Bermuda Activities - The Wildcat
“This aint no pussycat, baby!”
How many times did I hear
that phrase and want to
strangle the man who uttered
it. I do know that I
spent the most hair-raising
couple of hours of my life
on board the Wildcat, a 50-
foot-plus, high-speed catamaran
powered by two 800
horsepower, supercharged
Caterpillar diesels.
It was a cool, somewhat
overcast morning when I stood at the dock on Front Street
waiting for the boat to arrive. I’d been told by those who know
I was in for a fairly wild ride, and that seas off the South
Shore were expected to be a little on the choppy side. So
what? I consider myself a fairly experienced sailor – I’ve
spent many a day deep sea fishing and had yet to experience
anything I couldn’t handle. Anyway, I was looking forward to
a couple of hours of offshore sightseeing.
The boat arrived at
the dock; it looked docile enough, even taking into account
the rather garish paint job – yellow with black tiger stripes. I
boarded and seated myself strategically in the last row of
seats against the rail – the best place, so I thought, to enjoy
the views. I should have known something was afoot when I
was asked to strap myself in and the tour guide, a tall Bahamian
with an attitude, announced to the passengers for the
first time that, “This aint no pussycat, Baby!” He then went
on to give a safety talk that I felt would have been more appropriate on an airplane. Finally, the boat cruised quietly
out of the Great Sound and into the ocean off the North
Shore – the first leg of a ride that would take us completely
around the island, more than 50 miles. The waters off the
North Shore were as smooth as glass. The wind barely whispered
over the bow. The sun was shining; it was going to be a
beautiful day. So far, so good.
Once the boat was a half-mile off-shore the engines began to
growl and the speed rose to some 20 knots, at which point
the great boat rose out of the water onto its hydroplanes, and
the speed continued to increase. Within a few minutes we
were skimming over the emerald waters at almost 50 knots,
and I have to tell you it was exhilarating, though still no indication
of what was to come.
We sped eastward toward St. George, then south around the
eastern end of the island, and the sea became a little choppy,
throwing up clouds of spray and causing the boat to buck,
but not alarmingly so. All the while the guide was giving us a
running commentary over the speaker system, from the relative
comfort of the enclosed bridge, I might add. The boat
slowed and we pulled into the harbor at St. George to pick up
more passengers.
Bermuda - How to Get There:
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