All Things Flying

There is only 5mm of plastic between me and certain death. Then why am I so calm? I should be panicking. The others seem very tense and keep asking silly questions to keep their minds busy, to push the fear away. They look pale, almost green even, as I should too but I don't. I look closely at the door, it is an assembly of strips of transparent plastic, bolted together with rubber joints so you can roll it up. Clearly a handyman's work, not by a company with safety procedures and strict rules to adhere to. It makes me wonder how many safety systems it has, as I expect would be required for airplanes flying at 6000 feet (2000m).
I look at the back of the airplane and can see the cables leading from the levers in the cockpit to the rudder and flaps. Again not a reassuring thought that I can touch the cables, pull them even
and thus steer the little aircraft. I look through the oval windows and enjoy the stunning view. From this side - Tableview - you have an amazing view of Table Mountain, Signal Hill and Devil's Peak, with the city cradled between them and sprowling out. I see the new stadium and robben island, all under a clear blue sky, not a cloud in sight.
My partner gives me instructions and urges me to come closer. I have to manoever around which is very difficult in the confined space of the one propellor aircraft. We shuffle on the floor, as there are no seats, just one open space. Oks are signalled back and forth. Someone rolls up the door and air comes thundering in. The first pair goes, then it is me. I can feel a change in my
body and oddly enough I think about how my pancreas secretes adrenaline, heightens my senses. I think of how it dilates my pupils, sharpens my hearing, gives me more strength if I should need it. In the mean time I do as instructed, sit in the doorway, feet over the edge, legs folded under the belly of the plane. Head backwards, tilted sideways so I wouldn't knock out my tandem instructor.
For a brief moment we sit there, and I see the absurdity of the idea. I'm looking down two kilometers, to fields, dunes, ocean, cars, houses. I am strapped to a man I met one hour ago,
about to jump out of an aircraft. One minute of free fall, speed increasing every second up to around 300kms/hr, then pull out a piece of cloth tied to our backs with ropes so it would slow - not stop- us falling and allow a certain amount of control over the descend.
I decide not to scream. There is a tumble head first, and we fall. I hear myself screaming, of course. My mouth is dry within a second, from all the air flowing through it. Imagine stretching
your lips around a hair drier and switching it on, same effect. As we are falling, arms and legs open, looking around, a strange thing happened. I felt in control, at ease, really enjoying
the view. I would have wanted to stay up there, I felt perfectly safe. Reality was different of course.
There was a big tug and our body positions changed upright. The noise of wind diminished and we circled down. After an easy landing, I was back on the ground. I had done my first skydive.

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A couple of weeks ago, a big fair on military equipment was held in Ysterplaat, a military air base 30 minutes drive from Cape Town. Different heads of state, army officials and security companies from all over Africa came to admire the latest in military equipment, ranging from tanks and heavy duty vehicules over ammunition and weapons to armor and soldier's gear.
It was combined with a two day airshow of different types of helicopters and airplanes. My knowledge of aircrafts and military equipment is limited to the type of sound they make. Planes go swoosh, helicopters go dugdugdug and guns pow pow (and variations). I am also capable of distinguishing a helicopter from a plane. By locating the propellor(s) I can fairly confidently say if it is a helicopter - when the propellor is on the roof - or a plane - when it is on the side or front. It became a bit difficult with the jet plane concept where there is no propellor at all, and I almost
confused a tank with a fighter jet.
So with no knowledge of the war toys on display, and frankly no interest in acquiring knowledge on them, I just stuck to ushering ooohs and aaaahs. A perfect spring day, with the sun stinging and a cooling breeze, my friend Thomas and I admired the butch vehicules. There were stunt pilots flying in difficult formations, making loops, and helicopters showing how they pick up and displace jeeps, military men parachuting and abseiling out ouf helicopters. Big fat airplanes showing how manoeverable they are. One such carrier aircraft of the US army needed only 300m or so to stop after touching ground. Truely amazing.

In all, a very enjoyable afternoon. I left with reddened skin and the confirmation that I'm not into mechanical stuff.