Starting Small, Staying Safe
Posted by Pete Robbins on Apr 12th 2020
It seems today that no one wants to start off with a 17- or 18-foot bass boat. All of the young guns in shiny shirts would rather be boatless if they can’t drive a 20- or 21-foot metalflake rocket ship with poles and four depthfinders.
In November of 1996, when I bought my first bass boat, of course I would’ve wanted a top-of-the-line model, but in hindsight I’m glad that I started off with a 17’10” wet-riding slug. No poles (they did not yet exist), no jackplate, minimal electronics, and the damn thing didn’t even have a cooler.
I made lots of mistakes in that boat, probably put myself in danger more than was wise, but I’m glad that I started out that way. Now, two 19-foot boats and three 20-foot boats later, I don’t take safety for granted. My current boat will keep me dry while easily plowing through or riding on top of waves that would’ve required careful driving in that first hull. What I learned piloting that smaller craft was not to take easy conditions for granted – it established a muscle memory in both my brain and the hands that stay on the steering wheel (but not my foot, because that was my only boat that didn’t have a Hot Foot).
Even today, when I pop over the top of a nasty wave, I intellectually know that my Bass Cat Eyra is going to pull me up and out clean but I still fear that the nose of the boat will clip the top and drench me. I haven’t owned that little 17’10” for almost 21 years, but it scared the piss out of me. I drove it too hard, and once stuffed a big wave in the area known as “The Broads” on New Hampshire’s Lake Winnipesaukee, leaving me with a depthfinder floating at my side and only half a windshield. Today, I’d like to think that I’d be smart enough to avoid those widowmakers altogether, but if forced to get through them I know that I’d be better off than I was back then, regardless of the size of the boat. Part of that is the wisdom of old age, part of it is the residue of hundreds of hours of seat time, but the third element is the caution born from not being able to just point that first boat in a given direction and expect the best.