Parking is the hard part (also on the water)

Cockpit Briefing

Driving a motorboat in a straight line is easy. Getting it into a narrow box, with the river pushing you one way and the wind the other… that’s a different story. I learned to drive a motorboat on the Aare in Solothurn, and passed the exam. And along the way, I found a lot of things I already knew from flying.

The Moment

My first lesson started very relaxed. Out of the harbour, onto the Aare, a little cruise along the river. Steering, accelerating, slowing down. “This is easy,” I thought.

Then my instructor said: “Okay, now let’s dock.”

And suddenly it wasn’t easy anymore. A boat has no brakes. It drifts, it turns slowly, and the river keeps pushing it while you think. My first attempts were… let’s call them creative. Too fast, too slow, the wrong angle, a little too close to the neighbour’s boat. My instructor stayed calm and just said: “Again.” or showed me how to do it right and after that it was my turn again.

So we practised. Lesson after lesson, docking in every possible situation:

• Against the current: the river works like a brake, and you can approach slowly and with good control. The friendliest option.
• With the current: the river pushes you forward, so you need much more feeling for speed and timing.
• With wind: suddenly the boat drifts sideways, and you have to aim not where you want to go, but where the wind will take you.
• Without wind: sounds easy, and it is. Enjoy it while it lasts.
• Into a single box: narrow, with no room for mistakes on either side.
• Alongside another boat: gently, without touching, and with fenders ready.

And slowly, my brain started to calculate all of this automatically. Current from here, wind from there, so I approach from this angle, at this speed. Until one day the boat simply slid into the box exactly where I wanted it.

The Lesson

The biggest lesson: slow is smooth, and smooth is fast. Every time I approached too fast, I lost control. Every time I came in slowly and calmly, with small corrections, it worked. If an approach doesn’t fit, abort it, go back out and try again. There’s no shame in a second try. There’s only shame in a scratched boat.

The exam itself has two parts: a theory exam about the rules on the water, signals, right of way and safety, and a practical exam with an expert on board. You show that you can drive, dock and handle the classic emergency exercise: someone (or in the exam, a buoy) falls overboard, and you turn around and pick them up safely. Also show the examiner that you are able to do a few of the most important knots. When the expert said I’d passed, I was very happy.

A few words about the licence: in Switzerland you need a licence for motorboats above a certain engine power. It’s issued by the cantonal navigation office and is valid on all Swiss lakes and rivers. (There are a few expetions on certains parts of the Hochrhein river.) Abroad it depends on the country. Many neighbouring countries accept the Swiss licence on their inland waters, but the rules differ, and sometimes you need an extra document. So before renting a boat on holiday, it’s worth checking the local rules first.

The Personal Part

What surprised me most was how familiar a lot of this felt from flying.

An airplane lands into the wind, and a boat docks best against the current. Both for the same reason: it makes you slower over the ground and gives you more control. In both cases, you have to think ahead, because nothing reacts immediately. You plan your approach, keep your speed under control, and if it doesn’t look right: go around. And in both cases, a good briefing before you start makes everything calmer.

And then there’s the river itself. Driving along the Aare in Solothurn, with the old town passing by and the sun on the water, is just beautiful. After an evening on the boat, I always come home relaxed. Maybe that’s the best part of it.

One Takeaway

The moment you’re about to arrive is always the hardest, in the air and on the water. Come in slowly, read the current and the wind, and don’t be afraid to try again. A calm second approach beats a rushed first one every time.