Sound of a cigarette boat

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Ben and Meghan smiled, waving at their compatriots and giving them some good-natured ribbing. The AMGCR Top Gun Electric Drive is a remarkably successful design effort, which is perhaps as impressive a technology demonstrator as has appeared in boating in recent years.

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How true could this misbegotten reputation bestowed on the Ozarks and Cigarette owners possibly be? As for the Lake of the Ozarks, though the evangelical billboards that dot the region would disagree, it was dammednot damned into existence. Its immense, serpentine shape is a feat of human engineering; at 1, miles, it has more shoreline than the entire state of California.

The small-scale replica on the floor looked like spilled ink: its body twisting this way and that, with what looked like legs jutting out in every direction. I stared, trying to make sense of it. Like a Rorschach test, I saw what I wanted to see. My future. A terrible collision. My death. A centipede. Trying to shake such dark thoughts, I rented a car and drove miles north to the real thing. Golf courses and billboards advertising a variety of liquor sprang up on either side of the road.

I parked my rental where I would be staying for the next three daysMargaritaville Lake Resort, the most recent edifice dedicated to the parrothead lifestyle. Outside, the heat was stifling. Nevertheless, business professionals in conference attire stood smoking in front of a giant sculpture of a thong sandal.

Families with towels hanging around their necks and flip flops smacking the asphalt walked to and from the pool. Buffett had broken me. Twelve hours before the fun run was to begin, I was bellied up at the bar. Clouds of mosquitoes blanketed the air. To my left, a couple took the empty chairs. They had arrived by boat, a Rinker , and quickly exhibited that good-natured Midwestern attitude.

We exchanged introductions. Originally from St. Louis, Mark and Sandy Beck had bought a house in the Ozarks in Mark was a chiropractor; Sandy a realtor. I told them the reason I was out here. Naturally, the conversation shifted to the Lake of the Ozarks Shootout, and the daredevils who have set records or perished competing.

Mark had his own story to share. One of his patients, a former Shootout racer, had recently invited him out on his Fountain with twin staggered Mercury engines, ITS sterndrives and racing props. After they finished hitting close to 90 mph, his patient asked him if he had any interest in buying one. Eventually we said our goodbyes. In the morning, I watched Jimmy Buffett paddleboard across a languid sea. He vanished. In his place, a beautiful strawberry-lemon sunset stained the horizon.

This was not the Ozarks. He wore a golf shirt and baseball cap. It was from the guy next to him with an elaborate sleeve tattoo. The two fist bumped. For a brief second, I wondered if we happened to be in a Bud Light commercial. I found Performance Boat Center tucked away in a cove on the lake.

It was a large, cuboid, 15, square-foot showroom with a service center and paint shop, both equally massive. Closer to the water, I recognized its neighbor from one of the stops in the itinerary, the Redhead Lakeside Grill. In the Ozarks, most boaters have memorized places on the water by their mile marker, which is the going measuring tool.

Redheads was at mile marker When I arrived on the docks, people were already manning their torpedoes. Over a hundred Cigarettes were tied up out front. Ranging in every conceivable shape and size, color and power option, the armada was ready: full of eager owners and their kin. Engines growled and spat and rumbled. Though Cigarette founder Don Aronow, the legendary offshore racer, likely never made it to the Ozarks, his spirit pervades in a flotilla of these machines.

We followed the pack as they meandered up the inlet to their starting formations. I scanned the crowd. Some were shirtless or in bikinis. There were families aboard, couples, young and old at the helm. Like their owners, no two Cigarettes were alike. The range of paint jobs were a kaleidoscope of flames, primary colors, racing stripes, American flags and electric bursts.

From his 38 Top Gunthat would be sold later that afternoonBrett Manire, co-owner of Performance Boat Center, held aloft a checkered race flag. He gave the signal, which might as well have been pressing a blinking red button in a bunker somewhere far underground. Like a barrage of missiles, the first wave took off. Watching them go, my blood started pumping, my heart raced in anticipation. The screaming of engines had barely diminished before he waved the flag a second time.

Suddenly, around 50 of us were in a dead sprint. We were loud, with the fleet spread out as much as possible along the narrow waterway. Each missile finding enough space to maneuver, all aiming for one target. I held on tight to the cockpit seat.

It was still early, and oncoming traffic was blessedly minimal. That is, aside from a single, kamikaze-like cabin cruiser that blew past us going the opposite direction. Dispersing both groups at the right time is key. He waved it off. The sound is gone, and with it some of the fury. Stu Jones, the founder of the Florida Powerboat Club, was nevertheless nostalgic. He talked about his first fun run like it was a religious experience.

He was It was the late 80s, and he was in Canada of all places. At least for me. Each boat seemed an extension of the owner, but not in the way you might expect. Repeat Offender had married, divorced and remarried the same woman. Sweet Energy was the CEO of a large construction company that builds power plants. And Moore Ammo was the owner of an auto body shop and boat repair company in Rogers, Arkansas. His real name was Ben Moore.

It was there that the rowdiness kicked up a notchor five, or nine. Ben was shirtless, wide-eyed, with a barrel chest, shaved head and sharp features. He had the look of a man who climbed into the MMA Octagon for work each day. Shots were flowing, and the group crowded around the packed outdoor bar.

Nearby, there were enough kids playing by the beachside to fill a kindergarten class. She explained their group had ordered an extra vodka soda garnished with a pink straw. But a number of other boats registered fit the size, brand and price range, if not the brand name, including those made by Donzi, a company Aronow also founded. The boats can range in price from tens of thousands to hundreds of thousands of dollars, depending on size and make.

But some are too loud and fast for urban freshwater environments, Grady said. According to state law, a boat built before July 25, , must generate fewer than 90 decibels when it is not moving. A boat built after Jan. Any boat in motion on a plane on the water cannot exceed 75 decibels, which is often compared to the sound of city traffic as heard from inside a car. Amy Roe: or aroe seattletimes. Share story. By Amy Roe.

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100+ Offshore Racing Boats Accelerating! The 38 Top Gun has been the icon of the Cigarette line for over 25 years with good reason - timeless style and perfect performance. Each rendition has been. Cigarette boats are some of the most absolutely badass watercraft you'll ever come across on any body of water. They're long and sleek and. We don't just build a boat, we create your Cigarette. Each Cigarette is customized for the owner's size, color preferences, comfort options and personalization.

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