Real Boats Rattle: My 1997 Boston Whaler Dauntless

The enduring backstory of a very fishy boat.

You’ve heard it a million times before: “The best two days of owning a boat are the day you buy it, and the day you sell it”.

Well, the day I bought this boat sucked.

It had been sitting outside on a trailer for years, completely inoperable. Almost everything besides the hull was broken, and there was moss growing out of the transom. The wheels on the trailer were rusted all the way through the hubs, and there were loose wires dangling all over the place. For someone that knew nothing about working on boats, it wasn’t exactly exciting for me. I like DIY projects, but I like fishing more. I just wanted it to be ready to go. The lifeless boat in front of me already felt like a looming chore that hadn’t started yet but might not end until after peak Striper season was over. It was a pipe dream that one day it would cut through the Delta marsh like a flats skiff in the Lowcountry. And even though I bought the boat for a great deal, that day it was more like buying a big paperweight that resembled something I’ll never have.

I’ll always miss the angular 90s design lines of the old motor and controls.

The jumper cables eventually became part of the boat (left). I considered re-painting the name on the back but opted to keep it original to not risk any bad luck.

Back in 2014, my best buddy from high school bought MISS RITA, a 15’ 1997 Boston Whaler Dauntless, from the original owner who was a former Navy SEAL. Clearly well-maintained, the low-hour 2-stroke Yamaha was as reliable as it'd ever been. It sounded like a well-oiled dirt bike when you fully opened her up. It ran loud and strong like it was supposed to in the late 90s. The 15 foot hull had been babied, and the non-skid looked like it just came out of the factory.

The Dauntless was a model of unsinkable legend that was only produced for a few years in the mid to late 90s. Boston Whaler likely stopped making it because they had a similar sized model already, the Montauk, which sold better to the masses and had already solidified its place as the flagship leisure cruiser - pastel sweaters and oversized lifejackets not included. The Dauntless however, has a slightly deeper hull than the Montauk so it punched above its weight in larger water, had a rounded bow, and was still capable of drafting only 6” in the shallow stuff if it needed to. It was a bit more sporty than the Montauk was - and perhaps they marketed it that way too much so. It was small, but powerful and versatile. It was clearly made to be a sport fishing boat.

It’s very difficult to find original images of the 90s Dauntless 15’ on the internet.

The official Dauntless logo (left) did not age well. But it does effectively scream Late 90s ‘SPORT’

In the classic Boston Whaler restoration world, nobody really cares about the 15’ Dauntless. It’s a boat that’s been more or less forgotten over time. It’s hard to find OEM parts for them, and they don’t hold their value as well as a Montauk. But they are a damn good boat, and it seems like many of the people that own them realize they are able to punch above their weight and really handle the chop. Over the years I’ve met guys who run them 40 + miles offshore in good weather. As the years go by, there seems to be a developing cult community around Dauntless owners. If nothing else, I love that it’s a slightly odd-bird, fishing-first design that ultimately didn’t meet the needs of mass America.

For our intended fishing application in various Bays, the Delta, and surrounding waterways, it was the perfect choice if we could find one. It was also the cheapest reliable Whaler on craigslist.

The iconic Adachi clouser rigged up on my 8wt

Over time, we took it out in dicey ocean swells and across the bay day-in and day-out, and eventually started leaving a portable battery jumper on board out of fear of being stranded. It saved us on numerous occasions.

Beyond the disorganized new-boat-owner chaos and mistreatment of a once really well-taken care of vessel, RITA opened up a whole new world of fishing for us. It was our ticket to fishing freedom, previously constrained to hopelessly waving around fly rods from shore. The boat became more than just a vessel for us over time. It was a tool for access. It completely changed how we looked at the fishery we had here in the Bay Area, and is largely responsible for over a decade of fish and adventures. We loved it and our girlfriends hated it.

Full-bore during the last outing with the original motor.

When it finally bit the dust and my buddy got a new boat, I didn’t really have a choice but to keep it in the family and breathe some life back into it. All things come to an end, but it was not this boat’s time yet. It was too good to us to be re-sold to a random dad in the suburbs who would never use it. RITA needed to be fished.

So I cleaned every inch of the deck. Put a brand new 4-stroke Yamaha on the back, re-wired all the electronics, put a new fishfinder on it (which has been great, but I’m pretty sure all those things are pre-loaded with fish marks and probably controlled by the government), patched up all the holes with marine adhesive and fiberglass, replaced the cracked windshield, installed NOS cushions, re-wired the trailer, replaced the winch, and threw new hubs and tires on it. MISS RITA was back and ready to fish in a matter of weeks.

Intentionally marooned with Rio at my favorite beach.

Since then, the boat has caught thousands of stripers on fly, halibut, king salmon, and an unofficial world record fly-caught White Seabass (I will tell that story another time). In between fishing trips, shucking oysters from the reversible bench seat has become synonymous with summer, and it stays loaded with crab pots on the bow all winter.

It’s taken me to secluded beaches and been loaded down with 6 people and tons of gear. I’ve used it to reach previously unaccessible country for backcountry bowhunts, and have trailered it up and down HWY 1 more times than I can count. And even though she’s almost 30 years old and always has at least one screw loose somewhere, she’s in her prime.

I’d rather sink it than sell it. Either way, that day will definitely suck too.