Yes, me. I did it. In Hawaii. My one and only time.
This introvert became an extrovert, that day.
Let me back up. Onboard ship to the Hawaiian Islands was the most boring 10-day cruise I’d ever taken. The crossing started from Vancouver, Canada. Four days at sea without seeing a speck of land usually wouldn’t have fazed me one bit. But, unlike the poolside shenanigans, steel drum bands, and daytime deck activities on Caribbean cruises, what did we get for entertainment? Two mature ladies in vibrant muumuus—with ukuleles.
I kid you not.
No hip-swinging, hand-flourishing, chest-slapping, foot-stomping hula dancers. Just two mature ladies in vibrant muumuus—with ukuleles. They performed on the deck, maybe an hour. Then, they were gone.
So, the excitement of that cruise was certainly the different island excursions. And Maui’s outing was the best.
I have to admit the idea to parasail wasn’t mine. Actually, I tried to dissuade my husband. But, he’d been a paratrooper in the Army, years ago, and wanted this new experience. I went as a tagalong.
My heart thumped the entire ride to the marina. I clumped my way down the pier, each foot feeling like one-hundred-pound weights. Workers welcomed us aboard the boat with big smiles. I felt my cheeks tremble in what I hoped passed for one.
We were driven to open blue waters, positioned facing forward at the stern of the boat, and strapped up and buckled down in a tandem parachute harness. The instructions provided were whispers on the wind. I heard nothing but the throbbing motor while the boat idled. Then, the time came.
The motor raced as the boat gained speed, filling the multi-colored parachute with air. My body began to lift. And just like that, we were going airborne, reeled into the beautiful blue sky by the longest rope I’d ever seen.
Silence. That’s what I heard up there. We were so high some white yachts below looked miniscule, almost like grains of rice. I remember thinking: What if a low-flying plane doesn’t see us? What if the rope breaks? Will the parachute drift downward? Or plummet?
You get the picture.
Well, the breathtaking view from above crushed those concerns. I relaxed, swung my legs like a kid on a swing, and took…it…all…in.
The length of time spent floating escapes me, now.
Soon, I felt the rope jerk. We were reeled in and landed right back where we started, sitting at the stern of the boat. Our feet never got wet.