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Carol Perkins: Parasailing Our heroine went parasailing and actually survived to anwer the two questions: Was it worth it? and, Would you do it again? -CM The next earlier Carol Perkins column: London By Carol Perkins "You're doing what?" Guy was flabbergasted. I am, after all, a play-it-safe woman. The story begins with a trip to Panama City Beach. Eight women, all AARP eligible and most card-carrying members, enjoyed the lapping waves of a pristine beach and the sun for a week. As I lay under an umbrella, I noticed, far out to sea, a smiley-face parachute gliding through the air. Parasailing! I turned to the most athletic of the group and said, "Would you like to do that?" With a wink and a nod, four of us signed up without an inkling of what we were doing. Lives in hands of two boys barely old enough to shave Parasailing is an activity where a person is towed behind a boat while attached to a parachute, or parasail. The boat drives off, launching the parasailors into the air. We put our lives into the hands of two boys who were barely able to shave. I'm getting ahead of myself. The parasail boat was drifting about two miles or so off the coast, so in order to get to it, tourists rode to the site in a banana boat, which is an inflatable yellow boat, pulled by a jet ski. With our life jackets secured, we crawled onto the banana boat and were soon skimming across the rough waves to a small fishing boat with a launch pad. The only way to get from the lower-decked banana boat onto the parasailing boat was to flop one's upper body onto the bow of the boat and hope to be pulled up. There was no ladder or rope: just you flat-bellied on the bow as the boat rocked to the rhythm of the waves. I dreaded my turn. I threw myself on the surface like a fish flopping out of the water while the friends behind me pushed, and the ones in front pulled. Once up, I had to balance on the flat surface, like a drunk walking the line, and then step down to the waiting area and hope not to be tossed out by the rough waters knocking against the sides. The next step was to "harness up" two by two. This meant being attached to leg and mid- section harnesses that were attached to the boat and the parasail. "Sit down with legs straight out for the take off," we were directed. I didn't sit; I plopped. So safe, a 102 year old man did it "We had a man 102 years old do this last week." I wanted to say "whoop-tee-do." As the boat moved forward, we ascended off the back and into the silence of the sky, hundreds of feet above the Gulf. As we glided peacefully away from land, I felt tremendously happy. Then it was over. We were reeled in carefully and unharnessed. The banana boat returned with more tourists, and we were to load and go back to shore. It occurred to me that lowering myself into the banana boat was going to be almost impossible. With nothing to hold on to, how was I going to slip from this slick surface down about three feet into the banana boat without falling or throwing others off the boat? I must have sensed what was going to happen. The first two made it down with a struggle because balancing was difficult. As they reached for my hands, I finally lowered one leg into the banana boat, but in doing so, that boat moved one way, and the parasail boat moved the other; I was left doing the splits in between. I let go and dropped into black depths of the ocean. Ski-jet guy said he'd bring banana boat around Surprisingly, I didn't panic as I surfaced, even though I am not a water person. For those watching in stricken silence, I did a thumbs up. The two guys on the boat were of no help except to tell me to push away from it. I had already done that. "I'll bring the banana boat around so you can get on," the jet ski guy said. That would mean heaving myself two or three feet into the air, throwing one leg over the side, and pulling up. I could have capsized the banana boat, and then all eight people would have been in the water. "Do I look like I could crawl onto that banana boat?" I said point blank, "I'm riding with you!" At first he protested that he couldn't do that, but I assured him he could. He lowered a bar in the back that came up to my shoulders. "You'll have to get a knee on that step and pull yourself up." He wasn't very nice. After hitting my knees enough times that I could no longer feel the pain, I managed to get one knee on the step, then a foot, heave my upper body onto the back, and shimmy my way onto the seat. I then wrapped my arms around his waist and told him I was holding on! He reeked of alcohol. Meanwhile, my athletic friend was yelling from the banana boat, "Don't go fast. Don't let her fall off." When we closed in on the shore, I jumped off as directed and fought my way to the sand. My friends on shore saw me wading through rough waters to get to them. "How did you get here?" They were looking for the others. "Long story!" Episode endowed writer with souvenirs As a souvenir, I brought home two bruised arms, a six inch scrape on one of them, and a banged up knee. My bad knee! I heard Guy talking to our kids on the phone."She looks like she's been in a battle!" Would I do it again? NO. Was it worth the bruises and falling into the ocean and floating around for ten minutes hoping no sharks swam by? YES. Those five minutes of peacefulness in the sky was worth it all. This story was posted on 2010-08-01 13:02:44
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Have comments or corrections for this story? Use our contact form and let us know. More articles from topic Carol Perkins:
Carol Perkins: London Carol Perkins: Hoosier hospitality in outlet mall Carol Perkins: The Hitching Post Carol Perkins: Who is watching your children? Carol Perkins: Feeling Like Myself Carol Perkins: Churches Carol Perkins: Missing Mother Carol Perkins: The new washing machine Carol Perkins: Let's Talk About...Flour Sack Dresses Carol Perkins: Let's Talk About... Field Hockey View even more articles in topic Carol Perkins |
 
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