We never had a vest of any sort. Just a ski belt. The usual comment of the boat driver was "Quityurbellyaching. It'll quit hurting in a minute." The real speed was when making hard U turns. The Lord might know how fast the skier was going, but past "skint back" I don't. It was fun, then, and predictable. Noting like navigating womenfolk. Young and dumb and full of numb.