He called himself the “Great Garabaldi’’ — the world-famous magician extraordinaire.

“You ever heard of me?’’ he asked. A kid seated at the rear of the duck boat blurted “No!’’ as passengers burst into laughter.

But over an 80-minute tour Wednesday, the veteran driver for Boston Duck Tours pulled off something of a magic trick, at once entertaining passengers and pointing out historical landmarks while navigating a large amphibious vehicle through busy city streets.

The fatal crash involving a duck boat last weekend has raised questions about the safety of the vehicles and whether the drivers, who double as tour guides, are too distracted to notice fast-changing traffic conditions.

Standing by the driver’s station, Garabaldi removed his purple top hat and wig before performing several magic tricks, at one point turning two $1 bills into a $2 bill. He had worked as a magician before becoming a tour guide, he said.

“I jumped off the Harvard bridge, blindfolded and handcuffed,’’ he joked. “I landed on one of these ducks and went to Mass. General Hospital. . . . Duck Tours felt so bad they hired me as your driver.’’

But Garabaldi was more than a driver. He was a juggler of sorts, rattling off historical facts while steering his boat, Beantown Betty, through traffic.

“There’s the oldest fire station in Boston,’’ he said as the duck boat rolled onto Boylston Street. He turned his head to the left and motioned toward the station as the vehicle moved down the road.

“There’s the Hynes Convention Center on your right,’’ he said.

Garabaldi’s head remained on a swivel. His eyes darted up at a rear mirror, where he would glance at passengers, then back to the street and the city’s monuments. He carried out the entire act with ease.

A friendly sort, he referred to passengers by the city or country they were from. I was New York, and the trio next to me was France. Behind me to the left was a couple; they were Springfield.

“Nice to meet you, Germany,’’ Garabaldi said to a man sitting by himself toward the back.

Garabaldi never missed a step. As soon as he finished relaying a fact about a statue, church, or some other historical monument, he went back to working the crowd.

“[Dr. Zabdiel Boylston] started the first inoculation of smallpox in Boston in the early 1700s. Anyone ever catch smallpox?’’ he quipped.

No one raised a hand.

“That’s good,’’ he said.

Two large side mirrors jutted out from the operator’s station, while a small camera on the right side showed the street and traffic near the driver's right wheel. There was no camera on the driver’s side.

The company said each vehicle has eight mirrors.

He said the company has 28 vehicles in its fleet, including one WWII vehicle that is used only in parades. The vehicles are nearly 12 feet tall.

The boat rolled past Copley Place, Arts Square, and the Arlington Street Church. It came along Charles Street near the Boston Common, the oldest public park in America, Garabaldi said.

When we reached the corner of Charles and Beacon streets, where the fatal accident happened, we sat at a red light, towering over the cars below.

He turned the corner and slowly passed a box of flowers that had been left in memory of Allison Warmuth, the driver of the scooter killed in the crash. One of the French tourists stared at it from the window, as Garabaldi continued up the road.

Jan Ransom can be reached at jan.ransom@globe.com. Follow her on Twitter at @Jan_Ransom.