Although whips are largely used in the field of entertainment and (ahem) other such things, you'd do well to remember that a carefully balanced rope with a sharp tail is a very dangerous thing to be throwing around the place.

I found this out for myself when I headed down to Uncle Sam's Great American Circus – which is in town until Sunday – to meet ringmaster Matthew Wingate.

As the master of ceremonies in this animal-free circus, Matthew directs the clowns and acrobats and directs the action with an authoritative crack of the whip, and he agreed to run me through the basics.

When he first brought out the bullwhip, it was obvious that this was going to be harder than it looks on Raiders Of The Lost Ark – the whip was bigger and heavier than I'd imagined, but strangely responsive when I took it in my hand.

Matthew, who has been with the circus for much of his life, made the whip himself and told me that is has to be perfectly balanced to operate effectively.

Having first learned how to use a whip at the tender age of nine, Matthew has performed trick acts in the past, which saw him breaking objects and pieces of paper in half with the whip from a distance. He warned me straight away that it wasn't going to be easy.

"Out of a lot of skills in the circus, cracking the whip is very difficult," he said.

"Knife-throwing is easier to learn that cracking a whip because you have to have a lot of upper body strength."

He said you have to put the time in to get it right.

"When I first started I got it in three or four hours, but when you learn a trick, like target work, it can take anything from a few hours to weeks."

Matthew said these target tricks begin with the performer practising on a static target before going on to things that look a little more impressive in the ring, such as a female assistant holding a sheet of paper to break in two with the end of the whip.

Next, Matthew showed me how he cracks the whip. His forearm became a blur of motion as the whip flew back and forth, and a loud crack rent the air. Although I'd expected it to make a noise, I wasn't quite prepared for just how loud these thunderclaps would be as he cracked the whip over his head and at his side.

He gave me an idea about what I should be doing, in that he said my arm should be straight and that I should turn the whip with my wrist, but said that the best way to work out how to get that satisfying cracking sound was to have a go myself.

And that's where it all started to go a bit pear-shaped. I brought the whip over my head and brought it back as quickly as possible, only for the whip to drop lifelessly at the floor. The key to making it crack, you see, is to get the thing in motion and then bring it back on itself, exactly as you would torture your hapless kitchen victim with a tea towel.