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Jul 9, 2004
08.07.2004
'Twas a grey morning when we checked out of our Wellington hostel, hopped onto the shuttle bys that took us to the Interislander ferry terminal. Checked in our luggage, changed our boarding passes, and waited for about 45min before the boarding call was announced. Boarding the ferry itself took damn long, but the two absolutely cute jap babes in front of us were worth the wait. The journey to Picton took 3 hrs, during which we got to see fantastic scenery.
We arrived in Picton at around 12.30pm, and we had to wait a long time before our baggage finally appeared. We nearly missed our coach to the next destination because of the screw up. After boarding the coach, it was another 2hr and a half ride to Nelson, NZ's sunniest place. When we arrived in Nelson, we lost our way trying to find the hostel. It was located on some out of the way street, 15min walk through the town centre, no easy task with our heavy bags weighing down on us. The hostel was a cosy and well kept establishment, and we booked our sky diving trip just after checking in. Since it was already late in the evening, there wasn't much we could do, so it was another few hours of walking about town for some window shopping and an expensive dinner at yet another chinese restaurant. We just can't get enough of Asian food. It was then back to the hostel for a night of board games and guitar sessions. Darryl didn't managed to charm the local babes, but he did get the attention of a couple of old french men, who played the guitar better than him. So much for his 'xian-ing' skills.
09.07.2004
Woke up late this morning, since skydiving was at 12pm. Didnt feel like doing much, the day's activity is more than enough for me. Went down to find Darryl pitting his lousy English against a couple of New Zealanders in a game of Scrabble. The outcome was expected, he lost terribly, though he did manage to best one of the girls by just a few points.
Waited for an hour for the shuttle bus to show up. We almost gave up in relief when the driver came in and asked us to get on. Damn. To think we nearly got away with it. All the while on our way towards the jump zone, we were breaking out in cold sweat, my heart was doing palpitations and Darryl had his trademark sweaty palms. Reached the hangar at around 1.30pm, watched a video about previous jumpers that nearly took away any remaining courage and almost had me asking for a refund, and finally, we left out stuff at the counter and changed into our jumpsuits. Snapped a couple of pics before we were ushered onto the small bi-engine plane that looked no bigger than a van. I was expecting something like a C-130, something big enough so that you can actually walk to the door before you jump. Instead, the plane was so tiny and cramped, I had to sit on my instructor's laps, much to his enjoyment no doubt; and others had to crawl in to find sitting space. The plane rolled out onto the runway, and we were in the air in a blink of the eye. Climbed slowly to the required altitude, and we admired the beautiful view outside the windows while images of our messy and gross demise ran through our minds again and again. There was a learner jumper in front of us with his two jump masters, and when the plane hit 15000 feet, the door slid open, and his jump masters leaped out without a moment's hesitation. So much for normal behavior. The learner jumper counted to 3 before he jumped though. Next, it was Darryl's turn to die. His instructor shuffled to the door, where they took a couple of snapshots, before they leapt outwards into the cold air. Finally, I was the only one left in the plane. Nervous doesn't begin to describe how I was feeling at that point of time. My instructor slid out towards the door, and I slowly adjusted my body in preparation of the jump. Then it was a quick turn to the camera for some shots, and then without any warning, my instructor pushed us out of the plane. What follwed next will be etched into my memory for as long as I live. I experienced 10s of free fall, during which I spun sideways a couple of times, and kaleidoscopic viwes of the sky, mountains, sea, green farmlands and the plane spun before my eyes. I was ready to puke anytime, when we finally straightened out. I couldn't believe I was actually doing this. The ground was rushing towards me at like 1000km/hr, and there was nothing I could do to stop myself from falling. I remember screaming, but I don't recall hearing anything. It could be my blocked ears or my empty mind. Then, my instructor tapped me on my shoulder, and that was the cue for me to spread my arms wide, as if to embrace my coming doom. We had hit terminal velocity, and somehow the adrenalin rush of the initial drop had worn out abit. Suddenly, I heard a rush of air, and I experienced a second of absolute silence as I was floating in mid air, before the open parachute jerked us up into a slow, tranquil descent down to earth. I managed to get out my digital camera tucked safely in my jumpsuit, and began snapping away at the breath-taking scenery. It took us another 4min before we hit the ground, I tucked my legs up and my instructor halted our landing with more skill than anyone I've seen in NDP. Darryl was already on the ground, getting out of his harness. Too bad he survived that. I was hoping to get his credit card. I got out of my gear, shook hands with my instructor, took more photos with the team, and we finally got our asses out of there. What an experience. I can't believe I'm still alive typing this now. To anyone in need of an adrenalin fix and a pants-browning adventure, skydiving is a must. I recommend it strongly. Now at least I know the position to assume if I should have urges to leap off the Westin Stamford in the future.
After arriving back in Nelson, we took a short break, before heading out to the Centre of NZ walk. The centre of NZ is a lookout point on the summit of a hill, located just at the outskirts of Nelson. If you were to pick up NZ by that point, the whole landmass would spin freely. The walk started out leisurely, and ended in a frantic brisk run up the hill that felt more like a mountain to me the more I ran and the summit never seemed any nearer. It took us 20min to hit the summit, where we witnessed the setting of the sun, an awe inspiring spectacle against an ethereal backdrop of pink and orange horizons and the bright yellow lights of the town. Then, it was another 20min journey down the hill in deepening dusk, and we headed to the town centre for a filling dinner at a local cafe. Had a cute babe serving us, and her equally cute little sister sweeping the floor at imaginary dirt. Now here I am, writing about my triumph over personal limits and death once again. Up next, ice climbing at Fox Glacier. Damn I think we are getting addicted to thrills. Hope this doesn't kill us before the cold does.
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