TARGA! TARGA! TARGA!
Keith Seume recounts the story of Porsche’s Targa models
Porsche’s innovative Targa has, in certain markets, proved to be the unloved member of the family – a model which purists frequently scorn, and which was until relatively recently consistently valued at up to ten, or more, per cent less than a comparable coupé. On paper it makes no sense, for as far as most other marques are concerned, convertibles of any kind usually command a premium over the equivalent coupés. Look at the 356 market: Cabriolets, Roadsters and, most notably, Speedsters are valued far higher than equivalent coupés. So, then, why has the 911 Targa often been held in such low esteem?
Throughout 356 production, sales of soft-top Porsches remained relatively consistent. From the start, Porsche had included a convertible model in the line-up, be it the simple canvas-topped Speedster, or the more sophisticated weatherproof design of the Cabriolet. Although sales of the convertibles never quite matched those of the coupés, they sold in sufficient numbers to be profitable – as a consequence, there was always a soft-top in the Porsche line-up. But not when the 911 and 912 were launched.
Even though, in its final year of production, sales of Porsche’s 356C coupé accounted for a substantial 83.5 per cent of sales, convertibles – which accounted for the remaining 16.5 per cent – were regarded as an important part of the product range. If nothing else, they helped persuade potential owners to venture into the showroom. But when the 911 was first launched in 1964, there was not even a mention of a cabriolet version…
In Excellence was Expected, Karl Ludvigsen describes the internal wrangling that led to the ultimately controversial design of the Targa. ‘It was logical that an open version of the 911 should be developed,’ he says, ‘Less certain, however, was just what form such an open car would take. Should it be a variant of the coupé’s form or should it be a pure cabriolet, with special lower body panels of its own at the rear?’
This problem was one with which Ferdinand ‘Butzi’ Porsche struggled for some time. He preferred the idea of a true purpose-built convertible with a ‘notchback’ profile, rather than a soft-top that simply mimicked the coupé’s profile. ‘There has never been a successful rear-engined cabriolet with a true fastback,’ he believed.
But not everyone at Porsche shared his views, for the bean-counters on the board of management felt that it would be a waste of money to invest in new press tooling specifically for one low-volume model. They believed that sales of a convertible 911 would only account for a relatively small percentage of turnover so, to make things profitable, it
would be necessary to use as many of the coupé’s body pressings as possible.
This created an interesting problem for Butzi, as he knew that simply slicing the roof off the 911 would create an unacceptably weak structure. And while many other convertibles were known to be torsionally-challenged, such a prospect was anathema as far as Porsche was concerned. The solution was both simple and brilliant – and controversial – in equal measures. It included adding a substantial roll-bar tying the two sides of the car together at what was described as ‘shoulder level’.
Butzi Porsche said that there were two advantages to this design: ‘First it meets US competition requirements and second, this type of convertible can be controlled better when closed, whereas most tend to fill up like balloons.’ This reference to meeting competition rules is interesting, for nobody these days ever talks of using a Targa for racing, when a coupé makes a more obvious choice. This feature did lead, however, to Porsche marketing the Targa, as the model was to be known, as the ‘World’s first safety convertible’.
But why the moniker ‘Targa’? Harald Wagner is credited with coming up with the name. Wagner worked at Porsche as a marketing expert, responsible in later years for arranging many sales to ‘special’ customers. He got the call from Butzi and found himself in the Porsche Experimental workshop looking at what he described as ‘two 911s that had been defaced by giant metal stirrups’.
Wagner was unimpressed with what he saw, but adds ‘We had to sell the car and to do that we needed a name. So we started with what we would call a brainstorming session these days. Someone had the idea that we should name the car after a racetrack but half the names had already been used and the others didn’t sound right: Daytona, Le Mans, Nürburgring… We discussed “Targa Florio” but we were worried that customers might start dropping the first word, and abbreviating Florio to “Flori”, which sounded a bit effete. So then we thought, what if you took the “Florio” away completely?’
That just left ‘Targa’ – a name which has now entered the language as a generic term for any car with a removable roof panel. Oh, and Wagner swore he didn’t know that the word means ‘shield’ in Italian, although it’s rather fitting for a Porsche that has gone down in history as the first ever ‘highsafety’ convertible.
But what about that trademark brushed stainless-steel cover to the roll-bar? Butzi Porsche is the man you can congratulate (or blame) for that decision: ‘That idea was mine’, he is quoted as saying, ‘I do think the roll-bar has a function and adds stiffness – which is why it should be a different colour from the car.’
Still to be resolved was the matter of the roof panel – and the rear window. If the Targa was to be considered a true convertible, then it would have to have a removable roof section, and a similarly removable rear window, to allow a through flow of air. Incorporating a zip-in plastic back window solved the latter design problem, but the roof section caused a deal of head scratching. To begin with, it was proposed that there should be two roofs supplied: one from rigid plastic and a lightweight fabric one, which could offer weather protection in an ‘emergency’ situation, such as a sudden downpour of rain. Rather like the flimsy roof supplied with the much later Boxster Spyder.
Unsurprisingly, wind-tunnel testing proved that a soft fabric top would tend to get sucked outwards at speed,
creating a bulge above the driver’s head. The solution was to offer a single folding roof section of rubberised fabric, with scissor-action supports which could be clipped into place in the roll-bar and windscreen frame.
Prior to going into production in December 1966, Butzi Porsche made a statement which, on reflection, suggested damnation with faint praise: ‘I think it looks better than one first thinks – and could be better still. Believe me, we weighed every consideration when planning the Targa, and we have great hopes for it.’ Not the words of someone who had 100 per cent belief in his own design.
Butzi’s apparent concerns were shared by Porsche’s marketing department, which questioned the Targa’s styling, in particular the way the trademark flowing lines of the 911 coupé had been lost. Initial dealer orders were not strong, and Porsche only built seven Targas a day, compared with 55 coupés. But within a short while it became evident that demand was outstripping supply. Production was stepped up to 10 per day simply to keep pace with the West German market, where the Targa soon accounted for an impressive 40 per cent of sales.
There were a few drawbacks to the Targa design, one being that the model weighed some 50kg more than the equivalent coupé. It was also clearly less rigid – scuttle shake was a noticeable, if not a major, problem. The zip-in rear window was a cause for concern in markets with a more temperate climate, for the factory suggested that owners didn’t try to reinstall the rear window if the ambient air temperature was lower than 60°F (15.5°C). The plastic ‘window’ would contract with the cold, making it virtually impossible to zip it back into place. There was also the matter of poor rearward vision due to distortion while looking through the clear plastic, a problem which reared its head again with the launch of the Boxster some three decades later.
This was unacceptable as far as the marketing department was concerned, and the plastic rear window was eventually replaced by a solid glass version in January 1968. Fixed it may have been, and therefore depriving passengers of a through-flow of air when the top was removed, it was a far more practical design in every sense. Apart from offering better rear vision, it also helped support the roll-bar better, helping the flexible roof panel achieve a tighter fit.
By 1970, the Targa accounted for almost one third of all 911 sales. In the true spirit of Porsche, refinements were constantly made to several minor details in an effort to make a great car even better – or, in the case of the Targa, more windproof. Greater attention to detail, more robust marketing and a wider acceptance that this was indeed a ‘real’ 911 meant the Targa would soon account for more than 40 per
cent of sales. Interestingly, the Targa was not offered in righthand drive until the autumn of 1972, with deliveries to the UK not available until February the following year.
For the 1974 model year, the flexible roof panel was replaced with a rigid version, which could be stowed away in the front luggage compartment when not in use, although it was still possible to specify the older folding design if required. Carrera Targas were sold with a blacked-out Targa roll-over bar to match the rest of the ‘stealth’ body trim, a feature which did not appear on mainstream Targas until the 1977 model year.
The same basic design remained in production into the 964 series, but by then sales of the 911 cabriolet far exceeded those of the Targa. As a consequence, when 964 production drew to a close in December 1993, the Targa was dropped from the Porsche line-up – the new range of models (the 993series 911s) consisted solely of coupés and cabriolets. At least, to begin with.
However, let’s take a quick step back in time to 1989. This marked the appearance of a rather strange – some say ugly – concept car, penned by Harm Lagaay, Porsche’s design chief. Based on the underpinnings of the 964 Carrera 4, this vision of what a future 911 might look like was given the name ‘Panamericana’, after the long-distance road-race in Mexico, La Carrera Panamericana.
Having worked at Porsche from 1971 to 1977, Lagaay moved to Ford and then to BMW, where he teamed up with
Ulrich Benz. The two moved to Porsche in January 1989, a time at which Lagaay says ‘There was absolutely nothing going on…’. Lagaay set to and commenced on the design of what was to become the 993, but also called on the resources of British-born Steve Murkett (who later went on to style the Cayenne SUV) to design a radical buggy-like 911. Why? More than anything it was to demonstrate that things really were happening behind the scenes at Porsche despite what detractors may have insinuated.
The Panamericana was like nothing before (or since), and while still recognisably a Porsche for the 1990s, certain of its styling features never made it into production. Among these were heavily cut away wheel arches and its rather angular body lines (especially when viewed from the side). However, there was one feature which did capture the styling department’s collective imagination: the roof. Or rather, lack of it.
With its open roof, heavily raked wrap-around windscreen and angular side glass, the Panamericana looked as if it would lend itself to a full-length sliding roof. It didn’t have one, of course, but the overall styling hinted at such. Ferry Porsche is said to have hated the car, even though it was given to him as a gift to mark his 80th birthday – and he was not alone in his views, for many others within Porsche expressed their dismay at Murkett’s design. But that roof had put down a marker…
Fellow Brit Tony Hatter was largely responsible for the design of the new 911, the 993, its flowing and somewhat
“THE TARGA WAS NOT OFFERED IN RHD UNTIL AUTUMN 1972…”
voluptuous lines meeting with approval in a way that
Murkett’s Panamericana clearly had not. Launched in 1993, the new Porsche was offered as a coupé or a cabriolet – but not as a Targa.
It was another six years before this style was added to the line-up, but it was worth the wait. The new model was quite unlike its 964-based predecessor, with a huge panoramic glass roof which slid back under the bonded-in rear window. The design and fabrication of the roof assembly was handled by Webasto, long famous for its aftermarket cloth sunroof conversions, as well as auxiliary petrol heaters (which were offered as an option on early 911s).
Webasto made the sliding roof assembly and all associated hardware as a ‘bolt-on’ unit which was then installed on a specially strengthened cabriolet bodyshell. The design, which had clearly been inspired by the Panamericana, was universally praised for being both stylish and practical. It did, however, end up weighing an extra 30kg compared to the 993 coupé.
Despite an excellent sales record over the years and various models, there are still many who denigrate the Targa for its looks, and regard it as a soft-option compared to the coupé. Most detractors, it is fair to say, have probably never driven one and so do not appreciate the ‘pros’ which outweigh many of the perceived ‘cons’.
Without doubt, the biggest problem as far as early Targas are concerned is rust – they are undoubtedly worse in this respect than coupés as water can enter the body structure by several routes, not least through the roof seals. Worst of all, though, is rust around the bottom of the expansive rear window. Once it gets hold here, it allows more water into the interior, more rot, more expense to put right. As a consequence, a higher percentage of early Targas have been scrapped over the years than coupés of the same age.
But while the styling may not necessarily be to everyone’s taste, some finding the Targa too angular compared to the organic flowing lines of the coupés, many would agree that the model represents the perfect compromise between the solidity of a coupé and the al fresco nature of a cabriolet. Maybe it’s time to give one a try…