So what’s up, carl?

I crank up my test drive by anchoring my butt against the leading edge of a Release Marine ladderback helm chair, so I can use the little jewel as a sort of stand-up-to-steer bolster— you know, for improved control, and maybe a little cool-handed coolness, too. And then, since I’m really into driving boats, I quickly pick up on the fact that both the adjustable teakrimmed steering wheel and the twin-stick engine control have been seemingly positioned for my personal ergonomic benefit. Carl Herndon’s been fishing and building boats most of his life. The founder of the well-regarded Blackfin Yacht Corporation (builder of the famed and fishy Blackfin Combi) and former president of Bertram Yachts, Herndon is now the CEO of Jupiter Marine International, a boutiquey, detail-oriented outfit that employs more than a few of Herndon’s friends and relations. His plans for the summer are about the same as they have been for the past couple of decades—he and his family will spend about a month at some spot in the Bahamas. “This year,” he says, “we’re taking one of our 38s over…we’re sold out of the 41s. And we’re going to the Abacos—I love the Abacos. We’re gonna rent a house—think we’ve got a place on White Sound lined up—and have the boat right nearby. And we’ll catch some fish, oh yeah. But hey, you know…you can’t fish all the time, Bill. You gotta eat too! We’ll have some wonderful meals over there if the past is any measure. And we’ll have fish just about every day. Fish, rice, and vegetables. Gotta love it, eh? And then finally, since I’m really, really, really into driving boats, I only wait about a nanosecond before pourin’ the coal to ’er, as we used to say in the days of my riotous youth, and the revs start rising like they’ve been shot out of a gun.

Whoooooeeee! In a heartbeat, the 41’s doing dang near 45 knots, with her triple 350s emitting little more than a stealthy purr, and the Tampa Bay chop blowing past in an absolute blur. I glance over my shoulder to see if there’s anybody else approaching the Sunshine Skyway Bridge at the moment. At warp speed. Inbound.

“Whataya think?” I ask the guy sitting on the L-shaped settee to port, Todd Albrecht, sales honcho for Jupiter, “Pull a hardover turn at top speed?” “Go for it, Bill,” he grins. I tap the fast and instantly effective electric Lenco tabs down just a hair, the point being to add a few more G-forces to the upcoming turn. And then, after I’ve trimmed the lower units in a bit too—and with a burst of velocity-lovin’ joy suffusing my heart—I crank the wheel hardover, spinning the 41 like a top.

Man! The sideways centrifugal oomph squashes me against the starboard inwale as I shoot a quick look over my shoulder again to see the triples back there carving a frothy-white, super-tight scimitar. Albrecht is holding on for dear life.

Do we lose a few revs? Yeah, sure. Maybe a couple of hundred, but the 41 regains quickly, never evinces a whiff of blowout, and in seconds we’re barreling back towards Egmont Key, with the tabs tapped back up (to boost speed), the lower units tapped up as well, and a ride that’s smooth and floaty, but rail-ridin’ straight.

“Look at that,” I enthuse, as our 41’s nose gently rises and falls, holding an unerringly steady course. “She’s steering herself, Todd—my hands are just touchin’ the wheel. Not re-