by John Glynn | Aug 20, 2009 | Classic Porsche Blog, Market & Prices
911 folklore has always claimed that coupes are the only models worthy of the attentions of serious drivers, with Targa and Cabriolet versions simply frivolous range-fillers. I’ve never really bought into this notion, and recently brought an almost-matching pair of Carrera 3.0s together to do a Porsche 911 Coupe vs Targa comparison. Read the full story below!
The Carrera 3 was first introduced for the 1976 model year. While most manufacturers in the mid-70s were still pandering to a chrome-plated public who liked their cars slathered in shiny chrome, Porsche Design unveiled their black-and-colour impact bumper design, which was to prove one of the most enduring styling exercises the automotive world has ever seen.
The understated impact bumper (IB) cars were a Porsche staple for sixteen years, from 1974 to 1989. The durability of the galvanised bodywork introduced in 1976, combined with the sales success of the 911SC, and the 3.2 Carrera, makes the IB style seem almost commonplace these days. But don’t be fooled by the familiar appearance of the pair seen here. Sold for just two seasons, and never exported to the all-important American market, the ’76-’77 Carrera 3.0 is a rare beast, particularly in right hand-drive Targa guise. It’s a privilege to have two such good examples with us today.
In the interest of resetting our current-day complacency with the IB look, let’s put these cars into period perspective. Back then, the average man in the street was driving a Vauxhall Viva or Ford Cortina, so sleek and sexy 911s were unbelievably exotic, costing substantially more than a Ferrari 308. Contemporary supercars, such as the incredible Lamborghini Countach LP400, despatched the dash from 0-60 in about 6.8 seconds; Motor magazine got the Carrera 3 there over a second faster.
The mid ‘70s was a time of great change for Porsche road cars. While the company launched the 924 and 928 models, increasingly tough emissions targets emerged in the critical US market. The new standards meant that, though the less powerful 2.7 911s passed the legislation and could be sold in America, the 2.7 Carrera with its mechanical fuel injection could not, creating a performance gap which did the 911 brand no favours. Keen to wring every last sale out of the 911, but equally keen to keep development costs down on a car that was supposedly coming up for the chop, Porsche began to look at ways of updating the existing range-topper for not a lot of money. The result was the Carrera 3.0.
Porsche 911 Carrera 3.0 explained
For the engine, the lightweight six-bolt 2.7 Carrera crankshaft was retained, carried in an aluminium rather than a magnesium crankcase. Aluminium had been tried and tested on the Turbo, and borne the strain of the bigger 95mm Nikasil-plated cylinders plus boost pressure. So the same case and cylinders were used on the C3, increasing both capacity and economies of scale.
Bosch K-Jetronic injection was chosen to supply the fuel. K-Jet doesn’t like aggressive cams or rorty valve timing, and the intake is restrictive compared to MFI stacks, but it is much more efficient than the mechanical system, an important factor in a world which had not forgotten the 1973 oil crisis. The system was also cheaper than MFI, which greatly appealed to cost-conscious management.
Porsche 911 K-Jet Bosch CIS injection
To counteract the performance downsides of K-Jet, Porsche fitted slightly larger valves and designed a new camshaft that was to last almost 14 years, up to the end of the 3.2 models. These changes brought engine output to 200 bhp, ten short of the outgoing 2.7 Carrera, but with better economy, lower emissions and identical torque peaking lower down, dramatically improving flexibility. The Carrera 3.0 was almost 5 seconds faster from 25 to 50 mph in top gear than the 2.7 Carrera it replaced.
As a low production model, which led the transition from the 210 bhp 2.7 Carreras to the sturdy but slower 3 litre SCs, C3s have always been a little misunderstood; something of an acquired taste. But few cars in this price bracket give anything like the same satisfaction.
Porsche 911 Coupe vs Targa comparison
Porsche racer Carlo Bonetti, owner of the spotless Grand Prix White Targa seen here, is a self-confessed C3 addict. There are five sets of 911 keys hanging up at home, with two fitting the locks of three-litre Carreras. Bonetti began his motor racing on motorbikes, until a series of accidents led wife Toni to insist on something safer. Caterhams beckoned, followed by a short hop into 924 racing. The next season saw him in a 3.2 Carrera, competing in the Porsche Club championship.
Carlo’s opposite number today is Mike Horsburgh, owner of this beautiful 1977 Carrera 3.0 coupe, his first 911. Mike’s car was extensively concoursed for a few years by a previous owner, before a friend managed to prise the cosseted coupe away from its devoted caretaker. Mike came across the car while looking for an unmolested example. Other previous owners include Keith Ripp, of Ripspeed accessories and rallycross championship fame.
Looking at the cars in detail, it is interesting to note the number of features unique to these models. One Carrera 3 engine trademark is the five-blade engine fan, seen on both of these cars. Fitted with a different pulley, it ran the alternator at a slighter higher speed, but the yang to this ying was an adverse effect on outright cooling power in warmer climes. The 11-blade fan would make a comeback on the SC, and switching to the 11-blade model is a popular alteration on ‘76/’77 Carreras.
Other early IB touches on these cars include the lack of side repeaters, giving an uninterrupted sweep down the flanks, and the single side mirror on the coupe, the passenger mirror being an option at the time. The coupe features the very rare C3-only alloy and fibreglass tail, now highly sought after. This Targa runs the purposeful one piece rubber spoiler, fixed to a steel engine cover. The solid chunk of black, with its exaggerated rear lip, sits well against the immaculate Grand Prix White bodywork.
The cars feature quite a few parts no longer available from Porsche, and eye-wateringly expensive from those who still have stock: the classic “periscope” headlamp washers on Mike’s coupe, for example. Later impact bumpers were fitted with flush jets as on the Targa, but the early jets are an age-defining feature. £200 a pair, thanks very much.
Beneath the svelte bodywork, mechanical rarities abound. Early C3s had a now hard-to-find fuel pump, using a side outlet, rather than direct flow. With replacements costing over £700, any fuel pump noise should be regarded with suspicion. Smaller differences include a unique fuel filter arrangement on ’76 Carreras, one of many subtle changes made from ’76 to ’77. Carrera 3.0s also use early-style rear anti-roll bars in 18mm diameter, and these bars remain highly prized.
Some of the interior parts for these cars can also be very difficult to locate. The thick-rimmed steering wheels seen here have long been on the rare side, made even rarer by the fact that the spokes have a habit of cracking at the rim – an expensive repair involving welding and a retrim. Early sports seats as fitted to both these cars are also gaining in appreciation. The correct versions for Carrera 3.0s are identified by a Recaro-logo’d knob controlling backrest angle, as opposed to a turnwheel on later examples. Other rare parts include the Targa sunvisors, which explains the rather puffy appearance of these ones. “They’re certainly original,” says Carlo, “but when I find suitable replacements, I’ll be changing them.”
First keys in my hand are those of the coupe, so I settle in to the supportive driver’s seat and twist the knife of life. The engine fires instantly and we’re off. Mike’s car might be familiar to some readers, as it features in Peter Morgan’s reference book, “Original Porsche 911”. The feel behind the wheel should also be very familiar to anyone who has ever driven an impact bumper; the cockpit and controls are pretty much identical through the years and, whatever old road tests say about the absence of ergonomics, everything falls readily to hand.
A few things jar, though not excessively. The speedometer is rotated anticlockwise, for better visibility of the upper register, something I have never felt the need to do myself. The rev counter is a lower-redlined replacement, and the centre console, introduced for the 1977 model year, frustratingly obfuscates the otherwise flat floor, a mild frustration which continues as the engine warms up, and we go a little faster.
That glorious motor is the whole point of the Carrera 3 – were it not for the engine there would be only detail and weight differences between these and the later SC. Though the identical three-litre displacement suggests similar potential, driving C3 and SC back-to-back reveals quite a different character. The Carrera’s smaller crankshaft, and the lightweight magnesium-cased transmission of early examples, imbues the drivetrain with a zestful zinginess that is somewhat muted on later three litres. That excited energy is all but non-existent in the 3.2 Carrera and, in my opinion, denotes a new paradigm in the flat six ethos. Over three litres, the engines just don’t rev as thrillingly.
Mike’s Carrera 3.0 is equipped with opening rear windows, or ‘pop-outs’ as they are known, in rare and attractive anodised black. Combined with the centre-vent dashboard, they are extremely effective in ventilation, and add immense character to the soundtrack when open. Their deletion on the 911SC was to the coupe’s distinct detriment.
Slicing through the gears, the speedo soon reads a jaunty-angled 90 mph, but the Carrera is not quite as settled as others I have tried. I suspect part of the reason may lie in the car’s concours past. Despite its 116,000 miles, not much has been changed since it left the factory. It also runs Pirelli P600 tyres, which I admit to disliking on 911s, especially in the wet. I get the feeling that a session of corner weighting would make a big difference to the fun offered by this special example, but Mike is loath to tweak the almost time-warp coupe beyond stock. I understand, but still can’t help thinking that a quick corner balance would be money well spent. Having the weights, heights and cambers set properly would get the car working its tyres to best effect, and release ever more of that C3 righteousness.
Though the Targa has covered fewer than 70,000 miles in 32 years, substantial 911 experience on road and track has taught Carlo the importance of fettling in getting the most out of these cars. The Targa is fresh from re-commissioning after many years of covering under 800 miles per annum. As part of the overhaul, Bonetti had the rust-free bodywork repainted by APM Autos in Bradford. The 450-mile round trip demonstrated considerable faith in their workmanship, faith which has been well placed.
Targas are sunshine cars. Even today, when the skies over Silverstone are darker than a David Lynch film festival, unclipping the Targa’s folding roof is like a sun-filled fissure cracking through the clouds. To my eyes, the car’s appearance improves many times over without that slab of flat black vinyl killing the comely curves, the shapely rear glass emphasising the absence of heavy metal.
Lack of torsional rigidity is often cited as a major Targa downside, but this is not as true as some would have us think. Let’s not forget that the very first Porsche was a roadster, so the company knows a thing or two about roofless engineering. No strengthening was required to transform the 911 from roofless coupe to Targa; the hoop and its fixings are the only additional metalwork. Compliance placed in the chassis at source, via softer suspension components, has often been incorrectly credited to the lack of a fixed roof.
When Car and Driver editor David E Davis drove an SC Targa, he memorably said: “There is a hard-to-define “rightness” about this car, inside and out. It’s tight, solid and apparently very well put together.” This low-mile Carrera 3.0 Targa makes me feel the same way. On the road with the roof off, it is solid and squeak free. The chassis feels light and responsive, even on the wider 7 and 8×16-inch Fuchs wheels, shod with chunky Contisports. The senses are assailed through the open top, engine bursting with enthusiasm for the winding Northamptonshire roads.
This Targa inspires confidence, more so than the coupe. Much of this is undoubtedly in the suspension set up, but even with all things equal, the Targa is not the soft option some assume it should be. My own Carrera 3.0 coupe is a great drive, but there is no vast dynamic chasm between it and this Targa on the road.
Bonetti has direct experience of the Targa versus his Copper Brown C3 coupe, and says the only differences are wind noise and weight. “I push my cars in and out of the garage, rather than running the engines for ten seconds a time, and the Targa is a little harder to shift. The additional poundage is evident on the corner balance scales.” The plus side of those few extra kilos is that the roof comes off, giving a fuller sensation of speed, space and inherent eagerness.
The impression of space is not an illusion. Targas benefit from increased headroom, especially in the rear; a boon when carrying older children. The lack of a fixed roof is a plus for taller drivers, when wearing helmets on track, for example. As another Targa fan pointed out, his golf clubs can enter the rear via the open roof, adding to the practicality.
What is ironic is that, when talking to Targa owners, the car’s appearance is rarely mentioned; it is usually coupe owners who make a bit of a song and dance about the Targa’s looks. In a straw poll conducted on the impactbumpers.com forum, most anti-Targa sentiment expressed was on a purely aesthetic basis, perhaps the only possible objection to a well-maintained Targa used in normal, day-to-day pleasure driving.
If the classic coupe roof line is paramount in your passion for the 911, then a tin top is what you must have. However, if your agenda is slightly wider, and involves an entertaining drive which brings the early 911 experience vividly to life, do not deny yourself the opportunity to try the Targa. The decision is not as black and white as one might think.
by John Glynn | Aug 14, 2009 | Classic Porsche Blog, Modified Porsche Hot Rods
My latest 911 & Porsche World magazine article comparing Porsche 911 3.2 Carrera versus 3.4 engine conversion is below. It’s big air-cooled engine rebuild week!
This piece was a lot of fun to do: two 911-owning brothers from Birmingham, who had developed their cars in tandem but approached from different angles. I think it came out as a good read and the boys love it.
Sibling Rivalry
When car-crazy brothers modify sibling 911s, there’s bound to be some rivalry. Ferdinand Porsche writer, John Glynn, decides whether someone should be sent to their room.
Born in Wolverhampton in the West Midlands, Shirish and Anil Patel are brothers; youngest of five, two years apart. I’ve known both for a few years now, and they are a credit to good parenting: intelligent, well spoken and always immaculately turned out (you can stop reading now, mum).
Like many brothers, it was while they shared a bedroom as kids that their mutual fascination with classic cars kicked off. Also like many brothers, neither will say who started it. “It was always there,” Anil declares. “Dad was a Ford man, devoted to Cortinas. With the blue oval as household badge of choice, we were RS crazy, and the walls were plastered with hot Escorts and Capris. We knew about 911s, but were never Porsche obsessed. The 911 thing didn’t happen until years later.”
Older brother Anil was first to bring a Porsche badge to the party. “I was looking for a classic car up to £10K, and thought an Alfa Romeo might be the way forward. Searching a few dealer websites, I found 911SCs lined up alongside the Alfas. I hadn’t considered 911s affordable, so I started digging about, to see what I could find. The first few trade cars I saw were ropey at best, so I increased the budget and started looking at private examples.”
This 1987 Carrera Coupe in shimmering Diamond Blue is what he ended up with. “The seller was a farmer who’d owned the car for ten years. He loved it but hadn’t really been using it, so the mileage was fairly low. I’d already looked at a 25th Anniversary Carrera in the same blue and liked the colour, so the paint was a plus. The owner had changed the registered colour of this one to grey as he was convinced that, were it ever stolen, the police would never find it if they were looking for a blue one.”
The bizarre logic did Anil a favour. The reluctant seller’s lacklustre ad for an old grey Porsche, being sold due to lack of use, had aroused little interest. Big brother bagged a nice G50 Carrera in his favourite shade for sensible money.
Shirish’s path to Porsche ownership was a direct result of driving the new arrival. “When Anil said he’d bought a 911, I shot straight over for a spin. After I’d had a go, no way was I missing out.” It took almost a year for Shirish to find the right car: a minty fresh Carrera Club Sport. Though the boys were clearly enjoying their shared interest in Stuttgartian sporting elegance, the rest of the clan didn’t quite understand.
“No one else in our family is all that fussed about cars,” says Shirish. “When Anil and I started getting into 911s, the age of our steeds caused some consternation. My mum asked, “why an E reg, why not buy a newer one?” They weren’t aware of how well older Porsches held their value.”
The Club Sport lasted a couple of years, before London life took its toll, and the absence of a garage for the cherished 3.2 forced Shirish to sell. An Audi RS2 filled the vacant parking space. The Polar Silver 4wd estate, a Porsche in all but silhouette, was a blitzkrieg-wagen par excellence, but the lure of the flat six never faded. The RS2 was eventually advertised for sale, only to be stolen the same weekend. It was found crashed and burnt out a few days later.
Losing the RS2 convinced Shirish that, without secure parking at home, another big-money Porsche was not what was called for. Anil had started playing about with his car, taking bits off and trying new stuff, so Shirish followed his older sibling’s example and decided to go for something more affordable, a car that could be customised with a clear conscience.
First registered in August 1987, Shirish’s Granite Green Carrera predates its Diamond Blue brother by eight months and a day. The owner admits the dark metallic shade had sold him on the car before he ever saw it in the metal.
Side by side here on the beautiful Berkshire Downs, the colours of these sibling Carreras compliment the landscape, and each other. The diamond hue harmonises with the hazy purple horizon, while the green melts into the subtle tones of this earthy environment.
Diamond Blue and Granite Green were both introduced with the G50 transmission for the 1987 model year. They stayed on the menu during 1988, before Granite was dropped for 1989, the final year of the impact bumper cars. I confess to being a big Diamond Blue fan. Its silvery sleekness shifts in sunlight to be sometimes sky, sometimes slate but always seductive over the curvaceous flanks of a classic Porsche.
As noted earlier, Diamond Blue was the colour chosen for the Anniversary Carreras, built to celebrate 25 years of the 911. The cars featured ruffled leather seats in purple (in reality more blue than purple), headrests emblazoned with Ferdinand’s signature, and thick Silver Blue carpets throughout. On body-coloured Fuchs, the Anniversary cars are an attractive package, though Anil and I agree it’s a while since either of us has seen one in genuinely nice condition.
The younger car’s bodywork is in good shape, following a bare-metal respray last year. Anil chose a recommended bodyshop in Reading to do the work, but is not best pleased with how it has worked out. One or two spots on the car are showing clear signs of poor preparation – frustrating having spent a substantial chunk of cash. He’d like to take it back and get it sorted, but who wants to send their pride and joy back to the crowd who messed up in the first place? I know where he’s coming from.
Still, the car looks amazing. The silver bonnet badge sets up a smooth theme that flows, through the front fog and headlight washer delete, to the deleted rear wiper and badgeless rear end. The bright-petalled 16-inch Fuchs work well with the colour and the ride height, emphasising this Porsche’s thoroughbred profile. The whale-tailed engine cover cements the flowing motif. This car looks fast, even when parked.
Big brother has made a few changes since buying his Carrera back in 2001. Bilstein HD dampers were one of the first purchases, but the suspension is otherwise pretty stock. New Neatrix bushes sit in the spring plates, with standard torsion bars all round. The front end features turbo tie rods, an ERP bump steer kit to correct steering angle on the lowered ride height and a Steve Wong strut brace, replacing the previous Weltmeister. The car was lowered by Steve Bull in Devizes and aligned by GT One in Chertsey.
Anil believes in evolution not revolution, and changes in the engine compartment are true to that philosophy. The ECU received a custom Steve Wong chip, with Magnecor plug leads taking the sparks to the internally stock powerplant. Drilled airbox, Club Sport engine mounts and a rear heater blower delete pretty much covers it in here.
Underneath, the exhaust has been modified with a H&S crossover, pre-silencer and silencer, but Anil is not convinced that this setup was the right decision. “You can’t do the valves without taking the exhaust off. This adds to the cost of servicing, plus I’m not sure about the additional heat on the heads. Also, we recently discovered the gaskets they fitted were handmade efforts with holes the size of 2p pieces – nowhere near big enough.” The restrictive metal gaskets physically melted under the pressure; factory parts now seal the joints. Finally uncorked, the car runs a lot better, though further engine developments are on the cards when top end rebuild time comes round. A look in the back of baby brother’s motor gives us a clue.
Shirish’s second 911 was sourced through an independent marque specialist. Following a litany of post-purchase issues, he’s been left unimpressed by the dealer experience, but money spent in the right places has since brought the car on leaps and bounds. The main reason for the gaping chasm in SP’s deposit account is hidden from view: an engine rebuild to 3.4 litres that was done by Winter. Steve Winter that is, at Jaz in Wembley.
Soon after taking ownership, the 3.2 was found to be using a litre of oil every 800 miles: time for a top end rebuild. A 3.6 transplant was an option, but that is not so much building as swapping, and the costs only make sense if the 3.6 never goes bang. Shirish took the decision to keep the bombproof 3.2 bottom end, and increase capacity with a big-buck Mahle 3.4 conversion.
Anyone who has ever investigated this upsize knows one thing: it’s not cheap. Consider the cost of putting an upstairs on a bungalow, relative to the value of said bungalow, and you’re in the right ballpark.
Build time for the mega motor was initially estimated at two weeks. The case was leak free, so the decision was taken to leave it together, refurb the heads and assemble the new parts. Two weeks became six and, in hindsight, Shirish would rather have split the case and balanced the bottom end.
Brand spanking Mahle pistons and 98mm barrels were not the only bits little brother bought. A pair of Dougherty Racing DC20 cams were found, and a 3.2 throttle body was bored out 3mm to increase the charge at wide open throttle. A lightweight starter was added, as well as Club Sport mounts and an upgraded K3 alternator. The list goes on.
Smart Racing valve springs, 993 head studs and rod bolts, refurbed injectors, new ICV and crank sensors, gearbox sensor, oil pressure switch, new seals everywhere. The transmission was given a lift with the G50 clutch fork mod, and new master and slave cylinders. The clutch was replaced with a 930 clutch disc, new release bearing and a Kennedy lightweight aluminium pressure plate.
Mothy heat exchangers and crossover pipe were replaced with standard Porsche items, flowing into a Scart pre-silencer and a DP Motorsport muffler. The engine fittings were replated, tinware was replaced and powdercoated, and new rear wheel bearings were the final while-you’re-in-there. Phew!
As the car arrives at our meeting point, the sound is impressive; the engine exudes unadulterated authority through the chunky DP silencer. This muffler is heavy – Shirish reckons 12 kilos – but the noise is anthemic. So it should be: new ones cost circa €1200.
The chorus of both cars on the move is intoxicating. The 3.2 has a lighter tone than its bigger brother; the sweet spot of that air-cooled thrum meets the eardrum lower down the rev range. The 3.4 is understandably louder through its bigger pipe, but volume is not the main ingredient. The DC20s lend a bass heavy burble to the tune played at tickover which carries right through the revs: it’s racecar sound at sensible decibels. At wide open throttle, it rocks the casbah.
Shirish loves the noise it makes, but he has not really heard it yet. Just as an acoustic guitar is never properly heard by the guitarist (the sound exits away from your ears, set behind the sound hole), so the sound of a 911 can only be appreciated when standing behind it. Now curious, he hands me the keys and I take off.
Take off is the right expression; this is a rocketship. I am expecting the bigger capacity to slow the revs down, but the reverse is true. Similar piston area with a slightly lighter rotating mass means the motor spins like a cartoon Tasmanian Devil. Flooring the throttle, I quickly hit the limiter in one and two: it revs that much faster than my Carrera 3.0. What the owner has spent is immediately justified by what has been gained: this missile is ballistic.
In a few seconds, I am knocking on big speeds and wishing Shirish had never swapped the tail for a flat lid. Standard ride height and all-original suspension means this new-found grunt really gives the chassis something to think about, and the underpinnings are the next job on the list. The engine was recently remapped, making 269 flywheel hp, but that’s unlikely to be ultimate power. With the engine and suspension upgrades Shirish has planned, this car will be off the scale.
Anil’s car might have fewer horses pushing it along, but a sharper, lighter chassis and highly effective brakes means that what it loses on the straights, it makes up in the bends. The middle pedal benefits from new calipers and genuine discs front and rear, with Goodridge lines and ATE fluid working Porterfield R4-S pads.
Both cars run Bridgestone SO2s on their 7 and 9 x 16-inch Fuchs, with 225/50s on the rear of the green car as opposed to 245/45s on the blue. On these slightly damp country roads, I can discern no difference.
Driving Anil’s car is a delight: gorgeous red-backed Recaros from a 968 Club Sport and a Martini Racing Momo wheel give the Carrera real sporting comfort. Deleting the electric seats and internal sound deadening removed a lot of weight, and the RS carpet set and door panels are pointers to more purposeful intent. Big brother will receive the same treatment some day soon.
Apart from the Momo steering wheel, the red-piped grey-green sports trim of Shirish’s car has rightly been left unchanged. RGA in Vauxhall recently resprayed one side of the Carrera, partly thanks to an errant Land Rover driver. A new near side wing and fog delete front panel, smooth engine cover, work to the passenger B-post and fresh paint over the lot cleared out what was left in Shirish’s piggy bank. The driver’s side will be done when funds are replenished. “No rush,” says Shirish, “Anil and I have plenty to keep us busy in the meantime.” ‘Us’ is the operative word.
On the subject of rivalry, the great Luciano Pavarotti once wonderfully observed: “The rivalry is with ourself. I try to be better than is possible. I fight against myself, not against the other.” The same can be said of so many of the brothers I know who share this love of classic cars.
My own younger brother lives in another country, but his friendship, support and opinions are very important to me. So it is with Anil and Shirish. If there is rivalry, it is low key and outside the core relationship; differences are accepted with mutual respect. This is brotherly leapfrog; co-dependence based on the realisation that the key to all successful friendships is to keep them moving forward. If there’s a better case to be made for sharing classic Porsche ownership, I’ve not seen it yet.
by John Glynn | Jul 27, 2009 | Classic Porsche Blog, Project Cars
My ‘new’ old 911 has finally been dropped to my buddy in San Francisco who will hang on to it until Mr Lipman and I get back out to California in September. Good to get an objective opinion on condition and some recent photographs of the car. Sounds like I did another nice Porsche deal, so I’m grateful to both seller and my mate for helping me out long-distance.
I was told it had an oil leak and some trans woes and this has been confirmed by my wonderful amigo. Here’s what he says:
“Initial impression is, as you said, you can’t lose. Paint is rough, sure. But seems solid and runs great. I mean really runs good, I was surprised, frankly. The motor just zings, no funny business at idle, or mid range or at 5k, which is as far as I took it. I couldn’t get the engine lid open to poke inside, but I’m sure it has some leaks, there was a bit of hot oil smell. We’ll find out about all that. But it really runs good. Rides good, no weirdness to the ride or steering, brakes seem fine too.
The only thing is something with the clutch, which is more like an on/off switch than a clutch. Is fully engaged about two inches off the floor, and is very heavy. Once or twice it seemed to stick as it was released. But no judder, and nothing weird from the back end, so my gut feel is rather than anything with the clutch itself or flywheel, it’s all under the floorboard with cable and adjustment and helper spring. Or lack thereof. No graunching from the gears, but you have to be quite slow and deliberate when going in gear, especially one and two. So, hopefully, rather than anything really in the gearbox with synchros or clutch itself, it’s all under the floorboards. You do get sort of used to it after a few minutes, and can proceed fairly normally from stop lights, but your left leg would be very tired after a day’s driving with the way it is at the moment.
But man, it runs good. Those 3.0’s are just great motors. And a lot of other things aren’t bad at all, like the dash pad is perfect. Windows work well too, which is handy. Seats aren’t bad for support, tach or speedo needle doesn’t wiggle, it’s still a good German car in a lot of ways. Stereo doesn’t work (so he says), clock doesn’t work, drivers arm rest and door pocket are missing. Headliner is a little saggy around the sunroof. But good bones. And that’s with California frame of reference. Hell, if you painted it and fixed the dents and redid the wheels and freshened up the interior, it would probably be a show winning SC in Europe. Great car for the money, and great candidate for a backdate hot rod. Did I mention it runs good? It really runs good. More later.”
I am delighted with this quick warts-n-all report. It shows that when you have been buying cars for 20 years, much of it for a living, you can still sniff out a bargain from just a few lines of text and some 6 year-old pics. I’m glad to hear it makes good power. The Euro-spec rebuild through SSIs should give it about 220 bhp, which is loads in a fairly light SC.
The oil lines and thermostat are fairly recent so I doubt it is leaking there. There is a spot of oil under the car in the first pic – if that is from mine, then it looks centre to left side so maybe a return tube or similar, or just a connection. It’s done few miles since a full rebuild so doubt it is anything serious like a case leak (which would be dead centre), but if it is then no problem. Could even be a leak from up top travelling down and dripping off the bottom.
Sounds to me like the clutch has maybe had it which again is OK and was factored in. I’ll get a kit and sort that out with a new cable too. Might even get it whizzed over to the local top Porsche shop and have them do it for me. Then myself and Jamie can have twelve days of SC fun before shipping home a reliable daily-ish driver.
Come on!
by John Glynn | Aug 5, 2008 | Classic Porsche Blog
Year after year, car guys drive to the same places with the same people. Why do they do it? Discuss.
Rolling into the Chunnel car park and finding twenty of your friends waiting for you in similar cars is a great feeling. Camaraderie engulfs the entourage, with anticipatory awe permeating the queue of cars headed for check in.
Off the train in la belle France half an hour later, we gathered to discuss the route options. A red Carrera GT filling up next door was a positive Porsche portent, with the same good vibrations evident throughout our journey west to Rouen and south towards Sarthe. An unbelievable amount of rain means marine terminology is required to describe making way along the A28, each 911 creating a huge rooster tail of spray. France is famed for its joi de vivre though, so torrential rain and a few wet clothes do not dampen our high spirits.
A sodden autoroute might seem an odd place for an epiphany of sorts regarding the ritual annual migration of some automotive enthusiasts. But as my eager 911 surged through the tidal pools of standing water, with my buddy’s black Speedster in our wake, headlamps ablaze through a dull blanket of mist, it suddenly dawned upon me that I could quite happily see this picture in my rear view mirror once a year without regret. At last I was beginning to understand.
The sun was waiting for us in Le Mans itself, and our weekend was a blast. For me, those four days of fun, and the time spent touring Northern France the following week, bore more than a passing resemblance to Big Brother, the Channel 4 TV show now in its ninth season. Many say the BB format has had its day, but this epitome of people watching on the small screen continues to attract 3.3.million viewers an episode, the unpredictability of unscripted drama proving hugely fascinating for many devoted fans.
Big Brother game rules ensure a similar format year to year, but as time passes, the increasing familiarity between contestants and the ever-evolving narrative regularly ups the entertainment ante. The complex interactions taking place between the housemates is constantly tested and twisted by the programme directors, in their quest to stimulate the participants, and engross the addicted audience.
Fresh casting and plot twists are core to the attraction of Big Brother and annual road trips too, as participants change and events are never entirely predictable. Only those with no sense of adventure could be expected to stick to a convoy ad nauseum, so our flock of Porsche fans would regularly split up and regroup during the week, despite there being no prearranged plan. Sitting in a service station with little brother and my Speedster-driving amigo on the way down, it was not in the least bit surprising to see six of our pals arrive in the peeing rain and park up alongside our cars. Our dishevelled drive down set a precedent of voluntary participation; perfect for the relaxed holiday we had in mind.
Once comfortably ensconced in our rented house, we found we were sharing the facilities with another British classic car club, who had been coming to the same place for ten years. Their experience of events during that time gave them some stories to tell, mostly centred around how the new English landlord at the local auberge wasn’t a patch on the old French one. Sadly, we saw no reason to disagree.
As the weekend unfolded, a sizeable amount of personal detail was made public, much of it not repeatable. We learned for example, that one of our number restricted his motorway driving to maximum fourth gear, in case he had to accelerate suddenly. We also discovered that we had a master chef in our midst, who amazed us all with a sublime spag bol following two nights of negativity at the hands of the aforementioned hotelier. On the other hand, a certain someone levered himself into our happy house on a pity card and then wriggled vigorously when faced with his share of the bill: inappropriate behaviour noted for future reference!
My previous visit to the Classic had been with six other 911 friends who left us with good memories. Although none of them were with us this time around, it was a delight to see the first timers enjoying the event and each other’s company so heartily, every step of the way. It was also a boost to have additional help close by, when mechanical issues arose for some cars during the trip.
Our party included new friends from down under, who really immersed themselves in the proceedings. The new owner of my old SC Cabriolet also joined in, and it was great to spend quality time with all these guys. The village Bastille Day celebrations on our last night together as a group were the perfect finish to what had been an exceptional weekend.
The cultural phenomenon that is Big Brother will continue to inform our consciousness long after the show has been thrown on the televisual scrap heap, so I hope that our car communities continue to embrace interactive road trip versions for many years to come. It may transpire that not all of our jaunts will be as enjoyable as this last one, but when the rewards are as substantial as they have been on the last two events, it’s worth the slim risk of an occasional disappointment. Roll on 2010!
by John Glynn | Mar 19, 2008 | Classic Porsche Blog, Project Cars
I have a bit of a 944 fetish going on at the mo, but in my defence it is all related. I have always dreamed of buying classic Porsche 944 Turbo, and watching 944 prices with the SC Cabriolet sale in progress led me to A911 DRY. Bought that and it needed interior and ideally a running car to sort the non-running problem. So I bought the 924 for the trim and the red 944 for the running gear to do some swapping.
No sooner have I agreed a deal on the red 944 than up popped an 1986 Porsche 944 Turbo at Autofarm for £1750. I thought it was an OK buy at that until I saw it at £1250, which is a steal on Fuchs even with a knackered engine. Emailed them and arranged to go and see it next day. Was waiting around for a look for a while but anyway, I eventually got to see it in the dark in a barn with only a candlelight torch to help!
The car presents itself well. Fuchs very nice, with track rubber and the half-leather sports logo trim also very nice. Panel gaps on one side not so nice, so I assumed it had been in a fairly decent smash a while back. Mentioned this to Josh and he said he didn’t think so, thought it was a nice honest car. I bid for it assuming it was on the hit list and the bid was accepted – it is really just in the way down there. Paid a 10% deposit and agreed to pick up at the end of the month, when my Cab has left a space.
Came home and HPI’d it: it was declared a Cat C total loss in 1997. Still I think it’s a good buy at what I paid, even with the damage and the engine in bits. Might make a nice article in the future about buying and repairing damaged Porsches versus buying a nice clean original car.
Went to see Bob Watson today for a chat, and he has plenty of 944 Turbo bits inc crank and oil pump etc. We will use his man to sort the cylinders out; some scoring on one apparently, though I didn’t see the engine either! Bob reckons 300bhp is fairly easy on any 951, I will shoot for 250 on mine. It is more of a family Porsche to replace the Cabriolet than anything, though it’s bound to see the odd French/Belgian track.
Anyway, the aim is to be back down to two Porsches by June at the latest, but we’ll see how that works out. Some pics of my new 951 are here: a long exposure makes it look much brighter than it was in there.
