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Umm Al Quwain: Jumping out of an airplane from 9,000 feet up, bound to the front of a man I had met only hours earlier, probably constitutes the dumbest thing I have ever embarked on in my all-too short life.
It also rates pretty far up on the crazy-o-meter. It also tops the list of the most exciting five minutes of my life.
It all started with a chance meeting. Sent to photograph Julie Amer of Mountain High for an article about International Women's Day, she inquired would I be interested in a parachute jump to mark the occasion. "No, that's not really my thing," I replied.
The idea stuck in my head though and I realised that perhaps skydiving was what I needed to do to shake up my life a little. "What do I need to do to make this happen?" I asked Julie on the phone the next day. She said that 17 others would also be jumping and asked if I could raise a minimum of Dh3,000 to benefit the Breast Cancer Foundation of the Emirates, as the jump would be a Tickled Pink event.
With less than a week to go to the date I was a little nervous about having to raise the money. However, thanks to the Dubai Racing Club and my friends and colleagues, I was able to raise Dh3,700 for the charity. A big thank you everyone who sponsored me.
The day arrived and out to the Umm Al Quwain aeroclub I went. I had imagined that we would all go up together or in small groups in a cargo-type plane and jump. This was not the case at all.
The planes that we were jumping from were tiny - there was only room for five people, including the pilot, and no door, just a big old view out the side. Most of the jumpers asked for a video of the experience, which meant that the videographer took up one spot, the jumper another and the instructor that the jumper would be paired with took up the third spot. So we were almost all to jump one-by-one.
My instructor was J.J. Raath, an easy-going South African. He calmly talked me through the whole experience, showed me how to position my body for the various stages of the jump and got me strapped into the harness that would bind the two of us together and keep me from plunging to my death.
The worst part of the whole experience is how long the plane takes to reach the appropriate altitude. It took about 20-25 minutes of circling around the gorgeous Umm Al Quwain coastline to reach 9,000 feet. Now, I'm not complaining about the view. It was truly stunning. But it wasn't until we were up in the air that I actually seriously considered what I was about to do. What the heck was I thinking? And 25 minutes contemplating the idea of having to throw myself out the door was about 20 minutes too long.
I took a few last photos of myself and J.J. as he made sure our harnesses were securely fastened and, man, did I look stressed! Handing my camera to the pilot for safe keeping, I swung my legs out the door and onto the wheels of the small plane.
The air is quite cold up so high, and I was consciously aware of the bite of the wind against my hands as I held onto my harness. From behind me J.J. gave one last check that I was okay, rocked me forward, back and then we fell.
We tumbled head over tail twice, righting ourselves. Within 10 seconds we reached terminal velocity, the maximum speed at which a freefalling object can travel. At that point the South African tapped my hands, indicating I could let go of my harness and put my hands out in front of me to feel the wind. For exactly 32 seconds we free-fell. It was a breezy but exhilarating feeling. My heart was in my throat, but a big smile took over my face and I just enjoyed the feeling of falling. Then J.J. placed my hands back onto my harness shortly before yanking the cord of the chute and pulling us up short.
The pressure of the chute catching the wind forces the legs down and I felt the harness pull tightly against my chest.
And from there on in we simply floated down. I got a chance to steer, pulling on handheld toggles that turned us left and right. My instructor proceeded to swing us around, taking my breath away and flip-flopping my stomach as we defied gravity by stopping in mid-air. "People always tell me what a good job I have, but I think yours might be better," I told J.J.
It felt like we hovered for ages. We steered towards a small patch of green, which grew in size as we approached. "Lift your feet in the air," J.J. called out to me. We came in amazingly smoothly and his feet touched down first, taking the force of the landing.
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