that we were slowly working our way through was just beginning to get warm, we’d been stopped at a signal for a while when we noticed a policeman stood on the tracks next to us getting very excited and animated indeed. It dawned on us that he was pointing to something on the track; the something was a leg, just a leg. It seems someone had head-butted the previous train and the Police were frantically trying to locate all the pieces. Needless to say we got an hours worth of body part jokes out of that.

Things had gone well so far though, my naturally aerodynamic shape and increased weight were proving Newton right and I was finding falling down in a straight line fairly easy. I’d sailed through the first steps with ease, the static-line jumps had been straightforward enough (you are connected to the plane and the parachute opens itself straight away), these on their own had been exciting enough but you are thrown around so violently that the first thing you know is that the chute is open and you have to start un-twisting the ropes fast if you are to have a hope of controlling your landing. One swift self-opened parachute test later, no static-line but you pull the cord almost immediately, and I was ready for what was to be my first real skydive.

This time it was different. This time something truly awe-inspiring was about to happen. This jump included 5 seconds of free-fall. 5 seconds does not sound a lot, but in that first 5 seconds you’ve fallen about 500 feet already and from here on in you are getting faster, from 3000 feet it would probably only take a total of 20 – 25 seconds to be landing on the ground at 120MPH. About 3 seconds after leaving the aircraft my world shifted forever. Suddenly I found I had levelled off into the traditional skydive position, all of a sudden I could see the whole of the Earth and yes, it does curve! Everything was stretched out below me, the stomach rush had gone and I just felt like I was floating in the air. Famine, poverty, war and women were forgotten - MAN CAN FLY!

Below I could see the triangle of the drop zone where I would soon be aiming to land. The 3 sides which we had been taught to miss were clearly visible, the golf course, the deep lake and the firing range. We were on an Army base after all, complete with massive rifle, mortar and tank firing ranges - all conveniently located next to where a bunch of idiots were trying to learn to fly a parachute. I for one found the lecture on what to do if you land in the firing range much more frightening than the one about the chute not opening. I was engrossed in all this, feeling like an immortal with wings en-route to some far off world, when something knocked onto my consciousness from deep within. I’m sure there is something I’m supposed to be doing, what was it again – think man, think. It hit me like a stone; I was supposed to be sailing under a parachute right now, instead of falling at nigh on 80MPH I should have been doing 15.
I was still counting, I’d just temporarily forgotten why. And so finally on 8 seconds instead of 5 I pulled the cord and opened the chute, instantly deciding to take more care about how I dress under the lower straps next time. An extra 3 seconds may sound like nothing but it sure put the willies up my instructor I can assure you. I floated down slowly under the canopy taking every breath of the clean air into my body whilst operating the parachute with such precision and utter control that I landed slap bang next to the golf course on my face. I did not care one bit, I simply whooped and gibbered, gathered up my canvas and set off on the long walk back to the rest of the gang. The rest of the week was much the same, I made it through 10 second skydives after a few tumbles and was about to start at 15 when the time was up. What a laugh, what an experience, what on Earth was I thinking jumping out of perfectly good aircraft?