The 1991 disaster with Footwork
If Porsche returns to Formula 1, it will hope not to repeat the failings of the overweight, underpowered, unreliable V12 of 1991
Should the post-2020 Formula 1 technical rules take a shape that proves sufficiently attractive, there’s a good chance that a Porsche engine will be on the F1 grid in 2021, after a break of exactly 30 years. The company has won in its own right as well as building the Tag-badged engines that powered Mclaren to serial success in the 1980s. But its most recent effort in 1991, with an uncompetitive and badly flawed V12, lasted less than half the season and proved so catastrophic that only now is Porsche taking a serious look at grand prix racing once more.
The 3512 was Weissach engine wizard Hans Mezger’s response to F1’s switch from turbo to normally aspirated power. Porsche had originally entertained hopes of persuading Mclaren to use it, and the team was given a briefing in 1987. “One of the Porsche engineers had this briefcase, and he took out this single drawing, which was the general layout of the engine,” recalls former Mclaren man Steve Nichols. “He started unfolding and unfolding. I looked at this thing and thought ‘how bizarre’. It was like they’d taken two of our little V6 engines, and stuck them together. I came out of the meeting and said to Ron Dennis, ‘Sign the Honda contract.’ It just looked like it had no future…”
Porsche disagreed, and over the next couple of years it looked for a new partner. The man with overall responsibility was Ulrich Bez, at that time executive vice-president of R&D.
“Hans Mezger was one of the ‘Popes’ of F1 engine design,” Bez recalls. “I just simply trusted in his knowhow, capability and capacity when he said he had a great idea for an engine which could compete in F1. So, I looked for financing, because this was a time when Porsche was not as profitable as it is today. We didn’t have the money to do it ourselves.”
Onyx came close to signing up before walking away, and Bez turned instead to Arrows boss Jackie Oliver, coincidentally a factory Porsche driver back in the 917 sportscar era. He had recently pulled off a coup by selling his team to Japanese entrepreneur Wataru Ohashi, while staying on to run it under its new Footwork name.
“They approached me after the teams they wanted didn’t want to do it,” Oliver recalls. “We had two choices. There was the new small Ford HB V8, or the Porsche. I told Ohashi of those two options, and he said, ‘Porsche!’ I said, ‘It costs more money.’‘it doesn’t matter…’ Stars came into his eyes…
“I came back from Japan with the money and Ohashi’s enthusiasm, and we’d got into the contract before I’d even gone to Weissach to ask Hans Mezger what the engine was like.
“There was nothing to see. All I could see was Mezger being pushed to meet the date in the contract that wasn’t feasible.”
Concerned, Oliver astutely managed to add an annex to the original contract headed ‘Engineering Goals’, which included five clauses setting out the expected performance – initial overall power (750bhp-plus), the shape of the power curve, fuel consumption, maximum weight (pegged at 150kg) and anticipated future power figures. As 1990 went on, and more information gradually emerged from Weissach, Oliver and his chief designer Alan Jenkins realised that they were in trouble with the basics. When they finally got their hands on it the weight came as a shock – it was way above the
150kg stipulated in the extended contract.
Everyone put on a brave face when the 3512 was officially unveiled at Ohashi’s home race at Suzuka in October. In November, at Oliver’s instigation, Jenkins wrote to Mezger outlining his concerns, gently suggesting that with Footwork’s help Porsche should already start from scratch on a secondgeneration 1992 engine. The letter got short shrift from
Mezger. Later, Jenkins would resort to borrowing a Cosworth DFR from Brian Hart and having it weighed in front of
Porsche’s engineers at a Paul Ricard test.
The team started 1991 with a modified A11C chassis, originally designed by Ross Brawn in ’89. Testing proved disastrous – the V12 was not only gutless, it was hopelessly unreliable, beset with a fundamental oil-scavenging issue. Drivers Michele Alboreto and Alex Caffi were left floundering. Alboreto somehow qualified in Phoenix, only to retire early.
“I took the responsibility, because I was head of engineering,” says Bez. “On the other side if I would have questioned Hans Mezger’s capability at the very beginning, and said, ‘This is not going to go anywhere,’ who would have believed me? He was a hero, so we protected him, not blaming him.”
The new FA12 chassis was readied for Imola, but matters weren’t helped when Alboreto had a huge testing accident when the front wing failed. Caffi then crashed in practice in Monaco, breaking the unloved engine clean off the back of the tub. Alboreto and the injured Caffi’s replacement Stefan Johansson struggled through two more dire weekends in Canada and Mexico, where the oil issue proved especially problematic through the banked last corner.
Jenkins tried address the problem with the help of engineer Wolfgang Hatz, and they were forced to hide in the factory at the official end of the Weissach working day, dodging the
“They were forced to hide in the factory, dodging security”
security guards, so they could work on a rig. The F1 project came to a grinding halt shortly after a test where Footwork ran an old A11B with a DFR – and it went considerably quicker than the Porsche went on the same day.
“It was a demonstration to embarrass Porsche and say, ‘Look, we’re in trouble with this,’” says Oliver. “I think on reflection it was probably a bit too aggressive. I would have liked Porsche to have a second bite at the cherry, but I don’t think they wanted to. I don’t think there was any road back for them.”
Porsche had even sent someone to Osaka to meet Ohashi, tell him that his team was the problem, and suggest that he take his money and the engine to Jordan. Ohashi stuck to his guns and reported the conversation to Oliver, pointedly asking him to pass on a ‘no thanks’ message to the management. The Footwork/porsche relationship had completely broken down.
“I went with my lawyers to Weissach to talk about breach of the contract,” says Oliver. “And not complying with the terms of the annex, with the idea of getting a moratorium on the payments until such time as the engine was sorted out. That meeting didn’t go very well, and they said, ‘You’re in breach of contract, and we’re putting an end to the arrangement with Footwork because of you, Mr Oliver.’”
For the remainder of 1991 Footwork raced the FA12 with DFR power. Porsche canned the 3512 and subsequently accepted it hadn’t delivered on the contract, as Oliver recalls: “That little annex got Ohashi all his money back and saved me from bankruptcy. All of those five criteria were not met.”