HINCKLEY TALARIA 34 RUNABOUT TESTED
The open version of the lege ndary waterjet powered Picnic Boat is a thing of rare beauty but what is it like to drive? We borrow one for the day
This open version of the iconic waterjetpowered Picnic Boat is as American as apple pie and even more enjoyable
Not many motor boats can justifiably lay claim to iconic status. Other than the Riva Aquarama you’d be hard pressed to muster a unanimous agreement for any other leisure boat. But one craft you could easily build a compelling case for is the Hinckley Picnic Boat. This is the boat that not only put waterjets on the map and set the template for all future Downeast-style commuter/lobster boats, but arguably kickstarted the hardtop revolution as well.
Hinckley launched its first water-jet powered Picnic Boat in 1994 and has since gone on to build over 1,000 examples in multiple sizes and configurations. And yet despite this extraordinary success, Hinckley remains relatively unknown outside its home market of the US. The strength of the dollar, the weakness of the pound and the EU’S 20 per cent tariff on Us-built boats certainly don’t help but the real reason Hinckley isn’t too fussed about exports is simply because it’s busy fulfilling orders closer to home.
One man who’s determined to change that is Hinckley’s first and only European sales director, Innes Mcgowan, and to make his point he’s brought a couple of boats over to the UK for customers to sea trial. Given that we always try to test boats according to how their customers are likely to use them,
I propose a day trip from his base at Swanwick Marina to the Needles, to test its cruising potential, followed by a stopover in Newtown Creek on the Isle of Wight, where we can drop the hook and enjoy the very thing it was made for – a picnic. Innes is happy to oblige but given that the sun is out, suggests we take the open Runabout version of the Talaria 34 rather than the hardtop model. Whatever, so long as we can still have a picnic!
STYLE ICON
Even though I’ve seen dozens of photographs of Hinckleys,
I can’t help but let slip a little sigh of appreciation when I first clap eyes on the R34. Much like a Riva Aquarama there is something about it that instinctively appeals to anyone with an ounce of salt in their veins. The varnished teak cockpit, heavily flared bow, tumblehome stern and stainless steel details speak a universal language that transcends fashions and borders. It even renders obsolete any lingering rivalry between sail and power – raggies and stinkies seem drawn to it in equal measure.
It’s not just the style that sucks people in, it’s the craftsmanship that so obviously goes into making each and every boat. The finish of the topsides is so smooth and glossy I swear you could shave yourself in the reflection, while the wood seems to glow with an internal fire of its own. And in case you’re wondering how they manage to make the lettering on the transom glisten like gold, the answer is simple; they use the real deal – 22 carat gold leaf on vinyl-backed lettering, to be precise. This, along with your Awlgrip paint colour of choice is all part of a long list of standard equipment that goes some way to explaining a base price of $765,000 ex VAT.
Gob suitably smacked, I settle into the helm seat to see if the driving experience lives up to those lofty numbers. Once again the initial impressions are all pretty overwhelming. The helm seat feels more like a throne than a mere chair. It is, how can I put this politely, of a size and stature well suited to the ‘typical’ American frame with electric adjustment for height and reach, plenty of padding, folding armrest and a flip-up bolster all trimmed in the owner’s choice of soft and very convincing faux leather (the real stuff doesn’t like getting wet). The wheel has a thick teak rim with four pairs of stainless steel spokes so that it looks and feels like the wheel of a vintage Bentley. You sit facing an imposing arc of yet more teak, housing an array of analogue dials around a single Garmin MFD. The standard Yanmar throttles are presented on yet another plinth of teak, so you don’t have to stretch to reach them, and even the bespoke Hinckley joystick is hewn from more of the precious wood. Oh, and just in case you haven’t got the message by now, the stainless steel windscreen frame is also capped with a teak grabrail shaped to fit your hand as you make your way along the sidedecks.
THE JET SET
Pootling downstream past riverside mansions with lush green lawns bathed in late summer sun accompanied by the gentle burble of twin underwater exhausts, the R34 feels perfectly in its element. I’ve driven a few jet boats in my time and I am not normally a big fan of them. The lack of sterngear means they tend to perform well at wide open throttle but can be tricky to handle at lower speeds and seem to require a lot of revs even when loping along at a cruising gait. Not this one. Whether it’s the civilised nature of the 320hp Yanmar 8LV engines, the engineering of the Hamilton jets or Hinckley’s well insulated installation, the end result is a remarkably civilised drivetrain that rarely intrudes on proceedings. You could step into this boat and drive it away not realising it was on jets. Hinckley’s proprietary Jet Stick III system is a key part of this, taking away the stress of trying to juggle throttles, steering and the standard hydraulic bow thruster and making potentially awkward berthing manoeuvres point-and-go simple. The GPS geo-lock function also nullifies the tendency for jet boats to get blown around and enables it to hold its course better at displacement speeds without the constant minor steering adjustments you’d otherwise need. In short it’s every bit as relaxing to helm as its cossetting seating suggests.
Once out in the Solent it’s time to up the pace and see if it has the performance to back up its Runabout status. As with all Hinckleys the hull uses a carbon Kevlar construction with a foam core and epoxy resin infusion for strength and lightness. It’s hard to find a direct comparison but that makes it a little heavier than the smaller 33ft Aquariva Super but usefully lighter than the larger 39ft Rivamare. The performance reflects that, romping along through the usual Solent chop at a very comfortable 27 knots. A bit like driving a Range Rover or an old school Bentley Continental, you feel slightly aloof from the action; the steering is surprisingly light but a little vague, engine noise is well suppressed and the hull feels so solid that you seem to waft along above it all, one-step removed from the hurly burly beneath. There’s even a beautifully engineered quarter light section of sidescreen next to the helm that pushes open to let a bit more air in like a classic 60s sportscar.
To see how it copes in more challenging conditions we push on out to the Needles, noting that there’s barely any penalty to pay in fuel consumption between taking it easy at 20 knots (3.2 litres per mile) and pressing on at 28 knots (3.3 lpm). In the
bigger swell, the 19° deadrise hull does start to land more heavily, sending huge sheets of spray careening off its heavily flared bow. The tall screen manages to keep most of us dry most of the time and however wet it gets the hull still feels remarkably solid and capable.
HAMPER TIME
In truth this kind of driving behaviour feels unbecoming of a Hinckley owner so I point the bow round and make a beeline for the entrance to Newtown Creek. This narrow, sheltered inlet east of Yarmouth is a rural haven for boats in search of a quiet anchorage but it’s also notoriously shallow and muddy. The lack of exposed propellers means the Hinckley draws less than 2ft so we push to the head of the inlet where only sportsboats half our size dare to venture. Innes takes the helm while I shimmy along the guardrail-free sidedecks, wedging my feet against the 3in teak toe rails, to help unfold the anchor from its bow locker. Once set, the ladies crack open the bubbly and distribute a veritable feast of treats. With four deep corner seats to nestle into, it’s a sociable but also very comfortable layout, even if the cockpit table arrived too late for our excursion. We even erect the standard electric bimini shade concealed beneath the teak cockpit surround. It’s all so very civilised. Perhaps the ultimate expression of this is the heads compartment. Located, as it should be, in the bow you could be forgiven for wondering where the toilet is, until you realise it’s hidden behind a lacquered cover. Clearly, the toilet is simply too ugly to be left on public display! There is a small saloon down here too with a couple of opposing benches that make up to a double berth, should you wish to overnight, but the lack of a proper galley and limited space in the cockpit icebox and wet bar bear testament to its true vocation as a day boat.
VERDICT
The run back to Swanwick gives me a chance to stretch its legs up to 32 knots and ponder on the R34’s merits. It would make a fabulous boat day boat for the Solent or the Med and feels equally at home pootling up rivers as it does blasting across azure blue seas. Above all it makes you feel special. That imperious helm position, refined drivetrain and unburstable hull give a sense of occasion that few boats can match, while the loving craftsmanship that goes into every dovetail joint and coat of lacquer help justify the price. After all it’s in the same ballpark as a Princess R35, Sunseeker Hawk 38 or Riva Aquarama and stands comparison with any of them. That said I would probably still opt for the hard top Picnic Boat version if only to extend the pleasure all year round . Besides if you’re going to buy into an icon you might as well go for the original and the best.
CONTACT Hinckley Yachts Tel +44 (0)1489 532010; www.hinckleyyacts.com
That imperious helm, refined drivetrain and unburstable hull give a real sense of occasion