Sky-high and terrified

By BOB IRVINE*

I'm probably the most conservative bloke I know," says skydiver Andy, the sun catching his pink mohawk and the huge greenstone-and-wood doughnuts hanging from his earlobes.

My nervousness about this assignment cranks up a notch. Investigate the non-ski activities around Ruapehu, they said, and yes, there are a tonne of them, from prawn farm to jetboats, bungy to Army museum. However, a middle-ageing desk-jockey is not the ideal candidate to taste the hardcore end of the catalogue - a tandem skydive.

We all might fancy we will rage, rage against the dying of the light, but taking the lightbulb out and stabbing a wet finger in the socket to check if the power is still on, that's another puppy altogether.

Andy is my cameraman for the jump, and like many of the adrenalin junkies at Taupo Tandem, he has the piercings, the wild stare and two-word vocabulary of people who live on the edge. One of those words is "awesome". The other is "um".

And they are so young. My jumpmaster, Hamish Funnell, although reassuringly normal, looks as if he should have a school truancy officer on his tail as he drops a loose parachute, picks up another pack and strolls up for introductions.

They turn them over fast in the tandem-jump capital of the world. This company alone dropped 13,200 customers from the sky last year.

Certainly, it is all happening way too fast today. I have had little time to work up a cold sweat between parking at the airport and being kitted out in overalls and harness.

The parachute packers are working alongside. More teen runaways. "They look so young to have done a PhD in that," I say, hopefully.

Relax, I'm told. The training is extensive, the supervision exhaustive, and half of them are jumpers themselves, which must sharpen their minds as they fold fabric, untangle lines and snake them neatly into a pack.

Yes, but the blaring radio and raucous banter must be distracting. Couldn't they recruit someone more mature, perhaps? Some multitasking matron who can knit a fairisle cardigan while watching Coro?

Hamish, who wouldn't know what a cardigan is, has a hand on my shoulder as we head for the aircraft. Using my journalistic licence, I ask how many jumps he has done.

"Um, 6000-odd."

"Odd?" - You mean there are a few he can't quite remember? It can't be possible to doze off while plummeting through 2000m of freefall.

They have told me about the auto-opener that will deploy our chute at 600m even if Hamish blacks out or a terrified client throws a fist back and clocks the jumpmaster.

We squeeze into the plane with fellow thrillseekers Dean from England and Olivia "I like to do crazy things" from Belgium.

I like to do crazy things, too: just last week I changed one of my Lotto own-numbers.

Ooops, bad example. Thoughts of numbers coming up do not sit well as our Cresco aircraft, a modified topdresser design built in Hamilton and now sold worldwide, hauls us almost vertically into the wild blue yonder - damn you, Kiwi aviation knowhow.

Hamish is showing me the altimeter on his wrist - as if I haven't watched its relentless ticking since we left the sweet tarmac. He cinches us together tight. "Don't worry. You're not going anywhere without me."

But it's where I'm going with him that I'm worried about. On cue, the door slides open and we are looking at clouds suspended in 3600m of nothing.

I can't say my life flashed before me. A pink mohawk flashed before me instead, as Andy climbed out and hung on to the fuselage.

Hamish and I shuffle to the doorway, I assume the crossed-arms, head-back position, and we topple like a boulder towards the hard earth below.

The 45 seconds of freefall is a blur, to be honest. The wind was howling and adrenalin coursing as we hit 200 km/h. Andy's footage shows me smiling as he sailed in to shake hands and give the thumbs up that is standard currency in these parts. I wonder what the hand gesture is for ... "Listen, about those packers ... "

Hamish answers by popping the chute. We seem to be yanked back up as Andy rockets down.

The deafening windrush ceases, Hamish says we have a good canopy - bless those clever kids - and asks if I am okay.

Surprisingly, I am, if a little nauseous. We float above the Central Plateau, snow-capped volcanoes to the south and the lake sparkling between my feet, a blue puddle frosted green in the shallows.

Hamish hands me the controls and we do a few gentle turns, graduating to a steep spin. I am in control. I am not going to die.

Then, far too soon, he retakes the lines and indicates our landing spot, a gravel patch beside the hangar. Extend your legs, he says. We go in on our bums.

My euphoria evaporates. Speed, gravel, soft flesh ... I prepare to kiss a useful part of my anatomy goodbye.

Hamish lines us up and flares his big bag of nylon so that my only kiss is a gentle touchdown. (Bright lad. Must put in a good word with the truancy service.)

To whoops and hollers and thumbs ups, we are surrounded by ground crew, with Andy grabbing some last shots of a grinning idiot.

"How was it," someone yells.

"Um ... awesome."

What it costs:

Tandem jumps from 3600m with Taupo Tandem start from $199. To capture the experience on tape and boast forever costs an extra $149. Ph: (07) 377 0428

Where to stay:


Powderhorn Chateau, Ohakune

Soak in the 15m hotpool, the honey-glow of wood soothing your eyes and a meal with fine wine still waltzing on your tastebuds. Buzz for a nightcap. Heaven. Rooms start at $185. Ph: 06 385 8888.

Grand Chateau, Whakapapa

Leather wingback chairs round an open fire; more chandeliers than you can shake a feather-duster at. The classy dame is poised for a serious facelift of 40 new rooms, a conservatory restaurant and a lap pool. From $125. Ph: 07 892 3809.

Caboose, Taupo

An African train parked beside the lake. In the country's only themed hotel, each room is styled like a carriage. Animal prints abound, figurine monkeys play on the curtain rails, drums throb over the muzak and ostrich is on the restaurant menu. From $99. Ph: 07 376 0116.

* Bob Irvine was a guest of Ruapehunz.com

www.taupotandemskydiving.com