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On the morning of May1st 2016 I jumped, or rather slid, out of a plane over Wollongong at 14,000 feet.

It was a tandem jump, meaning that I had an instructor strapped to my back.

 

Striding_confidently_before
Striding Confidently Before Going Up

 

At that height the curvature of the earth is quite evident.  There was an air-show underway at the airport we took off from and we were soon looking down on the planes of the RAAF  Roulette aerobatic display team.  They looked like little model aircraft flying in perfect formation.  

 

1400_feet_above_Wollongong 1400_feet_above_Wollongong

14,000 feet above Wollongong

Rouletts
RAAF  Roulettes - two hands full of toy planes seen from above.

 

My one-time place of work, the Bluescope steelworks, looked a brown smudge and the outer harbour like a puddle in the embrace of the slender arms of its breakwaters, snatched from the Tasman Sea.

We were to be second out but were gazumped.  We settled for third. 

Our feet went out first, legs tucked tucked under the plane and as soon as our knees bent under we lost balance and were effectively pulled out the door by the slipstream.  After tumbling a couple of times, due to me not holding my head back far enough, we stabilised face down and did those thumbs up; high five; things for the instructor's camera.  It was chilly on my face and my ears ache when they are very cold.  They were soon very cold.  The wind speed is around 200 km/h.  That's terminal velocity face down so the chill factor is quite high.

The freefall seems longer than it is.  There is plenty of time to look around and attempt to smile for the camera.   My instructor waited a bit longer to pop-the-chute than the first two out.   We zoomed past the gazumpers and were first down. 

Plummeting towards earth face down at 200 km/h should be terrifying but somehow it's not.  The experience could be better described as captivating. No wonder some wait too long to pop-their-chute.  Objects below: trees; cars; houses; are so tiny and the wind is so powerful that it doesn't seem real somehow.  The rational brain knows that there is a main parachute and a reserve and the subconscious brain simply rejects it as being very high in the same way as one might be cautious at the edge of a cliff.   The only fright I experienced was a second or two of moderate terror at being pulled from a plane by my feet and finding us both tumbling, apparently out of control.  Once stable I experienced no fear at all.  I could liken it to recovering successfully from a high speed skid when driving. A sort of elation swept over me that things were stable again.

It was an amazing experience yet I would just as soon have popped a bit earlier, to my taste the parachute part was not long enough.

To quote from the promotional material: From 14,000 feet, the freefall lasts approximately 65 seconds followed by a parachute ride of 5-7 minutes depending on the number of turns done while in the air.   I will take their word for it.

The parachute ride is extremely slow and comfortable after the freefall.  By that time you are closer to the ground and everything below is more interesting. Like the view out of a plane after take-off.  The instructors do a bit of turning and scooting about.  It's rather nice to be like superman:  'Able to leap tall buildings in a single bound.'

 

Coming in to land Striding_Elated_After
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Coming in to land

 

With the ram-air parachute they use and a 30 knot breeze we were more or less stationary relative to points below into the wind, falling directly towards them, but doing 60 relative to the ground with the wind. The rectangular ram-air parachutes allow amazing precision when setting down, a quantum leap from the old circular ones my father had in his WW2 RAF Hurricane that may well have landed the user in a tree or a lake.

People generally want to do it again. I certainly wouldn't say no but once was adequate to satisfy my curiosity. Bungee Jumping next?

On the promotional sites you will read that it is an amazingly safe sport, compared to say scuba diving, because only one in 150,000 jumps ends in death.  Some say its safer than driving a car.  But there are lies, damn lies, and statistics.  If someone got killed every 150,000 times someone drove off in a car, or travelled 14,000 feet, the road toll would be horrendous.  Nevertheless I'm happy to believe that it's safer than skiing black runs and accidents usually avoid all that unpleasant business of recovering in hospital. 

Skydiving is a great experience.  I can recommend it.

 

 

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Travel

Spain and Portugal

 

 

Spain is in the news.

Spain has now become the fourth Eurozone country, after Greece, Ireland and Portugal, to get bailout funds in the growing crisis gripping the Euro.

Unemployment is high and services are being cut to reduce debt and bring budgets into balance.  Some economists doubt this is possible within the context of a single currency shared with Germany and France. There have been violent but futile street demonstrations.

Read more: Spain and Portugal

Fiction, Recollections & News

The McKie Family

 

 

 

 

Introduction

 

 

This is the story of the McKie family down a path through the gardens of the past that led to where I'm standing.  Other paths converged and merged as the McKies met and wed and bred.  Where possible I've glimpsed backwards up those paths as far as records would allow. 

The setting is Newcastle upon Tyne in northeast England and my path winds through a time when the gardens there flowered with exotic blooms and their seeds and nectar changed the entire world.  This was the blossoming of the late industrial and early scientific revolution and it flowered most brilliantly in Newcastle.

I've been to trace a couple of lines of ancestry back six generations to around the turn of the 19th century. Six generations ago, around the turn of the century, lived sixty-four individuals who each contributed a little less 1.6% of their genome to me, half of them on my mother's side and half on my father's.  Yet I can't name half a dozen of them.  But I do know one was called McKie.  So, this is about his descendants; and the path they took; and some things a few of them contributed to Newcastle's fortunes; and who they met on the way.

In six generations, unless there is duplication due to copulating cousins, we all have 126 ancestors.  Over half of mine remain obscure to me but I know the majority had one thing in common, they lived in or around Newcastle upon Tyne.  Thus, they contributed to the prosperity, fertility and skill of that blossoming town during the century and a half when the garden there was at its most fecund. So, it's also a tale of one city.

My mother's family is the subject of a separate article on this website. 

 

Read more: The McKie Family

Opinions and Philosophy

In Defence of Secrecy

 

 

Julian Assange is in the news again. 

I have commented on his theories and his worries before.

I know no more than you do about his worries; except to say that in his shoes I would be worried too.  

But I take issue with his unqualified crusade to reveal the World’s secrets.  I disagree that secrets are always a bad thing.

Read more: In Defence of Secrecy

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