18 July/August 2019 _ PopularMechanics.comThere’s a horsepower war that happens off the coast of Maine.
I entered. First prize: a bucket of bait. / BY EZRA DYER /OU ASK A Maine lobster-boat racer what kind of horse-
power he’s running. The first answer will always be
a dutiful recitation of the factory specification, usu-
ally delivered with a smirk. Ask again, and the second
answer might be more like the truth. Like if his 18.1-liter
CAT diesel was rated for 700 horsepower before he made
a few mods—free-flowing intake and exhaust, at the very
least—maybe he’d acknowledge it’s more like 800 horsepower now.
If the first answer is 1,000, the second might be more like 1,200. But
the reality is that nobody knows. It’s not like you can dyno-test a com-
mercia l fishing boat. A ll you know is that when you’re done hauling
600 lobster traps, you get back to the harbor a little quicker than you
did before. And when you enter a race some weekend over the sum-
mer, you’ve got some extra speed in your back pocket.
Yes: Maine lobster-boat races. It sounds like a goof, like the fall
pumpkin races that they hold in Damariscotta, where they mount
outboard motors on giant gourds and race around the harbor. But it’s
serious, an annua l circuit w ith events up and dow n the coast. Some ofthe boats are purpose-built racers, trailered to each event, cammed-
up big-blocks bursting through their decks. They’re lobster boats in
the same way that Joey Logano’s Nascar race car is a Mustang. But
most of the entrants are act ua l commercia l fishing vessels, work boats
that happen to be screamin’ fast. Their owners might make a 100-
mile trip, or more, just to race for a minute or so. And yeah, there are
prizes—bait, maybe a set of tires from a local sponsor—but the real
reason they’re there is for the thrill. I know, because I used to race.
Back in high school, in the ’90s, my dad was a lobsterman and
we had a little 21-foot Novi boat with a Volvo-Penta four-cylinder.
The last time I raced it, at the Merritt Brackett race in Pemaquid, I
came in fourth in the Novi class, just missing the podium. I’ve always
dreamed of making a return and avenging that performance. Today,
I’m attempting just that. Race 3 is “Clamdiggers and lobster-pick-
ers, 71 horsepower and over, skiffs 16 feet and over.” And I brought a
skiff, of sorts—a new Yamaha 210 FSH center console. Which lands
me in trouble right from check-in, where I forget to lie.
Registration is at The Contented Sole, a waterfront restaurantLobstermen
Go Racing
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