3 - 2 - 1 Jump!

When it came to being taught English at Leeds Grammar School it was a case of the good, the bad and the ugly. The good came in the form of Neville Stevens who taught me so much and for who I have undying respect. The bad and the ugly came in the corpulent form of Mark Burke, for whom I have undying contempt. With any luck the fat twat is long dead and if anyone knows where he is buried I'd love to know as a dance is long overdue.

Although Burke didn't teach me much English I do recall one thing he said in his lessons - the worst part of being hanged is the waiting (what's that got to do with English language or literature?). I can confirm that it is just the same when it comes to bungee jumping.

In the hours leading up to the possible jump I was very nervous. I rehearsed the scenario in my mind over and over and always it came down to the same thing - me standing on the platform, ready to jump. I couldn't see beyond that. I couldn't imagine throwing myself into the void below.

Queenstown being Queenstown has several bungee options on offer. The one I chose was the jump from the bridge over the Kawarau River. My reasons were:

It was only 44 metres, less than 150 feet. Not too frightening.
It was into water, which is somehow more reassuring than a drop over solid ground.
The river was the same one we had surfed under - the instructor joking that there was a full refund for anyone who could grab a jumper and bungee back up to the bridge with them.
This is where it all began. This was the world's first site for bungee jumping.

We arrived at the site, about 30 minutes out of Queenstown, in the late afternoon. I had done a mental deal with myself - to watch 3 jumpers and then if I felt I could do it to book a jump.

One by one the jumpers leapt off in a variety of dives. No one died. Everyone looked happy.

I went to desk, paid $195 and hopped on the scales.

I had forgotten my swimmers and towel so I stripped down to my shorts and joined the queue on the bridge. There were 3 young American boys before me.

Standing on that bridge, looking down at the river below, all fear and anxiety left me and was replaced by a feeling of deep peace and happiness. I had done the hard part. I had made the decision to jump. There was only one way I was getting off this bridge now.

Knowing that I had overcome a personal demon to reach this point I felt quite emotional, close to tears.

When I was East Africa I saw a lot of yellow billed kite and somehow these came to embody my attitude to the land. I saw myself as the kite. In NZ we have seen many Australasian Harriers. They are big birds but very common, like kestrels in England. That is how I saw myself on that bridge - a harrier.

Slowly my turn came. I asked for a head and shoulders dunking and watched very carefully as the bungee guy bound my legs together and attached the bungee cord.

Then I was shuffling along the platform, out, over the river. I never looked down and I wilfully forced myself to let go of the support and stand there ready to leap.

'Smile for the camera', said the bungee guy. I smiled.

'Wave to the crowd,' said the bungee guy. To my left, about 40 feet away was a viewing platform. It was full of the sort of people that go to Formula One races. They wanted spectacle but sectretly they wanted blood and gore too. To be able to go home and say - ' I was there when that guy was killed on the bungee. I've never seen so much blood.'

I waved at the blood thirsty buggers.

'On one,' said bungee guy. '3 - 2 - 1...' His hand touched the small of my back very lightly and I dived into space.

I am the harrier. I am free. I am flying.

It was a perfect swan dive. Arms outstretched, fingers together like feathers, legs straight.

Down, down, down.

Then the bungee began to gently arrest my fall and I just had time top bring my arms together as the river filled my vision. I went in - arms, head and shoulders, just as requested.

I popped back out again. Then fell again, not quite to the river. And so on until I dangled inert, upside down above the river.

Two guys in boat came to get me and elation flooded out of me. I did it! I'd always said that I would never do a bungee jump, but I did.

Back at the top I wanted to go again but Pete had a jet boat trip booked and needed to be away. There was just time to grab my photos and T shirt.

As Pete sped back towards Queenstown I had a look at the superb pictures the company had taken. My favourite was one taken from above the platform (I'll publish it when I get home). It shows me with arms thrown wide and flying - well, maybe falling with style.

Live long and prosper.