XFM - extreme sports for men, by men

What normal person would throw themselves off a tall building or the edge of a cliff for fun?

Thirty-seven-year-old Edgar Gaiao would, and has done so countless times. This active base jumper, who is known about town for jumping off the Soweto cooling towers for kicks, talks passionately about his extreme hobby.

“What I love about base jumping is that there are no rules and there is no governing body that tells you how things are supposed to be done. You have to take full responsibility for the decisions you make at a jump,” Gaiao says.

He is the first base jumper I’ve met who is willing to be interviewed.
“Contrary to popular belief, those who participate in base are not seeking any attention, and the vast majority of base jumps are done far from prying eyes, or at night,” says Tim (not his real name), my tenuous link to the base-jumping fraternity.

“Base jumping in South Africa is an incredibly small, tight-knit community. Some base activities border on the illegal. You will struggle to crack into the circle,” Tim had warned.

I consider going undercover to get my story, but quickly realise that, aside from not knowing base-jumping jargon, I get nervous riding in glass lifts. Base jumping is only for the brave or, possibly, the foolish.

One of the base jumpers I had hoped to interview was seriously injured after a base-jumping accident that rendered her incapable of maintaining a normal conversation.

Base jumping is broadly defined as jumping from a fixed object, and it is classified as an extremely dangerous sport. Unlike most sports, where, if something goes wrong, you risk spraining an ankle, in base jumping you could end up dead.

However, it has become relatively safer than it used to be back when Carl Boenish, an American film-maker, conceived of it in the late 1970s. He died during a jump in the mid-1980s.

“We are no longer heroes,” asserts Gaiao. “Enough people have died to ensure that the sport has become safer. New equipment is constantly being put on the market to make the sport safer.”

According to Gaiao, one of two things can go awry during a base jump; either your canopy (parachute) opens towards the object you are jumping off, pulling you into the object; or you fail to control the way your body lands.

The term “base” is an acronym that stands for the four categories of objects that people jump from; B is for building,

A is for antenna, S is for span (generally a bridge) and E is for earth formation (generally a cliff). Once you’ve jumped off all four of these objects, you can claim to be a bona fide base jumper.

One can send in a detailed account of each jump to an unofficial international body and be given a base number, but Gaiao hasn’t bothered applying for one.

“I think it’s a bit of gimmick,” he says.

Base jumpers seem to fall into two categories: those who relish the street cred that comes from participating in a hazardous fringe sport, and those, like Gaiao, who enjoy the intense shot of adrenaline that accompanies a dangerous plunge from a high object.

Gaiao’s first jump is clearly etched in his memory: “It was at Blouberg, off a 1 000-foot (about 300m) vertical rock-face, and I was terrified.”

When I ask Gaiao how he readies himself psychologically for a jump, he roars with laughter.

“There is no way you can prepare yourself. I still feel scared every time I jump. There are different levels of fear, though: one, where you are so terrified that you are incapable of thinking in a rational manner; and then there is fear that feels comfortable, and in this instance you’re able to function in top form. I usually experience the latter,” he says.

Gaiao has always been a daredevil.

“When I was a child we lived in a 13-storey building. My mother had to weld all the windows shut because I used to put on a cape and threaten to jump out of the window.”

Like the majority of base jumpers, Gaiao became interested in the sport after skydiving for several years. He says skydiving helped him to learn how to manipulate his body during a fall. Skydiving, however, is quite different to base jumping; during a base jump, there is no air speed for a jumper to use to help position his body for the landing.

“Skydiving doesn’t teach you how to operate in zero wind,” says Gaiao.

Gaiao quickly became bored with skydiving.

“It is fun but it is nothing like base jumping. Base jumping is really addictive; you just want to repeat the experience over and over again.”

But not everyone shares Gaiao’s sentiments for the sport. There are as few as 20 active base jumpers in South Africa.

“It’s not the sort of sport that just anybody can do,” observes Gaiao.

“Many people come to me saying that they would like to do base jumping, but mostly they chicken out when they stand at the edge of a cliff or an object. You really only know what’s at stake when you stand at the edge looking down.”

How does Gaiao’s loved ones feel about his risky pastime?

“My wife doesn’t mind because she base-jumps with me. My mother, however, is less enthusiastic about the sport. But if I had children, I would be fine with them wanting to do base jumping.”

The sport isn’t just for the courageous; it’s also only for the wealthy: a base rig - a vital set of equipment - costs in the region of R25 000. Fortunately one needn’t part with any cash to participate in a jump, because a base jump can sometimes last as little as six seconds.

And what do those seconds feel like as you swoosh down a building or cliff-face?

“Contrary to what most people think, your life doesn’t flash before your eyes,” Gaiao says. “I remain totally focused on what I’m doing; you have to be.”

While some would believe that a base jump is just the result of a spontaneous, crazy impulse to leap off a building, in reality, base jumpers approach their activity in a deliberate manner.

Gaiao always makes an intense study of prospective jump sites.

“A lot of calculations need to be made before you jump; your equipment needs to be adjusted according to the height of the object.”

He is constantly on the lookout for new jump sites: “Base jumping is a bit like a fever; you start seeing the ‘jump potential’ of every object you come across.

“For instance, when I spotted the tall cranes at the building site of the new Michelangelo Towers, I got really excited; it was the tallest object I had seen in Jo’burg in ages.”

Gaiao then scouted the cranes late at night when no one was around, even climbing to the top of the crane before the night of the jump. Once he had made all the necessary calculations, he snuck onto the top of the crane at 4.30am and jumped to the street below.

Gaiao says one has to base-jump at odd hours because most building managers aren’t willing to give permission. Although the clandestine nature of base jumping does add to the thrill, he would prefer not to worry about being caught.

“One is dealing with so many unknown variables with the jump itself that you don’t need any extra pressure.”

But why does Gaiao put himself under all this pressure?

According to this adrenaline junkie, the attraction of the sport lies in the emotions and sensations that he experiences after each jump.

“How I feel after a jump is unexplainable. It feels like absolute ecstasy or like a strong rush of euphoria. It is the greatest feeling ever.”