My first introduction to power kiting occurred more than a decade ago - before I was even aware of the sport's existence. I was spending the weekend at a friend's family retreat on the west coast of Shetland's main island, halfway between Scotland and Norway, when my windsurfing mate, Rock, emerged from a shed draped in a WWII parachute.

"Aye, we'll 'ave some fun wid dis t'day," Rock grinned as I wedged myself against the gale that had whipped the North Sea into a white-capped frenzy.

"Well, at least we won't be landing in any trees," I said, eyeing a bald landscape of rolling hills bounded by boulder-strewn bays and towering cliffs.

We laid the parachute on the ground and Rock slipped into the harness while I climbed in among the tangled ropes. We hoped our combined weight would anchor us while we got the parachute sorted. No such luck!

An Arctic blast opened the chute and swept us away in an instant. I was held aloft by a bunch of ropes under each arm while the taller Rock rode an imaginary bicycle, only touching the ground with his toes every 20-30m.

We finally came back to earth after cresting a hill - lucky to escape with a few cuts and bruises. "Well now, that was a bit o' fun!" Rock grinned.

I was consequently considerably relieved when my Wipika-certified power kiting instructor placed paramount importance on safety during my official introduction to the sport at Toowoon Bay on the NSW Central Coast.

Scott Solar, a bright American, spent a sunny morning giving detailed instruction on kite set-up, suitable wind direction and velocity, obstacles to be avoided and other handy tips before we waded into the ocean for our first hands-on experience.

An inflated tube on the leading edge of the kite keeps it afloat while twin lines are manipulated to 'swim' the kite into the take-off zone, 90 degrees to the wind.

Standing on a sandy bottom waist-deep in water we practiced getting the kite airborne and steering it into the neutral zone overhead before figure-eighting it through the 'power zone' that descended to the waterline.

Despite the fluctuating southerly Scott's careful guidance soon had us ready for the highlight of our first lesson - a 100m body-drag-cum-surf across the bay.

Instead of standing steadfast and quickly steering the kite back into the neutral zone when its pull threatened to become too strong, he instructed us to go with the gust, gently lifting our feet off the bottom and getting into a bodysurfing position while continuing to dive the kite left and right through a figure-eight in the power zone. The result was an exhilarating zig-zag bodysurf across the bay.

But that was just the beginning. The highlight of our next lesson will be kite surfing, standing on a board while the pull of the kite skims us across the waves. And from there the sky will be the playground, not the limit.

Scott says its a three dimensional sport - a reference to the up, down and across possibilities. Enthusiasts rave about 20m high jumps off huge waves and endless 'hang time'.

Power kiting is one of the world's fastest growing adventure sports with equipment, manoeuvers and applications changing like the wind.

Some people are content to fly a small kite on the beach while others attach surfboards, three-wheel buggies, snowboards and in-line skates to speed across water, land and snow in a bid to, well, get high.