AJ Hackett opened the world's highest sky jump, a plunge off the 233m outer rim of the Macau Tower, in 2006. You, too, can jump off the Macau Tower - if, that is, you fancy plunging towards tarmac at a hundred kilometers an hour.
A hybrid of bungee jump and skydiving, the sky jump is a controlled aerial journey involving no rebound or hanging upside down, which ends with a gentle landing at the base of the tower. The system is regulated by a cable brake and the fall takes 14 seconds. The inaugural jump was completed by Mr. Hackett, from New Zealand, on 17th December 2006. His career as a sky-jump installation tester began on that day and thankfully can continue, due to his having got his sums right.
Dare-devils are clad in specially tailored suits and connected to three cables, so ensuring absolute safety. At approximately 10 metres above the ground, the cable drum switches down-gear to allow for a soft landing. Unlike a bungee jump, Sky Jump is a controlled aerial journey, so you won't bounce back and you won't end up upside down. There is also no chance of the cable wrapping itself around your neck, as has happened to at least one bungee jumper.
I had a great experience at Macau's Great Tower and would like to share it with you. When my Dad asked me what I wanted to do on his day off in Macau, I said I wanted to see the sights, one of which is the Macao Tower. I didn't know about the jump, so you can imagine my surprise when I looked up to see someone plunging earthwards from the top. "Wow? Dad! That's amazing. I want to have a go" I said, tugging at his shirt, as I realized what was happening.
"I thought you would," he said as he fished for his wallet. A little later, as an attendant helped me into a harness and tightened the straps, I watched the orange jumpsuits walk around the outside deck as if they were training for a moon-walk. A Chinese man got suited up before me and I watched him enter the crew pit, then be guided outside to where the jump gate is located. A crew member grabbed the "Big Man" (a long, thick set of cables wrapped together in material) and hooked it to a loop on the man's back. After the checklist he guided the man to the gate. He told the jumper that at 50 feet he would stop his fall to take a photo and asked that the jumper look back up at him. The man nodded in agreement, looking as though he didn't trust himself to speak for fear of emitting an un-macho squeak. The attendant opened the door and led the man to the edge. He didn't hesitate and was gone in seconds. I doubted whether I would be so brave.
I felt adrenaline entering my heart as I took a deep breath, trying to control the mounting fear of knowing it was my turn. I stepped outside. Out on the deck, the crew member said "Don't worry, Losie, it's safe", pronouncing my name in the usual Asian way. Its used to find it sooooo annoying that Asian's can't pronounce my name "Rosie", but I changed my attitude when our Filipina nanny pointed out that I couldn't pronounce her name properly either. He yelled back the checklist and asked me, "Are you ready?" But he wasn't really after an answer and so didn't give me time to open my mouth and say:
"NO, Definitely not, I've changed my mind, don't bother about a refund, I want to go down the slow way. I mean, I can't feel any wings sprouting out of my shoulders, so I can't possibly fly, right, so this is lunacy. I might be a young British female, but DO I LOOK LIKE A B***** BIRD ?
He opened the gate and told me to put my hands on the top bar of the railing as the gate swung open in front of me. I did, but realized I really had changed my mind and was not going to jump - no way, José. "Look over there, Losie, look at Hong Kong" the crew member said, pointing at where my sister had been born. "You'll be fine. Trust me" he assured me. "No. This does not feel right. I do not want to do this," I said, standing at the edge with the gate wide open.
The crew member attempted to reassure me, closing the gate and talking some calm back into me. I didn't hear him - the only thought filling my mind, heightened by the blood throbbing almost audibly in my temples, was that jumping off the tower was suicidal. Life suddenly seemed even more precious than previously, I was far too young and thought myself much too beautiful to die. Besides, I'd never had any children, never been rock-climbing in Krabi, never seen a sunset from Annapurna base camp, only seen Boyzone in concert nineteen times.
This felt very different from jumping out of an airplane in Australia. That had seemed only slightly daft, as the airoplane was perfectly serviceable and I had no particularly pressing appointments on the ground. The crew member continued to try to reassure me "Come on Losie, you don't want to come this far and turn back", he said.
Before I could give voice to my objections I heard the sound of cheering and realized that everyone on the top floor had gathered behind us and was cheering me on.
"Please don't do that," I said, waving feebly at them while smiling wanly. More afraid of the embarrassment of turning back than of the dangers of proceeding, I turned round, faced the open expanse and leaned forward. The cable stopped after 50 feet for the attendant to take my photo. "Look at me," he yelled from above as I hung suspended below. "I can't," I yelled back, "My head doesn't turn that far. It's impossible, my neck's not long enough. Who can do that, anyway? I mean, how many giraffes do you get jumping off this thing?" The cable was released and I started a pleasurable descent, slowing down about 30 feet from the bottom and landing softly on my feet, right on target. Dad's eyes were the first things I saw as I hit the landing pad. He was laughing a somewhat nervous laugh, presumably relieved it was all over. I suddenly realized how much he loves me, that he was willing to put up with watching me do something that must have scared him witless. Our driver Andrew greeted me at the exit. "You crazy lady. Your Dad say you no like be high, why you jump?" he asked. "Because I wanted to beat the fear" I said. Today, the spectators on the top floor had given me the courage to jump by shaming me into banishing the fear. Andrew asked Dad why he didn't jump too. "I have no desire to do things like that," he replied. "I'm old enough not to need to bother with proving things." What is brave? To jump or not to jump. Which is braver? She who jumps or he who jumps not? AJ Hackett once chided reporters. "You must jump before reporting," he said. So, now, after having completed the same feat, I feel I have earned the right to ask, "If you are young, do you have what it takes? If not, is the only reason that you wouldn't do it that you feel you don't need to bother?"
This article was first published in Adrenaline ezine
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