I never expected flipping the throttle to feel like stepping into a whole new world — but on Day 3 in Marathon, when Jeff passed me the boat’s helm, that’s exactly what happened. The waves weren’t just water; they were moving forces demanding respect, and captains? They’re essentially choreographers of chaos.

Getting Started — Trim, Neutral, Engine On

Jeff showed me the trim control: a gentle thumb tweak that raises or lowers the motor and changes how the stern floats. In neutral, we started the engine. The same sequence every time, but here precision mattered: too much throttle and you pop off balance; too little and the boat sinks into the chop.

Finding the Channel — My “Chicklet Line” Moment

Clear lines don’t mark the river. Jeff taught me to read the water and to check satellite imagery — Google Earth low-tide images that reveal sandbars and color shifts. That’s how he navigates the Karnes-Green Channel: not blindly trusting tech, but reading the water.

On Plane — Smooth & Intuitive

When the bow lifted and we were gliding, I knew it. Trim up, level the boat, ease the bow down — keep RPM steady and you float faster and smoother, steering gently between red and green casings that mark safe passage.

Reversing, Steering, and Pulling it All Together

My first reverse felt slow and weighted; my first 360° loop required leaning, trimming, angling, and balance. Emerging perfectly aligned between the markers was a mix of adrenaline and relief. Driving taught me the subtlety of currents, the noisy learning curve of the throttle, and the deep respect captains have for the river’s moods.

Conclusion

By the time I handed the wheel back, my arms were shaky, but my confidence buoyed. Learning to drive a boat in Marathon was a humbling, hands-on lesson in respect, intuition, and maritime finesse.