Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SUNDAY, February 28, 1993 TAG: 9302280047
SECTION: SPORTS PAGE: D14 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: Bill Cochran
DATELINE: LENGTH: Medium
SPRING FEVER WINS OUT AT BOAT SHOW
A giant wrestling match between winter and spring was the featured attraction Saturday at the Roanoke Civic Center. Everyone knew which would win, but it was fun watching the struggle.Outside the building a snowscape spoke elegantly of winter, but inside, where the Southwest Virginia Boat Show was moored, was like a cocoon holding spring.
Spring, of course, is destined to pry loose from the icy grip of winter in this metamorphic match. Maybe it won't win this weekend. Maybe not next. But soon, because the turnout for the show was positive and boats were being bought, like seeds in brightly colored packages out of which warm-season fun will sprout.
I'm the kind of guy boat dealers like to see coming through the turnstile. My boat is exactly 20 years old.
That places me in a category that dealers call "pent up demand." It is trade-in time. But I go determined to be tough.
Boat shows are odd, if you let yourself think about them. Where else do you pay $1 to park and another $4 to get inside the door so a bunch of pros can take a crack at convincing you that you ought to spend another $20,000 before you leave.
Be aware that the salesmanship is subtle. It is done with illusions that include jet boats, runabouts, sailboats, fishing boats, deck boats, all with a heavy punch of power hanging on the stern and dazzling colors that glitter in the spotlights.
You walk through an acre of boats determined not to be swayed, telling yourself that 20 years really isn't all that old for a boat. But your immunity begins to break down when you stand behind the controls of a center console, your fingers touching the layout of toggle switches, your mind flooded with visions of spring, the snow outside melting. It is something called boat-show fever.
Before long, you are looking at price tags. That's when you are reminded that boats don't just tug at your heart, they reach down much farther than that and clamp onto your pocketbook.
I purchased my 16-foot Arrowglass fishing boat on March 1, 1973, for $2,217.45. That included the 65-hp engine and trailer. I traded in a 1969 Terry bass boat for it.
Boats are a good bit like pet dogs that grace your life for a brief period, then pass on, but aren't forgotten. That's why we give them names. It is a way of justifying the unjustifiable.
I'll always have fond memories of the bow-operated Terry, with its powerful 25-hp outboard, electric Motor-Guide up front and Jim Stick steering. It was one of the first bass boats in these parts. People would gather around when I launched it.
Nobody has taken a second look at one of my boats for a long while. They soon may. I'm not going to be surprised when someone at a launching ramp shouts, "Hey, Buddy! That's quite an antique you got there."
Nothing will deflate the spell of a boat show quicker that the reality of a sticker price. Prices always outdistance dreams.
It doesn't hurt to look, though. My show stroll determines that a boat to replace the one I own would cost a minimum of $15,000.
Now, let's see, if I were to take my tax refund and maybe keep the car a few years longer and eat peanut butter sandwiches more often, I could . . .
The boat show will be open 10 a.m. to 6 p.m. today.