March 30, 1994

To: All readers of this publication
From: George W. Galloway, president, Precision Aerodynamics, Inc.

Dear Readers,

For several months you have been reading first-hand accounts from different jumpers, relating their life-saving experiences with their Raven reserves. This month I would like to share one of my own experiences which happened a couple of years ago, because it demonstrates something we all learned in our respective first jump courses... little incidents (when occurring separately) may be inconvenient, but when added together they can compound to spell disaster.

The jump was a piece of cake. Quick and easy 4 way with no heavy discipline imposed. It was a beautiful day and we were among friends. It was one of those skydives which reminds you why we all keep doing this stuff. In fact, the jump was going so well, we just kept doing it way past what should have been breakoff (1) , but after all, it was a beautiful day and we were among friends. There was still a little time to grab a quick kiss-pass (2) and still get in the saddle by 1800 ft. (3) Well, maybe 1600 ft, but what's a couple of hundred feet when it's a beautiful day and you're among friends.

Breakoff, quick turn, just enough track to clear my back, fire... Whammo!!

It took me a couple of seconds to figure it out. I knew something was terribly wrong, but it didn't make sense. The rings were neatly in place but the entire right riser group was gone! I was probably the first person to ever experience a broken riser!

I was gyrating wildly, and I knew I was kinda low (well,not exactly how low without an altimeter (4) ), but I also knew from experience to get my hand on my reserve ripcord handle before the cutaway, because after the cutaway, the reserve ripcord might not be exactly where you expect it to be. Trust me on this!

The remaining three ring riser was very heavily loaded, and I was being slung around like a ragdoll, hanging from the left side, with my reserve ripcord in my face. The cutaway cable probably hadn't been out of the housing since I got the rig (5), and I found it impossible to cut away with only one hand. ("Half a canopy" makes you go horzontal with "max G's.") It's a wild ride! I had to abandon my reserve ripcord in order to use both hands to get away from this mess! Watching the ripcord "slingshot" toward my waist as I cut away, I quickly relocated it and fired open the reserve container.

Now I could relax a little (6). There's not much more that can go wrong (7). My reserve will now open and I can land. But wait! Where's my reserve pilotchute? No matter how I move, I can't get it to launch (8). (I thought I was low a while ago! Now I'm probably whistling through 600 ft.) I reached up and batted the pilotchute into the airflow.

My reserve opened quickly, cleanly, and on heading. This incredible string of misfortune was about over. I landed safely, but it took me a couple of days to put it all together.

After 20 years in this sport I realized I had been taking alot for granted. (But after all, it was a beautiful day and I was among friends.)

George W. Galloway
My Own Story