Complete and Creative

What It’s Like to Go Skydiving (1/2)

When you’re in Hawaii, skydiving may not be on top of your list of things to do, but we did it. And I’d do it again too. If only it weren’t so expensive (yet totally worth it).

Originally, I was going to title this article “How to Skydive,” but what was I thinking? I don’t really know how to skydive; I’ve just done it before. So, this personal account of my needle-ly little adventure is meant to give you an idea of whether or not you would be too scared to go skydiving.

Not exactly a soft landing.

First off, you will be scared. (I had done some things prior to skydiving that some people would consider scary: rappelling down a waterfall, ziplining over a thousand feet above a thick forest, climbing Mt. Fuji, and walking into a massive bathtub with a bunch of naked Japanese men, to name a few; and I was petrified right when I was about to leap out of the plane.)

The question is whether or not you will be too scared to do it when you get to location. Chances are, you’re not going to do it alone. When you decide to go skydiving, you will most likely have decided in a group, everyone egging each other on. You probably won’t realize how scared you are at the moment you (or your friends) call to make the reservations, using the coupons that you managed to scrape by.

It might be a long ride to the skydiving location, especially if you’re in an urban area, and you will feel the first fingers of fear creeping their way onto your shoulder when the driver hands you a contract to sign that basically says you can’t sue the skydiving company if you die (while skydiving). When you arrive and realize how high the sky is (wonder why you never noticed before), you might reconsider.

One of my friends did. She’s never going to live that one down (not that I look down on people who are self-proclaimed “chicken-sh*ts”—I swear that’s the word she used for herself—but I’m just a big fan of big thrills).

After you put on the harness, shake hands with your tandem instructor (if it’s your first time, a tandem instructor will be attached to you on the jump), and get on the plane, you’re almost there. If you’re still not scared, congratulations, you’re just about as fearless (and foolish) as yours truly.

There are many great skydiving spots in the world. The one my friends and I went to is on Oahu, maybe an hour outside Honolulu. I don’t recommend going in the spring. It might rain. Don’t worry, though. Nothing short of a lightning storm would stop the plane from taking off. They already drove you all the way over there; they’re going to make some money off you.

We went up when it was sprinkling. The raindrops added to the fun. The instructors claimed that skydiving is safer than getting on a bus or in a car: “You should have to sign one of these [the contract that says you can’t sue in the event of your death] every time you get in a car.”

Among the six pairs onboard, my instructor and I were the first to jump. I had seen a video of skydiving during the van ride to site and another one while waiting for our turn.

I had been thinking about skydiving since about two years ago when a friend and I discussed about a group skydiving trip (it ended up that she wasn’t one of the people I went with). I had seen many pretty crazy videos of skydiving on TV, on YouTube, and on Google.

But nothing could’ve prepared me for the paralysis that struck me first in my legs, traveling up to the pit of my stomach, coursing through my chest, and ending in my throat. I have no problems admitting it, I was scared witless, my heart threatening to hammer its way through my muscle, sinew, and skin. To this day, I wonder if I would’ve been just as frightened had I not been the first to go.

to be continued…