MOTOR SPORT FLASHBACK
A much-advertised racing car hoax
Kiwi Bill Stone was like many aspiring young racers — quick, good with his hands, and skint. He became a disciple of that wily old fox Roly Levis, a contender for the best driver we’ve produced who never tried his hand in Europe. Roly’s cars became Bill’s cars, initially a Formula Junior
Cooper that Denny Hulme had brought back with him after his Driver to Europe experience in 1960, followed by a Brabham BT6, also an ex-junior, which Bill spread across half of Timaru in a massive accident on the road circuit in February 1967. Stone was fortunate to walk away from this and had a quick-witted marshal to thank, because the fire was something Bill was still talking about right up to his death in 2012. He rebuilt the Brabham and raced it during 1967/’68. He then sold it and headed off to try out the gypsy-like life of the European Formula 3 (F3) scene, in which the starting money from the last race helped fund you to the next one.
As he knew Brabhams, and their models were generally near the pointy end of F3 grids, he acquired a nearnew model and a VW Kombi. His first stop was Denmark in a race won by future hero Ronnie Peterson. In an interview in late 2011 he told me, “Howden [Ganley] had suggested Scandinavia was a good place for start money with less chance of damage than taking on crazy guys in the
Italian or French F3 championships.” For 1969, Bill decided that the Brabham needed to be replaced. “Howden had his name down for a new Brabham, but I couldn’t afford brand new. When a Mclaren M4A became available, nationalistic pride took over… What a mistake!” The fledgling Mclaren team had built the M4A for the new 1.6-litre Formula 2 (F2) series in 1967. It was competitive against the offerings from Lotus, Lola, Matra, and Brabham but developed a reputation for flexing. The model was an F3 option in 1968 but rarely challenged the front of the field. However, for Bill, that was surely something he could overcome. “It was a Mclaren and my heart ruled my head,” he said.
THE BIGGEST NAME IN RACING CARS
In addition to future Formula 1 (F1) drivers already mentioned (Peterson and Ganley), F3 in 1969 also gave up names like Emerson Fittipaldi, James Hunt, Tim Schenken, Reine Wisell, Jean-pierre Jabouille, Patrick Depailler, Jacques Laffite, and François Cevert — all in new purpose-built models. Even a superstar was going to struggle in a two-year-old design intended for another category against opposition of the quality that abounded in 1969. It didn’t take many races for Bill to
“When a Mclaren M4A became available, nationalistic pride took over… What a mistake!”
conclude his error: “I’d have been better off sticking with the Brabham.” Bill’s mechanical abilities became well known in the tight-knit motor racing community, and he was approached to build a F3 car for a new group of hopefuls comprising the highly rated ex-mclaren designer Robin Herd; Max Mosley — a barrister who had been competing near the back of F2 fields Welshman Alan Rees, who’d been near the front of F2 fields; plus occasional racer and engineer Graham Coaker. A blend of their initials resulted in the name of their new enterprise: ‘March’. “I had no idea at the time that March would go on to win the Indy 500 and become the world’s biggest manufacturer of racing cars,” Bill said. “I was simply building a car to Herd’s design in a shed at Graham Coaker’s house.” So I guessed Bill would have thought the possibility of having five March F1 cars on the grid for the opening round of the next season’s world championship a long shot? “Absolutely!”
As far as Bill was concerned, it was a means to an end so that he could continue his quest for F1 glory. He knew that racing car manufacturers came and went and that the recent introduction of Formula Ford had seen an eruption of new entities. Some had some good designs and hung around for a while but most didn’t. “It was all very hush-hush. Some of the guys had jobs elsewhere so secrecy was vital.” Fellow Kiwi Pete Kerr was also enlisted. He’d worked as a mechanic for Rees in F2 and was also highly regarded as an engineer and as someone who could, as Bill put it, “keep schtum”.
F1 AMBITIONS
The four hopeful directors were already thinking F1 even before the F3 car was finished. Bill recalled: “I think [Jackie] Stewart was their first choice, but he was pretty committed to Tyrrell. The other two they were chasing were [Jochen] Rindt and Chris [Amon].” It was known that the Austrian was concerned with the reputation Lotus had for flimsiness and even part way into 1969, his first year with the famous team, he was looking around for alternatives. Mosley flew to Rindt’s Swiss home to outline their aim of building a team around him. As Chris told me more recently, “They talked to me about a dedicated package, a driver car team”, but Rindt baulked at the proposal for March to also build customer cars and concluded that it made no sense to leave Lotus for an outfit that was nothing more than an idea, with an F3 car under construction at a residential address. It was as a result of Rindt’s dismissal of their offer of the car Bill was building that it acquired a nickname: “I vill not drive a car built in Grem’s shek” — Graham’s shed gave rise to ‘the Gremshek’ and the chassis plate was stamped ‘S1/69’, the S being for Stone.
It’s more official title was the ‘March 693’, and by the time it made its debut in the autumn of 1969, in the hands of Peterson, it went well enough to finish third, a little way behind Ganley and right alongside Hunt.
Kiwi Pete Kerr was also… highly regarded as an engineer and as someone who could, as Bill put it, “keep schtum”
The secret was now out, and, indeed, big promises were made that included both F1 and Can-am for 1970, less than six months away, plus F2, F3, even Formula Ford. Sceptics abound in motor racing, in about the same numbers as big talkers who work on the ‘over-promise and the money will flow’ policy. Surely no organization, even with the boy-wonder designer Herd and the highly prized services of Amon, could go from concept to F1 car in a matter of months, even aside from everything else they proposed. The acronym that generated the name of the new manufacturer might have come from their various surnames, but all this big talking soon had people wondering if it really stood for ‘Much Advertised Racing Car Hoax’.
MARCH IN MARCH
Fifty years ago, at the opening round of the 1970 World Championship in South Africa on 7 March, the five March 701s were driven by the two works drivers, Amon and Jo Siffert; Mario Andretti in a semi-works STP car; and the Tyrrell-entered versions of Stewart and Johnny Servoz-gavin. Stewart and Amon set identical fastest practice times, which meant that this new upstart constructor had already beaten Ferrari, Lotus, Mclaren, Brabham, and the rest. In the race, Jack Brabham won the last Grand Prix (GP) of his wonderful, but perhaps under-heralded career, meaning March didn’t quite get a dream start. But then Stewart and Amon won the two non-championship races in England, and the Scot also won the Spanish GP. Amon came close at Spa (where he set the eternal F1 lap record on the ‘old track’), and that was about it for the 701, its potential for further development spent.
It made no sense to leave Lotus for an outfit that was nothing more than an idea
March continued in F1 until the end of 1977 but built a magnificent reputation for F2/F3 production cars under the watch of Bill Stone. Indianapolis beckoned in the ’80s and March succeeded there too. Of the original four directors, it soon became just Herd and Mosley. They remained friends long after March was sold and Herd’s death in 2019. Former president of the FIA Max Mosley has recently been the subject of a warts-andall documentary that covers everything from the fact that Hitler was a guest at his parent’s wedding, right through to the dominatrix bust that dominated headlines in 2008. Appropriately, the movie, simply titled Mosley, is set to launch in ... March.
THE STARCH
Bill Stone may have come to the realization that F1 glory would not come his way, but he never, even in his 70s, lost the desire to race. He was racing an indecently quick Morris Minor in the UK prior to returning to New Zealand for good. But 50 years ago, on the back of building the first ever March, combined with the new company’s appetite to build a car for every category known to man, there was, inevitably, a Formula Ford. One soon had Bill’s name on it but, unimpressed with the design, he started making his own modifications. The resulting car was much more Stone than it was March.
There was only one thing to do, and so during the latter part of 1970, Bill was entered in ‘the Stone-march’, otherwise and colloquially known as the ‘Starch’.