Margin of Error

#33, 34, 35 26-07-12
 
Exits and landings. The beginning and the end of the jump. The bits I suck at. Exits have always been an issue, but a couple of rough landings had knocked my confidence. So with summer finally arriving and providing weather that made it criminal to stay inside I headed for the drop zone to finally get in a day of hardcore jumping.

On my first jump the exit was poor. I rolled right and by the time I sorted out my arch I was far enough over that I completed the rotation instead of rocking back. From there I followed the plan, straight down with some turns, including seeing how fast I could spin whilst remaining in control. The rest of the jump and deployment went fine, but as I got below 500' I started to worry about the landing.

I realise now that I was concerned about flaring too high. At some point in the manoeuvre the forward and downward speed of the canopy both reach zero - the perfect time to land. However, after that the canopy will collapse, dropping you out of the sky. A lack of currency (I'd made 3 jumps all year) had left me without the confidence of exactly when to flare, and not wanting to commit to it fully. This led to me coming in too fast, and having to PLF or slide it out. And so it went with jump one.

As I got up I knew I hadn't pulled the toggles all the way down to complete the flare. The Polish instructor on my last jump had highlighted it then as well. At the other end of the jump I believed if I committed more to my exit, made it a more determined, aggressive move, it might be better.

I put this into practice on jump two. I leaped from the plane, straight into a tracking pose. However, I hadn't considered that the forces on me are different at exit compared to freefall, and found myself plunging towards the earth. Uneven airflow over my shoulders quickly turned this into a spiral. The effect was unexpected and completely, well, fantastic. Tracking forwards is like flying, this was something else. As my speed increased I levelled off and then flew forwards, tracking perpendicular to the jump run. Unable to see my altimeter I correctly guessed 9000', turned and tracked back, opening almost exactly were I had exited.

This time I flared strongly as I approached the ground, and was rewarded with a perfect tip-toes landing. It was probably my best ever and I couldn't keep the grin off my face afterwards.

Jump three was something of an anticlimax. I put my arms forward on another aggressive exit to try and level myself out, but still ended up spinning. Again my tracking was good and I had time to think about my body position and adjust it as I fell. The increase in forward speed was noticeable and satisfying.

The winds had increased on this jump so another stand-up landing was expected and I managed it well. As I started collecting up my canopy several students landed close by. Watching their inexperience I realised that flaring is not as precise an art as I had somehow made it in my head. A canopy doesn't collapse the second it stops moving forwards, but drift leisurely down for a while first. With this psychological block broken I believe I'm now competent at the important end of the jump. Now I just need to sort out the other.

The International Language of Skydiving

Jump #32 16-07-12

A wonderful thing about skydiving is that if you're "soloing" - jumping on your own - once your out of the plane it doesn't matter where in the world you are, the sky is the sky. As long as you've done your homework on the drop zone it can be anywhere on the planet and it wont make any difference - if you're current and confident you should be fine.

With this in mind I found myself becoming less and less nervous as we climbed to altitude above SKYDIVE PETE. The chances of anything happening that would require me to attempt to communicate with the Polish-speaking jumpers around me reduced as time went on, and I knew soon it would just be me and the big blue sky.

There wasn't really much to make me apprehensive. The past hour had filled me with confidence. Deep in the heart of Poland I was still surprised that no one at the drop zone spoke English, which is the international language of the sky and therefore spoken by many pilots and jumpers that have a different native language, and having to rely on Monika to help talk to the staff and fill out the forms had been difficult but the manner in which it had all been done had been highly professional. They had asked all the right questions and I had given all the right answers. We had travelled some distance to get to the drop zone but if I had seen anything that I wasn't happy with I would have had no problem walking away with jumping.

L-410. A great jumpship.

My concerns proved completely unfounded, and I was fully questioned and briefed before I was allowed anywhere near any kit. I had decided to go for a bigger parachute, something slower and safer, and the instructor working with me had apparently made the same decision. With a 240 square foot main strapped to my back I made my way to the L-410 jump-plane. It was excellent, well maintained and fast with seating along either side and enough space to do gear checks on the way to altitude. As we made our way up I got into the zone, running through what should happen on the jump and what could happen. Despite having a tandem student to worry about the instructor that had briefed me noticed my state of mind and uttered some rare English: "Relax." I like to think he had misinterpreted my mood.

One thing I noticed as we climbed was that all the jumpers around me were on rental kit like me, none had there own rig. It was Friday evening, these men were obviously committed skydivers but I guess gear is harder to come by in Poland.

Just another skydive.

As people started to exit if you'd asked me I wouldn't have remembered I was in Poland, surrounded by people I couldn't talk to. This was a jump like any other. My turn came up and there was no hesitation, I was out. My exit was ok, still with a bit of rotation, and I was soon stable and enjoying the Polish countryside, which wouldn't have looked out of place around Headcorn. At pull height I got a beautiful, on-heading opening. As I descended I was thrown by the size of the drop zone below me. It was bisected by a huge tarmac runway that was large enough to throw off my sense of scale, and I constantly felt lower than I was. I made sure to fly a perfect pattern but overflew my intended landing spot and flared slightly early. I controlled it and landed smoothly, quite proud of myself. My first jump in a non-English speaking country had been the best of the year.

Skydive Pete is a fantastic drop zone, modern, safe and cheap, and I would recommend it to anyone in the area. You'll need to speak Polish, unless you're lucky enough to have a personal translator like me. Still, I plan on brushing up on "Polish for Jumpers" then I'll be back.