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MissBuffDiver

YOUR single most dangerous jump.

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Similar one for me.
Doing a four way at Toogoolawah in Queensland Australia. Two of the guys, with out telling the other two of us, decided if it wasn't together at about five grand, they would dump high and try some canopy rel. Keeping in mind this jump had one highly experianced (with the crw plot), one medium level (me), and two with less then 100 jumps.

Sure enough the exit worked, but lots of vertical and horizontal seperation on the inter. The second point was to be a murphy, and just as I was about to dock on the junior guys leg, no shit inches away, he decides to dump. with me on his left rear moving in, and him looking to his right rear back sliding, as he threwout his pilot chute.

Instinct I guess took over and I placed my hand on his deployment bag, in his now open container and rolled over the other side of him.
So as I fall past him roling onto my right side, he is on my left with his bridile across my chest and up through my arm pit. Luckily it all clears and I watch his opening while still falling on my back.
Ther other two were also close enough for a detailed look at this.

Worst part was nobody, including the senior guy on the load would admit any fault in the root cause of this happening, which was the failure to inform others on the load of their alternate plans.
Watch my video Fat Women
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eRWkEky8GoI

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Wow, can't top that one! However I had a few that I feel lucky to survive.

The one I'm going to tell about happened over Issaquah, WA in the late '60s. I think it was an RW load with two Cessna's from 12500. I remember that the formation was starting to build and I was working my way into a slot when WHAMMO! I saw stars and I think the lights went out for a few seconds. I came to pretty quickly but was a little disoriented, so I just pulled the ripcord.

I was open at about 6000 and just kind of reeling and trying to come to my senses. It was nice to have the extra altitude to sort out what I was going to do to land near the field. I did ok and managed to land in the DZ parking lot and just laid there for a few minutes.

After getting together to rehash what had happened I learned that a good friend was flying camera and didn't realize that he was sliding sideways at a pretty high rate of speed and had slammed into me. He said he was sure glad to see me pull after that.

I was jumping a piggyback and the 2500lb bellyband had been ripped off the rig. I had deep black and blue from my knee to my armpit.

It is sobering to think that nobody used automatic openers back in those days.

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I am not sure how this particular episode will translate into a story, and hopefully it will help that I have a few eye-in-the-sky photos to get my point across. This adventure started out at a nearby crop dusting operation, located in Eastover, North Carolina on April 27th, 1980. A few of the pilots that worked for this company also were occasional jump pilots out at our home drop zone in Raeford, NC, so we were very comfortable with their experience and abilities.

Our main purpose was to get not only plane-to-plane photos, but also to have camera-mounted shots from different angles during craw out and exit. Andy Keech (as some of you may know, one of the best known skydive photographers in the world at the time) was invited down to coordinate these jumps, in hopes that he would get some usable material for the next volume of his “Skies Call” book series. He had visited our drop zone before to take photos of our Lockheed 10-E for his prior edition of “Skies Call 2”, so we already had a relatively good working relationship. To our knowledge, this particular kind of situation (jumpers on all 4 wingtips) had not been documented, or even attempted before. We had previously jumped this aircraft once before, and we decided that it could provide for some dramatic photo opportunities.

In order to prepare the aircraft for these attempts, motor-driven cameras were mounted on the tail, and on the left wingtip (with the help of a mounting bar to get the camera lens away from the edge of the wing, and up on a higher angle of viewing). Our seating arrangements involved emptying and completely steam cleaning out the chemical hopper located just in front of the pilot, so that we would be able to squeeze our 4 contorted bodies in to the tiny space available. Once the actual exit sequence started, the pilot would activate the tail-mounted camera, and once we were all in position, I would switch on the left wing-mounted camera. We made a series of jumps with variations of our positions on the wings, photos can be seen below.

Unfortunately, one of our attempts did not pan out quite as we had expected. The plan was to capture a photo of Phil Rogge (on the upper left wingtip) and myself (on the lower left wingtip) in a dive-type of an exit in the foreground, along with Dave Mangis and Ed Christy with grips and performing a side-by-side back-loop in the background off of the upper-right wingtip. In order to accomplish this, we tried to work out a visual exit command, starting on a hand signal that I was to control. Once we were in position, I was to hang out from underneath of the lower wingtip (so that Dave and Ed could see me) wave my right hand in one downward swoop, and we were all to start a 3 second count sequence (one thousand one, one thousand two, etc……..) This delay was supposed to accomplish 2 things: it was to give Dave and Ed time to stand up off of the wing to be in position to exit in a back-loop, and it was also to give me time to get myself back under the upper left wing, so that I could re-establish a better grip and a position for my part of the exit.

My good buddy Phil (either in his excitement or a total misunderstanding of the count sequence) came off the upper left wing almost immediately after I gave the signal, way before I had a chance to regain a solid grip. Because he left out-of-sequence, and because of the flight characteristics of the crop duster, the left side of the plane rose quickly, causing me to buckle at the base of the wing support with my half-hearted hold on the wing brace. Now normally on most airplanes, this would be no big deal at all; I would have just let go and slide off of the back of the wing. But no, not in this case! My left leg had slipped down to the actual control surface, and my foot was in danger of slipping down in between the control surface (which, as you probably know, causes the plane to turn), and the spray piping system used to distribute the chemicals during crop dusting operations. Can you say possible plane crash? If my leg would have gotten lodged between the wing and the spray pipe in this manner, the plane would have gone into a very unwanted roll, with no way that I know of to correct it. The crop duster, possibly the pilot (he was wearing an emergency rig), and I would have been scattered across the patchwork countryside of eastern North Carolina, and of course I did not want that to happen.

So there I was, kicking my leg frantically in a feeble attempt to keep my foot from the deadly gap between the spray pipe and the control surface of the wing. I also attempted to pull myself a little farther up towards the front of the wing. Finally, I was able to somehow get to my hands and knees, and I leapfrogged like a scared rabbit over the trailing edge of the wing and spray pipe. I was so glad to be in freefall again; I was back home, so to speak. I can’t even remember where I actually landed, but I know that because of the delay in my exit, it took me awhile to get back to the landing strip; I probably had to bum a ride with some farmhand driving down one of the local backroads. Needless to say, once I got back, I had a very animated conversation with Phil and the rest of the group.
Gary David Holbrook on Facebook/YouTube, D-5857, SCS 3657, NSCR 1219, Former S/L Instructor, Former Wizards 4-way RW, Former SE Conference Judge

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MissBuffDiver

Sounds like you could...or would pick up any split!!! GOTCHA :P

Quote

Be careful what you ask for...you just might get it!!!!!


I can think of quite a few but two in particular, I can't really separate. Both in the late 70s. Very close shaves.

1. Doing a 4 way from 12500, suddenly noticed a glider flying right below us at about 5 grand, split into 2 pairs, one pair went down each side of him between the wing trailing edge and tailplane. He didn't even see us.

2. Formation load, 2 x 206s, pilots not experienced at formations, on the climb out the pilot of the chase plane was slow on the power off, and overshot the base plane which was below us by now. As we (5) in the chase plane exited, the base plane swung in underneath us. (I was first out of the chase plane)

According to the base plane pilot, I missed his prop by about 8 feet, the second guy out went down the leading edge of his left wing, the third out went down the trailing edge of the left wing in front of the tail plane, and the last two out went down the right hand side of the base plane.

Needless to say, the dive went to shit!!.

I can remember to this day the bug eyes and open mouth of the base plane pilot looking up at us. He didn't want to fly formation loads again after that, and we didn't want him to either. How everyone missed him was a miracle, if there are such things. Shook us up a bit, spent the rest of the day at the pub.

Ah, the good old days.....such fun.....:D
My computer beat me at chess, It was no match for me at kickboxing....

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We decided to try a 16 way, at night! With people that couldn't complete a 16 way in the daytime. Absolutely freezing cold, we get extra altitude so I'm frozen and hypoxic but I also got the spotting job so I get to have a little wind chill factor to go with it all!
Exit, and of course it funnels. Chemlights all over, everyone looking for something in the middle to chase. Realize that people are leaving and I figure the safest place is on the bottom. Track for a good while and look down as I pull and realize I AM GETTING GROUND RUSH FROM THE RUNWAY NUMBERS! Canopy pops open and I get about 20-30 seconds to go from stowed brakes to flair.
Don't want to get busted for pulling low, so I grab my canopy as quick as I can and run towards the other chemlights landing. Sneak up quiet behind another guy gathering his gear, and say "Man! Did you see that guy that went really low, I wonder who the hell that was!"
That's my story and I'm sticking to it!

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Not a jump per se, but an airplane ride which was the culmination of a weekend of skydiving at Eagle Field, south of Merced in the central valley of California, on June 21, 1981. It was a very heavily loaded Twin Beech and we were heading back to our home field - Yolo DZ - (now Skydance) after a weekend of camping and fun jumping at this private strip. Pre seat and pre seatbelt days....

The young military pilot (Mel) decides to buzz the DZ so we can all say goodbye. At the end of the low pass he pulls up sharply and the entire load of jumpers and camping gear slide aft. Towards the tail. Now, he has a sudden and extreme aft CG condition, and we are all in a world of hurt. As those of us that are now pinned against the rear bulkhead scramble and claw our way back uphill, the airplane runs out of energy and stalls and falls off on the left wing. We enter an incipient spin and Mel somehow, manages to recover and get us flying again at what my log book says...was 25 ft.

We were all in such a state of shock and after the initial "holy shits", not a word was said for the remainder of the flight. (So how do you get a whole load of skydivers to keep quiet... well just try to kill them.)

That weekend I also remember (and logged) a guy smoking past the base, in a no lift dive, and missing us all by about 20 ft. Pre Cypres days.

Fortunately, the Reaper was elsewhere that weekend and the good Angels were flying instead. That's at the top of my "most dangerous jumps" list.

If anyone was there that weekend, I would love to hear your version. The only full name I have in my logbook is Bill Rug. Which I remember as Ruggeveen. (I was the guy that in my youthful arrogance, pitched his tent in the peas and became a target for the early morning load :-)

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Well I'm gonna go back a few years here to 1961. I had gotten word that a skydiving club had recently been formed at my Marine Base at Cherry Point NC. As I had always wanted to skydive I filled out my application & joined. After some ground school and lots of beers we were off to the drop zone. Now this was a rather unusual type of operation in which the guy who brought the most beer got the most jumps that day which were assigned by the Chief Instructor. Neither I nor any other students thought that was unusual as we drank beer during all our other activities, so no harm no foul. We were introduced to our jump plane, a Tri Pacer which was a small cloth covered contraption that the pilot made us wax before he would fly. As we were getting prepared to load we were advised that it was forbidden to take full beers with us in bottles but cans were OK. It was a safety precaution because spectators could be hurt by the empty but heavier bottles which were to thrown out before the jump. We then loaded the airplane, two jumpers per load, again which I assumed was another safety precaution as the plane would not carry three. As we were getting ready for jump run the pilot instructed the person nearest the door, (me) to hook up my static line to the seat belt and get ready to climb out on the left wheel. I did this and while waiting to jump was aware that the loose static line was flowing behind me in a nice horseshoe between my back & the secured end on the seat belt Upon a nod from the pilot I let go, after which the guy behind me was to pull my S/L in unhook & stow it & hook his own after which the exit procedure was repeated.

Shortly thereafter a real & experienced skydiver appeared and said
"away the beer for I am here to square this club away." The old jumpmaster disappeared with all the full beer that had been left over, never to be heard from again.

At the time none of us considered the jumping to be unsafe & were a bit pissed that we couldn't drink beer while jumping any more, but continued on with the program. Only later as I gained more experience did I think of my/our actual peril.

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It was jump number 29. It was a hop n pop because I wanted to work on accuracy. As a new jumper, I listened to the experienced jumpers who really emphasized canopy skills. I was at a .85-.88 WL, depending on the day.

I realized that I totally screwed up, I was way over my target, so I decided that I needed to just land safely and check out the map to try again.

At about 35 feet off of the ground there was a wind shift, and my "little adjustment" to land upwind turned into an almost 100 degree turn... AT 35 FEET. In that moment I knew I had fucked up royally. I needed not to be sideways to the earth, so I corrected a little to get canopy over my head. I flared, PLF'd, and prepared for a hurtin'. I lied still for a brief second to see if I hurt, then stood up to daisy chain my canopy and walk back to the hangar. EVERYONE at the DZ ran at me "WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING?!".... After hardcore, and deserved, "what the fucks and chatting", I realized how lucky I was.

I was lucky because people have gone in like that, as well as broken major bones.

My canopy's size, being a .85 WL, and the fact that it was a docile 7 cell which does not like to maintain a dive, really saved me.
Skydiver Survivor; Battling Breast Cancer one jump at a time. DX June 19th 2014
I have been jumping since October 5th 2013.
https://pinkribbonskydiver.wordpress.com/

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Hi Jerry, Sandy and all!!,
Love this thread!! God Almighty "Dangerous??" Hell, we lived thru 'em all!! how could they have been "Dangerous? Oh well, when yer' lookin' the reaper in the eye at 400 feet I guess that's Dangerous!! But!><<<BSBD,
SCR-2034, SCS-680

III%,
Deli-out

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Sandy. That is a classic story and reminds me of my most dangerous (stupid) jump. Four of us from Antioch were doing a night demo jump into a college football game in Northern California. Gus Evans, Jim Barnhill, Mike Saculla and I. When we took off the winds were "gusting" above 25 knots but we shrugged it off. No guts. No glory. I was jumping a Star and the other 3 had Clouds so we figured we would be ok. Besides, we were promised beer and cheerleaders....We were jumping from a Cessna that did not have the doors or seats removed and on jump run the pilot had to "crab" the plane so we could exit. Jim and Gus went first and were going to open at about 3000. Mike and I went next and pushed against the door to exit and it was a struggle. I got out and the door slammed on Mike's jumpsuit leg. As I was falling I could see him flying away stuck to the plane. Shit! Apparently the pilot managed to kick the door and Mike fell free. Did I mention we had smoke? We fell to 2500 (or lower...) and opened. I was sure sweating a reserve ride because at that time, our reserves were 26' Navy Conicals and in those winds,....well it would have been ugly. The entire descent we were "holding" and we were still being blown backwards towards the stadium. Because I was jumping a Star and weighed more than these guys I started to get some "penetration" and made for the stadium. As I got below the rim of the stadium I was getting some good forward drive. That's when the wind from the open tunnel (the stadium was a "U" shape) hit me. I lost a couple of cells and was pumping like mad at about 100 feet. I managed to get my canopy back just as I burned in. Dang close to the 50 yard line I might add. The cannons went off. The crowd roared. And that was it. No cheerleaders. No co-eds. No further "penetration".....the other three managed to run off and land in the soccer field to the east.
All I remember was hitting, PLF'ing and hoping my legs didn't break. Not a scratch.

Someone got a pic of me burning in which is attached.

I can laugh about it now. The only thing missing was a nude jumper (ahem) on the demo...
Swimdoc

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Probably should be under "stupid jumps I've made."
We had a demo into a bar on a lake in the early 70's Two cessnas. Nobody wanted to jump their good gear in the water. So we decided to use the club student gear. Cheapo's in B 12's. This bunch of geniuses (including one actual rocket scientist and one that worked on the M60 tank) figured we could do without reserves if we got out at around 100 feet. Lots of math involved here!! That way if you even had a streamer it would slow you down (more math) enough to live. So we load up and head to the lake. The whole way we are looking at the other plane just knowing they snuck reserves on board. They were looking at us thinking the same thing. We get to the lake. Its maybe 5 acres in size. At 100 feet and 100 mph, do you know how fast that lake went by? One guy hit the lake. One landed on a dock then fell backwards into the lake and the rest of us dumb asses has to find out way into peoples back yards.
U only make 2 jumps: the first one for some weird reason and the last one that you lived through. The rest are just filler.
scr 316

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OK, now that's really dumb :o:D

Glad you're still here to tell about it

Wendy P.

There is nothing more dangerous than breaking a basic safety rule and getting away with it. It removes fear of the consequences and builds false confidence. (tbrown)

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Probably the *most* dangerous was the low turn that almost left me as permanent furniture of the DZ landing area.
But it has more to do with landings than jumping, plus there really isn't a very interesting aspect to it, beside don't do it.

So I'll go with *that* wingsuit jump.
I couldn't find my PC handle on the plane before exit and I dumbly decided to go anyway, after all it's a PC, they don't have legs, where else would it be. I'll find it when I need it, right?
To be totally honest, I knew it was in there and I wasn't dragging it, I could feel the PC still being in the BOC, just the handle was stuck being the back and the wing, and I was dealing with some depression so it's not like I wanted to die but I also, well, really didn't care that much. It was a very poor decision and, worst, I knew exactly how poor it was.
Wingsuit flights is an uneventful flock, 4 or 5 way, until break-off, my best friend and I end up over each other rather than drifting apart. I take a dive and a hard bank, to at least give some vertical separation, on top of the horizontal one which puts me several hundreds feet lower than my usual at break off.
When I go to initiate my pull sequence, surprise-surprise, I can't find the handle.
I try again. I can't find it again.
I go for it one last time, I knew I had altitude, but I start a spin. Shit.
I decide I was done looking for my main handle, I knew I could stop the spin and decide to give my reserve a fair chance with a stable deployment. I stabilize the spin and go for silver, at what I knew was 1600 ft.
My final alarm goes off as my reserve lines were stretching.
Of course my left wing got stuck over my thick wintersweater and I am flying over an industrial area, with warehouses etc.
I decide to harness steer the reserve into the clear while I try to unzip the arm a couple of times, then eventually decide to use the cutaway system.
I gained full control of the reserve at 800 ft (but at that point I was over an open grassy area).
Got control of the brakes, decided to pull a 90 downwinder because, eh, fuck it. At this point.
Slided the landing, which luckily was the best thing of the whole jump.


Moral of the story? If you know you're in a weird mental state, don't jump.
Or force yourself to be extra precautions even if you don't feel like it is necessary.
Luckily, I am in a much better place, mentally wise now, due to figuring out what was wrong at the time. All is well and nobody got hurt.
I'm standing on the edge
With a vision in my head
My body screams release me
My dreams they must be fed... You're in flight.

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Snowcrash

Well... In my case I hope it was actaully the last one. Tried a Lightning, didn't dare hold the fronts low enough, got no flare out of it, was an idiot, broke my wrist. Yeah, yeah. Shit happens.



I've heard several people say that.
My idea of a fair fight is clubbing baby seals

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>I've heard several people say that.

Remember the guy at Elsinore that flew his canopy into the open shipping container and the parachute slammed the doors shut? And, when you opened the doors to see if he was still alive he said....."that's the stupidest thing I've ever done in my life!" ;) That was classic!!

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