What if we threw a skydive.....?

What if we threw a skydive.....?

What if we threw a skydive, and nobody came? Might sound like a stupid
question, but I'm pretty sure something like that was going through Doug
Forth's mind after they launched the 10 way base out of the Skyvan, and not
a single one of us 10 divers from the trail plane showed up. We all climbed
out and got ready to go, but we hadn't gotten the light to open the door
until after the base had already launched from the lead aircraft. We never
saw them. Lyle suddenly ordered everybody to climb back into the plane and
in the confusion with all the pushing and shoving I fell down and had
several people walk across me as they tried to move up inside the plane.
Bret decided it was time for somebody to take charge and suddenly put
himself nose to nose with Kim and shouted "Sit down and relax!" Kim was
already sitting down and seemed pretty relaxed to me. At least, she was
until Brett started shouting at her. Somebody needed to relax, but I don't
think it was her. That's when the pilot shouted back: "Why didn't you
leave?" Oops! We weren't about to go back down and land with the plane so
Lyle hastily organized a 10-way Speed Star, and giggling and laughing like
children we dove out on one of the most fun skydives we've done since we got
here.

The day had been going well until then. I spent the day in the trail plane
and since I was the last person of the second group diving out I had a great
view of the first group when they left the other plane just 50 feet above
and 50 feet to our right. On one jump while I was looking across at the 4
people clinging to the side of the plane Wilmar suddenly dropped off all by
himself. All 4 people are supposed to leave at the same time. A half second
later another one left, then Dan BC left, and that left Alain Bard flapping
like a piñata in the slipstream as the first row of divers inside dove out
past him. So much for leaving as a group. They built the formation, but I'm
pretty sure there were a few cases of beer paid for that exit. A couple of
times I was looking out the side window when suddenly all those bodies would
go screaming past. First the base goes by as one chunk, and then another 6 people
diving and chasing it like bullets. Head up, arms swept back and out to
their sides, legs straight, looking like birds of prey going for the kill. I remember
watching Alain Bard go past, easily recognized by his red helmet, and wishing I was with him.

There's some bad weather coming so even though we've done the first camps
allotment of jumps we're going to keep going for the rest of the day and get
in as many as we can. Just before I left Ottawa, Josee solemnly told me to
"Keep an eye on the kids'. (Kim and Mathieu) They're a couple of junior
jumpers from home, and we're sharing a room. They doing just fine all on
their own. Matt's been a rock star today, getting repeatedly singled out in
the debriefs as an example of what to do. His skills are leaping ahead.
Kim's been doing just as well. She's had a few problems with landings
though, we're 1200 feet higher than she's used to landing at so her canopy
is faster to begin with, and she's also wearing all the weight she can fit
into 2 belts so she can fall fast enough to stay with the big boys. Those 2
factors combine to make all 90 pounds of her come in like a world class
swooper going for a speed record.

We finally broke the cycle of finishing the day by drinking all the penalty
beer, getting something to eat and drinking more beer, and then going drunk
grocery shopping at Winco. Instead we went drunk shopping at Walgreens for a
change of pace. They didn't sell beer, but I was able to get a king-sized
bottle of 400 tablets of Naproxen Sodium (Aleve) for $24.99. That would have
cost a small fortune back home, and the savings should cover my hotel bill not to
mention make me quite popular with the rest of the campers as the
damage and bruises begins to accumulate.

We're constantly being moved in and out of slots, from the base all the way
back to last diver. Every skydive has people scurrying back and forth
swapping belts, suits, adding or removing lead weights, putting on or taking
off T shirts or sweatshirts over their suits to either add mass or drag to
speed up or slow down as needed. I loaned out my slow suit to Kurt, who was
always going low. On one dive we were supposed to be tracking away side by
side. But with all the extra lift he got from my suit I was treated to the
sight of being out tracked by my own suit! He even gained about 100 feet of
altitude on me! I'm tempted to take it back and tell him to go naked but I'm
counting on being able to blame any of my mistakes on him during the
debriefs.

I managed to out track him on the next jump and had a great big grin on my
face when I stopped, waved off, and reached in to pull my pilot chute. The
next thing I knew I was on my back, spinning violently and accelerating as I
watched the horizon flash past my feet. Major Line Twists! I reached up,
grabbed the risers and pulled with every single shred of strength I could
summon up and started kicking like crazy as I tried to unwind my lines. It
started to unwind, and as the canopy dove faster and faster it became a race
as to what I would run out of first: nerve, or altitude. I was talking to
Nick afterwards and he said that he was screaming "Chop it! Chop it!" inside
his helmet as I spiraled down past him. At 1000 feet I suddenly snapped out
of it and leveled off, just a split second before I gave up and reached for
my handles. 2,370 Skydives, and still no cutaway! Trevor better not be
counting on me to be making him a gift of his favorite party beverage for
saving my life, I've got horseshoes up my ass and may never have to find out
if his reserve pack jobs work. Besides, it's only the 3rd day, I wouldn't
want to have to stand down to get my gear repacked.

Herb from new Brunswick did cutaway on that load, and his main landed in one
of the huge muddy puddles that are scattered through the landing area. His
rigger will be enjoying a bottle of his favorite top shelf liquor.

As the day went on I thought through the math of my near cut away. I reached
for my pilot chute at exactly 3,000 feet, it couldn't have been more than 7
or 8 seconds before I came out of the spin at 1,000 feet, which means I was
coming down at about the same speed as if I was in freefall. I was about 5
seconds from being a dust cloud in the California desert, and only had a
second or two left in which to change that. Maybe I exaggerate, because if I
had been coming down that fast my Cypress should have fired and blown out my
reserve, which with my main already out may have just tangled and I still
would have gone in. Either way, dead is dead. Hmmmmm. Okay. Next time, I'm
going after the handles a lot sooner, and Trevor will be getting an extra
large bottle of Grand Marnier.

For the last 2 jumps of the day they put both groups together for some 40
ways. On the first one about half the people seemed to forget all the
lessons they had learned and had been applying so well. It wasn't pretty,
but it didn't funnel, and no beer penalties were assessed. On the second one
everybody did a much better job. Except for me. I dove out, went delta and
screamed down into the perfect spot to approach my slot, and after staring
at it for about 5 seconds realized I was on the wrong side of the formation.
I went into a wicked side slide and bobbed and weaving around all the people
who were where they were supposed to be, went tearing around to the opposite
side, finally getting to where I should have been. I went into the debrief
convinced the whole thing had been caught on video but it happened just out
of frame. I felt so guilty I coughed up ten bucks to the beer cop even
though nobody had noticed my sin.

Saturday is our day off and the Winnipeg crew has invited me to go down to
Skydive Elsinore with them. We just want to do one jump, buy a T shirt, and
then head out to the coast. Drive the Pacific Coast Highway, maybe find a
beach and relax for a while. More Canadians are showing up tomorrow, but it
looks like they won't have enough to make a record. They have exactly 60
people registered, so as long as nobody gets cut because of ability or
safety concerns, or drops out due to injuries, it is possible that we could
set a new Canandian record, but it's a long shot. Oh well, I'm just here for
the beer.