They’ve improved on parasailing in recent years, or so my son convinced me before I gave it a whirl over the Gulf of Mexico.  It was much like a windy carnival ride over water (600 feet up, to be exact), but without the safety features. I was surprised that there was no harness or even anything to hold other than the side braces leading to the parachute cords.  

The hardest part (for me) was getting in and out of the motor boat that took us to the offshore vessel where we launched.  It’s impossible to keep a steady footing going from one rocking boat to another. But I had lots of assisting arms.

 Since I’m wind averse, I thought that would bother me.  But it was a warm, pleasant breeze.  As we swept skyward, I had the funny feeling I was on a “flying sofa,” or even funnier, in the open cockpit of a Sopwith Camel like Snoopy might fly.  Next time I want to wear a long scarf, aviator’s cap and goggles and pretend, like Snoopy, that I’m a World War I flying ace in search of the Red Baron.  Now that would be great fun.

The clever part of the flight is having the “flying sofa” land so easily back upon the tow vessel with barely a splash of water.  Having once had a tail hook landing aboard an aircraft carrier in the Indian Ocean, I was expecting, at least, a noticeable jolt. But it was really quite a soft landing.