A Marquis Event
The Marquis 630 is a boat that is as responsive as it is elegant. She can ably take your party out to sea, and then get you back home where you’ll be able to slip into a tightly packed dock thanks to her highly functional Volvo Penta IPS joystick. Construction: While docking the Marquis 630 [...]
The Marquis 630 is a boat that is as responsive as it is elegant. She can ably take your party out to sea, and then get you back home where you’ll be able to slip into a tightly packed dock thanks to her highly functional Volvo Penta IPS joystick.
While docking the Marquis 630 during my sea trial, I couldn’t help but marvel at the sense of control that resulted from using her IPS joystick, despite occasional buffeting from wind gusts. “I guess it’s because the props are big and the engines have so much low-end torque,” I opined to my boatmate, Steve Martin, a local Marquis dealer.
Martin paused and grinned. The maneuvering smoothness I was enjoying, he then suggested, was also seriously bolstered by an almost total lack of low-end drive rumble and the noise that goes with it. A new, standard-issue feature from Volvo called Clean Wake Exhaust System or CWES, he continued, was automatically rerouting much of the 630’s idle-speed exhaust from her drive units to a set of muffler-equipped hullside relief ports aft and above the waterline, an arrangement that was both smoothifying and hushifying our docking experience.
While investigating the ER I noted some truly standout engineering details. For starters, there were the blower mounts—to obviate vibration and related structural fatigue, each Rule In-Line blower motor was secured to a thick strap of reinforced rubber firmly stretched across a solidly secured bracket. A minor detail perhaps, but also one of the most thoughtful installations of its type I’ve seen in some time. And then there was the superb access to the drive units and jackshafts that lay on either side of the crew’s quarters hallway—removable panels had been installed to facilitate routine fluid checks and other maintenance chores.
Although Martin and I followed up our tour of the engine room with an enjoyable walkthrough of the 630’s elegant, Nuvolari Lenard-designed interior, highlighted by residentially tiled shower stalls in the ample heads, precisely joined satin-walnut surfaces in the accommodation spaces (with herringbone-patterned cherry doors), California-king-size pillow-top mattresses in the master and VIP (and smaller innersprings in the other staterooms as well), and a full complement of LED lights, a cloud of omission continued to overhang the day. More to the point, earlier that morning, we’d failed to get accurate performance data on the boat due to exceptionally bad weather offshore, a development that made it necessary to schedule another sea trial.
As luck would have it, conditions on the coastal Atlantic were spectacular during my test, with light to variable winds and soothingly smooth seas. Martin and I went through the testing procedure at the 630’s upper helm, enjoying a clear view ahead coming out of the hole, straight-forward tracking, optimum running attitudes (despite some sticky actuators on our Lectrotab trim tabs), and swoopy but sensible turns that were sweetly banked even with the helm hardover. Sound levels were modest although they were considerably higher than those I’d recorded earlier at the lower helm (63 decibels at 1000 rpm and 74 decibesl at WOT), most likely due to the effects of water and wind noise.
As we zoomed past the Port Everglades sea buoy, en route back to our slip at the Pier 66 Marina, the water glowed like a stretch of Bahamas shallows. The colors were frankly remarkable, perhaps the prettiest I’ve ever seen along the Florida coast. And riding the Marquis 630 Sport Yacht—a finely engineered, expertly crafted, elegantly designed performance cruiser—into the channel was a flat-out joyful exercise.
“What a day,” observed Martin with a grin.
“Yeah,” I concurred, looking around, “What a day indeed.”