A Different Kind of Formation

It takes solid engineering to design a blueprint for a world skydiving record. But romance and adventure are involved as well. When Roger Nelson of Skydive Chicago—located at its own Skydive Chicago Airport (8N2) in Ottawa, Illinois, southwest of Chicago—was building the 300-person world record attempt during August, he surrounded himself with the best jump pilots, drop zone owners, skydivers, and ground crew in America. Each of them was a person who loves the sky.

Skydive Chicago's plan for breaking the world record was simple. Position 12 aircraft in formation at 21,000 feet above the ground. Have 300 skydivers jump out of the airplanes. Then, they fly their bodies and dock onto each other to form a pattern of concentric circles as big as a football field. Last, at predetermined altitudes, they let go of each other, separate, deploy their canopies, and land. They have 70 seconds to create the formation while they're falling to earth at 120 mph.

It sounds scary. Yet, this effort wasn't about fear. It was about discipline, concentration, and teamwork. "We have been planning this 300-way world record attempt for over 20 years," said Norge Roi, base captain for the attempt. "Roger Nelson has set big-way records six times: a 50-way, 60-way, 120-way, 144-way, and a 246-way. We keep elaborating on what we learn every time we do it."

Twenty-four attempts were scheduled, to allow for weather delays and mechanical failures. More jumps could not be scheduled feasibly because many participants could take only a week off of work.

Much of the formation flying was discussed in a classroom set aside as the pilots' briefing room. The pilots ate breakfast and lunch separate from the hundreds of skydivers and ground crew. Briefings and debriefings continued throughout the day outside on a picnic table near the aircraft parking area as the pilots evaluated their collective skill in maintaining the formation's integrity.

Herman Reinhold, an 18-year jump pilot with 11,000 hours logged, served as the lead pilot for the airplane formation. He explained some of the challenges of flying 300 skydivers to altitude. "Changes are always being made to make the aircraft and jumpers more efficient. High altitude poses additional problems with oxygen, oxygen masks, running out of oxygen, and hypoxia."

It isn't easy getting four different types of aircraft—de Havilland Twin Otters, Casa 212-200s, a Shorts Skyvan, and a Douglas DC–3—into a tight, precise formation at 21,000 feet. In fact, Skydive Chicago and the FAA's Chicago Air Route Traffic Control Center negotiated a letter of agreement that, at specific times, cleared a cube of airspace from 15,000 to 21,000 feet above the airport for the jumps. Several "warmup" dives were conducted from 17,500 feet msl and below.

The aircraft organizer, Flip Colmer, an airline captain and retired Naval aviator from Chelsea, Michigan, was also one of the 300 world-class skydivers. He was responsible for filing the IFR flight plan for each flight of the record attempt that took the jump planes into Class A airspace. Because of the slow DC–3, it took approximately 55 to 60 minutes for the airplanes to climb from the airport to jump altitude. They departed VFR and climbed in two groups—one group of four and the second group of eight aircraft. Then they formed up at Streator, Illinois, and flew the jump run north, avoiding the Bradford Arrival (V10) into Chicago.

Each flight offered an opportunity for the pilots to exercise extraordinary skill in "basic flying." Climb rate, for example, is something that is drilled into pilots early in their training. It took on extraordinary significance when the pilots were trying to match the climb rates of four different types of aircraft.

Jeff Brest of Ottawa was one of the DC–3 pilots. "Four different types of aircraft flying at different speeds and [climb] rates takes lots of planning. After being a skydiver in the 1998 246-way world record, it gives me a different look at things, being a pilot in this one. Most skydivers don't understand the energy put forth to fly formation."

The Otters climb at 90 kt, Casas and the Skyvan at 110, and the DC–3 at 105. But each of them must maintain the same speed, 110 kt, during the drop in order to hold their position.

"With 12 large, gas-guzzling aircraft, things have to be timed so we can get the formation to Flight Level 210 efficiently," observed Chad Gilmore of Pahokee, Florida. "The pilots need to know their aircraft's abilities to avoid being left out of the formation."

"Gas guzzling" wasn't an exaggeration. More than 33,800 gallons of fuel were consumed while flying the attempts.

Another student pilot basic is center of gravity. But when 22 to 25 skydivers exit a Casa almost simultaneously, the CG shift doesn't affect only that airplane, it affects every plane behind it. Mark Lamberson, an Otter pilot from Schaumberg, Illinois, expressed concerns about it during a debriefing. In that particular flight, the Casas seemed to be about 6 kt slower than usual. When the jumpers exited the rear ramps, the noses of the Casas pitched up, and they bled off a little more airspeed. Within seconds, the Otters to their rear overtook them and had to quickly overfly them to avoid flying into them. The pilots' flying skills prevented a mishap. Their analytical skills and planning avoided a repeat of the incident.

The experience of the pilots that Roger Nelson recruited for the formation was up to the task. Their cumulative total time added up to nearly 120,000 hours. But even with all that experience, basics couldn't be ignored. Wake turbulence was another "basic" the formation pilots dealt with. "Timing is important. Safety. Holding the correct position. But there is a lot of wake turbulence to contend with, which is not so much of a factor in smaller formations," remarked Nikolai Starrett of Eloy, Arizona.

The various types of aircraft placed different demands on the pilots, and cockpit resource management was utilized. The Casas, for example, require two pilots. The pilot flew, following and tucking into the formation, and the copilot watched the gauges and took care of communication. Vigilance in collision avoidance was constant because of the proximity of the aircraft.

In addition to the responsibilities of formation flying, there was the endeavor's objective: Drop 300 skydivers so that they can link up in the world's largest skydiving formation. That requires that 300 skydivers be properly cued so they can exit 12 different aircraft simultaneously. So the plane captain, responsible for the skydivers on each aircraft, had to be included as crew in the CRM definition.

After each aircraft was precisely positioned in the formation, Nelson, in the lead airplane, started the countdown cues for the pilots to pass on to the plane captains. Nelson read "five minutes" onto the discrete frequency. The pilots hand-signaled the plane captains, who passed the cue along to the plane full of skydivers. "Two minutes." "Door." "Floaters out." "One minute." "Exit."

When the skydivers surged out of the airplanes, a veritable waterfall of humanity came at the windscreens of following planes. Physics would suggest that the jumpers weren't coming through the props. But it sure looked like they might.

What was it like actually being in the formation? The DC–3, the Casas, and the Skyvan depart before the Otters. In one of my flights in an Otter, we flowed into the sky, gently swaying in unison with the other four Otters as though commanded by a single pilot. I could see the airplanes around us on steps of altitude, as if an escalator were smoothly pulling us upward. The skydivers in our airplane were trained to conserve their energy and oxygen. They sat quietly, pleasantly awaiting their cues. It was very peaceful.

Nevertheless, the pilot in command, John Schulz of Eloy, Arizona, provided a reality check. "To fly in something like this, you have to be smart and on the ball." He tightened the emergency bail-out parachute system cushion straps around his legs. "You don't want to die."

In the air, from aircraft to aircraft, the 12 airplanes flying in formation looked like a scene out of a World War II movie. From the ground, the airplanes looked like a flock of migrating geese with a big goose trailing lazily on the right. The skydivers looked like a cloud of sparkling gnats.

However, the FAA was waiting. It was time for a ramp check of the aircraft. Curt Lindauer, an airworthiness inspector from the DuPage Flight Standards District Office, conducted a walkaround inspection, like a preflight. He examined the nuts and bolts on moving parts. He noted a screw missing from a spinner; it was immediately replaced. After he was confident that all 12 aircraft were airworthy, he strolled to the area where the skydivers waited for boarding and randomly checked reserve packing cards on rigs. Reserve parachutes must be repacked every 120 days by an FAA-certificated parachute rigger. The rigger must sign a card, similar to an aircraft logbook entry, that's stored in the rig. Because Skydive Chicago examines every skydiver's reserve packing card before permitting them to jump, Lindauer found no out-of-date reserve pack jobs.

Air traffic controllers from Chicago Center at Aurora, Illinois, also came to see what was happening on "the other end" of the 300-way world record attempt. While they were there, the controllers also made tandem skydives. Dave Cottingham summarized Chicago Center's cooperative spirit with the attempt. "It isn't as difficult as some would believe. Roger Nelson and these guys are going for a world record. We're just moving the other airplanes out of their way."

Controller Steve Meitz described what he sees on his radar screen when the aircraft are in formation. "The airplanes are visible. But when the 300 skydivers jump out, they look like a large cloud of digital primaries [small crosses marking primary radar targets that don't have transponders]."

Despite the four or five formation flights each day, according to Jeanie Rush, the president of Skydive Chicago Inc. and the office manager who oversees the day-to-day operations of the drop zone, it was still business as usual. "We averaged 75 tandem jumps each day, and many of those tandem students continued into our accelerated free-fall program." She added, "We also flew about 30 loads of ‘fun jumpers' each day."

Jim West, owner of Skydive Green County in Xenia, Ohio, and Paul Fayard, owner of Fayard Enterprises in Louisburg, North Carolina, have been flying jumpers for more than 30 years. They are seasoned experts at flying formations for "big ways" and brought several airplanes from their fleets for the attempt.

Yet, the sweetheart of the formation was Lady Luck, the DC–3. Richard "Doc" Linden of Dallas owns the airplane. He called the formation "a unique opportunity to display skills to oneself that are challenged nowhere else in the world—and getting to play with my own airplane!"

Despite the efforts of the pilots, the world record attempts were suspended after the twenty-second jump ended tragically when two skydivers collided while under canopy. One was killed and at press time the other remained in critical condition. The effort had nearly succeeded. "We were knocking at the door," Roi explained. "We knew we were well over 250 [skydivers in a formation]. We were getting some big formations going; everybody believed it would happen."

The last two scheduled attempts were canceled. The afternoon of the accident, Nelson assembled his huge team of exceptional ground crew, pilots, and skydivers to formally announce the tragedy and pray for the victims. "It took courage," he said, "for each of you to bravely come here and risk failure."

John Lewis, a retired lawyer turned commercial pilot and flight school owner from Houghton, Michigan, was one of the skydivers who mustered up the courage to take that risk. Lewis has been jumping with Nelson for eight years and has several world records to his credit. "Roger has many years of experience doing this, and he's set many records. He spent two years planning this attempt. Nevertheless, it's challenging for 300 people to have a reasonably good skydive at the same time. It doesn't have to be perfect. It doesn't have to be flawless. It just has to be a reasonably good performance. Even though we didn't break the record, I'm glad I came. The satisfaction comes from accepting the challenge itself—not solely from success."

Sometimes pilots embrace the cliché, "Why jump out of a perfectly good airplane? Why skydive?" Lewis has jumped out of perfectly good airplanes more than 2,000 times. He laughed, "If you want to swim, you have to jump out of the boat. If you want to fly, you have to jump out of the plane."

Links to additional information about skydiving may be found on AOPA Online ( www.aopa.org/pilot/links/links0011.shtml). Marcelaine Wininger is an instrument-rated commercial pilot, flight instructor, aviation safety counselor, and a skydiver. She is a freelance writer and a high school English teacher.