Tow Easy In Mazda BT-50

By Hannah Tattersall

Driving from Sydney to the Hawkesbury River early one morning with the scent of adventure in the air and a trailer with a jet ski hooked up to my tough new 2025 Mazda BT-50, it strikes me that for all the classic jet ski scenes in movies – James Bond in The Spy Who Loved Me, the surfer dragged along on her board in Blue Crush, and the woeful Waterworld with Dennis Hopper and his team of bandits – none of them show what I believe is a crucial part of this activity.

For all the speed, style and whitewash involved in those cinematic scenes, there’s one stunning oversight: they fail to include a shot of someone reversing a car with a jet ski attached to its trailer into the water, without causing damage to either mode of transport. Or their own sanity.

That’s what I’m doing today, reversing the BT-50, “built to handle whatever’s in its path”, into the Hawkesbury, so I can get out onto the water and rev it up like 007. Because when it comes to doing something cool and outdoorsy, like jet skiing, or surfing, or even camping, it does help to have a vehicle that’s made to accommodate the activity.

The towing capacity of the Mazda BT-50 supports up to 3500kg. That’s a helluva lot of weight and a lot more than is necessary to pull the 544kg jet ski I've borrowed from the adventurous types at Jet Ski Safaris NSW.

Driving around with a trailer attached to the BT-50 was surprisingly easy, particularly considering my near-zero previous towing experience. I actually forget I'm hauling anything around most of the time because the drive is so smooth – and the cabin so quiet – it’s only when I look in my mirror and see it obediently stepping into line behind my ute that I remember I’m even towing a jet ski.

No wonder all the blokes driving past are looking at me with unhidden admiration, but generally other cars on the road don’t seem too bothered by it, either. The great thing about driving with a jet ski on the back of a ute is that people tend to give you quite a bit of space.

Of course, driving in a straight line is not what I'm worried about. It’s the reversing that’s tricky. And that’s what I’m attempting to do right now in Brooklyn, at the edge of the wide and slightly intimidating Hawkesbury River in order to deliver this jet ski from the vehicle to its more natural home in the water – so that I can get out and ride it. Another thing I’ve not done before.

The BT-50’s reverse sensors take some of the pressure away from the fact that I am reversing a ute into a body of water. Surely the car will beep if I enter too far or swing too far in one direction?

I surely hope so, because my brain is struggling somewhat thinking about turning the steering wheel in the opposite direction to where I want the trailer to go. If I want to steer the trailer to the right, I need to turn my steering wheel left, and if I want the trailer to go left, I need to steer right. Right?

Honestly, if you’ve never done this before it really does seem as counterintuitive as patting your tummy while rubbing your back, all while standing on your head.

Fortunately, the BT-50’s screen and crystal-clear reversing camera mean I can easily see what’s going on behind me without spinning my neck around like an owl.

Still, it takes me a good few turns, driving back and forth, up and down the jetty, my trusty little friend swinging around behind me from right to left. But we get there eventually, reversing into the water in a perfectly straight line that leaves plenty of room for the car next to me to reverse its own trailer and boat into the water.

Then I set about releasing the jet ski from the trailer with the hand crank on the trailer jack. I feel like I’ve really achieved something.

Once the jet ski is in the water, and the car and trailer safely stationed in the carpark, It’s time to ditch my shoes and join my guide on the water, Cam, from Jet Ski Safaris NSW.

While you don’t need a boat license to ride a jet ski, you do need to undergo a fairly basic safety induction, which covers things like speed, awareness of your surroundings – and potential injury.

“Is it likely I’ll hurt myself riding one of these things?” I ask Cam, aware now that my faithful jet ski friend, the one I’ve just driven around on the back of my car and kept safe for the past hour or so, could actually betray me now that it’s the one supposed to be keeping me safe.

“No,” he says, not too convincingly. “But plenty of jelly fish do. They get smashed. You’ll see them bobbing about in the water. Sometimes we hit them and the water turns orange for a while. But then they reform, so it’s all good.”

I’m suddenly picturing scenes from Alien rather than Waterworld.

Right then. With that knowledge, I mount the jet ski and follow Cam out onto the river, thinking again of James Bond, the spy who keeps coming back. In some ways, he’s a bit like an invincible jellyfish.

Once Cam’s checked I've got the hang of the throttle, and we’re out of the cruising area near the marina, he’s suddenly off like a flash, his suntanned biceps disappearing into the river ahead. Cam did mention jet skiing was good for the arms.

I pull the lever down and follow his slipstream. I’m supposed to stay 100 metres behind him, but he’s well and truly ahead and I speed up to catch him. It’s both exhilarating and scary, particularly when I veer too far left and have to veer right to get back in line, which causes me to veer too far right and then I have to veer left again. A bit like my first few goes at reversing a trailer.

But it’s ridiculously fun and I find myself going faster and faster until I reach peak revs around 84km/h, which, on water, feels a bit like 840km/h.

Then a boat speeds by, causing a ripple in the water and suddenly I'm jumping all over the place, which is slightly terrifying. I grasp the handles even tighter, worried I’m about to fall in, but I don’t, and my biceps really are getting a workout now as we head further out onto the Hawkesbury on this glorious summer’s day.

Breezing past the Mooney Mooney Bridge, the wind in my hair, salt in my eyes, and whitewash splashing against my face, I really do feel like I’m in some sort of jet ski movie scene, like Mr Bond, or his female equivalent. (Surely the next 007 will be female?)

It’s great for one’s mental health, this jet skiing stuff. But all good things must come to an end (those poor jelly fish) and soon it's time to reload my trusty companion back onto the trailer attached to my BT-50, so we can drive back to Sydney.

Unlike reverse parking, driving the jet ski forward onto the trailer is actually super fun and easy. Once it’s lined up, it’s just a matter of gliding it into place, then winding the hand crank once again. 

Once we’re loaded, it’s thanks and farewell to my friends at the marina, and we set off home. Driving on the road feels strange after driving a jet ski. My arms feel very light and the seat is so soft. There’s nothing I can’t handle now and I’m eagerly wondering what else I can do with the BT-50 to Give It Heaps.