NZ Classic Car’s editorial team take a break, size up some future feature ideas, sample the fare offered at the Formosa Golf Club and, just for good measure, road-test a Porsche Cayman S

During the course of the working year, NZ Classic Car’s lead editorial team (all two of us) don’t often get a chance to relax and take a breather – from the moment we start work on the first issue of the year the copy, production and print deadlines pile up on top of each other leaving little room for idle reflection. As I discovered when I took over the Deputy Editor’s reins from Tim Nevinson, the job is definitely of the 24/7 variety. Mind you, I’m not complaining (no one would listen anyway) – I mean, there are very fews occupations that allow you to combine a love for classic cars with a regular pay-packet!

However, during a recent round of planning meetings, NZ Classic Car’s loyal and hard-working sales team must’ve felt that the editorial team were looking at little frayed around the edges – not too surprising as we’d been working without a break since the latter half of January. As such, they came up with a scheme which would allow us to take a day off, enjoy a drive in a comfortable, modern sports car and, just to round everything off, they also arranged for us to enjoy lunch at a local luxury golf resort. Typically, of course, we also decided to use the ‘day off’ to visit a few ‘car’ people – a busman’s holiday.

Our day would start, of course, with the picking up of our ‘chosen’ car.

Porsche Cayman S

I have to admit, on it’s initial launch a few years ago, my first reaction to the Porsche Cayman was that it was basically a Boxster with a roof – in other words, a car for blokes who couldn’t afford a 911 and definitely not a ‘real’ Porsche. That was until I got behind the wheel of the latest Cayman S for a day thanks to the good folk at European Motor Distributors. As I approached the car from about fifty metres away my thoughts were – why have Porsche tried to make a Boxster look like its bigger 997 cousin. But, as I slowly absorbed the Cayman’s flared wheel arches, beautifully tapered rear end – designed around its mid-mounted engine – my thoughts began to change; this car looks great, although probably a little smaller in real life than I imagined it to be.

NZ Classic Car first tested a Cayman back in March 2006 (GT Newcomer) but the car has been further developed since that time. The Cayman S engine having grown in capacity from 3386cc to 3426cc, with a consequent increase in both power and torque. The ’06 model boasted 217kW, whereas the current model pumps out a very healthy 235kW (that’s 320bhp for those stuck in ‘imperial mode’). Torque is up from 340Nm to 370Nm, and Porsche now list the Cayman S’ 0-100kph time as 5.2 seconds. As such, there’s plenty of performance on offer and certainly enough to punt the Cayman’s less-than-svelte 1350kg (up 10kg on the older model) to an estimated top speed of 277kph (172mph). Despite these performance upgrades, the NZ list price for the six-speed manual Cayman S remains unchanged at $155,000.

First Leg

Climbing into the Porsche for the first time was a little awkward for me – not the car’s fault as I’m not really used to driving sports cars on a daily basis. Once inside, you notice how low to the ground the car actually is. The seating position is not exactly super comfortable to begin with – with it’s typically Teutonic rock-hard seats – and once you’ve jiggled around a bit and found the right position that’s pretty much it as there’s not a lot of room for movement.

My first mission for the day was to head out to Patumahoe to pick up Allan, which also gave me a chance to familiarise myself with the Cayman in different driving conditions. In heavy Auckland city traffic I found the car an absolute breeze to drive – I have to say that the six-speed manual gearbox is a gem, in fact I found the whole control set extremely simple, providing nice feel and feedback.

Once on the Southern Motorway I was able to settle into a nice rhythm, although my right leg and foot were just starting to present symptoms of numbness, due to the offset pedal position, something synonymous with Porsches.  Once off the motorway via the Drury turn-off, I was able to stretch the Caymans legs a little on the country roads leading out to Allan’s place and began to get an appreciation of what this sports car was all about.

The Cayman’s unerring sense of balance shone through in spades when you begin to push it hard and with precise handling it was incredibly fun to drive. The anti-lock brakes, consisting of monobloc four-piston calipers and cross-drilled ventilated rotors, performing their task more than adequately. I found the steering and feel for the road tight and stiff, a feeling that I was starting to enjoy as the Cayman really started to show its Porsche heritage. One thing to remember, the Cayman is based on the Boxster platform, therefore the engine is about 200mm behind your head, just forward of the rear driven wheels. To be honest, I wasn’t a big fan of the sound, especially under load – when, to my ears, it sounded like a vacuum cleaner on steroids – but maybe that’s because I’m used to the rumble of a big old V8! Mind you, I was slowly getting used to the Cayman’s distinctive flat-six sound.

Once at Allan’s, it took me few seconds to stretch my legs and regain some degree of feeling back into my right side and then it was his turn to take the controls.

Our first destination was a quick stop at Auto & Aero Restorations, a newly formed company owned by Tony Antonievich. Tony, a fully qualified aircraft engineer, is currently re-jigging his company and plans to add car restoration to his already well established aircraft engineering business. You may remember that we featured Tony’s beautifully restored ex-Dennis Marwood Camaro on our front cover in February this year. As well as checking out Tony’s revamped workshop – which now includes a very specialized body and panel blasting facility and, when complete, a heated spray-painting booth – we also wanted to take a look at the ex-Rod Coppins Firebird, which is currently under restoration by Tony’s specialist team. We’ll be following the restoration of this historic race-car with interest, so watch out for more on the Coppins’ Firebird in a future edition.

18th Hole

After departing Tony’s workshop, I took over the Cayman’s control again and we headed off to the Formosa Auckland Country Club to take a few shots of the Cayman and grab a spot of lunch. Our journey took us through the Whitford Gorge, giving me more opportunities to get a feel for the Cayman’s blistering performance and well-balanced handling.

Upon our arrival at Formosa, located alongside Pine Harbour Marina, their Event Manager, Stacey Gannaway, greeted us gave us a quick rundown on the facilites on offer, then informed us that we had permission to take the car onto the golf course at the 18th hole. A spectacular ‘artificial’ waterfall had also been turned on especially for the occasion and it provided a great backdrop for our pictures and, with the guidance of Formasa’s Golf Director, Gerrie Viljoen, we were able to place the Cayman onto the fairway directly in front of the waterfall.

For those unaware, the Formosa Auckland Country Club is truly a hidden piece of paradise, just 40 minutes south of central Auckland, it boasts uninterrupted panoramic views of the Hauraki Gulf.

The complex not only features a world class golf course, but also 50 Villas that can accommodate up to 150 guests, a state-of-the-art sports complex – complete with indoor heated swimming pool, sauna, tennis and squash courts and fully equipped gymnasium facilities as well as a driving range. Formosa also offers six function rooms that can cater for up to 200 people and, just for good measure, there is also a fully licensed restaurant and bar.

Allan and I dined in true style – and, despite the Formosa’s air of luxury, an excellent two course lunch is available for as little as $18 a head. Having allowed a decent amount of time for a very tasty dish of butter chicken to go down, we climbed back into the Cayman for the next leg of our short journey.

Gridlock

After a brief stop at Maraetai Beach to snap a few more shots of the Cayman, we headed off around the coast towards Clevedon. The twisting road connecting Maraetai Beach to Kawakawa gave me ample opportunity to really put the Porsche through its paces and, as we flashed along the road, I found myself thoroughly enjoying the drive.

By the time we arrived at our destination, the Cayman’s water-cooled flat-six was well warmed up. We had driven to Clevedon to visit Robert McNair and check out his home workshop. Robert is the son of famed specials builder, Wallace McNair. Wallace will be well known to our readers as the builder and owner of an aero-engined Sunbeam which once featured in NZ Classic Car.

Robert, who seems to have picked up his father’s skills, was kind enough to lend us his Porsche 944 (Future Classic, July 2010) and is also building a Bugatti quite literally from scratch for an Auckland client. The level of skill being lavished on this Bugatti is quite extraordinary and it’s partly finished alloy body is an absolute joy to behold – proving that the specialist body-builder is still alive and kicking, at least in New Zealand. Robert has also just completed a 1931 Riley 9 boat-tail sports car and, as you’d expect, this beast is powered by a 6.1-litre aero-engine. We hope to feature this rather special Riley once it’s been finished to Robert’s exacting standards.

With our visit to Robert, our day off was quickly running out and it was time to head back to Patumahoe before returning the Cayman.

Once I had dropped Allan off, with some trepidation, I prepared myself for Auckland’s atrocious peak hour traffic. Back behind the wheel, on the 24 kilometre leg from Patumahoe to the Southern Motorway, I found that I had now become well used to the Cayman and, via its lovely and snappy gearbox, I found myself really utilizing the car’s full 235kW, 3.4-litre flat-six. There’s certainly enough grunt to get you into trouble over public roads. Alas, from the point when I drove onto the motorway, any thoughts about sampling more of the Porsche’s sparkling performance waned as the traffic began to back up.

On the slow drive back to Auckland I had plenty of time to reflect on the Cayman S, and began to realise that, with this model, Porsche had created viable step up from the Boxster, cleverly plugging the gap in the market between the Boxster and the larger, more expensive 997 (911) in terms of price, performance and overall specification. Some may see Porsche’s creation of the Cayman as a bit of a cynical marketing ploy rather than the design of a truly individual car; a car damned by its parts-bin design. However, after a pleasant day in the Cayman S, it slowly dawned on me that its design philosophy would appeal to those searching for compact, lively and elegant sports car, one built to the highest levels of quality.

Marketing exercise or not, the Cayman S is quite definitely a genuine Porsche – and, what about our short editorial holiday? Well, I think we’ll be organizing another one sooner rather than later.

2010 Porsche Cayman S- Specifications

Engine: 3436cc, water-cooled flat-six
Max power: 235kW at 7200rpm
Torque: 370Nm at 4750rpm
Transmission: Six-speed manual (as tested)
Suspension: MacPherson design, spring, strut axle with transverse arms
Brakes: Cross-drilled ventilated discs, ABS
Wheels/Tyres: 235/40 R18 front, 265/40 R18 rear
Dimensions:
Length 4341mm
Width 1801mm
Height 1305mm
Wheelbase 2415mm
Kerb weight 1340kg
Performance:
0-100kph 5.2 seconds
0-160kph  11.4 seconds
Top Speed  277k/ph
NZ new price: $155,000 (manual) $161,000 (auto)

Words: Ashley Webb Photos: Allan Walton

Some cars from the ’80s and ’90s are now approaching classic status and, in this series, we look at some of them.

Most Porsche purists will tell you that a front-engined Porsche simply isn’t the real thing – if it doesn’t have a rear engine it just can’t be a Porsche. I say let the purists have their opinion, because that means that on the second-hand market, front-engined Porsches represent a genuine bargain compared to their rear-engined brothers. And due to their far better weight distribution, Porsche fronties are also less likely to bite back at inexperienced drivers.

So, what are the choices? Well, there’s always the V8-powered 928, a big and heavy car best suited to long distance work. However, although 928s can now be picked up very cheaply, ongoing costs may be very high.

Even cheaper to buy is the 924 – although it’s hard to find examples which haven’t been thrashed to death and, with the best will in the world, the 924’s VW-Audi engine is hardly a paragon of either power or civility.

A far better option than either of these is the 944, a car conceived to replace the 924 as Porsche’s entry-level model and, unlike the car it was based on, the 944 is at least powered by a genuine Porsche motor. In S2 Turbo form, a well-driven 944 was easily capable of seeing off most 911s.

Entry Level Porsches

Some would see some irony in that fact that Porsche – with its first car essentially a derivation of the quintessential ‘peoples’ car’ – didn’t actually attempt a low-price, entry level car itself until 1969. That model was, of course, the VW-Porsche 914. The 914, available in 1.7, 1.8 and 2.0-litre form, didn’t go down too well with Porsche die-hards, who disliked the basic VW 411 engine and its mid-mounted position. Perhaps they’d forgotten Porsche’s VW antecedents or, more likely, didn’t want to be reminded of them!

Of course, to many a mid-engined sports car seemed rather more practical than one with an engine dangling over its rear axle. However, not everyone felt that way, and Porsche was able to unload over 115,000 914s from 1969 to 1975. It even attempted to upscale it by fitting the then current 911T six-cylinder engine for the 914/6. Alas, that model was a bit of a sales disaster, with only 3332 examples being sold between 1969 and 1972.

Once the 914 had bowed out in 1975, Porsche was back to a single model again; the 911. And, although it probably hadn’t intended to produce another entry level model, other factors made Porsche change its mind.

VW-Porsche Vertriebsgesselschaft

In 1972, VW-Audi approached Porsche with a view to having it design a new sports car utilising standard VW and Audi parts.

Accordingly, Porsche came up with a fairly conventional front-engined, water-cooled car, but opting for RWD rather than the FWD configuration preferred by VW-Audi. It also specified a rear-mounted transmission – transaxle – for improved handling balance and weight distribution.

The new car had been planned to carry an Audi badge, but the oil crises of the ’70s put it off producing a wasteful sports car. So, rather than waste all that effort, Porsche took over the car and the 924 was born, with production commencing in 1976.

Once again, die-hard Porsche traditionalists were horrified – and this time they were also confronted by a water-cooled car, a major break with Porsche’s established air-cooled philosophy. To many enthusiasts the new car was simply not a genuine Porsche – but that didn’t stop the 924 becoming the brand’s top-seller.

However, while there was no doubt of the 924’s sales success, what Porsche needed was an entry level car with a bit of pedigree – in short, a 924 with a ‘proper’ Porsche engine.

From 924 Carrera GT to 944

In essence, Porsche simply chopped one bank of the 928’s V8, which left a 2.5-litre, all-alloy four-cylinder engine – although very few parts were interchangeable between the two motors.

Large capacity four-bangers are not renowned for being particularly smooth, so Porsche chose to fit the new engine with two counter-rotating balance shafts to smooth out engine response. Although this type of engine balancing measure had originally been devised by Frederick Lanchester in 1904, the idea had been developed and patented by Mitsubishi – which meant Porsche was forced to pay a licensing fee to the Japanese auto-maker.

With the engine finalised, Porsche then did what it has always done best – take an existing car and further develop it, something it had done with the 356 and, of course, at that time was continuing to do with the 911.

The 924 platform was completely revised, including improved suspension and braking. When it came time to design the new car’s body, Porsche looked at the 924 Carrera GT – a limited edition version of the 924 which had featured a radical plastic body kit, including bulging wheel-arch extensions. With a few revisions, the 944’s body was basically a redesign, in steel, of the Carrera GT.

With the addition of an all-new interior and better equipment levels, the Porsche 944 made its debut in 1982.

944 Variations

With a wider track that the old 924, the 944 was inherently the better-handling car and also featured much improved performance – although the early, normally aspirated 944 was marginally slower than the outgoing 924 Turbo.

With its butch, flared guards and low stance, the 944 also looked more aggressive and muscular than the slightly effete 924.

The first 2.5-litre 944 models arrived in New Zealand during 1982, with the base car gaining a larger, slightly more powerful 2.7-litre engine in 1989.

During 1986 Porsche introduced the first serious 944 performance derviation with the 944S. Eschewing the base sohc engine, the S was fitted with a more powerful, 16-valve twin-cam engine. The car’s chassis needed only a few changes to handle the extra urge, and in 1989, with the introduction of the S2 model, engine capacity was increased again, this time to 2990cc, while wheel size went up to 16 inches. The new S2 was also available as a convertible for those who preferred open-air motoring.

Meanwhile, the first turbocharged 944 made its appearance in 1985. Porsche fitted a KKK turbo and a Bosch engine management system to the single-cam 2.5-litre engine, tweaking it to produce a healthy 164kW. Interestingly, the 944 was the first car ever to use a ceramic port-liner to retain exhaust gas temperature. In order to get the best out of the improved power, Porsche strengthened the gearbox, stiffened up the car’s suspension and added wider, 16-inch wheels – seven inches up front and eight at the rear. Oil coolers were also fitted for both transmission and engine.

The S2 Turbo received a larger turbocharger, a revised camshaft, even wider rear wheels and a limited slip differential to better handle the new output of 187kW. Easily identifiable through their twin cooling slots up front, the S2 Turbo was listed at close to $180,000 when new. A turbocharged cabriolet was introduced in 1991 – Porsche originally only intended to produce 500 of these models but, by the time the limited production run was complete, 625 had been built.

Other changes included the addition of anti-lock braking in 1987 – which meant the traditional Fuch alloy wheels were no longer available for the 944. In the same year, dual front air bags also became a standard fitment – another production car first.

By the early ’90s, Porsche was already working on a third evolution of the 944 but, as development work progressed, what had originally been intended to be the 944 S3 eventually became a 944 replacement – the 968. Porsche discontinued 944 production in 1991, with the 968 appearing the following year.

On the Road

Step into any 944 and, like all Porsches, the driver is confronted by a relatively plain interior – don’t expect any TVR excesses! The later, so-called ‘oval dashboard’ cars look better, but the look is purposeful rather than dramatic.

As well, having morphed from the 924, the 944 inherited that car’s rather low steering wheel. In truth, it’s not as badly sited as it is in the 924, but taller drivers will still find their legs getting in the way when at the wheel.

However, these are all minor points and, as a whole, the 944 makes a good compromise between handling and ride comfort – it is neither too hard to be uncomfortable over long journeys, or soft enough to roll during hard cornering. Even drop-top versions are little compromised by loss of rigidity, proof of the 944’s solid construction.

Early normally aspirated cars have to be rowed along through their gears; the 944’s big four-banger is a peaky motor, and you need to work hard at it in order to release the performance that’s available. This engine thrives on being given the whip, so don’t spare the revs.

By comparison, later multi-valve engined cars offer more power, more easily accessed, while the S2 cars are the nicest to drive and the last-of-the-line 3.0-litre cars – with their extra helping of torque – are great city-to-city GTs. Of course, for outright power the Turbo – especially in S2 guise – is a real road-burner, easily capable of seeing off a modern Boxster S.

Whilst designing the 944, Porsche ensured good weight distribution by mounting a torque-tube running from the engine to the transaxle gearbox mounted at the rear. It’s a system that works very well, gifting all 944 variants with well-balanced handling. Equally, steering featured good weight and feel and, along with the 944’s excellent weight distribution and secure braking, it all makes for very neutral handling, pinpoint steering precision and rapid on road progress.

In short, a well sorted 944 is a joy to hustle along quickly.

Buyers’ Guide

Like most Porsches, the 944 features excellent build quality and largely due to this, this is one sports car that is quite happy to be pressed into use every day. Of course, this does mean that many 944s will now have completed high distances – and, as major mechanical work can easily exceed the purchase cost of a tired example, its essential to select a car with a comprehensive service history. At the very least you need to ascertain that the car’s engine has been properly maintained. For example, rubber timing belts should be replaced at least every 80,000km. Belt failure can result in catastrophic engine damage.

Engine mounts should also be checked, as those on the exhaust side have a tendency to fail due to excess engine vibration at idle. Water pumps should also be checked carefully, as if the pump fails it will seize the timing belt and damage the engine. Alas, the 944’s water pump is not easily accessible and replacement is definitely a specialist operation.

Steering fluid reservoirs are also known to be prone to leaking due to poor hose clamps while, especially for cars that have resided in NZ since new, dashboards can split.

Turbocharged 944s are fitted with a small pump that continues to pump coolant after the engine is shut down. You should be able to hear the pump whirring for around 30 seconds after turning off the engine – if you can’t hear anything, a replacement pump will be required.

However, if properly maintained the 944’s engine is capable of achieving huge distances and, with its fully galvanized body, rust will only be a problem on accident-damaged cars that haven’t been repaired correctly, or on severely neglected examples.

Although it’s possible to pick up an early 944 for less than $10,000, buyers need to be aware that a cheap purchase price doesn’t mean you can get away with cheap servicing – it’s still a Porsche! Indeed, anyone contemplating a 944 would be best advised to have any potential purchases checked out by a recognised Porsche specialist.

When it comes to picking a 944, the later S2 models are generally considered to be the best, with the Turbo models and convertibles being the most collectible – and, of course, the most expensive.

Price range for the 944 runs from below $10,000 for normally aspirated S1 car with a high odo reading, up to $15,000 to $20,000-plus for a well maintained S2, with good Turbo and cabriolet models starting at the higher end of that price range. If you are lucky enough to find a rare, low mileage 944, expect to pay an appropriate premium.

Parts and Servicing

Even though these are not expensive cars to buy nowadays, the 944 is still a high performance sports car and needs appropriate servicing – and, if you don’t want to compromise the car’s handling and performance, that means genuine Porsche parts. You also can’t stint on perishables, such as tyres.

On the plus side, there’s no shortage of parts for the 944, with these available either from official Porsche dealerships or through several independent Porsche specialists.

One of the best sources for 944 parts and advice is EuroPacific, 210 McClure Street, Pirongia, Waika to 3802. Phone 07 871 9944/ fax 07 871 9924/ email info@europacific.co.nz, or go to www.europacific.co.nz.

The Porsche 944 Range

Porsche 944
1982’-89    2479cc sohc four-cylinder engine, 122kW
Performance: 220kph/ 0-100kph: 8.4s
1989-’92    2681cc sohc four-cylinder engine, 123kW
Performance: 224kph/ 0-100kph: 8.2s

Porsche 944S
1986-’89    2479cc dohc four-cylinder engine, 142kW
Performance: 225kph/ 0-100kph: 7.9s

Porsche 944S2
1989-’91    2990cc dohc four-cylinder engine, 157kW
Performance: 240kph/ 0-100kph: 7.1s

Porsche 944 Turbo
1985’-88    2681cc sohc four-cylinder engine, 164kW
Performance: 244kph/ 0-100kph: 6.3s

Porsche 944 Turbo S2
1988-’91    2681cc sohc four-cylinder engine, 186kW
Performance: 259kph/ 0-100kph: 5.7s
Total 944 Production (all models): 163,192

Words: James Black Photos: Adam Croy

This article is from Classic Car issue 235. Click here to check it out.

Ashley takes a close look at a Masters’ Class-winning Porsche.

The Ellerslie Intermarque Concours d’Elégance has now been part of the Kiwi classic car enthusiasts’ calendar for an unprecedented 38 years, and continues to grow in success and popularity. This year, 75 classic car clubs participated in the event and, as each year passes, it’s encouraging to see new clubs displaying their cars for the delectations of an admiring public.

For those willing to have their pride and joy critiqued by no less than 14 eagle-eyed judges in order to gauge how their cars stack up against the best of the best, there are the Team Event and Masters’ Class competitions – and to score a win in either, very high standards are mandatory.

The Team Event is all about cooperation within a car club, with the winning club scoring the honour of hosting the following year’s event, but the Masters’ Class cars are individual entries with pride and personal satisfaction on the line.

The owner of this magnificent, award-winning 1963 Porsche 356C coupé, Mike Bitossi, knows only too well what it takes to prepare a car to this level.

After a long and exhaustive restoration, the car was VIN’d just in the nick of time at the end of January 2010, and was ready to be part of the Porsche Club Team entry at Ellerslie.

Mike was under strict instructions that he wasn’t to drive the car until after the concours, which ultimately paid dividends on the score sheet. To compete at this level it’s almost impossible to be in contention in a ‘driver’ quality car, unless many, many hours have been poured into preparing every nook and cranny to perfection. To the credit of many competitors, the cars are presented in flawless condition.

Where it Began

Mike’s passion for old Porsches hails back to the ’60s when he very nearly bought a 356A cabriolet. It was a bit more than he could afford at the time and he was a little scared of potential maintenance costs so, reluctantly, he passed on the opportunity. According to Mike, this car is still around.

Fast forward to January 2007, when Mike’s son, Anthony, was visiting from London. One particular day, when out playing golf and talking about all kinds of things as fathers and sons do, Anthony said, “You need another interest dad, why don’t you get yourself a classic sports car to fiddle around with?”

Once back at home Mike showed Anthony a picture of a Porsche 356C coupé and commented that it was the only car he’d want to buy. From that point things started to move fairly quickly, having got both the resolve and the all important seal of approval from her indoors.

Without too much delay, Mike started researching various options as to what to buy and where to source a possible purchase, with specific criteria in mind – the car definitely had to be a coupé with disc brakes and it needed to be completely numbers matching and as original as possible.

Mike explored other avenues by joining the 356 Registry in the USA. He also rejoined the Porsche Club of NZ and 356 Downunder, all of which provided contacts that would prove to be very useful as he searched for a suitable car.

He had no preference for either right or left hand drive, and as the largest volume of 356s were sold into the USA it became obvious that would become the source of his dream car. Mike’s original intention was to buy a less than perfect but usable ‘driver’ that he could enjoy and have fun in, and progressively restore over time. Many hours were spent searching the internet and eBay in particular for the perfect car, which finally paid off when he spotted his prize. With much anticipation he did the deal to buy the Porsche, fending off rivals bids from Germany, France and Italy.

It was a nervous, but exciting day for Mike when, on May 30, 2007, he saw his Porsche 356C for the first time when he picked it up from the shipping agent after it finally cleared MAF and Customs.

Mike very gingerly drove the car home where it sat in his garage for about two months whilst he pondered his options, before eventually deciding he needed to revise his original plan of driving it then restoring it.

The Theory

Mike’s not entirely sure when the decision was reached to fully restore ‘Eileen’ (so named because of its Irish Green paint colour); perhaps it just happened, as these things do.
After spending some time with Mike, I discovered that his passion and perfectionism is based on his theory that it’s possible to restore a classic car to better than ‘new’. To fully understand his theory you need first to understand the following facts.

In the post war period (1950-1965), throughout the world cars were built in rather primitive factories, and the materials and processes employed were not designed to produce a long-lasting consumer-durable product. The reality is that the factories (especially those in Europe) were largely equipped with machinery which survived from pre-war days, or plant that was surplus after the war.

By its very nature the war effort did not consider durability as a major consideration in the production of vehicles (which were considered expendable). Production technology was still largely pre-war and, consequently, there was no effort put into the development and design of products for longevity, with processes such as rust-proofing being of fairly low priority.

Porsche started in a very cottage industry manner, and until 1964-1965 relied upon coachbuilders such as Reutter, Karmann and several others to build their vehicles – and, of course, rust-proofing facilities in these factories were (by today’s standards) rather less than adequate.

Then there is the question of volume. Porsche cars were indeed hand-made. Only 77,000-odd 356s were produced between 1950 and 1965, an average of 5133 units per year, or about 20 each working day.

Mike points out that because modern materials and processes are way better than when our cars were originally built, if the subsequent restorer is worth his salt he can make certain that the restoration will ensure that there is more life ahead of the vehicle than what is behind it!

The Path to Perfection

Mike’s first step involved taking the 356C to Chris Stanley in Silverdale for all the necessary body repairs – this included the replacement of two small floor areas, one rocker panel, the removal of a few dents and some door rust. On January 10, 2008, the car was transported to Rodney Holland’s workshop where it was immediately fully sanded back to bare metal and epoxy primed. At this point Rodney commented – “This car has the best body on a 356 that I have ever seen.” As you can imagine, that was much to Mike’s delight.

Thus started the restoration – although at that stage only a body job was anticipated. Mike was grateful the car did not need to be dipped or blasted, however, it became necessary to strip the car out and, around June 2008, the decision was made for the Porsche to go onto a rotisserie to properly restore the underside. It was also about this time that Mike decided to take the bull by the horns and restore the car to concours standard. He felt that to compromise the restoration from this point would not have been appropriate given the 356’s wonderful ‘bones.’

Research as well as restoration then became the name of the game in Mike’s quest to determine what was original, and then source or restore the particular part. The majority of additional parts were ordered from Stoddard in Ohio USA, its service was excellent according to Mike, and on many occasions parts arrived just days after being ordered. There were, of course, other parts that proved more difficult to obtain, which had to be sourced from wherever Mike could locate them.

September 2009 was the turning point; no more parts were stripped from the car and it received its final coat of Irish Green paint (the original paint colour). For Mike the fun part was about to begin, working alongside Rodney to reassemble the car with the target of having it completed by the 2010 NZCC/Ellerslie Intermarque Concours.

Final Result

The 2010 Intermarque Concours d’Elégance was another outstanding day and, lined up in the Winners’ Circle for the afternoon, six teams competed for overall honours alongside the Porsche Club’s team – the MG Car Club (Auckland) Inc, Alfa Romeo Owners’ Club, Mini Car Club of Auckland and two teams from the Auckland Mustang Owners’ Club. Much to the delight of the Porsche Club, its team won for the third successive year, with Mike’s 356 scoring the highest points of all the cars with an impressive 547 points from a possible 590.

With the Intermarque Concours behind him, it was now time for Mike to enjoy his newly restored pride and joy, attending many events and travelling around the country, the last including a trip to the South Island. Mike clocked up around 5500km (65 of those on gravel) during 2010 and enjoyed every second of the experience.

But he wasn’t finished. There was one more prize yet to win – the prestigious NZCC/Ellerslie Intermarque Masters Class. With the lure of the Masters’ Class competition calling, the Porsche was returned to restoration guru, Rodney Holland – his brief being to bring the car back to concours-winning condition. Rodney was able to work his magic on the car, bringing it up to the high standards required to compete in the Masters’ Class.

At Ellerslie on February 13, with a grand total of 547 points out of a possible 590, Mike took out the coveted Masters’ Class title with his Porsche 356C.

That begs the question – ‘is it better than new?’ We’ll let you be the judge of that.

Previous Life

Mike would like to take this opportunity to thank his wife, Virginia, for her understanding and patience and Rodney Holland for his skill and absolute dedication in carrying out the restoration, and too many others to mention who have helped and assisted with his Porsche project.

Mike has now managed to trace his Porsche’s ownership back to 1973, and we’d like to quote from an interesting email Mike recieved from the owner at that time.

“I received your email today with the photo of the 356C. I can’t tell you how happy I am to receive that photo. You have made my week, month and maybe year. You have done a remarkable and much appreciated restoration of a great old friend of mine. Congratulations on your concours successes.

“One important fact should be the sequential ownership of the car. I was not the original owner. I bought the car from a young Coast Guard sailor (I don’t remember his name) returning home to San Carlos, Ca. in 1972/’73 He lived on Greenways Street around the corner from the house I shared with three other friends. He purchased the car in Florida. It had a pitted windshield from the sand storms there. I had taken a year off college and worked at Raychem Corporation in Menlo Park. It was a fun time in my life where we partied every night, drank lots of beer and drove fast cars. My room-mate owned an Austin-Healey MkIII and we had both of our cars painted that Forrest Green together by a body and fender man from Palo Alto. He left a fair amount of ‘orange peel’ on the body but overall it was 100 times prettier after being sun bleached in Florida. I bought Michelin XAS radials and put on some Koni shocks and bought a new windshield. The box with windshield was too large to fit into the car so I took the glass out and laid it across the passenger seat and went to a softball game. For some reason I needed my then girlfriend later wife to drive the car home. When I got home I eagerly pulled the windshield out of the car to find it broken and a new small dent on the metal dashboard of the car. Somewhere between Palo Alto and Redwood City the new $105 windshield met its death and the car received a small blemish. I never did replace the windshield.

“The only other blemish the car received was at the Menlo Country Club at my room-mate’s wedding reception. The Porsche was parked on a slant and evidently the car to my left (up hill) opened their door and punched a soccer ball size dent into the left rear quarter panel. I was devastated. I was able to push most of it out but sold the car with a small wrinkle there.

“I made the mistake of letting a friend drive the car after a couple of beers. We were up in the San Carlos Hills, a residential neighbourhood, and my friend hit the brakes too hard going downhill causing the rear-engined car to spin. We spun through a small chicane and ended up ‘kissing’ a light standard with the rear bumper. No injury to the vehicle but no other person ever drove the beauty again.

“As I was returning to school having completed my year of fun, I placed the car on the market. I paid US$1500 for the car in 1972 and sold it to a banker in San Carlos for US$2300 – he would keep the car for the next 34 years. When I shook hands with the new owner, another older gentleman shook his head and said he would have paid another $1000 for the car.”

1963 Porsche 356C Coupe – Specifications

(Production date –September 6, 1963)
Engine: Horizontally-opposed four-cylinder, air-cooled 
Capacity: 1582cc    
Bore/stroke: 82.5x74mm    
C/R: 8.5:1
Valves: ohv, two valves per cylinder
Max power: 70.8kW at 5500rpm 
Max torque: 124Nm at 4200rpm 
Fuel system: Two twin choke Zenith 32NDIX carburettors
Transmission: Four-speed manual    
Suspension F/R: Independent, torsion bars
Steering: ZF worm and peg
Brakes: Disc/disc 

Dimensions:
Overall length: 4010 mm
Width: 1670mm 
Height: 1315mm
Wheelbase: 2100mm
Track F/R: 1306/1272mm
Kerb weight: 935kg

Performance:
Max speed: 175kph
0-100k/ph: 11.3 seconds
Standing ¼ mile: 18.8 seconds

Words: Ashley Webb Photos: Adam Croy

This article is from NZ Classic Car issue 245. Click here to check it out.

Jacqui travels to Australia to sample the Porsche Panamera.

It seems an odd way to test a Porsche, to drive it 17,000km around Australia. But that’s how the four-door Panamera launched downunder, and I joined the Darwin to Alice Springs leg.

At first glance this isn’t the most challenging of drives; at one point the satnav piped up with ‘continue straight for 1069kms. The gentle bends we mostly encountered could not have been termed corners even at 300kph.

But there was a precedent for this drive – the REDeX trial, in 1953. It began in Sydney and travelled 10,500km, including much of our route. Trials driver Ken Harper entered the world’s quickest right-hand-drive Porsche 356 coupe, a 1.3-litre 1951 split-screen model.

The REDeX was the big time – Jack Brabham took part, as did Stan Jones, father of F1 champ Alan; and Lex Davison, who went on to win four Australian Grand Prix. That event included at least one colourful character – ‘Gelignite’ Jack Murray, so known for exploding outback toilets at unsuitable moments.

Our downunder equivalent was former Aussie shock jock, Doug Mulray, whose always dodgy sense of humour enlivened our drive.

Subsequent REDeX trials were Porsche-free, though three 356A coupes entered the 1957 Mobilgas Trial in 1957, with the pale blue car owned by privateer Tom Jackson the only one to finish.

Not finishing wasn’t an option for our two cars – and a diesel Cayenne followed us laden with spare wheels and tyres.

Eye Magnet

It was definitely the plain Jane to the main event. For the Panamera – a car that’s much more striking in the flesh than in pictures – is an eye-magnet. From the front and rear it’s every inch a Porsche, and instantly identifiable on the road. The side? I liked its torpedo lines, not pretty but undoubtedly purposeful. And in person this car is big – no wonder the cabin is roomier than expected, the boot more capacious. Fortunately, for it carried our luggage, plus boxes of freebies and banners.

Given the up to 38-degree temperatures the Turbo with its air conditioned seats caused an unsightly tussle over the keys as we left Darwin. The $350,000 range-topper gets a 4.8-litre twin-turbo V8 with 368kW and 700Nm mated to a seven-speed TDK double-clutch auto driving all four wheels. It also has a clever traction management system and adaptive air suspension plus a range of spec as long as my arm. And, of course, a few visual tweaks to let anoraks know you’ve got the ultimate Panamera, including a clever three-piece spoiler that does a little ballet whenever it deploys.

The $260,000 normally aspirated rear drive ‘S’ delivers 294kW and 500Nm, far more than sufficient for our first day’s drive to Kakadu.

That allowed us to get familiar with the luxurious cabin. This is a car which will sell on its sporting credentials, but it competes with luxury sedans too. Certainly it feels the part, albeit a tad Jekyll and Hyde; the rear captain seats radiate luxury sedan aura while the front, for all it’s comfortable enough, is clearly a sports car’s flight deck.

Day two to Daley Waters saw our only true bends of the trip, which meant photography and, darn it, we had to keep flying to and fro past the snapping lens. This is where my love affair with the S began. The Turbo is a towering achievement, with staggering levels of grip, and a composure even near its over 300kph top speed that’s astonishing. But it wasn’t an engaging enough drive for me. I preferred the relative liveliness of the rear-drive car. It might reach ‘only’ 280kph or so, and move over the road more near that speed, but it allows a relationship with the driver that the more remote Turbo rejects.

Clever Controls

The Panamera is a big, hefty car but it didn’t feel it round these bends, Porsche’s clever stability control systems allowing a certain amount of play, the plentiful torque thrusting her round. Mulray might have had a chilled bottom and a bigger safety net but I doubt he was having more fun than me.

He got the last laugh at Daley Waters though, for he fanged up and down the 2km airstrip until the Porsche folk called a halt – throwing up clouds of dirt and scattering wildlife, the spine-tingling howl of the turbo engine echoing from the all-but-abandoned buildings.

First settled in 1872 to support a telegraph relay, Daley Waters became an air strip in 1927, with two pilots in a de Havilland DH50 flying the Brisbane-Daley Waters run. By 1934 it was a Qantas refuelling point on the Brisbane to Singapore route – with a dining room in a bough shed. Now it’s got one of the more extraordinary outback pubs, with frogs in the toilet, and a lot of beer.

Wrestling Doug into submission I took the T’s keys as we headed for Alice. This road was beautifully paved in WWII, when the US army based itself well away from the vulnerable north. But there’s not much to see – just 100s of kilometers of spinifex and red dust, the shimmering tarmac parting the desert. There’s not a lot of water out here though a surprising amount of traffic and, allegedly, aliens. The speed limit is now 130, but the temptation to give the cars their head amid such emptiness was strong. After all, how many cops can there be out here?

We met three – one Kiwi en route to a football match only 400km away, and a pair with a breathalyser 100km out of Alice Springs. “By the look of those cars, it’s lucky our radar’s facing the other way,” said one with masterful understatement.

Too true. For though these cars did a sterling job of covering large distances in comfort they are not cruisers. They are big sports cars with four seats and doors – I just wish I’d had more corners with which to prove it.

Porsche Panamera- Specifications

Engine: 4806cc water cooled V8 with VarioCam Plus variable valve and valve stroke timing (S); 4806cc water-cooled bi-turbo V8 with VarioCam Plus variable valve and valve stroke timing (Turbo)
Power: 294kW at 6500rpm, 500Nm at 3500 to 5000rpm (S); 368kW at 6000rpm (Turbo)
Torque: 700Nm (770 with Sports Chrono in Sports Plus mode) at 2250 to 4500rpm (Turbo)
Bore/stroke: 96/83mm
Compression ratio: 12.5:1 (S); 10.5:1 (Turbo)
0-100kph (claimed): 5.6s (S); 4.2s (Turbo) (both two seconds faster with Sports Chrono)
Fuel consumption urban/extra urban/combined (claimed): 18.8/8.9/12.5l/100km (S); 18/8.9/12.2l/100km (Turbo)
Transmission: Seven speed auto drives rear wheels (S) or all four wheels (Turbo)
Wheels/tyres: 19-inch alloys with 255/45ZR19 tyres front, 285/40ZR19 tyres rear; 20-inch RS Spyder alloys with 255/40ZR20 front and 295/30ZR20 rear
Suspension: Aluminium double wishbone front, multi-arm axle rear, with active suspension management (PASM) (S – Turbo adds adaptive self-levelling air suspension
Brakes: Six piston front with 360mm vented discs front, four piston rear with 330mm vented discs (S); six piston front with 390mm vented discs, four piston rear with 350mm vented discs (Turbo)
Length/width/height/WB: 4970/1931/1418/2920mm
Track fr/rr: 1658/1662 (S); 1656/1646mm (Turbo)
Kerb weight: 1770kg (S); 1970kg (Turbo)
Price: $260,000 (S); $350,000 (Turbo)

[Note: The 4S, also available in NZ, did not take part in the round-Australia drive.]

This article is from NZ Classic Car issue 231. Click here to check it out.

Eoin acquired a collection of original exciting Porsche racing posters from the ’70s, which prompted recollections of various Porsche stories.

I worked with John Wyer’s Gulf-sponsored team in the late 1960s when it was winning Le Mans with the GT40s, and beating Porsche on such a regular basis in endurance races that the Porsche management decided to hand its works team over to the quintessential British team. My brief was to handle press and PR for the American Gulf Oil Corporation, and it meant working closely with Wyer, very much of the old school in racing, rather like Ken Tyrrell in Formula 1. Both men liked to start with a large gin and tonic before they ordered dinner wherever we were in the world. Fate would have it that when Gulf withdrew at the end of the 1973 season, Ken Tyrrell arranged for me to sign on with his French Elf oil company sponsor for a decade or so.

I well recall the closing laps of Le Mans in 1969, running up and down the ladder in the Gulf motor home behind the pits to see whether Hermann was ahead in the Porsche, or Ickx in ‘our’ GT40. The Gulf GT40 won, and it was probably that straw which broke the back of the Porsche determination to succeed at the top, as opposed to years of class wins.

Porsche 911

During those Porsche years I decided to buy a 911, but the problem was which one in the range would serve me best. I was convinced that I needed a Targa-top convertible, but Rico Steinemann, Porsche team manager of the day, told me as delicately as he could that perhaps I should do as the works drivers did, and go for the coupe, which was a more comfortable unit for day-long drives at speed across Europe. With that decision made for me, it was now a choice of model and I let my wallet do the talking.

I bought a 911 T-Lux, a special model confected for the tight UK market where the preference was for the base model with all the up-market mods, thus my car had S-Type suspension and E interior trim and instrumentation. The 2.4-litre motor was the last with carburettors when the more expensive models had moved on to fuel injection and then turbocharging. This didn’t bother me at the time, because with the bonnet closed, they all looked the same. It was only later, when I would need something checked in the motor, that the mechanics would heave a sigh of relief when they spotted the simple carbs and knew they didn’t have to battle the complexities of fuel injection.

My British registration was NUV6L, which only struck me as being a handy one to remember. It was several years later, when stopping for fuel after leaving a race at Donington, when an enthusiast came up and said — “I say, old boy, you’ve got Nuvolari’s pit signal on your plate!” I wondered what on earth he was talking about. “NUV 6L — Nuvolari, 6 Laps!” After that I was secretly proud of the special number plate — that I hadn’t been aware of before it was pointed out to me.

Hans Hermann Beats the Train

By a happy coincidence I met up with my schoolboy racing hero at the Monaco Historic races. It was the 40th anniversary of the Anciens Pilote’s club, and Mike Sparken had hosted a splendid lunch at his Cap Ferrat home. All the golden oldies were there — Phil Hill, Dan Gurney, Tony Brooks, Roy Salvadori, Paul Frere, Jacques Swaters, Jean Guichet, Giannino Marzotto, Nino Vacarella, Les Leston, Tony Gaze, Cliff Allison, Maurice Trintignant, Tim Parnell, and Howden Ganley among others I may have missed.

Hans Hermann turned up, and I learned that he had signed a print of a drawing of him ducking under a level crossing gate on the Mille Miglia, just dodging a train.

This was the coincidence, and Hermann was my hero. When I was a schoolboy at Timaru in New Zealand the shops were open late-night Fridays, and I used to visit the town’s only bookshop just to leaf through a book of motor racing art that I couldn’t afford to buy. It was Motor Racing Sketchbook by German artist, Carlo Demand, and my favourite picture was this electrifying portrayal of Hermann’s Porsche diving under the level-crossing bar in the Mille Miglia.

The coincidence continued. Years later, when I was living in Surrey and setting up my rare motoring book business, I had a letter from a ‘C Demand’ in Germany ordering a book. As luck would have it, he was the famous Carlo Demand — and he still had the original artwork of that Porsche picture which I bought from him. it was a sort of triumphal achievement getting the artwork I had drooled over as a schoolboy. I remember unrolling the big original drawing of this Mille Miglia action and marvelling at it, and I haven’t seen it again from that day to this!

And here was Hans Hermann, signing a copy of the original picture, so we had to arrange a photograph of us together with the artwork. I asked him how it had happened.
“We were doing about 160kph and the level crossing bars were around a blind bend. There was a marshal with a warning flag but he was almost at the crossing and I had no chance of stopping in time.

I whacked my co-driver on the helmet, pushing him down and we both ducked under the bar. The train was only metres away!”
Living history.

Driving the Works 908 at Hockenheim

It was late in 1969, and we were in Hockenheim in the snow for the press preview of the sensational new 4.5-litre 12-cylinder 917. The 3.0-litre 908, that had been the frontline factory racers only weeks before, were now pensioned-off and a car that had been raced by the likes of Jo Siffert and Pedro Rodriguez was on offer for journalists to try! Naturally enough, I found my limit by exceeding it.

The 908 wasn’t answering the helm. It was mechanical mutiny. The corner on the short, slushy Hockenheim circuit was banked off to the left but the 908 wanted to go straight ahead. I didn’t have time to wonder how Siffert would have handled the situation. Preferring an attempt to take the corner rather than a damp walk back to the pits to explain to team manager, Rico Steinemann, I steered in the direction of the road. The sensation that you’re about to be passed on the outside by your own tail is rather an embarrassing one. I just knew it was all sweeping round behind me as I steered valiantly in the direction of the spin.

For a few tenths of a second it was a stalemate, and we went along sideways while I hoped against hope that (a) it didn’t spin, (b) it didn’t hit anything and (c) nobody was watching. I groped for another gear — any gear — since if I’d managed to get into a situation like this, the gear I was currently slotted into was obviously the wrong one. Then everything was going slower and I was sort of slithering along at right-angles to the road. A new gear with lots of revs and acceleration and we were back in business with the wind rushing up over the nose of the 908 and trying to lift my helmet off. If this was being a racing driver, Jo Siffert could keep it. I have never had my electric IBM typewriter (that dates the drive — now it would be my laptop!) sideways on a wet track, so it just goes to show that writing is a whole lot safer than racing.

Flat-Out Flat-12

It made me very pleased that we weren’t allowed to drive ourselves in the two 4.5-litre flat-12 917s. I foolishly volunteered for a ride with Brian Redman in the open car. I’m sure I’ve been more uncomfortable, but I can’t remember exactly when. The door shut down about 75mm from my teeth, so I was sitting with my head sticking out of a not-very-generous cut-out in the tin tonneau cover.

The FIA certainly never tries the passenger seats for comfort when these things are homologated. Brian complained that it was only firing on nine, but nine was enough for excitement. A squirt of throttle out of each corner put the car sideways, and on the straight the blast of air stream over the nose gagged me. It was literally suffocation from too much air; when I tried to turn sideways it was like having all the air sucked from my lungs. It was also freezing cold. And when we came up behind Siffert doing some quiet dicing in the closed 917, the fat garden-roller rear tyres flung muddy, slushy water in my face. It was icy hell.

To make matters worse, when we returned to the pits the owner of the crash helmet tried to tug it off my head without undoing the chin-strap.

By comparison, my ride in the closed 917 was sublime comfort. The 917 seemed to end at the bottom of the sloping windscreen and the road rushed under us, while Pedro kept his little beady eyes glued on it, maintaining some semblance of direction. After the open car this was like having your feet up in front of the fire watching the box, except that our lounge doesn’t have a wall of engine at the back with a rack of fuel injectors all spitting and sucking away.

Redman took me for a couple of laps in a standard 911S, and I marvelled at his pace and control. It occurred to me that Porsche either makes its cars like racing cars or its racing cars like road cars. The 908 transmission had been just as smooth as a road car. You didn’t have to grit teeth and gears to take off. Racing drivers always seem to have that edge of perfect balance and control that I can never emulate when I get behind the wheel. It’s a similar comparison between the average Porsche and lesser makes. The Porsche does it all with that much better balance and precision.

Frank Gardner Fights the First 917

“One of the biggest compromises I ever drove in all my life was the original prototype Porsche 917, and David Piper and I compromised that bloody thing round the Nürburgring to finish its first race — the 1000km in 1969.” Frank Gardner was writing in his book The Castrol Racing Driver’s Manual (with Doug Nye in 1973).

“We were conscripted by Porsche for a reasonable sum of money and they gave us strict orders to bring this old heap to the finish. They’d had some big troubles with the thing in testing and to save face as much as anything they just wanted it to finish — it didn’t matter where, just as long as it did finish.

“The German chassis engineers sat me in it and I the first thing I noticed was this odd little pressure gauge on the dash panel. I asked what it was for and they said ‘Ah, Herr Gardner, to zat you vill pay der grosse attention, und ven der needle drops to der zero you will drive ze wagen mit care back to der boxen.’

“I then proceeded to discover that the gauge was hooked up to the chassis tubes, which were pressurised with gas. If the chassis cracked, the gas would escape and the pressure disappear, so that when the needle zeroes it was warning of a busted chassis frame. So I came back to the chassis engineers and explained that if this bloody thing zeroed I wasn’t going to drive it ‘mit care’ back to the pits or anywhere else for that matter. I’d park the bastard and walk back.

“Apart from the engine having a phenomenal vibration period at 5000rpm, which shattered every component in your body and sent you numb and deaf for days afterwards, the thing weaved all over the shop. It was grossly overpowered for its diddly little 10-inch rims. The computer said that they would be man enough to do the job, but the computer wasn’t strapped into the hot seat guiding this thing round the Eiffel Mountains.”

“Piper did one lap of the 14½-mile [23.3km] circuit, came in and stopped and said he was too young to die! It had no power below 5000rpm but over the next 1500rpm you found another 350bhp. It poured throughout the 1000km race. It was bloody dangerous. I guess it was one of the few times that I was really scared!”

The Porsche 917 was a powerful pig, and perhaps this prompted Porsche to hand the whole project to John Wyer’s team and it was Wyer’s engineer John Horsman who literally took an axe to the long tail of the 917 they used in the first team tests on the Osterreichring. It was a brave move that appalled the Porsche engineers, but it solved the problem of instability, and the 917 became a winner in long-distance racing and later CanAm sports car racing in North America.

Words: Eoin Young

During our visit to Kaikoura, we met Bob Bell and checked out the veritable Aladdin’s cave that he calls his home shed

I’ve probably said it many times, but one of the great things about working on NZ Classic Car is not only the fine cars we get to see virtually on a daily basis, but the fantastic people we meet along the way who enjoy sharing their fabulous yarns with us about their hobby.

One such person is Kaikoura’s Bob Bell who, along with Kaikoura’s Pier Hotel owner, Steve Kirkpatrick, made our trip to the South Island not only possible but highly enjoyable.

Besides exploring Bob’s shed, he has a great, life-long passion for cars to share — one that stretches back almost five decades to the time when he travelled to Ardmore as a child with his father to watch the NZ Grand Prix. In fact, Bob has been a keen motorsport follower ever since, not missing too many racing events at our end of the world — he’s attended almost every Australian Grand Prix.

Losing count

Bob has, quite literally, lost count of all the cars that he has owned over the years — although he recalled that it started at the tender age of 14 with a Ford 8. He remembers towing it home with his father and, after several attempts to get it running, they decided to wreck it — which, as it turned out, was quite a profitable exercise as the pair picked up £30 on the deal.

This was also the catalyst for what would play an important part in Bob’s life — his shed. It was at around this time that Bob eventually commandeered the family garage, and ever since he has always owned his own shed — and we’re not talking your standard 6×6-metre job; every one of Bob’s houses has boasted a decent-sized garage.

By the time Bob had reached the age of 17 he decided to head over the ditch to live — he had already owned least a dozen cars, including a rare 1929 six-cylinder Chevrolet Roadster, three Model As, a couple of Austin specials, a Hudson Super 6, 1937 Tickford-bodied Rover drophead coupe — a car created specially for the 1937 London Motor Show — and a MkV Jaguar, the latter bought along with his father.

Unfortunately, Bob scuttled three telegraph poles in the Jaguar and, with the eventual insurance pay-out, his father bought a 1949 Ford Single Spinner. Bob eventually saved up enough money and bought his own MkV Jaguar.

Australian adventures

Bob lived in Australia for a while — he remembers that his first car over there was a Vauxhall Wyvern — but soon returned to New Zealand with his Australian wife. They didn’t stay here for long, and were soon packing their gear and heading off across the Tasman again.

Initially, Bob purchased a Toyota Land Cruiser and a six-metre caravan, in which the couple travelled around Australia for just over a year. With their wanderlust slaked, the pair finally settled in Sydney.

Once there, Bob built their first house — which obviously included a fairly substantial garage. This would eventually house an early 3.0-litre BMW, Jaguar XK150, Lancia Fulvia Rallye coupe, 1974 2.7 911 Porsche Carrera and a VB SL/E Commodore.

The Lancia came to a sticky end when it took on a bridge and came off second best! The XK150 was sold, only to be replaced by a brace of Mk2 Jaguars and a rare 1961 Lincoln four-door convertible. A BMW 633CSi was added along the way, as well  as a partially restored 1961 Thunderbird convertible — both of which he still owns today. Bob recalls visiting a Sydney Motor Show in the ’80s, where he came across the newly released Mercedes 190 Cosworth on display. Bob was mighty impressed with this car and wanted to get a closer look, thinking that this could be the car for him one day. Dressed in only shorts, jandals and a T-shirt (well, it was summer) he was refused entry onto the stand, not being allowed to get anywhere close to the Mercedes. Bob then noticed a bright, shiny new BMW 633csi on the stand opposite — the rest you know.

During the mid-’90s, Bob and his second wife, Karen, travelled to Kenya to teach for six months after touring Great Britain and Europe in an old VW campervan. During that time, they adopted a 10-year-old Kenyan girl, Maureen. When they decided to return to Australia, the strict Australian immigration regulations imposed on them at the time meant that the easiest option was to return to New Zealand, and fight the Australian authorities from there in order to get Maureen into Australia.

That took around five weeks and, in the end, Maureen was only granted a five-year visa — if she left Australia during that period she would not be allowed to return. Bob and Karen decided to bring Maureen to New Zealand for three years, which would make her eligible for New Zealand residency.

Kaikoura Bound

Bob has fond memories of Kaikoura, often travelling over from Australia to attend classic race meetings and staying there. He and Karen had also spent time in Kaikoura over the years and decided to take Maureen to the South Island to see the snow, something she had never experienced before. During that trip, Bob and Karen purchased a spectacular piece of land in Kaikoura which they had noticed on a previous trip. They then went back to Australia to sell up, which actually took about a year due to the length of time it took to sell their house.

Bob never told anyone in Australia about their new plans, just to say that they were selling their house and building a new one — never mentioning that the new house would be built in New Zealand!

Bob also had to part with at least nine cars to lighten the load — including a rare 16-litre 1927 Le France fire-pumper. He was left with the Lincoln convertible, Thunderbird, BMW 633CSi coupe, and Alta Special vintage race-car, Porsche Carrera and a rare Benelli six-cylinder motorcycle.

And so, towards the end of 1999, Bob, Karen and Maureen arrived in New Zealand and set to work building their new home in Kaikoura. The first challenge was to erect a temporary building so they had a roof over their heads — this initial building would later become Karen’s art studio and gallery.

The cars were kept in containers before Bob got around to building his large shed. Everyone still laughs, recalling that Bob built the shed before the house — but Bob’s a man who clearly has his priorities set right. With the shed built and cars unpacked from the containers it was time to focus on the house — which, incidentally, is fabulous. Its French provincial theme allows for magnificent views of the surrounding mountains and sea from everywhere you look. Now called Homewood Hill, Bob and Karen offer it as a luxury B&B for tourists who really want to spoil themselves.

The Shed

Over the past few years since work on the house was completed, Bob has “sold a few and gained a few” as he puts it. During that time he sold his 1974 911 Porsche Carrera and Lincoln convertible, replacing them with another Mk2 Jaguar which has been built as a John Coombs Special; boasting triple carbs, cut-out wheel spats, louvered bonnet, manual gearbox with overdrive, XJ6 rack and pinion power steering and a Vicarage coil-sprung rear end.

The fully restored 1970 Morris Minor Traveller — also featured elsewhere in this magazine — is Karen’s daily driver, a car she prefers to drive rather than either of their two Range Rovers.

The unfinished Alfa classic racer, called the ‘Vault’ due to its Vauxhall running gear — and the amount of money tied up in it — sits alongside a Thunderbird convertible, the 633CSi and the Benelli motorcycle.
Bob’s 1961 Thunderbird has since been modified to include a late model Falcon rack and pinion steering, as the Australian RHD conversion was unacceptable for NZ compliance.

Unfortunately, Bob can’t help himself when it comes to swap meets and visiting other people’s shed and, over the years, he has collected a substantial array of all kinds of motoring paraphernalia — including an impressive collection of old spark plugs. He’s even got a penny-farthing bicycle.

Wandering around the shed, time seemed to pass by quickly as virtually every item has its own unique little story which Bob is only too happy to share. Naturally, there have been other cars that have come and gone such as a Borgward Arabella coupe, a ’60s dirt-track racer, a couple of Morris Minors, a few Rover P6Bs and a Triumph 2500 which Bob couldn’t resist. Those cars have gone to make way for Bob and Karen’s
new plans.

Yes, the time has come for them to return to Australia. Maureen is now 21 and is building her own life in Auckland, so Bob and Karen have decided to head back over the ditch to be with family and friends. Although the decision was a hard one — which car to take and which to leave behind — the collection will follow them and will, no doubt, take pride of place in Bob’s next shed, wherever that may be.

Bob and Karen, we wish you well, you’ll be sorely missed among the Kaikoura classic car community.

Words: Ashley Webb Photos: Adam Croy

This hefty tome (352pp) covers the complete developmental cycle of the 911 — from the initial leap from the 356 to the 901 and on to the current, water-cooled models. Leffingwell’s text concentrates mostly on the parts the designers and engineers played in the model’s long history— from Butzi Porsche’s initial penning of the classic 911 shape, to Pinky Lai’s strange, fried egg-like headlight arrangement for the fifth generation 911. As well as the road cars, the author also covers most of the 911’s motor sport derivatives, whilst Porsche tuning guru, Alois Ruf, also gets a look-in. Probably not definitive, but certainly very complete — an appendix detailing production details and specifications would have been helpful — and with enough information to please even dedicated Porschephiles.

Porsche 911: Perfection by Design by Randy Leffingwell
Review book supplied by Techbooks
Review by Allan Walton

Glossy and well produced, this profusely illustrated book may not add much fresh information to the Porsche legend, but it’s a good buy — although you’ll need a very large sock if you choose these as a Christmas stocking-stuffer.

Porsche: Sixty Years by Randy Leffingwell
Review book supplied by Techbooks
Review by James Black

These two Porsche supercars will be the highlight of this year’s NZCC Classic Car Weekend

Unlike Italian auto manufacturers, German companies have never shown a huge amount of interest in producing what we have come to know as ‘supercars.’ One suspects that the trained mind of the average German engineer is far too practical to waste too many grey cells on contemplating something as intrinsically impractical as a supercar.

Of course, most of the major German players have produced some scintillating competition cars but, more often than not, these forays into racing have not resulted in out-and-out supercars for the public road.

However, having said that, BMW did a brief flirtation with the breed during the ’80s with the M1; although it had to woo Lamborghini to assist it in developing the car — and, as you can imagine, that alliance ended in tears. BMW was, perhaps, more successful with the more recent Z08, but that was more sports car than supercar — far too practical.

Mercedes-Benz also eschewed the production of a corporate supercar for many years — ironic really, as you could easily make a good case for the 300SL Gullwing as being the first ever supercar — it was certainly fast and impractical enough to qualify. Subsequent SL sports cars did not, however, follow the lead set by the 300SL — each becoming progressively softer and more sloppy as time went by.

Audi, in the meantime, steered well clear of the supercar arena.

As for Porsche — well, that was one manufacturer you really expected to be a major player in the supercar leagues; after all, it had produced spectacular sports racers which had dominated Le Mans and CanAm racing. Even before then the tiny, mid-engined RS Spyders had cleaned up in sports car racing.

Alas, all this activity didn’t really result in a bone fide supercar; although many would place the iconic 911 Turbo in that class simply by default. Trouble is, the Turbo was always a very practical machine — almost a daily driver — but, despite huge performance from its turbocharged flat-six, the 911 Turbo was hardly full of the cutting edge technology so beloved of the supercar manufacturers. This lack of hi-tech wasn’t only about the Turbo’s engine dangling over the rear axle — a throwback to Dr Porsche’s basic, people’s car — it was about the trimmings. A case in point. The Turbo had to make do with a sloppy four-speed gearbox for far too long, as Porsche engineers reckoned that the torque of their force-fed flat-six meant that no more gears were required. It’s that kind of thinking that led Porsche to plough its own performance furrow — in a field a long way away from established supercar makers such as Ferrari and Lamborghini.

In fact, Porschephiles would have to wait until the ’80s before the factory brought the full might of its racing experience to a Porsche road car — but we’ll get onto that subject a little later.

The Modern Age

Although German auto-makers seemed not to be very much interested in producing any seriously notable supercars, that would all change as the world floundered towards the new millennium.

As we approached a new age, it seemed that every man and his dog suddenly had a supercar on their drawing boards — Horacio Pagani chimed in with his outrageous Zonda, Caparo came up with an equally outrageous car and Ascari brought us its own version of the supercar. Even Sweden got in on the act with the Königsegg while cash-strapped TVR entered the fray with its short-lived Speed Twelve. And, of course, how could we forget the awesome McLaren F1 — and, if you want another Kiwi tie-in, you could even put the New Zealand-designed (and still unresolved) Hulme supercar onto the list.

Amidst all this high-end activity, Ferrari trumped everyone with its Enzo and, finally, the German engineers woke up. Audi, which had already tinselled up its previously stodgy image with the quattro in the early ’80s and subsequently achieved Le Mans success with its diesel-engined prototypes, fronted up the cash to buy Lamborghini and then, in a moment of blinding inspiration, even came up with its own supercar — the mid-engined R8. The R8 may be little more than a tarted-up Lamborghini Gallardo, but at least it showed willing on Audi’s behalf.

Even the suits at Mercedes eventually caught up with the Italians with the current McLaren SLR — once again proving that a German auto-maker couldn’t cut the supercar mustard without an outside specialist.

Apart from the Z08, BMW still couldn’t be bothered by all this supercar frenzy — after its chastening experience with the M1 it has always seemed much happier producing high-performance saloons.

Which brings us back to Porsche.

The Porsche 959

When first mooted, the 959 was intended to be a Group B rally car — however, after that category was outlawed, continued development transformed the 959 into a road car; one that would highlight Porsche’s best technology.

And, being Porsche, the concept was to use the standard 911 as a basic building block for the new car — not surprising really, all of Porsche’s post 911 models can trace their lineage back to that car; later they even managed to ‘gift’ the Cayenne, a massive off-roader, with a vaguely 911-look.

So, industry speculators wouldn’t have been too taken aback when Porsche isolated its venerable flat-six as the 959’s intended powerplant. But things were not, it transpired, to be that simple. Porsche took the boxer six originally developed for the ‘Moby Dick’ racer — that meant, prophetically, water-cooled cylinder heads, four-valves per cylinder and a pair of sequential turbochargers, the last chosen for their ability to provide seamless power delivery right across the engine’s rev range. The engine, as used in Moby Dick (and the short-lived Porsche Indy Car), produced around 331kW. This engine, only marginally altered, would form the heart of the 959.

While the body developed to cover this mighty engine was, of course, a further refinement of the 911 shape, Porsche built it from a series of exotic materials — including aluminium, Kevlar and Nomex — thus helping to keep weight down to a minimum.

But Porsche didn’t stop there. As the 959 had originally been intended as a rally machine, four-wheel drive was considered essential. This desire for all-wheel drive led to the development of a highly advanced system — Porsche-Steuer Kuppling (PSK) — the main feature being that it was capable of altering front/rear torque distribution whilst on the move.

All this technology was highly impressive. Porsche even, finally, got around to adding some more gears; six in the 959’s case.

The 959’s suspension was height adjustable, albeit a fairly conventional double wishbone set-up, but Porsche went to town with the car’s magnesium alloy road wheels which were hollow, to form a sealed chamber with the tyre. A tyre pressure monitoring system was included in the final specification.

The initial, Group B version of the 959 was unveiled at the 1983 Frankfurt Motor Show — with the road-going version debuting at Frankfurt in 1985. The road cars were available in two levels of trim — Sport and Komfort, read ‘race’ and ‘road.’

They were staggeringly expensive to build and buy. It was reckoned that Porsche lost money on each 959 sold — and, by the time 959 production ceased in 1988, 337 examples had been built, including 37 pre-production and prototype models. Interestingly, the 959 was never complied for its largest overseas market, the US — although this didn’t stop high-rollers such as Microsoft’s Bill Gates and comedian Jerry Seinfield from buying the Porsche — although neither of them would be able to legally drive their 959s on the road until many years later.

On the motor sport front, the 959 realised some if its intended potential when it won the 1986 Paris-Dakar Rally. The same year, a racing version — the 961 — made an appearance at Le Mans, finishing first in class. The 961 returned to Le Mans in 1987 but failed to finish, effectively ending its brief racing career.

However, the 959 story would continue for several more years — in 1992/’93, Porsche put together a further run of eight cars from spare parts. Although outwardly identical to the original 959s, this final batch featured speed-sensitive dampers.

Porsche may have lost several large sacks of marks whilst developing the 959 but, in hindsight, that can now be seen not as a loss but as a sizeable investment in Porsche’s future. The lessons learned from the 959’s on-board engine management electronics and four-wheel drive would all surface on subsequent 911s — indeed, the very existence of the 959 allowed Porsche to extend the 911’s already long life even further.

The 959’s 4WD system would later appear on the 964 and, in much simpler and more conventional form, on the 993 Carrera 4.

Mike’s 959

Mike Hampton has been a long time Porsche Club NZ member — since 1993 — and, although based overseas (mainly in India, Singapore and Hong Kong), he always looks forward to receiving his bi-monthly club magazine, Spiel, to find out what is happening in Porsche’s New Zealand world.

Mike has owned a 1991 Porsche 964 Cup Car since 1997, which interestingly came third in the 1991 German Carrera Cup driven by Jürgen van Garzen and was subsequently brought into New Zaland by Bill Fulford in 1993 and raced by Gray Matthias.

Early this year, Mike started to think about a car to drive when in New Zealand and looked around on the internet for something suitable. As a long-term fan of the 959, he felt that if I was ever going to get one, now was a good time to do it. After a lot of searching and a number of phone calls later, he found a car that suited him at Freisinger Motor Sport in Karlsruhe, Germany. Karlsruhe is a couple of hours drive South of Frankfurt and not far from Stuttgart.

Mike was able to negotiate a deal over the phone, which basically meant swapping his Cup Car for the 959. He travelled to Germany for a weekend in August to meet the 959’s vendor, Manfred Freisinger, and conclude the deal. It was a successful trip and the Cup Car is now in Germany and the 959 is here in New Zealand, complied, registered and completely roadworthy.

Not a bad toy to own and drive during Mike’s occasional visits to his homeland.

Porsche Carrera GT

Our featured 2004 Carrera GT arrived into New Zealand in 2005, and is currently the only example in New Zealand, although rumours suggest that another may arrive on our shores in the not too distant future.

Unlike the 959, the Carrera GT was a ‘clean-sheet’ design but, in a world seemingly overpopulated with supercars, Porsche’s intention was unchanged — the Carrera GT would be developed and built as a showcase for Porsche’s advanced technology and virtually limitless racing experience.

Once again, Porsche turned to a racing car for its initial inspiration — this time around, the highly successful 911 GT1 and LMP1-98, both of which had been rendered obsolete by changing regulations. Although Porsche originally toyed with the idea of using its venerable flat-six, in the end it opted to go with a powerplant more suited to a genuine supercar — a V10. Interestingly, the first Porsche V10s were put together by the Footwork Formula One team. That was in 1992 and, despite much development work, the V10 — by then a 5.5-litre unit — was eventually abandoned.

The V10 made a reappearance at the 2000 Geneva Motor Show in a concept car, which attracted sufficient interest for Porsche to consider developing a suitable vehicle for the engine.

Work began on the Carrera GT shortly afterwards and, right from the beginning, the car was conceived as a technical tour-de-force — that meant copious use of carbon fibre, magnesium alloy and cutting edge carbon-ceramic brake discs and a ceramic clutch. Oddly though, Porsche decided to use a standard, manually shifted six-speed gearbox, rejecting the paddle-shifted sequential system used in its potential number one rival — the Enzo.

On the other side of the coin, when seeking the best suppliers Porsche found them all over the world. The Carrera GT’s headlight system would come from Great Britain, while the car’s super-light alloy wheels were supplied by a Japanese manufacturer.

And, as the Carrera GT moved into its final development stage, Porsche brought in ex rally ace, Walter Rörhl to help fine-tune the car’s handling. In fact, it would be Rörhl who would drive the first Carrera GT into the courtyard of the Louvre in Paris on September 28, 2000, in order to show off the new Porsche to a selected group of 300 motoring journalists.

At the 2002 Detroit Motor Show, Porsche announced its intention to put the Carrera GT into production — with an intention to build only 1500 examples at its Leipzig manufacturing facility.

The car’s official debut came a year later at the Geneva Motor Show, with the first production cars going on sale in early 2004. Despite the original intention to produce 1500 Carrera GTs, production ceased in 2006 after just 1270 cars had been produced. The sudden halt was apparently brought about by altered US airbag regulations which, alas, would make the Carrera GT unsellable in its largest market — the US had taken around half of the entire Carrera GT production.

Porsche learned a lot from its first genuine supercar, the 959, but it remains to be seen what lessons it may have learned from the Carrera GT — Porschephiles wait in anticipation.

Specs

1988 Porsche 959

Engine: Twin turbocharged flat-six

Capacity: 2847cc

Bore/ stroke: 98x76mm

Comp ratio: 8.30:1

Valves: dohc per bank

Max power: 331kW at 6500rpm

Max torque: 500Nm at 5000rpm

Fuel system: Fuel injection

Transmission: Six-speed manual

Suspension (F/R)Independent, double wishbones, coil springs, dampers and anti-roll bar

Steering: Rack and pinion, PAS

Brakes: Ventilated discs, ABS

Wheels: Hollow-spoked alloy

Tyres: F: 235/45VR17, R: 255/40VR17

Dimensions:

• Wheelbase: 2268mm
• Overall length: 4260mm
• Width1840mm
• Height: 1280mm
• Track F/R: 1504/1549mm
• Weight: 1450kg

Performance:

• Top Speed: 317kph (197mph)
• 0-100kph: 3.7 seconds
• Economy: N/A

Specs

2004 Porsche Carrera GT

Engine: 68-degree V10

Capacity: 5733cc

Bore/ stroke: 98x76mm

Comp ratio: 12.0:1

Valves: dohc per bank

Max power: 450kW at 8000rpm

Max torque: 590Nm at 5750rpm

Fuel system: Sequential multi-point fuel injection

Transmission: Six-speed manual

Suspension (F/R): Independent, double wishbones, coil springs, dampers and anti-roll bar

Steering: Rack and pinion, PAS

Brakes: Composite ceramic discs, six-piston callipers, ABS

Wheels: Magnesium centre-lock; F: 9 1/2J x 19/R: 12 1/2J x 20

Tyres: F: 265/35ZR19, R: 335/30ZR20,/p>

Dimensions:

• Wheelbase: 2730mm
• Overall length: 613mm
• Width: 1921mm
• Height: 1166mm
• Track F/R: 1612/1587mm
• Weight: 1380kg

Performance:

• Top Speed : 330kph (205mph)
• 0-100kph: 3.9 seconds
• Economy: 17.8l/100km

Words by Ashley Webb and Allan Walton | Photos by Dan Wakelin

Many thanks to Continental Car Services for their assistance in preparing this article

Upgrading a classic is more than some people can bear, but this 911S is a perfect example of doing it for the right reasons

In 1965 Ralph Nader published Unsafe at Any Speed. The book was scathing in its account of automakers’ resistance to introduce safety features like seat belts into cars, and a general reluctance to spend money improving occupant protection and vehicle safety. Nader’s persistence, and GM’s subsequent attempts to discredit him using underhand tactics like hiring prostitutes to catch him in compromising situations, lead a groundswell of public and political support for new laws. In 1966 the National Traffic and Motor Vehicle Safety Act was unanimously passed in the USA — a result not just of Nader’s relentless campaigning, but also the very real fact that grisly traffic fatalities were all too common, and escalating rapidly.

The Act brought a raft of requirements for automotive manufacturers including shatterproof windscreens, energy-absorbing steering wheels, head rests and safety belts.

Safety fast

No auto manufacturer can ignore America as a market, and in 1974 the Porsche 911 G Series was released to the US market, having received fundamental and significant body modification for the first time in its history as a result of impact laws. The most noticeable change was the requirement for functional bumpers. These stipulated that a car must be able to withstand an 8kph impact without body damage, and resulted in the bumpers being much thicker, and mounted higher.

At the front the grille was deleted and the indicators integrated into the bumper, which wrapped around with bellows and detail lines flowing right back to the wheel arch. The rear also featured corner bellows, along with two black over-riders (housing the number-plate lights), all sitting below a red non-reflective valance inscribed boldly with ‘Porsche’.

Along the sill, a black rubber trim strip was applied, and all other detailing — door handles, window trim strips, wing mirrors and headlamp surrounds were highlighted with brightwork for the 911 and 911S.
A 911 Carrera was also introduced, and a top of the range 911 Turbo was presented at the Paris Auto Show.

California dreaming

Imported new into the USA in 1975, our featured 911S started life as a white example in San Francisco. The standard six-cylinder, horizontally opposed engine managed to squeeze out 129kW from its 2687cc. Fortunately the 911S weighed just 1090kg, giving reasonable acceleration for the time — 100kph (62mph) could arrive in 7.6 seconds, and a top speed of 225kph (140mph) was possible for the brave. A five-speed transmission and limited slip differential were options at the time, and it’s believed this Porsche had the optional five-speed but no LSD — it’s only noted as a 915-type on the documentation (915/16 was the four-speed, while 915/06 was the five-speed).

All Porsches through to the 1998 996 were air-cooled via a grille beneath the rear window. The 911S didn’t feature the whale-tail spoiler which came standard on the Carrera RS, but many owners invested in one to help tame the tail-happy handling at higher speeds. The previous owner also added a small black lip spoiler at the front, similar to that on the 1975 911 Turbo.

Updating a motoring icon

In 1997 this 911S began its journey to New Zealand. It was a true California car, arriving here as if it had never seen the rain, with the bodywork in almost as pristine condition as the day it rolled out of the factory 22 years prior. On arrival the car had all glass and panels removed. Each panel was individually stripped and sprayed yellow inside and out, removing any trace that this car was once white.

The headlight surrounds, which would have been chrome, are now yellow, mimicking the colour-matching that was applied on Carrera RS models. The door handles and window trim have been painted black, like a 911 Carrera.

The 2.7-litre engine was discarded in favour of a 3.2-litre mill from a 1984 Carrera to make the 911S more responsive and driveable. These engines are also more reliable, and come with the benefit of electronic fuel injection.
Europacific, in Pirongia, took the engine apart and resealed it, then remounted it with the new wiring harness and ECU. In the process the rocker covers and cooling fan cowling were detailed in yellow. A rebuilt five-speed gearbox and new clutch replaced the four-speed original. This didn’t require many changes, as the body shape of a 1970s 911 is not significantly different to that of an early 1990s model.

With the increase in power from 129kW to 170kW the original 15-inch wheels with 185/70R15 tyres were deemed to be too skinny — older 911 models were twitchy at best, and could exhibit severe lift-off oversteer because of the rear-engine layout. Seventeen-inch wheels from an early ’90s Carrera were installed. These run 215/45R17 tyres at the front and 235/45R17 at the rear.

The standard brakes were retained, and these have no servo; therefore thighs like a shot-putter are required. As with all early 911 Porsches, the pedals are slightly offset and the brake pedal is way too high. The heavy brake pedal is connected to two-pot brakes and ventilated discs on all four corners.

Mellow yellow

It wasn’t just the exterior that got the yellow treatment. The original front seats were discarded, and replaced with lighter weight black bucket seats with yellow trim. These offset the increase in weight caused by the addition of central locking and an alarm/immobiliser system. A new Momo steering wheel was installed with yellow trim and a Momo gear knob was found in, you guessed it, yellow. They were still not satisfied with the amount of yellow in the interior of the car, so a yellow-faced stereo was installed

The carpets and mats were replaced — in black, with yellow trim, of course, all except for the boot (in the front) which just has black carpet. A space saver spare wheel nestles in the boot, partially surrounded by the fuel tank. This wheel comes flat and can be inflated with the supplied electric compressor.

The remainder of the car is standard, though some components such as the shocks were rebuilt.

Several months were spent working on the car from when it arrived in 1997 to its first registration. Over $20,000 of mechanical work was undertaken, not including the respray — all the receipts are there, along with shipping documentation, photos of the original car being stripped, and an original 911 brochure from the early ’70s.

Retina magnet

Walking up to the 911S I felt what must have gone through the mind of the original owner in New Zealand — a sense of trepidation and excitement.

The 911S cranked over a couple of times then fired up, settling into a raspy and menacing bear-like growl. The driver sits looking forwards between the deep channel created by the fenders and those iconic lights. Blip the throttle and Stuttgart’s engineering sounds off.

Back away slowly, gather yourself together, take a look around. A yellow Porsche is a retina magnet, so you know people are watching you. The first time you pull away in something innocuous or anonymous, there’s no real apprehension, but I have embarrassingly stalled conspicuous cars before (for example, a Radical SR3 at the pit lane exit of Eastern Creek raceway), so I’m always a bit more generous with the revs the first time. The clutch bit near the top and in no time second gear was required and I had cars right behind me.

Being left-hand drive, it was the first time I’d had to change gears right-handed. The gearbox in a 911 doesn’t like to be rushed. Treat a gear change like you would your faithful old Labrador — take it out, let it do its business, then encourage it back in again with a firm and guiding hand.

Throw into the mix the four feet of car now on your right hand side as opposed to your left, and your brain is busy calculating revs and road position, and remembering to raise your foot slightly higher than usual for the brake.
Performance is brisk because of the uprated engine and the 911S’s lack of encumbrance — it feels like a low six-second pass to 100kph could be easily achieved, and that ties in well with the quoted performance figures for mid-’90s Carreras.

Back to the present day

Our comparison car in the 911 range is this 911 Carrera cabriolet with the 997-style body. The DNA is strong in this line. They undoubtedly share the same heritage from the outside, but on the inside it’s a totally different story.
A modern Porsche is tractable at low speeds, civilised, pleasant and jammed full of driver aids and items for your comfort, but capable of surging forward aggressively.

An old Porsche has far fewer requirements — it simply exists to raise your adrenaline, and get you from A to B while ensuring you know you’ve driven every centimetre, some of it in abject terror (depending on your mood and the quality of the road). The steering, like the braking, is heavy. There’s no point in adding the weight of power steering paraphernalia when the 911S is supposed to be sporty and manly.

By comparison, the 997 is luxurious — sumptuous, but in a sporty way — with its nicely weighted steering, stitched leather interior and beautiful-sounding entertainment system. Like all 911s it suffers from low-speed power understeer, but generally it does go round corners like a bobsled full of Austrians, gripping you in its superb electronically adjustable bucket seats. Newer Porsches have rubber-mounted sub-frames that dampen the bumps, and combine that with tyres almost a foot wide, PSM traction control, and huge cross-drilled brake rotors, and vast tracts of countryside can be covered in the shortest ¨of times.

So, do you go for the supremely confident $220,000 option — the 997 with its myriad of electronic trickery, a beautifully finished interior and 30 years of chassis and engine development? Or do you go for the supremely exhilarating and raw 911S?

The 997 Porsche could be a daily driver. You can simply cruise around admiring its quality interior finish, or you dial up variable levels of excitement depending upon the angle of the throttle pedal.

By comparison, the 911S is typical of cars of the ’70s — straight lines on the dashboard, no LCD readouts or climate control air conditioning; it is beautiful in its own perforated vinyl way. It is also very exciting. There’s more to think about and more to involve the driver. Whichever one you prefer, the final choice will, no doubt, depend upon your driving experience.

1975 Porsche 911S (as modified)- Specifications

Engine
Six-cylinder horizontally opposed, air-cooled, rear-mounted

Capacity
3.2-litre

C/R
10.3:1

Max power
170kW at 5900rpm

Max torque
284Nm at 4800rpm

Transmission
Five-speed manual

Suspension
Front: MacPherson struts; rear: multi-link. Porsche Active Suspension Management

Brakes
Ventilated discs

Wheels
17-inch alloy

Tyres
215/45R17 (F), 235/45R17 (R)

Dimensions
Length/width
4291mm/1610mm

Weight/height
1090kg/1320mm

Performance 0-100kph
approx 6 to 7 secs

2005 Porsche 911 Carrera Cabriolet (997) – Specifications

Engine
Six-cylinder horizontally opposed, water-cooled, rear-mounted

Capacity
3.6-litre

C/R
11.3:1

Max power
239kW at 6800rpm

Max torque
370Nm at 4250rpm

Transmission
Six-speed manual

Suspension
Front: MacPherson struts; rear: semi-trailing arms

Brakes
Ventilated and cross-drilled discs

Wheels
18-inch alloy¨(optional 19-inch wheels shown)

Tyres
235/35R19 (F), 295/35R19 (R) (optional)

Dimensions
Length/width
4427mm/1808mm

Weight/height
1480kg/1310mm

Performance 0-100kph
5.2 secs

Words Darren Cottingham Photos Dan Wakelin

While the general public know James Dean as a movie star, most readers will remember him best for his love of fast cars, especially Porsches.

Words: Eoin Young Photos: Terry Marshall

Fifty years to the weekend that saw movie star James Dean lose his life in a road accident driving his new Porsche 550RS Spyder to a race in California, I borrowed a gloriously sleek look-alike Spyder, created by former Kiwi racer Graham McRae.

The name Spyder was first seen on a Porsche at the London Motor Show in 1954, and the stage was set for international competition in 1955

This locally designed and built Spyder was the first of a series that McRae began manufacturing in 1993, and was based around a 2.0-litre Porsche 914 with a five-speed gearbox. McRae was a technical perfectionist, and his Spyder is the spitting image of the originals built by Porsche in 1954 and 1955. The name Spyder was first seen on a Porsche at the London Motor Show in 1954, and the stage was set for international competition in 1955.

Tight fit

The seat adjustment on the McRae Spyder is accomplished with a spanner, which meant that I was a bit too cosy with the steering wheel as the car’s owner is even more altitudinally challenged than I am. I recall that the Ford GT40 was always promoted as ‘the car you have to be measured for’ — but this was because the seat was fixed and the pedals had to be adjusted. I was reminded of this as, in preparation for my road test of the McRae, other adjustments of a more personal nature came when it was suggested that I would somehow become more comfortable if the seat squab was removed. It gave me more gut room, and I was now literally getting the feel of the Spyder through the seat of my pants.

The fibreglass body is silver blue, echoing the factory cars that raced in Europe. I had an image of a Spyder etched in my mind ever since I saw a 1950s book of motor racing art by the German artist Carlo Demand. He drew the excitement of Hans Herrman and his co-driver ducking under level crossing gates on the 1955 Mille Miglia, diving across just in front of an Italian train. Years after doting on that picture in a book I could never afford to buy as a schoolboy, I received an email from Carlo Demand seeking a book from my UK memorabilia stock. I replied, telling him of my favourite picture, and by sheer chance he still had the original, which I bought from him, having by now graduated from impecunious schoolboy status. By further chance, Herrman turned up to the annual gathering of the Ancien Pilote’s club at Monaco a few years ago, and he was signing copies of that same Mille Miglia drawing. It was his favourite as well.

The Dean connection

A young German mechanic, Rolf Wütherich, worked in Johnny von Neumann’s Porsche dealership, and he jumped at the chance of accompanying James Dean, the exciting movie star, to a race at Salinas in the road-going racing sports car Dean had just bought.

Wutherich was 28 and had worked at the Porsche factory from the early days in 1950, with experience on the works cars at Le Mans, Rheims, Avus and the Mille Miglia in 1953 and 1954. Only 90 of the 550RS competition versions would be built, and it was Wütherich who recommended Dean as a suitable customer. He had a ‘name’ and he had basic talent, even though he had competed in only three races. The 1500cc four-cylinder engine in the racer gave 74.5kW (100bhp) at 6200rpm. Before that, James Dean had raced a 1500 Speedster. It cost Dean $25,000 and he christened it ‘The Little Bastard.’ Porsche’s new model had performed well in the Mille Miglia that summer, winning the class and finishing eighth overall. In the 24-hour race at Le Mans a Spyder 550 won the Index of Performance. Six cars were entered and five finished.

Rebel Without a Cause

James Dean seemed to do things in threes. He had fame as a movie star and yet, at 24, he had been in only three major movies. The Dean legend started with Rebel Without a Cause. His other blockbusters had been East of Eden and Giant, both of which debuted after Dean’s death and earned him the uncertain honour of being the first actor to receive an Academy Award nomination posthumously for his role in East of Eden, and the only actor to receive more than one posthumous Oscar nomination. Dean, who had already sampled speed on two wheels with a Harley Davidson, didn’t really conform to film star standards of behaviour, and his romances with starlets were invented by the PR department at Warner Brothers. His idea of getting down and dirty was to work on the engine of his Porsche.

Dean, who had already sampled speed on two wheels with a Harley Davidson, didn’t really conform to film star standards of behaviour

His first race was at Palm Springs in March 1955, a six-lapper for production sports cars 1300-1500cc with a mix of Porsches and MG TFs. Dean won in his 1500 Speedster. The next day he ran in the 27-lap for sports cars under 1500cc, and he ended up third overall and first in class. As far as the eager young Dean was concerned, he had won again. Being beaten by such as Ken Miles and Cy Yedor in their MG Specials was simply an accolade. Next time out at Minter Field near Bakersfield in Southern California, at the end of April, the racing was harder. The field for the SCCA meet was stronger, but Dean was still third overall in the under 1500cc production class. The next day in the open under-1500cc class he was ninth overall and second in class.

He entered the Speedster at races in Santa Barbara in May, and again in September, but he never showed. It seemed that the movie moguls were worried their young superstar could ruin their shooting schedules if he were to crash his Porsche in a weekend race. While Dean was working out his star roles in his Hollywood epics in 1955, Warner Brothers bosses forbade him to race. It was not because he would have been distracted, they wanted to avoid the chance of an accident that could delay shooting — or worse.

After his disappointing showing at Santa Barbara in the 356 Speedster, Dean decided he was ready for a faster car. Having already admired Porsche’s 550 Spyder, Dean went to see the US Porsche distributor, John von Neumann (who also raced a Spyder), and was promised one of the factory’s first US-bound 1955-model  Spyders. Anxious for a faster car, and unsure whether Porsche could deliver his new Spyder in time for the new season, Dean also ordered a Lotus X, in which he planned to install an Offenhauser engine.

However, the deal with Lotus fell through and, as it happened, the promised shipment of Porsche Spyder’s arrived in time, landing in the US on 16th September. On the night before the Giant premiere, Dean got his first look at his new car when he drove down to von Neumann’s showroom on Vine Street. A few days later, Dean test-drove the Spyder and struck a deal with von Neumann, trading in his Speedster and US$3000 to acquire the new Porsche. With all the publicity for Giant now been completed, Dean was eager to go racing with his new car. Not everyone shared his enthusiasm. When he showed the Porsche racer to thespians Alec Guinness and Grace Kelly he bragged it would do 240kph. Guinness apparently told him that he thought it looked dangerous; that if he drove it he would be dead within a week. Six days later he was proved right.

Fateful journey

To run in his new Porsche, Dean and Wütherich decided to drive it to the Salinas track by road, rather than trailer it. His mates would follow in a Chevrolet station wagon. History was following Dean. Carl von Delius was driving the Chevrolet. He was known as ‘Charlie’ in laid-back California, and was von Neumann’s PR man and brother of German racing driver Ernst von Delius, who had been killed in an Auto Union in the 1937 German GP on the Nürburgring. Von Delius had been battling with Dick Seaman’s Mercedes when the Auto Union leaped a hump-backed bridge on the long undulating finishing straight and landed askew, taking Seaman’s car with it. The Auto Union careered through a wire fence, went end-over-end twice and finished up outside the circuit on the Koblenz road. Von Delius died of his injuries the following morning.

The guys in the Chev had caught up, and one told Dean to take it easy; that his movie career was going to be more important than his car racing

There was a lot of fate about on that morning of the last day in September, 1955. Charlie took a photo of the pair in the Porsche on Dean’s camera before they set off. Dean was holding Rolf’s hand aloft, shouting, “Hi! We’re going to win!” At their first stop for gas they met up with Lance Reventlow, who was having one of his first races at Salinas in a new 300SL Mercedes. In later years he would build the famous Scarab sports cars, and eventually mount a losing attempt on taking a front-engined car to the European Grand Prix races. They arranged to meet for dinner that evening. It was an appointment that couldn’t be kept.

Dean had a Coke, Rolf ate an apple and remembered saying to Dean, “Now don’t you run wild in this race. There’s a big difference between a 1500 Super and a Spyder. Feel your way first.” The guys in the Chev had caught up, and one told Dean to take it easy; that his movie career was going to be more important than his car racing. Dean grinned and said he’d be a good boy.

Final moments

As it turned out, Dean’s death was not really of his doing. It was a case of being in the wrong place in a long-slung silver racer, at the wrong time. It was 5.45pm and sun was low as they approached a junction where turning traffic had to give way. A 1938 Ford, driven by a Californian Polytechnic student with the unlikely name of Donald Turnupseed, was approaching the ‘stop’ sign to turn left onto the main road. In those days in that part of the world a stop sign meant you slowed down, and if nothing was coming you motored on through. Turnupseed was the same age as the man he was about to kill. “I did not see the Spyder,” he said later. “I only saw it when it was too late.”

James Byron Dean had a saying of his own: “Dream, as if you’ll live forever. Live as if you’ll die today¦

James Dean was killed instantly and Wutherich was thrown out of the car, clear over the intersection, suffering serious head and leg injuries. It was the end of a career that had barely begun. The Eagles penned a lyric that seemed to sum up the carefree young star in the Porsche: “Too fast to live, too young to die.” James Byron Dean had a saying of his own: “Dream, as if you’ll live forever. Live as if you’ll die today¦”

Tim checks out the only Porsche 911 Speedster currently resident in New Zealand and, just for good measure, tests the car alongside its more illustrious ancestor — the 356 Speedster.

Ten years before it actually happened, the rear-engined Porsche was already sentenced to death. Those in charge of the company viewed the 911 and its derivatives as an anachronism for a company devoted to providing Germany’s best sports cars. As such, most development efforts were concentrated on front-engined V8 and four-cylinder models.

However, Porsche had reckoned without three things: the determination of certain members of its board that the 911’s flat-six engine still had many years of sales potential; the reluctance shown by 911 owners to ditch their favourite Porsche; and one major outside influence — a rampant economy in its major markets, which saw the 911 become an icon, not as a sports car, but a status symbol.

It was ‘the look’ and ‘iconic’ status that was selling Porsches, just as much as their technical excellence

The constant success of the 911 on race tracks ensured that it was never out of the spotlight and remained in almost continual development. So, unlike many evergreen sports cars such as MG and Triumph that were allowed to wilt on the bush, the 911 always remained ‘current’ — a fact which certainly helped when the Porsche board capitulated and gave the 911 a reprieve.

As we know, the car went on to even greater things and is still, in much modified form, a sought-after production and racing car today.

Yuppie express

In 1988 Porsche was focused on different things to the 911’s road competence and race success. It had captured the ‘yuppie’ market hook, line and sinker. Porsche could have released an absolute sow of a car, and as long as it looked flashy and carried the Zuffenhausen nose-badge and the accoutrements that the rich expected, it would have always had a waiting list.

Once the death sentence had been lifted, the new city rich were buying Porsches in truly big numbers, creating revenue which could be sunk into the rear-engined concept in a constant struggle of development over design. It was a battle which Porsche won most impressively. Whilst most are agreed that having a pendulum behind the rear wheels is not the ideal start point for good road manners, Porsche not only suppressed the wild tendencies of the layout but ensured the 911 was amongst the best handling cars in the world.

Listen and learn

Having learned the lesson of listening to its loyal customers, Porsche was amongst the first to plough the furrow of retro design — the prevailing fashion of the ’90s — having realised the importance of motoring icons. The 911 was a renewed success more because it was an icon than because of its technical brilliance. Porsche realised that heritage was its market, and started delving into its own company history, reviving revered names from the past — such as Carrera. Having celebrated 20 years of 911 production during 1984, the SC 3.0 was replaced by the new G-series Carrera with a 3.2-litre engine.

Although the bodywork, suspension, and most of the interior were taken from the preceding SC, the Carrera had more power, better brakes and was more luxurious. The funds for front-engined car development were now being used to produce 911s that appealed to a wider market. Porsche’s master-stroke had been the Turbo, which achieved iconic status nearly immediately — being stunningly fast and therefore stunningly important to have parked outside your office or wine-bar. Porsche, again listening to a new breed of customers, made it possible for the new Carrera and Turbo to be ordered in either cabriolet, Targa or coupe form.

The newly iconic wide-body Turbo look was important to customers, but not everyone wanted the grunt so the Carrera became available in 1984 with the wide body and spoilers of the Turbo. It was an instant hit, even though it wasn’t as fast as the standard car because of the bewinged body’s increased aerodynamic drag and rolling resistance.

It was ‘the look’ and ‘iconic’ status that was selling Porsches, just as much as their technical excellence, and tapping into motoring heritage was becoming trendy. In Porsche’s all-important American market the most famous person to be associated with Porsches actually died in one, a fact which seemed to have been conveniently forgotten. James Dean, the rebel without a cause, was inextricably associated with Porsche.

The details of the story are lost on the great unwashed, but Dean died in a Porsche Spyder sports racing car, even though his name is forever associated by the public at large with what they know as the Porsche Speedster, a car the short-lived cult movie star had previously owned and raced with enthusiasm.

Short cut

Dr Helmuth Bott, one of Porsche’s highly respected engineers, had in 1982 put forward a concept 911 (not for any other reason than to make a super-light and simple 911) in the same mould as the original Speedster, as used by many club racers — including James Dean in 1950s.

Porsches have always retained a great following because of their solid indestructibility and practicality for everyday use

The use of the ‘Speedster’ name up until that time had been highly verboten, but it was clear where Bott was coming from; his car was totally stripped of parts unnecessary for speed or competition; it had no roof, only two seats and a tiny aero screen without windscreen wipers. Peter Schutz, the Porsche boss at the time, was sufficiently impressed to have one of the pure two-seaters made for himself, complete with a low-line hard-top. However, it wasn’t considered worthy of production until the now market-savvy Porsche management saw an opportunity in Bott’s concept — a tangible link to the Speedster name and its iconic past. Not dwelling too long on Bott’s super-light theme, Porsche product planners requested a retro-look 911, based on the cabriolet version’s chassis, which was duly introduced at the Frankfurt Show in 1987, ready for production in 1988.

The new car had 80 millimetres cut off the windscreen, which had five degrees more rake than standard, and was surrounded by a clever, high-strength aluminium extruded frame. There were no quarter windows, and it had a rudimentary manual hood that folded beneath a fibreglass cover. It didn’t have electric windows or seats, and went without many comfort fittings, all of which shed 70kg. But because of the cabrio’s extra weight over the coupe, that advantage was reduced to 40kg — and reduced to nothing if the wide-body look was ordered.

The need to appeal to the US market meant that, unlike Bott’s concept, things like windscreen wipers had to be included and be effective, as well as many of the safety and emissions fitments the market demanded. For some unexplained reason the Speedster has a front spoiler that is different to any other Porsche model. The 1180kg, 1988 911 Speedster was no track-day car as we would know it today, or as Bott’s concept had envisaged, let alone what the original Speedster had been.

The crash

Even the then-current Club Sport Coupe was lighter at 1172kg, and the pukka 911 lightweight, the 1973 2.7RS coupe had tipped the scales at 975kg. The new Speedster was definitely not aimed at the same bunch that had bought the original Speedster in the 1950s, it was more a fashion item designed for those lucky enough to live in the sunny climate of North America’s West Coast. Another fashion of the cash rich ’80s was that of investment automobiles, and cars achieved huge values due to their rarity. Porsche targeted this market with the Speedster, and made it known that there would only be 2000 made. Of the 2065 actually built, only 170 didn’t have the Turbo-look wide body. Eight hundred and twenty-three 911 Speedsters went to the USA, and only 139 examples were made for the right-hand-drive market.

Porsche wasn’t to know, and neither were its buyers, that this investment frenzy would end abruptly with a worldwide economic crash; the bottom dropped spectacularly out of collector’s cars, making the last of the G-Series Porsche Speedsters difficult to sell. The Speedster made a brief reappearance in 1993 with the 964 model, now the rarest of them all, with only 936 cars produced. Based on the Carrera 2 floorpan, and only produced with non-turbo width bodywork, 427 went to the US with only 14 right-hand-drive cars constructed.

Porsches have always retained a great following because of their solid indestructibility and practicality for everyday use. Without the latter, the Speedster wallowed a little in terms of value, but it has now returned to become a firm favourite with collectors because of its rarity, and often, because of it’s impracticality, they were bought as an investment but had very little use.

Collectors’ pieces

Neil Tolich and Paul Halford are both well known to us at NZ Classic Car, being popular Dunlop Targa competitors, and each having had their other classics on the cover of the magazine in the recent past. Neil and Paul have a taste for the unusual and the exotic, which is probably why both own the most cherished of Porsche production cars — the Speedster — albeit 32 years apart.

Neil has owned his 1956 356 Speedster for some years now, and uses it regularly on the road even though it is in beautiful condition and worth a mint. What prompted us to get Neil to wheel his Speedster out in front of our cameras was the news that Paul Halford had just imported what we believe is only one of a few 911 Speedsters in the country. To our knowledge there are only three genuine 356 Speedsters in New Zealand, so we arranged a meeting of these two rare beasts.

The older Porsche is basically a pure tub, with wheels tucked way inside, whereas the more modern wunderkind has curves, flares and bulges everywhere

Paul’s 911 Speedster is a very low mileage example, and when you drive it, it is obvious that it has not even been run in yet, 16 years after leaving the factory. The whale-tail spoiler was a optional fitment on Speedsters and appeared on most wide-body or Turbo-look cars of the time, so it doesn’t look out of place. Indeed, the flat box on the engine cover which supports the wing (and normally houses the intercoolers on a Turbo version) actually serves to understate the beetle-back fibreglass hood cover, a controversial piece of styling unique to the 911 Speedster.

The folding roof carries a disclaimer from Porsche with regard to its weather-beating capabilities, and it would only be any real use to keep most of the weather off the car’s upholstery when standing still. Not the work of a moment to erect, it is clearly not intended for regular use. The low-line Porsche looks super-cool with the roof down, but fabulously sinister with its blue cape in place.

Same difference

So, having brought the two together, what do they have in common? A name, huge collector status, an engine behind the rear axle, pedals that sprout out of the floor and next to no visibility with the roof up.

Looks? No, apart from both looking more like a beetle than a VW Beetle with the roof down (it occurred to me that if it had black spots the 356 Speedster would look like a ladybird), the older Porsche is basically a pure tub, with wheels tucked way inside, whereas the more modern wunderkind has curves, flares and bulges everywhere. It looks pure muscle.

Noise? No, not really, but both do make an absolutely superb noise when working hard. Many would expect the little ladybird to make a noise like a Volkswagen, but it is nothing of the sort, refined all the way through its rev range, from a warble to a shrill hard blare. The 911 sounds better from the outside than inside; at idle and low rpm there is a collection of sounds like an orchestra warming up, but once all the instruments come together on hard throttle they hit a primordial scream, a combination of octaves which hit you right there. There is nothing quite like a 911 on full song.

The performance? Well they were both quickish in their day, but neither is gor-blimey fast. What brings these two cars together is the feel of total integrity through the controls, whether it be the steering, the throttle or the brakes. The newer car’s steering is quite heavy by comparison with the oldster, but both pass uncorrupted messages straight through to the driver, which makes you feel totally in touch with the road.

The brakes are heavy on the 356 and light on the newbie, but both pull you up with total fidelity, stability and reassurance. Both gear changes are light and precise in a diffident fashion, and given this confidence and reassurance you feel, it is possible to push both cars along very smartly with a total sense of security. A sense of security which is misplaced, I am led to believe by some, but if you drive to the instructions they are both hugely rewarding.

It is this warm sense of Porsche integrity and security — encapsulating Porsche ownership across the world — which bridges the generation gap between these two Speedsters.

1956 Porsche Speedster 1600S

Engine: Flat four (Type 616/2)
Capacity: 1582cc
Max power: 56kW (75bhp) at 5000rpm
Max torque: 117Nm (86lb/ft) at 3700rpm
Fuel system: Twin Zenith 32NDIX
Transmission: Four-speed manual
Brakes: Drum/drum
Suspension: Front: Independent by transverse torsion bars, trailing arms, dampers and anti-roll bar; Rear: Independent by swing axles, transverse torsion bars, radius arms and dampers
Wheels: 15×4.5-inch pressed steel
Tyres: 1450

DIMENSIONS

O/all length: 4051mm
Width: 1692mm
Height: 1231mm (top down)
Wheelbase: 2128mm
Track F/R: 1318/1285mm
Kerb weight: 650kg

PERFORMANCE

Max speed: 177kph (110mph)
0-60mph: 10.0secs

1989 Porsche 911 Speedster

Engine: Flat six
Capacity: 3164cc
Max power: 172kW (231bhp) at 5900rpm
Max torque: 284Nm at 4800rpm
Fuel system: Twin Zenith 32NDIX
Transmission: Five-speed manual
Brakes: Disc/disc
Suspension: Front:Independent by longitudinal torsion bars, trailing arms, dampers and anti-roll bar; Rear: Independent by semi-trailing arms, transverse torsion bars, dampers and anti-roll bar
Wheels: Fuchs forged alloy
Tyres: 205/55-16 (F), 225/50-16 (R)

DIMENSIONS

O/all length: 4291mm
Width: 1650mm (Turbo look: 1829mm)
Height: 1292mm
Wheelbase: 2271mm
Track F/R: 1389/1405mm (Turbo-look: 1432/1500mm)
Kerb weight: 1327kg

PERFORMANCE

Max speed: 240kph
0-100kph: 6.2secs

I’ll never forget my first drive in a Porsche. It came during my early months in the motor noting business; I was to photograph motoring journalist Brian Cowan hurling the first 911 996 in NZ around a bit of local scenery. But on picking the car up he asked the then boss at European Motor Distributors, the Porsche importer, if I could have a drive. Trevor Hudson was an enthusiast first; a businessman second. He didn’t bat an eyelid.

Thus my first Porsche was a left-hand-drive 996, on unfamiliar roads, with a madman in the passenger seat telling me to follow his instructions exactly. He did know the roads, and had a pretty good idea of the car’s capability. “Third!” he barked. “Flat! Lift! Second! Flat! Veers left over brow! For God’s sake woman, put your foot in it!” And I did. Heart in mouth, too busy to register my life flashing before my eyes. Tyres chirping, that fantastic engine shoving me in the back with each lurid prod at the throttle; hovering on the knife edge of control, Cowan laughing delightedly at my introduction to driving Nirvana. I was hooked. And it was thanks to Hudson’s conviction that enthusiasm should be nurtured.

Fast forward seven or eight years

Hudson’s retired; but he’s still an enthusiast. His retirement car of choice is the only Porsche Carrera 356 in the country. Actually it was bought as an investment 18 years ago together with then boss, Colin Giltrap. Giltrap might be the consummate businessman, but he’s also a petrol-head. “It’s co-owned,” Hudson says with a smile, “But I’ve got custody, and I maintain and run it.”

And it certainly is run. When he retired Hudson celebrated by taking a 6500km south-island odyssey in the car, travelling south via a few fairly challenging roads. “The first day we went from Auckland to Taumurunui, then Whangamomona. The pub was junk back then!” But not the Carrera. “It’s good on gravel — the tyres are very narrow, and cut in.”

Waikaremoana seems to strike a spark in 356 owners — perhaps their passion makes them link their piece of history with this historic road. One of Minister of Parliament Harry Duynhoven’s first long drives in his 356, the oldest in NZ, was over the same road, “About 30 years ago, not long after I bought it.” That Hudson has barely had to touch his Carrera since he purchased it doesn’t surprise Duynhoven. Meeting me at an industry event and asking that standard ‘driven anything interesting lately’ question, he lit up when told I’d been in Hudson’s car just hours previously.

“The first time I came across his car was I think in 1978, when I’d finally restored — or refurbished — my 1953 356 to a moderately presentable state. I was tracking down another early Porsche, and the owner of that said ‘do you know about the Carrera?’” Duynhoven chuckles; “Of course I didn’t, but I went to see it and it was owned by a wonderful enthusiast, Gordon Voghterr, in Hastings.

“There was this Carrera, in beautiful condition. His father had owned it from new and sold it, and he’d bought it back many years later. It was in stunning condition, just stunning, an original car in beautiful condition, as opposed to mine! Mine was pretty scruffy when I bought it, and I’d really just tidied it up.”
Was he tempted to buy it?

“No, I just wanted to drool over it really, it was a beautiful early Porsche, and when I found there was an early 356 car in NZ I had to see it, it was just so rare.”
Duynhoven didn’t get to drive it and is clearly jealous; the first, and probably the last time a Minister of the Crown will ever covet one of my achievements.
“Gordon did fire it up and drove it out of the garage, but it wasn’t warranted or something, we didn’t go for a drive in it. I saw it again just recently at the Tongariro 356 gathering, and it looked as pristine as it did 25 years ago.”
Duynhoven was there as he’s still got a couple of 356s.

Six volter

Hudson’s car is still in good nick. I’m trying to find out what he’s done to it, but it’s very little — and he’s not aware of many changes since it was new. “I think a section of the carpet is new, there’s a slight variation in the colour; but it hasn’t been touched in the time we’ve had the car.” He thinks the headrests were after market. “They’re bulky, clumsy things and I won’t use them — not just because they don’t look right, they’re uncomfortable and they fill the cabin too much, and make vision to the rear difficult.”

The radio’s ‘new’ — “Blaupunkt found this in Invercargill,” — but the Carrera still runs on six volts. “A lot of people change the six volt cars to 12, and while that’s quite good I was keen to retain the car with its original spec.” Really the only departure is the fire extinguisher bolted under the driver-side dash. The seats are covered in the original red leather, which has gained a glowing patina where decades of backs and bottoms have rubbed it. The overall effect of the creamy paint, the gleaming black roof, those lovely curves and inside, the glowing red and cream — this car has presence.

How far has it travelled? “It’s showing 98,000 miles (157,711km); when I got it the distance recorder wasn’t accurate. I had it recalibrated with new cables and things, so I’m not sure what it’s done in total, but it’ll have done at least 32,000km since we had it — not a great deal when you think how long that is.” As we walk around the car we admire the details that separate this 356 from the rest of the breed.

“This one doesn’t have disc brakes,” Hudson points out, “It’s the last of the drum — but being a Carrera, just look at the size of the brakes! The drum’s almost the diameter of the wheel. They all went to disc in about 1961.” Are these tyres originals? “They’re Michelins; they’re still available new.” And what’s the flattened black pipe tucked beneath the rear bumper? “The car has a quite unique heater. It’s petrol fired! I don’t use it for safety reasons, though it was standard fitment from new.”

And the roof? “I don’t take it off because it’s so good — it doesn’t rattle, it doesn’t leak, and you’d have to be confident it wouldn’t rain when you were out. Not all the Carreras had the removable hard-top. In fact it’s one of the unique features of this car — only one 1958 RHD four-cam engined-Carrera was manufactured with the removable hard top. Any other four-cam cars built that year weren’t RHD, or with the hard top.”

Already someone’s come up to ask about the car — a constant hazard when trying to photograph a beautiful classic. But this time’s a bit different, for Ian Goldingham has seen it before. His dad was the secretary for Joe Gardner, and he remembers going to the bach in Taupo, “Doing 120mph (193kph) in this car; I was about seven at the time!”

Clearly it’s a valued memory and he  recalls a sister car to this one, in a pale powder blue. “Jo Gardner had a showroom on Broadway, roughly where the Nissan showroom is now. I know Jo quite well, and Alex Stringer who drove a car for Jo and raced at Levin. He didn’t drive this car so much — he drove an ordinary 356.”

A life with cars

As our photographer gets to work, Trevor used the time to reminisce. “At EMD [European Motor Distributors] I represented Porsche, Audi, VW, Rolls-Royce,  Bentley, and Aston Martin, which gave me variety. But I started out in 1947 with Austin. “I left school the day the polio epidemic closed the school. I went home to lunch and my dad, Vic, said okay, you’d better go to work. So after lunch I did, I went to work pumping petrol at Hudson Burnham, the Austin agency. “I’ve got a lovely photo of a 1929 Austin I owned.”

Trevor had never owned a Porsche before this one — though of course he drove them when he started as managing director of EMD in 1980. Then Ray Barker, a loyal customer, decided to rearrange the cars in his business and this became available. “We’d indicated an interest, so we bought it to ensure it remained in New Zealand. Though I didn’t do an extended trip in it until that retirement holiday — when we didn’t use the luggage!” Trevor’s referring to the three, custom-made, tartan-lined leather suitcases that fit the rear shelf when seatback’s folded down. But over the years they’ve developed a peculiarly pungent smell. The story of his attempts to get rid of an odour that permeates any clothes packed in the cases would fill several pages in itself.

Drive time

Lid up, we admire the very tidy engine — and so it should be. “I sent it to the Porsche factory in Germany in ’98, and it was rebuilt. It’s a very complex engine; few people have access to spare parts and no-one in NZ had a great deal of experience with it. Porsche has a department that will work on a classic Porsche for anyone — they have experience on these, but the most experienced man was about to retire, so I had it rebuilt while he was still there. The advantage of sending it there was that any part they don’t have they can manufacture; there’s no mystery to it for them, no learning process.” The earlier 1600 cars had pushrod engines, where this one’s a four-cam with a significantly higher power output. With the photographer finally finished, it was time to go for a drive.

The first thing to strike one is how spacious the 356 feels inside, despite its small size. There’s no big transmission tunnel; none of the acres of moulded plastic and flim-flam of modern cars. Then, too, the pale beige carpet and the pale roof lining make the surfaces pull back, as well as providing a beautiful foil for the red leather.

We’re doing photography passes when Trevor says, “Fast enough for you? I can go faster if you like!” as he puts his foot down and the little car lifts to his urge. It’s hard to believe the engine’s just 1.6 litres. I grab the door handle as Trevor lines it up; it’s doing 4500rpm — the red-line’s not until 6000 — but the tyres are squealing and Trevor’s grinning; “It hangs on well for an old car!” he says, “the tail’s not coming round — though it wouldn’t hurt, as it happens! It gives good feel of what’s happening and it’s easy to correct.” Turning around he graunches into first, and I say I’m happy to hear it as I won’t feel so guilty if I do the same — at which I get an ungentlemanly elbow in the ribs.

Trevor’s such a keen driver I ask if he’s ever taken it round a race track; “Only a reliability run, and I didn’t estimate my time too accurately. I don’t think I’d risk it, because of its scarcity value.” Nevertheless he’s risking me driving it. There’s no power steering — “I keep the tyre pressures up a little and it’s no problem with the engine in the rear,” — and there’s no synchro except in third to fourth. No power brakes either, so Trevor prepares me to exert more force than I’m used to. It’s almost like that first Porsche drive — but this time it’s Trevor in the car, though he’s just as over-confident as Brian. I’m parked only a centimetre or two in front of another car, yet he’s not worried I’ll roll back.

And in fact the clutch action is quite light and there’s excellent feel — pickup is smooth and I’m rolling forward almost before I’ve had time to worry about stuffing it up. Trevor tells me which gear to be in, and reminds me how to deal with the changes from first to second to third; I’m a bit awkward with them, being spoiled by more modern gearboxes. But the engine’s so tractable it doesn’t seem to mind the dummy behind the wheel, and we’re soon tooling along the seafront. The steering wheel feels huge, but it’s easy to use; there’s good feel and the car’s beautifully neutral on the road. Even the clutch and gear action feels natural when I stop worrying about it. You can see why Trevor often hops in for quite brief errands.

Is he planning any more big trips with the car? “We’ve been invited to a special event to mark 50 years of the Porsche Carrera. It’s in Melbourne in November, and we’ll follow it with a nine-day tour of Tasmania. Only eight NZ cars have been selected, and this is one of them.”

What about a new one?” I’d like to try a 911, the model that replaced the 356 in the 1960s,” he says, “but the problem is I’ve got a classic car that’s so user friendly. You can hop in and just drive; there’s no mystery about it. And I love it.”

1958 Porsche 356 Carrera

Engine: Horizontally opposed, rear-mounted, air-cooled, four-cam four
Capacity: 1587.5cc
Max power: 78kW at 6500rpm
Max torque: 120Nm at 5000rpm
Transmisison: Four-speed manual
Rear axle ratio: 7:32
Body/chassis: Welded pressed steel box frame, one piece with body
Valves: Two valves per cylinder
C/R: 9.5:1
Bore/stroke: 87.5 x 66mm
Suspension: Font: Longitudinal trailing arms with two transverse, square torsion bars and anti roll bar, telescopic double-acting shock. Ford Cortina uprights absorbers Rear: Swinging half axles, radius arm guided, one torsion bar each side, telescopic double-acting shock absorbers
Steering: ZF worm gear
Brakes (F/R): Drum/drum
Wheels: Perforated disc wheels
Tyres: Michelin XZX 165SR15

DIMENSIONS

Length: 3950mm
Width: 1670mm
Wheelbase: 2100mm
Track F/R: 1306/1272mm
Height: 1310mm
Dry weight: 920kg

PERFORMANCE

0-60mph: 11.6 secs
Max speed: 200kph
Economy: 9.6l/100km

The Siding, Winnaleah, St Mary’s Pass: names that conjure images of speed and daring; iconic cars tackling iconic roads on Targa Tasmania. Cars like Porsche’s 911; drivers like the great Jim Richards — who’s won seven Targas in the event’s 13-year history. So what better way to test this latest generation 911 than to throw it over these roads on the way to keeping an appointment with Jim himself at Baskerville Raceway near Hobart?

Some accused the outgoing 911 of selling out. Water, not air-cooled, it was deemed too easy for mere mortals to drive. Porsche could have stuck by its guns, building automotive animals only the fortunate few could tame. It would have closed its doors bloody, but unbowed — an exhilarating footnote to history.
Instead, it built the Boxster; the Cayenne and a more accessible, but no less exhilarating 911.

The improvements have been legion, obtained through painstaking attention to detail rather than sweeping changes. The car’s a bit stiffer, a touch wider and the steering’s slightly more direct. The least immediately obvious addition is the hydrophobic glass on the side windows — water just slides off. The most obvious? The choice of two engines — the 3.6-litre six, joined by a 3.8.

I ease into the drive with the 239kW base engine doing its stuff behind me. More refined the car may be — less likely to lead with its tail perhaps. But I’m still gloriously aware that the rear wheels are out to party, a flick of the hips slinging the car round corners, weight down low as tyres cling and the engine slings me forward, engine sounds bouncing off rocky walls as we pass. Where previous generations were tail-happy, here that rear-engine, rear-drive format just sharpens the handling edge, the barrage of electronic aids only cutting in at the point of terminal embarrassment.

Touching the coast, we pass through St Helen’s towards St Mary’s Pass. I’ve swapped to the 3.8 in six-speed manual form with its 261kW and the promise of 0-100 in 4.8 seconds. Third offers the cream of the torque at just over 100. I’m playing footsie with the throttle as the car dances through the roller-coaster road, climbing into snow. There’s a squawk from the radio as the leading car skids — the snow’s frozen, but Porsche’s Stability management (PSM) catches the slide.

You expect superlative road-craft from the car. Sure, the optional sports suspension that lowers the car 20mm hardens ride considerably. But the standard version balances performance with comfort and the PASM active damper control available on the 2S goes further. ‘Normal’ is comfy without being too soft; sporting tightens the whole set-up to a degree few will have the skill to fully appreciate.

Even fewer will test the limits if they’ve added the Sports Chrono package. Use it to hone the already razor-sharp throttle control; turn up the heat on the stability management; alter the shift pattern of the Tiptronic and use it to monitor lap times. Once at Baskerville, I studied the graphs of Jim’s laps to mine, but they weren’t on the same planet. He barely seemed to be concentrating, too busy telling me how much he enjoys this magazine when he visits New Zealand.

At least my times were better in the car fitted with the $18,000 ceramic brake option. A 911 is no slouch in the stopping department — but these ceramic babies are something else, and they cut unsprung weight just sufficiently to crispen turn-in response. Walther Rohrl took a standard Carrera 2 round Nordschliefe in 8.15 minutes. An S with PASM in neutral in 8.05, and with ‘active’ selected in 8.02. Then he opted for Sport Chrono’s magic and blitzed it in 7.59.

A better 911 might have seemed a pipe dream. But it’s here.

Specifications: Porsche 911-997

Engine: Rear-mounted, water-cooled, six-cylinder Boxer engine
Capacity: Carrera 2, 3596cc; 2S, 3824cc
Max Power: Carrera 2, 239kW @ 6800rpm; 2S, 261kW @ 6600
Max Torque: Carrera 2, 370Nm at 4250rpm; 2S, 400 at 4600rpm
Bore/stroke: Carrera 2, 96/82.8mm; 2S, 99/92.8mm
C/R: Carrera 2, 11.3:1; 2S, 11.8:1
Transmission: Carrera 2, six-speed manual; 2S, six-speed manual with X-Tend clutch (five-speed Tiptronic auto optional)
Tyres/Wheels: F/R; Carrera 2, 235/40ZR18/265/40ZR18; 2S, 235/35ZR19/295/30ZR19
Suspension: Front: MacPherson strut, rear multi-arm independent suspension on five arms (both with active control on 2S)
Brakes: Ventilated cross-drilled brakes, ABS, ABD

DIMENSIONS

Lenght/width: Carrera 2, 4427/1808; 2S, 4427/1808
Height/WB: Carrera 2, 1310/2350mm; 2S, 1300/2350mm
Track F/R: Carrera 2, 1486/1529mm; 2S, 1486/1511mm
Unladen weight: Carrera 2, 1395kg; 2S, 1420kg

PERFORMANCE

0-100kph: Carrera 2, 5.0; 2S, 4.8
Economy: Carrera 2, 11.0; 2S, 11.5
NZ Price: Carrera 2 $208,000; 2S $236,000 (Tiptronic add $8000)