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“Oil’s fine.
Let’s rock and roll,” Berry said at last. I lowered the engine
hatch with the flick of a Carling toggle and turned the ignition keys
above the standard Raytheon 210 VHF, an excellent radio with a ruggedized
metal case. Vavavavooom! The MerCruisers burst into a guttural tribute
to internal combustion. Clutching ahead, with the throttles at dead idle,
I eased the 360 out of the slip toward the open lake and brought her up
on plane. There was no way I could judge the rough-water capabilities
of the 22-degree running surface given the prevailing placidity, but I
did form an opinion about her flat-water performance: It was literally
head-snatching, in part because of the weight reduction inherent in the
use of Kevlar in the hull, but also because of the added low-end oomph
typical of Bravo Three drives and the smooth steering control that comes
about when power-assist is part of the package.
As soon as I had the
race-bred running surface loping along at two-thirds throttle, with the
Captain’s Call turned off, drives trimmed out to the brink of aeration,
tabs set straight back, and the bow aimed at an ersatz Italian villa on
the woodsy shoreline a couple miles away, I panned my instruments, took
a deep breath, and firewalled the throttles. Before I had a chance to
let out a decent Rebel yell, we were doing more than 58 mph, a rousing
rate of travel, although I was a little disappointed with a foible that
announced itself close to top speed.
“She porpoises
a bit,” I said to Berry, once I’d confirmed my observation
with a couple more wide-open bursts, each with slightly altered trim and
tab settings. He acknowledged my opinion, adding that a new mold for the
360’s hull was in the works, one that is intended to remove some
of the rocker in the chines that is the suspected cause of the problem.
Besides, prototypical test boats like ours, Berry added, are bound to
exhibit a flaw or two.
Rocker or no, we subsequently
spent an hour or so on the lake, carving high-speed turns and figure-eights
and otherwise having a speed-demony ball. At length, of course, we had
to return to the marina for an examination of the 360’s layout and
construction, a chore that neither of us figured was going to be quite
so exciting as tooling around the lake.
The exam was pretty
interesting, though. It started with a paradox. While the 360’s
interior layout is plain-ol’ conventional sportboat—a convertible
U-shape lounge in the bow, small galley and enclosed head in the saloon,
and midcabin aft—the styling is warm and sophisticated, although
the overall effect in our case was marred by finishing flaws of the sort
common to prototypes. Some of the stylish ambiance came from the Corian
countertops, the impeccably varnished panels and doors, the cedar-lined
hanging lockers, and the earth-tone fabrics. The rest came from high-end
equipage on our boat, like the VacuFlush MSD, optional Sony flat-screen
TV, and Sony AM/FM stereo with optional subwoofer and 10-disc CD changer.
The 360’s construction
was what you’d expect from a boat with a 10-year transferable hull
and deck warranty: an all-glass stringer system, Nida-Core reinforced
cabin and cockpit soles, composite transom with structural-foam core,
keel and chine laminations strengthened with a Kevlar/E-glass hybrid for
improved impact resistance, hull and deck laid up with expensive AME 1000
vinylester resin, and in-the-gelcoat graphics.
Hey, I know that 58.3
mph is not exactly an edge-dwelling velocity. But on the other hand, it
ain’t bad, especially for a five-ton performance cruiser a small
family can overnight or even weekend on. And speed is, after all, speed.
So when Berry and I’d finished checking out the 360 dockside, including
perusals of the rugged, stainless steel windshield supports and the artistically
finished aluminum radar arch, I suggested we do just a little more fast-forward
time out on the water. Just in case my next chance was a long way off.
Cobalt Boats
(316) 325-2653. Fax: (316) 325-2361. www.cobaltboats.com.
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