I am hanging from a parachute, high above a boat which zips across the bay, motors roaring.
Up here, everything is quiet except the gentle breeze.
Blue sea stretches out below, and the sun sparkles on the water.
But I am nervous about this, though my launch from the back of the boat was so quick and effortless that I was up in the air before I realised it.
I keep my eyes on the boat and the tow-rope, hanging on to the harness so tightly my knuckles are white and my fingers start to go numb.
I consider waving - the signal to have the trip cut short - but I don't want to let go.
Then I start to relax a little, and realise that even if the tow-rope breaks, I will just drift slowly down into the warm waters of the bay.
Gravity will be my friend.
I lift my eyes to the horizon and drink in the spectacular view over Port Stephens and its 27 sandy beaches.
In doing so, I miss the pod of dolphins over which I have just floated.
No whales today, but this is part of their migration route.
I let go with one hand and get some circulation back into my fingers.
There seems no need for the death grip after all, but I try not to look as if I'm waving my arm in case they think I want to come down.
The boat slows and I drift downwards.
I know what's coming - it happened to my fellow passengers.
I'm going to get wet.
My toes trail in the water for a few seconds, then the boat speeds up and up I go again, this time to be winched in and land back on board, buzzing with adrenaline.
A day earlier, I arrived in Sydney at 3.30pm, and by the time I picked up my car and got out of the northern suburbs darkness was falling, somewhat spoiling what would otherwise be a scenic trip on good, well-signposted roads.
I drove the last part of the trip to Port Stephens in pitch darkness, watching for wombats and kangaroos as the roadside signs warned me to.
I saw none, much to my relief.
On my fleeting one-night visit I was staying at Shoal Bay Bed and Breakfast, and my hosts Philip and Christine Latham invited me to join them for dinner.
We shared a lovely meal, and the company was pleasant, but the travel and the three-hour time difference sent me to bed around 10pm, which felt to me like 1am.
My huge room was well-appointed, with a dressing room as big as my bedroom at home.
I hopped into bed - it was like sinking into a cloud - and quickly fell asleep to the soothing sound of the sea.
It was no trouble to wake early for my breakfast at the luxurious Shoal Bay Resort and Spa, a short walk along the road.
At last I could see the beauty of the bay and its pristine waters.
Fishermen tried their luck from the jetty and the rocks as the sun streamed down.
Boats buzzed past and dolphins frolicked in the bay.
I had been here 11 hours, 8 of them asleep, and I already loved it.
The paragliding buzz is still with me as I arrive at the Anna Bay Surf School at One Mile Beach for a lesson.
Though the air temperature is 28degC and the water is 17degC (just like a Dunedin spring day), I am issued a wetsuit and I squash myself into it, feeling like a black pudding as I head for the beach.
Instructor Warren Keogh straps the surfboard to my leg and we head into the surf.
I am not wearing my glasses, which turns out to be helpful for two reasons.
One: I can't lose them in the waves.
And two: I can't really see the other people on the beach, so I am less self-conscious.
I love the surf - always have.
And when it's warm, it's bliss.
However, in one short lesson I'm never going to learn to surf.
I catch a few waves bodyboard-style, giving up when I get really tired to just float around in the waves for a while.
I love it and I never want to stop.
But it's time to visit the Stockton sand dunes.
These impressive monsters are the spitting image of the Sahara, and often play that role in ads.
Here you can sand-surf, hire quad bikes or take a tour in a Hummer or a dune buggy.
I go the low-tech way - on a camel.
Carting me around is a bit of a comedown for mine, called Ruby, who is a racing camel and occasional movie star (she appeared in Nim's Island).
She kneels down to let me climb aboard, then stands up again as I lean backwards trying not to slide off.
The camel feels a bit like a horse, only slimmer and much taller, and it's just as hard on the butt.
It seems the right way to experience the dunes, though I am a bit saddle-sore when we get back.
Camel rides are available at weekends or every day during school holidays.
Lunch at the Port Stephens Winery is a great way to chill out after all the activity.
Have I really done all that in one single morning? The winery has just been bought by Murray's Beer, a boutique brewing company.
Murray's aims to set up a microbrewery there to complement the winery and restaurant.
Sadly, my tasting of the wines and beers has to be nipped in the bud - I am driving again afterwards .
It's a shame.
I enjoy tiny tastes of the wines and the quarter-glass of Murray's beer I allow myself really hits the spot.
My lunch is lovely and after all the action I want to curl up under the trees for a nap, rather than leave this lovely district I have just discovered.
I've only been here for 19 hours: I want more.
• Janice Murphy travelled to Port Stephens as a guest of New South Wales Tourism.
