DREAM BOAT

All I want is two seats and a console. Why is that so hard?

My 25-foot Mako with a pair of 150s—a boat many considered the best in its day—cost me $19,000 brand-new.

I’ve been searching for two seats and a console, but have been stuck in the wayback machine. What was once called a utility boat became a center-console in the 1960s. A blend of woven roving, mat and polyester resin, the center-console was a handrolled wonder. There were just a few brands, and if you can find one today, it’s likely on life support. I shared my obsession with a sales pal for a reality check. It didn’t help. ¶ Bill is my vintage, and he shares my passion for center-consoles. He has two waterfront homes with docks, and keeps two seats and a console at each one. He buys them factory-fresh with full warranties and trades them in every few years like leased pickups. I think he’s lost count of the numbers. ¶ While he claims his system works, the math bugs me. I understand the benefits of new boats, motors and warranties, but the prices—yikes. I’ve done my best to understand the modern markup, but it’s hopeless. I walked past a boat store just the other day and eyeballed a late-model, pre-loved, 30ish-foot example with a pair of supersize outboards. My ogling came to an end when I focused on the price tag pasted on its transom: just shy of $400,000. ¶ I called Bill to rant about the unfairness of it all. “My 25-foot Mako with a pair of 150s—a boat many considered the best in its day— cost me $19,000 brand-new, for God’s sake,” I groused. “I could have bought 20 of them for that kind of money. ¶ “Its day was 1980,” Bill replied. “I hear this sort of thing all the time from experienced boaters.” ¶ Ouch! In yacht-sales tongue, “experienced boater” is code. ¶ “Yeah, I know,” I said. “I have more good days behind me than ahead of me, but that’s not the point.” ¶ “Seriously, Coyle, when was the last time you bought a new boat?” he asked. “They’re not slathered together with a mop and a bucket of resin anymore. Today’s buyers insist on flawless finishes, high-tech materials, and plenty of horsepower and electronics.” ¶ “Yes, yes, I know,” I told him. “They’re hard to miss. They’re everywhere.” ¶ “You’re cheap, Coyle,” Bill said. I reminded him of the losses I’d suffered in past restorations. “It’s really not the money; it’s the value,” I insisted. “Classic center-consoles have a certain mystique. They’re different.” ¶ I returned to the wayback machine and forwarded Bill my findings. “Take a look,” I said. “You don’t see one of these above water every day. It’s a rare ride.” ¶ A few moments passed in silence. “Are you still there, Bill? Did you get it?” ¶ “Yeah, I got it,” he said. “I get it, and I got one,” he admitted as he texted me an image of a small boat’s soggy remains. ¶ It was the leftovers of a 20foot Bertram center-console and...a cow? “It’s in a pasture in North Florida,” he said. “I bought it for $1,400 sight unseen. It just needs a bit of freshening up.” ¶ Really? And I thought I had a problem.