Malibu Wakesetter XTi
Wakeboard fanatics rejoice you've never seen anything like the Malibu Wakesetter XTi.
February 1, 2002
The day after a storm is always amazing. The air's clean and clear enough for you to see halfway to
forever, the sun's a little extra bright, the sky's a little extra blue. Even the lake is better
than usual ' a little bluer, reflecting off that ultrablue sky, a little calmer and usually a lot
less crowded. A day like this demands something that's a step beyond the norm ' something like the
2002 Malibu Wakesetter XTi.
At a glance, the XTi is as familiar as that face you see in the mirror. It's a mid-engine,
direct-drive ski boat, not quite 23 feet long, with an open bow. You've seen, driven and skied a
million of these, every one of them swearing to be a radical departure, most of them delivering
little more than a hull tweak that alters the wake so slightly as to be invisible to anyone who's
not a serious contender for a world slalom championship. Nothing wrong with that; 99.9 percent of
those boats have been great fun, but after a while they all start to blur in your memory, and a day
like this, where everything else is just a little bit better than you remember, needs a boat
that'll stand out from the pack. Get close enough for a longer look at the XTi and you'll see it
definitely stands out. It's like nothing you've ever seen in a ski boat.
Since the dawn of time,
direct-drive ski boats have had the same basic seating layout. The driver gets a snug, low-slung
bucket, the observer sits port and faces aft (sometimes the observer gets a double-wide seat,
sometimes not), there's a three-person rear bench, and a padded engine box and ski pylon pretty
much dead center. If it's an open bow, you get a couple of small seats up front that rarely, if
ever, get used. The genius of the XTi is a seating configuration with three different seating areas
that gives the entire interior a much more relaxed, conversation-friendly feel.
The seating works like this: The bow area is typical, if a bit smallish because the cockpit
sits a bit more forward than you're used to in a ski boat. There's a good-sized walk-through
between the bow and the cockpit, and a Plexiglas wind block for chilly mornings.
Idling through the Lakeway Marina, you're wedged behind the XTi's wheel like a Formula One
driver. Okay, not really wedged, since you've flipped up the bolster for better slow-speed vision,
but if you drop the bolster down and slide your legs way up under the dash, you definitely feel
cozy.
The engine box is pretty
much dead center in the cockpit, but it's not an island like on other ski boats. More like a
peninsula extending behind the driver's seat, fully padded so you can sit there comfortably when
stopped or idling. The ski pylon is almost hidden, totally unobtrusive until you need it, at which
time you raise it a foot or so, give the pole a twist and lock it into place. Because of the
peninsula design, instead of simply having a rear bench seat, the XTi has a full U-lounge setup in
the rear of the cockpit, something you've never seen on a ski boat.
Once you're out of Lakeway's no-wake zone and into the lake proper, you give in to your inner
speed freak and hammer the throttle. The 325-hp Monsoon engine roars. Just for grins, you throw a
couple of hard, wheel-lock turns. The SV23 Diamond hull carves smoothly, refusing to release unless
you really want it to. The riders in the rear are hanging on with white knuckles, but they're as
dry as you are at the helm. After a few more hard S-turns, you give in to the howls from the peanut
gallery and set a course northwest.
You make your way around Horseshoe Bend as noon comes and goes. The XTi seems to cruise best
at around 35 mph, but at times you slow the boat almost to idle to look at a particularly
interesting bit of geology, or a cow that's come down to the lakefront for a drink, or just to let
the sun warm your face.
The Wakesetter XTi has some nice bonus features, like a collapsible tower, the three-ballast
Malibu Launch System (MLS) and a Wedge, all of which can combine to change the XTi from a
first-rate recreational ski boat to a first-rate wakeboard boat for a boarder of any skill level.
Fill the ballast tanks, drop the Wedge and max out the seating capacity with 13 people, and you
have a wake that's the inland equivalent of Waimea.
With a quick dip of a toe, it's determined that the water of Lake Travis is nowhere near as
warm as Hawaii's ' even if it is 80 degrees this afternoon ' so this will be a day spent in the
boat, not behind it. No problemo. That gives you an excuse to put the new Alejandro Escovedo CD in
the player, set up the cocktail table in the rear seating area and break out the beverages. The
only sign of life you see today on this end of the lake is a hawk soaring overhead. This is what
it's all about.
After a while, though, you notice that something is slightly amiss. The XTi rides low, but it
seems like it's riding lower than normal, and there's water ' a lot of water ' in the in-floor ski
locker. So you open the engine box. You gasp as your mental wheels start spinning like mad, trying
to remember if you triple-checked the rear drain plug this morning. So you climb onto the swim
platform, which is now submerged (definitely not a good sign), open the Wedge hatch and reach
around the transom. You feel a hole, a threaded hole, with water rushing in around your finger. And
suddenly you feel a lot like that Dutch boy and the dike . . . or at least a Dutch boy whose boat
is now missing a drain plug and who needs to find an open marina, quickly.
After an agonizingly slow, plowing, 10-minute trip and a quick stop at the only open marina
nearby, you reach back through that Wedge hatch with a borrowed crescent wrench to tighten the new
drain plug securely in place while the bilge pump earns its keep.
One good thing about having your friends on board when you do something really stupid, like
forgetting to check the drain plug, is that you'll be sure never to do it again, because they'll
spend the rest of the day reminding you what a bonehead you are. If you ask for a drink, they'll
ask if you remembered to put the drain plug in the ice chest. That sort of thing. So you put Rancid
in the CD player and push the subwoofer to its limit to drown out the guff you're getting from the
back of the boat.
One bad thing about having your friends on board is that the days are just too short to be
fully enjoyed. It's even worse in late fall, when the sun sets just in time for rush hour, meaning
you have to start heading back home almost as soon as you've finished eating lunch. You can't do
anything about the time, though, so you point the bow more or less southeast and start easing
toward Lakeway.
Before you make it back to port, you decide to see how the XTi performs now that it's no
longer full of water. You half-expect a neck-snapping show of acceleration, but it never comes. The
XTi accelerates well, going from 0 to 30 mph in just less than six seconds, and it's smooth and
gentle, so that if you're behind the boat at the end of your rope, you won't be risking shoulder
damage whenever someone's a little over-aggressive on
the throttle. The power keeps building, and soon the boat passes the 36 mph mark. In fewer
than seven seconds after you hit the gas, you finally peak at a respectable 45 mph.
It's too hard to let a day this great end so prematurely, so you do the only sensible thing '
you spend the night near the lake and do it all again tomorrow.
As the lake fades into night, you see a solitary boat still on the water. With this, you
realize the setting of the sun isn't necessarily the end of the day, just the end of the daylight.
It's not too long before you're making your way over to the marina, boat keys in hand.
Lakes are special during the day, but at night they're downright magical. The new moon means
the sky is filled to bursting with stars, and there isn't
another boat on the water. The lake, black as ink, is yours. You idle out past the marina
before you accelerate just enough to get the XTi up on plane. There's no hurry, though. It's barely
6:30 in the evening, and the restaurants don't close until 10:00, so you have the luxury of time on
your side. The XTi dash lights up orange, and the indirect cockpit lights give the boat a soft
interior glow. Your passenger puts the filler cushion into the bow seating area, then stretches out
prone, her head resting on her hands just off to the left of the bow lights, watching the water
appear and disappear in the blink of an eye. 'This is amazing,' she yells. You spot the next
channel marker and head for it while her laughter fills the boat. The restaurant is 14 miles away,
but now that seems too close.