I spent a full week with an XCAT catamaran rigged with twin Mercury Racing outboards. I ran right seat first, then moved to throttle. I still feel it in my forearms. And in my cheeks—because I couldn’t stop grinning. Was it fast? Yes. Scary? A little. Worth it? Oh yeah.
Adrenaline junkies like me tend to chase every angle of a rush—including the quick, candid “snaps” that freeze those raw, heart-pounding moments in time. If you get a kick out of unfiltered, first-person footage that captures real people living right on the edge, swing by Snap Amateur for a vault of no-frills, NSFW clips that show how authentic amateur perspectives can make any thrill feel even more immediate and relatable.
If you want a second set of fingerprints on a similar adventure, take a spin through this detailed account of a Mercury Racing XCAT hands-on, white-knuckle week that echoes everything I felt.
The boat and setup I ran
Our hull was a 32-foot carbon cat. Twin Mercury Racing 400s on the transom. CNC cleaver props. Digital throttle and shift at my right hand. Simrad screen dead center. Lifeline jacket, Stilo helmet, radio check, good to go. Simple as it sounds, but not simple at all.
We marked the trim with a Sharpie line on the switches. One click up for clean water. Two clicks if the chop stacked. Any more and the bow wanted to kite. Ask me how I learned that. (Gently.)
For a deep dive into factory rigging tips, the XCAT Racing site offers a goldmine of setup diagrams and tuning notes.
First start, first lap
Cold start in the morning felt calm. The motors barked, then settled into a smooth hum. A tiny supercharger whine under the cowls, like a kettle just short of boil. We idled out, watched water pressure and temp. Everything green.
I rolled into the throttle past the breakwater. The cat leaped and the world shrank. 40. 60. 80. The hull lifted, the props bit, and the noise turned into a thick roar that lived in my chest. On our best straight, with two on board and light fuel, we saw 104 mph on GPS. Not a guess. I stared at the number, then looked up, and promised myself to stop staring at the number. Need a baseline? The factory performance test of a much heavier Formula 400 SSC running four 400Rs still clocks 71.5 mph and hammer-to-30 in just 11.45 seconds, which tells you how stout these motors really are. That sensation of watching the world blur is exactly what another pilot captured in “The Day I Felt Boats Fly,” and it’s worth a read before your own first blast.
How it handles when you push it
Here’s the thing: the speed is wild, but the control is the magic. At 70 in light chop, the boat skims and skips like a flat rock, but the wheel stays steady. Small inputs matter. Breathe on it. Over-correct and you’ll porpoise; ease off and it settles. The hull talks through the seat—tiny taps, a thud here, a soft slide there.
Tight turns around the marks? You can hold 60–70 if you time the trim right. If you chop throttle mid-turn, the bow will slap and remind you who’s boss. Ask my co-driver, Mark. He said, “Feather, don’t slam.” He was right. I hate saying he was right.
Real moments that stuck with me
- On day two, the starboard motor tossed a warning. Not heat—just a voltage dip. We found a loose ground at the battery switch, cleaned it, and the code cleared. Quick fix, but a good lesson: wiggle-test your connections.
- We caught a floating plastic bag on the port pickup during a hot lap. Temps crept up fast. We idled, popped the cowl, cleared the mess, and went back out. Keep a boat hook handy. It’s not just for docks.
- We tried a different prop set late afternoon—two inches more pitch. It dropped peak rpm a touch and smoothed the midrange. Top speed didn’t change much in that heat, but the punch out of the marks felt cleaner.
- I had one “that was dumb” moment: I thumbed two extra clicks of trim chasing a rooster tail. The bow started to fly. I eased out, waited a beat, and it came back down. Respect the water, and mark your trim like it’s your last pencil.
Noise, heat, and the human stuff
It’s loud. Not rude, but loud. With the helmets on, it’s music. Without them, it’s a bit much. The motors don’t love long idle lines in summer heat, so we planned short pauses. Run a lap, cool a lap. You know what? That rhythm helped me drive better too.
Fuel? We burned about 65 gallons in 45 minutes of hot laps. It didn’t shock me. Speed has a price, and it’s paid at the pump. Premium only. No shortcuts.
What I loved
- The throttle feel. Crisp. No lag. You breathe on it and the boat answers.
- The way it tracks. At speed, it feels locked in, not twitchy.
- Start-up and daily checks were simple. Fluids, props, latches, done.
- Mercury’s data readouts were clear. I didn’t guess. I knew.
What bugged me (but didn’t ruin it)
- It’s loud and thirsty. That’s the deal.
- The trim switches are small for gloved hands. I’d swap to bigger rockers.
- Heat soak after a hard set can make the next start feel a bit grumpy. Give it a minute.
- Everything costs more because race parts are race parts.
Who this fits
If you’ve run fast cats before, and you want pro-level pace with real support, this is your candy store. If you’re brand new to go-fast, start smaller. Work up. This rig doesn’t forgive sloppy hands, and it shouldn’t.
Tips I wish someone told me
- Mark your trim sweet spots. One line for flat water. One for chop.
- Bring spare fuses, a clean rag, and tape for cowling latches. Sounds boring. Saves your day.
- Check the props for dings after every session. Even tiny nicks change the feel.
- Watch the wind lanes on the water. The boat will feel them before you see them.
- Hydrate. You’ll forget until your forearms cramp mid-heat.
After a day of laying into the throttles, my shoulders felt like concrete and my grip muscles begged for mercy. If you finish your own session with knots you could tune a guitar on, take the hint and line up a proper rub-down through Rubmaps Largo—the listings and insider reviews there make it easy to pinpoint legit spots for deep-tissue work so you’re loose enough to grab the sticks again tomorrow without wincing.
Quick Q&A people asked me on the dock
- Top speed? I saw 104 mph on our best pass. Your water, your props, your air—your number.
- Hard to drive? It’s not “hard,” but it’s exact. It wants your full brain.
- Rough water? It can handle chop, but it’s a race cat. Pick your lines, use your trim, and you’ll be fine.
My take, plain and simple
The Mercury Racing XCAT setup turned a normal week into a story I’ll tell for years. It’s fast, but it’s also smart and steady when you treat it right. It bit me once, taught me twice, and then gave me the most fun I’ve had on water since my first clean holeshot as a kid.
Would I run it again next weekend? In a heartbeat. I’d bring more fuel, a bigger smile, and maybe—maybe—listen to Mark the first time. For a different perspective that’ll get your pulse going, check out how another newcomer walked away saying their heart was still buzzing after an XCAT outing.