Classic Cars (UK)

Bristol Fighter

The 525bhp V10 Fighter could have revolution­ised Bristol Cars but only an estimated 12 were built. We drive a developmen­t car and meet the men who worked with it

- Words EMMA WOODCOCK

Atailor-made supercar, that’s the Bristol Fighter. Designed around the only clean-sheet chassis design ever employed in the 75-year history of Bristol Cars, the 2003 to 2011 model wraps an aircraft inspired, handmade cabin and an uprated 525bhp variant of the 8.0-litre Dodge Viper V10 inside an unadorned body that minimises lift. Taller and narrower than its mid-engined competitor­s, the Fighter isn’t an obvious beauty but it rewards curiosity. Just a dozen Fighters are currently on the road and Bristol rarely supplied cars for magazine road tests, so today we’re sampling the factory demonstrat­or to discover what makes the Fighter so special. I duck under the gullwing door and… clout my head against the carbonfibr­e frame. The Fighter sits 10cm higher than the Viper but it still cuts a low silhouette. I vault my left foot into the commodious footwell, grab the interior door handle and bring the door down as I fold myself into the driver’s armchair. The cabin cossets with buttersoft leather, suede and tinted turned aluminium, broken only by a large custom steering wheel that juts straight at my sternum.

The long bonnet commands the view ahead, its edges marked with a certainty its mid-engined competitor­s can’t match. Both Lexan side windows hinge open at the press of a button – system designer Jeff Marsh took inspiratio­n from the Lancia Stratos – and I twist the key. Some 488 cubic inches of Detroit muscle erupt to a fat-edged 700rpm idle that sends the gearlever shaking. A twitch of throttle and the whole car rocks on its springs as the exhaust rises to an industrial blare. Wilton carpet? Meet Woodward Avenue…

Urban driving reveals a car at odds with its soundtrack. Styled after a light aircraft, the tall glasshouse floods the cabin with light and the set-back A and C pillars present no problems in spotting the car’s extremitie­s. Manoeuvrab­ility is leagues above a Lamborghin­i Gallardo, the Fighter combining 75% Ackermann steering geometry and a correspond­ingly hatchback-tight turning circle with a bodyshell some 13mm skinnier than a 997-gen Porsche 911. Six-inch ground clearance means speed bumps are seen more than felt and Bristol redesigned the clutch position to reduce pedal effort, so only jolts of low rev transmissi­on backlash puncture the serenity.

The might of the V10 is never too far away. A foray past 2000rpm unleashes a seamless torrent of thrust and it pays to be cautious. I can reel in any ordinary car with ease but even half throttle is too much in these greasy conditions, the Bristol feeling wrongfoote­d and heavy when traction starts to ebb away. Soft springing dulls initial feedback from the rear suspension to compound the problem, though Kensington High Street patrons could always specify higher spring rates if they wanted a sportier drive.

Most owners opted for the smoother damping fitted to this Fighter and when the road gets bumpy I start to understand why. Only the very worst potholes shake back through the pre-stressed spaceframe chassis and the Bristol rides with a four-square composure that outstrips an Aston Vanquish to unlock minor roads. Combined with an engine that delivers 350lb ft from tickover, the fluid ride works with the shrunk-back exterior dimensions to create

‘I can reel in any ordinary car with ease but even half throttle is too much in these greasy conditions’

a supercar that’s always accessible. I slot third over Salisbury Plain and the Fighter surges into a comfortabl­e, elastic flow.

Shifting up allows the Fighter to demontrate the same cruising credential­s as its Filton forebears. Though the Tremec six-speed manual is externally identical to the Dodge Viper unit, Bristol tailored the ratios to its own needs and top gear pulls 40mph per 1000rpm for languid long-distance driving with a burbling soundtrack. Now I can appreciate the wide seats with their unintrusiv­e bolstering, the extensive sound deadening and the copious space above and around me. Bentley and Maserati tourers from the same era feel claustroph­obic by comparison.

The car clearly wants more. Where a Noughties Porsche or Aston Martin filters out feedback when you’re making steady state progress, the unique Fighter wheel is always alive in my hands with reports of cambers, crests and surface changes. The seatbase keeps talking to me too with a clarity that belies the comparativ­ely svelte 1540kg kerbweight. When the road starts to bend again I drop all pretences, and four gears. Then pin it.

What starts as a seamless, reserved force swells into an elastic pulse as I pass 2500rpm, the rate of accelerati­on growing for as long as I can keep the pedal down. Bristol specified its V10s with more aggressive camshafts and this Fighter feels good for all 525lb ft. The soundscape transforms too, shifting from a blare to a guttural roar that pulls pressure from the air, and blossoming as the air intakes lead a layered symphony around 3000rpm. By 3500rpm the car is shrinking straights with perfect composure, demanding a light touch to make the most of a quick off-centre response that darts

‘Initially the carbon weave was visible through the paint, so Bristol invested in tooling-grade carbonfibr­e instead’

the Bristol into every apex. Feedback floods back as the car squats down over its rear tyres too, so I can collate the messages from the seat and the steering wheel to really understand the road.

Tighter corners arrive promptly, letting me lean into the Fighter chassis. The front end never loses interest and the car floats over crests and surface changes, the all-round double wishbones and coilover dampers soft but retaining close control. The low-mounted engine and 48:52 front/rear weight distributi­on cut inertia too, so it soon feels like the car is pivoting in front of my feet. Every input strikes home just a blink before I experience it at my perch far back in the wheelbase, but the waves of informatio­n coming back from every control surface make it easy to recalibrat­e. It’s rewarding, exciting and staggering­ly similar to a Caterham Seven.

Intricate handling doesn’t stop the Fighter feeling monumental. Tight in the horizontal plane but far-reaching in the vertical, the gearshift moves with a tough, mechanical action that demands a fast hand for clean shifts, while all three pedals arc so far into the footwell that I have to push decisively to get the best from the engine or the tireless AP Racing brakes. Downshifts need a shrewd kick of the throttle too, lest the rear driveline hiccough in complaint. Aromas of hot oil and the occasional spit of high-octane waft into the cabin with each stretch of the 8.0-litre V10; waves of heat strobe through the sills, seatbase and gearlever as I thunder on.

A refined tourer and a potent sports car all at once, the Fighter was created by ex-brabham Formula 1 engineer Max Boxstrom, who initiated the supercar project during his time with Bristol Cars.

‘Max was commission­ed to update the Blenheim four-seater but he told our chairman Toby Silverton that it’d be cheaper and simpler to build an all new car,’ says former Bristol works manager Jeff Marsh. ‘Everyone got enthusiast­ic about creating a two-seater like the old 404.’ Boxstrom designed the fundamenta­l Fighter shape and rollcage-equipped chassis before leaving the company.

Three new designers and a stylist were hired to replace him. The Fighter looked even better when their work was done but manufactur­ing complexity increased. ‘The original concept had straight shutlines but the production car has angled doors which are far more difficult to align,’ Jeff explains. ‘Max suggested sideexit exhausts too but the new designers wanted them to exit at the rear bumper, which meant they had to go through the sills.’ Designing the system took several months, Jeff eventually placing the catalysts at the front of the sills for accessibil­ity and routing the exhaust pipes through the rear wheelarche­s.

Equally thorough research was invested in the air intake system, which is crafted from lacquered carbonfibr­e. Bristol used a Dodge Viper testbed for the work and created a ram air effect that increases peak power by 8bhp. The first prototype Fighter followed in 2003 and quickly benefited from a revised clutch, canted gearlever and inertia reel interior doorpulls, the latter at the request of managing director Tony Crook. Toby Silverton worked on the interior himself, personally laying out the aircraft-inspired minor controls.

Production began in 2005 with a series of developmen­t cars that include this Bristol, chassis number BRISFIT300­205. Extended welding was added to cure chassis flex from the second car onwards and the original aluminium doors were swapped for forwardthi­nking carbonfibr­e. Bristol worked hard to render the material invisible. ‘We discovered that Formula 1-style carbon twitches too much under heat,’ says Jeff. ‘The fibres in the doors were moving when exposed to bright sun after being attached to the car, causing the weave to become visible through the paint. Bristol invested in tooling-grade carbonfibr­e instead, which is more stable.’

Chassis 300205 was road registered in May 2005, and gained antiroll bar adjustment­s, new bushes and revised rear shock absorbers soon after. Finished in the Porsche colour ‘956 Pewter’ with a set of optional split-spoke 19 inch alloys, it quickly became the public face of Bristol. ‘We used this Fighter and a blue car as our demonstrat­ion models,’ says Richard Hackett. Now the director of marque specialist SLJ Hackett, he promoted the Fighter for Bristol Cars from 2007 onwards. The car appeared in Arab News, Arabian Knight and

EVO over the next two years. ‘I remember driving 300205 to one test where the writer called it a brute in a suit! That resonated with me. It always was a very exciting car to drive but a comfortabl­e one too.

‘We often kept the silver Fighter below the Kensington showroom and used it for customer test drives,’ he continues. ‘Everyone who got behind the wheel loved it. Most of them were car enthusiast­s too, so we’d go out down the A4 to our factory in Bristol.’ Toby Silverton used this car extensivel­y too, until a British customer persuaded the firm to sell the silver Fighter in 2009. The new owner kept it for two years before returning it to Bristol Cars. ‘He bought a new Fighter to replace it. To the best of my knowledge 300205 is the only one ever to be part-exchanged with us.’ It also graces the cover of Christophe­r Balfour’s 2010 tome Bristol Cars: A Very British Story.

Sadly, the factory and the Fighter had few chapters left to write. In 2011 Bristol

Cars went into administra­tion, before developmen­t of a twin-turbocharg­ed 1012bhp Fighter T model could be completed. The company continued – with German collector Marcus Englert buying the pre-owned silver Fighter direct from Bristol in 2012 – but no further cars were produced. Today only a handful of Fighters are on the road, though the number could soon rise. Marque specialist SLJ Hackett is working with a private enthusiast to finish the four part-complete chassis Bristol Cars left behind when the company finally closed in March 2020.

It’s not hard to see the appeal – the Fighter is an intriguing machine that takes time and experience to learn. It doesn’t have the badge appeal and screaming top end of a Ferrari 599 or the convention­al good looks and easy controls of an Aston Martin Vanquish. Those cars have tighter shutlines, fancy automated manual transmissi­ons and cabins without a single exposed screwhead, but they were built by the thousand.

I’d rather have the Bristol. From the wingless low-drag shape to custom aluminium switchgear built to last the life of the car, the Fighter is one final, individual stand against the mass market. It didn’t succeed but it’s a valiant effort. I drop the windows one last time and ride the torque past 2500rpm. The dials twitch overhead, the wraparound windscreen floods with late afternoon sun and the serrated exhaust pummels in from both sides. The Bristol Fighter is like flying without wings.

‘We kept it below the Kensington showroom for test drives. Everyone who got behind the wheel loved it’

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 ?? Photograph­y JONATHAN FLEETWOOD ??
Photograph­y JONATHAN FLEETWOOD
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 ??  ??
 ??  ?? Supercars are rarely this comfortabl­e
Supercars are rarely this comfortabl­e
 ??  ?? Roof-mounted engine hours dial mimics aircraft practice
Roof-mounted engine hours dial mimics aircraft practice
 ??  ?? The cabin is a curious mix of craftsmans­hip and borrowed plastic
The cabin is a curious mix of craftsmans­hip and borrowed plastic
 ??  ?? Overhead buttons look good but are tricky to use
Overhead buttons look good but are tricky to use
 ??  ??
 ??  ?? Standard 18in alloys could be swapped for 19s
Standard 18in alloys could be swapped for 19s
 ??  ?? Dodge Viper V10 tweaked for more bhp
Dodge Viper V10 tweaked for more bhp
 ??  ?? The Fighter beat the gullwinged Mercedes SLS AMG to market
The Fighter beat the gullwinged Mercedes SLS AMG to market
 ??  ?? Tapered tail minimises wake
Tapered tail minimises wake
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 ??  ?? As a bookend to Bristol Cars’ curious existence, the swansong Fighter embodies the marque’s spirit perfectly
As a bookend to Bristol Cars’ curious existence, the swansong Fighter embodies the marque’s spirit perfectly

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