HOW TO BUILD A BETTER BOATER

LOOKING TO GET STARTED ON THE WATER? OUR MAN SHOWS YOU THE PATH TO BOATING WISDOM.

New to the sport? Follow these steps to become an educated, wise old salt in no time.

There I was, failing, at work, about work.

The quiz at the end of Module 2 of the US Power Squadrons boating course was not going well. I had incorrectly identified the location of the hull identification number (on the starboard-side of the transom), what it means when the top of a junction buoy is green (the preferred channel is to starboard), and the required navigation lights for a sailboat under power (stern light and side lights). Missing three out of the 10 quiz questions prompted a pop-up window on my computer screen: I had to start the module over again. Hanging above my desk, taunting me, was a recent cover of Boating, which I had reviewed and approved.

As editorial director of Bonnier’s marine, fishing, aviation and travel titles, I oversee the content of a dozen brands, including Boating, Yachting, Salt Water Sportsman, Sport Fishing and Marlin, titles where boats are integral. Exhibit A: In a recent issue of Salt Water Sportsman, more than 60 percent of the pages feature a boat in the photo or illustration, and 92 percent of the pages reference boats in some capacity. And here I am, in meetings and on conference calls, trying to cover my aft from being exposed as a first-class googan.

So, I decided to become a boater, as much for the professional upside as to take advantage of living in Florida, where not being able to boat is like living at Pebble Beach with a 60 handicap.

Boats weren’t a part of my youth. I grew up in western

Maryland, and while the Old Line State touches the water, I rarely did. Sure, there were periodic road trips to Ocean City and occasional outings on the Severn River, but that’s about it.

Last fall I started my journey into boatdom, leveraging all the resources my marinecentric company had to offer. I couldn’t have asked for a better place to start. I’m Matt Damon in Good Will Hunting: a janitor imbedded at Harvard, except without all that burdensome genius, charm or hair.

MILE MARKER 1: HIT THE BOOKS I consulted with Boating editor-in-chief

Kevin Falvey about where to begin. He referred me to the aforementioned US Power Squadrons boating course: a 287-page manual covering 236 individual topics, a sixpart online course (getting started, navigation rules, government regulations, finding your way, communications, watersports safety, trailering and PWC operation) and a 50-question final exam. It took me approximately two months to complete.

The education was indepth and extremely detailed, and left me wondering how many people on the water could really speak intelligently about those 287 topics. Did most boaters know that all visible mud, plants and animals should be removed from the boat and trailer before leaving the ramp to avoid the spread of nonnative fish, quagga mussels and zebra mussels? Or that five short blasts from the stand-on boat means do not pass or overtake? Could they navigate the tricky quiz question in Module 6 that asked if a spring line is a line used in March, April and May?

IT’S ONE THING TO INTERPRET A NAVIGATIONAL MARKER FROM A DESK CHAIR. IT’S ANOTHER TO DO SO IN THE GLARING LIGHT OF DAY, WITH VESSELS MOVING IN EVERY DIRECTION, AT 20 MPH.

Nevertheless, my intent was to do the homework like a good student. But even with the knowledge acquired over those two months, my boating experience was still all theoretical. It’s one thing to interpret a navigational marker from a desk chair. It’s another to do so in the glaring light of day, with vessels moving in every direction, at 20 mph. Six modules later, I’m the geeky sports writer who can wax poetic about pitchcount strategy but couldn’t throw a four-seam fastball to save his life.

MILE MARKER 2: BAY BOAT UNIVERSITY

I needed seat time. After all, a boater who doesn’t boat is just a guy with a US Power Squadrons certificate of completion over his desk. I pinged my friend Dave, a lifelong boater who keeps his express cruiser in the marina outside his window in Pensacola. Could he could give me some on-the-water instruction? He replied quickly, eager to help. “Great. Can we pick a date for next month?” I asked. Dave very matter-of-factly informed me that we’d have to pick a date just a few days out to account for weather. Of course you can’t pick a day next month, no more than can I predict what mood my 4-year-old niece will be in a month from now. My fourseam fastball just dribbled into the dugout.

Traveling 458 miles to Pensacola on three days’ notice seemed unlikely, so I reached out to Randy Vance, editorat-large for Bonnier’s marine and fishing titles, as well as the face of Boating’s video boattest franchise, a lifelong boater who took his first solo ride at age 11 on a 15-foot Starcraft on Lake of the Ozarks, and author of Power Boating for Dummies, part of the blockbuster book series with the crime-scenetape color scheme.

On a bluebird Friday in early January, Randy took me out onto the Intracoastal Waterway near New Smyrna Beach aboard his Ranger 2510 Bay powered by a 350 hp Mercury Verado. While waiting in the parking lot for Randy to arrive, I ate a banana. Then it hit me: Bananas are perceived as bad luck on boats, and technically there will be a banana on the boat. I opted not to tell Randy.

With the boat ramp still in sight, Randy let me take the wheel knob. He guided me through gripping the throttle handle (“let it settle between your thumb and forefinger like a pool cue”), taking wakes (“hit it at a 45-degree angle”)

and docking (“the slower you go, the slower you crash”). While cruising the ICW, Randy posted a video of our excursion on Facebook, noting that I was learning to boat. “Welcome, my son. By now this will have taken over your life,” read one of the comments.

MILE MARKER 3: SKIFF COLLEGE

A few weeks later, my classroom is a skiff belonging to Mark MacKenzie, a lifelong boater (notice a theme here?), former sternman on a lobster boat in Maine, and digital content director at Bonnier. We launched his 18-foot

Xplor near Cape Canaveral. Mark navigated the skiff through a very skinny channel, then directed me to the helm and clipped the kill switch to my belt.

The Indian River Lagoon had the depth finder dancing: 9 feet, 3 feet, 7 feet, 2 feet. Crab-trap buoys and oyster bars peppered our path, making it clear that the water is under no obligation to cooperate. For auto drivers, the routes have been paved, organized, connected and marked with signs the size of a stadium video screen. Out here, one must rely on alertness, awareness and local knowledge.

MILE MARKER 4: TRAINING ON BISCAYNE BAY

Randy forwards me an email: BoatU.S. Foundation is offering an on-the-water training course at the Miami International Boat Show. The three-hour tutorial provides students instruction on predeparture preparation, shifting gears, throttle control, docking and station holding. Four weeks later, I’m at Pier 1 of the Miami Marine Stadium, on Virginia Key, being greeted by Capt. Jim Jurgens, a lifelong boater (yes, I know you know) who grew up on Lake Superior. He’s also a member of the Freedom Boat Club,

I WAVED TO THE OTHER CAPTAINS. IT WAS A MOVE I HAD COVETED FOR YEARS—THE COMMUNAL GESTURE SHARED BETWEEN MARINERS.

a boat-sharing service that provides an alternative to boat ownership.

We boarded a Cobia 220 CC powered by a Yamaha 250, went through the pre-departure checklist, and headed out onto Biscayne Bay. On the menu: pivot turns, backing up, taking wakes, and docking at a concrete platform in the shadow of Brickell Avenue’s highrises. The only people nearby were a couple of models vamping for a photographer, so they were paying attention to themselves, not the guy dinging the stern into the piling.

For three glorious hours I ran the Cobia through the moderate Biscayne Bay chop and along the Intracoastal Waterway as pontoons, catamarans, police boats and party barges passed by. I grew comfortable at the helm and with the boat’s feel. I waved to the other captains. It was a move I had coveted for years—the communal gesture shared between mariners. I went 2-for-4 on waves, although I’m pretty sure one of them didn’t see me.

Even though my ongoing boating education is powered by the top marine and fishing magazines, that power is actually available to all greenhorns. The US Power Squadrons course is $35. Power Boating for Dummies is available for $15 on Amazon. An issue of Boating is $5. The BoatU.S. on-the-water training course is $150. Locations encompass such places as Wickford, Rhode Island; Lake Lewisville, Texas; and Los Angeles.

I emailed the Freedom Boat Club to inquire about membership. An hour later, Jane Osbourne, membership director of its Space Coast outpost, sent me the details and fee information for membership. An hour later, I responded with questions.

There I was, negotiating, at work, about work.