The Time and Effort Cabo Put Into Design Pays Off – Without Pinching Your Wallet

I'm kicked back in the helm chair of a Cabo 52 Express, lazily trolling along the 30-fathom line, when I see the rip. Standing waves and a notable color change make me think there could be tunas close by. I turn for it and glance over my shoulder. Both guys onboard are in the cockpit, paying attention to the spread and ready to do battle. Good.

The diesels chug along rhythmically, 3,100 horses calmly moving us forward at a crawl. There is no conversation, no sound other than the engines and water lapping the hull – until, that is, our lines hit that rip. Three rods go down within seconds of each other, and all hell breaks loose behind me. I see one guy with a rod in his hands, able to do no more than hold on. The other runs between the other two bent rods, leaving them in the holders and cranking when slack comes into a line. He needs help. Now.

I flip on the autopilot and jump out of the chair, and in a flash I've got the other rod in my hands. The three of us do the over-under fish dance, lines crossing and un-crossing as the tunas zip from port to starboard, then back again. We get two of them in, but the third fish is an 80-pound yellowfin bull. As we clear the remaining lines, the fish runs forward, then cuts to starboard, under the boat. I run for the helm, crank the wheel hard over, and give the port engine a shot of juice. The boat turns off of the fish, and we're no longer in danger of running over the line. Whew – close call. Eventually we land that fish, too.

If we'd been on any 52-foot fishing boat other than the Cabo 52 Express, chances are we wouldn't have caught all three. If you're an angling captain, you probably already know that the express sportfisher design makes it possible for the captain to stay in the action. Stuck on the flybridge of a convertible, you can't easily dart from the wheel to the rods. Nor can you get back to that wheel in a hurry, when a fish does something like run under the boat.

There's just one problem with expresses: If you like boats bigger than 45 feet, you're out of luck. Most manufacturers only build convertibles in that size range. In fact, the Cabo is the only molded-fiberglass production boat of this size and type. Fortunately, however, that also makes choosing pretty darn easy.

CAPTAIN'S CHOICE

It's obvious that this express is, like others, designed for an angling owner-captain. Just take a gander at that helm station: It's centered, and it's elevated enough that you don't lose visibility over the bow as the boat comes on plane, a common complaint with many large express models. Sit in your seat, Cap, and gaze at the massive electronics flat. You want a glass bridge system with three massive screens? No problem. The 52 I tested had triple 15-inchers, which is about as good as it gets.

At the helm you'll be in the center of the conversation as well, since there's a pair of forward-facing helm chairs flanking the captain's chair. And all three of these seats are Stidds, which are reliably the most comfortable chairs of their type. More passengers can find a comfy riding spot on the huge, L-settee behind the port-side chair. The area behind the starboard chair has an icemaker and tackle cabinet. Everyone comfy? Good. You'll all stay that way, too, because the bridge deck is air-conditioned.

Since you're a fishing captain, next you should hop down from the bridge deck and check out the cockpit. When I did so, I found the things I look for in high-end, dedicated fishboats: coaming bolsters, both gunwale (four) and transom (one) rod holders, a rigging station, a bait freezer, and a circular, 75-gallon transom livewell. Yeah, that's right, 75-gallons—you'll be able to keep an entire school of bunker swimming happily in there for days at a time.

The fishboxes, however, are the real eye-catcher. A pair of insulated, gasketed, macerated, integrated boxes with gas-assisted struts live in the deck. The starboard box can be equipped with freezer plates, so you don't have to lug around heavy bags of ice. The plate system adds $5,175 to the cost of the boat, but the Cabo starts out at a reasonable base of $1.37 million, several hundred thousand less than similar-size convertibles. You could sink extra dough into other options, too, like the $2,300 plumbed and wired tuna tubes, or the $435 electric reel outlets, and you'd have an incredibly well outfitted fishing machine that's still far less expensive than the competition.

Now swing open the stowage compartment in the forward starboard corner of the cockpit. Behind a Plexiglas cover lays one of Cabo's trademark "Electrariums," where you can get a first-hand look at how Cabo wires its boats. Frankly, it's the best I've ever seen. You'll discover ramrod-straight runs, drum-tight looms, and flawless connections. Sometimes people call messy wiring a bunch of spaghetti; the wiring on these boats is more like the spaghetti that's still in the box, perfectly straight and uniform. One minor complaint: I wish the builder had used a different hatch arrangement for the Electrarium, because on my test boat, it hit a speaker grill when I swung it open.

PERFORMANCE BOOST

Cabo developed the 52 Express using the hull design from its successful 40 Express, a design into which the builder put a lot of time, effort and research. The 40 was CAD-CAM designed, an approach most modern builders take, but few actually tank test that design before they put it into production. Cabo tested, tweaked and re-tested the 40's hull again and again. The net result? Multiple chine-angle and strake-placement changes that boosted both speed and efficiency; prop-pocket changes that reduced draft and shaft angle; and a lower center of gravity.

Of course, the 52 is quite a bit larger than the 40. But the performance boosts carry over. Just look at the numbers: Cruising speed at 2100 rpm is a lightning-fast 41.9 mph, and wide-open throttle breaks 46 mph. Yes, you're chugging down quite a bit of fuel at speeds like this, and getting a mere 0.3 mpg. But that's about average for boats in this size range, so you're getting that zippy cruise without paying the price of reduced efficiency.

As one might expect with nearly 56,000 pounds of fiberglass underfoot and more than 52 feet of LOA, the Cabo crushes waves underfoot. It was fairly calm during our test run, but boat wakes in the three-foot range were essentially undetectable when met head-on. Though sheer mass explains a lot about how this boat rides, again, credit must also go to bottom design. The Cabo rides on a 16-degree transom deadrise, which is pretty darn sharp for a boat of this size.

Inside, the boat's design is just as well thought out. The salon has an open feel, with a dinette and settee to port and a galley to starboard. To prevent tracking fish blood and scales into the cabin every time you need to use the head, Cabo placed a day head just inside the entry. The forward stateroom has a queen pedestal berth and (of course) a private head. I'm not in love with the door on the guest stateroom, however. It's a slider, and although Cabo says it worked hard to get this one right, I find that sliders always bang, slam and come off the tracks over time on boats. Maybe I'm wrong this time – I certainly hope so.

Like the salon, the engine room feels roomier than expected. In fact, there's an unheard-of maximum seven feet of headroom between the iron horses. That's even more than the main cabin's headroom of 6 feet, 11 inches. On this boat, oil changes can be carried out without the usual stooping, crouching, and backaches. In addition, the oil-exchanger system is plumbed not only to the engines, but also to the 21-kW genset and transmissions. While you're down in this area, be sure to check out the next Electrarium, this one on the forward bulkhead; another eyeful of Cabo's perfect wiring. Now glance at the large strainers plumbed to the engine—those are engine-driven crash pumps. In the unlikely event you're taking on water, you'll be able to dedicate 1,550 horsepower to pumping it back overboard.

If you ever do find yourself in seas large enough to get the deck of this boat wet, it'll drain in moments. Though we didn't hook any billfish while on the 52, I backed into the seas to get a feel for what it would be like to try and keep up with a greyhounding marlin. The massive, five-bladed props grabbed the water and spun the boat amazingly fast, and when I put the transom into a wave, the huge scuppers drained the cockpit in seconds.

Draining the fishbox, however, can be a different story. It pumps out plenty fast, but you might just find that you load it with so many tuna that gallons of gore are washing around in there by the time you hit the dock. This is one fishboat over 50 that lets you get in on all the action, Captain.

Lenny Rudow was senior technical editor for Boating magazine for more than 10 years, and is currently the electronics editor for Marlin and GoBoating magazines.

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