I’m Kayla, and I went to an XCAT Racing weekend on the beach in the UAE. I thought I knew boats. I didn’t. These cats don’t just run; they almost float on air. The water shook. My chest did too. And yes, I grinned like a kid with a new kite. I’ve written a longer blow-by-blow race diary—The Day I Felt Boats Fly—over on the XCAT site if you want every lap detail.
You know what? I still hear the engines when I think about it. Honestly, my heart’s still buzzing just like it was in this full trip report from another XCAT stop.
If you’re looking to dive deeper into the sport itself, for authoritative information on XCAT Racing, you can refer to the official UIM XCAT Powerboating World Championship website. For the latest news and updates on XCAT Racing events, the official XCAT Racing website provides comprehensive coverage.
Why I Went
I’m a motorsport nerd. I watch F1, MotoGP, and the wild stuff on water—Class 1, F1H2O, and now XCAT. A friend said, “Stand by Turn 1. Trust me.” So I packed sunscreen, a hat, and ear plugs. I also brought a little patience. Wind on the coast loves to mess with race plans.
If you’re eyeing a future stop, the official XCAT Racing site posts the full calendar and entry details. If riverside racing is more your scene, I’ve also chronicled a day by the Thames in Windsor.
What It’s Like Trackside
Picture a bright beach morning. Flags snapping. Kids with earmuffs. A long line of sleek black, white, and neon boats on trailers. Twin Mercury Racing outboards hanging off each one like muscle. The beach vibe reminded me of the laid-back but no-less-intense Key West powerboat races I covered earlier.
A marshal waved me toward the fence. I could see the course buoys set tight, like a street circuit on water. XCATs need to corner sharp. They don’t glide; they bite, then explode out.
When the start rolled, the fleet came in a wall. The sound hit first, high and mean. Then spray. I got a mist right on my face. Salt, fuel, and sunscreen—great combo.
How It Works (Real Simple)
- The boats are catamarans. Two skinny hulls with a tunnel in the middle.
- Each boat runs two big outboards. Think 400 hp each. Yes, eight hundred total.
- The course is near shore, with short straights and tight turns.
- Starts are rolling, so they’re already moving fast when they cross.
- Miss a buoy? You’ll do a penalty lap. Annoying, but fair.
The cool part is how close you are. It’s not far-off like some offshore stuff. You can see the drivers brace and the boats “porpoise” as they trim. And when a cat hooks up just right, it looks like it’s skating on glass.
Little Moments That Stuck
- A Dubai Police boat and a green-and-white Abu Dhabi boat traded the lead for two laps. I swear they were inches apart. One tucked tighter at the buoy, the other blasted past on the straight. Classic chess on water.
- A yellow flag came out when a boat spun after clipping a wake. No big crash, just a sharp 180 and a spray bloom like a firework. The safety RIBs moved fast, then peeled off.
- The atmosphere had shades of the San Diego bayfront showdown I attended earlier in the season.
- In the pits, a mechanic bled a fuel line into a jar. Calm hands, no drama. I leaned in and got a nod like, “Yeah, it’s under control.” I love that quiet craft.
- A little boy next to me wore giant blue ear muffs and kept count. “That’s lap 8,” he said. He was right. He was right every time.
I also got a short ride on a support RIB between sessions—media wristband stuff. Not the race boat, of course. But skipping across the chop at speed changed how I saw the race. Those waves the fans shrug at? They’re not small when you’re out there.
What I Loved
- The raw speed. These cats plane fast and stay flat. It’s like they argue with gravity and win.
- The access. You can see the boats up close on stands. Crews don’t hide. If you’re polite, they’ll answer a quick question.
- The mix of people. Families, die-hard fans, folks in beach flip-flops who just wandered over and got hooked.
- The commentary. English and Arabic on the PA where I stood. Clear, not fluff. It helped me follow penalty laps and flags.
Heading to the race solo doesn’t mean you have to watch the spray alone; line up potential company in advance on planculfacile.com where you can quickly connect with locals or fellow travelers eager for a high-octane hangout, making it easier to share the thrills trackside and maybe even keep the fun rolling after the final checkered flag.
What Bugged Me (A Little)
- Schedule drift. Wind picked up, and they pushed one session back. Safety first, yes. But I stared at the horizon for an hour.
- Sun burn risk. Shade was scarce by the main fence. Bring a hat and reapply. I didn’t. I paid.
- Food lines. I waited fifteen minutes for a cold sandwich. It tasted like a cold sandwich.
- Live timing. On my phone, it lagged. The PA said one thing; my screen said another. Pick one and trust it—go with the PA.
Small stuff, really. But it’s fair to flag it.
Tips If You Go
- Get there early for the pit walk. You’ll see hulls out of the water and the prop notes taped to the rig carts.
- Bring ear protection. The pitch is sharp. Kids need muffs, not just fingers in ears.
- Stand near a turn. That’s where the story is. Exits show who’s got grip and guts.
- Pack water, hat, and a light scarf. The wind flips from nice to “sand in your teeth” fast.
- Grab a seat pad or a small stool. Your back will thank you during delays.
- If you’re a desert dweller, you can get a similar high-octane fix at the loud, bright Lake Havasu race weekend.
A full day on your feet—especially if you tack on a long flight or road trip afterward—can leave muscles knotted tighter than a pit-lane torque wrench; if your route home swings you through Delaware, the detailed spa guide at rubmaps Dover will point you toward well-reviewed massage spots so you can melt away the tension without wasting time or cash on a gamble.
Who Will Love It
- Gearheads who like setup talk—prop angles, weight balance, trim tabs.
- Photographers. You’ll get spray walls and sun glint frames all day.
- Families with older kids. It’s loud and exciting; it’s also easy to bail to the water if they get restless.
Not a great fit for folks who hate noise or heat. Fair call.
A Quick Compare
If you’ve seen Class 1, those boats feel bigger and deeper in tone. XCATs are lighter on their feet. Snappier. It’s closer to Moto3 than MotoGP—more twitch, more swarm. F1H2O? That’s single-seaters on lakes and rivers. XCAT owns the beach vibe and keeps the action tight to shore.
Money Talk
My entry was free at the beach zone. Food was normal event pricing. Merch was the only splurge. I bought a cap and got it signed by a driver who’d just finished P3. He laughed when my marker wouldn’t start. We shook it like maracas. It worked.
Safety, Because It Matters
Marshals were sharp. RIBs launched quick on every yellow. Helmets, HANS, rescue divers—the whole setup looked pro. I felt safe on the fan side even when the breeze shifted and spray kissed the barrier.
Final Take
XCAT Racing gave me a day I’ll keep. It’s not perfect—weather rules, and schedules wobble. But when the fleet barrels toward that first buoy, it grabs you. You feel the craft. You feel the nerve. You feel the water fight back.
Would I go again? In a heartbeat. I’d bring a better hat, a full bottle, and a small chair. I’d stand by Turn 1 and wait for that first surge.
Score: 4