MOTOR SPORT FLASHBACK — LE MANS ’66 SPOTLIGHT ON KIWIS RESTORED
AS THREE KIWIS SHARING FORD’S HISTORIC LE MANS VICTORY DIDN’T FIT THE MOVIE NARRATIVE, MICHAEL CLARK EXPLAINS WHY FORD V FERRARI ’S HERO WASN’T REALLY ROBBED. CHEATED, YES BUT ROBBED, NO
The movie
Ford v Ferrari, the movie about the 1966 24 Hours of Le Mans, premiered here in early November but, as of the time of writing,
I am yet to see it. There has certainly been a great deal of discussion and I’m already aware of websites outlining a number of inconsistencies with the truth. The reality of course is that it’s ‘based on a true story’; it’s not a documentary. Plus, Hollywood never lets facts obstruct a true story. Forget that Enzo Ferrari never visited the track where his cars first won in 1949 and that the hero of the film, Ken Miles, was not burnt to death; that’s not how it works. Arguably the finer details are only really of interest to motor racing historians and, because of the heavy Kiwi involvement in that race, New Zealand fans. However, I was still surprised to receive a phone call from TV3 asking if someone could talk to me about what really happened, so as to protect the legacy of Bruce Mclaren and Chris Amon who shared the winning car, and Denny Hulme, who co-drove with Miles and finished a few metres behind.
The ‘back story’ is that the
Ford Motor Company, having believed it had a deal with Enzo Ferrari to purchase the scuderia, got more than a little annoyed when ‘the Old Man’ elected to sell to Fiat instead. That was the catalyst for the Ford GT40, a car that more than 50 years on is still so gorgeous that to my eye only the Ferrari P4, the company’s 1967 prototype sports car, just exceeds it.
Larger-than-life Texan Carroll Shelby and Bruce Mclaren became an integral part of the development of Ford’s Le Mans challenger as it grew from 4.2 litres to 4.7, in small block form, before the introduction of serious horsepower, and weight, with the 427-cubicinch (seven-litre) big block. There were two GT40S with the big block for the 1965 race. Those were the days when two drivers shared the driving duties, and running at 10/10ths for 24 hours, as is generally the case today, was unheard of. Both seven-litre Fords that year had a Kiwi on the driving roster, with Bruce sharing with Ford/shelby favourite Miles, and Chris with the 1961 world champion Phil Hill.
Eight GT40S
Not only did both big block Fords fail in 1965, but so did most of the 289-cubic-inch (4736cc) versions, and the works Ferraris. In a two-horse race, it was there for the taking
but victory eventually went to a private and older Ferrari, the ‘nearly as gorgeous as a P4’ 250LM, a 3.3-litre V12, driven by the most unlikely pairing ever to win an around-the-clock race: Jochen Rindt and Masten Gregory. Ford returned in 1966 determined to bury Ferrari. This time there were eight of Ford’s even more developed Mark 2 GT40S, Mclaren and Amon having played their part in the evolution of the model from muscle car to racing car. This time the two Kiwis would be paired together in a car painted black with two
silver stripes and the logo of the recently formed Bruce Mclaren Motor Racing. Miles, a California-based Englishman from the Midlands, had started the 1966 endurance racing programme in the best possible way by sharing the winning car in the 24 Hours of Daytona. Next came victory in the 12 Hours of Sebring, meaning that he was on track to be the first man to win ‘the big three’ in one season. His co-driver for the two Floridian enduros, Lloyd Ruby, had been hurt in a crash at Indianapolis and his replacement came in the highly capable form of Denny Hulme.
So, eight seven-litre Fords and 16 drivers who included three Kiwis. Ferrari’s challenger for 1966 was the 3978cc P3, unsurprisingly a V12. Although four were entered, only two arrived. However, Ford’s weight of numbers could not guarantee victory, let alone the crushing domination the company desired.
With six hours to go, only three of the big Fords were still running and it was critical that they not race each other and thereby risk putting unnecessary pressure on the remaining runners.
“Go like hell!”
The Ford hierarchy proposed a dead heat between the two cars still on the same lap: the black car of Mclaren and Amon, and the pale blue one of Miles and Hulme. After initially giving this suggestion the nod of approval, the authorities then decided that the black car would still be the winner by virtue of having travelled a fraction further during the 24 hours because the Kiwi pair had qualified fourth and started further back on the grid whereas their rivals for victory had started from pole. During the race, Mclaren had a huge decision to make. The other leading Fords were on Goodyears whereas Bruce and
Chris were both Firestone-contracted drivers, but the tyres on their GT40 weren’t doing the job. Despite the fact that Firestone was largely funding Bruce’s new organization he made the call and Goodyears were fitted.
Chris, who was now driving, got the clear message from the senior Kiwi: “Go like hell!”
And so he did. The time that had been lost was recaptured and, as Chris subsequently told me, “We both drove like we were in a Grand Prix”.
Bruce was in the car at the end and Chris, nervously watching from the pits, recalled, “I wasn’t sure who’d won”.
There has been conjecture as to whether Bruce accelerated at the end to ensure victory or Miles purposely dropped back out of utter frustration at being told to hold position and thereby being denied the triple in one calendar year. Ultimately, what happened is largely irrelevant because a pair of Kiwis prevailed
and another shared the second-placed car. It was a wonderful day for New Zealand motor racing. Yet before the days of 24-hour television feeds, the internet, and other modern means of communication, this outstanding feat probably did not get the recognition it deserved. And from what I’ve heard of the film’s conclusion, that’s still the case today.
The Capella
My favourite New Zealand special turned up at the superbly organized MG Classic at Manfeild in mid November looking every bit as magnificent as the first time I spied her at Teretonga several haircuts ago. Perhaps it’s my affection for Indy roadsters that is part of the attraction to the Capella II because there is a certain similarity with the slightly offset seating position, tyres that look like they wouldn’t be out of place on a Boeing, and the triple SU carburettors. Of course the engine is mounted ahead of the driver, so it’s slightly surprising to discover the car was first raced in 1965, by which time the movement to a rearmounted set-up had been in vogue for nearly half a dozen years.
Bill Barber built the Capellas on his farm at Glencoe in Southland, named as a result of his keen interest in the solar system. The first Capella was a fibreglass sports car with a sidevalve Ford V8 while the third Capella, a scaleddown Ford GT40, was never completed.
A little bit of everything we love
The second Capella is everything we love about Kiwi one-offs: Renault Dauphine steering rack, Vauxhall ball joints, Jaguar rear end with inboard brakes, four-speed Zephyr transmission, and home-made shifter. Power comes from a Mk3 Zephyr straight-six mounted on a 30-degree incline and fitted with the all-important Raymond Mays alloy cylinder head. It wasn’t the original power plant but the supercharged Vanguard had a habit of blowing up at inconvenient moments.
Julie and Grant Clearwater have owned this beauty since around 1990. I watched Grant going great guns on a damp Manfeild Circuit Chris Amon. Just as I was working out some words in my head for this issue, the car snapped sideways and for a moment my heart sank. The pilot’s wife, watching from only a few metres away, clearly thought the same thing judging by her animated expression but the highly capable chauffeur gathered it all up and continued even faster.
Grant has many treasures but it is obvious that the Capella II has a special place in his heart.
“It’s full of very innovative ideas and parts, some of which were very new to the market in 1964. Having the engine set over at 30 degrees allows the driver to sit very low beside the transmission,” he explains.
As for Bill Barber: “He was, and still is, well ahead of his time,” says Grant. “He still builds aeroplanes today.”
It was a delight to see the Capella again. Grant told me, “We last had her at Manfeild in 1997 and today we’re eight-tenths of a second quicker!”
That’s serious progress over 22 years.
Kiwi racers
A couple of issues ago I made reference to how much an American friend was enjoying the copy of Historic New Zealand Racing Cars I’d taken him as a gift. The author Steve Holmes must be tickled pink to discover that the highly acclaimed English publication
Classic & Sports Car has given his book a more than half-page review in its December issue, has also chosen it as Book of the Month, and is calling for volume two.
VWS galore
Pushing a pram along Tamaki Drive in Auckland while being pummelled by a fierce off-shore wind had a delightful ending when we happened upon a car club gathering at St Heliers on a Sunday in early November. A wide range of Volkswagens was on display — most beautifully presented and their proud owners only too happy to chat. As car club officials seemingly like to do, they had grouped vehicles by type, meaning that the more modern GTIS and VR6S were slightly dislocated from the old Beetles, Kombis, Fastbacks, and a solitary Karmann Ghia.
Our nearly three-year-old grandson was
especially taken with the Kombis and we were delighted to be given a tour of the Brazilian version owned by Jeremy Parkinson, who produces the Radio New Zealand’s First Up programme. Jeremy’s Kombi has a 1.4 engine and a most distinctive grey livery. His kids are looking forward to a summer of camping in his recent acquisition and one hopes that this exposure of our kids and grandkids to the car hobby will keep clubs like this and others alive for decades to come.
Grand Prix time
For many years, January meant crowds flocking to the New Zealand Grand Prix (NZGP). In March we will look back at the first race to carry that title because it will be 70 years since some 20,000 people turned up to Ohake. Once the event moved to Ardmore, the date was the first or second Saturday of January.
The field 60 years ago was the best yet. Newly crowned world champion
Jack Brabham was taking on Stirling Moss with Bruce Mclaren the other leading contender. The Kiwi was the meat in an Aussie sandwich, with Brabham winning and Bib Stillwell third.
A decade later and the 1970 Grand Prix (GP) was round two of a new era for the Tasman Series because the majority of the noise now came from these new Formula A cars. Instead of world champions and household names, the field comprised more Americans than we were used to seeing and Kiwis now had a serious chance of winning. Our leading contenders were Graham Mcrae in a five-litre Mclaren– Chev, and Graeme Lawrence who’d gambled on the reliability of the smaller 2.4-litre V6 Ferrari that Chris Amon had used to win the 1969 Tasman. The gamble paid off because, although Australian Frank Matich won the NZGP in his Mclaren ‘A car’, Lawrence won the title.
By 1980, F5000, as the Formula A cars became known, had been killed off and Steve Millen won the GP in a Formula Atlantic, or Pacific down here, Ralt RT1 in a two-heat affair with young Kenneth Smith winning heat one. Speaking of Kenny, the word at Manfeild was that the Lola T332 with which he has dominated Historic F5000 racing over the past few years has been sold to a museum. Given he’s only 78, I have no doubt that retirement is far from his mind.