Chapter 2

The Whistle is Unintentionally Blown

So why, after all my support, would all these charges suddenly be brought against me? The answer is, Normalization of Deviation has been established at Skydive Chesapeake and I, “had overstepped a divide between operational matters and community involvement”, by privately pointing it out.

March 20th, 2021

The jump on February 25th wasn’t the only one that included more jumpers than seat belts and people climbing out of pilot seats. My second jump on Saturday, March 20th, my last at Skydive Chesapeake, also included those elements.

Both jumps that day were to practice AFF exits. The first one was with three instructors and two videographers.

(A link to that video is here and it includes graphics and countdowns intended to illustrate jump run distances over the ground and times to exit for our group and the one before. Those features in the video were to help the pilot and jumpers realize just why so many jumpers were landing off the field, which happened more than once on many of the days I was there. Once, the whole load landed quite far from the field, after dark. My wife and I were one of several rescue parties. I had to knock on a neighbor’s door for permission to drive on his farm. He offered to help and was kind enough to let us use his truck.)

My group on the second jump that day was me and a very experienced jumper, one with well over 10,000 jumps. This time, the skydiver in the co-pilot's seat was Joe Manlove, the drop zone’s 1st jump course instructor. We had to go around for a second jump run because the pilot overshot the spot. At one point during the go-around I happened to be looking forward as Joe struggled to get out of his seat.

Since I was the second jumper to board, I sat on the starboard side all the way forward with my back to the co-pilot seat. Five jumpers were on my side of the aircraft which only had four seat belts. I tried to share my belt with the 10k jump guy but it was not long enough to do so. Turning to my right gave me an unobstructed view of the pilot as he waited for the others to board. The jumper with whom I was unable to share a belt, is a commercial pilot with a multi-engine rating and thousands of PIC hours flying jumpers. Like me, he was far enough forward to be able to speak to the pilot.

After getting settled he turned to the pilot and said, “You know, you’ll have your hands full with an engine-out.”

The young pilot, a Russian named Alex, looked to him with worry, if not fear in his eyes, and said, “Tell me about it.”

His expression did not convey confidence. Looking into his eyes I recalled another incident with him that chilled me.

Loss of Control

On December 11, 2020, during the first load at the drop zone for the Piper PA31-310 Navajo (N6719L), Alex lost control of the airplane. The ride to altitude that day was erratic. We didn’t climb out aggressively but rather seemed to float at times and bank and pitch excessively. The motion made me airsick. I didn’t vomit but I was on the edge.

On jump run when Alex lit the light telling the jumper in the back to open the door, he couldn’t. The cord used to release the door to close it had been mis-routed. Alex took both hands off the yoke to try to clear the cord and lost control of the airplane. Derbak shouted in a loud and very urgent tone, “Fly the f__king airplane!!” Control was quickly regained but not before we pitched sharply and banked enough to make all who weren't seated have to brace. I fell against the port side of the plane.

Eventually someone in the back was able to clear the cord and open the door. I’ve never been more happy to leave an airplane. The others felt the same. One of them, a friend from the old days who had just completed a recurrency jump with me, hasn’t been back because of what happened.

The current FAA Advisory Circular for Sport Parachuting, 105-2E, was issued after the NTSB published a landmark report in 2008. That report, NTSB/SIR-08/01, looked at a number of causes for fatal aircraft accidents, one being pilot proficiency. The AC called for pilot training and review of procedures, including exits, before flying with customers. It didn’t seem like Alex, or anyone else at the drop zone, was aware of the Advisory Circular or the landmark report.

The Ill Fated outline

With that event in mind as we taxied to the runway on March 20th I considered the facts and a few frightening possibilities. First was the possibility that we were overloaded and in the hands of a sketchy pilot. Then I thought of how far I was from the door, engine failures are quite possible in old airplanes with piston engines and a number of other questionable practices that had become pretty standard in the previous few months. I decided then to do something else to improve matters and the next day I made an outline. It included fifteen items. Some are non-urgent equipment or operational improvements. Others were significant safety issues. As it turned out at least one is a Federal violation.

Since my assistance had been very freely accepted up until then, on literally dozens of matters, I assumed it would be welcomed on matters concerning safety. The last paragraph of the outline, which was four pages, read, “Since the drop zone is new, some procedures and habits are yet to be established. It’s understandable that conditions that are less than ideal may linger. Some that remain can lead to worse consequences than others. By pointing them out, even minor ones, I hope to help the drop zone succeed and thrive.

The First Reprisals, Suspension and False Accusations

That outline, which was sent to Ben Harris on March 23rd, was the action that brought on the viscous attacks on my character and the suspension. The letter of suspension said it was about “misconduct involving verbal altercations on March 20” but the actual reason really couldn’t be more obvious. I had challenged Harris and Derbak on important matters and they took offense. The suspension was clearly a reprisal for citing safety issues and offending their pride.

Harris wrote back on the 24th simply saying, “I shared this with John and Troy. Thanks for the input we’ll talk more this weekend if you are around.” Thanking me led me to believe that he was accepting my input as intended. His thanks was a ruse.

To my knowledge our Safety and Training Advisor, John Williams, had not been to the drop zone since it opened but for protocol I sent the outline to him too. Williams’ absence was one of the items in my list.

The following Saturday, March 27, as my wife and I prepared to enjoy a Saturday at the drop zone with friends, Harris asked me to follow him into a storage room. Derbak was there with another jumper who is listed with the USPA as an S&TA along with Williams. He told my wife the week before that he was no such thing, and he was emphatic about it. That’s why I didn’t send the outline to him.

Harris was cold and angry. Derbak was furious. Harris paged through the outline in less than a minute. He said none of the points were valid. Putting it aside he then told me that I was suspended from the property for thirty days and my ratings would never be used there. He explained that the incidents that involved confronting staff members were about what happened the previous week when he wasn’t there. Despite that, he didn’t want to hear my side of that story.

Of course, this was grossly unfair, but then he brought up the other revelations about the customers, students and sexual assaults. Derbak nodded and supported Harris throughout the brief meeting. Lastly, Harris proclaimed that he had sent my outline to the USPA. If they had a problem with what I had brought up they would let him know.

Banishment

On April 30, before returning from the suspension, I sent an email to Harris, Derbek, Manlove and Max Sivohins, the drop zone’s third partner, asking for clarification of the probation process and asking for a meeting and reconciliation. Harris called within hours to tell me that I was permanently banned from the drop zone. His stated reason was that I had informed the USPA and the FAA about unsafe practices.

I blew the whistle. Whether or not it should have been blown had nothing to do with it.

On May 7th I sent an email to the drop zone and copied Ron Bell, USPA’s Director of Safety and Training and Shauna Finley, their Eastern Region Director. Unlike the suspension, the reason for this action was not put in writing, which isn't surprising. Harris couldn't say before witnesses the real reason for his actions, much less make a record of them. Bell and Finley knew what was going on yet neither intervened.

Few have asked about what happened or why I haven’t been around. Naturally that’s disappointing but since my reputation is an important concern, regardless of friendships, I’m compelled to tell my side of the story. Ethics and safety are important too and those subjects are also part of this. The “divide” Harris alluded to, not the confrontation or sexual assaults, or anything else, is the reason for the suspension and the permanent ban.

Summarizing Some of What's Awry in Ridgely

The sort of operation that Ben Harris and Chris Derbak manage requires such a division. Without it, violating regulations has consequences because operational and moral deviance can be scrutinized. In his letter of suspension Harris wrote, “Our unique industry requires a certain degree of separation between operational matters and community involvement.” It’s his unique operation that requires such separation, not our industry. All industries maintain some separation from their communities, but skydiving is special for the opposite reason. To be safe, skydiving operations require diligent, constant customer involvement.

Jumpers are responsible for their own safety and their actions can affect others; in the plane, in freefall and on the ground. Skydiving operations should be very much a part of every jumper’s business and operators should promote a safety culture where “community involvement” is welcome. Such an environment doesn’t exist at Skydive Chesapeake.