After weeks of anticipation and anxiety (for some more than others), long journeys to Ely, a night in the local Travelodge and an interesting “last LITTLE CHEF breakfast” – Stephanie, Camille, Laura, Alex and Sofia travelled to Chatteris Airfield to make the jump.
Accompanying the GHM crew for both moral and photographic support were Elisabeth and Gabrielle. We arrived at the airfield at half nine, where we proceeded to register. Despite the warnings of the possible risks – including injury and death – we signed the releases, were allocated jump order numbers, given training and asked to wait outside until our names were called upon the loud speaker. Unlike the frustration of waiting at the doctor’s office, there was some comfort when unfamiliar names were ordered to ‘suit-up.’
The morning went fairly well – but then some sort of weather front came in from some direction causing some disturbance, thereby grounding the plane until further notice. The online MET report did not look good and we were told that the possibility of jumping was becoming less and less likely. However, knowing the unpredictability of British weather and the inaccuracy of weather reporting in general (no offence to our hard working meteorologists) – the GHM Crew decided to ‘ride out the storm’, including the thunder and lightning and darkening clouds.
Around 2pm, Chris and Peter, the back-up moral and photographic supporters arrived. By this time the enthusiasm of some of the would-be jumpers was waning. After a delicious picnic and many calls for giving up, our own Peter Barker stepped in and assured us that the weather would improve. Within the hour, after a game of Frisbee and a few driving lessons, the screech of the loud speaker signalled it was time to jump.
By this time the initial nerves had settled … well… for most. We suited up with the help of our tandem leaders and walked the ‘plank’ towards the plane. As we were ushered into the plane, with its deafening motor…I think the initial nerves returned. There were lots of anxious looks…hugs…hand shakes…forced smiles…goodbyes…good lucks.
Our tandem instructors reminded us of all the things we were expected to do, some making jokes in an effort to reduce mounting tensions. Then the door was opened. I was the second last to jump so I had the unfortunate pleasure of watching many of the people I hold very dear fall from the plane; which I assure you is far more traumatic than being ushered towards the open door.
When my turn arrived I felt an innate desire to escape the situation – flight or fight – but either way it looked as though the only way out was down. So I shuffled towards the door – trying not to look down – I put my thumbs around my harness, my legs underneath the plane and my head on the right shoulder of my tandem instructor. Then without much warning out we went…it was the coldness and the way it hits you that I remember most vividly…that and the noise of the wind…I don’t remember feeling like I was falling.
After the parachute was pulled – things went silent. And I felt peace for the first time in 5 months … the first time since losing Greg and as I sailed to the ground I promised I would hold on to that moment forever and revisit it whenever I could …
Laura Manni
