The Nearly Alfa - Part 1

The Alfa Romeo 183T was a ‘nearly car.’  As demonstrated at Spa in 1983, it was good enough to win Grands Prix.  Though it was – as are all racing cars – far from perfect, that its results fell below its potential was more to do with how it was operated rather than in its design/specification.  Key factors that undermined its results included a short window of opportunity.  Crucially, the following season’s limitation on permitted fuel use per race militated against the engine’s inherent consumption characteristics.  Additionally, two races were lost for lead driver, Andrea de Cesaris, because of technical regulations disqualifications.  And  performance was hampered early in the season because of inconsistent availability of the specific turbochargers suited to the Autodelta-developed V8 engine.  And, throughout ’82 and ’83, conflicting political considerations conspired to make it quite an achievement by Autodelta and Euroracing that the car displayed any measure of competitiveness and was present at all 15 Grands Prix.  In explaining the background, the development of the car and how it performed on-track, I need firstly to outline Alfa Romeo’s return to the Formula One scene long after winning the first two World Championships in ‘50/’51. 

Two decades on from its withdrawal from Grand Prix racing, the marque was dabbling as an engines supplier.  Initially this came about through Luciano Bianchi’s interest in fitting a Tipo 33 sport prototype 2.5 litre 105.80 engine to a Cooper F1 chassis.  This project stalled and the engine, in 3.0 litre form, emerged in its primary role as the motive power for the new Tipo 33/3 in February ‘69.  That season saw the return of Andrea De Adamich to the Settimo Milanese-based Autodelta Tipo 33 team after a spell with Ferrari.  Alongside, he had signed to drive in Formula 1 with the McLaren team.  Discussion between Autodelta chief, Carlo Chiti, and De Adamich resulted in the M7D and M14D versions of McLaren’s ‘70 F1 car carrying the 105.80 engine.  Also driven by Nanni Galli, neither car/driver was able to score any World Championship points.  The following season’s March 711 was engineered to accommodate both the Cosworth DFV, or the Alfa V8.  The Alfa powered version was driven mainly by De Adamich and Nanni Galli, though lead driver, Ronnie Peterson, contested the French Grand Prix in it.  As with the McLaren, results were disappointing and no World Championship points were gained.

McLaren-Alfa M14D - De Adamich, Holland, 1970 (Courtesy R Schlegelmilch)

Subsequent development of the Tipo 33 dictated the need for a 12 cylinder 3.0 litre engine, for which Chiti decided upon a 180° V (‘flat’) format.  Motor Racing Developments’ owner, Bernie Ecclestone, became interested in the engine for the team’s F1 Brabham cars.  Brabham designer, Gordon Murray, has said he believes that in a deal struck in ‘74 Ecclestone secured a supply of engines on a free of charge basis.  Unveiled in October ‘75, the BT45 was the first Brabham to be powered by the Tipo 115.12 unit.  Results were not encouraging, the size/weight of the engine and its prolific consumption of fuel proving challenging.  The BT46 was more competitive, thanks to some extent by developments which reduced the consumption.  The ‘78 BT46B was the fabled ‘Fan Car,’ which was victorious in Niki Lauda’s hands on its one and only Grand Prix outing in Sweden.  But the Lotus 78 and 79 changed the game entirely, ushering in the ground effects era.  The chassis architecture required for this – especially in terms of the floor underside and sidepod forms – made a wide engine block undesirable, so Murray prevailed upon Chiti to build a new 60° V12 power unit for the ‘79 season.  Chiti obliged, and the V12 BT48 debuted at the Argentine Grand Prix in January ‘79.  Murray felt that the inconsistency of the new engine’s specification – especially heads/camshafts – and its build quality, was worse than he had seen with the flat 12.  He became increasingly unhappy with the partnership, culminating in a switch to Cosworth DFV power for the final two World Championship rounds.

Brabham BT48, 1979. (Carlo Chiti is standing on the right)

While the Brabham team was wrestling with the BT45, Alfa Romeo President, Ettore Massacesi, gave the go-ahead for the creation of an all-Alfa F1 car.  This was announced to the public early in ‘78 and the first prototype was under testing by the summer.  After a long period in which there had been considerable resistance to such an idea within Arese and at Finmeccanica, (the state-created financial entity which ‘owned’ Alfa Romeo), once a running car could be observed, a wave of exaggerated enthusiasm took over, and an increasing number of internal advocates became besotted with the idea that the car could be debuted at that year’s Italian Grand Prix.  But this plan was scuttled in the wake of a test at the Paul Ricard circuit by Lauda in August.  His opinion was that the car was nowhere near ready for competition and an attempt to race it at Monza would probably result in embarrassment for the team and the corporate management.  So, for the remainder of ‘78, the 177 ran only in test sessions, with the driving shared by Bruno Giacomelli and Vittorio Brambilla.  Not until the following May was it deemed worthy of a race entry – to the Belgian Grand Prix at Zolder.  Giacomelli’s reasonable qualifying performance and race pace prior to a collision-prompted retirement provided encouragement.  The results of further outings were however relatively disappointing, though no surprise to the Autodelta team -  for, as soon as it was operating in the F1 race environment, the team had seen that an updated car with the new V12 engine was required as a matter of urgency.  Chiti - at this time assisted by Robert Choulet - was good at producing new designs and building prototypes within exceptionally short timescales and he did this again, surprising everyone by fielding the first 179 at September’s Italian Grand Prix at Monza.  Giacomelli qualified the new car 18^th and ran well in the race until retirement after a mistake and off-circuit excursion at Ascari.

177 with Bruno Giacomelli in the car and Vittorio Brambilla on the sidepod

Despite a positive start for the 179 in the latter part of the ‘79 season, the viability of the team was questionable as the new year dawned.  With Alfa Romeo’s lack of profitability, the justification for spending on the F1 programme was frequently and vigorously challenged and Massacesi had to be at his most resilient.  His saving grace arrived however in the form of substantial sponsorship funds from Phillip Morris to promote its Marlboro cigarette brand on the cars.  For ‘80 Giacomelli was partnered with Patrick Depailler, Brambilla fulfilling a testing role.  There were good showings at Argentina and Long Beach and at Watkins Glen where Giacomelli was on pole and led the race, but the season was marred by the loss of Depailler, killed while testing at Hockenheim.  For the following season Giacomelli was joined by Mario Andretti, who took 4^th place at Long Beach.  Though the team had a better car in the 179C and D versions, benefitting from input from Gerard Ducarouge, who had joined from Ligier, the only other highlights were Giacomelli’s 4^th and 3^rd at Montreal and Las Vegas, respectively.  1982 saw Andrea de Cesaris replacing Andretti and quickly proving his potential with pole and a spell leading at Long Beach.  Ducarouge’s value was fully confirmed by the superiority of his new car, the 182, in comparison with the 179.  He was assisted in the design of the 182 by Mario Tollentino.  The 177/179/182 era can be summed up as follows: Starts: 99; Wins 0; Podiums 3; Poles: 2; World Championship points – ’79 = 0; ’80 = 4; ’81 = 10; ’82 = 7.

Andrea de Cesaris in the 182 at Monaco, 1982 - classified 3rd 

In July ‘79, While Bruno Giacomelli was struggling to get the 177 round to a 17^th place finish at Dijon, Jean-Pierre Jabouille was taking the chequered flag and celebrating the first Grand Prix victory for a turbocharged car.  His Renault RS10 was a development of the RS01.  That car, pioneering the use of a 1.5 litre turbocharged engine in place of the 3 litre, normally aspirated type, had been first entered to a Grand Prix just two seasons previously.  Thus, another new era was ushered in – the 1.5 litre/turbocharged format would hold sway in the sport’s pinnacle category for the next nine seasons.  Chiti was not slow in recognising the significance of the Renault innovation and began work on a forced induction engine as ‘79 drew to a close.  Given that Jabouille and teammate Rene Arnoux had claimed pole in four of the seven remaining rounds of the ’79 championship, it was no surprise that Chiti was on the task with some urgency, but few would have expected that he’d chose the V8 format.  Many would argue that simplicity of the fundamentals was a key success feature in Formula 1 while forced induction was the source of high power outputs.  This was most obviously demonstrated by the BMW 4 cylinder M12/13, based on the stock M10 which had powered the 2002.  According to some claims, this engine was capable in qualifying tune of generating over 1,200 bhp, enough to power Nelson Piquet’s Brabham BT52 to World Championship victory in ‘83.  Its performance in ‘84 enabled him to record the pole lap at nine of the season’s Grands Prix.  That said, the most obvious configuration for the formula was a V6.  This is what Renault had decided upon for its pioneering EF1 engine.  And it was the layout that featured in the turbocharged engines that were then developed by Ferrari, Honda, Porsche (TAG), Cosworth and Motori-Moderni.  Other than Alfa Romeo and BMW, only Hart tried something different, with its in-line 4.  Considerations of the size and weight of a V6 were seen as highly favourable by designers, especially in regard to packaging within the chassis of the power unit and transmission/ancillaries.
 
Ever since the recognition of the importance of aerodynamics and the exploitation of ground effects and the consequent greater difficulty in close-following/overtaking in Formula 1, designers had been obliged to look for ways in which marginal performance advantages relevant to specific aspects of driveability - aside from out-and-out power – could be created.  A very notable example is the capability of a car to pick up engine and road speed as it exits a slow speed corner.  This became a particular focus of attention given that turbo lag was a negative feature of the cohort of new engines appearing in Formula 1.  Whilst this would be addressed successfully over time by engine management/software developments – and, ultimately, the use of ERS energy in today’s hybrid powertrains – in the early ‘80s the most realistic approach was to optimise the basic responsiveness of the reciprocating componentry.  This was indeed the determining objective which led to Chiti’s decision to pursue a V8 solution.  Crucially, the smaller mass and weight of the pistons/conrods and various rotating parts would allow them to be accelerated more rapidly than those of a six – or four – cylinder engine.  A notable example of the principle’s value would be seen at the ’83 Belgian Grand Prix – as Nigel Roebuck, in observing the race start and reporting for Autosport magazine, wrote: ‘The Italian V8 gets off the line like no other turbocharged car . . .’  Chiti’s confidence in the value of this characteristic was bolstered by his previous personal experience in designing the ATS and Alfa Romeo Tipo 33 V8s.  Additionally, he believed in the basic principle that, all things being equal, a V8 would always have a better ultimate power potential vis-à-vis that of a V6.  Conventional wisdom would balance that with the generally accepted fact that a V6 would have a fuel consumption advantage, and this would be of notable significance in regard to Chiti’s V8.
 
Anyone believing that on a quasi-DNA basis a marque can tend to repetitively manufacture products with distinctive engineering characteristics – good or bad – might well cite the fuel consumption deficiency of Alfa Romeo racing engines as a classic example.  In the late stages of the 158/159 models’ working life, the one thing that might have derailed their run of success was the raging thirst of the supercharged 8 cylinder engine.  Despite needing a gallon of Shell Dynamin for every 1–2 miles covered, the 158 and 159 in ‘50 and ‘51 respectively managed to win 10 of the 15 Grands Prix and the Championship for both seasons.  Not bad, considering that because of the volume of fuel needing to be carried/used, the design and weight of the cars were compromised and significant time was lost on-track for ‘extra’ refuelling stops.  Another example of this weakness was seen in the flat 12 initially developed for the Tipo 33 TT12 and, as recounted above, subsequently deployed in the late ‘70s Brabham F1 cars.  Gordon Murray lamented that whilst the Cosworth-powered cars needed 40 gallon tanks and would do a Grand Prix on 36-37 gallons, a 45 gallon tank was required for the Alfa engine. So when early test running of Chiti’s V8 for the ‘80s - designated ‘890’ – showed that its fuel efficiency would not be a strong point, this was not a dramatic surprise.  Indeed, Chiti himself, in stating that a turbocharged engine of this type/size could be expected to consume 11% more fuel than a normally aspirated unit, was apparently content with the situation, given that in a further comparison of the two engine types, the forced induction example would deliver 16% more power.  His confidence was also probably buoyed by the notion that a post-launch water injection development programme might well be able to achieve efficiency gains of real substance as had been seen with such a project carried out at Autodelta on the GTA touring car in the late ‘60s.  Nevertheless, a major influencing factor in the design of the 183T was the need for it to accommodate a 250 litres (55 gallon) fuel tank.

Alfa Romeo 890 engine

The questions of power unit configuration and fuel consumption were engineering-centred matters, largely within the control of Carlo Chiti.  There was one further factor which very significantly affected the initial development of the engine and its potential competitiveness in its first season of racing.  This was the sourcing and the specification of the turbochargers, and this issue had as much to do with politics as it did with engineering.  The engineering aspect was well covered – Autodelta had recently developed a single turbocharger version of the Alfetta GTV 2000 and built 400 for Group 4 homologation purposes.  In line with the then current norm, Chiti had opted for Kulne Kopp Kausch (KKK) turbochargers manufactured in Frankenthal, near Mannheim, Germany.  So it was unremarkable that Chiti’s new V8 wore KKKs as testing got underway.  But, whereas the Alfetta GTV 2000 Turbodelta project had been of some interest throughout the motor sport industry/community, Formula 1 represented a very much higher profile/general newsworthiness activity.  Consequently, intervention from far above Chiti’s head was soon being visited on the team at work in Settimo Milanese.

Part 2 will cover the development phase with the interim 182T, design/technical details of the 183T and its initial development and pre-season testing, followed by a race-by-race account of the car's further development and performances through the 1983 F1 season. 

If Only: The Abarth T140

The more I learn about Carlo Abarth, the more I wish I had had the opportunity to work for him.  He was I believe an especially notable example of the sort of distinctive personality one could encounter in a leader/senior management role in the automotive industry around the middle of the 20^th Century.  Their behaviour and outlook was such that in today’s social culture they probably would not retain their position for very long.  Such people had singular vision/belief, tremendous drive and no inhibitions about using their personality to manage and direct subordinates.  

  

In anecdotes from people who worked for him, Abarth himself is often referred to as someone who expected nothing less than their 100% dedication to the task, was very averse to ‘buttering them up,’ but who showed that he did in fact notice excellence by, for instance, handing over an envelope of bank notes!  By his own vision and dynamism he created a superb line of performance cars, the racing versions of which were highly successful, to the extent that they secured World Championships for six years in succession in the 1960s.  These achievements bolstered Abarth’s self-confidence whilst at the same time instilling in the Corso Marche factory workforce a pride in and dedication to his company.  These two factors are particularly relevant to the beginnings of a project designated ‘T140,’ which should have evolved into Abarth’s crowning glory.  Such a project – the creation of a 6 litre, V12-engine  and sports racing prototype car to compete with Ferrari, Porsche and Ford – needed to be originated and developed in a milieu of secrecy for which the automotive industry has never been well known.  And yet the obedient, proud and earnest workforce ensured with its discretion that both the engine and the body/chassis design were well advanced before anyone outside the Corso Marche factory gained any knowledge of the T140 before Spring 1967. 

The project had been announced internally by Carlo in July 1965.  The initial objective was competitiveness in the proposed new championship for Group 7 cars, the Can-Am Challenge Cup.  A joint initiative by the Sports Car Club of America and the Canadian Automobile Sports Club, the championship was due to be launched in September 1966 at Mont-Tremblant.  Abarth believed that the series, with its Johnsons Wax sponsorship, would offer a high profile marketing opportunity for his products.  However, with Group 7 being virtually a Formula Libre, he would need to create a new, much larger Abarth engine – designated ‘Tipo 240’ - to compete with the expected proliferation of ‘Big Block’ Chevrolet-engined cars contesting the races.

Responsibility for the engine’s design was delegated to Luciano Fochi.  Fochi – whose brother, Nino, was in charge of production at Abarth – had distinguished himself at Alfa Romeo, Maserati, Ferrari and Bugatti prior to joining Abarth in 1958.  In August the following year, Fochi persuaded Gianfranco Bossu, with whom he had worked at Bugatti, to move to Corso Marche, where they again collaborated with great expertise in the development of engines.  Recently, Gianfranco has kindly shared with me his recollections of the T140 project. 

By December 1966 a prototype engine with wet sump had been assembled.  The key features were: 120°, 5982 cc, V12,  SOHC, 24 valve, twin spark ignition, four Weber 40 LDA3C carburettors.  Bore was 92 mm and the stroke 75 mm.  The engine’s construction has previously been described as ‘modular’ in that the block and camshafts were composed of two joined component ‘halves.’  This was not of particular significance as these sub-components were newly created items and not derived from pre-existing, smaller capacity units.  However, the principle was noteworthy as applied also to the crankshaft, since it was at its centre joint – where power was taken off – that a major problem was discovered as soon as test running got underway.  The crankshaft is seen in Gianfranco’s contemporary sketch below:

 

Courtesy of Gianfranco Bossu

The arrangement is not exceptional, especially for a crankshaft of considerable length – that of the Porsche Type 912 Flat 12 917 engine, for instance, is similarly configured.  However, it was initially a weak point, giving rise to crack failures on the Tipo 240 engine.  Gianfranco remembers that the problem was solved by increasing the rigidity of the bearing supports with additional ribs and revised specification bearings.  At this stage the engine was found to be generating over 550 bhp.  With further development, including revision of the lubrication system resulting in the adoption of a dry sump in Quarter 1, 1967, 567 bhp was seen on the dynamometer; (Sample dyno graphs are seen below, with Power represented by the trace second from bottom, and Torque below that.)  With the project still in its early stages, it would have been reasonable to assume that higher output could be achieved with various upgrades, the application of fuel injection, for example.  Potential competitiveness can be judged by considering the performance of the Sixties large capacity racing power plants of Ford, Ferrari and Porsche.  The 7.0 V8 installed in the Mk.II version of the Ford GT40 developed 485 bhp; Ferrari’s mid-decade 330 P4s featured a 3 valve V12 which could give 450 bhp, while the later 512’s 5.0 V12 was good for 550 bhp; the Porsche 917 4.5 flat 12 had 520 - 580 bhp.  A disadvantage for the T240 was its weight, at 254.6 kgs (dry), whereas the 917, without the burden of a fluid cooling system, was 240.4 kgs.  It has been said that the prototype Tipo 240 engine was tested in a Lola T70 chassis, but no data exists to indicate just how well it performed on-track.

 

Courtesy of Gianfranco Bossu

But, of course, the potential of the T140 to take on that Big Three would depend also on the quality and capability of the chassis, which was designed by Antonio Tomaini.  Previously at Moretti, Tomaini had joined Abarth in 1962 to work in the design department.  However, before long Tomaini was also very active out and about at circuits, supporting the works team’s efforts, especially in terms of acquiring and evaluating feedback from the drivers.  For the T140, Tomaini set about designing a chassis in a format which would enable both an endurance racing coupe version and a Can-Am open car to be created with relative ease.  The timescale of the project did not allow the development of either the chassis or the bodywork to progress to any advanced stage, the latter being represented only by a wooden 1:1 model.  The origin of the style of the car can be seen in the contemporary OT Sport Spiders, which were Abarth’s first glass fibre-bodied products, and the 1600 OT Sport coupe.  The subsequent 2000 SE010 also provides a clear indication of how a finalised T140 would have looked.  The full size model was rendered by Sergio Seccatore who had arrived at Corso Marche in June 1966.  He recalls its initial presentation in his book, co-authored with Luca Gastaldi, Abarth Memories:

The wooden model was taken to the workshop, right beneath the technical office, and Colucci brought Abarth to see it.  Abarth looked at it but couldn’t understand the line of the car because the cuts for the doors, bonnet, lights hadn’t been made.  It was a beautiful piece of wood, a single shell.  So, Colucci called me to paint the model red.  I went to the storeroom but there wasn’t any red paint, so they gave me some iron rust preventer.  When the car was finished, Abarth came back and wanted to see the cuts for the doors, bonnet, lights, sockets and air vents, windshield.  I masked everything to paint the various parts with matt black paint.  I copied the headlights of the Ford GT40 and had the rear lights of the Alfa Romeo Giulia painted on the back.  I made holes for the headlights and started to mount one.  Abarth arrived at that moment.  He liked those solutions but when he picked up the light from the Giulia, he said it was too heavy and I had to find some others.  That one had a Zamak base and I had to find others in plastic.  So I went out on the street, to look at the cars parked there, hoping for inspiration.  I saw a Fiat 124 saloon: the rear lights were more or less the same shape and I had those purchased.  I completed the model.

Tomaini followed the conventions of the era in the construction of the chassis – mainly a tubular structure with aluminium and fibreglass panelling.  Some previous reviews of the T140 have cast doubt on how competitive it might have been, not only by way of engine performance, but also in terms of weight.  However, Abarth was quite adept at producing lithe prototype racing cars – the 2000 SE010 of 1968, for example, weighing in at just 480 kgs, to which the basic frame contributed a tiny 39 kgs.  For comparison, consider the contemporary Porsche 907, for which a kerb weight of 600 kgs has been quoted.  Tomaini and a design drawing of the T140 are shown below:

 

The mid-Sixties saw a considerable shake-up in the competitive hierarchy of endurance sports car racing.  Particular focus was increased on the Le Mans 24 Hours race and the determination of Henry Ford II to avenge, on-track, Ferrari’s rebuttal of a Dearborn take-over.  This gave rise to the GT40, a car which certainly delivered on Henry’s ambition, since it was driven to victory at Le Mans for 4 successive seasons, 1966-69.  The first two of those wins were achieved with the use of a 7 litre V8 engine.  For the governing body, the FIA, this caused concern – how could a good number of competitive entries be sustained if the performance benchmark was set by such a large capacity engine, especially, given the Paris-based FIA’s natural European-orientation – the continent’s automotive industry at that time being mainly engaged in projects with engines half that sort of size.  As a solution, and without preamble or consultation, on 12^th June 1967, the day after the second Ford victory by A J Foyt and Dan Gurney in a Mk.4 GT40, the FIA announced that for 1968 new ‘classes’ would apply for endurance racing, as defined by Appendix J to the International Sporting Code: Category A, production cars, Group 4 Sports cars; Category B, Group 6 Prototype sportscars.  For homologation, a manufacturer would have to produce at least 50 cars for Group 4 eligibility and engine capacity had to be less than 5 litres.  A 3 litre capacity limit applied for Group 6.  With a subsequent revision of the homologation requirement to 25 units, both Porsche and Ferrari would develop, respectively, the 917 and 512 models which provided some spectacular racing in 1970-71.

For Abarth, however, the announcement was wholly negative.  It was immediately concluded that the company did not have the financial strength and physical capacity to build and sell fifty T140s.  Equally, the continuance of the project to result merely in the construction of a very few examples to contest the Can-Am could not be justified on a cost/benefit analysis basis.  Sergio Seccatore’s recollection was that very soon after the FIA’s announcement, ‘We piled everything in a corner of the workshop and the story of the T140 ended like that.’  However disappointing that might be from my perspective, it’s quite possible that many at Corso Marche at the time breathed a sigh of relief.  It is said, for instance, that Carlo’s then manager of the mechanical chassis and bodywork department, Mario Colucci, was doubtful that the car could be built at a competitive weight.  Apparently, he also thought that the reported engine output values were somewhat exaggerated.  As with technical matters, such as the relative merits of a mid-chassis location for an engine against those applying to a rear-of-axle mounting, Colucci often acted as a foil to Carlo Abarth’s thinking, and he probably thought it prudent generally to counteract Carlo’s inherent optimism.  Though that optimism flowed from Carlo’s confidence built on a proven record of commercial and racing successes, it can equally be said that Colucci was well qualified to judge the specifics of chassis weight, he having designed the first tubular frame used by Abarth, for the 750 Sport, soon after he joined from Alfa Romeo in 1960.

Though the original project scope had included the manufacture of sufficient components to assemble two prototype engines, only a single unit has been seen in recent times.  This had been acquired by Engelbert Moll, former Abarth works driver (1963) and was a significant item in the collection of Abarth products held at his premises in Solothurn, Switzerland.  The Tipo 240 engine was the subject of much interest when displayed with other cars and engines from Moll’s collection at the Retromobile show in Paris, 2018, as seen in the photograph below.  I have been told by Tony Berni, global authority on Abarth and proprietor of Berni Motori, Maleo, Italy, that in the autumn of 2022, Moll sold his entire collection and it is now relocated in Japan.

 

As for the car, there is better news to report.  A BMW M73-engined replica was built by Hansi Marz in association with Udo Siekmann of Scuderia Gemini Corse and run at the Berni Motori track day held at Autodromo di Varano de’ Melegari in June 2017.  The car can be seen on the circuit here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dzKN0_ep5Gk.  It also featured in a Petrolicious article https://petrolicious.com/articles/the-abarth-historic-track-day-showcases-the-best-of-the-beloved-brand-from-bologna which included the photograph seen below:

 

It is quite commonplace to read critical comment about both the decision to embark upon the T140 project and the subsequent abrupt cancellation.  But it is not hard to see that the situation came about because both Abarth and the FIA planned and operated at the time with unusually well preserved secrecy.  What is less well known is that Abarth was not the only marque in that era which started a highly ambitious sport prototype project which came to nothing.  This was the aspiration of Dr Alfredo Belponer.  In the early Sixties he determined to create a new scuderia to support the activities of amateur racing drivers in and around his hometown of Brescia.  Establishment – and formal recognition – of Scuderia Brescia Corse became possible in late 1964 when Carlo Abarth agreed to support the team’s registration with the sporting authorities.  The Scuderia was soon successful, primarily in sports car events, and by 1967 was running a GT40 at Le Mans.  But Belponer had the ambition and wealth to go further, and he asked Bertone to create a Group 6 prototype.  The Carrozzeria obliged with a design named ‘Panther’ and it was unveiled in Turin and Geneva in Spring 1968.  More information about the Panther is available; here: https://supercarnostalgia.com/blog/bertone-panther

 

Scuderia Brescia Corse intended to order several Panthers and use them in an extensive international endurance racing campaign.  However, what Bertone could not do was produce suitable motive power for the car.  Belponer entered into discussions with BRM, seeking a supply of the Bourne-made F1 3.0 V12s, modified with durability rather than peak power, in mind.  When negotiations stumbled, he switched his quest to Maserati, but there too, no deal could be finalised.  As a result, just as with the T140, after much earnest effort, considerable expenditure and enthusiastic activity, the project just quietly expired.  The Panther is seen below:

 

I can’t help but wonder – how well would a Panther have gone with a short stroke, 5.0 Tipo 240 engine behind the driver’s seat!

There Were Four Thousand In Blackburn - The T260 Had Just 207

1971 was a very significant year.  From a personal perspective, I started my automotive career-proper at BMW, while, much more significantly, the BRM P160 proved highly competitive in Formula 1, LPs of great quality were released, such as Sticky Fingers, Who’s Next and Tapestry, there was the announcement of cars like the Alfasud, Maserati Bora and BMW 2002 Tii, and . . . hope sprung of a new dawn in the Cam-Am Challenge, with the addition to the grid of the Lola T260 and its driver, Sir Jackie Stewart.

BRM at Monza, September 1971

A Lola T70 Mk.2 in the hands of John Surtees had won the inaugural Can-Am Challenge in ’66.  However, since then, the M8 McLaren in its various iterations had steam-rollered the opposition, firstly as the Bruce and Denny Show (Bruce McLaren and Denny Hulme), then with Peter Revson partnering Hulme after McLaren’s death in 1970.  At the time, many of us resented the McLaren ‘win machine’ as the cause of the Group 7 series becoming boring because of repetitive, predictable results.

The Bruce (#4) & Denny (#5) Show, Laguna Seca, 1969. (Courtesy Motor Sport Images)

One of the very few series rivals to get anywhere near bothering the McLaren juggernaut was the Chaparral team of the innovatory Texan, Jim Hall.  Not content with seeking ultimate competitiveness from high downforce aerodynamics by mounting a tall rear wing on his 2E machine during the ’66 season, he surprised everyone four years later with his 2J – a car that achieved even more powerful ground effects by mechanically sucking air out from under its floor.  This was facilitated by a pair of rear-mounted fans and thus anticipated the similar solution devised by Gordon Murray for the Formula 1 Brabham BT 46B of 1978.  Not unexpected really, as his high wing concept had also found its way into Grand Prix racing during the 1969 season.  The 2J ran in only six Can-Am races in 1970, driven in the second of these – Watkins Glen – by the reigning F1 World Champion, Jackie Stewart.  In that first year of the new decade, Jackie was feeling the dispiriting effects of the deaths of several fellow drivers accumulated over the later years of the 1960s, and, ironically, persistent criticism of him about his safety campaigning.  Unsurprisingly, his enthusiasm for his profession was waning.  However, the revolutionary nature of the 2J was enough to revive his interest.  In his autobiography, Winning is Not Enough, he says: As we were discussing what to do about the Nurburgring, (its dangerous aspects) I was called away to take a telephone call from America.  It was Jim Hall, inviting me to drive the Chaparral in a sports car event, and, even in the middle of all that, I found myself getting as excited about the prospect of being behind the wheel of such a special car as I had at any stage of my life.  I instantly accepted his offer because the Chaparral was known as the most advanced racing car of its time.  Although his race at Watkins Glen ended in a retirement, the experience seems to have had a positive effect, for it was not too long before it was revealed that Stewart had reached agreement with Carl Haas to drive the new Lola 260T in a full 1971 Can-Am campaign.  Jackie was frank in the autobiography: The F1 season was my priority, but Cam-Am offered a second income stream that was hard to resist.

Jackie Stewart in the Chaparral 2J, Watkins Glen, 1970. (Courtesy Motor Sport Images)

Haas was a classic mid-century American automotive entrepreneur.  A Jewish immigrant to the ‘States just before WW2, he ran cars in several race series, including NASCAR, F5000, F1 and Indy/Champcar in addition to Can-Am, eventually becoming best known for his association with Hollywood’s Paul Newman and the formation of Newman/Haas/Lanigan Racing.  In the late sixties he contracted with Eric Broadley to act as the U.S. importer of Lola racing cars and developed the business to a highly successful level.  Broadley was happy to allow Haas to function as a works team and the American used his commercial nous to secure supportive sponsorship from cigarette makers, L & M.  Whilst Lolas had been a familiar part of the Can-Am scene in the late sixties, they had been relatively conventional and not front-of-the-grid competitive.  With such characteristics persisting in the new decade’s opening season’s Lolas – the T220 and T222 – Haas used all his powers of persuasion to convince Broadly that a more daring new design was essential if the perception of the Lola brand was not to be devalued because of lack-lustre results.

Left: Carl Haas at his business premises at Lincolnshire, Illinois. (Courtesy Racemaker/David Huson). 

Right: Haas with Eric Broadley, founder of Lola.  (Courtesy JKRacing50)

Broadley acceded to Haas’s entreaties and briefed his designer, Bob Marston.  He also sought input regarding bodywork from his associate, Peter Jackson, (and body engineer Peter Wright), at the expert glass fibre fabrication firm, Specialised Mouldings.  Broadley wanted a basically wedge shaped, compact form, with a relatively small overall footprint – he was keen for instance to avoid the substantial front end overhang seen on the McLarens.  But since the wedge format could, as had been seen with the Autocoast Ti-22 at Mont Tremblant in 1970, be prone to end-over-end loss of control incidents, the main aerodynamic emphasis was on the avoidance of front end lift, coupled with maximum possible downforce on the rear axle.  The latter was sought without any particular focus on the rear body surfaces but by simply using a large wing – not especially high mounted, but full width and located unusually far forward, most of its surface in front of the rear axle.  An additional distinctive bodywork feature was the presence of 207 small holes in the upper surface between the windscreen base and the front brake air duct openings.  These were for the purpose of releasing air that otherwise would cause a build-up of high pressure, and thus lift, underneath the front end of the monocoque floor.  The nose incorporated a depth-variable front splitter. 

Otherwise, the T260 was largely ‘state of the art’ for the time, featuring an aluminium monocoque, side mounted radiators, horizontal mounted, rocker arm actuated front springs and inboard brake discs, front and rear.  A relative novelty was the specification of 13” front wheels. The engine was a Foltz-built 8.1 litre big block Chevrolet V8 mated to a Hewland Mk.2 four speed transmission.  Output at 7,000 rpm was commonly quoted as being 700-760 bhp and 600+ lb-ft torque.  Foltz offered some options regarding the amount and spread of torque generated in order to make easier the evaluation of the car’s handling during the early stages of development. 

At the time, Frank Gardner – mostly known for his F5000 and saloon car exploits – was Lola’s test and development driver.  He was able to take the T260 out on track, (at Silverstone), for the first time in May 1971.  With the first round of the Can-Am due at Mosport in Canada in mid-June, scope was limited.  Gardner was quick to express his concern about this because it was immediately apparent that the car inherently understeered, and a ‘cure’ would likely require a considerable number of testing miles.

Gardner testing the T260 at Silverstone, May 1971.

Note especially the 13” front wheels and forward position of the wing. (Courtesy Motor Sport)

Stewart for his part encountered the car at Silverstone at the beginning of June.  The weather was against him – heavy rain – and his initial impressions are not recorded.  He had however already prevailed upon Broadley to make a significant change.  Ten months previously Jochen Rindt’s accident at Monza in the Lotus 72 still weighed heavily on the World Champion’s mind.  Not only were the Stewart and Rindt families very good friends, but Jackie was especially close to Jochen, considering the Austrian his principal rival on-track.  Though the sudden, violent sharp left hand swerve into the Parabolica armco was not per se the cause of Rindt’s death – that was attributable to his belts not being properly secured – Stewart was highly sceptical about the advisability of running inboard front brakes, given the possible consequences of a shaft failure.  Broadley had no alternative but to agree that the front brake discs be moved outboard.  At the same time, a similar revision was effected at the rear, since the limited testing so far completed had revealed problems with heat not being dissipated sufficiently from the discs.  And there was a knock-on from this.  To accommodate the relocated discs, larger diameter – 15” - front wheel rims were required – along with an enlargement of the leading curve of the wheel arch.

Stewart with the T260 at Silverstone, June 1971. (Courtesy Sutton Images)

We do know that Stewart at last had the chance to drive the T260 in unconstrained circumstances at the Mosport circuit on 10^th June.  His perception of the car’s handling characteristics – not helped by the bumpy nature of the track – were summed up by his apparent likening of the machine to a ‘pregnant elephant!’  The following day he was nevertheless able to set the day’s fastest time and this proved to be good enough for pole position when the Saturday session became rain affected.  Next day, at the opening round of the Can-Am season, he led the race from Hulme’s M8F, but retired just short of quarter distance because of a failed transmission seal.  The McLaren team had had a scare, but Hulme took the victory and the marque’s cars filled places 1-6 in the race results table.

Stewart’s T260 at Mosport, June 1971. The bigger front wheels and related re-profiled front wheel arch are evident. (Courtesy Jerry Bendl Collection)

Two weeks later, Round 2 of the Can-Am series was scheduled for Mont Tremblant.  Like Mosport, this was circuit notorious for its uneven track surface.  Stewart however was hoping for a better ride from the T260 as some additional changes had been made after the Mosport event.  The rear suspension geometry had been revised and the wing relocated a little further to the rear of the car.  But in practice and qualifying the car still proved to be hard work.  Stewart nevertheless managed to qualify the T260 2^nd, just three tenths slower than Hulme’s pole time and 1.8 seconds better than Peter Revson’s 3^rd place time in the second M8F.  Though Hulme maintained a lead for much of the race, he didn’t really get away from the Lola and when he flagged in the latter stages, Stewart was able to get past and take his car through to its maiden victory.

Stewart closes in on Hulme at Mont Tremblant, June 1971

Road Atlanta hosted Round 3 in mid-July.  Stewart qualified 3^rd, a full second off Hulme’s pole time.  The race was a mixed bag for the Lola – Stewart hustled it enough to record the race’s fastest lap, and moved up past Hulme and Revson into the lead.  However, the T260 then suffered a rear tyre puncture and the pit stop to fix this became prolonged when the engine cut and didn’t want to restart.  Although running at the finish, the car was several laps down having also developed a rear damper failure – a disappointing outcome as it had clearly had the beating of the McLarens on track. 

Stewart and the T260 were quickest at Road Atlanta until a tyre punctured. (Courtesy Autosports Marketing Associates)

A fortnight on, the Can-Am circus reconvened at Watkins Glen.  Perhaps helped by his familiarity with the Glen from his Grand Prix drives there, (as was the case too at Mosport, and, to a lesser extent, Mont Tremblant), Stewart put on another strong qualifying show, just pipping Revson and Hulme to the pole.  Next day he held a comfortable lead until a little past the halfway point, when a driveshaft failure intervened and forced retirement of the car.

Stewart enjoys a clear lead over the McLarens at Watkins Glen. (Courtesy Motor Sport Images)

Round 5 must have felt like ‘back to square one’ – the Mid Ohio circuit, like the opening, Canadian, rounds’ venues was something of a car breaker, being notable bumpy.  In qualifying the McLarens handled this better than the Lola – Hulme’s pole time was nearly a second quicker than Stewart’s 3^rd place lap.  But it was fortunate that the T260 was not further down the grid as it had been afflicted with multiple suspension failures during practice.  The confidence evident in Stewart’s demeanour at the Glen was also undermined by his perception of Mid Ohio as a particularly dangerous track with limited run-off areas and a host of trackside hazards.  He was forthright on Sunday morning in saying how dissatisfied he was with the place and that he didn’t intend to run at anything like his or the car’s full performance potential.  Thus it seemed somewhat paradoxical that following the demise of both the M8Fs with driveshaft failures, Stewart was able to chalk up his second victory of the season.

The T260 at Mid Ohio – note how much further back the wing is by now mounted. (Courtesy Niagara Pauls Blogspot)

In late August the second half of the series opened with the 6^th Round at Road America, (Elkhart Lake).  With the Mid Ohio win serving to re-boost confidence and signs that the long-established McLaren superiority might be faltering with reliability issues, there was good reason to expect that Stewart would be hunting Hulme and Revson down for the points table lead.  As an added positive, the Haas team was also keen to be more adventurous in its efforts to improve the car’s handling and aerodynamic behaviour – the chronic understeer still being a real issue for Stewart.  Thus, the car appeared at the Wisconsin circuit with a fully reworked rear end – an even larger-surface (and higher incidence) rear wing, with substantial end plates integrated with the rear quarter panel sides.  This was combined with a new ‘shovel’ form spoiler running across the bottom edge of the nose.

The new rear wing and front spoiler at Road America. (Courtesy Jim Buell)

Practice and qualifying threw up some surprises.  Whilst Hulme secured the pole with a time 2 seconds quicker than his nearest challenger, that competitor wasn’t teammate Revson – or even Stewart.  Finally coming good was the controversial Shadow Mk.2 of Jackie Oliver.  Stewart was 3^rd, but apparently hampered by a lack of power.  The team bit the bullet and changed the engine for the race, but this overheated and failed after just 10 laps.  So it was an unsatisfying end to the weekend with uncertainties remaining, especially in regard to the car’s aerodynamics, the original rear wing form having been reinstated and no conclusions reached about the persistent understeer.  Broadley was struggling to understand cause and effect, though he had demonstrated his perspicacity in wondering how well the body surface holes were relieving under-floor pressure when the gauze covering of many of them was clogged with paint required for the L & M livery!  One could not help but wonder if the car was founded on an aerodynamic theory full of holes.

 

With five Grand Prix wins up to August 1^st, Stewart was assured of his second World Championship by the time of Round 7 of the Can-Am at Donnybrooke.  He was no doubt philosophic about the contrast between his successes and confidence in his Tyrrell and his results with the Lola, to say nothing of how little he’d been enjoying driving the Group 7 car.  The team would have hoped to have had him smiling a little more by effecting some rear suspension upgrades following the Road America event.  But hope was outdone by reality in this instance – the McLarens seemed to be getting better after the mid-season frailties, whereas the Lola’s handling continued to tax Stewart’s patience.  With no improvement clearly obvious from the revisions tried at Road America, the rear wing form reverted to the original format.  As was becoming the pattern, Stewart was 3^rd in qualifying, not especially close to the times of Hulme and Revson.  Nonetheless, the Lola got off the line well and headed the M8Fs initially until Revson went past for the lead.  Stewart was able to hold Hulme behind him, but various troubles led to pit stops that hampered Stewart’s progress to the extent that he could finish no better than 6^th.

Stewart stays 2nd  in front of Hulme at Donnybrooke. (Courtesy Tim Winker)

Late September saw the Can-Am back in Canada, at Edmonton for Round 8.  There was a further revised, tacked-on ‘shovel’  panel in place to give the nose a more scoop-like profile and almost all of the rear wing depth was now behind the back edge of the rear panel.  The effectiveness of these changes was difficult to judge in the track conditions and Stewart’s qualifying performance could once again not achieve anything better than 3^rd.  In the race, his ultra-smooth skills enabled him to take and maintain the lead on a wet circuit.  Eventually, however, he had an off, and this apparently caused some damage, as the T260’s handling was subsequently less manageable.  It nevertheless remained one of the car’s better days, as Stewart was able to run to the finish headed only by Hulme’s McLaren.

On the grid at Edmonton – note the revised front end and the extreme rear location of the wing. (Courtesy TheRoaringSeason)

Laguna Seca was the location for the penultimate round.  Despite Stewart’s big and unsalvageable points deficit vis-a-vis the McLarens, effort was ongoing to try and give him a car which could match his other-worldly driving expertise.  This time there was some astonishment when it was seen that the front of the car was no longer just being augmented with a relatively small re-profiler – it now had a substantial tubular structure projecting forward of the nose, supporting a large, full-width aerofoil which was promptly nicknamed, ‘The Cowcatcher.’  The rear wing remained distinctly rearward of the back panel and run at a steeper angle of attack than as seen at Edmonton.  The T260 had begun the season as the ultimate ‘stubbie’ but now boasted an exceptionally long footprint.

New wings, front and rear, at Laguna Seca. (Courtesy TheRoaringSeason)

In qualifying, Stewart was within a second of Revson and Hulme, the former taking pole.  However, the Lola was 4^th on the grid as the Mk.2 Autocoast Ti22 was three tenths quicker in the hands of David Hobbs.  The Ti had less race pace and was soon displaced on the Sunday by Stewart who further progressed by passing Hulme for 2^nd.  Revson struggled with an ailing engine to finish the race but hung on to take the win.  There was some post-race confusion as it was contended by the Haas team that Revson should have been black flagged and the race awarded to the Lola.  However, Revson’s victory was subsequently upheld, so Stewart had to be content with 2^nd – itself by no means a bad result.

Though looking unwieldy with its front and rear ‘extensions,’ Stewart was able in the T260 to outpace Hulme’s M8F at Laguna Seca. (unattributed, via Bonhams)

The teams were at Riverside at the end of October to close out the Cam-Am series.  The T260 made its way to its customary 3^rd fastest in qualifying.  Stewart took it past Revson and settled into a secure but lonely 2^nd place until the engine failed with 3/5 of the race run.

Final aerodynamic tweak for the T260 is substantial end plates for the rear wing. (Courtesy Lola Heritage)

On face value, the final series points table for the top three suggested ‘business as usual’ for McLaren.  However, Stewart and the T260 had provided the most substantial challenge for a very long time to the dominance of the M8s.

Although there was never any prospect of Stewart committing to another season with Haas, it’s reasonable to suppose that with a winter of development and a new, ambitious driver, the wins tally could have been considerably greater than just two in 1972.  However, the obdurate handling problems of the T260 had taken their toll.  For Lola, the attraction of a new start became irresistible, and thus Broadley laid down a brief for the T310 – a Can-Am car that was long and wide and looking not at all related to its short and stubby, highly characterful, predecessor.  But I have to leave the last word to Sir Jackie: I enjoyed working with Carl Haas in 1971, but the car had been a dog to drive . . .