Bombs Away: The World from 10,000 Feet

The Cessna slowly circles above the meeting point between the ocean and the Namib desert, gaining altitude until we hit the magic 10k feet and it is time to make a much quicker descent down, gravity style. Having looked forward to skydiving for a long time, my nervous energy is ready for the release. That said, I am also really enjoying the ever increasing views across this majestic, still and almost inhospitable landscape. The sun is beginning to make its way towards the atlantic horizon, tracing the start of a dragon tail across the miles of ocean we see to the horizon.

Heading out, and up

We are outside Swakermound, and on tap today is a tandem sky dive. The feeling amongst the group has been akin to the locker room before a big hockey game, nervous energy mixed with quiet determination. There is good reason for that reaction, as the act of jumping out of a perfectly good airplane is inherently counterintuitive. Just as before those big games, i tend towards the quiet side, for once, getting my mind ready for the adrenaline and focus that is ahead. In the Cessna, it is no different, as i skip the banter and prefer to take in the scenery, the vivid palette of reds, oranges contrast with the deep blue Atlantic, the same one i grew up frolicking in many thousands of miles from here, and its rhythmic surf that is beguiling from altitude. My only worry is not about the jump, but rather about the physical effects of the free fall and whether my body will respond positively. All that rock climbing has created comfort with harnesses, redundancy and process, which carries forward to the gear you wear to jump out of a plane. Instead, i am silently wondering - wIll i get sick, will my contacts stay in, will i be uneasy or comfortable?

Thumbs up, i hope

Suddenly, the door is open, although in this case the door is more like a garage door and slides up. Graves, the first one out of the plane with her tandem jumper gets in position with her feet under the opening and head up, in a second they are GONE -- out of view before my brain can even register the process and try and get a sense of what is in store for my turn. My instructor taps my shoulder and much too soon i am repeating the process with my feet out of the door and eyes taking in the vastness that is around and below. It is all happening now.


Sooner than i had anticipated, i get a tap and put my head up, and we are off. We turn over and my head is leading the way, with the sky diving googles pushing up into my face, which must be scrunched up in the wind and gravity (9.8 meters/second^2) is doing its part and we are accelerating. A feeling that is unlike any i have experienced before. The visceral sense of acceleration seeps into the brain well before the conscience thought is formed. We are rotating slowly in space, all while getting up to the 120 mph that we achieve at about 5000 feet over the desert.

The whole time we are in the air, from flight to touch down, i am hyper aware that there is a finite time for each step in this experience. I want to savor each instant, both process and enjoy the entire time. During the free fall, with my head leading the way towards the ever closer ground, i want time to stand still. In a way it does.

Glancing at the jump master's watch, i see we are nearing zero on the countdown and sense him pulling the rip cord. Surprisingly, we don't get jerked right away by the chute opening. This is one of the unexpected parts of the jump, in fact. Then, the chute takes hold and we go from the roar and rush to utter silence and stillness. My reaction? A hearty belly laugh --the kind that comes from way down in your soul. Wow.

It is so pretty, the primal contrast of sky, land and water. The stillness of the parachute flight is something i could really grow to love (sorry mom!). We do a little lesson on flight control and then i am steering this bad boy to the right and left, gliding across the clear sky. That sense of finiteness is acute, because i love it so much, and i want us to stay up here for hours, not minutes. The jump-master is great, answering questions that pop into my head, but mostly we just glide and laugh.

Still falling at about 13 feet a second, after a few minutes the ground transitions from an abstract sense of colors to a plane with finite objets, topography and finally i realize that this cluster of buildings and cars is our landing point. It looks a bit like the satellite pics you see of Al'Qaeda training camps in the news. Wow, how did we end up right over head, magic? I don't want to be there quite yet, but gravity is non-negotiable.




My legs up, curled in a ball under my torso, we touch down perfectly. It is much gentler than i had anticipated, a perfect 10 landing. There is mu, taking pictures and i can't wait to give her a kiss and hug. Triumphant and overjoyed: i loved every second, no physical issues and with total alertness and enjoyment.

Success!

After all the adrenaline coursing through the body, i am left feeling pleasantly empty. The pre-game anticipatory jitters and energy have been expended, replaced with only a warm glow. A bbq of delicious sausages and some cold beer start the process of refilling, but i want to savor the aftereffects as long as possible. It has been an unforgettable day. I will have a content smile on face for hours, with the sensations and vistas of each step permanently etched into my consciences.