Of course now when I think of it, I can only say "Yay! I finally did it." I never thought I could muster the courage to be pushed out from a plane 12,000 ft above the ground and not die from shock or panic. It wasn't that I am scared of heights, but the feeling of being pushed out from so high and from an open plane isn't the best idea and definitely not not-scary-at-all.
So after learning that my dive was cancelled at the first location (in Queenstown) because of low clouds, I was quite bummed as I had mentally prepared and planned it out. But then in few minutes I sighed relief that I can now postpone freaking out and can even tell friends "You know I tried, but the weather blah blah blah." :D As we were leaving Queenstown for our next destination the next day and a slot could not be confirmed, the woman at the counter suggested we return during the winters for a better view during the jump. Although I wasn't fully convinced, I did not have much choice then. As we drove to Wanaka the next day, we came across a board that read Wanaka Skydive. And on thinking further, we realized that if we tried, we could accommodate this in our next day's plan. So, we immediately called up and booked a slot (me and a friend) for next morning. Maybe we were really destined to be pushed off a plane in that trip. It was more like Now or Never kind of a situation we were in.
Unlike last time, we did not speak much about it the previous night, did not check the weather, or even inform anyone. The next morning we woke up to a cloudy sky again. This was even worse than the first time our dive was cancelled. We still went to the place hoping for some better news. They asked us to return by 12:00 noon hoping the skies would clear by then.
By 11:30 a.m. a little blue started to appear above and we quickly drove to the place to check on our dive. On reaching we were told yes. And I still remember the look on our faces that time when we got to know that we would actually be doing this in few hours.
It all happened very fast after that as a lot of people had turned up by then. We were given a few documents to read and sign. We were shown a video of do's and don'ts. Just a few simple instructions on how to keep the head tilted back on facing the open door of the plane, keeping the lower portion of legs folded back, and raising hands on being tapped. That surely wasn't a lot, but at that moment it felt like we were sure to forget all of it this while up there.
We were asked to choose between 15,000 ft and 12,000 ft at the counter and were given a brief on how long the whole process would take. After the necessary formalities, we waited outside as a batch ahead of us was getting ready to leave. Watching their enthusiasm and confidence freaked us out further. All we were trying to do was imagine and laugh at all sort of scenarios about the jump. After about 15 minutes, we proceeded to the section where we would actually get ready for the jump. We covered ourselves with those cool looking orange dive suits, eye gear, gloves, caps, and helmets. It took a while to wear all of it, walk about, and get comfortable.
There were around 10 of us in our batch and each of us was assigned a tandem instructor. My instructor's name was Chris. He was a gorgeous, tall, guy, helping me as much possible to cheer up and look forward to the jump. We shot a brief video with my husband and boy, and with my friend, and headed towards the plane. I asked Chris how many times he had done this earlier. His answer was "6000." I felt a tad more safer but just exclaimed "Woah!". As my friend and I were the only ones in our batch who had opted for the 12,000 ft height, we would be getting off first (Imagine that). I thought I would still have some time up there consoling and motivating myself. By now I had actually started questioning my decision of even getting into this in the first place. (Yes, not necessary at all). Anyway, I could not chicken out in front of all those and the 6000-time diver Chris and pretended to be all looking forward to it.
The plane started to move and I saw my friend who was now sitting by the door with his instructor panicking. (Yes, he would be going down first. Thank God. :D) I do not really recollect what we were thinking or speaking then. He just kept worrying if his shoes would fall off. After the plane had what we thought gained sufficient incline, I asked our instructors "So, what height would this be?" One of them casually retorted "Umm, about 6,000 ft." We just looked at each other and kept mum pretending we weren't regretting this at all. After few more minutes, my friend's instructor lifted the door of the plane. Even before I could breathe and say a bye and wish him luck, I saw him leave, at that moment still looking at his shoes, I am sure he had forgotten all those head tilting, banana position instructions for sure. Even as I was processing this scene, I could feel being dragged near the door without any cooperation from my side. So, the moment had come. I could now only look at dear darling Mother Earth below waiting for me. I immediately tilted back my head to avoid seeing and feeling anything further and felt a hard push or (was it a pull).
For a quick second, I went blank, it was like instantly letting go of your body and senses. I couldn't think that moment. Everything went quiet and I could only see blue all around. Almost immediately I felt my instructor's tap and I instinctively raised my hands. It was then that I regained my sense to check if my legs were placed as expected. They were. :-) And after that, it was all happening in a flash. I think I almost saw the shape of earth, patches of green and blue, some mountains, a beautiful blue river trail, all at one glimpse. It is amazing what those eyes of ours can actually do in just a matter of few seconds.
Apart from a sharp pain in my ears, there wasn't much discomfort I actually felt out there. I wasn't very excited to pose. I just wanted to process those million thoughts and views around me. (The next time I jump, I am not opting for the pictures is what I decided right up there). In about a minute, I felt being suspended from a very heavy object and heaved a sigh when I saw that yellow parachute spread its wings atop. I was asked to hold it for a moment and pose (which again I just obliged like I was doing a favor on the instructor).
And then I began to feel like a bird (I know it is a cliche, but who else flies like that I could compare myself to). Light and high, gliding about, looking at world differently and from such a distance, all by myself, without support of anything or anyone. It must feel so wonderful to be able detach yourself from the ground below you and bask in that freedom until your feet touch the ground again (Referring to the birds again as only they can do this, naturally). And after 4 to 5 long minutes, I landed. Almost quiet smoothly into my safe zone, where I truly belong. The instructor and I took one final yes-we-survived selfie, hi fi ed, and headed back our ways. He for the next jump, and me waiting to share the details with my people back there.
Oh, and Chris of course did ask me if I will be jumping off the plane ever again in my life. I think I gave the most energetic "Yes" as a reply, and I for sure wasn't lying. :-)
So after learning that my dive was cancelled at the first location (in Queenstown) because of low clouds, I was quite bummed as I had mentally prepared and planned it out. But then in few minutes I sighed relief that I can now postpone freaking out and can even tell friends "You know I tried, but the weather blah blah blah." :D As we were leaving Queenstown for our next destination the next day and a slot could not be confirmed, the woman at the counter suggested we return during the winters for a better view during the jump. Although I wasn't fully convinced, I did not have much choice then. As we drove to Wanaka the next day, we came across a board that read Wanaka Skydive. And on thinking further, we realized that if we tried, we could accommodate this in our next day's plan. So, we immediately called up and booked a slot (me and a friend) for next morning. Maybe we were really destined to be pushed off a plane in that trip. It was more like Now or Never kind of a situation we were in.
Unlike last time, we did not speak much about it the previous night, did not check the weather, or even inform anyone. The next morning we woke up to a cloudy sky again. This was even worse than the first time our dive was cancelled. We still went to the place hoping for some better news. They asked us to return by 12:00 noon hoping the skies would clear by then.
By 11:30 a.m. a little blue started to appear above and we quickly drove to the place to check on our dive. On reaching we were told yes. And I still remember the look on our faces that time when we got to know that we would actually be doing this in few hours.
It all happened very fast after that as a lot of people had turned up by then. We were given a few documents to read and sign. We were shown a video of do's and don'ts. Just a few simple instructions on how to keep the head tilted back on facing the open door of the plane, keeping the lower portion of legs folded back, and raising hands on being tapped. That surely wasn't a lot, but at that moment it felt like we were sure to forget all of it this while up there.
We were asked to choose between 15,000 ft and 12,000 ft at the counter and were given a brief on how long the whole process would take. After the necessary formalities, we waited outside as a batch ahead of us was getting ready to leave. Watching their enthusiasm and confidence freaked us out further. All we were trying to do was imagine and laugh at all sort of scenarios about the jump. After about 15 minutes, we proceeded to the section where we would actually get ready for the jump. We covered ourselves with those cool looking orange dive suits, eye gear, gloves, caps, and helmets. It took a while to wear all of it, walk about, and get comfortable.
 |
| Freaking out but staying cool |
 |
| Just before getting into the plane |
For a quick second, I went blank, it was like instantly letting go of your body and senses. I couldn't think that moment. Everything went quiet and I could only see blue all around. Almost immediately I felt my instructor's tap and I instinctively raised my hands. It was then that I regained my sense to check if my legs were placed as expected. They were. :-) And after that, it was all happening in a flash. I think I almost saw the shape of earth, patches of green and blue, some mountains, a beautiful blue river trail, all at one glimpse. It is amazing what those eyes of ours can actually do in just a matter of few seconds.
Apart from a sharp pain in my ears, there wasn't much discomfort I actually felt out there. I wasn't very excited to pose. I just wanted to process those million thoughts and views around me. (The next time I jump, I am not opting for the pictures is what I decided right up there). In about a minute, I felt being suspended from a very heavy object and heaved a sigh when I saw that yellow parachute spread its wings atop. I was asked to hold it for a moment and pose (which again I just obliged like I was doing a favor on the instructor).
And then I began to feel like a bird (I know it is a cliche, but who else flies like that I could compare myself to). Light and high, gliding about, looking at world differently and from such a distance, all by myself, without support of anything or anyone. It must feel so wonderful to be able detach yourself from the ground below you and bask in that freedom until your feet touch the ground again (Referring to the birds again as only they can do this, naturally). And after 4 to 5 long minutes, I landed. Almost quiet smoothly into my safe zone, where I truly belong. The instructor and I took one final yes-we-survived selfie, hi fi ed, and headed back our ways. He for the next jump, and me waiting to share the details with my people back there.
Oh, and Chris of course did ask me if I will be jumping off the plane ever again in my life. I think I gave the most energetic "Yes" as a reply, and I for sure wasn't lying. :-)
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