This story is dedicated to Pete Swan, my rigger,
owner of Independent Rigging
who has saved my life twice.
HOP 'N POP
Saturday, 09/06/06
Every once in a while I like to do a full altitude hop' n pop; jumping out of a perfectly good airplane, to deploy my parachute without significant freefall from an altitude of more than two and a half miles. There is nothing like the rush of adrenalin, fresh chilled air, the view and a flight time under parachute that can last ten to fifteen minutes. Most the time we skydivers exit the aircraft and freefall. We open our parachutes at two to three thousand feet above ground after a freefall of just over a minute.
It was a busy day at the parachute drop zone that September Saturday, busy enough to fly two aircraft full of skydivers. Prior to boarding, I asked for a pin check from another skydiver. A pin check includes an inspection of the main and reserve parachute bag pins to insure the pins are properly seated and there is nothing to prevent either parachute from activating properly. Then all the rest of the equipment gets a look over to check that pilot chute bridal and harness straps are proper, and all else is good to go but the ultimate responsibility for the safety of any skydive rests with each skydiver. I was flying in a twin turboprop Beechcraft 99 which holds twenty fully equipped skydivers. The other plane also a twin turboprop is called an Otter which holds 24 skydivers. When boarding, I entered the plane first because on this flight, I will be the last skydiver out. I told the pilot, of my intentions so he can warn other aircraft and make adjustments to flight procedure as necessary. One such adjustment Stretch, our pilot, had to make to facilitate my jump was to extend my exit point. Stretch told me the other jump plane would be following us with a load. Because I was deploying my parachute high, he was going to put me out two miles south of the normal exit point. This cleared the airspace for the jumpers leaving the Otter. I could easily make up the difference in my parachute flight.
At ten thousand feet, everybody jumping began equipment checks, putting on headgear and goggles, cinching up harnesses and all the other things we do to prepare for a safe skydive. I relaxed against the forward cabin bulkhead to await my turn. At 13 thousand 5 hundred feet, we started jump run. I felt the plane slow as the engines throttled back, and flaps extended. The four foot square clear plastic door at the back left of the cabin rolled open. I watched as the load of skydivers departed into the wind.
With the cabin now empty except for me, we flew south two more miles right over the tiny town of Acampo. As the plane slowed for a second jump run, I thanked Stretch, made my way to the door, Closed the visor on my helmet, faced the direction of flight and stepped out into that “footless hall of air.”
PLAN "A"
There I floated face to the planet as I watched the plane dive away. Reaching for a small inch of neon orange plastic PVC tube stitched to the apex of my pilot chute I pulled, extending my right arm fully which extracted the pilot chute from its spandex pocket on the bottom right of the main pack. I let it go to allow the tiny chute a bite into that rush of air. This began a parade of parachute parts all connected to each following one after the other. The activation sequence continued; the bridle stretched full length flipping open the pin cover and pulling the pin free of the nylon loop that holds the main parachute bag closed. Four container flaps open releasing the main bag still containing the folded main parachute, which then lifted off my back. Lines bundled zigzag fashion and held with six to eight rubber bands release. Right, left, right again until each rubber band stow let go of its bite of the line bundle. When the lines stretch full length, the parachute is pulled from the bag and the main parachute is exposed finally able to inflate. The center cell of seven billows full followed by each on either side until the parachute takes the form of a wing in flight.
As the main parachute filled, the drag caused my feet to swing gently to earth pulling my body vertical, upright. The orderly deployment sequence allows a slow comfortable deceleration from what normally would be a terminal velocity of 125 MPH. I looked up to watch this minor miracle of technology take place, but I noticed something different, something I have only seen in photographs but never in real life before, something new! My main parachute was flying straight and level, fully inflated but below that beautiful life saving orange and blue canopy the lines were twisted into a long rope!
Now it gets REAL interesting!
I had deployed before coming anywhere near terminal velocity. My body speed, sub-terminal, was too slow to prevent “bag spin”. During deployment as the main bag lifted off my back, it spun as the pilot chute stretched out the lines. I have done this kind of jump many times without a hitch but this jump would be very different! Skydiving equipment operates like a chain of events that are supposed to happen predictably on cue. Doing "a" leads to "b" and so on... Think "sequence"...but each little event must happen as planned. The goal is to survive the skydive.
On this jump as the lines unstowed, my slow fall rate, or vertical speed, was slow. When the first stow released, it spun the bag. The bag continued to spin until full line stretch. In aviation, unplanned spinning of anything is not good!
I've had line twist before, and it is not uncommon. Every skydiver trains for line twist. But my attempt to correct this problem did not. Thus began a bad string of connected calamity.
I tried to kick out the twists with a peddle motion of my legs which is standard operating procedure for dealing with line twist. But there were so many line twists the effort produced the opposite effect. My shifted body position distorted the harness which tugged at the lines enough to cause the main to deform into a slight twist. Think wing warp! It was wing warp that controlled the Wright Brothers Flyer but this was the wrong application of that technology!
To illustrate; a propeller is a wing with a twist. A modern sport parachute is also a wing. Like a propeller, a twisted parachute wants to go around and around flying a spiral, a constant tight turn. A spinning parachute will face the earth, and cork screw into the ground at an unsurvivable rate of speed. The line tug caused the main to spin which made the lines lock tight due to centripetal force. The spin flung me to the horizon. This was not a recoverable situation!
PLAN "B"
I found the cutaway handle, also called a pud located at the bottom of my right rib cage. The pud is a small red rectangle shaped pillow made to comfortably fit into a nervous fist. The pud is held to the right side of the harness by a hidden Velcro strip. Two yellow Teflon coated cables are attached to the top of the pud. These cables are concealed in metal flex tubes that lead to and are threaded through the main release loops at the top of both shoulders. A firm pull on the pud separates everything above shoulders; risers, the line set, and the now spinning main parachute. This put me back into freefall...for a moment and started another chain of events.
The RSL: Reserve Static Line, is attached to the departing, “cut away” main parachute, at one end and the reserve pin at the other. It pulled the reserve pin and activated the reserve pilot chute. The RSL is an optional backup to the reserve activation handle located on my left chest. The handle looks like a silver metal "D" big enough for both hands to grab. When a reserve activates, there are three differences from main parachute activation.
· The reserve pilot chute is spring loaded and fires away from the skydiver.
· The reserve pilot chute, bridle, and reserve bag (AKA freebag) completely separate.
· There is no plan "C".
IT HAPPENS QUICK!
Before I could pull my reserve handle, the RSL had done its job. The reserve parachute is packed to open very quickly. I did not get to watch its deployment sequence. I remember still being slightly horizontal when the reserve parachute was fully inflated and flying. Of course, I was very happy to now be under a good reserve canopy which flew just fine but In comparison to my main parachute, the reserve chute flew more like a truck than an airplane but it was controllable and with effort, I was able to find and follow my now separated gear.
BACK IN THE SADDLE AGAIN
The main parachute assembly was now a ground bound wad of laundry. The reserve bag and bridle hung below the pilot chute and were flying just slightly below and in front of me. I looked at my altimeter and I was just below twelve thousand feet. The main was falling fast and was a now a few hundred feet below me. I was able to fly to, and keep up with the reserve pilot chute. Yes I could have caught the pilot chute, but the risk is that the freebag and reserve pilot chute assembly could ensnare my lines, and choke the reserve parachute. Remember; there is no plan "C". So there I was missing and unknown, flying two miles from where anyone would expect me to be, flying circles around my descending equipment.
NO WHERE TO LAND
At four thousand feet, I watched as the main parachute hit the ground. I looked around and I realized that there was no safe place to land, below, only vineyard stakes that stretched for more than a mile in all directions. Forced to abandon my very expensive equipment, I headed northeast to the nearest landing area I could find. To squeeze as much distance as I could, I tucked my legs up and pulled my steering toggles down to extend my glide. I made it as far as a freeway clover leaf with enough altitude left to fly a proper landing pattern; downwind to the east, a short base and final. On final, I tested the breaks by pumping both steering toggles together. I determined that I will be coming in fast and hard...oooh this might hurt. Back into full flight, I pulled briefly on the front risers to speed the parachute because more speed means more air for the breaks to work with to soften the landing. The small stuff got large and then contact. The ground was very rough and not worth a busted ankle so I was content to just skid in on my butt. Yeah it hurt a little, but I stood up, and found that everything still works. I survived this skydive my first parachute malfunction in nearly nine hundred skydives! I managed a hitch hike back to the airport and returned to search for my lost equipment. I found the main right away and spent three hours searching for the free bag assembly. I found it the next morning after another two hour search.
Saturday, 09/06/06
Every once in a while I like to do a full altitude hop' n pop; jumping out of a perfectly good airplane, to deploy my parachute without significant freefall from an altitude of more than two and a half miles. There is nothing like the rush of adrenalin, fresh chilled air, the view and a flight time under parachute that can last ten to fifteen minutes. Most the time we skydivers exit the aircraft and freefall. We open our parachutes at two to three thousand feet above ground after a freefall of just over a minute.
It was a busy day at the parachute drop zone that September Saturday, busy enough to fly two aircraft full of skydivers. Prior to boarding, I asked for a pin check from another skydiver. A pin check includes an inspection of the main and reserve parachute bag pins to insure the pins are properly seated and there is nothing to prevent either parachute from activating properly. Then all the rest of the equipment gets a look over to check that pilot chute bridal and harness straps are proper, and all else is good to go but the ultimate responsibility for the safety of any skydive rests with each skydiver. I was flying in a twin turboprop Beechcraft 99 which holds twenty fully equipped skydivers. The other plane also a twin turboprop is called an Otter which holds 24 skydivers. When boarding, I entered the plane first because on this flight, I will be the last skydiver out. I told the pilot, of my intentions so he can warn other aircraft and make adjustments to flight procedure as necessary. One such adjustment Stretch, our pilot, had to make to facilitate my jump was to extend my exit point. Stretch told me the other jump plane would be following us with a load. Because I was deploying my parachute high, he was going to put me out two miles south of the normal exit point. This cleared the airspace for the jumpers leaving the Otter. I could easily make up the difference in my parachute flight.
At ten thousand feet, everybody jumping began equipment checks, putting on headgear and goggles, cinching up harnesses and all the other things we do to prepare for a safe skydive. I relaxed against the forward cabin bulkhead to await my turn. At 13 thousand 5 hundred feet, we started jump run. I felt the plane slow as the engines throttled back, and flaps extended. The four foot square clear plastic door at the back left of the cabin rolled open. I watched as the load of skydivers departed into the wind.
With the cabin now empty except for me, we flew south two more miles right over the tiny town of Acampo. As the plane slowed for a second jump run, I thanked Stretch, made my way to the door, Closed the visor on my helmet, faced the direction of flight and stepped out into that “footless hall of air.”
PLAN "A"
There I floated face to the planet as I watched the plane dive away. Reaching for a small inch of neon orange plastic PVC tube stitched to the apex of my pilot chute I pulled, extending my right arm fully which extracted the pilot chute from its spandex pocket on the bottom right of the main pack. I let it go to allow the tiny chute a bite into that rush of air. This began a parade of parachute parts all connected to each following one after the other. The activation sequence continued; the bridle stretched full length flipping open the pin cover and pulling the pin free of the nylon loop that holds the main parachute bag closed. Four container flaps open releasing the main bag still containing the folded main parachute, which then lifted off my back. Lines bundled zigzag fashion and held with six to eight rubber bands release. Right, left, right again until each rubber band stow let go of its bite of the line bundle. When the lines stretch full length, the parachute is pulled from the bag and the main parachute is exposed finally able to inflate. The center cell of seven billows full followed by each on either side until the parachute takes the form of a wing in flight.
As the main parachute filled, the drag caused my feet to swing gently to earth pulling my body vertical, upright. The orderly deployment sequence allows a slow comfortable deceleration from what normally would be a terminal velocity of 125 MPH. I looked up to watch this minor miracle of technology take place, but I noticed something different, something I have only seen in photographs but never in real life before, something new! My main parachute was flying straight and level, fully inflated but below that beautiful life saving orange and blue canopy the lines were twisted into a long rope!
Now it gets REAL interesting!
I had deployed before coming anywhere near terminal velocity. My body speed, sub-terminal, was too slow to prevent “bag spin”. During deployment as the main bag lifted off my back, it spun as the pilot chute stretched out the lines. I have done this kind of jump many times without a hitch but this jump would be very different! Skydiving equipment operates like a chain of events that are supposed to happen predictably on cue. Doing "a" leads to "b" and so on... Think "sequence"...but each little event must happen as planned. The goal is to survive the skydive.
On this jump as the lines unstowed, my slow fall rate, or vertical speed, was slow. When the first stow released, it spun the bag. The bag continued to spin until full line stretch. In aviation, unplanned spinning of anything is not good!
I've had line twist before, and it is not uncommon. Every skydiver trains for line twist. But my attempt to correct this problem did not. Thus began a bad string of connected calamity.
I tried to kick out the twists with a peddle motion of my legs which is standard operating procedure for dealing with line twist. But there were so many line twists the effort produced the opposite effect. My shifted body position distorted the harness which tugged at the lines enough to cause the main to deform into a slight twist. Think wing warp! It was wing warp that controlled the Wright Brothers Flyer but this was the wrong application of that technology!
To illustrate; a propeller is a wing with a twist. A modern sport parachute is also a wing. Like a propeller, a twisted parachute wants to go around and around flying a spiral, a constant tight turn. A spinning parachute will face the earth, and cork screw into the ground at an unsurvivable rate of speed. The line tug caused the main to spin which made the lines lock tight due to centripetal force. The spin flung me to the horizon. This was not a recoverable situation!
PLAN "B"
I found the cutaway handle, also called a pud located at the bottom of my right rib cage. The pud is a small red rectangle shaped pillow made to comfortably fit into a nervous fist. The pud is held to the right side of the harness by a hidden Velcro strip. Two yellow Teflon coated cables are attached to the top of the pud. These cables are concealed in metal flex tubes that lead to and are threaded through the main release loops at the top of both shoulders. A firm pull on the pud separates everything above shoulders; risers, the line set, and the now spinning main parachute. This put me back into freefall...for a moment and started another chain of events.
The RSL: Reserve Static Line, is attached to the departing, “cut away” main parachute, at one end and the reserve pin at the other. It pulled the reserve pin and activated the reserve pilot chute. The RSL is an optional backup to the reserve activation handle located on my left chest. The handle looks like a silver metal "D" big enough for both hands to grab. When a reserve activates, there are three differences from main parachute activation.
· The reserve pilot chute is spring loaded and fires away from the skydiver.
· The reserve pilot chute, bridle, and reserve bag (AKA freebag) completely separate.
· There is no plan "C".
IT HAPPENS QUICK!
Before I could pull my reserve handle, the RSL had done its job. The reserve parachute is packed to open very quickly. I did not get to watch its deployment sequence. I remember still being slightly horizontal when the reserve parachute was fully inflated and flying. Of course, I was very happy to now be under a good reserve canopy which flew just fine but In comparison to my main parachute, the reserve chute flew more like a truck than an airplane but it was controllable and with effort, I was able to find and follow my now separated gear.
BACK IN THE SADDLE AGAIN
The main parachute assembly was now a ground bound wad of laundry. The reserve bag and bridle hung below the pilot chute and were flying just slightly below and in front of me. I looked at my altimeter and I was just below twelve thousand feet. The main was falling fast and was a now a few hundred feet below me. I was able to fly to, and keep up with the reserve pilot chute. Yes I could have caught the pilot chute, but the risk is that the freebag and reserve pilot chute assembly could ensnare my lines, and choke the reserve parachute. Remember; there is no plan "C". So there I was missing and unknown, flying two miles from where anyone would expect me to be, flying circles around my descending equipment.
NO WHERE TO LAND
At four thousand feet, I watched as the main parachute hit the ground. I looked around and I realized that there was no safe place to land, below, only vineyard stakes that stretched for more than a mile in all directions. Forced to abandon my very expensive equipment, I headed northeast to the nearest landing area I could find. To squeeze as much distance as I could, I tucked my legs up and pulled my steering toggles down to extend my glide. I made it as far as a freeway clover leaf with enough altitude left to fly a proper landing pattern; downwind to the east, a short base and final. On final, I tested the breaks by pumping both steering toggles together. I determined that I will be coming in fast and hard...oooh this might hurt. Back into full flight, I pulled briefly on the front risers to speed the parachute because more speed means more air for the breaks to work with to soften the landing. The small stuff got large and then contact. The ground was very rough and not worth a busted ankle so I was content to just skid in on my butt. Yeah it hurt a little, but I stood up, and found that everything still works. I survived this skydive my first parachute malfunction in nearly nine hundred skydives! I managed a hitch hike back to the airport and returned to search for my lost equipment. I found the main right away and spent three hours searching for the free bag assembly. I found it the next morning after another two hour search.
EPILOGUE
My personal take on this malfunction was that it was no big deal. Aside from being my first, I was way overdue. Because of my time in the sport there was nothing about the event as it was happening that was unfamiliar. I remember looking up and thinking, "Oh, I've seen this before just not in person." The moral is that when involved in anything requiring man made technology, failure to understand and respect that technology may result in dire consequence. Panic forces luck to prevail over skilled action and luck can be very cruel.
I love skydiving because it is my way to interact with the physical world. Skydiving is physics in action. It gives me focus and centers my mind in ways similar to meditation. It connects me to a community of concentrated diversity.
Text and images are copyright 2006 Carl J. Gallagher. Printing, copying and/or distributing this copyrighted material is prohibited without the written permission of the author; Carl J. Gallagher. Orangesky10@hotmail.com
