THE HISTORY OF WILLIAMS
Renault engines and dominance: part three of our seven-part series on Williams F1
A new alliance with Renault and the rapid development of high-tech electronic suspension control systems opened the door to absolute dominance for Williams in the early 1990s. But this set off a technological arms race which prompted a sharp FIA clampdown…
More significantly, few teams have ever been so much better than their rivals as Williams was in 1992, as it hit a seam of form that would make it the driving force of the decade. Out of the 20 world titles for constructors and drivers available in the 1990s, Williams would claim nine, Mclaren seven, Benetton three and Ferrari just one.
By now well established as a Formula 1 superpower, the final year of the 1980s marked the next step for Williams, as the stability of a symbiotic partnership with Renault shot it through the next nine seasons. At the same time, years of investment, hard work and canny recruitment allowed Williams to harness a raft of technologies that would change the game, to the point where the governing body outlawed it all. On the one hand, that hurt after so much grind to unlock F1’s perennial quest for the ‘unfair advantage’; on the other, it was the ultimate compliment. Williams had simply become too good.
The source of that sweet status can be traced all the way back to 1984, when brake and clutch specialist AP approached Williams with an active ride system it had originally developed for road cars. Patrick Head charged his deputy Frank Dernie with responsibility for a project that would initially run in an FW09, the team’s ungainly first
TEN RACE VICTORIES, SIX TEAM ONE-TWOS, 15 OUT OF 16 POLE POSITIONS AND A CAR THAT LED 84% OF THE SEASON’S LAPS. THERE ARE OTHER EXAMPLES THAT EXCEED SUCH STATISTICAL DOMINANCE, BUT NOT MANY...
Honda-powered contender, in the winter of 1985. But Williams had a lot on its plate in the mid1980s, as the Honda partnership began to bear fruit. It took until 1987 for the active ride system to be deemed ready for an FW11. The original target was to simply improve an F1 car’s ride and allow for softer suspension settings, but by now the penny had dropped that aerodynamic load distribution was the most significant gain. Always alert to a technical advantage, Nelson Piquet embraced the concept and took on testing duties, while team-mate Nigel Mansell – still haunted by unhappy active ride experiments during his time at Lotus – showed little interest. Piquet would give the system a winning debut at Monza that season, beating an ‘active’ Lotus driven by Ayrton Senna, but subsequent tests on bumpier circuits highlighted its imperfections, including a tendency to generate ‘bounce’ in faster corners. It was dropped, for now.
The following FW12 for 1988 was the first Williams designed specifically as an active ride F1 car, as the team explored methods to grab back performance after the loss of Honda’s all-powerful turbo V6 for a humble normally aspirated Judd V8. But again the system’s imperfections made it troublesome and by the British Grand Prix –
where Mansell finished second in the rain – the team had reverted FW12 to ‘passive’ spec.
The Judd was a necessary stop-gap in the wake of the Honda divorce. New opportunities were there to be forged ahead of the looming ‘atmo’ engine rulebook that would cast aside turbo power in ’89. Renault had single-handedly triggered a slow-burn F1 revolution when it first ran its ‘funny little’ turbo engine at Silverstone in 1977 – and yet despite mixing all the right ingredients to deliver a batch of world titles, the French car maker had always fallen short. Deflated, Renault folded its works team at the end of 1985, reverting to engine supplier status only for a year before quitting completely. But it was only licking its wounds. By early 1987 a new 3.5-litre normally aspirated engine programme was under starter’s orders and in June 1988 an inital three-year deal with Williams was struck. In Viry-châtillon, Bernard Dudot rubbed his hands at the chance to work with Patrick Head.
As Mansell headed for Ferrari, it was left to veteran Riccardo Patrese and a new signing, Thierry Boutsen, to lead the charge in 1989. The Belgian had grown in stature at Arrows and Benetton, but this was a relatively low-key line-up after the sparks of the Mansell-piquet years. No bad thing as Williams knuckled down for a new climb to the summit.
After pre-season testing in a modified FW12C powered by the new high-revving RS01 67-degree V10, Williams appeared only second on pace to Mclaren’s Senna-prost super-team, powered by Honda’s potent new V12. In Brazil, as Patrese started a record-breaking 177th grand prix, the Italian qualified on the front row, led and even set fastest lap before retiring, as Mansell pulled off a surprise win on his debut for Ferrari.
The Williams-renault partnership was properly consummated with a team one-two in a wet Canadian GP, Boutsen scoring his first F1 win after Patrese gave way with a broken underfloor.
In Hungary, Patrese took pole and led until lap 52 when a stone punctured a radiator. That one stung. But momentum was building, and was further boosted when the evolutionary FW13 finally came on line in September. Patrese and Boutsen scored a two-three at Suzuka after Senna and Prost’s infamous collision at the chicane, then Thierry made the Williams a winner with another impressive wet-weather performance in Adelaide. Despite his lack of wins, Patrese still outscored his team-mate over the season to finish third behind the warring Mclaren duo, while Williams-renault claimed a comfortable runnerup spot, well clear of Ferrari, in the constructors’ standings. On the downside, it was a whopping 64 points shy of the dominant Mclarens. Williams was still in the foothills of its F1 mountain.
In 1990 Patrese would win his first GP for seven years, at Imola, scene of a painful throwaway back in 1983 when his own countrymen had cheered
as he crashed. Redemption was sweet. Then in Hungary Boutsen delivered a virtuoso performance – in the dry – holding off his friend Senna to lead from lights to flag and win by 0.288sec. But in ultimate terms, it was a disappointing campaign, the team slipping to fourth in the constructors’ standings behind that brash, pesky bunch at Benetton and still a gaping 64 points short of champions Mclaren. Still, away from the races significant groundwork was being laid.
First, the active ride programme was given new impetus under an ambitious team led by promising engineer Paddy Lowe, Dernie having left for Lotus in 1988. The control systems were now being designed in-house and with the evercheerful Mark Blundell doing most of the leg-work in the cockpit, progress was made.
Second, in June 1990 Adrian Newey joined the team, initially as chief aerodynamicist. But after just one week Head promoted him to chief designer, clearly recognising the talent he’d just recruited. Newey had cut his teeth at the Fittipaldi team in 1979, then progressed to March for whom he drew the 83G sports car and a pair of potent Indycars. After an educational year engineering Mario Andretti, March co-founder Robin Herd gave this bright spark the keys to the F1 programme, now running under the auspices of Leyton House. Newey made mistakes during his time in turquoise, but his 881 was a true groundbreaker in shrink-wrapped form. Subsequent cars lost momentum, although Ivan Capelli almost sensationally won the 1990 French GP – but by then Newey was already hard at work at Williams.
Strip the FW14 of its livery and it would look for all the world like a Leyton House. The model marked the first collaboration between the young visionary and the fierce engineering logic of the inspirational Head. Newey relished working for and with a man he still holds in the highest regard.
But the climb to the summit was not yet over, even if it was beginning to loom into view – especially with the return of the moustache in ‘Red Five’: Mansell was back. His love affair with Ferrari had proven both predictably passionate and destructive, quickly flickering out in the wake of Alain Prost’s arrival in 1990. Mansell flounced into retirement after dropping out at Silverstone, as Prost rubbed it in with victory. Nigel had already spoken to Williams about a return, but Frank was eyeing Senna – until the Brazilian re-committed to Mclaren. Williams then ‘signed’ exciting firebrand Jean Alesi – only for the Frenchsicilian to make the biggest mistake of his life by falling for the lure of Ferrari. Suddenly Williams needed Mansell, Mansell needed Williams – and they soon fell back into the old routine.
But not before Patrese gave Mansell a bloody nose. The Italian outqualified the Englishman for the first seven races of 1991, as Williams ironed out the unreliability of its new semi-automatic transmission. Mansell was caught out by it in the most cringeworthy fashion in Montréal. He’d dominated with a performance that foreshadowed much that was to come, but chose to showboat by waving to the crowd at the hairpin. He hadn’t changed down, revs dropped below 2000rpm, and the small battery fitted didn’t have enough voltage to keep the engine running. It stalled in neutral, with no hope of finding a gear or restarting… and Nigel’s old nemesis Piquet (of all people!) swept past to win for Benetton. Newey, expectant of his first F1 victory, was distraught, but only had to wait for the next round in Mexico to taste champagne. Notably, it was Patrese who headed Mansell for a special one-two.
Thereafter, Mansell’s quality shone through and he won three on the trot, in France, at Silverstone in front of his increasingly rabid home crowd, and at Hockenheim. But Senna’s Mclaren had broken
THE CLIMB TO THE SUMMIT WAS NOT YET OVER, EVEN IF IT WAS BEGINNING TO LOOM INTO VIEW – ESPECIALLY WITH THE RETURN OF THE MOUSTACHE IN ‘RED FIVE’
the back of the championship by winning the first four races. He was too far out of Mansell’s reach. The Mclaren ace hit back at the Hungaroring and Spa, Mansell defeated the Brazilian with some style at Monza, but then came Estoril and the ignominy of a Williams pitstop catastrophe when an untightened wheel nut ruined his day. Patrese won, but for Mansell his title long-shot had just stretched further away. He would famously go wheel to wheel with Senna to win in Spain, but at Suzuka a lame moment of understeer left him picking gravel. Senna was champion for a third time.
But once again good work away from the races boded well. Now with Damon Hill on testing duties – Blundell had chosen to ‘race’ a hopeless Brabham – the active programme was building a head of steam. Over the winter the team worked on bullet-proofing reliability, shelving the FW15 to focus instead on perfection in a B-spec FW14 – and the ultimate Williams was born.
No one, not even Senna, Mclaren and Honda, could live with Mansell and Williams in 1992. Five of his nine wins were achieved straight off the bat, and he only lost Monaco to a suspected puncture and slow pitstop. Still, his frantic chase of Senna provided the year’s standout highlight. ‘Nige’ swept to another home win at Silverstone, circulating almost 1-2secs a lap faster than anyone for most of the weekend, to Head’s lasting satisfaction – and in Hungary, in his 176th race and 13th F1 campaign, Mansell was crowned champion. It was churlish to begrudge him. Yes, he’d enjoyed a monumental car advantage (even if he wouldn’t admit it), but he’d also driven brilliantly to make the most of it.
The car itself was hailed a modern wonder, loaded with tech: four-channel anti-lock brakes, traction control, a perfected six-speed transverse semi-automatic gearbox and that long-gestation active-ride suspension system. But it was the traction control that was most contentious, being described as the easiest 0.5-0.75sec gain in lap time any team could hope to find. In 1991 Patrese’s edge over Mansell had been found in the slow corners. Now his light-touch advantage was wiped as the drivers planted their right feet and allowed the electronics to find the grip. Additionally, Mansell now revelled in the active
ride, his old prejudices long forgotten. The brute strength in his forearms on the tiny steering wheel helped – no power assistance back then – but so too did his faith. A slight delay in turn-in feedback created a floating sensation that Patrese couldn’t get his head around – but Mansell would just commit, trusting his clever car to catapult him through and out of a corner on to the next straight. It’s here that Mansell earned the respect some still deny him.
But for all the wonders on track, the games off it were causing the kind of grief Frank and Patrick just couldn’t stand. Drivers: are they really worth the pain?
On sabbatical after his sacking from Ferrari, Prost was working hard to get into the best F1 car on the grid for 1993 – and it didn’t hurt that Frank had always been a fan. Mansell, on his way to a certain title and still sore from 1990, was ruffled by Alain’s confirmation – and then Senna threw in his oar by offering to drive for free! In their midst, Patrese signed for Benetton, certain he’d be left standing in the high-stakes game of musical chairs – but at Monza was left kicking himself when Mansell flounced, announcing his ‘retirement’ again as negotiations with Williams broke down. Patrese had given Benetton his word – and being a gentleman felt bound to it. A fine five-year stint at the team was over.
As Mansell crossed the Atlantic for a stunning campaign in Indycars, F1 fans contemplated who would land the most coveted drive in F1. Prost had a veto on Senna (fair enough, given what had passed between them)… so attention swung to the test driver.
Damon Hill hadn’t even won a Formula 3000 race, but earned respect at Williams over his many thousands of testing miles. Being the son of the late Graham Hill added unwanted attention, but the British tabloids loved it, quickly swapping their outrage for the team that had ‘ousted Our Nige’ to demanding Williams ‘give Our Damon the drive’. Frank and Patrick took little notice – then hired Hill anyway. With Prost in the other car, there was little to lose.
To some, canny politics bought Prost his fourth world title before he’d turned a wheel, as Senna – who had almost signed for Williams for 1992 – raged in a Mclaren now powered by a relatively humble customer Ford V8. There was the embarrassment of sodden Donington at the track’s one-off European GP in April. But in an FW15C that simply honed perfection, a driver of Prost’s quality was always going to prevail. The team loved working with him as he picked his way to seven wins and the Renault-powered title he’d missed out on a decade before. Meanwhile, Hill led at Silverstone before his engine blew, endured the agony of a puncture while in sight of a win at Hockenheim… then blazed to an unlikely hat-trick in Hungary, at Spa and at Monza Already 33, the man with a zero on his nose had repaid the faith.
But two ‘inevitables’ were on the horizon: with Prost’s title assured and the Frenchman tiring of F1 politics, the path was clear for Frank Williams to finally hook Senna, more than ten years after he’d given the Brazilian a trial run in an FW08C at Donington. Also his team’s hard work was undone as the ‘gizmos’ – active suspension, traction control, ABS – were outlawed for 1994. But with Head and Newey, strength in depth, awesome Renault power and the fastest racing driver in the world Williams surely had nothing to fear. What could possibly go wrong?
HE SWEPT TO ANOTHER HOME WIN AT SILVERSTONE, AND IN HUNGARY, IN HIS 176TH RACE AND 13TH F1 CAMPAIGN, MANSELL WAS CROWNED CHAMPION