Dark (New) on Nostr: One of My Favourite Stunt Skydives – The “Mr. Bill” Dark’s Writing Exercise ...
One of My Favourite Stunt Skydives – The “Mr. Bill”
Dark’s Writing Exercise Series
This series is aimed at capturing memories of some of the more interesting things I’ve experienced over the years while I still have memory of them, to pass them along to my daughter after I’m gone. And to do what I love doing most…..writing. Enjoy!
Installment #2 – One of My Favourite Stunt Skydives – The “Mr. Bill”
Back in the late 1990’s and early 2000’s, before I had the bulk of my gear stolen, started a family and focused more on the responsibilities of maintaining full time work, keeping bills paid and a roof over our heads, I was fortunate to be part of a vibrant skydive scene in British Columbia Canada’s lower mainland. The Abbottsford Parachute Centre, now Skydive Vancouver, was a seven day a week operation between early April and Labour Day each year, and served as a home base for me and most of my friends who jumped regularly. Weekends during the rest of the year were usually fairly busy as well, up until the DZ owners annual retreat to operate a jump school at Dillingham Airfield in Hawaii for the cold Canadian winter months.
In addition to the regular action at Skydive Vancouver, my then girlfriend and some of my skydiving bros would also frequent other drop zones in the Lower Mainland and the Pacific northwest, including Pitt Meadows BC, Chilliwack BC, and Skydive Kapowsin in Washington state. We would also always be looking for fixed objects to parachute from, including the Lion’s Gate Bridge, Granville St. Bridge, Burrard St. Bridge, ore conveyor bridges at mines, and Dry Gulch Bridge on Hwy 97 to the interior of the province.
After getting a couple hundred jumps under my belt, and always looking to push the sensation envelope, a couple of my closest skydiving friends and I started trying variations on a couple of different novelty jumps that were outside of the regulations, a little risky and always super memorable. Things like bandit jumps into non-registered drop zones in public places, high altitude cross country parachute flights, wing suit flights, night jumps, water jumps, chartered helicopter and hot air balloon jumps, and of course the odd BASE jump. But I’d have to say, my favourite novelty skydives were “Mr. Bill’s”. Some of my older readers may remember the Saturday Night Live skits featuring Mr. Bill, a small clay figurine with an annoyingly high pitched voice that would suffer comical mishaps and usually get smooshed or destroyed in some way. Before meeting his fate, the small character would almost always say something like “Oh no, oh no, Mr. Bill, Mr. Bill!” right before meeting his end. The original skydivers who invented and passed along this novelty skydive to the community I was in must have been Saturday Night Live fans.
The basic mechanics of a Mr. Bill, once the aircraft is at exit altitude and on “jump run” over the drop zone, is to have one skydiver sit in the doorway with his feet dangling out into the air. This jumper is usually equipped with a larger square footage, more docile parachute that will ultimately absorb the opening shock and loaded flight while carrying two jumpers’ weight. Then, jumper #2 gets in the doorway with his back to the sky, straddles jumper #1 with his feet back in the aircraft with his hands in a death grip on jumper #1’s front harness lift webs. Then once all is set and the exit point is reached, both jumpers make eye contact and rock out, in, out on a 1,2,3 count and exit the aircraft. Immediately, jumper two wraps his legs around jumper 1’s legs and jumper 1 IMMEDIATELY tosses his pilot chute out into the airflow to pull his main canopy out of the main container before the fall speed and shock of the opening become such that jumper 2 cannot possibly hang on. After any more than about 2 seconds of freefall, the opening shock is such that jumper #2 would have to be able to hold three times their weight worth of force.
If all goes well, both jumpers will find themselves face to face under a single parachute, with jumper #2’s parachute still stowed and ready for his own freefall later in the flight. The jumper controlling the opened canopy can fly them both around while they can both keep an eye on the drop zone, other jumpers and a good secondary exit point/exit altitude. The flight under a single canopy is fun and usually full of laughs. Both jumpers experiencing the same flight after successfully pulling off a sketchy exit just hits different. Especially if you’re both high. Which was often the case.
At about 5,000 feet, jumper number 2 exclaims the trademark “Oh no, oh no! Mr. Bill, Mr. Bill!” and falls away in total silence. In the absence of an aircraft or much forward airspeed, it is almost like exiting from a fixed object. No relative wind to “grab” with one’s limbs to establish a stable freefall position right away, and only the sound of the air rushing from zero to terminal velocity over the span of about 12 seconds.
One of the craziest things is the perception of the second jumper’s altitude in relation to yours if you are in the jumper #1 slot. The second jumper becomes invisibly small and so far away so quickly that you would swear after ten seconds that they have had a total malfunction and are now in a steaming heap on the ground. But then, after an agonizingly long 12 seconds or so, you see their parachute open below you a couple of thousand feet. Once both safely under canopy, both jumpers set up for their respective landings and an inevitable high five and some laughs and debriefing the jump on the ground. Both positions on the jump are really fun, but the Mr. Bill slot is the most fun.
There are a lot of reasons why doing a jump like this is really frowned on and why they end up being so rare and special. There are so many things that can go wrong, with the worst of them endangering the aircraft, the pilot and both jumpers’ lives. If attempted at all, this jump has to be done with super tight and properly trimmed gear by experienced jumpers. And even then it is sketchy. First off, when maneuvering into position for exit, if either jumpers’ pilot chute sneaks out of it’s pouch and gets out into the airflow while both jumpers are still in contact with the aircraft, the result can be and usually is catastrophic. If someone’s main canopy gets deployed prematurely, it can tear them literally through the side of the aircraft and leave them dangling from the horizontal stabilizer unconscious. Or it’ll just rip the tail of the aircraft off and leave the jumper unconscious, in near-freefall beneath a shredded parachute with traumatic injuries. It has happened to others in skydiving’s storied history.
Secondly, if there is any delay AT ALL in the time it takes for jumper #1 to deploy their parachute within a second or two, jumper #2 will inevitably be unable to withstand the opening shock and be forcefully torn away from his jump partner. Broken fingers and dislocated shoulders can easily be the result. In the process of being ripped off, jumper #2 can also snag jumper #1’s reserve parachute handle or his main cutaway, or both. It would be a real shit sandwich.
Of the three Mr. Bill’s that I have attempted, only 2 of them worked out. One with me as parachute pilot and one with me as jumper. The best one was at the POPS boogie in Chilliwack BC in the fall of 1999, a 4-way relative work and accuracy competition tailored to skydivers over 40, with recreational jumps for skydivers of all ages (including young bucks like me at the time) mixed in over the course of 8 days, only a couple of miles away from where I was living at the time. It was a magical week, with larger aircraft brought in to augment the usual fleet, and a lot of experienced jumpers to learn from and jump with. I got to do my first ten-way formation that week and earned my Canadian ten-way crest, did some great head-down free-flying with jumpers from the States, some “tight” 4-way relative work jumps, and of course a great Mr. Bill with my buddy Steve.
We were about midway through the week, and it was a beautiful sunny September day in the Fraser Valley. We all had a couple of jumps in already that day, and Steve, my friend that had about 1500 more jumps than I had at the time, asked me if I wanted to do a Mr. Bill. What’s more, he asked me if I wanted to do it high. We took a spin out around to the next range road, smoked a huge gagger and came back to the DZ to get on the manifest sheet for an upcoming load in the Cessna 206. It was a familiar aircraft that we had been out of many times. We had jumped together many times in the past, I was light, strong and fit, and he had a big accuracy parachute packed that would make a perfect platform for the stunt.
We hosed ourselves down with bathroom deodorizer spray to mask the strong smell of pot smoke, and prayed we wouldn’t get busted off the load on account of our bloodshot eyes and any lingering pot smell. We were dumbasses. We had no business jumping under the influence, let alone trying a risky stunt on the same jump. But we were vibing with the scene of the event and the people, happy to be skydiving midweek while the rest of the world worked, and we were looking to do something memorable and fun.
The 20-minute ride to altitude in clear blue skies afforded us a view of the entire Fraser Valley out to the ocean, Mt. Baker WA in the distance, and the peak of nearby Mt. Cheam which we had to practically fly directly over top of on the ride to 12,500 feet. We had loaded into the aircraft last so that the other jumpers would be well on their way to the ground by the time our shenanigans ensued. We got into position, rocked through the count, and did a nice clean exit with an almost immediate deployment of Steve’s main canopy. The opening shock was still considerable, but I managed to hang on. Before we knew it, there we were. Both riding under Steve’s parachute, taking in the views and laughing about the fact that we had pulled off the exit. At about 5000 feet and directly over the DZ, I peeled away and Steve could hear my voice trailing off yelling “Mr. Bill……….!” in my best impersonation of the SNL character as I fell away. I got a good solid 12 second freefall, a nice opening and a great landing. Steve said he thought for sure I had “gone in” because I was totally invisible by the time he saw my parachute open far beneath him. In fact, he kind of freaked out, because the Cessna ended up right below us on final for landing while I was in freefall, and he thought I was going to hit it.
One Mr. Bill jump attempt that I did with my other buddy Eric didn’t work out too well. We were at the home DZ on a usual Saturday and tried to recreate the same jump out of the same aircraft. When we rolled out of the 206, Eric’s pilot chute lanyard wrapped around my lower leg as it buffeted about in the airflow. By the time I was able to kick it free so that it could drag his main parachute off his back, we had been in freefall for an agonizingly long 5-6 seconds and both of our eyes were the size of saucers as we realized what was about to happen. The opening shock hit, tearing my hands from his lift webs and my legs from around his. I was sent directly straight down into freefall by the force of the opening. When we got to the ground, Eric had 4 fingernail marks down each bare leg and I was dripping blood from a couple of torn cuticles. It could have been so much worse.
My recommendations if you ever enter the sport of skydiving or sport parachuting: have fun, jump within your limits, push them when it’s the right day with the right people, and follow the rules of the air. You can enjoy the sport anywhere in the world, do it for years, and meet a lot of really cool people across a whole cross section of society. Avoid low hook turns close to the ground, maintain awareness of wind direction and other jumpers, don’t forget your pre-boarding and pre-exit gear checks from a friend, and get a good canopy out above 1800 feet. You’ll be golden.
Dark’s Writing Exercise Series
This series is aimed at capturing memories of some of the more interesting things I’ve experienced over the years while I still have memory of them, to pass them along to my daughter after I’m gone. And to do what I love doing most…..writing. Enjoy!
Installment #2 – One of My Favourite Stunt Skydives – The “Mr. Bill”
Back in the late 1990’s and early 2000’s, before I had the bulk of my gear stolen, started a family and focused more on the responsibilities of maintaining full time work, keeping bills paid and a roof over our heads, I was fortunate to be part of a vibrant skydive scene in British Columbia Canada’s lower mainland. The Abbottsford Parachute Centre, now Skydive Vancouver, was a seven day a week operation between early April and Labour Day each year, and served as a home base for me and most of my friends who jumped regularly. Weekends during the rest of the year were usually fairly busy as well, up until the DZ owners annual retreat to operate a jump school at Dillingham Airfield in Hawaii for the cold Canadian winter months.
In addition to the regular action at Skydive Vancouver, my then girlfriend and some of my skydiving bros would also frequent other drop zones in the Lower Mainland and the Pacific northwest, including Pitt Meadows BC, Chilliwack BC, and Skydive Kapowsin in Washington state. We would also always be looking for fixed objects to parachute from, including the Lion’s Gate Bridge, Granville St. Bridge, Burrard St. Bridge, ore conveyor bridges at mines, and Dry Gulch Bridge on Hwy 97 to the interior of the province.
After getting a couple hundred jumps under my belt, and always looking to push the sensation envelope, a couple of my closest skydiving friends and I started trying variations on a couple of different novelty jumps that were outside of the regulations, a little risky and always super memorable. Things like bandit jumps into non-registered drop zones in public places, high altitude cross country parachute flights, wing suit flights, night jumps, water jumps, chartered helicopter and hot air balloon jumps, and of course the odd BASE jump. But I’d have to say, my favourite novelty skydives were “Mr. Bill’s”. Some of my older readers may remember the Saturday Night Live skits featuring Mr. Bill, a small clay figurine with an annoyingly high pitched voice that would suffer comical mishaps and usually get smooshed or destroyed in some way. Before meeting his fate, the small character would almost always say something like “Oh no, oh no, Mr. Bill, Mr. Bill!” right before meeting his end. The original skydivers who invented and passed along this novelty skydive to the community I was in must have been Saturday Night Live fans.
The basic mechanics of a Mr. Bill, once the aircraft is at exit altitude and on “jump run” over the drop zone, is to have one skydiver sit in the doorway with his feet dangling out into the air. This jumper is usually equipped with a larger square footage, more docile parachute that will ultimately absorb the opening shock and loaded flight while carrying two jumpers’ weight. Then, jumper #2 gets in the doorway with his back to the sky, straddles jumper #1 with his feet back in the aircraft with his hands in a death grip on jumper #1’s front harness lift webs. Then once all is set and the exit point is reached, both jumpers make eye contact and rock out, in, out on a 1,2,3 count and exit the aircraft. Immediately, jumper two wraps his legs around jumper 1’s legs and jumper 1 IMMEDIATELY tosses his pilot chute out into the airflow to pull his main canopy out of the main container before the fall speed and shock of the opening become such that jumper 2 cannot possibly hang on. After any more than about 2 seconds of freefall, the opening shock is such that jumper #2 would have to be able to hold three times their weight worth of force.
If all goes well, both jumpers will find themselves face to face under a single parachute, with jumper #2’s parachute still stowed and ready for his own freefall later in the flight. The jumper controlling the opened canopy can fly them both around while they can both keep an eye on the drop zone, other jumpers and a good secondary exit point/exit altitude. The flight under a single canopy is fun and usually full of laughs. Both jumpers experiencing the same flight after successfully pulling off a sketchy exit just hits different. Especially if you’re both high. Which was often the case.
At about 5,000 feet, jumper number 2 exclaims the trademark “Oh no, oh no! Mr. Bill, Mr. Bill!” and falls away in total silence. In the absence of an aircraft or much forward airspeed, it is almost like exiting from a fixed object. No relative wind to “grab” with one’s limbs to establish a stable freefall position right away, and only the sound of the air rushing from zero to terminal velocity over the span of about 12 seconds.
One of the craziest things is the perception of the second jumper’s altitude in relation to yours if you are in the jumper #1 slot. The second jumper becomes invisibly small and so far away so quickly that you would swear after ten seconds that they have had a total malfunction and are now in a steaming heap on the ground. But then, after an agonizingly long 12 seconds or so, you see their parachute open below you a couple of thousand feet. Once both safely under canopy, both jumpers set up for their respective landings and an inevitable high five and some laughs and debriefing the jump on the ground. Both positions on the jump are really fun, but the Mr. Bill slot is the most fun.
There are a lot of reasons why doing a jump like this is really frowned on and why they end up being so rare and special. There are so many things that can go wrong, with the worst of them endangering the aircraft, the pilot and both jumpers’ lives. If attempted at all, this jump has to be done with super tight and properly trimmed gear by experienced jumpers. And even then it is sketchy. First off, when maneuvering into position for exit, if either jumpers’ pilot chute sneaks out of it’s pouch and gets out into the airflow while both jumpers are still in contact with the aircraft, the result can be and usually is catastrophic. If someone’s main canopy gets deployed prematurely, it can tear them literally through the side of the aircraft and leave them dangling from the horizontal stabilizer unconscious. Or it’ll just rip the tail of the aircraft off and leave the jumper unconscious, in near-freefall beneath a shredded parachute with traumatic injuries. It has happened to others in skydiving’s storied history.
Secondly, if there is any delay AT ALL in the time it takes for jumper #1 to deploy their parachute within a second or two, jumper #2 will inevitably be unable to withstand the opening shock and be forcefully torn away from his jump partner. Broken fingers and dislocated shoulders can easily be the result. In the process of being ripped off, jumper #2 can also snag jumper #1’s reserve parachute handle or his main cutaway, or both. It would be a real shit sandwich.
Of the three Mr. Bill’s that I have attempted, only 2 of them worked out. One with me as parachute pilot and one with me as jumper. The best one was at the POPS boogie in Chilliwack BC in the fall of 1999, a 4-way relative work and accuracy competition tailored to skydivers over 40, with recreational jumps for skydivers of all ages (including young bucks like me at the time) mixed in over the course of 8 days, only a couple of miles away from where I was living at the time. It was a magical week, with larger aircraft brought in to augment the usual fleet, and a lot of experienced jumpers to learn from and jump with. I got to do my first ten-way formation that week and earned my Canadian ten-way crest, did some great head-down free-flying with jumpers from the States, some “tight” 4-way relative work jumps, and of course a great Mr. Bill with my buddy Steve.
We were about midway through the week, and it was a beautiful sunny September day in the Fraser Valley. We all had a couple of jumps in already that day, and Steve, my friend that had about 1500 more jumps than I had at the time, asked me if I wanted to do a Mr. Bill. What’s more, he asked me if I wanted to do it high. We took a spin out around to the next range road, smoked a huge gagger and came back to the DZ to get on the manifest sheet for an upcoming load in the Cessna 206. It was a familiar aircraft that we had been out of many times. We had jumped together many times in the past, I was light, strong and fit, and he had a big accuracy parachute packed that would make a perfect platform for the stunt.
We hosed ourselves down with bathroom deodorizer spray to mask the strong smell of pot smoke, and prayed we wouldn’t get busted off the load on account of our bloodshot eyes and any lingering pot smell. We were dumbasses. We had no business jumping under the influence, let alone trying a risky stunt on the same jump. But we were vibing with the scene of the event and the people, happy to be skydiving midweek while the rest of the world worked, and we were looking to do something memorable and fun.
The 20-minute ride to altitude in clear blue skies afforded us a view of the entire Fraser Valley out to the ocean, Mt. Baker WA in the distance, and the peak of nearby Mt. Cheam which we had to practically fly directly over top of on the ride to 12,500 feet. We had loaded into the aircraft last so that the other jumpers would be well on their way to the ground by the time our shenanigans ensued. We got into position, rocked through the count, and did a nice clean exit with an almost immediate deployment of Steve’s main canopy. The opening shock was still considerable, but I managed to hang on. Before we knew it, there we were. Both riding under Steve’s parachute, taking in the views and laughing about the fact that we had pulled off the exit. At about 5000 feet and directly over the DZ, I peeled away and Steve could hear my voice trailing off yelling “Mr. Bill……….!” in my best impersonation of the SNL character as I fell away. I got a good solid 12 second freefall, a nice opening and a great landing. Steve said he thought for sure I had “gone in” because I was totally invisible by the time he saw my parachute open far beneath him. In fact, he kind of freaked out, because the Cessna ended up right below us on final for landing while I was in freefall, and he thought I was going to hit it.
One Mr. Bill jump attempt that I did with my other buddy Eric didn’t work out too well. We were at the home DZ on a usual Saturday and tried to recreate the same jump out of the same aircraft. When we rolled out of the 206, Eric’s pilot chute lanyard wrapped around my lower leg as it buffeted about in the airflow. By the time I was able to kick it free so that it could drag his main parachute off his back, we had been in freefall for an agonizingly long 5-6 seconds and both of our eyes were the size of saucers as we realized what was about to happen. The opening shock hit, tearing my hands from his lift webs and my legs from around his. I was sent directly straight down into freefall by the force of the opening. When we got to the ground, Eric had 4 fingernail marks down each bare leg and I was dripping blood from a couple of torn cuticles. It could have been so much worse.
My recommendations if you ever enter the sport of skydiving or sport parachuting: have fun, jump within your limits, push them when it’s the right day with the right people, and follow the rules of the air. You can enjoy the sport anywhere in the world, do it for years, and meet a lot of really cool people across a whole cross section of society. Avoid low hook turns close to the ground, maintain awareness of wind direction and other jumpers, don’t forget your pre-boarding and pre-exit gear checks from a friend, and get a good canopy out above 1800 feet. You’ll be golden.