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My day onboard Tiara Yachts' new flagship, the 5800 Sovran, began unusually on two counts. First, thanks to a contest-winning letter that sincerely and super-entertainingly described why he'd like to take part in a real-deal boat test, Power & Motoryacht reader David Young of Aurora, Canada, was walking down the dock beside me, helping carry the test gear. And second, the 5800 prototype that was tied stern-to in a slip at the Tiara Yachting Center on the picturesque shores of Lake Macatawa in Holland, Michigan, seemed so darn immense that a momentary silence fell over both of us, followed by two telling remarks:
"She's giant!" I said, letting an appreciative eye slowly descend from the 4-kW Raymarine radar antenna towering above us, over the swept-back curves of the enclosed hardtop, the beefy but jewel-like rubrail, and finally down along a hull side that was as creamy smooth as it was vast, resolute, and seemingly immobile.
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"Yeah, Bill," concurred Young as he handed a well-traveled Pelican case off to Tiara's marketing rep, Dave Walsh, standing on the swim platform. "She's a bit larger than what I'm used to, I'd have to say."
We began checking things out immediately. And the immensity we'd picked up on while appraising the 5800's sleek exterior clearly predominated everywhere else, particularly in the machinery spaces, accessed via a cockpit hatch with gas-assisted cylinders. Talk about elbowroom!
Once Young and I'd entered the engine room, Walsh came down, too, along with Evan Dufendach, the Tiara captain whose main job is to familiarize new 5800 owners—and 5800 owners only—with their boats. Although all of us are of average or above-average height, there was still plenty of room to sit around talking about the top-shelf engineering details that were nearby, including a veritable arsenal of AGM batteries (eight engine start and eight service), a standard genset and air-conditioning system, high-end Victron battery chargers, and a FRP fuel tank. Of course, the primary reason for the expansiveness was the 5800's extraordinary propulsion package: three 435-mhp Volvo Penta IPS 600 pod drives. Walsh said their compactness engenders so much extra space that Tiara plans to offer future versions with another stateroom (or crew quarters) just abaft the engine room's forward firewall.
Once we'd exited the machinery spaces, Young and I discovered there was way more to the 5800's interior than mere elbowroom and savvy engineering particulars. To begin with, natural light was an obvious priority. We stood near the raised helm station—a few steps above the saloon to our rear and the windshield-brightened "Sky Galley" with its adjoining lounge/dinette area some steps below—as Walsh noted, "This boat offers approximately 57 percent more natural light than our previous flagship, the 52." I glanced about, at the electric sunroof overhead, the panorama of doors and windows circumscribing the saloon, and the sunlight streaming down from a Bomar deck hatch into the galley, and nodded at the statistic.
Then there was the solid, Midwestern craftsmanship Tiara's justly known for. As we toured the 5800's below-decks accommodation spaces, with a VIP beyond the galley/dinette area (that has private access to the day/guest head to port) and full-beam master aft (with en suite head and molded-in hull-side windows for extra light), we noted a remarkable level of finish. Decks were finely laid with real teak planks, not artificial ones. Berths were oversize, with cushy innerspring mattresses. Kohler faucets and other plumbing fixtures were classy and robust. Teak joinery was flawless, and solid brand names were everywhere, from the Denon entertainment electronics in the saloon to the Vitrifrigo refrigerator /freezer drawers in the galley.
"All this is great," said Young somewhat impatiently as I counted the scads of lights in the master, "but what about the actual sea trial?"
I grinned at Walsh. I, too, was interested in seeing how the 5800 would perform, especially in dockside maneuvers. After all, I had a fair understanding of how marine engineers got vessels with even numbers of computerized pod drives to walk sideways and do other tricks, but what about an odd number? What about that third, asymmetrical unit?
Dufendach fired up the three engines and then promptly laid the question to rest. When handled dockside, he explained, the central IPS unit would drop out of the picture, so to speak, leaving the two outboard units to run the show. "Check out our wake," he advised, nodding over his shoulder. "And you'll see only two propeller streams at maneuvering speeds, not three."
Once we'd reached Lake Michigan, the wind slackened off and the sea turned pancake flat. With Young holding the clipboard as I stood on a helm seat and rather breezily shot radar-gun speeds out the sunroof (windshields render radar return inaccurate, in my opinion), we recorded a respectable top hop of 38.9 mph. Handling was radical. Whether it was Young (with a smile on his face as wide as the wilds of his native Ontario) or me at the helm, the 5800 swooped into tight, highly banked turns with the vivacity of an after-burning fighter plane. Visibility ahead—and everywhere else, for that matter—was excellent at all running angles. And sound and vibration levels were modest, not only because of the sound-absorbence inherent in a resin-infused, balsa-cored hull (and hand-laid balsa-cored deck), but also because of the big O-ring isolators cushioning our three IPS pods and the soft IPS mounts on the engines.
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