Every city in America has stories to tell. For the lucky few, the best way to explore those stories is by boat. It could be anything from historical sites to secret coves to dining hotspots—if a metropolis has a navigable waterway, it’s worth hopping into a boat and taking an epic urban cruise. We’ve already taken an Aviara through the downtowns of New York, Chicago and Miami. Here are four more iconic cities to explore on the water.

Washington, D.C.

George Washington may have famously crossed the Delaware in a rowboat, but we crossed the Washington Channel in an Aviara AV36 powered by triple Mercury Verados. The slick helm, sleek T-top and broad beam make for a stylish but stout luxury dayboat with a fortitude that our founding fathers would envy. Via the channel, the Tidal Basin, the Potomac River and the Anacostia River, much of the US capital can be experienced by boat.

We took a water view of the Jefferson Memorial, the neoclassic domed monument to the third president that sits on the edge of the Tidal Basin. Completed in 1943, the Jefferson Memorial is replete with quotes and words of wisdom from the author of the Declaration of Independence.

Running across the Potomac River past Kendall Point and into the Pentagon Yacht Basin gave us a water’s edge view of the Pentagon, America’s military headquarters. Though technically in Arlington, Virginia, the Pentagon is so close to—and closely associated with—D.C. that it should be part of any aquatic tour. Sitting atop 29 acres, with 6.5 million square feet of office space, the sheer size of the Pentagon is difficult to comprehend until you’ve idled through the Pentagon Yacht Basin by boat.

Another architectural marvel best experienced by boat is the Frederick Douglass Memorial Bridge, which spans over the Anacostia River not far from where it joins the Potomac. Completed in 1922, the 1,600-foot-long bridge features three sets of white arches that give off a majestic vibe, especially when lit up at night. The bridge is named after the African American intellectual and author who was one of the chief abolitionist voices in the country during the 1800s.

There’s so much more to see and do in D.C. that it could take weeks, but we got to experience some of the best of it by boat.

Our D.C. Ride: Aviara AV36 (outboard)

• LOA: 36’8″
• Beam: 10’10” 
• Draft (max): 2’5″ 
• Fuel Capacity: 214 gal. 
• Time to 30 mph: 10.5 sec.

Detroit, Michigan

The Detroit Lions, once the doormat of the NFL, finally restored the roar this past fall, putting Detroit back in the public eye as a city that all of America can be proud of. Boaters in the know, however, have always been in love with the Motor City because its waterways have long been a boater’s paradise. The heart of the city sits along the banks of the Detroit River, the waterway that connects Lake St. Clair to Lake Erie, which means boaters from anywhere on the Eastern Seaboard can eventually make their way through. They won’t be disappointed.

Founded in the 1700s as a trading post, Detroit has evolved into a working port that moves 13 million tons of cargo through its docks every year. Seeing the Great Lakes while transiting through the shipping channels up close and personal is an amazing experience, one that we got to enjoy aboard an Aviara AV36 powered by twin 430 hp, 6.4-liter Ilmor engines, the type of muscle you’d expect to enjoy in the city that gave us the Ford Mustang, the Chevrolet Chevelle and the Corvette. The sweet rumble of the Ilmors provides the perfect background music to the Motor City.

The most notable part of the city’s waterfront has to be the iconic GM Renaissance Center, a collection of glass buildings anchored by the 73-story tower in the center adorned by the GM logo. The complex houses the General Motors corporate offices, plus a hotel, shops and some choice restaurants. Joe Louis Arena, home of the Red Wings hockey team, sits a short way downriver. The whole historic waterfront is accessible by the Riverwalk, a 3-mile-long park system along the shoreline that also includes William G. Milliken State Park and Harbor, a public marina guarded by the 63-foot-tall lighthouse.

Don’t forget that Detroit is the home of Motown, and the Riverwalk also houses the Aretha Franklin Amphitheatre, an outdoor arena capable of holding 6,000 people for some live music. We took it all in aboard our AV36.

Our Detroit Ride: Aviara AV36 (sterndrive)

• LOA: 36’8″
• Beam: 10’10”
• Draft (max): 2’5″ 
• Fuel Capacity: 214 gal.
• Time to 30 mph: 10.5 sec.

Charleston, South Carolina

Charleston Harbor sits at the convergence of three historic rivers—the Ashley, the Cooper and the Wando—so it’s a nautical town by sheer force of nature. It’s one of the most historical coastal cities in the US, with an abundance of cultural riches to explore. We dived in aboard an Aviara AV32 with twin Mercury 300 Verados. With plenty of comfy wraparound seating and no obstructed views, it’s basically a floating living room, and we put Charleston up on the big screen.

We first put in on the Ashley River and cruised over to the Charles Towne Landing, where English settlers first set up shop in 1670, building what would eventually become Charleston and ultimately the state of South Carolina. With more than 80 acres of national park and 6 miles of hiking trails, Charles Towne Landing is a time warp to the Colonial era, with oaks and gardens older than the country itself.

Want more history? Cruise over to Fort Sumter, the fortress in the middle of the harbor that became the site of the battle that ignited the Civil War, when on April 12, 1861, Confederate forces fired on the US federal soldiers stationed there. We were able to circle the 234-acre island fortress in the Aviara as part of our grand Charleston tour.

The opportunities to explore around Charleston seemed never-ending—from transiting under the Ravenel Bridge to exploring the miles of Low Country marshes and creeks to heading over the famous Isle of Palms for a raft-up or a beach walk. It’s the perfect city to get lost in by boat.

Our Charleston Ride: Aviara AV32 (outboard)

• LOA: 32’6″
• Beam: 10’4″
• Dry Weight: 13,000
• Helm: Triple-dash display and joystick piloting
• Max Horsepower: Ilmor sterndrives, Mercury Verado outboards to 800 hp

Tampa-St. Petersburg, Florida

Most people don’t need convincing that Florida is the boating capital of the world, but if you need proof, head down to the Tampa-St. Petersburg area, where the sun typically shines 361 days a year and the average annual temperature is 74 degrees. In fact, the area holds a place in the Guinness World Records for most consecutive days of sunshine, with 768. With 244 miles of shoreline to explore, it’s a boater’s dream.

Tampa Bay itself is Florida’s largest estuary, covering 400 square miles from the north points in Old Tampa Bay and Hillsborough Bay all the way down under the impressive 430-foot tall Sunshine Skyway Bridge, which also happens to be 12 miles long. We decided to explore the area in an Aviara AV32 with twin Mercury 400 Verados, which had enough juice to help us run quickly between myriad boating destinations.

Read Next: Five Cities With Great Bass Fishing

On the north end of Hillsborough Bay, there are ways to access the historic Ybor City area, the Cuban stronghold once known for its cigar-making that now houses dozens of incredible shops and restaurants. Amalie Arena, home of the Stanley Cup-winning Tampa Bay Lightning, is visible from the water. There’s also the Riverwalk area along the Hillsborough River, where you can see the Tampa Museum of Art and the Armature Works, a former streetcar facility that now houses restaurants, bars, and even more shops.

Moving south through the bay, there are endless miles of shoreline and sites to explore, all the way down under the iconic Sunshine Skyway Bridge, which happens to be the longest cable-stayed concrete bridge in the world. With a vertical clearance of 190 feet under its tallest point, it can handle the largest ships coming into port, so clearance for our Aviara A32 was never a problem. The towering bridge serves as the gateway to the Gulf of Mexico and other great attractions such as Fort De Soto Park, along with miles of Florida coastline and all the sunny days you need to explore them.

Our Tampa-St. Pete Ride: Aviara AV32 (outboard)

• LOA: 32’6″
• Beam: 10’4″
• Dry Weight: 13,000
• Helm: Triple-dash display and joystick piloting
• Max Horsepower: Mercury Verado outboards to 800 hp

The post Urban Boating: Four Iconic Cities to Visit appeared first on Boating Mag.

Drifting in the Gulf of Mexico, Emmanuel Williams began to wonder if he would ever see the sign. The slightest of taps at the tip of his fishing rod, followed by a slackening of its 80-pound braided line—the telltale signature of a swordfish’s bill whacking his squid-baited hook some 1,400 feet below the surface. It’s a fish he had long dreamed of catching, a dream that brought him all the way from South Florida to Venice, Louisiana, for a tantalizingly brief one-day weather window that could potentially turn dream into reality. A fish that had eluded him for the past three hours and, as the day began to wane, was threatening to send him home empty-handed. 

Why would any of that matter? Because Williams had decided to go after a sword not on a sizable center-console or an offshore ­battlewagon but, rather, a Sea-Doo. A personal watercraft barely longer than the saber-tipped creature that he hoped to bring aboard. It would be monumental—if it would only happen.

Suddenly that long-awaited signal appeared. The rod dipped, rose, then doubled over. And then the epic, uniquely intimate fight ­began. 

Bite-Size Battlewagon

The surreal nature of the moment, sitting 20 miles offshore on an open 11-foot PWC with a potential swordfish on the line, wasn’t lost on the one-time kid from Miramar, Florida, who grew up dangling his lines off piers and bridges with his father, David. The pair would reel in snapper off the Dania Pier or grouper in the Florida Keys. These moments between father and son had instilled a passion for fishing in Emmanuel, and also a desire to see what waited beyond the confines of land. “As I grew older, I just had a longing to catch bigger fish,” the now-24-year-old explains. “My dad isn’t like the biggest offshore guy, so I knew that I was going to have to figure out a way to do it for myself. I saw videos of these dudes in Hawaii and Australia, and they were on Sea-Doos, rigging them up and going offshore. At the time I was still in high school, and I’m like, man, this seems like the most inexpensive way I can get out on the ocean and catch fish.”

Following graduation and several months of training to become an EMT, he took a job while attending paramedic school. The reliable flow of income allowed him to purchase a personal ­watercraft of his own, an offshore-worthy PWC just like those guys in Hawaii and Australia. 

Just kidding. He actually bought the least big-water-friendly PWC known to man: Sea-Doo’s relatively pint-size Spark. “It’s literally not what you want to be out there on,” Williams says with a laugh of his early forays taking the 10-foot 440-pound craft into Atlantic waters, “but I worked with what I had at the time. Made it work, started fishing offshore, and started making videos.”

Those videos, a carryover from his days as a skateboarder, would prove a game-changer. Uploaded to his YouTube channel, iBelongOutdoors, they documented his runs into the Atlantic in search of pelagic fish, but also revealed a humble, enthusiastic angler with a ready smile and engaging personality. Ultimately, the adventures, the fish and that enthusiasm were contagious. Williams traded up to a Sea-Doo FishPro (a larger craft built specifically with offshore fishing in mind), his viewership began to grow, and before long, Sea-Doo came calling, ready to make him a brand ambassador. One morning, he woke up to discover that one of his videos—a 112-mile trip across the Atlantic to the Bahamas—had gone viral and racked up over a million views. Paramedic school was put on hold, and many people’s dream job became Williams’ new reality. 

Stick ’Em!

Fast-forward to the present, and things were getting hectic, not to mention a little bit crowded on the Sea-Doo. Long before that dream fish had hit the bait, Williams had welcomed aboard Sebastian Noel, a friend and fishing guide from Miami whose unique résumé also included stints on reality shows such as Survivor and The Challenge. Noel and videographer Tyler Fischer had hitched a ride with local expert Capt. Blake Rigby of Tripletail Fishing aboard the latter’s custom Empire Boatworks aluminum ­catamaran. Now in position, Noel had climbed aboard the Sea-Doo to give Williams a welcome second set of hands. Landing something as sizable as a swordfish isn’t exactly a one-man job on any boat. On the Sea-Doo, it promised to be an ever-greater challenge. In fact, Williams could find no record of it being done before. Ever. 

When the fish used its brute strength to fight back against being hooked, Williams and Noel took turns on the Check’n ­Bottom custom rod, furiously cranking the Shimano Talica 50 reel—a setup that Rigby had personally chosen—while trying to maintain their balance atop the craft. “Once I realized we were tight, my heart was racing,” Williams recalls. “We’re in a full-on battle with a swordfish coming up from the depths. I just couldn’t fathom that this was finally gonna happen.” 

Focused on the task at hand, time became a blur. Five minutes stretched into 10, then 15. Eventually the leader came to the ­surface. Unclipping the heavy sinker, one thought passed through ­Williams’ mind: This was the endgame—and he had come too far to lose what waited on the other end of the line. What’s more, swordfish are considered one of the most dangerous fish when they get close to the boat. That big slashing bill of a swordfish intent on escape can definitely inflict some serious injuries.

“My heart is pumping, and I’m breathing so hard, but I just keep cranking,” Williams says. “The footwells are completely filled with water, and it’s just insanity. At this point, we had fished into the afternoon, and the winds and waves had picked up, and we’re just cranking and cranking, praying to God that this fish stays on.” 

Ultimately, the duo got to the end of their wind-on leader, and the ghostly glow of their target species became visible—a broadbill swordfish, roughly 100 pounds, about 10 feet below the surface. Adrenaline ­spiking, ­Williams yelled for Noel to be ready with the gaff. “I started screaming to Sebastian, ‘Stick ’em, dude, stick ’em!’” Williams says. “And you know, swordfish are known to jump and do super-aggressive runs back down to the bottom, but it’s almost as if this fish had no idea what was going on. Once it hit the surface, we had a super-long gaff, and Sebastian stuck him. I grabbed another gaff, and I stuck ’em just to ensure that we had that fish.”

About that time, the fish woke up to the reality of what was ­happening. Two guys standing atop a diminutive Sea-Doo were really about to make it their next meal. And it wasn’t going down without one more fight.

Pure Chaos

At that point, it’s hard to say if the scene playing out 20 miles offshore could best be described as action-adventure or comedy. Just picture it: Two grown men, struggling for balance atop a Sea-Doo in rolling waves, both hooked into a wildly thrashing swordfish with a deadly spear for a bill, trying their best not to fall off their tiny boat or end up impaled by multiple sharp objects. All while the fish literally spun boat and crew in circles with the sheer force of its remaining strength. 

“Pure chaos,” says Fischer, who had been taking it all in from Rigby’s nearby cat. “Once that fish was on [the gaff], it was pure chaos. We were trying to get the boat into position to get the shot, but the Sea-Doo was constantly spinning and dragging from the force of the swordfish.”

“That’s when the fight really started,” Williams says. “It was just wildly thrashing its bill. We constantly had to make sure our legs were out of the way, because that fish was thrashing, literally propelling the Sea-Doo in circles nonstop.” Eventually, the fish tired and gave up the battle. Cheers went up, pictures and videos were taken, and the prize was transferred to Rigby’s boat for the ride in. For seemingly the first time ever, an angler on a PWC had brought in a swordfish.

Williams being Williams, the day didn’t end there. Of course, they stopped to take in one of the many oil rigs dotting the ­waters on the way in, and of course, he sent down a jig and got tight, eventually reeling in a little tunny (aka bonito). “It’s not the fish you’re after, but it was a beautiful day; we’re out here in the middle of nowhere off Venice, Louisiana, on the oil rigs—on a Sea-Doo,” Williams remembers.

After weighing in the sword back at the dock, the group loaded the fish back onto the PWC and went back to their houseboat, ready to clean and put some fresh swordfish steaks on ice. The moment was not lost on Noel. “This trip was unlike any other I’ve ever experienced in my 29 years fishing this planet,” says the guy whose own social media is flush with impressive catches from far-flung corners of the globe. “Catching a pelagic beast like that swordfish, on a vessel that’s half the size of some of my surfboards, in the middle of the vast and daunting Gulf of Mexico, amid overpoweringly large oil rigs dotting the horizon—it’s truly something that not many people in this world will ever get to experience. For that matter, anyone. We may have been the first people to ever do such a thing on a ­Sea-Doo. One of the coolest experiences I’ve ever been a part of on the water.” 

Dream Big

As to Williams, the future certainly holds more adventures, but for now, he’ll continue to do his job: heading offshore, catching amazing fish, and creating YouTube videos. In addition to a growing relationship with Sea-Doo, he counts Salt Life and Xtratuf fishing boots among what is certain to be a growing list of sponsors. Maybe ­someday he’ll add a boat to the mix, or host his own fishing show. But whatever comes, he says that a Sea-Doo will likely always play a dominant role. 

“I feel like it’s such a great ­alternative to have,” he says. “Like there are days when you don’t want to take out a 35-foot boat and spend hundreds of dollars on fuel, right?”

He may be a professional ­angler now, and a rising YouTube star, but down deep, you can still see that pumped-up kid on the tiny Spark, bobbing in the Atlantic. “When I was fishing on the Spark, people thought I was crazy,” he says. “Surprisingly, a lot of the captains out there, they gave me props. They would record me, put me on Instagram, put me on social media, and be like, ‘This kid is crazy.’ You know, ’cause I’m out there fishing among million-dollar boats, but on a Sea-Doo. 

“Side-by-side fishing, catching the same fish they’re catching, doing the same thing they’re doing.”

Read Next: Sea-Doo FishPro Trophy 170

Sea-Doo FishPro Trophy

While hardcore anglers have been adding ­fishing-specific features to PWCs for years, the trio of models in Sea-Doo’s FishPro series are the first craft to come well-equipped from the factory for sport fishing.

Williams’ flagship FishPro Trophy is ­highlighted by a 7-inch touchscreen Garmin GPS/fish finder, a 13.5-gallon cooler plumbed to double as a livewell, multiple rod holders, an aft saddle section that can be raised to form a pedestal fishing seat, and a trolling-specific speed-control mode. Other highlights include an advanced dual-battery system to power items such as the livewell, GPS, Bluetooth sound system, and the unit’s multifunction display; a quick-deploying grapnel anchor; a raw-water washdown; and a debris-free pump system to flush away weeds and debris.

As to the GTX hull that the FishPro Trophy is based on, it offers exceptional stability, particularly at rest. This allows anglers to stand and use the aft swim deck as a casting platform—and not get tossed overboard when fighting a fish nearly as long as the craft itself. MSRP: $20,499

The post Catching a Swordfish on a PWC appeared first on Boating Mag.

Historically, Scandinavians have been oceanic adventurers. Love of the water, sailing, and navigating open oceans is a basic element in their Nordic DNA. This is, after all, the land—and the waters—of the Vikings.  

Recently, a burgeoning class of boat hails from Nordic waters. Dubbed “adventure boats” for the ability to fish, cruise, carry ­kayaks, run in rough water, and more, an adventure boat delivers equal parts performance, entertainment, and weather protection. It serves as a seaworthy commuter and basic overnighter brimming with versatility. Distinguishing features include a long and narrow variable-V running surface, with some builders opting for twin steps. In contrast to the Viking longboat with its dramatic figurehead, most of these models adopt a straight, aka plumb, bow stem. The striking design turns heads at the marina. 

Traversing the docks at this past fall’s Fort Lauderdale International Boat Show, I counted over a dozen US and international boatbuilders offering models that ride the adventure-boat wave. For this roundup, we’re presenting you with a summary, photo, price and specs of six leading adventure boats. These are not all exactly comparable. The boats presented represent models in the same size range, as offered by the major boatbuilders in this category. 

Wellcraft 355

The Wellcraft 355 boasts a running bottom crafted by Michael Peters Yacht Design. Its shape is similar to many of the Euro adventure boats with its plumb bow and angular lines, but different in that it is based on a classic ­20-degree aft deadrise variable-V hull, sans the category’s typical twin-stepped format. With noted designer Camillo Garroni working his magic on the 355’s interior, the roomy cabin offers more cushioned comfort than most adventure boats. It features both upper and lower berthing arrangements, a stand-up head, plenty of galley and entertainment space, and sexy good looks. Convenient cockpit doors port and starboard make boarding easy at the marina, a waterside eatery or the sandbar. Triple cushioned lounges up front let your crew sunbathe in style. Wellcraft recently launched a larger adventure boat, the 435, for 2024.

Axopar 37 XC Cross Cabin

The de facto OG of this category, Axopar’s 28 won Boating’s prestigious Boat of the Year award in 2020. The 37 XC Cross Cabin is one of Axopar’s most versatile and functional ­models, and depending on how owners might accessorize it, this boat is as close to the ultimate magic-carpet ride as you can get on the water. Flexible layouts include twin or quad berthing arrangements for overnighting, and weather protection for 10 to 12 crewmembers when underway, with the ability to open up the boat and enjoy the fresh air and favorable weather on ­demand. Axopars are designed in Finland, manufactured in Poland, and enjoyed worldwide.

Nimbus W11

The Nimbus W11 features flowing Scandinavian lines and a twin-stepped, 20-degree aft deadrise running bottom that eschews the plumb bow typically found on adventure-style boats for a classic angled rake in the stem. The W11 satisfies the need for both performance on the water and social gathering for friends and family, doing it all in style and comfort. It is equally adept at hosting sunset cocktail parties at the marina as it is getting lost for the weekend at your favorite beachside getaway. The asymmetrical cabin gives it a unique look, puts the driver closer toward the centerline for increased situational awareness, and offers a wide walkway to starboard that makes it a breeze to get to the bow for anchoring or catching some rays on the huge sun pad. Notably, Nimbus recently acquired EdgeWater boats, which facilitates its ­distribution and support in North America.  

NAVAN S30/C30

Designed at Brunswick’s Boat Technology Center in Edgewater, Florida, Navan comes in two versions. The enclosed-cabin C30 suits buyers desiring more weather protection. The S30 sports an open walkaround cabin ­arrangement, with a digital dashboard courtesy of CZone that makes operation and navigation easier. Notable options include air conditioning powered by a dedicated LiFePO4 battery bank; an inverter to operate the electric grill when anchored out, or a shore-power setup for dockside; and dual sun lounges with collapsible backrests. The generous cabin includes a double berth and an enclosed head with an electric toilet and shower. With two rows of quad bench seats, you can take up to 10 people. The middle row flips over to reveal an optional Exterior Prep Center with electric grill, sink, and refrigerator drawers. It runs on a stepped bottom, and performed nicely in Mediterranean chop and swell when we ran it off France. 

Jeanneau DB/37 OB

Also available with sterndrive power, and with a hull designed by renowned naval architect Michael Peters, the DB/37 OB offers exhilarating performance. With interior design crafted by Camillo Garroni, it, like the Wellcraft, provides more finery in its creature comforts than other dayboats. The DB/37 OB offers exceptionally fluid movement on board. I found easy access to the bow sun deck via recessed side decks. At anchor, the side terraces can be deployed for even more space on board. Water access is facilitated by its roomy aft swim platform. When it’s time to sit and enjoy a bite, guests can gather around the cockpit table in the salon, enjoying an uninterrupted field of view, open to the scenery and the horizon. If you like the concept but need something larger, the DB/43 OB will take you to the next level.   

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Saxdor Yachts 400 GTO

The Saxdor 400 GTO offers plenty of weather protection for a large crew for a day out on the water. What separates this Saxdor model from the pack is a unique pair of electro-hydraulic “wings” that convert the vertical inwale ­cockpit and aft cabin coamings into a completely ­horizontal entertainment platform, effectively increasing the boat’s usable cockpit beam by almost 6 feet. It’s like creating your own island in the middle of nowhere. The helm area can be enclosed to offer protection from the elements when the weather turns, and down below, it offers a private stateroom, enclosed head, kids’ sleeping area, plus an upper twin berth. Rigged with a pair of 400 hp Mercury V-10 ­Verados, the Saxdor 400 GTO hits 50 knots.  

The post Six Boats Built for Adventure appeared first on Boating Mag.

You might own a center-console, bowrider or pontoon boat. But that doesn’t mean you can’t spend a night, or even a weekend, aboard your boat from time to time. Simply anchoring out close to home port somewhere can prove to be a fun adventure. Check out these tips gleaned from my own experience sleeping aboard open boats.

Nature’s Call

Many open boats offer an enclosed head. Many do not. If your boat is the latter, one option is to purchase a portable marine toilet (more on this later). Another option is to anchor or beach near ­public parkland where facilities are a wade away. In a wilderness ­boating area, go ashore and ­answer nature’s call according to the best practices of hikers and backpackers.

Food

I often plan to catch some of what we’ll eat while camping aboard my 20-footer. Still, it’s good to bring enough meals, snacks and beverages for the duration. I suggest preparing in advance many items to make cooking and cleanup easier and to reduce trash. Pre-scramble eggs and bring them aboard in ­Tupperware, for instance, or trim and season meats at home before stowing in ­zippered ­plastic bags. Parboil chicken. Chili, soups or stews brought in a thermos make for low-fuss meals. Apply similar thinking to your menu.

Cooking

Propane boat grills (use only charcoal grills ashore) are available. These ­offer a variety of mounting options. I also bring along a one-burner propane camping stove that I set up on a cutting board that fits in a rod holder. (Other ­tables and mounts are available from makers such as Magma.) This is great for making coffee or frying fish, for ­example. The table or cutting board also gets used for food prep.

Bathing

Many small, open boats feature transom showers. For those that don’t, ­collapsible jugs of water from home should be brought aboard for ­washing. These can be left in the sun to warm up. Of course, ­purpose-made “sun showers” are available from marine and camping-supply retailers such as Camping World. (I use a dedicated garden sprayer.) As stated above, anchoring near a park may allow you access to land-based showers.

Sleeping

Your pontoon or dual-console might be equipped with a “camper ­canvas” and ­provide protection from the elements. If not, small, internal-frame tents will often fit in the bow or aft cockpit of an open boat. One of these can also provide the privacy for “enclosing” the portable toilet. Tent or enclosure or not, remember that uncovered items—including people—are likely to be dew-soaked by morning. So, rig a tarp of some sort, even in fair weather.

Trash

Apply “leave no trace” principles to your open-boat cruising. Bring home what you brought out. On one hand, try to minimize trash by buying bulk packaging of snacks, bringing food in reusable containers, and planning one-plate meals. But strike a balance. For instance, wiping off plates and pans with paper towels before washing creates more trash, but it allows carrying out most of the grease generated rather than having it end up in the bay or lake.

Read Next: Boat Camping Adventure

Shade

You will want some shade from the sun. Many boats have canvas such as a Bimini top. Additional shade can be had by sticking a beach umbrella or golf umbrella in a rod holder (lash it down with cords as well). Editor Kevin Falvey sewed up a ­simple shade out of Sunbrella fabric, which covers the bow of his boat, affixed to the rails with bungee cords. In any case, don’t discount the value of shade for when you are staying aboard.

The post How to Cruise Aboard Open Boats appeared first on Boating Mag.

Boat owners get to see the world in different ways compared to those without a boat. This should come as no surprise, since the change in point of view occurs, and is evident, immediately.

Step aboard and the boat gives way under your weight. Slip the lines and head out and you begin moving in multiple dimensions:up, down, sideways…in multiple directions simultaneously. A boat in the water is always moving.

Such incessant motion might cause panic on land. But aboard a boat, it signals that we have left our natural element. There are different rules on the water and so we must think of things in different ways. Stopping takes more time and advance planning. Changing direction and we change the amount of movement we will experience and may even get a face full of the element we ply upon! Speed up or slow down and our experience of being in the same place changes again

Albert Einstein, and later, other physicists, put forth in the special theory of relativity that an observer’s position can change an event. Is it coincidence that Einstein grew up aboard boats and remained a boatmen for his entire life? I like to think not.

The physical changes wrought by boating prove healthy, working our minds and bodies in ways different than when we stay ashore. But, other things change too. How we feel and think about things

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For example in the accompanying photo, we can see a dock, a bird, a boat, a boatyard a marina, a rising moon… Boaters and the land-bound see the same things. But, as a boater, I see that it’s an exceptionally high tide, since the dock is covered in water. I think about heading out with extra caution as big tides tend to set adrift all kinds of flotsam that’s normally too high on shore for the water to reach. The full moon will give me some solace in this regard though, because as a boater, I know that a full moon provides plenty of light on the water. And, I know I’d have to face stronger currents when such a tide ebbs.

Further still, pleasant thoughts and strong emotions well-up as if synched to the tide, and memories of countless moonlit trips flood the creeks, and sloughs and bays of my self.

What do you see? How does boating affect your point of view? Let me know in the comments below.

The post Boat Owners See Things Differently appeared first on Boating Mag.

Tommy and Tina Osborne had been boaters for decades when they finally decided to take on the famous Great Loop, also known as the Great Circle Route, a 6,000-mile journey that they started from their home in Tellico Village, Tennessee. They spent a year on the water, venturing down the Mississippi River, through the Gulf of Mexico, up the Atlantic Coast and through the Great Lakes and back down before arriving back home to Tellico. We asked them about their adventure.

What first inspired you to try the entire Great Loop?

Being a boat owner since I was 15, I always dreamed of traveling the rivers of America as Tom Sawyer did. Moved the boat to the Tennessee River in 2006 from the landlocked Cumberland Lake in Kentucky. Now the boat was on navigable waters and open to the Gulf of Mexico and beyond.

What made you finally decide to go for it after thinking about it for so many years?

Family events, passing at young ages, and realizing how short our time can be. Retirement in July of 2021, the support of a bride with a sense of adventure were all drivers to get moving. Tina was packing supplies for our boat one day and I commented on the large volume of these supplies. She said we are going on a boat trip. I’m thinking about a few weeks as we had done in the past. She said no, you have talked about “The Loop” for a long time; now’s the time. So off we went in October of 2021—with not much experience.

Aboard what kind of boat did you make the journey?

Our 2004 Sea Ray 450 Express Bridge.

Did the trip require detailed planning or could you leave room for spontaneity?

Good question. Over the years I had planned The Great Loop journey. Tina called me the Spreadsheet King. I planned where we would go, what time of year we would be in this or that location, even where we would stop for fuel. By the time we had gotten to Mobile Bay in November less than two months into the trip, we trashed “The Plan.” The rest of the trip was very spontaneous. Always being mindful of the seasons and weather conditions. Winter in the south, summer in the north. Example: We had planned to go to the Florida Keys when leaving Knoxville, and decided to go to the Bahamas instead. Never thought about Washington DC, and decided as we sailed up the Atlantic coast. Talking to other Loopers, AGLCA group and local folks drove a great deal of spontaneity.

Is there any particular stretch of water or experience that stands out?

We get asked this question often and it is a challenge to answer. Every stretch of water has its beauty and uniqueness—rivers and the locks, coastal waters with tides, sea turtles and watching feeding dolphins. Large exposed open waters of the Gulf, Atlantic, and The Great Lakes all stand out, as well as the people you meet and their willingness to help. Although we had a great relationship before we left, it has grown stronger as we journeyed by depending and counting on each other.

How long have you both been boaters?

I (Tommy) have been for 50-plus years. Tina has been around sailboats and schooners for many years that other people owned. Really on her own boat for the last 10 years.

Read Next: On Board With: Capt. Sergio Davi

How much boating experience do you think the trip requires?

More importantly, the type of boating experience. If all your boating has been on protected lakes or all on tidal waters, or all in oceans you may not be ready for other types of waters. We met people that had never owned a boat, hired a captain for a few months and did just fine on The Loop. We saw “experienced” boaters hit rocks or get grounded due to not understanding the type of waters they were on. Not knowing what you don’t know can cause heartbreak regardless of years of boating.

Anything you wish you knew before you started?

Understanding the importance of an anchor bridal in tidal waters. How to secure to a mooring ball, or how to plan for the unexpected, like your galley sink falling out.

From start to finish, how long did the adventure take you?

364 days.

Would you do it again?

Yes! You can do the Loop multiple times and still have a different adventure.

How do you normally like to boat? What’s your typical weekend like at Tellico?

Friends all around on anchor rafting off together. Spending weekdays on the water with fewer boats. We enjoy fishing, swimming, exploring, seeing the sunrise, sunset and watching the skies at night.

The post On Board With: Tom and Tina Osborne, Great Loopers appeared first on Boating Mag.

Capt. Sergio Davi loves to cruise the open ocean aboard Rigid Inflatable Boats (RIBs)—and we mean open ocean. The 57-year-old Italian native has captained a variety of RIBs powered by his sponsor, Suzuki outboards, traveling from his home base in Palermo to Amsterdam (3,000 nautical miles), North Cape (4,000 miles), New York (7,000 nautical miles through dangerous Arctic waters), and Recife Brazil, roughly 6,000 nautical miles. Boating caught up with Davi on the final leg of his recent and most ambitious excursion—a 10,000-nautical-mile run from Palermo to Los Angeles, California, encompassing two oceans, four continents and more than a dozen countries on stops along the way. We joined Davi aboard his latest rig, a 38-foot Nuova Jolly RIB with twin Suzuki DF300B dual-prop outboards, aptly named Aretusa Explorer.

How did you get into boats and boating?

My father had a boat, so I’ve loved boating all my life. I had my own boat at four years old, which I would take only 5 or 6 meters from the shore where the water was calm and shallow. I appreciated the peace of the sea at an early age.

Why do you use RIBs for all your adventures?

I think of RIBs like a Jeep in the desert; they are very safe boats for tackling challenging conditions. Plus, my passion for RIBs began in my youth. I owned my first RIB when I was only 17.

People call you a thrill-seeker, adventurer or environmentalist. How would you describe yourself?

I am a boating enthusiast at heart, and a very curious person who simply wants to discover new things with an atypical vessel such as a RIB. I am also very attentive to the environment, but in a realistic way. I’m aware that environmental protection and safeguards require adequate time in order deliver a better world for the next generation. (Davi partners with several Italian environmental organizations, collecting water samples and data from remote locations during his voyages.)

What is the most dangerous situation you’ve encountered during a voyage?

When I crossed Greenland I was afraid of the ice, because the ice sheets were huge, and I was afraid of doing damage to the motors. These are not conditions one normally encounters in a small outboard-powered boat. On this most recent trip, I was approached by pirates at night off the coast of Venezuela. Fortunately, I was able to recognize the danger, punch the throttles on my twin 300s and say “ciao” to them rather quickly.

What was the biggest challenge you faced during your just-completed ocean-to-ocean voyage?

Planning and organizing a trip like this during a global pandemic was very difficult, and at times even demoralizing. Persevering through this, however, game me the strength to continue the voyage. There were also several lengthy delays to bad weather (Davi also had a personal bout with Covid-19 during the voyage).

Read Next: More On Board With Profiles

What’s next? Are you planning any future adventures right now?

Of course, I’m thinking about what my next adventure might be. But I am also thinking of different things I could do that can help us better understand the ocean environment and recapture humanity’s love for the sea.

The post On Board With: Capt. Sergio Davi appeared first on Boating Mag.

We approached the glacier with caution. The water was littered with growlers—floating chunks of blue-white ice, some the size of a 150-quart cooler. We steered around the largest and heard smaller pieces of ice bump the boat and then scrape harmlessly alongside the hull as we made way at idle speed. The air temperature grew cooler, and the water became milky in the outflow of the glacier, which, still a mile away, already appeared indescribably massive.

Our guide pointed out dozens of harbor seals sunning on growlers, perfectly comfortable and sound asleep with their backs on the ice. To port loomed a much bigger piece of ice, perhaps the size of an F-150 pickup truck. Maybe inspired by the seals, a crazy notion popped into my head. Here was my chance, perhaps the only opportunity in my lifetime, to stand on an iceberg. Many people fly to Alaska and see eagles soaring, catch a 100-pound halibut, or even spot a brown bear loping across the tundra. But how many are lucky enough—or dumb enough—to stand on top of an iceberg?

When I asked Capt. Tom Werth if he would maneuver me over to the ’berg, he just laughed and turned the wheel to begin our approach. In any other boat, climbing down onto the iceberg would be a tricky deal. But we were aboard Wango Bango, Werth’s custom aluminum adventure boat, which features a landing-craft-style bow ramp. When we got about 10 feet away from the iceberg, Werth lowered the ramp and edged close enough that I could simply step off the boat and onto the ice, then strike a gallant photo pose while my family shook their collective heads.

Werth did not order this boat with a bow ramp so he could deposit his Uncle Charles onto an iceberg. But when you have a rugged, welded-aluminum boat with a ramp, no adventure seems out of reach.

Born to Adventure

My sister’s oldest son, Werth is an Alaska native who grew up on the Kenai Peninsula and has long been attracted to the water. The family always had boats, one set up for fishing Cook Inlet, and another with a flat bottom for hunting trips down the Yukon River. While still in high school, Werth started working as a hand on a fishing charter boat out of Seward. He earned an OUPV (six-pack) captain’s license, and then captained a fishing charter out of Ninilchik for four summers, spent two more fishing out of Seward, and another as captain of a water taxi in Whittier. In between, he earned an engineering degree at Montana State University and started training to become a backcountry guide. A couple of years ago, he moved back to Alaska to do the “real job” thing with a gas utility in Anchorage, and continues to chase adventure mountain biking and backcountry skiing in the Chugach Range, often in the company of his adventurous fiancée, Molly Swartz. The first leg of these ski trips is made by snow machine from Turnagain Pass, but more backcountry could be accessible if an approach were made from the eastern Prince William Sound side of the range. This would require putting the snow machine on a boat—a boat with a ramp on the bow. If the boat could tote a snow machine, it could also put an ATV ashore during deer-hunting season, or a crew of friends ashore for a weekend camping trip. With the notion of turning Prince William Sound into his year-round playground, Werth started imaging the perfect multimission boat for that water.

The Fabricator

The man building just such a boat, Delbert Henry, is curiously far away from the ocean in Palmer, Alaska, northeast of Anchorage in the Matanuska-Susitna Valley. A Montana native, Henry founded Hylite Fabrication in 2009 as a welding specialty outfit; in 2011, he engaged in a joint venture to build Peregrine Falcon Alaska, a 90-by-24-foot aluminum landing-craft-style research boat. This high-profile project established Hylite’s fine reputation, and more boatbuilding work came its way. Henry has built a number of 35-foot bow-pickers and also commercial boats with landing-craft bow ramps. New customers liked the look of these boats and commissioned pleasure versions. He’s finished 10 to date, ranging in length from about 34 to 42 feet.

During his time on the Alaskan waterfront, Werth studied a wide variety of boats, cataloging features he might incorporate into a craft of his own one day. A co-worker introduced him to Hylite in 2019. Henry wanted to build a smaller, more affordable version of his landing-craft pleasure models—the last well-equipped 34-foot example cost about $275,000—and proposed to Werth a 27-foot-length-overall build (24-foot hull length) that he could retail for about $160,000.

“This is a real Prince William Sound boat,” Henry says. “It’s designed to be rugged and stable, with an enclosed house and the ramp on the bow. The water there can get choppy, but big waves or swells are unlikely, so we can build it with shallow deadrise for minimal draft. In many places, he can nose this boat right up to shore and drop the ramp on dry land.”

The boat has 12 degrees of transom deadrise and 6-inch reverse chines for enhanced stability. Fuel capacity is 200 gallons, and the boat’s weight distribution is shifted aft so that it will rest on the desired waterline with a heavy load in the open bow. A set of Zipwake 300S interceptor-type trim tabs can bring the bow down if the load is light. The forward deck is 11 feet, 6 inches long and 8 feet, 6 inches wide. The house is 7 feet, 6 inches long by 8 feet, 2 inches wide, with 6 feet, 2 inches of headroom. The helm is to starboard, with a counter and cabinets abaft. To port is a bench seat with a pivoting backrest and a dinette that converts to a berth. Bulky gear is stowed through a deck hatch to the bilge. The entire house is surrounded by windows, making it very bright. The West Coast windshield affords excellent forward visibility and quickly sheds water. The interior is finished with durable speckled Zolatone paint and powder-coated gray.

At the stern is a back porch about 5 feet, 6 inches deep covered by the extended house roof and fitted with a table with a folding top. With a portable stove on the table, this is the galley. A ladder to port provides access to the house roof, which is surrounded by a low rail, rod holders, tie-downs for an inflatable dinghy, and a low radar arch.

The ramp raises and lowers with cables connected to a -hand-crank winch. An extended anchor roller is welded to the starboard gunwale. Decking throughout is aluminum diamond plate. Werth chose not to spec a head or a formal galley to save space and expenses, and  keep the boat simple to maintain. When guests are along, everyone usually camps on shore.

Wango Bango is built like a workboat. The bottom is ¼-inch-thick-plate 5086 alloy. Hullsides are 3/16-inch stock, and the house is 1/8 inch. The transom is solid ½-inch aluminum and can accommodate single or twin outboards. Cross members and stringers are aluminum extrusions. Henry normally builds this type of boat with a forward crash bulkhead and sealed forward compartments; if a sharp impact ruptures the hull, the boat will remain afloat. Werth had a hatch placed in the center of the forward deck, so it’s sealed well but not airtight. Turns out, he’s never used that compartment for stowage and now would prefer a fish box in the deck. The foredeck drains overboard through side scuppers.

In the Hylite shop, this boat’s project name was 401K because Werth’s retirement fund paid for much of it. At 31, he has plenty of time to start over. But his budget was tight. To that end, the boat is powered by a 2007 Suzuki DF250 outboard, which provides adequate power and was reliable during the boat’s first season in 2021. Werth stores the boat on a $6,500 custom Hi-Tech Marine trailer shipped up from Panama City, Florida.

A Glacial Place

A day on the water aboard Wango Bango was the highlight of our family trip to Alaska last summer. Werth and Swartz picked us up at the Whittier dock, and we motored out of the inlet and headed north into the open water of Port Wells. Our first stop was the marker for shrimp pots that Werth and Swartz had dropped the night before. Werth deployed a portable electric winch to the port gunwale to pull up the pots, which were 600 feet down. The pots were filled with shrimp as big as my hand. Next, we navigated into Barry Arm, where we began to encounter the growlers, a raft of dozens of sea otters, and the sleeping seals. Werth approached to within a half-mile of Coxe Glacier and killed the engine.

“We’ll watch for a bit and see if anything happens,” he said.

We could hear the glacier occasionally crack and groan, and suddenly kaboom! The glacier calved right before our eyes, a huge piece falling into the water just like on NatGeo. We’d only waited for five minutes.

“Right on time,” Werth said. What a great guide. He put us ashore to explore around the rubble at the base of the receding glacier, and we could scramble right to the edge of the ice. A Coleman stove on the aft table boiled up the fresh shrimp for lunch, after which we picked our way back through the growlers, into Port Wells and the waypoint Werth had marked the day before when a pair of 85-pound halibut were hauled aboard Wango Bango. Our luck, unfortunately, was not as good.

I was allowed to take the wheel on the run back to Whittier. The ride was stiff into a crisp afternoon chop, the compromise for shallow draft and stability. But the boat runs true on course and is plenty agile. Back at Whittier, our adventure was over. But it seems clear for Werth and Swartz, who will be married this summer, that the adventure is just beginning.

Read Next: Trailer Boating in Alaska

All About Prince William Sound

The northernmost reach of the Gulf of Alaska, Prince William Sound is surrounded by steep snowcapped mountains of the Chugach National Forest and deep fjords still holding blue glacial ice. The land around the sound is mostly wilderness, save for the fishing village of Cordova to the east, the oil port of Valdez to the north, and the historic port town of Whittier to the west. The area has survived the 1964 Good Friday earthquake and resulting tsunami, and the 1989 Exxon Valdez oil spill, which fouled the water and shoreline with crude and devastated wildlife. Whittier, a popular put-in point for boaters from Anchorage, is accessible by a one-lane toll road through a railroad tunnel.

The post An Aluminum Boat Adventure in Alaska appeared first on Boating Mag.

When it comes to water, the state of Florida is many things: swampy marsh with suspicious-looking gators, crystal-clear springs occupied by curious manatees, wide-open lakes with boundless potential, the busy Intracoastal Waterway and much more. The idea behind the North Florida Loop was to see as much of that diversity as possible, all while aboard two wakeboarding boats—a Malibu 23 LSV belonging to pro rider Brian Grubb, and a MasterCraft -X-Star belonging to the legendary Parks Bonifay. Our five-day itinerary called for us to run north up Florida’s St. Johns River, wrap through downtown Jacksonville, and hook south down through the saltwater ICW to Cape Canaveral. Basically, a 400-mile journey with no real need to set foot on dry land. In other words, a boater’s dream.

The early-summer air was perfectly still as we slow-motored along the cypress-covered shorelines of the St. Johns. Pro wakeboarder Massi Piffaretti was casting frog lures from the back of the X-Star, rider-turned-videographer Erik Ruck was prepping lunch for the crew on board the Malibu, I was bird-watching with my binocs, and photographer Bryan “the Golden Bear” Soderlind was reciting interesting historical tidbits he’d picked up online while researching the dignified old river. Even though we’d only just rounded the corner from the boat ramp from which we’d just launched, we were already fully immersed in the vibe of our journey. Time was no longer a concern, so everything began to move at a more leisurely pace than real life, and the boundless nature of being on the water made every friendly boater who waved as they passed by us our neighbors. We were river people now.

A short distance from where we’d started, the no-wake zones loosened up, and we were free to run. Being a bunch of wake-riding pros who’d spent the past two decades jumping, carving, surfing and skating boat wakes together, we got right into what we love most about being on the water. Appropriately enough, Bonifay hopped in first and inspired all of us with his creativity and fun-loving ways. He even got the two boats running close together to create a spine with the wakes, which motivated the rest of us to get in on the action. We took turns riding, and with each new rider, the excitement ticked up a notch. Snaking (or “gatoring”) our way along the winding river, we knew we were in for something special during the next handful of days.

As the intimacy of the narrow river opened up to a huge, wide lake that we could barely see across, we could suddenly hear the sirens in the distance, luring us off course with a sweet song of crystal-clear water coolly flowing nearby. A brief reprieve from the midday Florida heat was too much to resist, so we veered west into a magic little cove called Silver Glen. Brown water full of snakes and gators quickly warped into a clear-blue potion full of manatees and silverfish. It became obvious why the conquistadors thought they’d stumbled upon the Fountain of Youth. We swam around the bowl-shaped headsprings—millions of gin-clear gallons of cold water pumping out of a crack in the earth—and then got out the toys. Grubb had brought two Lift eFoils, battery-powered, self-propelled hydrofoil boards. Using the wing to reduce drag and elevate the rider off the water, they can silently carve through over 20 miles of water before needing a recharge. We all took turns riding the eFoil magic carpets, flying patterns around each other as we got better, and continued to dive around in the springs until it was finally time to go. We’d located a riverside lodge just a little bit farther north, but there was just enough glowing yellow daylight left for Piffaretti to take one more wakeboard session.

With all of our batteries fully charged the next morning, we were primed and ready to resume our journey north. The previously wild and pristine river was now becoming more populated, the shoreline morphing into the classic small-town feeling of north Florida. Places with names like Palatka, Deep Creek and Astor featured riverfront houses on every point of the socioeconomic spectrum, seafood restaurants offered to deep-fry everything that could be found under their docks, and more one-of-a-kind north Florida lodging was right at the water’s edge. Our photogenic backdrops were now peppered with houseboats, wooden train trestles, Air Force bases and nuclear power plants. In a wider, branching part of the river, nearly in sight of our next major destination, we came across an 80-foot river yacht, half-sunken and jutting out of the mud near the trees. Utterly torn apart, it appeared to be a hurricane refugee that got caught out in the open and spent the next 10 years weathering down even more. We tipped our hats in sympathy to its derelict plight, and then happily waxed the portside bow so that Bonifay could board-slide the beautifully upturned gunwale, since such a spectacular opportunity rarely presents itself to those inclined to take it. Bonifay took the incline spectacularly, doing the setup such justice that even the ship’s original owner might’ve watched the session without shedding a single tear.

A few turns of the river later, the bait shacks and bullfrog croaks to which we’d grown accustomed quickly turned into high-rises and car horns—an all-out assault on the senses as we entered the bustling center of downtown Jacksonville, one of Florida’s largest and busiest cities. Grubb invited me for a doubles session, wakesurfing behind the Malibu on our (nonpowered) hydrofoil boards, right through the heart of downtown Jax. Somewhere, 40 stories over the water, in one of the many bank-stamped skyscrapers above us, an overworked number-cruncher probably glanced up from his calculator and TPS reports just in time to watch me and Grubb fly by on our foils, ropelessly hopping from one boat wake to another, dropping back to the third roller, and soul-carving past his building toward the shipping port laden with giant cargo ships and foreshadowing, without even once looking back. We’d gone from the remoteness of swampy, cypress-laden riverways to the hustle and bustle of 9-to-5 urban life, but we were still grinning from ear to ear.

Passing through Jacksonville brought other changes to the journey: dolphins rolling through the wakes of seafaring outriggers, and a very different water texture as we skirted the sandy shores of Huguenot. We were no longer floating on the St. Johns River; we were now motoring down Florida’s Intracoastal Waterway, which meant the North Florida Loop had made its southbound turn. Although happy to return to my native salt water, I was grateful the St. Johns had so warmly taken us in.

If any other part of the trip had felt like a step back in time, it paled in comparison to what came next. After a marina breakfast, we anchored abeam one of the oldest buildings in America: the Castillo de San Marcos in St. Augustine. A Spanish fortress from the 1600s, the castle has endured attacks from pirates, sieges by British colonial forces, and a Confederate takeover, yet it stands firm in the year 2020, though no longer under control of the Spanish crown or the Confederacy. With a bit more reverence and distance than we’d given that poor river yacht back on the St. Johns, we glided around the emerald green waters of the Castillo de San Marcos on our eFoils in the beautiful morning light, carving through centuries of imperialism and strife with our silent hoverboards, while the pelicans above matched our turns with thoughtful dispositions. Bonifay was on the back of his X-Star, strumming a tune on his guitar, and Bear was tempting me to hand off the eFoil by waving a mason jar full of fresh-pressed juice. A fair deal. The peaceful day took a sharp turn when period-accurate subtenientes de fusileros approached the cannons on the terreplein and began loading them. We skedaddled southbound, taking a quick detour out the inlet to catch a quick peek of the open ocean before looping back to the calm waters of the ICW.

We happily cruised southward, enjoying glassy water and sunshine all the way until Ormond Beach, where a dark squall line stretched from east to west, threatening to derail the day. With only minutes to prepare, we hunkered down under a bridge. Through gale-force winds and a blinding deluge of rain, we endured the truth of summertime in Florida before suddenly emerging back into sunshine. The trip wouldn’t have been complete without at least one thunderstorm sending us scrambling.

Following Mother Nature’s brief delay, we made berth at Indian Mound Fish Camp a little bit south. With the slightly cooler temps, we made a little campfire out front, cooked dinner, and sparked up the best jam session of the trip, with Bonifay on his carbon-fiber guitar and vocals, Ruck on my half-size six string, and yours truly backing them up with the fiddle. We jammed in the moonlight until our campfire was low-glowing embers. Continuing south in the morning, our vista opened up to the familiar Mosquito Lagoon, an indicator that we were nearing the end of the road. I took the opportunity to enjoy a proper wakeskate session behind the boat, since I’d mostly been fooling around with hydrofoils for the past few days. Clad in my favorite Hawaiian shirt and lucky shoes, I jumped off the back of the boat right into that same joy that made me fall in love with watersports from the very start. I don’t think the smile left my face for the entire session. With the final boat ramp in sight, we diverted to a small island in the lagoon to soak up the sweet final hour of our epic adventure together. Climbing around on the half-submerged trees, taking group photos in the sand, and getting one last ride on the eFoils, we all agreed that the road trip by boat had just become a new tradition for us to indulge in for many, many years to come.

The post Cruising Aboard A Wake Boat appeared first on Boating Mag.

Within 15 minutes of launching an Aspen L107 into the muddy Mackenzie River, we almost ran aground—twice. Perhaps we should have heeded the cautions in the Sailing Directions, which warned the river should only be navigated by those with extensive local knowledge, something neither of us had. As we kept the bow of the boat pointed north, we realized we’d be navigating waters even more challenging.

Over the years, Larry Graf, the owner of Aspen Power Catamarans, and I have shared many adventures, but when he came up with the idea of traveling the length of Canada’s Mackenzie River, I thought he was off-the-scale crazy. As planning progressed and the questions piled up, I realized this would be an epic journey—if we survived it—and I couldn’t miss the opportunity.

Traveling down a dangerously shallow, 1,200-mile, poorly charted river in one of the planet’s most remote regions presents a unique set of preparation and navigation challenges. But we were out to prove that, with the right boat and the right crew, it could still be fun.

River Runs

The Mackenzie is the longest river in Canada, and second only to the Mississippi in North America. It flows north through the Northwest Territories from Great Slave Lake to the Beaufort Sea some 200 miles above the Arctic Circle, and ranges from just over 100 yards to 4 miles in width. The river freezes from October to May. It is murky, silty, and only navigable by vessels with a draft of 4 feet or less. Traffic is sparse—each summer, only a few tugs pushing supply barges and a handful of adventurous paddlers brave the river. The few small, isolated Dené and Inuvialuit native villages are typically 150 or more miles apart, mostly with no road access. In between are stretches of wilderness with more bears, caribou and muskox than humans. Anyone getting into trouble can’t rely on outside help.

The idea was to tow the boat, appropriately named Arctic Adventure, 1,200 miles from Burlington, Washington, through Canada to Great Slave Lake. We’d launch just after ice-off in July, say our prayers to the river gods, and hopefully make it to the mouth of the Mackenzie in eight or 10 days, stopping only to refuel and sleep.

Cat On the Run

Graf builds full-displacement power catamarans to 40 feet, with top speeds of 30 knots. They’re unique in that they are asymmetrical, with one sponson 35 percent narrower than the other. This slim profile requires less propulsion (and therefore less fuel) when compared to a regular catamaran—and 50 to 60 percent less than a similar-size planing monohull. I had reviewed several Aspens over the years and found them to be exceptionally stable, with an incredibly soft ride and amazing fuel efficiency (more than 3 miles per gallon at 16 knots).

Standard power for Aspens is a single diesel inboard in the larger starboard hull. Recently, though, Larry re-engineered his 32-foot model for twin outboards on pods—a 200 hp Yamaha on the starboard hull and a 70 hp Yamaha on the port. (Boating’s review of this boat, a Boat of the Year finalist, is available here.) Graf also decided to build an open version of the 34 with a center console. With a draft of 31 inches (21 with outboards at half tilt), the 34 would be ideal for the shallow Mackenzie. Its range, with a fuel capacity of 170 gallons plus 10 5-gallon cans, would be about 350 miles, with reserve. The jerry cans would be essential because we were uncertain where we could find fuel.

Apsen’s open model required a number of modifications to allow us to live aboard. Graf created a clever galley/dining module fitted aft of the two helm seats. It included a foldout teak table, teak drawers, two swing-out stools, a sink, fridge, and cutout for a portable stove.

A step-down head compartment was built into the port (narrower) hull and accessed via a hinged set of steps. Two single settees forward of the helm doubled as our berths, while a low-slung canvas bow cover would keep us dry and protected from bugs and adverse weather.

We were warned about hordes of huge horseflies, mosquitoes and no-see-ums, so we added mosquito net sewn to fit under the Bimini to cover the console and dining area. We were also warned about grizzly, black and polar bears, so a set of high plastic boards with staple rails was fitted to the boat’s swim platform.

We knew we would risk running aground, so Graf included equipment for kedging/winching us off. One strategy would be to inflate the dinghy under the tunnel to help lift us off the bottom and, if we were holed, to place inflatable fenders under the hulls so the boat could be rolled ashore for hull repairs below the waterline. We also had a full set of spares for every system aboard, including six props and a gear case for the big outboard. Together, the spares and safety equipment added more than a ton of weight. But we were ready to answer the call of the wild.

Onward and Northward

Soon after launching on July 2, we realized we had entered an unknown world. We motored past low-lying, tree-lined shoreline day after day along this vast silty waterway, averaging a speed of about 23 mph.

With no electronic charts available for this river, we had to rely on paper charts, which is normally not a problem, but in this case, it involved some significant risks. One was that the river had not been surveyed since the 1990s, and ice and relentless siltation transforms the depths and navigable channels significantly from year to year. Each year, the Mackenzie’s 700 or so unnumbered can buoys are removed before ice-up, then each spring, the Canadian coast guard must determine the deepest new channels and place them (and range markers) accordingly, then the agency must constantly reposition those buoys dragged out off-kilter by the strong currents and debris. Regardless, we trimmed our 26 paper charts and taped them together, then mounted them on rollers inside a custom-made box so we could scroll through them.

We still needed some form of electronic aid that would allow us to lay down a GPS track on a plotter. The only available options were land-based topographic maps. After much research, we acquired Garmin’s “Topo Canada, Northwest” chart chip. It was produced about 10 years ago, and it did not show depths, just an approximate outline of the shore.

Navigation proved exponentially more challenging than we had imagined. We soon discovered that many of the topo chip’s charted islands were no longer there, and numerous new islands had appeared. Spotting the red and green cans was a real trial. They were often miles apart. Many were half-submerged and throwing frothy wakes from currents that run up to 9 knots. Some sections were not buoyed or completely different than the charted channel. On the plus side, shoreside range markers made navigation slightly safer.

Still, we enjoyed some sections of spectacular scenery, including towering, craggy mountains and steep bluffs. Mostly, however, there was just the flat, marshy, brushy terrain of the boreal forest for endless miles. Where there were no buoys, we were forced to guess the deepest route. We had to back out of shoal water dozens of times, our mouths dry and hearts beating fast. The shallow-water alarm was constantly screaming, and when the depth shallowed to 3 or 4 feet, we’d quickly back up and hunt for deeper water.

On day six, we were in the midst of searching out a path through one of those super-shallow, missing-buoys sections when we crossed a major landmark, the Arctic Circle, at latitude 66 degrees, 33 minutes north. Other than some smiles, shouts of joy, high-fives and a selfie in front of the chart plotter, there was no other milestone on the river.

We stopped at several tiny Dené villages, where curious locals with pickup trucks generously helped us lug our jerry cans. Most of the water and air-access-only villages have populations between 100 and 500, and jobs are few and far between. Each village has its own electrical generating station, a band office, a scattering of houses, a single Northern Store (a holdover from the fur-trading days) and, surprisingly, excellent internet service. Larger centers such as Fort Providence, Norman Wells and Inuvik were more like regular small communities with populations from about 700 to 4,000.

Due to the annual freeze-up and changing river levels, there are no permanent docks on the river. Instead, a gravel road typically leads down to a beach where the locals drag ashore their tin boats, primarily used for subsistence fishing and hunting. When beaching, we’d nose up to the beach, then deploy our telescoping bow ladder and carry an anchor ashore. However, with currents typically running parallel to the beach, it was not the most comfortable situation.

Every evening, we’d search out some form of shelter from the relentless current—a slough where we could anchor parallel to shore or, in some cases, tuck into a river mouth—then set the hook and have a drink and dinner. We bought only prepackaged and canned food because we didn’t want the smell of cooking to attract bears. Even with bugs and bear worries, evenings were the only time we could let down our guard. Because we were in the far North, the sun never really set.

Underway, we spent half the days facing a 30-plus mph headwind. When underway at 23 mph, the combined wind speed forced us into our heaviest foul-weather gear, wool hats and gloves. However, when stopped for fuel or for the night, the temperatures were in the 60- to 70-degree range, though we still used the diesel-forced air heater in our canvas shelter most nights.

Surprisingly, we saw a bear only once. But the predators were there. Shortly after our trip, we heard that a canoeist had been mauled to death by a grizzly.

Stretch Run

On day seven, when we finally reached Inuvik, leaving a 90-mile push to the mouth of the Mackenzie, we were told the route was not yet buoyed. Thankfully, a local tour operator offered us a screenshot marked with his route to the ocean. The next morning, we set out. We again came dangerously close to running aground several times. Fortunately, at about 1 p.m., we poked our nose into the Beaufort Sea and breathed massive sighs of relief. After seven hair-raising days, we’d made it. Despite having arrived at our destination, we were still surrounded by the same murky brown water, but now the horizon stretched into infinity. Behind us were the low-lying, treeless islands of the delta. (No trees grow this far north.) Somewhere just over the horizon, the annual beluga whale hunt was taking place, and we knew polar bears were wandering the tundra. But in that moment, there were only us, the boat, the gentle slap of waves on the hull and nothing else in the world.

The Aspen and its outboards performed flawlessly, and nothing on board broke. Despite the added weight, we averaged about 2.5 miles per gallon, mostly at about 15 to 20 knots. In the end, I couldn’t imagine a vessel more suited to this unique challenge.

Fortunately, Graf and I are both skilled navigators. Without both of our vigilance and efforts to keep on track, the trip could easily have turned into a disaster. But we made it, and it was a truly unforgettable experience.

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