|
You don’t get to ride in a Riva every day. It’s not that they’re scarce, exactly. In the six years since the first of the “new” Rivas, the Aquariva runabout, came out, the company has launched no fewer than eight other new models. But demand appears to be outstripping supply to such a degree that few boats hang around long enough for mere journalists to get a hold of them.
So to turn up at La Spezia, Italy, on a crisp February morning and see a brand-new 63 Vertigo waiting at the quay is kind of a special moment. In Europe the Riva name carries cache like no other. There isn’t a boatbuilder anywhere that can claim such positive brand associations as this one, which became so indelibly associated with the high life during the heady 1950’s and 1960’s. And they know it.
a d v e r t i s e m e n t
|
The current custodian, the giant Italian Ferretti Group, is happy to trade on the boatyard’s sun-kissed mahogany past. And why not? If you had pictures of a 25-year-old Brigitte Bardot decorating one of your boats, you’d be damn silly not to use them. Ferretti hasn’t taken a wrong step. Since acquiring Riva in 2000, it has firmly re-established the company with a range of retro-style craft, starting with that sublime Aquariva, a model designed to evoke the elegance of the famous wooden Aquarama and conceived during the brief regime of Anglo-Italian entrepreneur Stephen Julius, now of Chris-Craft. The new boats look right, they go, they’re reassuringly expensive, and they sell. Riva’s past has been reinvented in fiberglass.
If there is a downside to owning such an evocative brand, it’s in managing customer expectations. The old mahogany runabouts, so beloved of the Riviera jet set, really did come about as close to perfection as production boats can. They epitomized not just style and glamor, but also handmade quality. They had a magic that only comes from thousands of hours of painstaking craftsmanship.
Yet today’s Riva is built in the modern way. It has to be. It’s no good looking for handmade dovetail joints, brass piano hinges, and nine coats of varnish applied by hand because no one can afford to build production boats like that anymore. Still, to judge from some of the work going on in the sheds at La Spezia—the careful filling, fairing, and painting of every new hull, fresh out of the mold—Riva maintains an obsessive attitude toward quality that few other boatyards share. And there was certainly something magic about the styling of my 63 moored at the quay.
There’s nothing retro about it. The Vertigo follows on from 2005’s menacing, dark-hued 68 Ego and is as modern and aggressive as any sport cruiser on the market. It’s a look that promises performance, and the 63 packs a hefty punch: 24 cylinders of Nurnberg’s finest heavy metal, offering more than 2,700 hp. But don’t look for jets or surface drives—there are certain traditions that Riva still stands for, and shaft drives, for the moment at least, are sacrosanct.
Out on the water the Vertigo delivers on her promise: More than 40 knots (46 mph) in a straight line is right at the edge of the envelope for this drive configuration, and the way she gets there is nothing short of spectacular. I normally time acceleration in 5-knot increments, but once the turbos kicked in and the props bit, the Vertigo was too fast for that. Five seconds between 20 knots and 30 is as quick as I’ve seen outside a raceboat.
Of course you need fairly modest bottom sections for this, and the Vertigo’s 12-degree transom deadrise deepens only mildly towards the forefoot, which felt pretty unforgiving on the few waves we managed to find. You probably won’t be trying for 40 knots upwind in any kind of sea. The helm was light and responsive, and the Vertigo banked willingly, but at around 250 yards her turning circle was surprisingly wide.
And what of her sybaritic side? The old Rivas went well, but they also offered luxury. The new Vertigo is clearly a hot performer, and down below features a pleasing combination of near-black wenge hardwood and contrasting pale oak, with dark, leather-clad bulkheads, white upholstery, and a spectacular eight-seat, glass-top dining table. It’s rich without being gloomy, thanks to substantial windows in the topsides to bring daylight into the saloon and galley as well as a series of ports and, of course, a glazed foredeck hatch.
|
PAGES:
|
1
|
|
 |
|