March 1 - Australia: Cairns, Queensland
Today is my birthday.
It's a big birthday. And not one I particularly want to celebrate. Quite the milestone. As of today, I can no longer say that I'm a twenty-something. It's a tragedy! It's a calamity!
So for my birthday, we decided that we'd jump out of an airplane. And despite my feelings of melancholy and distress, I decided that I would keep myself strapped to the dude with the parachute, rather than ending the aging process with a dramatic fall to the earth.
We met our transfer to Paul's Parachuting at 8:00AM in front of our townhouse complex. The van took us to the office, and there we met our "tandem masters" (TMs) and got suited up. We were really tempted to have the video taken of our jump, but it was super-expensive so we had to bag on it. My boy Brian (my tandem master) sat me down and we "practiced" our jump. We practiced kneeling at the door of plane, crossing my arms, rocking back and forth, arching my back as we fall, and then opening my arms when he taps my shoulder. We also practiced the landing, for which I had to lift my legs so we will slide in gracefully on our butts. So we practiced, and he looked at me and said, "OK?". And I said, "OK. Has anyone ever thrown up on the way down?". He just smiled and said that I'd be all right. Whatever you say, Bri.
Jon was paired with a TM named G.J., and Mike's TM was named Dave. As soon as we had each practiced our drops, they piled us in the van and we headed to the airport. I reminded Brian not to forget his parachute. We had all signed up for the 14,000 foot drop, which includes a 60-second freefall. In our van was another girl who signed up for the 8,000 foot freefall. A random interesting fact: her TM (his name was "Worm") had a prosthetic leg. So this is a pretty cool job for him.
Jon, Mike, and me - before leaving for the airport
At the airport, we walked out to our little twin-engine turbo prop plane and sat - one by one - on the cushion floor of the plane. We lined up in two rows, each person sitting in between the person's legs behind them. Brian and I were almost the last people in, and then the 8000-foot girl and Worm next to us.
The plane, by the way, had no door. And Mike said later that parts of the inside were duct-taped together. Glad I didn't notice that at the time. It was enough to look out of the door of this plane, knowing that I would soon be jumping out of it. My man Bri was doing an excellent job of trying to distract me by showing points of interest outside the window. I was actually taking it all very well, as long as I didn't think about the jump. We watched his altitude watch (or whatever the name of the gadget on his wrist was) as it ticked off the thousands of feet. He kept his hand either on my shoulder or on my arm, and I found the physical contact very reassuring. Then the jokes began to fly. One of the TMs made a crack about this only being his third jump. G.J. said, "Ooops. I forgot to take my medication. Don't be alarmed if I suddenly pass out." So I told him not to worry, because Jon often wets his pants. They thought that was funny.
Just before we hit 8,000 feet, the girl and Worm got ready to go. He strapped her tighter to his front as part of the prep. They kneeled at the edge of the door, and that's when her nerves started to show. Acting on instinct, she put her hands on either side of the door even though she was supposed to have them crossed across her chest. I suppose when you're looking down 8,000 feet, you want to be holding on to something. So Worm kept taking her arms and positioning them crossed in front of her. But she instinctively kept putting her hands back on the sides of the door. We cheered her on to try and distract her, but no such luck. Finally, he crossed her arms in front of her and held them there.
And then they were gone.
It was this last part that almost sent me over the edge. As soon as they dropped out I curled up against Brian and fought off some spine-tingling chills. He laughed and told me I'd be fine. I knew I would, and I was determined to do this, but the sight of them dropping out of the side of the plane made my stomach churn. As we continued up to 14,000 feet, we talked about who should go first. I told him that we would since I couldn't possibly watch another person jump out the door. So the next thing I knew, Bri was telling me it was time to kneel.
As Bri was hooking me up to him and pulling the tandem connections tighter, someone said, "Let's hear it for the birthday girl!". Then there was a whole round of Hip-Hip-Hoorays for me. It was a very cheerful send-off as I prepared to plummet to my death. And then I was told to put on my goggles because we had to get in position.
We edged closer to the door, and Bri kept telling me to get closer... closer.... closer. Instinctively, I put my hands on either side of the door. But Bri wasn't ready to go just yet so it was OK. I tried not to stare down 14,000 feet and looked back into the plane. That was when I realized what was going on around me. The guys were serenading me with "Happy Birthday"! They looked so cute - Jon and Mike each strapped up to their Tandem Master and all of them singing away. When they were finished, I gave them a big smile and Bri said, "Let's go!".
So I crossed my arms over my chest and closed my eyes as I felt Brian rock - forward, backward, and then a huge gust of wind. I opened my eyes and saw clouds flying into my face. The wind was incredibly intense, and I felt the goggles pressing tightly into my eyes. Brian tapped my shoulder, which was the sign for me to open my arms and fly. Wooooooooaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!
I tried to scream. Just so I could say that I did. But I couldn't hear a thing aside from the wind roaring through my ears. Behind me, Brian positioned his arms and legs to get us to turn this way and that way so I could enjoy the view. And sometimes he showed me his altitude gadget so I could see how fast we were falling. But all I could think was Wooooooooaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!
Then the clouds were gone and all that was left was the massive expanse of Cairns farmland below us. It was absolutely beautiful, and I tried to process the view in my head. But there was a lot going on in there, what with my brain yelling Wooooooooaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!
And then, at one insane point I thought, "Hmmmm... This isn't anything like those dreams that I have." Brian occasionally gave me the thumbs-up sign to make sure I was OK, so I made my brain function for long enough to mimic the thumbs-up. And then I thought, Wooooooooaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!
Suddenly, I felt an intense jerk and we quickly slowed down. Brian had pulled the parachute at 4,000 feet - which is required by law. My brain was still yelling Wooooooooaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!, and my breathing was really erratic. He rubbed my arms and said, "How ya doin'? Just take some long deep breaths, OK?" So I did, and I felt much better. Except that the harness was digging uncomfortably between my legs. I told Bri, so he had me lift one leg at a time so he could re-adjust the harness more comfortably. Whew. Then I felt like I could breathe more easily.
Jon and G.J. parachuted around us and Jon waved. I'm not sure how he did that. Waved, I mean. I had a firm grip on my shoulder harness and I wasn't letting go for the life of me. G.J. had given Jon the parachute controls and the two of them were swaying the chute back and forth. Me - I was hanging onto the shoulder harness like it was a life raft.
Brian did some corkscrews with the parachute, which made my stomach roll like on a roller coaster. And I yelled accordingly. But it was fun, and a bit surreal to see the parachute sometimes angled below me instead of above me. The closer we got to the ground, the easier it was to encourage the corkscrews.
Brian aimed for a small patch of grass next to some farmland, about 100 yards by 100 yards. As we came in for landing, he told me to lift my legs and he did the same. And then we were sliding across the grass on our bums. As graceful as gazelles, we were. Actually, the landing was incredibly smooth, and probably easier than if we'd try to land on our feet. As soon as we came to a stop, I let out a conquering WooooHoooo!!!!!! Like I had anything to do with the successful jump.
The driver of the van came out to arrange the parachute as Bri unhooked us from each other. Then Jon and G.J. flew in. As they were getting situated, I shakily got to my feet. Bri held out his hand to congratulate me, and I walked right up and gave him a big hug. I felt like we had just shared a near-death experience together. He thought that was funny.
Jon and I watched Mike arrive. The poor guy looked pale as a ghost with a slight tinge of green. When they came to a stop, Mike put his head in his hands and stayed still. We walked over to him and asked if he was OK. It turns out that his free-fall was fine, but when Dave pulled the parachute Mike got really queasy. He started to get some color back in his face about 10 minutes after we left the landing sight.
We loaded ourselves and the parachutes into the van and drove back into town. During the ride, we were given our "Parachute Certificates", which are silly little certificates that stand as testament to our 14K-foot jump. I say they're silly, but it's nice to have something to memorialize the trip. And it was a good closure to the morning.
Palm Cove
Back home, we got changed and packed up some stuff for our afternoon trip to the beach. We filled the cooler with drinks and snacks, and then we were off to Palm Cove. There, we found a nice little spot in the shade to read and - in Jon's case - sneeze and sniffle. Mike went for a swim inside the stinger nets and also sat out in the sun.
Palm Cove Beach - and the stinger nets
It's box jellyfish season, which is wreaking havoc on Queensland's tourism industry. Every beach has a "Stinger-safe" area that's netted off from the rest of the water. The nets protect from the very serious and painful box jellyfish, which grow in the rivers and swim out along the shoreline this time every year. Unfortunately, they don't protect from the deadly Irukandji Jellyfish, which are about the size of your thumbnail. They're quite rare, but they are about and every once in a while the news will carry an article about someone suffering from an Irukandji attack. Such a drag for such a beautiful country.
Port Douglas
After an hour and a half on the beach, we headed further north to Port Douglas. There, we got a bit to each at a small cafe, and spent the rest of the afternoon walking around town. Mike had a few souvenirs to shop for, and Jon's looking for the perfect Hawaiian shirt. Australia is big on opals here. I had no idea that opals were indigenous to Australia. Now I have another souvenir that I want. But I've already had my birthday gift of jumping out of an airplane, so the opals will have to wait.
Her Royal Highness
I almost forgot to mention this, but her Royal Highness the Queen was here in Cairns today. She's been visiting Australia, and today she was here to dedicate some airplanes for the Royal Flying Doctors. So the tandem masters we were with this morning were excited, because this meant that they got the afternoon off - the airport was closed down for 4 hours.
Dinner at The Raw Prawn
We went to the Raw Prawn for dinner, because Jon decided that I HAD to have Chili Mud Crab for my birthday. So I did. We had a lovely dinner with a nice bottle of wine in a very cool restaurant.
My Birthday Meal - before boiling |
Dinner - After his very warm swim |
The funny thing about dinner is that it took me SO LONG to eat, and I was SO HUNGRY! I'll have to remember this the next time I'm tempted to order something that comes in a shell. Way too much work. It sounded like a grand idea at the time, but it took me so long that the guys were finished with their meals twenty minutes before I'd finished mine. Then I had back-seat crab-eaters... "Heidi, did you get that part there?".... "Try using your fork to get into the shell."...and my favorite: "Want me to try?".
After dinner, we went to Cold Rock for some custom-made ice cream. (See Picture Documentary from Feb 11). I had Double Chocolate mixed with Cookie Dough.
What a great birthday! Not bad for an old fart.