Minnesotans are putting a tidal wave of imagination into their pontoons — from luxe water slides to pirate planks.
“Pontoons Gone Wild.” “Pontoon Hunters.” “Pimp My Pontoon.” If a TV producer stumbled on the gems floating on our lakes, there’d be a reality show waiting.
These aren’t the kitschy putt-putters with plastic chairs and artificial turf, either. Pontoons, while still floating platforms, are larger, more powerful, more luxurious and sometimes even outrageous.
“The pontoon used to be grandpa and grandma’s boat,” said Brent Wiczek, manager of Nisswa Marine. “We’re selling pontoons to a much younger generation than we ever have. It’s the fastest growing part of our business.”
Pontoon sales nationally shot up 58 percent from 2010 to 2014, according to industry reports. Pontoon people are treating them like mini-yachts: demanding full bars, luxe furniture and state-of-the-art sound systems. Premier Pontoons, based in Wyoming, Minn., makes a two-story pontoon that comes with a water slide.
Speed is important, too. Some of Nisswa Marine’s high-end pontoons can reach 60 miles per hour.
“That’s as fast as any speedboat on the lake,” Wiczek said. “We’re selling pontoons in excess of $100,000 to $130,000, which is crazy, but it’s happening.”
Boaters justify the cost by trading in their speedboats and fishing rigs for a single, versatile vessel. From angling and water-skiing to cocktail cruises and bachelor parties, the pontoon can do it all.
Here are some of the most tricked-out ’toons on local lakes.
Owner: Robert McCluskey
Lake: Coon Lake, East Bethel
Features: Full masts, water cannons, crow’s nest, wooden plank, treasure chest, parrot, pirate flags, 350 feet of rope lights, 75-horsepower Johnson motor, red chandeliers.
The story: On most days, Robert McCluskey calls his famed pontoon pirate ship the Coon Raider. Other days, he calls it a black hole.
“The dang thing takes so much maintenance and money to operate,” said McCluskey, the commodore of the ship. “Once you get started on something like this, you can’t quit.”
In McCluskey’s world, if you’re going to build a party barge, go all the way.
From bow to stern, the ship is 55 feet long. The 42-foot masts are hung with black garbage bag sails. Residents from around the lake have donated skulls, signs and flags, plus other pirate decor found at garage sales.
Each spring, McCluskey and his crew work off their cabin fever by fixing up the Coon Raider. McCluskey said he’s sunk more money and hours into the ship than he can count — at least a couple thousand dollars each year — but he said it’s worth it for the reactions he gets.
“The kids run to the docks and yell, ‘The pirates are here!’ and they ask us to blow the horn and walk the plank.”
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