There are so many moving parts, literally and figuratively. The engine, trolling motor, electronics, live wells, shallow water anchors, batteries, wires, trailer. I could go on and on, you get the point. Not to mention navigating the water, boat positioning, tackle organization/weight distribution, or launching at a busy ramp when it feels like all eyes are on you. There’s no doubt this can feel intimidating and overwhelming. From the many conversations I’ve had, I think a lot of women (and men) can relate to this.
For me personally, so many anglers I compete against or fish with have been behind the wheel of a boat for years. I felt like I was late to the game. It felt like something I had to work up to, like I needed more experience before I could claim that space.
But here’s the thing: the only way to gain that experience is by doing the darn thing.
Starting Before I Felt Ready
For many years I fished in team tournaments, as a co-angler, and out of a kayak. Which I do want to clarify, I wouldn’t trade this knowledge and experience for the world. This is a fantastic route to take if you’re wanting to get into bass tournaments. This all taught me a ton, but what it didn’t teach me was how to run my own boat. Admittedly, I kept putting it off because I didn’t feel ready.
I didn’t wake up one day magically knowing how to run a boat. I woke up and realized running my own boat was the only way to learn and grow. It’s what I needed to do to take that next step, and regardless of how nervous I was, I was finally hungry enough to make it happen.
I started messy. Let’s be honest, I’m still new, so I’m still messy.
I make mistakes. What do you do with mistakes? You learn from them. I’m already forming a long list of things I’ve learned NOT to do.
I ask questions. I’m fortunate enough to have experienced fellow anglers in my life who are always happy to help.
I use my resources. There are copious amounts of educational videos and articles at our disposal. I try to learn something new every day.
I’ve taken longer at the ramp than I wanted to. Bright side? Every time I’m there I get faster.
There have been moments I felt eyes on me, moments I overthought every move, and moments I wondered if I should just let someone else take over. But I didn’t. Because deep down, I knew that if I wanted to truly own my time on the water, I had to learn how to do it myself.
Learning the Hard Way
Running your own boat teaches you fast. Like learning how to repair a trailer tire on your second trip out because you got a nail in it fast… speaking from experience on that one. You learn how to stay calm when things don’t go perfectly, because they rarely ever do. And honestly? Those lessons hit different when you’re the one in charge.
Every small win builds on the last. The first time you trailer perfectly on your own, the first day you run your boat without second-guessing every decision, the first bass you hook on the front deck of your very own boat. Those moments don’t just teach skill, they build confidence.
Finding My Own Rhythm
Something I try to remind myself is I don’t have to fish or run my boat like anyone else. I don’t need to be the fastest, I don’t need to have the heaviest bag at the end of the day, I don’t need to know everything, and I don’t need to prove anything. I just need to show up, learn, and continue to improve.
It’s no secret that I’m very much so still learning. However, the intimidation is slowly fading and something else taking its place. The feeling of independence.
Running my own boat has given me a new level of confidence in myself. It’s taught me not to shy away from challenges, but view them as growth opportunities. Once you prove to yourself that you can handle something that once intimidated you, it’s hard to go back to doubting yourself.
To the Woman Standing Where I Once Was
If you’re reading this and feeling that same hesitation I once did, this is for you:
I promise you, you are more capable than you think. You don’t need to have it all figured out before you start. Take the wheel, ask the questions, and learn as you go.
Feeling intimidated isn’t a sign to stop. It’s a sign you’re stepping into something bigger.
Let’s show other women that we belong here too, because we do.
