Hi all,
I'm almost too tired to type, but let me try and capture the day in a few sentences before stumbling off to shower and bed.
Day 1. We have 159 women on site after the hurricane, motorcycle accidents, and personal drama have lowered our counts. The Germans finally made it sometime last night/this morning after a 24 hour hold in transit from Frankfurt to here. They still had smiles on their faces. Team Norway hands down won the best dressed award, showing up for opening ceremonies in matching outfits and shoes and, I've been told, underwear although I did not personally inspect that. The Germans also have matching shirts. Great spirit. Mallory and Lambchop opened up the event, Richard gave a talk (and song) and off to the dirt dives we went.
Three groups. A 70 way base (run by me), and two 40-50 way groups--each run by Tony and Roger with volunteers laying the base so the whackers could dock on them.
My dive was out of 5 airplanes and we were first group going. Our first jump was great. One early person in a wrong slot caused some chaos and mayhem but most of the gals were in, although struggling with fallrate. I'm wearing about 20 pounds in the base and we are setting a mid 120's fall rate although it is low teens by the outside. We need, I think, to have the entire 70 way going at 118 or so to allow the whackers time and comfort to dock.
Jump 2. More of the same. Grips off a completion. one lady a bit lost docking about 10 seconds after the most of the rest of the gang, still working on getting fall rate.
Jump 3 was up and as we ran in, at 16,500, I looked down and saw nothing but white. Completely jumpable many places in the world, but I'm not going to put a 5 plane formation load through clouds. The green light goes on, and horrors--the trail planes start climbing out even though they are supposed to wait for a signal from the lead plane. I abort the jumprun and close our door (skyvan) hoping this will send a solid message through. All but two floaters made it back in, but the two, one camera and one jumper, fell off to do solos. Oh well. Back on oxygen for a go around and I go up to talk with the pilot. It's closing in but he thinks we can be put--with visibility, near the airport. Run in and this time the abort comes from the pilots. Back up for conference. Again--he thinks there is a hole. Run in--we've been above 16,000 feet for over an hour now--and we don't even get a green light. Third times the charm and we're landing. Jeez. An hour at altitude AND I have to land in a Skyvan. One of the trail planes had girls puking from the excitement and tension. It doesn't get much more fun that that.
Get to the ground and work on plan b--dirt diving the 160 way--and then the clouds open. 5 minute call for our load--we're up, on jump run--with clouds climbing from 11-16,000 feet all around us, and YES--I see the DZ and our hole. Out and go. Great skydive--but one area, behind me, didn't close, not sure why. Land and see people pointing up. Sure enough. There is a canopy at about 14,000 feet. Extraction on exit. Doh. Mental note--discuss pin checks and climb out sequences. Marie is fine, landing about 10 minutes later and we pack.
Now for the dirt dive. One gal had a bad landing so our numbers are down to, I think, 158. We reconfigure the formation and exits, do a frenzied jumpsuit share program since one of our jumpsuit vendors hasn't delivered a dozen suits or so, and get the picture ready for the judges. Tomorrow morning we start record dives.
I'll update tomorrow.
Until then.....
blue skies, pink suits
kate
