Don't let winter put you off having an adventure. Three hours north of Auckland is an invigorating world of watery possibilities for all seasons, writes Sarah Daniell.
PARASAILING
"I'm just going to look up, not down," I announce, to anyone who happens to be listening. It's one of those meaningless, banal mission statements made under extreme pressure, in an attempt to sound as if I am under control. To be fair, it's an acute adrenalin-packing situation. My kids and I are being strapped into harnesses and preparing for a triple parasail. "Just one last thing," say the crew, "don't, whatever you do, touch the clips. Only hold the harness straps." Why do extreme-leisure tourist operators always have a signature phrase of doom? Something they'll say seconds before you are launched off the precipice, too late to turn back? Has anyone in the history of parasailing ever played with the carabiner and come undone at 400m? Actually, don't answer. I look up, and repeat my pathetic cry-scream: "I'm going to look up, not down." The kids are admirably contained. We will lift backwards off the boat, and away and up from the ocean until we reach our final cruising height - the highest any parasailing operation in New Zealand will take you. There is a long tradition in our family of me playing chicken. Kids: "Mum, please do a bomb off the bridge with us." Me: "Sorry kids, I wish I could but I'm just too chicken." And here we are today, floating around, tethered to a speed boat that looks, from up here, like a small boiled sweet on the grey sea. Then something magical happens. The silence. It's clear and cold and eerily quiet. It's totally weird. The noise in my head stops and we see everything, all of the Bay of Islands. There's no wind, it's dusk and the sky is turning orange. "There's our motel!" says Isaac, pointing to a small toy building below. There's the fancy Eagle's Nest - holiday home to the stars. "It looks like a turtle down there," says Daisy. "Let's look for sharks!" It feels like we've been floating around for ages, but it's really only about 15 minutes. We return, landing gently back on the stern of the boat. The kids want to go back up straight away. It's exhilarating.
Flying Kiwi Parasail has been a family-run business for more than 30 years. They are total pros, smooth operators and they have a perfect safety record. The youngest parasailing adventurer they've had was aged 4, and the eldest so far - a woman celebrating her 104th birthday.
