MAN
59
Victorian lree-lall chanpion Bob
Cawse comes in lor a near-target landing.
Ile is pulling down on both steering
toggles to stop his torward. ilrioe.
By TOlUlillltLER
NG,
FALLI
NG
FALLI
IIIAT
120MILES
PER
HOUR
Twisfing
throughtheqir,theypossbstons
lo edch ofher, do flips, figure eights
HE jumpmaster
eased his bulk of two
parachutes, high crash helmet and heavily
padded boots through the open space where
the door of the little Cessna had been
taken from its hinges.
More than 12,000 feet below, the airfield
was a tiny rectangle distinguished from nearby paddocks only by the faint aircraft run.
ways. The target cross of two 15-foot lengths
of brilliant yellow was tiny from this height.
As the jumpmaster slid his left foot on to
the tiny step on the plane's undercarriage, the
two other parachutists behind crowded to the
door.
Even with the plane's motor throttled back
to about 60 miles an hour, the wind plucked
at the first man's overalled arms as he reached
out for the wing strut.
With a flnal glance through his wide-vision
goggles at the other two, he quickly punched
his stopwatch, then kicked his feet and thrust
back with both hands, falling from the plane
in a ,spreadeagledposition.
The second man immediatelv ,tumbled after
him, and a second later the third dived headflrst into space.
The first skydiver was falling perfectly flat,
horizontal to the earth, with arms and legs
slightly bent in a relaxed position. Accelerating
at roughly 30 feet a second, he knew he would
reach maximum speed-or terminal velocityof about 120 miles an hour in a little more
than 72 seconds.
Number one wanted to fall as slowly as
possible. In his right hand he held a light aluminium baton, to be passed to rthe other two
jumpers as they all hurtled towards the earth.
By varying their body, leg, arm and hands
posi,tions even slightly, these men can dive
faster, move toward or away from each other.
After a few dozen jumps, it's nearly as instinctive as riding a bike.
Number One, after four or five seconds,
knew Number Two should have fallen a little
faster and be closing in. Number One looked
up-and wiggled the baton encouragingly as
he saw his mate in perfect position only feet
away.
Moving the last yard together cautiouslya collision could mean a heavy bump-the
baton was grasped flrmly by Number TWo and
the first part of the pass was over.
(Continued on page 65)
lf surfingisn'tthrillingenough,
car racinga little
- try this{orsize!
dullandskiing
sport
iustanother