Sky Diver's Special Report - Examiner reporter writes about his IRHH sky dive.


Bucks Examiner reporter Luke Cross, vet Cathy Wickenden and doctor Lynne Dyson all took part in a sponsored sky dive on Sunday. We could not resist asking Luke to write about his experiences and Cathy and Lynne kindly sent us the pictures.

Luke wrote:

I WOKE at 6.30am on Sunday to alarm bells going off in my head.

It was a fine, clear day - perfect for a game of football, a Remembrance Service or a stroll through the park. I, however, had chosen to jump out of a plane.

I arrived at RAF Weston on the Green, near Bicester, at 8.30am and mosied on into the clubhouse, where I met two other people jumping for the Iain Rennie Hospice at Home, the Flying Vet, Cathy Wickenden and the Flying Doctor, Lynne Dyson, from Hemel Hempstead.
We headed to the hanger for a briefing session - what position to be in when you leave the aircraft, a tip not to grab your instructor's arms when he needs to pull the chord and a warning to keep legs out of the way when landing so they don't get broken.

I was then introduced to the man who would be behind me all the way Ralph who had done more than 1,000 of these jumps - some people had thrown up on him, others had passed out on him - but no one had died.

After another short wait, I was given black leather gloves and a soft helmet - I was looking and feeling sharp. We swaggered past the spectator's area in true "Top Gun" fashion towards the camouflaged aircraft, clambered in and up we went.

At a few thousand feet we dropped off a couple of more experienced jumpers. I'm not really sure what happened to them. It was only then that I truly realised what I was about to do - and I started to feel a little queasy. There was nothing to feel nervous about really, these were professionals and I did not have to do anything but hang there, but the butterflies were flapping like crazy.

The next few minutes dragged on until we reached about 12,000 feet when the door slid open.

Down went my goggles and out went my Iain Rennie colleagues without a second thought - it was my turn.
Ralph and I slid along the bench and shuffled to the door. I then had to let myself hang off my instructor, pushing my legs back between his and arching my back and neck. Then we were out the door and through the clouds, free-falling at 120 mph, my mouth being pushed to the back of my head as I struggled to catch a breath, even crashing through hailstones at one point.

Ralph started simulating the breast stroke and was tapping me on the shoulder telling me to join in - but I felt like I was drowning.

Then suddenly it stopped and we weren't moving - it felt like we were just hanging in mid-air.
Ralph was telling me all about himself for this newspaper article, but I wasn't really listening.

The view of Oxfordshire was unreal - you see a similar thing through an airplane window but to be out there, surrounded by nothing but space was out of this world.

It was a perfect landing - smoothly onto the grass right in front of my family at the spectator's area.

My instructor was my new best friend at that point - I have never felt as close to another man, and hopefully never will.

Will I do it again? Maybe it's a once in a lifetime experience for me, but for the moment, I'm still flying high.

15th November 2006