It’s very similar to the look that the people at Skydive St Andrews had when I arrived there.
I didn’t let the fact that all the people smiled like Charles Manson worry me. I was worried enough already at the thought of leaping from an aircraft that wasn’t in flames.
About ten minutes after I arrived I was asked to join a group of three women for my training on what to do when the time came to take the leap of faith. Five minutes later our instructor told us to get a drink, or something to eat, and wait for our names to be called.

At this point I began to question my sanity. I was expecting at least three hours of training covering everything, from what to do if the aircraft should suffer terminal engine failure, to statistics on numbers of people killed or seriously injured while jumping from the airfield I was at, but none were forthcoming.
When I asked my instructor for this vital information he just flashed his demonic smile and said “relax”. RELAX!!! RELAX!!! My mind screamed at me, “how the fuck am I supposed to relax when I'm surrounded by lunatics that are happy to jump from an aircraft and risk my life?” I thought.

I waited in a state of abject terror for the next eight hours chain smoking and trying not to look like I was shitting myself. I don't think it worked. everyone that passed me asked if I was feeling “ok?” And offered me cigarettes to settle my nerves.

Eight of the longest hours in my life.
Eight hours so petrified I must have more powerful jaws than a great white shark with all the grinding of my teeth that I did.
Eight hours of watching people disappear into a small aircraft only to jump from it and survive.
This, I thought, should allay my fears. But not a chance. I sat thinking “there’s a chance that I could be the one in a million that has a chute failure” the more I pondered it, the more it seemed likely that I was to be that one in a million. After all I've never had much luck in life so why wouldn't the only one-in-a-million shot I get in life be a good one?

Some people hit it big on the lottery, some hit it big on a pools win, some people hit it big by inventing a gadget that sells millions, I managed to convince myself that I was about to hit it big all over a small part of Scotland. It seemed like an eternity.
As I was lighting my 40th cigarette of the day a voice crackled over the tannoy system “ssssssshhclick “Ross Douglas to manifest” clicksssssshh”.

I smiled to my family and walked like a condemned man towards the manifest office, “enjoy it mate” said a guy who had passed a little time with me having a chat earlier.
“You’re all insane” I said, as I trudged onwards.
I walked into the office and reported to my instructor. “Ok Ross” he said, “let’s get you ready for some fun”
“You’re just loving this aint you, you swine” I said, bitterly.
“There’s nothing to worry about mate” said another of the instructors, smiling inanely “Freddy has over two thousand jumps. And he’s only ever pulled the wrong handle to release the chute and detached his tandem fourteen times”.
“I hate you all,” I said “you know that don't you, I just want to check before this nutcase gets me killed. I'd hate to have to waste praying time ’cos I'm screaming that I hate you when I'm plunging towards terra firma at high speed” they all laughed.
Not really the reaction I was hoping for. I was hoping for a sudden seriousness to overcome them and for them to get it together and make sure I was taken care of.

But, fuck no, they just laughed and kept flashing those serial killer smiles and psycho eyed stares at me. Freddy handed me a yellow jump suit and told me to put it on.
“Do I have to have a yellow one?” I asked, “I don't want to die looking like a giant fucking banana”. “You’ve got a good sense of humour Ross” he remarked as he walked away to get his suit off a wall peg.
“You think I'm kidding!?” I said, as he pulled on the suit and the harness. He merely laughed and smiled that familiar look of a madman.

I got into the jump suit and walked outside.
Freddy strapped me into my rig, tightened my harness and told me to relax while the plane got fuelled up and ready to go.
I walked over to my family and said what I thought were to be my last words to them, “what the hell possessed me to do this?” I asked. “You’re doing it for a charity” said my mum. “You’re doing it for a good cause” said my sister. “Because you’re off your head” said my dad. So I shook my Dads hand, kissed my mum and my nieces and ruffled the hair of my nephew and said, “you can have all my records and CD’s wee man, don't let uncle Stuart get them. He’d just look at them in disgust”.
“See you later Uncle Ross” he said.
“I hope that it’s sooner rather than later wee man” I said and walked over to my instructor.

The instructor got into the plane first then I got in and sat on his lap as I had been instructed to at the briefing earlier on. Two solo jumpers squeezed themselves into the plane and the pilot signalled that he was ready to take off. The engine shuddered into life and the pilot pushed forward on the throttle. The noise drowned out all other noise as we began to move.

As we bounced our way down the strip of grass that was used as a runway the noise increased, then dropped down to a level more like a car on a very fast idle, as we left the ground.
“OK ROSS” Freddy shouted into my ear, “I’LL PUT THE ALTIMETER WHERE YOU CAN SEE IT SO YOU KNOW HOW HIGH WE ARE AT ANY GIVEN TIME”. I looked to my left and saw his hand resting on the sill of the window and watched as the altimeter slowly climbed upwards.
One thousand feet.

Two thousand feet.

Three thousand feet.

Just as the altimeter reached three thousand five hundred feet the pilot made a wavy gesture with his hand. “WHAT IS IT DEREK? IS THERE A PROBLEM WITH THE PLANE?” Freddy yelled at the pilot, trying to make himself heard above the engine noise.
“DEREK!” He shouted again as the pilot made no recognition of the fact he was being yelled at.
I kicked the back of the pilot’s seat viciously and he turned sharply around and gave me a wanker sign. I gave him the finger with one hand and pointed to Freddy with the other.

“IS THERE A PROBLEM DEREK?” Freddy bellowed.
The pilot made a few signals with his hand and then turned around to face forward.
“OK ROSS. WERE GOING TO HAVE TO LAND, THERE'S NOTHING TO BE WORRIED ABOUT WE’RE NOT ABOUT TO CRASH” Freddy shouted, into my ear.
“WHY WOULD I WORRY?” I shouted to him, “WE HAVE A PARACHUTE STRAPPED TO US. IT’S THE PILOT THAT HAS THE PROBLEM, HE HASN’T GOT ONE”.
“IT DOESN’T MATTER ROSS, OUR CHUTE WOULDN’T OPEN IN TIME ANYWAY”.
“Please let me out of this alive” I thought as we began our decent. We landed safely and Freddy told me that the pilot had called off the jump because the cloud was at the place we needed to be when we jumped.

I walked towards my family when the aircraft touched down they started to say thing like, “it’s ok that you decided not to jump Ross”, “at least you tried” and other such things that families say to one another when defeat is admitted.
“I didn't call it off,” I said “the pilot did. I wanted to jump”
Their faces changed from looks of shame to looks of wonderment in the briefest of seconds and their mood brightened a little.
Five minutes later I was called over to the plane again by Freddy “Ok Ross, This time for sure mate” he said. I hoped he was right, it was getting later and I was getting nervous about being late for work. Even though if things went wrong then the last place I was likely to be was at work.
I watched the altimeter climb again.
One thousand.

Two thousand.

Three thousand.

Four thousand.

Five thousand.

I looked out of the window and saw the earth from just over a mile up. What seemed like the whole earth was stretched out below, like a patchwork blanket made from many kinds of green and gold cloth it sloped gently to the sea.

Six thousand.

Seven thousand.

Eight thousand.

as we were Passing through the cloud cover we emerged in the part of the world where the sheer beauty of a cloud touches you. They looked so solid that I started to think I could reach out and touch them. i began to think if i could they would feel exactly like lamb’s wool.

Nine thousand feet.

“OK ROSS IT’S TIME TO GET READY.” Freddy yelled into my ear. He pulled the straps tight on my harness, “ARE YOU READY?” He asked.
“AS READY AS I’LL EVER BE” I yelled back.
Ten thousand feet came, and went.
We levelled off and Freddy yelled at me that we were slightly higher than we should be but that it was ok and not to worry about it.

The pilot made a signal with his hand; one of the two other passengers turned a handle on the door and air screamed into the cabin. They stepped out of the plane onto a running board that was attached to the fuselage, took each other’s hand and jumped. It looked so easy.
The pilot motioned to us that the time had come for us to disembark. We shuffled towards the door and I got my first look straight down. It was a.... Loooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooong way down
I put my feet out of the door, against all the thoughts I had about how stupendously stupid it was, and crossed my arms.

“READY” said Freddy as we rocked forwards.
“SET” he said as we rocked backwards.
“GO!” He said as we rocked forwards and jumped....

We somersaulted about six times and I saw the plane that I had just left come in and out of my field of vision. We dropped at 125mph for a mile, but it seemed like ten. I was yelling all the way, not with fear, but with sheer enjoyment. I could hear Freddy yeehawing as loud as I was.
We passed through the edge of a cloud and the mist of water droplets cooled my face like an angel wiping my brow. As we dropped through the bottom of the cloud I saw the earth rushing towards me. I was still yelling with excitement.
The chute opened and slowed our descent to a little over twenty miles an hour and I started to laugh like I'd never laughed before. The noise from the wind had stopped and I heard Freddy ask “did you enjoy that Ross?”
In between laughing like a loon I managed to say “what a fucking rush man. Can we do some turns? Huh? Can we?” I asked, like I was high on crack.
“Sure Ross. Put your hands above your head and hold onto these loops” said Freddy. I put my hands up and grabbed the two loops that were just above my head thinking that they were for me to hold onto while he did the turns.
“If you pull down on the right one we go right. If you pull down on the left we go left. Have a try.” Said Freddy.

I pulled those loops like an orang-utan in a tree and we looped and swooped like a demented buzzard.
During looping about like a monkey I was getting blood dragged from my head to my feet and back again and I was getting the feeling that you get when you go over a humpbacked bridge and your stomach jumps a little.

Five minutes later we came into land and I was still laughing as we touched down. I walked towards my smiling family and they all asked how it was. I had lost the power of speech. I knew what I was trying to say but all that came out of my mouth was “awwooga boonie wibble wantle (giggling) shaboola whumpeddle (more giggling)”.
My mum handed me a cigarette and I took it with shaking hands and tried to light it. It was only then that I realised why all the people had serial killer eyes and madman’s smiles.

It was the pure adrenalin that was coursing through them. The sense of having looked at death and survived.
I walked over to my instructor and shook him by the hand, “Thanks man, that was the best thing I've ever done in my life. I will be back.” And I meant every word.
On the drive back to Edinburgh I sat in the passenger seat of my dad’s van and giggled like a kid on the loose in a sweetshop with a million dollars in his pocket.
As we drove past my mum in her car my dad said, “she complains when I go that fast in her car when the kids are there”.
“Dad” I said, “your only doing 80, I was doing 125 less than half an hour ago”.
“Aye, that you were son, that you were.” He said, smiling. I looked at him and knew he was proud of me for doing it. And I was proud of myself for doing it.

When i got to my work everyone was asking if I did it.
There was a strange look on all of their faces, almost like I wasn’t the same person that they knew. I wondered what it was, but let the thought pass as I told them I had done it and that I would do it again without a second thought.
As they all shook my hand and said “Well done” I tried to say how great it was but there weren't the words to describe the feeling.
“Do it” I said to them all, and I meant it.

When I got home after work I sat down and rolled a joint, lit it and went to the bathroom to relieve myself.
I looked into the mirror and saw why everyone at my work was looking at me like they didn’t recognise me. I had the same look in my eyes that everyone at the skydive centre had, that mad drunk look, the psycho eyes, the stare that would cut ice and make mountains shake.

The freefall look.

Picture By Phyllis Douglas.

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