Parasailing, windsurfing, skydiving – these are all the things I figured I would do if I had like a week to live – ’cause I’m going to die anyway, so why not experience the thrill of sailing through the air?
My assignment this month? That’s right. Parasailing. No, I’m not dying, just on assignment.
Don’t get me wrong. I like the idea of being up there. It’s the thought of coming down that I worry about. But orders are orders. I dutifully call Janice Traber co-owner of Atlantic Parasail, Inc., located behind the Two Mile Landing Restaurant and Cape May Parasail, Inc., located at the South Jersey Marina in Cape May. We book a reservation – by we, I mean me and “B” the photographer, who will not be going up with me, but staying safely on the boat, captained by Janice’s husband Matt Traber, the other half of the co-owner.
You need to allow three days for a reservation, so it looks like Tuesday is when I’ll be sailing through the air with the greatest of unease.
B and I arrive at 11 a.m. at the Two Mile Landing dock. Jacki is in the reservation booth and very busy with phone inquiries. She informs us that Janice will be right with us. It’s pretty quiet out here on the deck. The restaurant isn’t open yet and there are just a few others waiting to go parasailing too. I don’t see anyone else up there in the sky, so I can’t really get a good vicarious panic attack while I wait. There are various waivers we sign. I make a point of not reading them, ‘cause I’m in denial, that’s why.
Janice arrives. Goes over some scheduling stuff with Jacki and tells us that she’s coming out with us today and that it is her first boat ride of the summer season – she has been landlocked with paper work but will take a break today. This is good, I think, because I’ll feel safer with someone who is likely to recognize the signs of panic/and or heart attack.
Before we know it, it’s time to board. I don’t want to board. Maybe, I think, I’ll switch with B. He can go up and I’ll take pictures. First Mate Chase Bryan helps us across the gangplank – I mean ramp and onto the boat.
We sit like school children on either side of the boat. I’m still thinking about pleading with B to up go instead of me, but then it dawns on me that I’m the writer and it’s my job. I must experience the moment.
There are nine of us, excluding the crew, seven of whom will be flying up and up and away. I notice that I’m the only solo flight on deck. Everyone else is coupling up. Hmmm. Nah. I don’t really want to go up with anyone else – no one should have to be subjected to my screaming like a banshee and pleading for my life up there among the seagulls.
And don’t go thinking I’m acting like loon. I’m cool. You’d never know that I’m in a state of panic. I sit very quietly and calmly like the good poker player that I am.
“Are you a little nervous?” asks B.
“No. Not really. Why?”
Well, aren’t you gripping the side of the boat a little tightly?” asks B.
“Am I?”
“Susan, your knuckles are turning white.”
“Really? No, no,” I say as I pry my hands away from the boat, and start clutching my knees. “No. I’m looking forward to it. This’ll be fun. Won’t it be fun Janice?”
Janice laughs and assures me that I’ll love it and that it is very calm and peaceful up there. Now, by “up there” does she mean up in the sky or up in heaven?
I look around the boat. There are two couples, one younger, one older – they came on as a group – and they look pretty calm. There are two girls – well, young women – they are there with, I assume their mother, who will not be going up – they look pretty calm. I’m calm too. Think I’m not? Well, you’re wrong. I am.
Of course, you’d think I’d ask who everybody is. I am a reporter. I just can’t seem to get words out.
And then, the boat just takes off. Vrooom!! Talk about sailing through the air. Hey this is pretty much fun. I could do this all day. Maybe we will. Maybe the wind’s wrong and we’ll just enjoy a nice boat ride. Gradually, I notice I’m starting to relax a little – not that I wasn’t relaxed before, mind you, it’s just that I notice I’ve started to look around and, you know, enjoy the moment.
We see a tourist boat which passes us by. Everybody waves. There’s another one of the Taber’s parasailing boats heading back in. We seem to be pretty far out, although I can still see the Wildwood coastline. What’s this? Someone’s talking to me. This can’t be good. I look up and it’s Chase. He’s putting this stuff on me. Oh my gawd, it’s a harness and a lifejacket – that would be emphasis on the word LIFE.
Someone, I think it’s Janice or maybe Matt – yeah, like I’m conscious enough to know if it’s a woman or a man speaking to me – anyway, someone is telling me that I’ll be going up first.
Oh gawd. We zip around the waters for a bit more and then, that fateful sound. That would be the sound of the motor slowing down which can only mean one thing. I notice that people are looking at me – kind of the way you would look at an astronaut right before he or she goes into space.
The crew is giving me directions something like – move to the bow of the boat. Bow, what’s a bow? You mean you want me to curtsey. WHAT BOW? Oh, I see. They want me to stand up and walk over to where Matt and Chase are standing. That would be right next to that large yellow thing that looks like a parachute.
Ok. Here we go. I can do this. What’s the problem? Chase and Matt are saying something to me again.
“Grab onto to the bar.”
Yes I can do that. Grabbing good.
“Now sit down.”
I sit. My legs are straight out in front of me.
“Let go of the bar and hold onto the parachute straps.”
Ok. Now I know something’s going to happen soon, so let me sit here a minute and prepare.
Woooop!! Woooosh!!
Hey what’s happening? Holy parasailing!! I’m up in the air. They’re all down there. I’m up here. Really. You wouldn’t believe it. One minute you’re splayed on the deck and the next, you’re 300-feet up in the air. And I didn’t feel a thing. Not that rush you get when the elevator goes up to the 30th floor, not that light headedness you feel when the plane ascends. Nothing. I mean I didn’t even feel my body leave the deck of the boat.
Woohoo! They’re all looking up at me and waving. First dilemma: in order to wave back, I must release my hands or at least one hand. Well, I seem pretty snug. It’s not like I’m flailing around up here. I’ve decided to live on the wild side and release my hands for waving purposes.
Well all righty now. I’m waving. Ok, that’s done. Now what do I do? I know. I could sit back and enjoy the view. How often does anyone get this chance and live to tell about it? Well, anyone who signs up for a parasail ride with the Trabers, still, carpe diem and all that.
So here I am swinging. Just a swingin’ and I hear it. Nothingness. A woosh. There is this total and complete silence. There’s the view also. We are not near the coastline today because of the prevailing winds so no dolphin sightings, but I can see all of Wildwood and Wildwood Crest. Me? I don’t really care about the view. What I care about is the silence. Parasailing is like instant serenity or as Frank Costanza from Seinfeld said in one episode – “Serenity Now.” So for the next ten minutes I embrace the utter peace. A seagull flies by. I can’t see him but I hear his call. The sound of it is so crystal clear, like we were next door neighbors.
Occasionally, I look down at the boat and notice that B is waving away. I think he’s afraid that I’ve passed out. Silly man. What’s to be afraid of? Of course, I do take note that the Cape May Parasail seems to be coming my way but no worries – that’s what the boat captain is for. On the other hand – that banner plane can stay over there – thank you very much. Oh what a tangled banner we can weave if we fly too close to the sea and me.
Ah oh. Something’s happening. Many people are waving – Janice, the others waiting to go up, B. I feel something. The water looks awfully close. Splash down!! In the water I go. I know B orchestrated that little maneuver because they told me I didn’t have to go in the water if I didn’t want to. Darn him. Whooop. I’m up again and suddenly back on the deck of the boat.
Chase is telling me to grab onto the bars. And that’s it. I’m parachute free and one of the couples are standing up and getting ready to pass me.
“How was it?” everyone asks.
“It was great.”
“Were you scared?”
“No.”
“Did you realize they were maneuvering boat around to give you a better view?”
“No. I didn’t think about it. I thought the wind was moving me around.”
I’m looking up at the couple who are now 300-feet in the air and I’m thinking, ahhh, maybe it would be nice to share the experience. But then, if you’re up in the air with someone, I think my tendency would be to chatter the moment away.
So, my advice to those of you interested in a parasail experience? Sharing the experience with someone can be great fun, but if you want a Zen moment, go alone. But go. It’s really like nothing I’ve ever experienced and safe as can be from what I can observe.
Captain Traber has been doing this for 20 years. He used to run a similar business only with jet skis but found that to be a little too stressful. Once he found out about parasailing, he had to go to Trenton and see about getting permission to start the business. He is the first in the state to do so and the only one licensed in this area. Private boaters are not permitted to operate their own parasail – so fahgetaboutit.
Here’s the scoop. Parasailing is $60 per person and is by reservation. You are on the boat about 1½ hours. They take a maximum of 10 people during that time and everyone takes a turn. Flight times are 8-10 minutes for a single and 12-15 minutes for a double. Normally, if you have a combined weight of 350 pounds or less, doubling up is not a problem.
Janice assures us that it is safe and fun for all ages. Flyers range from ages 2 to 96. The Trabers have a 100% safety record over the 20 years they’ve been running the business.
You take off and land from the boat’s flight deck and may get dipped in the water if you’d like or stay dry if that’s your preference.
Go on. Live a little. You won’t regret it.
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