On a recent trip to Italy, Jacqui visited Ferrari Classiche – a facility set up by Ferrari to restore and service their historic race and road cars.

It’s a work of art, this fuel tank. It’s from a car built in 1954 to race at Indianapolis: a hand-built masterpiece. Back then seals weren’t rubber or silicone, but lead. So this tank has a lead seal, clamped down with hundreds of tiny rivets. The restoration took around 1200 hours to complete.

Ferrari’s Classiche workshop is full of similar automotive masterpieces. Swing the camera up, and we frame a 1963 Ferrari 250LM, a 1966 330 GTC and a 1954 750 Monza.

Turning round, there’s a Dino 246GT – and more – all parked on a pristine tiled floor amid a subdued hum of fans and quiet conversation, being worked on by a fleet of red-clad technicians. And we’re not talking grumpy old coots, there are young lads here too. Even the designers wander over occasionally, to reference the brand’s design heritage.

Ferrari opened this Classiche workshop in 2006. Nestled within the factory walls it restores, services and certifies all GT cars over 20 years old, and any race car.

Certification is necessary, says Ferrari Classiche e Corse Clienti brand director, Marco Arrighi, as “Many cars are not what they purport to be.”

Who brings their Ferrari here? Often first-time owners who want it perfect, though one gent has 35 or so two-plus-two cars, and he’s begun to restore every one at Classiche. That must be a good contract? “Yes, it’s not bad!”

Before starting work, an estimate is produced. “We write down every piece we have to produce. Each part is punched with the Classiche logo to make clear it is not original. Engine, gearbox, we can punch with the same number, and Classiche;” he points out an engine block – each piston punched with its correct part number and the Classiche logo. “If an original part is not possible, we take the number of the last one, and add one.”

We pass a trolley holding an eviscerated engine. The pistons have seen better days. “The pistons and conrods are more or less replaced every time,” Arrighi says, and “we can recreate any kind of component.” All will be stamped with ‘Classiche’.

Original Methods and Materials

My head is spinning a bit – surely the Classiche logo isn’t necessary, after all, the new components would be clearly identifiable as modern parts?

Not at all. The cars are restored exactly to how they were built – using the blueprints Ferrari has for every vehicle it’s ever made. “We can assure the client it’s been restored using the original drawing.”

And using original methods and materials, too. “With modern technology we can do better, but the aim is to have the car in the same condition as when it was delivered from the factory.”

That’s harder with paint – some contains materials now banned, others have a delicate finish quite different to modern preparations. The Indianapolis has been painted using the original procedure, with 13 layers, including three or four of base alone.

Wood is easy – “The wood normally remains, we just renew it. It is rare to find wood badly damaged.”  But leather can be problematic. Ferrari’s leather shop does some of the work, or a historical supplier, though they’re not always available. Connolly closed its doors in 2002, but Ferrari will try to duplicate the process and finish a model would originally have used.

A blue and cream Monza is owned by a Mexican, who will drive it in this year’s Mille Miglia and is awaiting confirmation it’s been accepted for Pebble Beach. It needed all the rivets round its open cockpit replaced. “At some time they used pop rivets, which didn’t exist in the 1950s. And the rear chassis had been modified, so we rectified it.”

Arrighi says owners often don’t know modifications have been made. “When we first check a car we check the components, the dimensions of the chassis, we make a list and tell the client. If there’s a big difference the car is no good at all.”

Not every Ferrari will be certified. “We’ve had 1700 requests, and 1300 have been certified.” Some of the failures have been fake, or a replica. To succeed, “The basis, the chassis and so on, must be original.”

Setting the Record Straight

The process is more difficult with race cars, where changes such as engine replacements are common. Even here, Ferrari Classiche has the edge.

Arrighi ushers us to a small room, with rows of sliding shelves holding those design blueprints – and the books of the races the Ferrari factory has entered.

He pulls the 1964 tome from a shelf, the yellowed pages opening on April 12. Surtees won in a Ferrari – C Amon was fifth in a Lotus. Arrighi indicates the notes outlining the configuration of each Ferrari in the race, “the driver’s briefing, what the problems were.” These records are important, Arrighi says, because every engine has a history.

He gets the 1957 book down; it covers every powerplant, for every race – and in neatly hand-written blue ink, what the mechanics found; “Here are the measurements of the oil rings, and so on,” says Arrighi, translating.

“For every year we have the book, and it can help us when we restore a car like the Monoposto, or other racing car.”

These shelves carry details of every Ferrari model from 1947, “all the cars produced to 1980, including blueprints signed off by Enzo Ferrari.”

“If I need to reproduce a crankcase I have here the drawing,” Arrighi points out. He’s remarkably casual with these yellowing pages; no gloves? “No, but I wash my hands three times every five minutes,” he jokes.

Looking at all the hand-written build sheets, I notice that though they list the components – which a car must conform to, to be certified – there’s nothing to outline the exact shape of the body. “There is no drawing of the body. The drawings were sent to coachbuilders,” Arrighi says, explaining that each hand-made skin could be slightly different. As a result, the car’s exterior isn’t expected to be millimeter perfect. “It can be different left side to right, as two different men could have worked, one each side. Scaglietti was sure he never produced two cars exactly the same – you cannot do that by hand.”

Today, these records are being transferred to microfilm to ensure their survival, but you get the impression the originals will always be preferred by this elite band of perfectionists.

But it’s time to go. The fog has lifted, and there’s a Ferrari sitting outside just begging for me to take it for a drive.

Words & Photos: Jacqui Madeline

This article is from NZ Classic Car issue 233. Click here to check it out.

Eoin recalls memorable moments at the wheel of a C-Type Jaguar and a Ferrari 375MM.

It must be difficult for a motor racing generation that grew up with the 895kW turbocharged Porsche 917 sports racing car to regard the 375 Mille Miglia 4½-litre V-12 Ferrari as a monster when, in 1953, it developed a little more than a quarter of the 917’s power and looked almost lithe alongside the brutish lines of the Porsche. Transposed to 1953, however, the Ferrari was the 917 of its time, a tamer of men, a brute of a car with aggression in its chip-cutter grille, the long nose, and the determined cut of the air scoop to feed those 12 angry cylinders. In those days 895kW (1200hp) would have covered the front row of most sports car grids!

During a lull in the 1975 Stuyvesant series of F5000 races in New Zealand I took time out to try the only ex-works 375MM Ferrari sports car in captivity south of the equator (perhaps in the world?), which was being restored to its former thundering grandeur by Christchurch enthusiast, Gavin Bain. Bain prefers to be regarded as an enthusiast. “I don’t like the word collector — it sounds as though you wrap cars up in cotton wool and put them away.”

Three days earlier, Bain had been racing the Ferrari in a special historic event at Wigram. It had arrived in New Zealand from England only four months earlier with the engine in the passenger’s seat, the Pinin Farina body battered with straw bale bruises and dents filled with dollops of fibreglass. Panel craftsmen at Auto Restorations in Christchurch had done a tremendous job, and the engine bay was next on the list. “We pulled the top and bottom off the engine and it looked okay for the moment, so we bolted it back together for the Wigram race.”

My only instructions before I went out for a track acquaintance with the Ferrari at Ruapuna were not to use too many revs, and not to spread it all over the circuit!

Track Performance

Any observations of track performance by me would be superfluous to the record of this famous Ferrari, built late in 1953 as a works team car which won first time out in the Casablanca 12-hours driven by Farina and Scotti. In January 1954 Farina shared the car with Maglioli for the first long-distance championship sports car race to be held in Argentina. It followed a 5.88-mile course and used the outer perimeter of the Buenos Aires Autodromo as well as a stretch of the neighbouring dual carriageway, complete with an intersection and a roundabout.

The field of 37 cars included works cars from Aston Martin, Ferrari and Borgward plus an Ecurie Ecosse C-Type Jaguar. Farina made a leisurely start, but soon worked his way up from fifth place into the lead and set a lap record of three minutes, 34.6 seconds (158.98kph/ 98.79mph) before handing over to Maglioli with a safe lead. The DB3S Astons were the best of the rest but no match for the 375MM, and after 66 laps the second-placed Aston of Parnell/Salvadori went out with electrical problems, and Farina/Maglioli won the opening race of the 1954 season by a clear three laps from a 3.0-litre Ferrari driven by Schell and de Portago and the Collins/Griffiths Aston Martin.

It is of nostalgic note to observe that the 4.5-litre Ferrari driven by Trintignant and Rosier, which had led on the opening lap and held second place to Farina until it slowed with pit problems to an eventual seventh place, is also owned by Gavin Bain. The car was restored to its original Rosier Grand Prix configuration, and is now in the impressive Grand Prix collection of one Bernard Charles Ecclestone. Carrying historical coincidence almost too far, the Collins/ Griffiths DB3S was owned by Leon Witte, Bain’s near-neighbour in Governor’s Bay near Christchurch.

The Ferrari works team for 1954 was to be made up of more powerful 4.9-litre cars so the superseded models were sold off, chassis number 0370AM going to American privateer of colourful note, Masten Gregory.

True to what was about to become his form, Masten almost wrote the Ferrari off against a tree in his first race, and the car went back to Maranello for a rebuild. Masten then campaigned it throughout Europe in the 1954 season, finishing fourth in the Rheims 12-hour with Biondetti in July, third three weeks later in the Portugese GP for sports cars at Monsanto, second in a short sports car race at Goodwood in September, first at Aintree in October, second at Montlhery, and then he shipped the car across the Atlantic to win the Bahamas Automobile Club trophy in Nassau.

Masten kept the Ferrari in the States for national events, claiming it was the best racing car he had ever owned, and at one point it was maintained by the legendary Alfred Momo who cared for the Cunningham stable.

History has an annoying way of clouding over various periods of the lives of famous cars, but this particular 375MM rested for some time in the private collection of Carl D Bross before it was brought to England and eventually acquired by Bain.

A Pinch-me Situation

Although Bain won’t accept the label ‘collector’, his stable consisted at that time of the 375MM, the Rosier 4.5-litre V12 Ferrari, a Super Squalo Ferrari being rebuilt, a 1920 Brescia Bugatti, a 1924 3.0-litre Bentley, a 37.2 H63 Hispano-Suiza, a 1908 Humber, a 1912 Silver Ghost Rolls Royce, a pair of 1924 Humbers, an XK120 Jaguar, a 1935 Bentley 3½-litre, the famous twin-engined Bimotore Alfa Romeo (more correctly the Aitken Alfa and now sadly less engine), a share in a 1935 2.0-litre Alta and “a dozen assorted motorcycles.”

It must be the wish of every red-blooded enthusiast to take the wheel of a car like the Ferrari for a few laps of a track, but that day on the little Ruapuna circuit on the outskirts of Christchurch, I found myself in one of those absurd pinch-me situations which happens to everyone perhaps only once in a lifetime.

A Big Cat Joins the Prancing Horse

I drove to the track in the ex-Peter Whitehead C-Type Jaguar, burbling through suburban traffic and blasting when the road was clear. I parked in the pits, and climbed into the Ferrari. Nobody, unless Mike Hawthorn had the opportunity in 1953 or 1954, has probably ever stepped straight from a C-Type Jaguar into a works Ferrari! It was a chastening thought.

The C-Type drive was something of a lifetime ego trip for me, which did nothing to dilute the thrill of the Ferrari. I had ridden in the C-Type with namesake David Young, who raced the car in New Zealand sports car races back at the dawn of my interest in motor sport. The car was then owned and occasionally raced by Ray Archibald, the Jaguar dealer in Christchurch who made a formidable reputation in the ’50s and early ’60s with his fluid style at the wheel of various racing Jaguars.

The C-Type was delivered to the Whitehead brothers through Henly’s Garage in London in April 1953, and was raced by both Peter and Graham before Peter brought it out for the Mt Druitt six-hour sports car race in Australia. He retired with unspecified problems, and sold it to New Zealander Jack Tutton who was at the race. Tutton later set a national Class C speed record at 232kph (144mph) in New Zealand before selling the car to Des Wilde, who on-sold it to David Young.

In 1961 it went to Garth Forsythe, who began a rebuild he never finished, and the Archibald brothers bought it in 1966 for £1100. Ian Archibald first raced the C-Type at a local race in 1970, surviving an early morning spin on black ice on the way to the Levels track in South Canterbury, and a second spin during the race! After that the driving was taken over by his brother Ray.

But back to the Ferrari!

V12 Surge

I shoehorned Gavin’s crash helmet on and adjusted the period goggles, which I discovered reflected back at me disconcertingly from the five instrument dials like five images of a ham racer in one of those dreadful motor racing movies pre Grand Prix.

The throttle pedal was stiff, but the surge of the V12 was super-smooth as I drove out on to the track. The V12 engine was based on the 4.5-litre Ferrari Grand Prix engine, but was not in fact a GP unit. It had a compression ratio of 9:1 and delivered 254kW (340bhp) at 7000rpm. The V12 had a single cam per bank with three inverted four-barrel Weber carburettors. The gearbox was a four-speeder and the brakes drum. It had a tube chassis with independent front suspension via upper and lower wishbones, with a transverse leaf spring and stabilising rod, and a solid rear axle with four pushrods, longitudinal leaf springs and Houdaille shock absorbers as original equipment.

The Moss gearbox on the C-Type had been fairly slow to use, but the tall lever on the Ferrari was a real butter-slicer. Gavin had suggested a rev limit of 6000rpm but I volunteered 5500rpm, reckoning caution to be less expensive than lead-foot valour, Ferrari racing parts being a touch pricey, even then.

Through the big, slim-rim wheel were the tachometer which ran to 8000, the speedometer (disconnected) which read to 300kph, and grouped between were dials for Benzina, Olio and Aqua.

First impressions were that I was sitting very low and sighting over an endless bonnet, second impression was the heaviness of the steering into the tight hairpin and the howling of Bain’s rubber as I bansheed through on each lap. There was a medium-speed right and left which were fun to try and perfect in second, a climb to third on the short back straight and through the long loop, then up to top on the straight. Probably the wrong gears, but wildly invigorating nevertheless.

The hairpin became more and more of a challenge, coming in later on brakes, turning later, until the tail started taking over on about the 15th lap and with all the available helm wound on, we seemed to be cruising with frightening ease (and all sorts of tyre noise) straight into the half-tyre course markers. Fate intervened and the Ferrari stopped before that pristine nose was crinkled — I was imagining my own suffering the same results but that seemed like the signal I had been waiting for to stop being a hero in a car I couldn’t afford to unbend, let alone buy.

I made one last long attempt at getting the loop right, and then peeled off into the pits leaving Gavin wondering whether I had really parked it permanently this time. My earlier effort at the hairpin had registered with them at the loop as a long, rising howl of rubber, a stunning silence, and then a rising sound through the car’s twin exhaust as I applied a nervous dab of throttle.

Car Swap

I was swapping cars for a few laps of the C-Type before our track time expired, but first time into the hairpin using Ferrari limits I discovered the C was altogether a different motor car. It was more petite, cat-like in its advance to a corner, light in the touch and not needing that long strong-arm push to the top of the wheel to hold it in the long turns of the loop and the hairpin. So that’s where Farina got the idea of the arm-stretch driving position! The Ferrari wouldn’t take a hairpin any other way! The C-Type was darting from lock to lock before I managed to gather it up and set off for the right and left which I had sorted out to my personal satisfaction in the Ferrari. Again I was in too deep and too late on the brakes and the rounded tail of the Jaguar was dancing out. The Ferrari brakes had been heavy but positive and by instant comparison, the Jaguar’s anchors only needed a tap and the wheels were locked.

A few laps in the C-Type were enlightening but probably suffered by a longer period with the Ferrari, so that I ended up feeling that if I was in a position to own either it would probably be the Ferrari, discounting my romantic ties with the Jaguar.

I had confounded my own plans by driving the Ferrari first and then the Jaguar, something I had done a couple of years earlier at Silverstone when I drove Tom Wheatcroft’s 1969 four-wheel-drive Cosworth 3.0-litre Grand Prix car first, and then drove the ex-Nuvolari 1933 8CM which felt like a toy after the tussle with the complexity of the Cosworth. If I had driven the Maserati first I would have been more impressed with both cars, instead of treating the 8CM with relative ease after the Cosworth.

Old Time’s Sake

Years later in Britain I learned that Peter Agg had bought the C-Type, and I asked him if I could drive it for old time’s sake. Peter was the boss of Lambretta-Trojan and Elva Cars, and I could remember a long winter afternoon when I was still working for the McLaren Team, and we were arguing whether the production McLaren CanAm ‘customer cars’ would be named Elva-McLarens or McLaren-Elvas. I won.

Peter said I could borrow the C-Type for a drive — and then phoned to say that he had a clash of bookings. He had entered the C-Type for the splendid Ecosse Tour of Scotland and then been offered the chance to skipper a yacht in the Adriatic over the same period. Did I want to take the C-Type on the Ecosse tour of the Highlands, all expenses covered! Did I? You betcha.

I took Nick Mason’s right-hand-man, Michael Hallowes, as my riding mechanic, and early on the morning of the start, Michael went down to find out what was happening. He returned to the room with a wry grin asking whether I wanted the good news or the bad. The bad news? It was raining. And the good news? The C-Type had been delivered. He sounded as though he thought they were both bad news items.

My new time with the C-Type was as ‘owner and entrant’, but I was sitting there before the start without a clue how to fire it. The key was in the ignition but no trace of a starter. I was aware of a bloke peering into the cockpit and asking if I had a problem. It was Neil Corner, who had owned C and D-Types and he probably knew where the starter was. He did. Move the key fob, he said, and there was the starter button. Blush

That tour was a great adventure despite the weather. We drove up Tom ’n’ Toul, the highest motor road in Britain, in a blizzard following a Volkswagen, freezing and blinded by snow. We resolved to stop the VW at the top of the pass and swap cars — whether the VW driver wanted to or not. Unbeknown to me, Tom Candlish was following us over the pass in his C-Type and marvelling at how fast I could go in the terrible conditions without braking. Years later he wrote a piece on the Ecosse Tours and recounted the tale of following me over the pass without a flicker of a brake light. It was only later that he learned the connection to the brake lights had become unplugged!

An Experience to Remember

Those laps at Ruapuna were an experience to remember, having driven both the cars that had battled together that summer 20-odd years before, when both Ferrari and Jaguar had proved capable of winning at Le Mans, when both cars were cheered to the echo as they rolled on to the grid instead of being politely inspected as neo-vintage collector’s items today.

Words: Eoin Young

This article is from Classic Car issue 230. Click here to check it out.

Jacqui travels to Sicily to road-test the latest addition to the Prancing Horse’s stable

Is Ferrari’s California named for the US market? Yes, but not as recently as most might think. For the California convertible launched with such hoopla late last year is not the first Ferrari to carry that name. The 1957 250GT California Spider was also designed for export to the US. It used aluminium for the bonnet, doors and boot lid with steel elsewhere, though I believe some racing versions were aluminium-bodied.

Don’t remember it? That’s not surprising — only 45 were made, one of which was auctioned in 2007, reaching US$4.9 million.

Suddenly, the current car’s NZ$450,000 seems a bargain — though that price isn’t fixed. The waiting list is still around two years, and what you pay will depend on the exchange rate when it’s delivered.

Ferrari Firsts

What you’ll get is a car that when, it arrives, achieves a few firsts for Ferrari. Its their first front-engined V8; its first with a seven-speed dual-clutch transmission — the only gearbox option; the first with a folding metal roof; a multi-link rear suspension; and with fuel injection.

This 4.3-litre flat-crank engine is an evolution of the unit fitted to the 430, the fuel injection co-developed with Bosch using a similar set-up to that used by the A1GP cars, with an injector per cylinder fitted between the inlet valves. It uses high pressure and a high compression ratio to maintain efficiency at the 8000rpm the engine can spin to.

The 338kW/485Nm thus delivered is controlled by that new transmission, supplied by Getrag to Ferrari design and fitted to the rear axle. Changes are quick — especially with ‘sport’ selected via the little red, steering wheel-mounted thumb lever.

The ‘hardest’ mode also switches stability control off — but we left it on for our road drive, for this is not just a boulevard cruiser, despite that folding lid. This car will sprint from zero to 100kph in less than four seconds, and reaches 310kph. I achieved close to that with shocking ease, the speed delivered with all the aural drama you expect from a Ferrari.

Yet this is also a surprisingly practical car. It’s not as graceful as I expected, the side view is especially clumsy as Ferrari attempted to mask the height of the rump, mandated by the need to tuck that roof away — it takes just 14 seconds to deploy. But the front, and front three-quarter looks just as you’d expect it to.

That high stern imparts extra drama to the rear three-quarter view; and the cabin’s been wonderfully built to please both the road-focussed driver and his or her passenger. There’s even a vanity mirror and a cup-holder, albeit one more suited to espresso than Starbucks, and tucked beneath the armrest.

There’s a wind-deflector too, which dramatically cuts wind-buffet to reduce the impact on your coiffure.

Rock Solid

As you’ll have gathered, we initially barely noticed the suspension. Our mostly motorway route wasn’t designed to show it at its best, but the narrow, potholed switchback up the Sicilian hills revealed that it’s incredibly compliant in comfort mode and impressively controlled in sport.

The slight, 53 per cent rear weight bias settles those driven wheels, the multi-link rear set-up and driver-focussed stability control allowing just enough rear movement for liveliness, without getting hair-raising. Indeed, the car felt rock solid until the motorway’s silly speeds and gusting winds caused an almost imperceptible weave, at which my passenger suggested a more moderate pace.
Meanwhile our rapid climb had underlined the car’s stiffness, with very little scuttle shake felt.

In fact despite its nimbleness this Ferrari would almost have been insufficiently exciting were it not for the car’s soundtrack, wild enough to raise the hair on your neck without getting wearing over a long day in the saddle.

Ferrari’s made an impressive compromise with this car. It’s not the hardest of the breed, but it’s arguably the best-balanced and most forgiving without blunting the sharp edge too far.

The modern California isn’t the most powerful Ferrari, and it’s heavy — the roof mechanism and all the comfort and convenience features do exact a toll. But these days money is tight, and even the super-rich may think twice about which toys they buy. A Ferrari that offers the experience most drivers seek with a comfort they won’t expect, at the cost of losing the ragged-edge few will reach on real-world roads, is the car to build. Meantime the California’s softer focus leaves a gap for a more aggressive sports car, with a 430 Scuderia Spider likely to be waiting in the wings.

2009 Ferrari California – Specifcations

Engine: 4.3-litre flat crank fuel-injected V8
Bore/stroke: 94×77.37mm
Comp ratio: 12.2:1
Max Power: 338kW at 7750rpm
Max Torque: 485Nm at 5000rpm
Transmission: Seven—speed dual-clutch auto
Suspension: Double wishbone front, multi-link rear
Brakes: Carbon ceramic brakes with 390/34mm front and 360/32mm rear discs
Wheels/tyres: 19-inch alloys with 245/40ZR19 front tyres and 285/40ZR19 rears
Dimensions: Length/width/height/WB: 4563/1902/1308/2670mm
Track fr/rr: 1630/1605mm
Kerb weight: 1630kg

Performance:
Max speed: 310kph (claimed)
0-100kph: Under four seconds (claimed)
Fuel consumption urban/extraurban/combined: 13.1l/100km (claimed)
Price: NZ$450,000 approx

Words & Photos: Jacqui Madelin

This article is from Classic Car issue 219. Click here to check it out.

I guess it’s a simple enough idea, based on Phil Hill’s long-running series of articles on sports-racing Ferraris for Road & Track and Rosso Ferrari. But the magic lies in how it has all been brought together.

Hill won 25 sports car races in Ferraris through the ’50s and early ’60s. In the book he writes about 19 different models, almost all of which he raced at the time.

They weren’t all enormously successful, though most were, but very few of these cars are less than fabulous to look at.

Hill’s early days racing in the US get good coverage — it must have been a great period to watch and compete in. He has a  wonderful knack for giving just enough of every aspect of the models featured — specifications, development, team politics, personalities, his own experience in racing them (some amusing, some tragic, but nearly all successful), subsequent history and owners of the individual cars featured to bring the period to life.

Cars featured in the book include the AAC 815 and the first Corsa Spyder, through the big four-cylinder Monzas, the 4.0-litre V12 MI and the elegant Testa Rossas, to the 1994 333SP.

Each model he drives again to provide a current viewpoint. The book is topped off with a wonderful piece about the Fiat transporters the factory used in the 1950s! John Lamm’s colour photos and the contemporary black-and-white shots are superb, and the large page size really shows them off well.

I remember Dalton Watson doing many one-make photographic books of quite modest size 30 to 40 years ago. This new Ferrari book is on quite a different scale, and the production quality shows the contents off beautifully.

You don’t even need to be a Ferrari fan to enjoy this one.

There is something about the way Italians do things which is rather indefinable, but fires admiration in all of us

Just listening to Italians talk, in their own language or someone else’s, prompts a quiet private smile — and car manufacturers the world over use Italian-sounding names for their motor cars to give the product a certain brio.

Brio is an Italian word which in many ways sums up their culture, temperament and designs. Italians are spontaneous, artistic, stylish and apparently carefree, and they are damn good engineers too — you just have to drive along autostradas which tunnel ingeniously through mountains and span deep ravines on beautifully-designed bridges to appreciate they aren’t engineering lightweights.

You have to drive in Italy to understand why Italians design their cars the way they do — they drive their cars, rather than conducting them or using them like an appliance. They actually concentrate on what they are doing. Italian manufacturers must supply a vehicle which responds to that. But it’s their free spirit which endears Italian car designs to us. It is so free that sometimes practical details and reliability get lost in all the brio, but those who love Italian cars quite rightly put that down to character!

The link

It’s a rare car enthusiast who doesn’t secretly dream of owning a Ferrari. Enzo Ferrari insisted he made road cars simply to finance his high-level racing activities. The road cars reflected their racing lineage by being fast and capable, but their price ensured they’d remain the preserve of those who had arrived, rather than those that were getting there.

When the Scuderia went through a lean patch in the mid ’50s, worried Italian motor sport authorities suggested Gianni Lancia should hand his racers over to Ferrari. Lancia had the basis of a great Grand Prix car in his V8 Lancia D50 — but financial problems which precluded racing.

The president of FIAT was persuaded that the prestige of Italy was at stake, and Fiat should contribute. That ‘contribution’ not only resulted in a successful couple of seasons for the Lancia Ferrari D50. It was meant to last five years, but resulted in FIAT eventually taking a controlling interest in Ferrari in the late ’60s. Despite, or maybe because of, its brilliant technical solutions, Lancia continued to founder financially and it, too was swallowed up by FIAT in 1969.

Ferrari 308GTB

Motor racing definitely improves the breed. Major innovations developed through racing usually find their way into production cars — for practical reasons, or simply marketing kudos. At the end of the ’50s, Ferrari’s run of Grand Prix success was halted by the Cooper team, which had adopted the mid-engine layout. Ferrari has tended to be a follower of fashion rather than an innovator, both in racing and production cars. But its first foray with a mid-engined car resulted in a Grand Prix world championship in 1961, and a similar result in 1964.

Famous for its fabulous but expensive front-engined V12 cars, Ferrari decided to go for volume and launched its first production mid-engined car, the Dino 246GT, in 1967.

It was a huge success, and gorgeous too. However, Ferrari saw his competitors achieving higher volumes with 2+2 seating layouts — and thus developed the 2+2 Dino 308GT4, which was announced in 1973.

Designed by Bertone, the 2+2 car was indeed more practical, yet the styling didn’t quite capture the market’s imagination.

But the Pininfarina-designed 308GTB made up for that on its release in 1975. Initially produced with a fibreglass body, the Pininfarina car produced the sales surge Ferrari wanted. As demand went up its body parts were increasingly tooled in steel.

Our featured 1981 all-steel-bodied car is believed to be the last sold with carburettors, rather than fuel injection. This classic shape became one of Ferrari’s all-time best sellers, and survived until 1989 when the 348 came on stream.

FIAT Bertone X1/9

The key to the genesis of the mid-engined volume car was not its ideal weight distribution, but the development of the low cost transmissions needed for bread-and-butter front-wheel-drive cars. The new transmission format was required to put an engine amidships.

BMC’s failure to capitalise on this resulted in one of motoring’s great lost causes. Renault provided the breakthrough for Lotus with its R16 engine. Had Lotus used a BMC unit in its Europa, and if Porsche hadn’t used the VW name for the VW Porsche 914, both cars would have encountered much less customer resistance. And if both manufacturers had adopted less radical styling these basically sound cars might have lead a blazing trail. As it was, FIAT was left to kick start the mass-produced mid-engined trend.

Bertone was keen to produce a budget-priced mid-engined sports car to replace the obsolete 850 Spider he was building for FIAT, and secretly produced a styling study called the Bertone Barchetta Runabout, badged Autobianchi but using a disguised FIAT 128 engine. FIAT was never totally on-side with this project, and without Bertone’s persistence it quite likely would have gone for a rear-drive convertible. However, when American regulations on convertibles looked like turning nasty, Bertone’s ‘targa top’ concept won through.

Though the chassis plates refer to it as a 128 Spyder, the car was released under a prototype name, the X1/9. Affordable mid-engined motoring was available at last — from the same group that produced Ferraris.

When new, the X1/9 was highly praised, but Italian manufacturers were in a period of rust-prone bodies, poorly constructed interiors and unreliable electrics: and the car’s 1290cc engine had a lot of weight to pull along.

A slightly more powerful 1498cc engine was offered from 1978, but in 1981 Bertone took over the X1/9 and the car gained Bertone badges to replace the FIAT ones. Bertone cars were generally better built and appointed, but Bertone didn’t have the resources to fit an engine that would do justice to the car’s potential, so the X1/9, ceased production in 1988 without having fulfilled its sporting promise.

Lancia Montecarlo

Ironically, Lancia was ideally placed to be first with a mid-engined sports car with its narrow angle V4 front-wheel driver from the 1961 Flavia and 1965 Fulvia. However, it wasn’t until years later, after the last Lancia V4, that the FIAT group’s racing needs — and its requirement for a mid-size sports car — called for the X1/20 be drawn up using FIAT’s twin-cam motor.

The Lancia Beta appeared in 1972. FIAT’s idea of what a Lancia should be, it was a respectable design at the time, though clearly not Lancia inspired.

The Beta family soon grew, but the most adventurous Beta variant was the mid-engined Montecarlo Beta, the first idea for which emerged from Pininfarina in 1970. Coded X1/8, it represented a new departure for the coachbuilder as it wasn’t based on any existing production car chassis. Intended as a Fiat 124 Spider replacement and big brother to the impending X1/9, its designation was soon changed to X1/20, and the company worked closely with Abarth to build a 3.0-litre V6 prototype.

Following 1973’s oil crisis, the X1/20 was re-engineered to accept the Beta’s engine and gearbox. Pininfarina designed and built the new car, unveiled at the 1975 Geneva Motor Show. The X1/20 had now become the Beta Montecarlo — named to mark Lancia’s third Monte Carlo Rally victory. Although the Montecarlo’s twin-cam engine derived from the Beta unit, it was the first Lancia to use a new 1995cc configuration — with the engine transversely mounted behind the seats and tuned for 89kW (120bhp). Independent suspension all round was achieved by using MacPherson struts. Oddly, Lancia didn’t use its normal dual circuit braking system, instead opting for a split circuit with servo-assistance on the fronts only — this decision later caused many problems.

The Montecarlo’s reputation was helped by the Montecarlo Turbo race car’s domination; it won the World Championship for Makes in 1979, ’80 and ’81.

Early Montecarlos were recognisable by solid sail panels behind the cabin, which restricted rear vision. Later cars had glazed buttresses. It was available in either fixed head or spider versions, the latter with a clever folding roof-panel. In 1978 the Montecarlo was suddenly suspended from production, for reasons that weren’t credibly explained. This allowed Lancia to effect much needed modifications. The suspension was retuned to take advantage of new Pirelli P6 tyres; front and rear track was increased by 10mm; and 65-series rubber necessitated a wheel change from the car’s earlier, quite distinctive alloy wheels.

The Beta name was dropped, and Lancia solved the early car’s premature front wheel lock-up by removing the brake servo and fitting slightly larger brake discs. Alas, the revised Montecarlo was dropped in 1981. The Montecarlo is believed to be the first car with a bonded-in windscreen and fibreglass bumpers, the first designed and built by Pininfarina, and its soft top system was so cleverly designed, Pininfarina patented the concept. There are 14 Montecarlos in NZ, but only one running on the North Island.

Ferrari Owners

Peter and Maree Bockett achieved their dream of travelling the world through sheer hard work, and bought their Ferrari in 1996. As Peter says; “It was always our dream to own a Ferrari, we went over to the UK to find one, and having been told the straightest vehicles are selected to have the exterior painted black, that’s what we went for. We looked at 308 GT4s, Mondials, and QVs but realised the 308 GTB suited our expectations.

Our car was British market, registered new in 1981, the last RHD steel-bodied and carburetted 308 GTB built. Its six previous owners — including the Lord Mayor of London — had only completed 25,000 miles [40,233km] in the car altogether.

We brought it back to New Zealand, gave it a bare metal strip and repaint and a full engine rebuild (preventive maintenance), rebuilt the suspension and have carried out the general maintenance and servicing. “We get a huge amount of enjoyment from the car, having taken it to the South Island three times. Never any problems, it is just a dream to drive. We have met many wonderful people via the Ferrari Owners’ Club, all with the same enthusiasm for the marque.”

Fiat Owner

Maree Nicholle is going to Sydney to follow her nursing career, and will soon have to let her beloved X1/9 go. “The story of my 1989 Fiat X1/9 Bertone is rather short. There have only been four owners, including myself, and I’ve had it for the past 12 years. I bought it in December 1993 after I fell in love with the car’s style, and just had to have it. I have never been out of Auckland with it, but it has been my everyday transport for most of this time and it has been extremely reliable, apart from the little electrical problems and regular mechanical maintenance. “It is a great car to drive and the way it looks — do I need to say more? It is absolutely gorgeous, and it always gets noticed when being driven. I love it as it has been my baby but I feel now, after two years of trying to decide, that it is time to let it go, and my circumstances mean I can no longer use it as often as I would like.

Lancia owner

Onno Le Roy caught his father’s infectious enthusiasm for Lancias when growing up in Holland and Belgium. He brought an unfinished Montecarlo over with him when he immigrated to New Zealand, followed by his father who has started the Lancia register here. The car Onno brought is not the one you see here.

“My 1978 car was imported from Hong Kong in ’87; I am the sixth owner since then. My brother Robin spotted it years ago when it was in for service at The Italian Autocentre, in Otahuhu. I immediately drove out there. The car seemed to be in reasonable condition, but had quite a few ‘alien’ parts on it. It was owned by Frank Lester of Waiuku, but it wasn’t for sale.

“In August 2002, a silver Montecarlo was offered for sale at the Lotus dealer in Auckland. I immediately rang, only to hear it had been sold three hours earlier for a price I would have paid within two seconds.

“I felt pretty down and rang Frank Lester. Two days later he rang me, having decided to sell, but first I drove to Hamilton where I bought a trailer load of spare parts from Nelson Marshall, the previous owner of the silver Montecarlo I’d missed.

“My other Montecarlo is a LHD first series with a fixed roof and solid buttresses. Dad bought it in 1990 in Germany, and I brought it to NZ in 1996. It’s still in my garage and will be restored as soon as this black Montecarlo is finished.”

My drives

Three Italian mid-engine coupes, representing three different sizes of the same concept by the same manufacturing group. We also had three levels of preparation — an unrestored daily driver (the FIAT) a part-restored car (the Lancia) and the fully restored Ferrari.

The Fiat was amazingly good considering it had never been restored; yes there were rattles, and the steering wheel leather was losing its colour slightly, but its general condition for its age was absolutely superb.
It was the same with the Lancia; rattle free and beautiful inside, with only a few minor issues to prevent it from being a perfect car.

The Fiat is tiny, and can be hustled about the road just as you like. It’s a nimble, fleet-handling package that is actually screaming out for more power. The 1500cc engine does its job, but a rorty twin-cam in the back would be easy to achieve and would sound magnificent. Tall people have to work their leg around the steering wheel to get in, but once in place it is very comfortable and snug. Everything that is full-size in the X1/9 looks outsize in the cabin, and everything that is brought down to size looks tiny.

The X1/9 is a fun little package, and particularly with this remarkably unspoiled example you don’t have to pay a premium for being different.

Montecarlo

The first surprise about the Lancia was how good the gear change is. Stu’s Trim shop did such a good job on the interior you might think you were already in the Ferrari, but the raucous sports manifold reminds you there’s a four cylinder behind you. It’s such a stylish car inside; the open roof is so completely free of buffeting that you are immediately relaxed and happy.

The great torque and gear change encourage you to make use of the car’s excellent handling, although you must keep your concentration as the brake pedal is well left and lower than the throttle — excellent for heel-and-toeing once you are familiar with the layout. The steering is light and tactile, if a little low geared, but once again this feels like a chassis that could handle much more power.

Ferrari

The Ferrari is just bliss on wheels. It offers a luxurious but understated interior, and each of the controls a tactile delight. The carburettors, superbly set-up recently by Continental Cars, provide no reason for the later car’s fuel injection, and are only noticeable by the lovely induction howl. The engine has as much torque and power as you could practically use, and the gear change is so clean that you have no hesitation about snicking up or down a gear. You don’t need to most of the time, but the noise makes you do it.

Surprisingly, like the other two Italians on test, the Ferrari rides superbly, and the whole car inspires total confidence and feels as comfortable as a supple leather driving glove.

Fiat, Lancia or Ferrari?

No matter what your budget — big or small — one of these mid-engined sports cars should fit the bill. All three are packed to the brim with Italian brio, and each one provides a rather different driving experience from their more traditional, front-engined sports car rivals. As the man once said; you pays your money and you takes your pick — we loved them all.

The Ferrari 275GTB/4 was the last of its kind — the final Berlinetta built by an independent Ferrari (the car’s successor, the Daytona, was built under Fiat rule) and the last Ferrari built before US regulations exerted their influence. Tim drives the ultimate expression of the classic front-engined V12 Ferrari

Scuderia Ferrari and Michael Schumacher’s current domination of Formula One is not without precedent and, when Ferrari debuted the beautiful 275GTB at the 1964 Paris Salon, it was against a backdrop of the marque’s total domination at Le Mans and in sports car racing in general.

In those halcyon days sports car racing grabbed at least as many headlines as Formula One and, capitalising on this success, Ferrari released a long string of stunning, V12-engined GTs and sports cars, many of which have now become legendary. Drivers such as Gendebien, Frere, Hill, Bandini, Scarfiotti, Guichet and Vacarella had stood atop the podium of the world’s most famous race after 24 gruelling hours, proudly wearing the yellow shield and prancing horse on their overalls.

The 275GTB, with its simple unadorned lines, is arguably better looking than the GTO, yet unequivocally redolent of the sophisticated potency lying beneath its brawny shape

Ferrari was on a roll, and to stamp its authority at the end of that year John Surtees would claim the Formula One World Championship in a Ferrari. As the first customers were receiving their 275GTBs, Jochen Rindt and Masten Gregory would win Le Mans again in 1965 driving a 275LM.

For the new 275GTB owner, what better statement of crushing superiority than to own a car that looked for all the world like a road version of the charismatic 250GTO racer, and carried the same numerals as Rindt’s Le Mans winning 275LM?

It seemed as if the blood-red Ferraris were winning everything in sight, and if you had the resources you could own and drive a luxury grand tourer which bore all the hallmarks of Ferrari’s success, with that indefinable Italian brio which simply exudes style and character.

Racing pedigree

The Ferrari brand was arguably stronger and more exclusive then than it is today, and at the time of the 275GTB’s announcement only Ferrari was producing road-going V12 engines — the epitome of racing pedigree — and every owner could compete with some degree of success in their own Ferrari road car.

As a boy in the English Cotswolds I would stand on the fence at the home of the Ferrari and Bugatti Owner’s Club, watching and listening as incredibly wealthy individuals would scream up Prescott Hillclimb against the clock in the automotive jewellery they had driven to the event. At the time I didn’t understand the exclusivity attached to these cars, as I could watch them every other weekend only two miles from home, but I did know that no other manufacturer was building a car with a V12 engine. As well, these road cars were making their way up the hill in similar times to all manner of loud and spectacular racing cars. Sounding crisp and looking magnificent, mostly being driven swiftly and smoothly, they left a lasting impression with little more than a glorious muted howl and a chirrup of tyres. At the time the 275GTB was a new car there were probably more of them going up the hill than any other type of Ferrari. Interestingly, for a Ferrari, they were rarely scarlet, more often than not silver, yellow or black.

A true Ferrari road car

The 250GTO racing homologation special the 275GTB is so obviously modelled upon has become deservedly renowned in the collector’s world as probably one of the most expensive classic cars in history.

Pininfarina’s interpretation of that style — a long low bonnet and a tiny coupe canopy at the rear, with faired-in headlamps and a vestigial spoiler on the Kamm tail — was the model of good European taste during the ’60s, and also one which would stand the test of time. The 275GTB, with its simple unadorned lines, is arguably better looking than the GTO, yet unequivocally redolent of the sophisticated potency lying beneath its brawny shape.

The 275GTB represents the ultimate in what the cognoscenti believe is a true Ferrari road car. A V12 engine at the front; a sophisticated suspension and driveline; an uncompromising but beautiful shape; and the ability to be tested on the track without embarrassment. At the same time it could be whisked up and down the autostradas, autobahns and autoroutes to any glamorous destination faster than anything else. It is a practical Ferrari without compromise, no more or less than is required to achieve its regal task.

At the time the 275GTB was a new car there were probably more of them going up the hill than any other type of Ferrari

There are faster Ferraris, better handling, more powerful and more expensive Ferraris, but this is the optimal Ferrari. We all lust after a Ferrari; this is the one Ferrari owners lust after.

“Is the Pope Catholic?”

A lot of emails cross the editorial desk at NZ Classic Car, almost all of them interesting, and whilst we would love to, we simply do not have the time to absorb and reply to every one. With monthlies, yearbooks, specials and event deadlines to attend to, even finding the time for lunch can be a problem. However, the message we received from Paul Halford, who drives a rather nice Porsche on the Dunlop Targa, definitely caught the editor’s attention as he opened the dozens of emails that pour in every day.

“Hi Allan, I’ve just landed the above car. Do you have an interest in ‘doing’ a story on it? I just dug it out of the container on Thursday last week and it’s in Auckland, if you wanted to play with or photograph it. I hope it’s good enough for a story.” Short and to the point, nothing unusual in that request, but then Allan scrolled down and saw the Ferrari of all Ferraris; “Tim, come and have a look at this.”

Swallowing hard, eyes wide open and our jaws on the ground, we were both thinking the same thing — “Is the Pope Catholic?”

Just seeing a 275GTB/4 in the flesh would make anybody’s day, but the opportunity to absorb this ultimate piece of Swinging Sixties culture from the driving seat verged on a religious experience.

Pure-bred performance

We met Paul at Pine Harbour Marina, thoroughly in keeping with the car’s fine pedigree. For a while everyone just stood there staring at the Ferrari, dressed in its black Pininfarina suit. It was gorgeous from every angle; the 275GTB/4’s shining black paintwork was deliciously highlighted by optional chrome-spoked Borrani wire wheels. Simply delicious.

Generally Ferraris have very few kilometres on the clock, but due to their owner’s very high standards and the need to keep things in perfect order, and considering the car’s potential, the amount of maintenance can be considerable. Even a car that is left standing (this car spent some time in a museum) will need a complete renovation before being returned to road use. This 275GTB/4 carries with it a very complete set of records — a series of invoices that would have kept the RNZAF in Skyhawks for a few years.

The restoration work on this Ferrari is superb, and it’s likely the car is better than when it came out of the factory. All of the shut lines are perfect, and the doors close first time with a light pull and gentle click.

The business end

Paul fired up the Ferrari’s glorious quad-cam V12 — it was play time. A V12 starter motor is unlike any other. Instead of the usual, jerky up-and-down whine produced by a conventional unit, a properly sorted V12 starter motor just whistles a single extended note until combustion sustains rotation. Such is the case with Paul’s black beauty, and instead of crackling, chuffing and barking with the resultant clouds of blue smoke that attends most pure-bred performance cars on start-up, this V12 settled immediately into an even idle, with a very purposeful growl from its four exhaust outlets. There was a wisp of vapour as it cleared any unburned fuel. It was immediately obvious that this car had been set up by someone who really knows their way around 12 of Ferrari’s best.

Inside the car was originally cream-coloured, but now features ivory hides on the seats and trims. Looking at the seats there is no question that they were made for a car with considerable cornering ability. They surround the body yet cosset you comfortably with freedom to move. There is a foot-rest bar in the passenger’s footwell which is a little too close to the seat for me, so I use the toe-board to brace myself.

There are faster Ferraris, better handling, more powerful and more expensive Ferraris, but this is the optimal Ferrari

Sitting to my left, Paul takes the wheel and is very gentle and languid with the car as he takes care to warm up the V12’s innards, bringing each of the dials up to operating temperature. Ferrari gear changes are not known for their obliging nature and Paul guides the chromed lever through the exposed slots of the gear-lever gate very slowly. I ask him about the famed intransigency of early Ferrari five-speeders, but he says that this gearbox is fine. We’ll see.

Slot machined

With the Ferrari’s mechanicals nicely up to temperature, it is now my turn. There is no mistaking the gears, as each one has a slot machined in the tunnel cover to guide the lever. Like all my favourite five-speeders, first is a dog-leg to the left and backwards. The handbrake sits vertically to the left of the tunnel, more than arm’s reach from the seat. I’ve had handbrakes cause me all sorts of embarrassment in the past, and fully expected this one to play up, but it is simple and cooperative. Balancing throttle and clutch I find the right amount of momentum, and we pull away with a chirrup from the tyres as the limited slip differential does its work. First gear is quite high, but there is torque aplenty to haul us away.

Paul was right, of course, the gearbox is a dream — quite unlike any Ferrari I’ve driven. Snick-snick-snick, the gear lever glides through the gate as easy as that. The ratios are closely spaced and well mated to the engine, even though the gearbox sits at the opposite end of the car in tandem with the rear axle, with the prop-shaft rotating between them at engine speed.

The engine is extremely keen to rev, and I overdo the blips on down-changes before I get used to the V12’s incredible response. There is nothing like a powerful, high revving engine and a close-ratio ’box to play with, especially as the music between changes encourages you to swap cogs simply for the pure pleasure involved.

There is, however, a small price to pay for the experience — it is incredibly hot within the 275GTB/4’s cockpit with the Colombo’s V12 beating away up front and, although there is no transmission hump to pump heat into the car’s interior, inside it is sweltering. You can see open air through the vents behind your ear and by your shin, but whether that air was moving anywhere I doubt very much. Even with the windows wide open the car gets very cosy inside. I can see the Armani suit getting a bit unkempt during transcontinental summer trips.

Stop, look and listen

The wood-rimmed, alloy steering wheel is big by today’s standards but perfectly weighted for this car, with a little stiction about centre, probably just through lack of use — and some kickback over broken surfaces. Naturally the 275GTB/4’s ZF worm and roller steering cannot match the feel of a properly sorted rack and pinion system.

I am not about to measure the lateral G-forces achievable by this Ferrari, but I want to understand what a rear transaxle and a V12 up front feels like. Paul offers to get out of the car at this point, he says he wants to listen to it and admire it from the outside. I sincerely hope that’s why he wanted to get out!

Anyhow, I’m very aware of what I’ve been entrusted with and just drive the Ferrari along at an appropriate rate. The words that coursed through my mind whilst conducting the 275GTB/4 apace were ‘uno-animo’ and ‘simpatico.’ Honestly, you really do start to think in Latin, it is that charismatic. This is a car of one mind, faithful to your commands to such an extent that you can make rapid progress with very little effort; and all accompanied by the most glorious soundtrack you could ever want.

I can’t remember whether the Ferrari had a radio or not.

My ‘One-Day’ Ferrari

The owner of this month’s featured 275GTB/4 talks about his long quest in pursuit of the ultimate Ferrari

My introduction to Ferrari happened one night in Singapore, when a supposed-to-be business dinner turned into discussion on sports cars, my new acquaintance telling me about the Ferraris he had dotted around the world. He suggested I find a 275, but it had to be a four-cammer, and to start collecting from that point. I went home and learned about the 275GTB/4. What happened to the 10 years between then and now I don’t know, but the lust was burning away and I had to pick my time — which, on reflection, should’ve been back in the mid ’90s. I acquired my first Ferrari, a more modern second-hand example, and then Tim Bailey masterfully talked me into a new 355 Spider. I seem to recall this also happening with my first Porsche!

However, the 275 remained on my ‘one day’ list. Research proved that my Singaporean friend’s advice was sound, the quad-cam car was thoroughly developed and a more complete package.

I was impressed by the car’s lightness at 1100kg, unmatched by Aston, Bizzarrini, Lamborghini and Maserati. Another factor for me was that the 275 was the last model Enzo Ferrari had direct control over — shortly after, Fiat took a role in Enzo’s influence over the modellos. This meant to me that Ferraris produced up to 1968 were more ‘Enzo’ — therefore that extra bit more authentic.

More dirt

I had latched onto other four-cammers both in Europe and the USA, but not being Johnny-on-the-spot hindered progress. I found #9921GT at DK Engineering early in 2004. Black wasn’t what I had in mind, but it shows the lines off well. From what I could glean it was a very well restored car, but with little history. I commissioned Bob Houghton to do an independent report in the UK, and he said it was pretty exceptional but it could do with some dirt on it!

I did some extensive research on the internet and via email, and found that #9921GT was first delivered to Italy in May 1967 and after nine years appeared in Minnesota, USA. After spending 15 years in the States it went to Geneva, where it was fully restored.

Tracing the history of a car is a fascinating pastime, almost impossible if it weren’t for the internet and the international following that the marque has. There are some large gaps in #9921GT’s history but my intention is to gather as many facts about the car’s past as possible. I am sure there will be some horror stories to unfold — after many years there’s bound to be the odd skeleton in the cupboard. #9921GT came out of the container perfectly and, much to my relief, it looked even better on NZ soil than it had in London. The clutch had frozen on its travels but once we had freed that we were away, looking for some open country roads.

During NZCC’s road test, it was a magic experience watching my very own 275GTB/4 howl past me¦ before I thought, “why is that bugger driving my car instead of me!”

1967 Ferrari 275GTB/4

• Engine: All-alloy 60 degree V12

• Capacity: 3286cc

• Bore/stroke: 77 x 58.8mm

• Valves: quad-cam

• Comp Ratio: 9.2:1

• Max Power: 224kW (300bhp) at 8000rpm

• Max Torque: 313Nm (231lb/ft) at 6050rpm

• Fuel System: Six x Weber 40DCN9

• Transmission: ZF five-speed transaxle, LSD

• Brakes (F/R): Disc/disc

• Suspension: Independent all-round via wishbones, coil springs and telescopic dampers

• Steering: ZF worm and roller

• Wheels: Slotted alloy, optional Borrani wire

• DIMENSIONS
  Overall Length: 4410mm
  Width: 1725mm
  Wheelbase: 2400mm
  Kerb weight: 1100kg
• PERFORMANCE
  0-60mph: 6.2 secs
  Max speed: 267kph (166mph)

When picking a classic for their first attempt at a restoration, most would select a simple car. Too easy — instead Rob Wilby chose a Ferrari.

Since the early ’70s my passion for most things automotive has taken me to literally thousands of motoring events worldwide. It’s never ceased to amaze me the quality of workmanship in vehicles that just seem to appear from nowhere at each and every event. The people behind these cars are also special — people who defy all odds with such unwavering tenacity and commitment that they have made our hobby what it is today.

What’s so incredibly special about this story is the fact that Rob Wilby, the owner of our featured Ferrari, had never done as much as an oil change and didn’t even own a socket set before buying this mid-engined Italian classic. Yet he put his head down and, with immense patience and determination, carried out one of the finest restorations you will ever see.

The project begins

In late 2001, Rob and Julie moved from Wellington to Auckland. During the first weekend in their new house, over a coffee during unpacking, Rob spotted a Ferrari 308GTB for sale in the newspaper. Bearing in mind that he’d just bought her a lovely new home, he was emboldened to mention the Ferrari to Julie. Her reply was quite non-committal but, with typical male bravado, he took it as permission to proceed further, although with some caution. Rob’s journey towards Ferrari ownership had commenced.

When Rob first contacted Daryl Burke, the vendor of the Ferrari, the message over the telephone was brief and to the point: “I don’t want any timewasters — and, by the way, it’s not red!” Undeterred, Ron and Julie arranged a test drive — with Rob, an enthusiastic Ferrari F1 fan, hooked immediately. The car was duly checked out by Ferrari guru Alan Cattle, who pronounced it mechanically sound and, after a few more checks, a decision was made. Darryl’s words as Rob drove the silver Ferrari away — “It just needs a bit of touching up here and there Rob, nothing major!” Rob didn’t know it at the time, but his life was just about to change.

Seeking advice

Rob and Julie spent the next three years acquainting themselves with their new Ferrari, just the excuse needed for driving the car as often as possible. Rob also learned about Ferrari maintenance during this time, with Active Automotive refurbishing the brake system, installing a new clutch and completing general maintenance requirements. After some temporary cosmetic maintenance it became obvious that the car’s body needed major attention, and Rob sought some advice from fellow Ferrari Owners’ Club members and Derek Atkinson. The best advice Rob received was — “Do it once and do it well,” and, “There’s always three times as much rust on the inside as the outside!” In February 2005 a leaking radiator eventually became the catalyst for starting the restoration on the Ferrari, a daunting task considering Rob had never attempted a gigantic task such as this. He continued to seek advice from as many qualified people as possible, and was wise enough to take lots of pictures, write everything down, draw lots of diagrams, label all parts and most of all to be very patient.

Starting work

Rob, determined as ever to complete the car’s disassembly himself, started at the front by removing everything from the bonnet area, including the headlights and all the cooling, heater, brake and vacuum lines which would eventually be replaced with new items. At this point he discovered rusty areas in the frame and decided to leave the suspension on the car.

Rob’s patience was to be further tested as he focused his efforts on removing the front and rear glass, an operation requiring delicate trim to be removed first. Rob’s personal highlight was removing the engine. Fellow Ferrari owner, Nigel Derbyshire, was on hand to offer patient and humorous support as they carefully raised the engine from its mounts, ensuring no damage was caused to the body on the way out. After a few anxious moments the beautiful piece of Italian machinery was placed on the ground, much to the relief of Rob and Nigel. Julie was also on hand to help and witness the moment by taking many photos, and providing well-deserved cups of coffee.

At this point, the Ferrari was ready to move into Rob’s newly refurbished garage — and it became time to remove the Ferrari’s interior. Although the dash was left in place, everything else was removed, including the door trims. Rob was careful to ensure every part and electrical connection was clearly labelled to avoid confusion later on. With the glass removed the doors were finally unbolted from the frame, ensuring that all 18 electrical cables and connectors were left intact.

Messy work

Rob decided it was a good idea for his wife to visit her mum in the UK, a good move considering the next task — stripping the car — would take place on the driveway.

This stage turned into something of a nightmare for Rob. After injuring his hand trying to scrape paint off the roof with paint stripper and a razor blade scraper, he discovered that the layers of paint remained steadfast. Now it was time for the heavy artillery — an angle grinder and 3M pads. This didn’t go down terribly well with the neighbours as Rob, dressed like he had just returned from a space mission, covered everything in sight with light silver dust. Just as well Julie was away.

With the old paint and filler removed, Rob could now see rust in both outer and inners sills, behind the front wheels, rear pillars, rear boot, the areas around both screens, the door-frames and skins. Rob remembered Darryl’s final words — “It just needs a bit of touching up here and there Rob, nothing major!” — as he uncovered some dodgy sill repairs.

Rob sand-blasted and hand-sanded the remaining hard-to-get areas around the swage lines, channels and screen apertures before trailering the car to Derek Atkinson for some major repair work and paint. With the car gone, Rob was now able to tackle the huge task of cleaning and refurbishing the many boxes of parts, not to mention cleaning the silver dust from Julie’s beloved garden plants.

Surgery

After a few weeks Rob called by to see Derek and check how the surgery was coming along, and was surprised to see how much rust there was in the doors. The door-frames had been sandblasted and were ready for new sections along the bottom. Rob purchased new door skins from Ferrari UK, which were now almost ready for installation.

Both sills had been cut away, re-fabricated and were ready to be welded in place. The vertical sections of the rear pillars were corroded and had been replaced. The bottom of the side of the boot sections also needed replacement. Back home, Rob started cleaning and repainting the fuel tanks and coolant expansion tank. The dry sump oil reservoir and air box were treated to a black crackle paint finish, adding an authentic touch.

Meanwhile, Waitemata Hydraulics in Henderson assisted with the project by fabricating new oil lines; the original fittings were re-used with new metal braided hose sections. They also supplied all new rubber coolant lines, vacuum and heater hoses, fuel lines, clear petrol lines, oil seals, wheel bearings and other restoration supplies.

From silver to yellow

Julie returned from the UK in late 2005, and was ready to help Rob choose the final colour scheme for the Ferrari. Julie wanted to keep it original, but Rob suggested yellow to show off the car’s lovely Pininfarina-penned lines. Rob finally got his way, and Glasurit supplied an appropriate supply of Giallo Fly  paint. Julie and Rob were delighted when they saw their glistening yellow Ferrari in Derek’s workshop for the first time — Rob was so eager to get the car home he took the next day off work to help Derek put the doors, boot and bonnet on the car. Rob learned very quickly that this exercise required infinitely more care, time and patience than the removal, and after a few sighs of relief (from Rob) the car was ready for the trip home.

The stress of putting the Ferrari back together without scratching the fresh paint now began. Aware of the task ahead, Rob decided not to give himself any unrealistic deadlines, and to adopt an easy-does-it approach — starting with simpler tasks such as the tail lights and bumpers.

He was now ready to tackle the rear suspension components, completely disassembling everything for cleaning and repainting. A set of dolly wheels bolted to the chassis made life a lot easier, enabling him to move the car in and out of the garage when necessary. Once all the parts were packed with grease, and new bearings and CV boots were fitted, the suspension was then re-assembled. The refurbished fuel tanks and pump could now be slotted into place. Rob was starting to feel quite satisfied with progress, things were starting to look really nice, and the late nights in the garage alone, eating takeaway dinners, were now starting to pay dividends.

A fresh challenge

Putting the engine back into the car was always going to be a challenge, which made Rob nervous to say the least. With loads of foam rubber carefully draped over almost every surface — and with the help of Nigel and a friendly neighbour — the V8 was carefully lowered onto the mounts. Everything went according to plan, without scratching the bodywork. An hour or so later and the boys were celebrating with a few well-deserved bottles of beer. The next task was finishing the front of the car, including cleaning and degreasing the chassis, under-sealing, repairing the fibreglass wheel wells, painting the chassis, refurbishing the steering rack and re-installing the brake booster, radiator and fans.  The front headlights were tricky. The frames had to be re-installed so that as the lights popped up they didn’t touch and scrape the sides of the paintwork. Rob repeated the refurbishment of the front suspension so that it matched the rear, resulting in a pristine undercarriage without a speck of dust or dirt anywhere.  With all the suspension back in it was time to fire up the engine — with Nigel’s support and helpful assistance.

The sound of success

After a few minor electrical hiccups, the Ferrari’s 3.0-litre V8 fired into life — although very smokily and out of tune. After a quick trip into the house to reset the smoke detectors, Rob made a few adjustments to the distributor and swapped over a coil lead before cranking the engine over again.

“Bingo! Music in the garage!” The fantastic sound of a Ferrari V8 was soon echoing off the garage walls. This was an emotional moment for Rob, Julie and Nigel — what better than to celebrate than with a glass of champagne? Rob was now starting to sense the restoration was nearing completion with just the interior, glass and doors to complete.

The doors did, however, prove to be rather tricky, and they actually had to be removed again for the installation of the retaining brackets, another stressful time for Rob.

It was quite an easy task for Rob to re-install the interior vinyl trim, re-covered by a local upholsterer. Rob had the seats and steering wheel refurbished by the Leather Colouring Company. The seat upholstery had been cracked, especially on the bolsters, so were filled with resin, then the leather was re-dyed and given a coat of clear — just like new. With the external trim in place, it was time to fit the front and rear screens, a job completed by Ian from Auto Performance Glazing.

The Masters’ Class beckons

With Christmas approaching and the car nearly complete, Julie and Rob decided to have it ready for the NZCC/Ellerslie Concours d’Elegance in February 2007. This certainly gave them something to focus on. There were still 70 items on the to-do list. Nigel was a tremendous help over this period, as were other members of the FOC, and Julie of course, who had got the hang of cleaning and degreasing car bits by now. The last tasks included a final cut and polish and a WoF the Friday before the Concours.

Not having experienced the thrill of driving a Ferrari for some time Rob felt great to be back in the driver’s seat again. Naturally, the car looked sensational when Rob collected it, and on Saturday final preparations and cleaning were completed for the event.  Julie and Rob enjoyed the Concours and were delighted with their score, especially as they came close to matching the points tally of their rivals — two of which were entered by restorers who had previously won the Masters’ Class.Rob and Julie acknowledge that without the help and support of so many people the restoration of their Ferrari would not have been possible, and send a thousand thanks to all those involved with the project — especially Derek Atkinson and Nigel Derbyshire.

The Group B rallying era gave us a lot of things — some amazing technology and spectacle, a certain amount of tragedy, and some of the most fascinating road cars ever. The Peugeot 205T16, Lancia Delta S4 and MG Metro 6R4 are the most commonly remembered of these cars. Group B rallying also gave rise to some of the most intrinsically ugly motor cars ever to grace the sport. It is rarely recognized that Group B also inspired what became commonly voted as the most beautiful car of the 1980s, one which, however, never turned a wheel in anger in a Group B rally competition.

Ferrari is rarely associated with rallying, but did in fact have some success with the 308GTB — built to Group B and Group 4 regulations, from 1980 to 1982, and driven by the likes of Jean Claude Andruet in the Monte Carlo and San Remo rallies, among others.Until 1983 the two main classes of rallying were called Group 2 and Group 4. Major manufacturers competed in Group 4, which required a minimum of 400 examples of a competition car. Notable cars of the era included the Lancia Stratos, Ford Escort and Fiat 131 Abarth.

Group B, however, had few restrictions on technology, design and the number of cars required for homologation to compete

Group B was introduced by the FIA in 1982 as replacement for both Group 4 (modified grand touring) and Group 5 (touring prototypes) cars. Group A referred to production-derived vehicles limited in terms of power, weight, allowed technology and overall cost; the regulations aimed to ensure a large number of privately-owned entries. Group B, however, had few restrictions on technology, design and the number of cars required for homologation to compete. Weight was unrestricted, high-tech materials were permitted, and there was no limit on power. The category was aimed at car manufacturers by promising outright race victories, and the subsequent publicity opportunities, without the need for an existing production model.

Many manufacturers took up this challenge, rekindling spectator interest, but soon the speed of the cars and the number of spectators became an embarrassment, resulting in a series of fatal crashes. As a consequence Group B was cancelled at the end of 1986, and Group A regulations became the standard for all cars until the advent of WRC in 1997.

Ferrari Rally Car

It doesn’t take five minutes to develop a Group B car, and many manufacturers were well and truly committed to developing their challengers and building the necessary numbers to qualify for Group B. Many of them were still-born, but some manufacturers went on and built the cars anyway, many of them finding a niche in the European Rallycross Championships.

Lancia was amongst the first to design a new car to Group B specifications, the rear-wheel-drive Lancia 037 (based on the Lancia Monte Carlo) had the upper hand on tarmac, with the Audi quattro remaining superior on looser surfaces such as snow and gravel. With the usual malaise that is the Fiat Group, even though Lancia was Fiat’s official representative in rallying, Ferrari decided it wanted to be in on the act, as its proposed homologation special could also be used for GT racing. At least 200 examples needed to be made.

In 1984 Ferrari returned to the name GTO — Gran Turismo Omologato — a special grand touring road car designed to be produced purely for homologation into a competition category. The last GTO had been the 250GTO of 1962, which is now generally recognised as one of the most valuable cars you can own. As Group B developed the two-wheel drive cars floundered, and quite how Ferrari saw itself fitting into this scenario we shall probably never know, since Group B cars were immediately banned for 1987 after a series of accidents. However, the minimum required number of Ferraris were built and first shown at the 1984 Geneva motor show. They would find 273 lucky owners before production finished in 1987.

Perfect

The Ferrari 308 and 328, designed by Pininfarina, are amongst the world’s most attractive cars. Even Pininfarina’s key competitor, Giugiaro, described the original 308GTB as “the most perfect car I’ve ever seen.”

How Ferrari and Pininfarina transformed the 308 for the 288GTO was even more striking. Somehow, they avoided the use of big spoilers and gaping inlets which would adorn later Ferraris and other cars purpose built for homologation. The wheel arches were pumped outwards and more grilles appeared, but they just served to make the 288GTO more purposeful. In pictures it looks great, in real life it just makes you drool. It is an example of form following function, and function following form in equal measure. No fragmented airfoils here, just a purity of line that you never get tired of examining. Three vertical louvres reminiscent of those on the Bizzarrini-designed 250 GTO were carved into the rear wings.

They would find 273 lucky owners before production finished in 1987

The body used an array of exotic lightweight materials such as Kevlar-Nomex composite for the front lid and Nomex-GRP composite for the nose, roof, buttress and engine cover. Glass fibre was used for the doors, wings, sills and front and rear valances, whilst the louvres on the front lid were aluminium. Pininfarina achieved a Cd of 0.38, and whilst the exterior of the 288GTO clearly shows that it is based on the 308GTB, its overall length is 5mm shorter and its exotic construction over a tubular frame was quite different to the standard 308, and included a built in roll-cage. A glass fibre floor pan and a Kevlar-covered aluminium honeycomb cockpit and engine bulkhead were bonded to the frame.

Underneath the body there are major differences. Starting with the separate tubular steel chassis, carbon fibre inserts were used extensively for additional stiffening. Ferrari welded on specialised supplementary frames for the suspension and steering, extending the wheelbase and track, and making room for a vastly different engine location. A removable central panel made from Kevlar and Nomex composite allowed access to the front parts of the engine from inside the cockpit. Materials used in the car’s construction allowed weight to be reduced to 1160kg, despite its greater wheelbase and wider tyres, and the weight was perfectly distributed exactly 50/50 between the front and rear axles.

The suspension was largely similar to the 308, but GTOs used Speedline split-rim wheels that were significantly wider and larger than standard 308 items. Despite all the external similarities between the GTO and 308, the chassis of this Group B homologation special was 110mm longer in the wheelbase to accommodate a longitudinally mounted all-alloy Tipo F114B 90-degree V8 with dry-sump lubrication.

Fastest production car

The 288GTO was the first mid-engined V8 Ferrari road car to be fitted with a longitudinally mounted engine. The flat plane crank 4OHC V8, though sourced from 308, was reduced in stroke for a final capacity of 2855cc so that the car would pass the FIA’s coefficient for turbocharged engines, “capacity x 1.4 shall not exceed 4000cc.”

The GTO’s V8 was boosted by two small Japanese IHI turbo compressors running at a modest 0.8 bar through two intercoolers, made by Behr of Germany. With advanced engine management systems from Weber and Magneti-Marelli, this increased output to 298kW (400bhp) — almost 104kW per litre — and pumped up maximum torque to 366lb/ft (496Nm).

The car’s 0-96.5kph (0-60mph) times were in the upper four second range, and Ferrari claimed 0-201kph (125mph) in 15 seconds flat and a top speed which
was a staggering — for the time — 305kph (190mph). These astounding figures meant Ferrari’s 288GTO arrived as the fastest production car in the world on its 1984 launch. The ‘omologato’ designers had made substantial gains, even retaining a 120-litre twin rear fuel tanks, electric windows and air conditioning. By comparison, a standard bread and butter 308GTB, with its transverse-mounted V8, had a maximum power of 190kW (255bhp), which could push the production car to 248kph (154mph), and 285Nm (210lb/ft) of torque to get 1300kg from zero to 60mph in 6.5 seconds.

Evolution to F40

An evolution version of the 288GTO, with hugely revised bodywork, was first shown in 1986. This was to be Ferrari’s entrant for Group B events. Under its streamlined body lurked a more powerful (447kW/600bhp) version of the turbocharged V8. Five cars were constructed, but none of them ever entered a rally. From this the GTO simply became the first in an ongoing series, starting a trend for Ferrari collectors’ pieces. The 1987 F40, subsequent F50 and F60 Enzo grew out of unexpected success of the GTO. Homologation cars which had passed their use-by date generally hung around the factories forever, and were relatively worthless until their historic value became apparent. The 288GTO, however, was different, and inspired Ferrari to follow up.

The GTO’s V8 was boosted by two small Japanese IHI turbo compressors

Ferrari’s 40th anniversary model launched in 1987 — the F40 — had styling strongly influenced by the evoluzione model of the 288GTO and used a slightly larger version of the 288’s turbocharged V8 engine. The F40, however, was not equipped with most of the basic luxuries which made the 288GTO such a comfortable car to drive and, on the face of it, the most practical of all the Ferrari super cars to own. The 288 in its original form is also, in this writer’s opinion, the most beautiful of them all, having a pureness of form not evident in the later cars. It was also designed for a purpose, rather than just bragging rights.

Even though the original asking price for the 288GTO was around $80,000 during the ’80s, small production numbers and the cars’ exotic background soon drove values into the million dollar region. Today the 288GTO remains as one of the most sought after ‘modern’ Ferraris. With only 273 288GTOs produced, it is rare even by Ferrari standards — in 2004 one sold for US$302,500, and many ‘ordinary’ 308s have been modified to make them look like ‘real’ GTOs.

A GTO in NZ

This 288GTO was only recently brought into New Zealand from the UK, its owner Paul Halford having taken the opportunity of driving the car in the UK with Ferrari NZ’s Andy Booth and bolting across Europe to the Nürburgring for a few laps of the famous Nordschleiffe. As many of you will know, Booth is no mean pedaller himself, having won his fair share of New Zealand racing championships.

Paul regularly drives a Porsche in the Dunlop Targa, so the pair was able to use the Ferrari in the manner that was intended, an enviable experience. This 1985 car was first owned by an Arab who didn’t pick it up for two years! Another Arab bought it in 1989 for US$695,000 at the height of a soaring classic car market. He only managed 1400 kilometres in the GTO before selling it onto a sagging market to an English collector for a mere US$215,000. The Briton racked up a further 13,000 kilometres before selling it to Paul, who in three months has increased that to 17,000km.

The Experience

I was lucky enough to be invited to sample this thoroughbred myself — it was a rare pleasure merely to stand and look at the car and admire its perfect proportions.
To drive it is, in the true sense of the word, awesome. The 288GTO does not feel particularly devoid of creature comforts in the manner that we have become accustomed to for homologation specials and track day cars. It is simply slightly less opulent than most Ferraris, with the same delicate-looking switches and superbly clear Veglia instruments, a three-spoked leather-rimmed Momo steering wheel and suede-covered anti-glare dash. A Lusso package that included air conditioning, electric windows, a stereo cassette player and full leather trim could also be selected from new, which is what the original owner of this car had chosen.

Today the 288GTO remains as one of the most sought after ‘modern’ Ferraris

All 288GTOs were left-hand drive, which presents no difficulty and, to my surprise, the dog-leg first, five-speed transmission was a delight to use. In my previous experiences with 328s I found gear selection slightly notchy from cold, but this one was thoroughly sorted, quick and decisive. It needed to be because the torque is such that you need to be on your toes, as gear changes come up pretty quickly once you give it some squirt.

The twin IHI turbos give the car a most un-turbo-like feel, the power is very progressive, the hard-edged and meaningful engine note is not dominated by squishing turbos at all, it is all glorious Ferrari bark and one solid thump in the back followed by another each time you change up. It is an amazingly easy car to use, and the throttle can be used to control the attitude of the car, unlike many turbo or mid-engined cars. The awesome part of it is that there is the power to unlock those substantial rear tyres, and that it is done in such a gloriously progressive way through corners, just as you’d expect from a good sports car. A twitch of the wheel or a slight movement of the throttle gives immediate and faithful directional control.

The 288GTO really is the thoroughbred to beat all thoroughbreds. Whilst the power might seem brutal, it is not delivered in a manner that frightens you — it grabs your attention, certainly, but the chassis transmits it in such a way that it inspires true confidence and helps you conduct it in an appropriate manner, rather than frightens you into fighting it with trepidation. Also, unlike some exotica, the car is very well put together and devoid of rattles and squeaks, it has a compliant ride and I believe could be very easy to live with. A truly glorious opportunity, I am indebted to Paul for trusting me with his piece of automotive fine art.

1985 Ferrari 288gto (1984-87)

Engine: Mid-mounted, longitudinal
Type: F114B V8
Capacity: 2885cc
Max power: 298kW (400bhp) @ 7000rpm
Max torque: 495Nm (366lb/ft) @ 3800rpm
Power to weight ratio: 213kW/ton (350bhp/ton, or 0.25kW/kg)
Fuel system: Weber/Magnetti Marelli fuel injection
Valves: Four valves per cylinder, dohc
Turbocharger: Twin IHI turbochargers, Behr intercoolers
Boost pressure: 8psi
Body/chassis: Tubular space-frame, composite bodywork
Transmission: Five-speed ZF manual
Clutch: Borg & Beck twin plate
Suspension (F&R): Independent via double wishbones, coil spring, co-axial Koni dampers, anti roll-bar
Steering: Rack and pinion
Brakes: Ventilated discs
Tyres (F/R): 225-55ZR16/255-50ZR16
Wheels: Speedline split-rim alloy

Dimensions

Width / Height: 1910mm / 1120mm
Length / Weight: 4290mm / 1160kg
Wheelbase: 2450mm

Performance

Max speed: 305kph (190mph)
0-60mph: 4.0 seconds
0-100kph: 4.9sec
Production: 273

Ferrari 212E Ghia-Aigle Berlinetta

Owning a Ferrari is a dream for most people, and this early example is one that even Ferrari owners dream about — and it’s here in New Zealand¦

The end of the ’80s was a high for everyone who had a Ferrari. A growing interest in classic cars lead to a plethora of articles, manuals and books describing Ferrari series cars from the 166s through the 250s — then, in the early ’90s, came the crash that still haunts the values of some models today.

At the time of all this hype, the Ferrari 212 was given only brief attention — that brevity proving misguided, because these early cars make up the backbone of the Ferrari legend. This era was the basis for the road Ferrari took, and forms the bedrock on which the company stands today.

In 1951, Ferrari manufactured many different chassis including the 166, the 195 and its replacement, the 212. While the top of the range was represented by the 4.1-litre, 340 America, Ferrari also sold the 212 chassis as a customer race car. The race car was officially sold as the 212 Export, and was produced alongside the 212 Inter, which was aimed towards the touring customer.

Ferrari’s 212 was capable of winning the world’s most prestigious races, and it was this car’s victories between 1951 and 1953 that established Ferrari’s reputation. During the early ’50s the 212 became Ferrari’s best-selling model. Whilst by today’s standards not that many 212s were manufactured (a little over 100 of the 212 chassis were built), they came in a very large variety of body shapes. Inters accounted for 77 of these, with one MM (Mille Miglia), and the remainder were Exports from various Italian carrozzeria.

The Colombo V12

The 212’s engine was designed by Gioacchino Colombo. Two single overhead camshafts, using a triple chain to drive the camshaft and rocker arms, finger followers and inclined valves were integral with his overall engine design. The spark plugs sit on the inside of the engine’s vee.

As was Ferrari practice at the time, the 212 cars derived their type number from the total displacement of each cylinder in cubic centimetres — 212x 12. The difference between the 212 Exports and Inter’s chassis was, in reality, not that great. Twenty-seven cars received the Export racing specification, which included a large capacity fuel tank and special tuning for the engine. Various carburettors could be ordered on the engine which, as standard, came with a single Weber 36 DCF. As an option for the purchaser, some of the 212 Exports came with the triple Weber 32 DCF set-up.

The Inter was designed for use in Italy and usually carried odd numbers for the chassis serial number. The Export, with even chassis serial numbers, was for shipment out of the country, mainly for competition. Typically, and this is what makes tracing the histories of Italian cars such fun, Ferrari did not always abide by these rules — and confusion amongst records of specific models or serial numbers still exists to this day.

Our featured Ferrari, serial number 0137, is a typical example. Some differences seen between this car, chassis #0137, an Export, and #0141— a Tuboscocca Inter derivative — prove that Ferrari’s cars do not all conform to the general rule.

Some modern sources note and identify #0137 as a Type or ‘Tipo’ 212 Inter, but Ferrari factory records are clear that this was in fact ordered new and built as a Tipo 212 Export. The car’s ID plate, although stating it is an Export, does not always convince everyone. Several noted experts, including Bill Noon and writer Stanley Nowak (Ferrari on the Road), agree the car is a 212 Export. Cavallino magazine notes that #0137 has had some controversy over its correct designation, but stated in a previous issue — “¦and it is a real 1951 212 Export Lungo Berlinetta with a rare body by Ghia-Aigle of Switzerland.”

Body by Ghia-Aigle

At the time, it was typical for Ferrari to sell its cars as rolling chassis and leave the customer to choose a carrozzeria to build the body and interior. The Ferrari coupes, spiders and barchettas were bodied by firms such as Ghia, Pinin Farina, Scaglietti, Touring, Vignale and Ghia-Aigle, to mention just a few.

After World War Two, Giacinto Ghia was a broken man because the allied bombers had hit the Ghia works, and nothing remained. He returned to Torino to supervise the reconstruction of the factory, but died suddenly on February 21, 1944. He was only 56 years old. Ghia’s widow wanted to continue her husband’s carrozzeria under his name, and offered what was left of the company to two of Giacinto’s best friends, Giorgio Alberti and Mario Felice Boano. The latter took control after being offered the position of director, and soon re-established Carrozzeria Ghia at Via Tommaso Grossi in Torino. Four years later the company moved to new premises at Corso Unione Sovietica.

In 1950 Carrozzeria Ghia began the production of Ferrari coupe bodies in small numbers with the emphasis on luxury. Giacinto Ghia’s original directives remained unchanged; limited luxury production, and insistence on quality over quantity.

Thirty-year old Luigi Segre was hired to handle a just established Chrysler of America connection and quickly became managing director of Ghia, concentrating his efforts on Gran Turismo coachwork. In 1953 Mario Boano left Ghia to open up his own carrozzeria together with his son, Giampaolo. At that time Ghia moved its facilities to a new location on via Agostino da Montefeltro, within a few miles of its old building.

From this time the Ghia-bodied Ferraris were strongly influenced by some of the Chrysler dream cars, which the firm was also building as prototypes for the US manufacturer. Eventually, Ford took a controlling interest in Ghia, and the company became Ford’s Italian styling studio and simply became a label attached to ersatz luxury Fords.

The Swiss Connection

The name ‘Aigle’ refers to Aigle in Switzerland, a coachbuilder which subcontracted to Ghia. In the case of our featured car, it formed a body to a strikingly beautiful design by Giovanni Michelotti, who was acting as a freelance whilst still under contract to Alfredo Vignale. In the late ’40s Mr Philippi of Aigle, Switzerland, owner of an automobile repair shop, visited Carrozzeria Ghia in Torino. He asked to use the name Ghia for his own coach-building business. The men in Torino agreed, sold him a license and hence Philippi’s Ghia-Aigle coachworks were born.

The French word Aigle means Eagle in English.

In 1951 Ghia-Aigle bodied two Ferrari 212 Exports, chassis number #0137 being an Export Berlinetta and #0195 an Export coupe. The badge the carrozzeria used was a brass plate with red, white and blue enamel, an eagle with wings spread and script Ghia-Aigle Lugano.

Michelotti’s drawings were transformed from pen and paper to coachwork by the respected Swiss firm, and the coachwork for #0137 is the only known example executed to this design. While completed as a road car and fitted with a full interior, the chassis was built according to Ferrari records as an Export Lungo (Export Long) which is normally associated with Ferrari’s race designs. It is believed the car has a competition heritage, and the current owner would be most grateful if anyone can supply further details in this regard.

The provenance

Basically, the Inters weighed around 950kg and the Export about 150kg less at 800kg. Their respective wheelbases were 2600mm and 2250mm. Our featured Ferrari, #0137, has a wheelbase of 2480mm. Engine compression ratios were about 7.5:1 for the Inter and 8.0:1 for the Export, while power output ranged between 97kW (130bhp) to 127kW (170bhp) for either designation. Generally speaking, the Inter’s power was in the lower range and the Export at the higher range, and fuel capacity was greater in the Exports at 120 litres, around 34 litres more than the Inters.

The fuel tank of #0137 takes up most of the boot area, its 120 litres fed through a huge ‘Monza’ filler cap located in the boot.

Chassis number #0137 has the official title of Ferrari Carrozzeria Ghia-Aigle. Presumably Tipo 212 and Export would be in its description somewhere too.

The Ghia-Aigle factory issued a sales brochure for chassis #0137 in 1951 (which the current owner inherited), selling it as a Ferrari 212 Export by Ghia-Aigle.

In early 1951, shortly after completion, the car was sold new to a Swiss resident, Mr Thiebaud. The factory two-piece windshield was updated early in its life to a single-piece unit, and bumpers were added front and rear. The exterior of the car was rather competition-oriented in nature, and notably void of superfluous chrome or aluminium trim. No bumpers were initially fitted at the front or rear.

Chassis #0137 was later exported to the United Kingdom and registered on UK plates EAM 212L. It was purchased (around 1975) and later offered for sale by noted Ferrari enthusiast and connoisseur, Dan Margulies of London. The next custodian of this Ferrari was a Mr Buckland, who took the car to several shows and events. In 1985, it was exported from the UK to the United States. It was owned for several years by Robert Marceca, and was frequently seen at a variety of Ferrari Club events throughout the ’80s and into the early ’90s.

I believe Mark McClintick bought the car in 1992, and received a second in class for the National Concours in Grand Rapids in the same year. In 1995, it was sold by Symbolic Motor Car Company to Emile Yamano, and exported to Japan.

Yamano had the car carefully restored and prepared for vintage historic touring and racing events, and competed with it at numerous venues over the years. Most notably, Yamano and his daughter raced the car in the Mille Miglia, wearing race number 245.

In 1998 the Ferrari was purchased by Yoshijuki Hayashi. The next year, it became part of the growing Japanese Matsuda Museum Collection. The car was then sold to an American, Charles Arnott, who used it regularly and entered it in the Mille Miglia and several other events, local and overseas. It was finally shipped to New Zealand in 2004.

The Drive

Getting into the 212 is akin to getting into one of today’s supercars. The steering wheel is located virtually above the front of the driver’s seat, and instead of entering the car foot first, it is easier head first, before then somehow executing a triple lutz, which will plonk you in the exact position for driving.

There is tilt-adjust on the seat, but so little that it may as well not be there. Starting the car is by a push switch on the right-hand-side of the dash. No choke is needed to stir the V12 engine into life. In the colder months, a few pumps on the accelerator while turning the engine are all that is needed.

The painted metal dash holds a tachometer (with water temperature and oil pressure gauge) and speedometer (with fuel and clock). The pull switches for ancillary items feature white ceramic knobs, and are laid out in a systematic pattern — which you find out about by experimentation. All the knobs are the same, but a couple of minutes in the car logs them into your memory.

These earlier V12s have a magnificent sound. The heart, body and soul of all 12 cylinders, all valves, tappets and air intakes operating in unison can be heard in that burble emanating from the exhaust.

The gears are in a five-speed pattern with first at top left. Reverse requires you to push a button on top of the gear lever and locate the shift to the bottom right. Ferrari had a five-speed ’box and a four-speed available in the ‘50s.

First is non-synchronised, as is second, with third and fourth synchronised and fifth an overdrive gear. Getting second gear is difficult while the gearbox oil is cold, so starting the day’s drive from first to third is a normal routine. But there is plenty of torque available to cope with the missing second gear.

Third to fourth is a regular change, maybe a double-declutch. Not really necessary, but it feels good. Back down the gears is pretty much the same, with third to second requiring a double-declutch and being much easier than going up the gears. To go back into first it’s advisable, if you do not appreciate the sound of precious metal being roughly machined, to stop the car.

Driving around narrow and twisting roads, up and down the gearbox, is what this car was designed for — doing this is probably more fun on this type of road in a 212 than in a modern Ferrari F40.

There is immense pleasure in the difference this car has to a more modern car, particularly noticeable, for example, when you perfect the timing of your shift from first to second without audible complaint from the transmission. Practice makes perfect. The car draws you into itself, and the whole day becomes very pleasurable. However, it is not a car you would drive every day, as much more concentration and care is needed to drive this than any modern car at the same speed. But then again, if you drive a classic you will know that, and it is why you derive enjoyment from driving it.

This 212 is the realisation of a boyhood dream for the car’s current owner, being eligible for nearly every grand motoring event conceivable — including the Tour de France, Targa Florio, Mille Miglia, Colorado Grand, California Mille and Carrera Panamericana. I suppose all that has to be done is to make the time.Ë™