The Mallory paddock looks little different today – save for the absence of Formula 1 transporters. François Cevert was present to demonstrate a Tyrrell 006, part of a Ford Sport Day race meeting that also included the ninth round of the BRSCC/MCD Lombard North Central F3 Championship. The F3 cars of Val Musetti (Royale RP11, #10) and Richard Robarts (March 733, #18) are prominent.
McLaren pit, with Alain Prost’s MP4-2B closest
Niki Lauda’s ’84 MP4-2 on show, with TV-unfriendly tobacco decalsKeke Rosberg’s pole-sitting FW10 (Frank Williams in background)Patrick Tambay tries Sinclair C5, goes off in RE60B, abortsAndrea de Cesaris’s Ligier JS25Teo Fabi’s Toleman TG185; Ayrton Senna’s Lotus 97T
You were there
Remember when the F1 pits and paddock were more easily accessible to the public? That was the case for John Pearse at Silverstone in 1985
Send us your images
If you have any photographs that might be suitable for You Were There, please send them to: Motor Sport, 18-20 Rosemont Road, London, NW3 6NE or e-mail them to: editorial@motorsportmagazine.co.uk
CMC – Classic Model Cars – is a German/Chinese manufacturer that has produced exquisite high-end miniatures in metal and resin since 1995. It produces 1:12 and 1:18 models, covering roughly the period of the 1930s to the 1960s, plus a smattering of 2003 Mercedes-Benz SLR McLarens. My introduction to its models came about at the Nuremberg Toy Fair. I literally did a double-take, my eye caught by its 1:18 model of the 1936-37 Auto-Union Type C. At this year’s Toy Fair, as every year since, I was drawn to CMC to take a look at its new releases – and they didn’t disappoint. The Lancia D50 was this year’s big news and the company is justifiably proud of it.
CMC’s Lancia D50 model uses mixed materials in its construction, with an impeccable body cast from thin-walled zinc, real wire wheels with aluminium rims and steel spokes, synthetic rubber tyres and moulded detail parts.
With large-scale diecast bodyshells we can occasionally see over-thick paint along shut-lines and panel edges, but there’s none of that here. The pannier tanks sport prominent rivets along their flanks and some model manufacturers would be tempted to mould these integrally with the main component. That’s not how CMC works, though; here, the tank castings are pre-drilled and each rivet and separate flange is inserted by hand (using tweezers, naturally) with a result that is far more realistic than the ‘all in one’ approach. The same intense attention to detail is applied across the whole model and, while it’s not a quick process, it is the only way to achieve a result that stands up to close scrutiny. The Lancia D50 is not cheap, at about £500, but as that age-old phrase goes, you get what you pay for. In this case, you get an exquisite, hand-made model that’s ripe with detail. www.cmc-modelcars.de
Hot new kits on release and on the way
Aoshima 1:24 Liberty Walk Nissan R35 GT-RVer.1 £30
Yes, these are real Porsche panels, and no, they haven’t come straight off the race track. They are the work of Jean-Denis Claessens and ‘Pogo’ Thonnard who collaborate as ‘After the Race’ – which sums up the idea. Car panels beautifully painted in race liveries – and then scuffed, messed and muddied as if they’ve been through 24 hours at Spa.
Jean-Denis is a car fan who has raced, rallied and goes to many big events, but he had to educate Pogo who is a street artist, stage designer and rock singer. “I took him to the Nürburgring 24 Hours to learn about the rubber, the oil, the scars a car picks up in a race,” says Jean-Denis, who is inspired by the art cars that have run at Le Mans.
“We find used panels,” he continues, “as they already have a life, some soul.” Then they reproduce a paint scheme from a particular event: Jean-Denis, a graphic artist, hand-cuts stencils for logos and they paint with spray cans. Finally they apply the muck. Which is? “We use engine oil from Porsche 911s, real mud I bring from rallies and other things. It’s kind of a secret. But we go crazy trying things. It’s all about showing the speed.”
As a cheaper option they also work on lightweight GRP Porsche panels, and recently added simple boards with F1 liveries. “It’s kind of hard to find F1 panels,” JD grins. “And these are easier to hang than a whole bonnet.”
Especially if it’s an Aston DBR9 item, a commission they had to engineer from a plain DB9, including fabricating the scoops and swoops. Make sure your wall is strong. www.aftertherace.be
This is partly a photographic reference work, partly a season-by-season guide to chassis evolution during one of the most distinctive decades in the sport’s history: turbines, six wheels, turbos, ground-effect aero, radial slicks, the Brabham BT46B fan car…
The source material lends itself particularly well to a book such as this – and all chassis are pictured in every livery in which they appeared. All shots have been collated from LAT – and given the time of their creation, repro quality is exceptionally good.
Most of us will be familiar with images of Ronnie Peterson defying the laws of physics in a Lotus 72, but the real delights are recalling some of the short-lived deals and one-offs – Mark Donohue’s McLaren M19 (Mosport Park 1971), Skip Barber’s March 711 (Watkins Glen ’72), Gérard Larrousse’s Brabham BT42 (Zolder ’74), Eppie Wietzes’ BT42 (Mosport ’74) and so on.
If you attempted to reproduce a book like this about the current era, it would be a great deal thinner – and have a fraction of the visual appeal.
SA
Published by Evro, ISBN: 978-1-910505-22-9, £50
Donald Healey’s 8C Triumph Dolomite
Jonathan Wood
Jonathan Wood is well versed in the arcane side of motoring history, with a major book on the rare Squire already in his portfolio. This new work comprehensively brings us the tale of another product of one man’s mind – the stillborn 1934 Triumph Dolomite 8C, brainchild of Donald Healey.
With only two and a half built it doesn’t sound fertile ground, but Wood’s story of how and why Healey chose virtually to copy the finest car around, Alfa Romeo’s 8C 2.3, and what Alfa thought about it is riveting. He puts right the lawsuit rumour, illustrating with copious correspondence, press reports, brochures and drawings the genesis of would have been one of the great British sports cars – possibly called the Triumph-Alfa.
Embracing Healey’s entries on the Monte, the complex post-war rebuilds and racing story of the two survivors, plus generous photos of both at all stages, Wood’s account is a triumph – sorry – of research with huge amounts of previously unseen material. Published by the two owners, it’s an informative pleasure to look at and to read.
GC
Published by Turner Whitworth£75/Limited edition £150
Porsche 930 to 935
John Starkey
Thorough. That’d be Porsche 930 to 935, the turbo Porsches in a word. Not only does it turn back the history books right the way to the first turbochargers (“1905 to be precise”), the forced induction ships and World War II ’planes, but it recounts every single outing of every chassis. That includes the numerous privately prepared and developed cars – and doubles the book’s length…
So it’s the first 150-odd pages that will have more interest to most than the final 150.
It took Porsche six years to mate a 911 with a turbo, then another half-decade or so to make a success of it thanks in no small part to the work of the 917. Porsche’s 930 thus has a fascinating racing history, let alone its road-going heritage. From the RSR Turbo through the 934 to the huge Moby Dick and out again to Le Mans-winning 935, there’s a lot of story to tell.
But this is more a regimented tour of the many and varied technical details, all covered in eye-glazing detail. There’s a lack of colour – in photo and writing – but that isn’t the point. This is more a detailed document that celebrates a few Porsche icons.
JP
Published by Veloce
ISBN: 978-1-787112-46-9, £50
Rule Britannia
When British sports cars saved a nation
John Nikas
It’s hard to recall that this country once had a major car industry made up of British owned brands but as this book by a life-long Anglophile relates it was one of the pillars which propped up a bankrupt country after WWII.
‘Export or die’ was the cry, and it was no empty threat: so vital were exports that for years you couldn’t buy a new car here, and if the Yanks weren’t that keen on Austin A30s, they loved Austin-Healeys, Jaguar, MGs, Aston Martins and the rest of our sports car offerings.
Each marque gets a section here, with handsome photography, although much of the background is available in other marque histories; thus the meat of the book really lies in the multiple prefaces and epilogue, which cogently analyse how crucial these flag-wavers were – and what a mess we made of our own industry.
GC
ISBN 978-0-9882733-8-2
Coachbuilt Press, £75
Guy Martin
Road Racer
Stephen Davison
Belfast-based Stephen Davison is no stranger to this page – and there’s a good reason for that.
He has specialised in road racing photography for more than 25 years and is widely regarded as the master of his craft. His latest work ties in with the retirement – confirmed last summer, though liable to change given the subject’s capacity for whimsy – of Guy Martin, who in reality is only partly a road racer as his CV also embraces a lengthy career as a truck mechanic and a modicum of TV work…
Davison’s archive covers the full breadth of Martin’s career, from his race debut at Olivers Mount in 2003 through to a difficult swansong with Honda. And the images, whether candid or action, are uniformly superb.
Within the world of high horology, it is a pointed insult to use the term “fashion watch”.
There are ever-growing hordes of people who look at the ancient craft of watchmaking with near-religious reverence, and they do not like anybody to associate the object of their affection with the kind of gaudy watch you buy at the airport for a tenner.
This is always a consideration for fashion houses if they decide to diversify into watches. They are known for fashion, and this can raise eyebrows among the sort of people who believe that certain watch brands must only be discussed in a very serious tone of voice.
Two things make life easier for Hermès. Firstly, the grand old Parisian dame has such a strong reputation in its core business that you wouldn’t dare suggest it might consider cutting corners. Secondly, Hermès may be best known to Motor Sport readers as a maker of rather splendid scarves, but the company also has a fair bit of previous with watches.
The Hermès flagship in rue du Faubourg Saint-Honoré has a history of retailing and co-branding partnerships with the likes of Jaeger-LeCoultre, Vacheron Constantin and Universal Genève going back more than a century. In 2013, Hermès collaborated with Jaeger-LeCoultre to make the Atmos clock, a beautiful creation kept in perpetual motion by changes in atmospheric pressure.
For the last 40 years Hermès has also been making its own watches. It has chosen to make the most of its heritage, a noteworthy early contribution being a double-wraparound strap created by fashion designer Martin Margiela. The watch pictured came from the pen of furniture designer/architect Marc Berthier.
The Hermès Carré H first appeared in 2010. The new version for this year has a slightly larger case, which actually gives a significantly different feel. It is one of the most handsome watches to have been released this year. And it is not just about looks. For the first time the Carré H is powered by a fully in-house movement. So it is a watch from a fashion house, but is definitely not a “fashion watch”.
The Hermès Carré H has a 38mm steel case and an in-house automatic movement with a 50-hour power reserve. £5625, hermes.com
A. Lange & Söhne Saxonia Outsize Date
A. LANGE & SÖHNE
The sense of restored pride in German watchmaking is clear from everyone that works for Lange & Söhne. They are still mourning the death of Walter Lange, who died last year aged 92. The great-grandson of Ferdinand Adolph Lange, who founded the company in 1845, Walter was responsible for relaunching the company after a 40-year Cold War timeout. Its Saxonia Outsize Date has an automatic movement within a 38.5mm case in white or pink gold. €24,500,www.alange-soehne.com
Cartier Santos
CARTIER
In terms of bragging rights, the story of the Cartier Santos is hard to beat. Pocket watches had been strapped to wrists before, and wrist-worn ladies’ jewellery had carried watches before, but the Santos was the first proper wristwatch made in any numbers. It was created in 1904 so that aviation pioneer Alberto Santos-Dumont could check the time without taking his hands off the controls. This design of this watch remains recognisable to this day, complete with utilitarian rivets around the bezel. From £5500,www.cartier.com
Porsche Club GB has joined forces with Motor Sport to celebrate the club’s 70th anniversary at this year’s Hall of Fame awards.
The only official Porsche Club operating in the UK, and with a membership of more than 20,000, PCGB belongs to the worldwide community of Porsche Clubs recognised by Porsche AG, Stuttgart. It has joined forces with Motor Sport to work together on a host of initiatives – including providing cars for June’s Hall of Fame.
In addition, Porsche-owning Motor Sport readers are invited to participate in Porsche Club’s Donington Park trackday on Tuesday, July 24, where they will enjoy the Porsche Club’s preferential member rate.
The Club has successfully run a programme of Porsche trackdays for the past 20 years. In that time it has organised approximately 350 days, offering almost 12,000 driver places. The days are organised at approved race circuits so that Porsche owners can get the most from their cars in a safe, controlled environment.
Above all, they provide an opportunity for owners to have fun and enjoy their cars at a speed they find comfortable. To book your place on the Donington Park trackday, please call the Porsche Club motor sport team directly on 01608 652911.
Tickets for the Hall for Fame Awards are also available, so enthusiasts can join their heroes at the elegant country estate for this unforgettable evening of champagne and a gourmet three-course dinner. Previous stars to have enjoyed its unique atmosphere include Sir Jackie Stewart, Nigel Mansell, Alain Prost, Murray Walker and Tom Kristensen.
To take your place alongside the greats at this glittering ceremony, and to vote for your favourite in each of the five categories, visit the site below.
Your admirable pair of articles ‘From Russia with cash’ and ‘Winds of change at Williams’ (Motor Sport website) make the point about the long-term ownership of the team.
Virginia Williams’s book reminds us all that FW sold out to a Canadian billionaire before. Didn’t end well!
Nicholas Binns, Wirksworth, Derbyshire
Sharp practice?
Regarding the story on the Porsche 956/962, Nigel Rees fails to mention that the only reason Porsche won the 1982 Group C championship is because they added points from a totally unrelated Porsche 930 wrongly stuck in the P class in one of the races, to beat the French Rondeau-Cosworth team. For many of us, Porsche acted improperly there by ‘fishing’ these points, and it is a sore subject, as I was the Rondeau agent in the USA. (Not for long: Jean Rondeau was not the nicest person to deal with and had a very bad temper.)
Not to demean the 956 – a great car, superior in all respects to the one built by a team of amateurs in Le Mans. But fair is fair, and Porsche acted improperly.
Regarding Gordon Cruickshank’s always entertaining pages, it was not in a Ferrari 275 GTB that the short Lelouch film, C’etait un rendezvous was shot, but from the cockpit of a Mercedes-Benz 450SEL 6.9. This has been well documented. Only the soundtrack was manipulated to sound like there were four more pots.
Philippe de Lespinay, Newport Beach, California, USA
Decadent decade
I can but agree with Colin Goodwin on his choice of 1985 as the greatest year in motor sport. Having been to my first motor race at Mallory Park aged 11 in 1965, bought my first Motor Sport in 1966 (and every one since), seen my first rally in 1969 and competed from the mid-80s until 2014, 1985 remains the standout year.
I was lucky enough to be at Club Corner for Keke Rosberg’s 160mph qualifying lap and sneaked onto the pre-chicane Mulsanne to see the Lancias and 962s.
But the over-riding memory of that incredible year was the sheer culture shock of standing within inches of the S1 Quattro Sports. Group B cars had to be banned, but what a memory for those of us lucky enough to have been there.
Martin Shaw, by e-mail
Cub reporter
I memorably encountered Stirling Moss in 1953 when as a motor sport-mad 14-year-old I wrote to him asking for an interview. Not having mentioned my age the great man and his manager Ken Gregory must have been startled when the reporter turned up in his school uniform. But Stirling answered all my naive questions with every sign of taking me seriously and he has remained a hero of mine ever since. When I sent my hopeless report to the Kent & Sussex Courier they ran only a brief piece headlined ‘Sevenoaks Schoolboy Meets Famous Racing Driver’. It was years later that I came to experience the special thrill of encountering him, even briefly, on the track and he will remain for me the best of the best.
Frank Barnard, Shapwick, Somerset
In, out, don’t shake it about
Our country is polarised by Brexit and this is no doubt reflected across the Motor Sport readership. Mr Nye is entitled to his views, but Motor Sport is not the platform for them.
The happenings in Monte Carlo over 50 years ago are nothing to do with Brexit and should not be tenuously linked to it now. Whilst the Minis were entered by an English team, their drivers were not English. The exclusion from the results may not necessarily be down to simple Anglo/French (and I mean English, not our other British nations) xenophobia. The French wanted a French car and driver to win. Had the Minis been German, Italian, or from any other country would we have had the same scenario? Possibly, but we will never know.
By all means mention politics if it is relevant to our sport, cars, or motoring and how they affect us. Otherwise please keep political comment out of Motor Sport.
Anthony Schofield, Newton, Mumbles
Behind every great man…
I too was sad to learn of the passing of Bette Hill. I was involved in motor racing circuit support whilst working for an oil additive company in the mid-60s to mid-70s and I have several memories of the Hill family during that time. At the final race meeting at the Crystal Palace circuit. Graham squeaked onto the F2 grid at the last minute only to be involved in a shunt which left a large tyre mark on the side of his helmet. My abiding memory is of Bette storming through the pits swinging the helmet trying to locate the culprit, presumably to quietly remonstrate with him!
Another memory was at Brands Hatch during one of the first races after Graham returned to racing from the crash which broke his legs. My son Nick went into the toilet block only to see Graham sitting in a cubicle with his pants up and the door open. He told my son that he was having a rest as he had been jostled walking through the Paddock. Everyone wanted to talk to him or get his autograph.
Bette was a beautiful, clever and infinitely likeable person who will be sadly missed.
James Meacham. West Sussex.
High-octane Motor Sport
Getting together some photographs I took during my drive in a Mini Countryman from England to Pakistan and then on to Australia in 1963, I found this photo, taken in Iran. I thought you might like to see that Motor Sport magazine was put to good use on this trip. Please look carefully at the ‘funnel’ for the petrol top-up.
Bruce Rix, by e-mail
Risk – and reward
I thoroughly enjoyed the article on the ’80s, and I’m sure like many people, we all have our favourite years and decades…
My decade is the 1970s, chosen because you could still go to Montjuich Park in Barcelona for the GP, Zandvoort pre-chicanes and James winning for Hesketh, Monza at the Lesmos pre-chicane, Nürburgring with not a sign of debris fencing, just wooden waist-high barriers with unimpeded views, standing in fields at the Masta Kink, with just a barbed wire fence in front and Alfas, Porsches and BMWs coming through nearly flat, Mulsanne straight behind straw bales and double-layer Armco at 200mph, and the cafe conveniently directly behind, not to mention Rouen and Brno, ultimate unspoiled road tracks. We thought these things would never come to an end, and it makes me thankful that I was just lucky enough to go when I did. It was the end of an era.
Things like pre-season F1 Internationals at Brands and Silverstone we took for granted, and again I was fortunate enough to see the 917s at Le Mans in 1971 for the last time – not forgetting the uninterrupted scream of the Matra all the way down the Mulsanne in the dead of night. Wonderful memories, all. Some things just don’t always change for the better…
Julian Nowell, Walton-on-Thames
Mini mistake
Paddy Hopkirk may indeed be “England’s best-loved rally driver” (Race Retro Preview, March), but his native Northern Ireland is no doubt proud of him, too.
John Clegg, Chadderton, Oldham
Group C look-see
I was fascinated to read Nigel Rees’s technical perspective of the Porsche 956/962 and Jaguar XJR-6–9 Group C cars in the February issue, having seen these cars on debut, and many times at Le Mans during period.
Certainly, the first impressions of the new Group C Formula were somewhat dispiriting when spectating at the Silverstone 6 Hours race in April 1982, where the new works Porsche 956 blitzed the field to secure Pole position, and then conspired to chug round the circuit behind the tiny Lancia LC1 ‘Barchetta’, the Italian manufacturer having stuck up a rather impolite two fingers to the new Manufacturers Championship by running a Group 6 car that did not have to apply the new fuel restrictions, but could still compete for race wins and the Driver’s Championship.
It became quite noticeable, after a period of time, that the private 956 entrants, Richard Lloyd Racing in particular, knew more about aerodynamics than Porsche themselves, being able to develop the bodywork and beat the works cars on occasion, although the works cars always had the advantage of engine management upgrades; I think full credit must be given to Porsche for allowing their private teams to be able to compete with them on this basis, although I very much doubt it would be allowed today.
One flaw in the Porsche 956/962 was its fondness for throwing a wheel; it happened so often that it almost became a standing-joke about how fast the Porsche was on three wheels, let alone four, although somewhat dangerous in retrospect, especially at Le Mans given the speed of cars.
I would be interested to know if Nigel Rees could give an explanation for this phenomenon,
Neil Kirby, Brentwood, Essex
He was there too
The photos in the March You Were There must have been taken by Paul Meiss during practice – the race itself took place in varying weather conditions with scattered showers, which laid the foundation for Moss’ splendid victory in Rob Walker’s underdog Lotus. Ferrari was granted a strange extra practice at 7am on Sunday morning when it was still dry.
Mr Meis was possibly standing beside me when I took this picture (above) with my Zeiss Ikon Contax, which unfortunately was stolen during the Spanish GP in Barcelona in 1973.
Hartmut Lehbrink, Schalkenbach, Germany
Further letters and images may appear in our digital edition only. Please include your full name and address when corresponding
“When I wrote my last book I said it was my last book. Well, this one is definitely my last one. Although there is just one in the pipeline…”
That was Jonathan Wood, award-winning author of 35 previous works, on the launch of his magnum opus on the rarest of rarities, the Triumph Dolomite. No, as I’m sure Jonathan is by now tired of explaining, not the four-seater family box that in Sprint form livened the British race and rally scene in the 1970s. Nor the uninspiring late Thirties saloon that tried to glamorise its merely adequate underpinnings behind a fancy grille and a foreign name.
No, we are (or at least Jonathan is) talking about one of the most gloriously doomed projects, commercially speaking, that ever soaked up money to no effect – the Dolomite Straight Eight conceived and developed by Donald Healey when technical manager at the Coventry firm. Only two were ever completed, and in January both arrived at the RAC club in London to herald the book – their first public appearance together since they were assembled at Triumph’s works in 1934.
It’s an amazing tale, not because it was a glorious conceit that evaporated in a puff of market reality – there have been plenty of those over the years, including the subject of Jonathan’s previous ‘last’ book, the Squire. Again one man’s conception, quality placed high above viability – result, a mere seven desperately costly cars made before Companies House recorded another sad winding up.
The Dolomite differed because of Healey’s completely open borrowing of another designer’s work. His supercharged 2-litre engine was identical in form to Vittorio Jano’s straight-eight Alfa Romeo 2300 motor, then the most sophisticated and successful power unit on the racing scene – not an absolute copy as parts weren’t interchangeable, but clearly a illustration of the adage that if you’re going to copy, copy the best. So Triumph’s people took apart an 8C to look at the works. Even the in-house body was reminiscent of the Touring coachwork many an 8C 2.3 wore. Seemingly Alfa-Romeo was flattered, not annoyed (in any case it had just stopped making 2.3s), and Healey briefly suggested calling it the Triumph-Alfa though that would have taken the wind from the ‘It’s British!’ flag the home crew and UK press wanted it to sail under. In fact, Wood Informed me at the launch, only Motor Sport pointed out the similarity at the time.
In the end it was never going to fly and in 1935, a bad year for Triumph, production plans died. Just three chassis were built, which by a convoluted route well described in Jonathan’s book have crystallised into the pair of magnificent machines we are all admiring in the Pall Mall clubhouse. And by a quirk of kismet these rare birds have come to roost only a mile apart, in Yorkshire – owners Tim Whitworth and Jonathan Turner, both present with their charges, are practically neighbours.
It was Turner, CEO of oil company Bayford Group and an arch enthusiast who frequently drives his cars on long-distance classic rallies, who triggered both of Wood’s recent works, as the author explained. Having acquired a Squire, Turner also purchased Wood’s extensive archive – and then along with three other Squire owners, commissioned him to do the book. He continued the pattern by purchasing the Triumph and then suggesting Wood write a Dolomite history.
“I said, won’t that be a bit dull? There are only two of them…” smiled the author. It’s not. There’s more than enough in the story to keep it rolling; the photo of what happened when Healey took one car on the 1935 Monte Carlo Rally and had an argument with a Danish train tells a drama in itself. That is now Turner’s car, and rare as it is he doesn’t baby it: he’s tackled the Flying Scotsman rally in it and raced it in the Brooklands Trophy at Goodwood.
“Goes like the clappers and corners on rails!” says the always exuberant collector. I’ve seen him described elsewhere as “swashbuckling entrepreneur” – not far wrong for someone who flies from Yorkshire to his lochside Scottish holiday home by seaplane, touching down by his own front door.
Turner had his car restored at Blakeney-Edwards Motorsports, and Patrick B-E was here too, telling me about the job and how they added stylistic tweaks such as the chrome side-sweep and vestigial fin to the 1930s Corsica body to reinforce a Touring flavour. Some say the British chassis improved on the Italian, and Patrick, who often shares Turner’s cars in competition, confirms its terrific handling.
The second car was restored in the 1980s by erstwhile restorer and racer Tony Merrick, and it was good to meet him again at the launch, inspecting his work. Faced with worn-out Corsica bodywork, Merrick replicated the original Triumph body – interesting to see the cycle-mudguard British take on flowing-winged Italian style. Choice? I’d be thrilled to find either in my Christmas stocking.
I also met Donald Healey’s grandson Peter, who recalled his grandfather reminiscing about serving in the Royal Flying Corps aged just 17. He was blown out of the sky by friendly fire, ending his aerial career. Another titbit new to me was that when starting his own firm after WWII Donald didn’t want to name it after himself, but his one-time employer Victor Riley persuaded him it was a good idea. Peter wrote the book’s Foreword.
So now that Wood has told us everything about a seven-car run and a two-car run, where can he go next? About the only thing more abstruse would be a book on the fabulous Viume, invented by graphic fantasist Bruce McCall – tag-line, ‘a car so exclusive that none will be built’.
ALL OF US MUST HAVE DREAMED OF THE perfect car collection and the perfect place to house it, plus somewhere to exercise the cars. Many years ago on a press launch I was bowled over to be taken to a private motoring paradise centred on a beautiful château. And like Le GrandMeaulnes in the classic French novel, I couldn’t remember where it was.
It was in 1986; the car was the new Renault GTA, which had dropped the Alpine part of its patronym so as not to confuse the British public with the Chrysler Alpine. (So easily done – bland FWD Simca-based Euro hatch versus low, sleek, rear-engined GRP sports car.) We toured Alpine’s Dieppe factory, source of the tail-happy A110s which had slid their way to so many rally victories, where I was impressed by the new 2+2’s design – rear subframe carrying complete Renault V6 engine, transaxle and suspension, radiator placed flat in the nose to leave luggage space above – and the construction process – floorpan bonded onto backbone chassis, then complete body sides and roof glued in place like a vast Airfix kit.
For me it was a fine package – eye-grabbing looks, luggage space, plenty of poke in the turbo version. Was it sorted like a 911? Not a hope. Unless you were Jean-Claude Andruet or some other rally hero you were inevitably going to be caught out some wet night when you backed off mid-bend, triggering torque reversal followed by total reversal. But on our launch trip as we headed towards lunch I didn’t push it, especially as I had ex-racer and colourful commentator John Bolster aboard and was concentrating on smoothness so as not to interrupt his flow of stories about racing characters.
Turner (l) and Whitworth with all the Dolomites ever made. Below, not the lost château but our test GTA with ancestor
Then we arrived: what a sight. A classic French château, towering roofs, lake and all. But the real treasure came after lunch – we were escorted to a long stone building with Formula 1 and sports cars racked up the walls, plucked off the shelf when wanted by a giant fork-lift. Ferraris – 312PB, T3, 625, 126; Tyrrell, Williams, Renault RS01, D-type, GT40. Plus – a private racetrack. Short and tight, yes, but somewhere to safely play whenever you wanted. It seemed like heaven to me. Aiming not to damage the nation’s favourite deerstalker wearer – he was happy to let me drive having enjoyed a fine claret at lunch – I didn’t push the whistling turbo GTA on the track, just fantasised about waking up and finding myself the owner of the place.
But where was it? We weren’t told the owner’s identity, and my photos are lost; for years I didn’t know the location, and part of me said that like the narrator of Alain Fournier’s book I should simply keep the château’s image as a mystery, a perfect memory. But when I asked Doug Nye he immediately identified it as the Jacky Setton collection at Château de Wideville, west of Paris. It was disbanded not long after my visit when Setton sold up, and the château is now owned by a fashion designer. On Google Earth I see – sacrilege – an empty grassy field where the track once ran; not everyone’s idea of heaven is the same.
So my romantic memory will remain just that – a memory.
Long-time staffman Gordon Cruickshank learned his trade under Bill Boddy, and competes in historic events in his Jaguar Mk2 and BMW 635
Years ago now, I got bored with merely writing about racing cars. Friends and colleagues derived tremendous enjoyment from covering races, somewhere in the world, every weekend. In contrast I proved too thick to work out how to make that pay – but I did find that great drivers, designers and team principals had much more time to talk mid-week, when back home. So I saw them there…
Ever since I was a tiny kid – well, relatively small – I’ve been totally starstruck by racing cars. Show me a car that somebody raced – no matter whether it’s from 1896 or 1956 or 2006 – and, well, it brightens my day.
I wanted to get hands-on, largely to teach myself more about these wonderful things. I wrote for a Japanese magazine, and one day my editor there asked if I could help a wealthy Tokyo businessman who wanted to collect some racing cars. Whoopee-nerdle. We bought a glorious Alfa Romeo T33 Stradale, a late 1930s Alfa 6C, I commissioned a Lister-Jaguar ‘Knobbly’ to be assembled from largely original parts including a real chassis – and we bought the ex-Graham Hill Lotus 49, now at Beaulieu. It lived in my corrugated-iron garage for 18 months while I painstakingly dismantled and stripped it. Short of you know what, unthinkable even on the Surrey/Hampshire border, one could not have developed a more intimate knowledge of that wonderful car.
Around the same time I got to know auctioneer Robert Brooks. Like-minded, we gelled and have worked together ever since, right through to the modern Bonhams auction house, handling hundreds of great cars, and again I got to explore and handle – and sometimes drive – the major ones among them…
Now we have been asked to offer Ayrton Senna’s 1993 Monaco GP-winning McLaren-Ford MP4/8A to the market, back at Monaco this May. Ooh what a bore… spending time searching the McLaren archives – and with the car itself, oh my.
This 25-year-old lady was sitting there, body panelling removed, cable-connected to two contemporary high-tech laptops. Her 3.5-litre Ford HB engine – a relatively simple-for-the-time 75-degree V8 already had warm oil and coolant. Carer Paul Lanzante nodded his head and said to his guys, “Let’s give it a go.” The hand-held starter-motor wand somewhat ingloriously jammed up the gearbox tail, whirred, one second, two seconds, three and WHAAAAAAHHHH! – the V8 fired with a creamy, clean, confidently reassuring blare. Right there the car in which Ayrton had scored his record-breaking sixth and last Monaco GP win burst into renewed life.
I touched the nose of its carbon-composite monocoque fuselage, which was vibrating in sympathy with that roaring V8 engine. My word, she has a pulse. That’s the joy, you see – these things really live. The great Champion driver might be lost to us, but the great Championship cars live on…
Within the F1 world of 1993, McLaren MP4/8A-6 was relatively simple. The Woking team had just lost its then-great engine supplier Honda, and a renewed major partnership with Peugeot (now there was a mistake) would not emerge until 1994. So ’93, with second-string Ford engines, was just an interim year, yet Ayrton would still win five GPs, including Monaco, so the MP4/8’s potential was not too shabby.
Relatively simple though chassis 6 might have been, it still featured active suspension, and later power brakes as well. Its design was by a team led by Neil Oatley while its Henri Durand-devised aerodynamic package performed at best when presented to the airstream upon a stable platform, provided by active suspension. As developed during that year by Pat Fry and Giorgio Ascanelli, the active system continually reset ride-heights and trim automatically while the car was running. They divided the circuits up into a number of sensing segments and by the end of the year the system was so precise it it was sensing and providing ride-height adjustment every five to 10 metres…
Now, however much chief designer Oatley might describe his MP4/8 as having been a relatively simple car, it pushed everywhere against the limit of what contemporary regulations allowed. The Formula 1 car is a bomb upon the brink of exploding. In action it’s a vibrant, incredibly dynamic man-carrying capsule that will challenge any mere human strapped into its seat to explore its outermost performance limits, while still maintaining at least a semblance of control.
That’s what makes these guys special – just to live with the car’s capabilities, to use all it has to offer. From McLaren’s incredibly fine-detailed contemporary data read-outs, chassis 6’s explosive performance around the Monte Carlo street circuit is eye-popping. Just imagine keeping on top of this rampaging street fight…
Approaching Ste Dévote Corner in 1993, Ayrton Senna had MP4/8A-6 reaching a maximum 265kph (164.6mph) in sixth gear, its Ford HB engine screaming – by contemporary standards – at 12,070rpm. His mid-corner Ste Dévote speed was then 90kph (55.9mph), 7048rpm in second gear.
His maximum speed up the long hill towards the Casino was 259kph (160.9mph), 11,827rpm in sixth. He slammed right in front of the Hotel de Paris, 122kph (75.8mph), 7959rpm in third. Down into Mirabeau 213kph (132.3mph), 12,565rpm in fourth. Locking left into the Loews Hairpin, 46kph (28.5mph), 4634rpm, bottom gear, and then up and away through the curving tunnel, reaching 277kph (172.1mph), 12,636rpm in sixth.
Through the quayside chicane 63.0kph (39.1mph), 4922rpm in second gear. After the Tabac turn through the swimming pool complex, 164kph (101.9mph), 9639rpm in fourth. Pitching the car into the right-hand entry to Rascasse, 48kph (29.8mph), 4897rpm, again in first gear. And so back across the timing line and away beyond 160mph again towards Ste Dévote… Conjure 78 repeats to win this Grand Prix for the sixth time.
Now spool forward to check right and proper progress – in 2006 at Monaco, Kimi Räikkönen qualified third in his McLaren-Mercedes MP4/21. Here’s a data-log comparison with Senna’s, 13 years previously.
Before braking for Ste Dévote, Kimi’s 2.4-litre V8 engine hit a maximum 18,051rpm in seventh gear, 272kph (169mph). His mid-corner Ste Dévote speed was 109kph (67.7mph), 14,337rpm in second. Maximum recorded up the long hill was then 286kph (177.7mph), 19,581rpm in eighth. He slammed right in front of the Hotel de Paris, 128kph (79.5mph), 13,968rpm in third. Down into Mirabeau 216kph (134.2mph), 19,596rpm in fifth. Locking left into the hairpin, 44kph (27.3mph), 7056rpm, bottom gear, and then up and away through the tunnel, reaching 284kph (176.5mph), 18,898rpm in seventh.
Through the quayside chicane 61.0kph (37.9mph), 10,170rpm in first gear. After the Tabac turn through the swimming pool complex, 238kph (147.9mph), 19,610rpm in fifth. Pitching the car into the right-hand entry to Rascasse, 53kph (32.9mph), 8550rpm, again in first. And so back across the timing line and again up around 170mph towards Ste Devote…
Back in Monte Carlo two years later, in 2008, Lewis Hamilton’s winning McLaren-Mercedes MP4/23 achieved a spine-tingling 18,915rpm – 276.2kph (171.6mph) – before he backed off and braked for Ste Dévote. His mid-corner speed there was 98.5kph (61.2mph), 12,176rpm.
Maximum towards the Casino was then 271.8kph (168.9mph), 18,978rpm in sixth gear. Hotel de Paris righthander, 135.8kph (84.4mph), 13,700rpm. Down into Mirabeau 219.1kph (136.1mph), 19,108rpm in fourth. Locking left into the hairpin, 42.7kph (26.5mph), 6,194rpm, bottom gear, and then up to 290.5kph (180.5mph), 18,903rpm in seventh, through the tunnel.
In the quayside chicane 69.0kph (42.8mph), 10,261rpm in first gear. After the Tabac turn through the swimming pool complex, 231.4kph (143.8mph), 18,867rpm in fifth. Pitching the car into Rascasse, 53.3kph (33.1mph), 8,184rpm, again in first gear. And so back across the timing line up beyond 170mph towards Ste Dévote again…
Blimey – I always knew these blokes should be locked up.
Doug Nye is the UK’s leading motor racing historian and has been writing authoritatively about the sport since the 1960s
Valentino Rossi will commence his 19th season of premier-class Grand Prix racing in Qatar on 18th March. The Italian won his first world championship, the 1997 125cc title, the month before Max Verstappen was born. You probably already know this is a unique achievement across world-class motor sport.
What you probably don’t know is that Rossi rode his most successful Grand Prix season way back in 2003. It hasn’t exactly been downhill ever since, but the Italian’s second year in the new four-stroke MotoGP class was something very special. He won nine of the 16 races and finished second or third in the other seven, the only time he’s completed every race on the podium.
Rossi undoubtedly rides a motorcycle better today than he did 15 years ago, so how come he has never again ridden such a perfect campaign?
The 24-year-old had everything on his side in 2003. Most importantly, Honda’s sublime RC211V. The company’s 990cc V5 was easily the best bike on the grid: very fast and rider-friendly. Honda had played a clever game during the development stages of the four-stroke category, which in 2002 took over from the 500cc two-strokes. When the factories negotiated the rules, Honda suggested that five-cylinder machines compete under the same minimum weight limit as four-cylinder machines. Rights-holders Dorna and the Fédération Internationale de Motocyclisme naively agreed. Some months later Honda unveiled its RC211V (which translates thus: Racing Cycle, 21st century, model one, vee engine configuration).
A narrow-angled five-cylinder vee design was an inspired choice. A 75.5-degree V4 would produce too much primary vibration, so Honda circumvented this potential problem by adding a suitably timed fifth piston on a central third crankpin. Keeping the vee angle of the block narrow is useful in motorcycle racing because it allows better engine packaging, which helps the chassis engineers do their work with fewer compromises.
Mass centralisation was a key philosophy in the design of the RC211V, which contributed much to the bike’s remarkable handling and steering. Project leader Hejiro Yoshimura wanted his creation to be “easy to manage, like a motocross or trials bike”. I was lucky enough to get a go on Rossi’s RC211V and that’s pretty much what it felt like: a 220-horsepower trials bike.
Rossi and his RC211V dominated the inaugural 2002 MotoGP season, but not quite as much as during the following year, when Honda introduced anti-spin software. “When I tried the traction control for the first time I went back into the pits and I say ‘fuck, noooo’,” he recalls. “I mean, with this system everybody can ride the bike.”
However, good traction control doesn’t make a good racing motorcycle. Rossi made this discovery when he moved to Ducati in 2011, after six years with Yamaha. If his second season on Honda’s RC211V was his best in MotoGP, his first season on Ducati’s Desmosedici was his worst.
In 2003 Rossi averaged 22.31 points at each race. In 2011 his average score slumped to 8.17. (MotoGP awards 25 points for a victory, down to one point for a 15th-place finish.)
During that most dismal of campaigns Rossi made it to the podium just once. Even in his rookie 125cc Grand Prix season, when he was 16 years old, he achieved three podium results. In 2011 he was living through the worst days of his career and he knew it. When he finished a lowly sixth in that year’s soaking wet British GP at Silverstone, more than one minute behind the winner, I was one of only two journalists who turned up for his usually packed post-race debrief. “This is the correct number for my result,” he joked, mustering a little black humour from the bottom of his gloomy heart.
Ducati was in a mess back then. The Desmosedici’s Magneti Marelli rider-control software was probably just about as good as Honda’s and Yamaha’s electronics, but even the best electronics in the world cannot fix a poorly configured engine and chassis.
Ducati’s desmodromic-valve engine was the most powerful on the grid but produced its power in such a way that it overstressed the frame, suspension and tyres. The frame didn’t help either.
The most important aspect of race-bike performance is front-end feel. Without a real understanding of what’s happening where the front tyre meets the racetrack a rider cannot attack corners properly. Rossi could never feel the Desmosedici’s front tyre, so not only was he uncompetitive, he also crashed a lot.
As his results plummeted his accident rate skyrocketed, from his usual four or five tumbles per season to a thumping dozen during 2011. In 2003 he crashed only once: that’s the difference between a motorcycle that allows you to go fast safely and another that won’t allow you to be fast or safe.
“We cannot create enough front grip to stop and turn the bike,” Rossi said at the time. “We don’t understand why or where the problem is, so we cannot fix it. We change the setting, we move the weight forward and backwards, up and down, but the problem always remains. Sometimes we go a little bit faster, sometimes we go a little bit slower, but there is no way to fix this problem.”
Many people expected Rossi to quit after his bitter 2011 and 2012 seasons, but he’s still out there, still dedicating his life to the only thing he really desires: a 10th world championship. There’s little doubt that he will ride as well as ever and he has already revealed that he is on the verge of renewing his contract for 2019, when he will celebrate his 40th birthday.
Mat Oxleyhas covered premier-classmotorcycle racing for many years – and also has the distinction of being an Isle of Man TT winner
