GREAT EXPECTATIONS
Recalling the Carrera 3.2’s debut.
By the time the Carrera 3.2 arrived in September 1983 for the 1984 model season, I’d survived in the world of motoring journalism for four years. I considered myself something of a veteran, even. I’d become an expert on many cars, although those only of a certain kind. For example, I could tell you the exact specification differences between a Ford Escort, a Vauxhall Astra, a Mazda 323 or any other comparable hatchback. I had an informed opinion on the controversial ‘jellymould’ Ford Sierra, a risky move for its maker given that it replaced the perennially best-selling Cortina. I’d seen ‘Metromania’ at close hand, the tabloids whipping up a fervour for this mediocre supermini on the back of it being British and the fact Lady Diana Spencer owned one. I knew what it felt like when a gearbox fell out of a Talbot Solara (a bland, badly built medium-sized saloon from Chrysler that was going nowhere) driving up the M1 motorway.
My brain was so numbed by continual exposure to the humdrum side of cars — this being the accepted fate of those way down the magazine food chain — that I didn’t fully understand Porsches, which in those days existed almost in a parallel motoring universe few could visit. As told in the first of this series of reminiscing articles, I’d become familiar with the 911 SC run by my well-heeled publisher, and I’d even been lucky enough to sample a 928, but this was the limit of my understanding of how Zuffenhausen operated.
SPOT THE DIFFERENCE
Thus, I was puzzled when the Carrera 3.2 arrived looking all but identical to the SC it replaced after the latter’s half-decade production run. If ever a model from an illustrious marque slipped on to the market unnoticed, it was this one. I was used to volume car makers invariably adding frilly bits to their new models at every turn in order to make them stand out from rivals. I couldn’t understand why Porsche hadn’t done this. The answer, of course, was that Porsche didn’t have to.
In the pre-yuppie years, 911 customers tended to be decently remunerated enthusiasts (as opposed to ‘loadsamoney’ status seekers) and were interested in technical developments that would make the sports car go quicker and handle better. Few wanted it to look different to the old one. With this in mind, what actually
was the difference between the SC and Carrera 3.2?
The key change was an engine capacity increase from three to 3.2 litres, the new version of the flat-six producing 231bhp at 5,900rpm and 210lb-ft torque at 4,800rpm, increases of thirteen and eight percent respectively. As before, the manual gearbox was fivespeed (the notorious 915 unit). Other refinements over the SC comprised the fitment of Bosch Motronic engine management, hydraulically operated engine cam chain tensioners and enlarged brakes. A new style of road wheel was introduced in the form of the fifteen-inch ‘telephone dial’ rim. Cars for the US market had significantly upgraded body strengthening to meet local road safety regulations.
As with the SC, the Carrera 3.2 was offered in regular and Sport Equipment form, the latter factory variant proving popular and featuring sixteen-inch Fuchs wheels, firmer suspension, a deeper front spoiler and a prominent rear wing, similar to the 911 Turbo’s rear adornment. A car so equipped wasn’t necessarily a Sport model (the name they were generally known by), though — these various items were available to Porsche showroom customers as individual options.
When launched in the UK, the Carrera 3.2 was priced at £21,500 (which, when indexed to 2021 money, is around £73,000). The Targa variant was listed at the same price, the Cabriolet (available from the outset) was an extra £1,000 and Sport models commanded £2,000 more. There was a clear difference in pricing between the 911 and the 944, which was over £6,000 cheaper. Later in the decade, however, the top model 944, the Turbo SE, rose to over £4,000 more than the basic Carrera 3.2. At that point in time, marques from the Land of the Rising Sun were preparing to enter the sports car market against the 944. Revitalised versions of the rotary-engined Mazda RX-7 and Toyota Supra would soon arrive to cause Porsche a headache, but the 911 had no true rivals, a situation that, arguably, hasn’t changed.
Speak with enthusiasts of air-cooled Porsches today and you’ll probably find sharply divided opinions
BY THIS TIME, THE HIGH PERFORMANCE CAR MARKET WAS FUNDAMENTALLY CHANGING IN NATURE
Below Punchy 3.2-litre flat-six was claimed by Porsche to be eighty percent new when compared to the three-litre unit powering the SC
regarding the SC and Carrera 3.2. Some say the former, with its mechanically regulated Bosch K-jetronic fuelling, is a more lithe and responsive car. Indeed, this feeling has grown to such an extent the SC no longer lags the Carrera 3.2 as far as values on the used car market is concerned. Others say they prefer the added torque and slightly more refined nature of the later 911. Thirtyeight years ago, when 911s were to be respected, not eulogised as they are now, there was no such debate.
QUESTION OF SPORT
When given a break from comparing the 30-50mph times in third and fourth gears of the Peugeot 205 and Daihatsu Charade, and attempting to minimise mistakes in the magazine’s huge data section, I drove the Porsche Cars GB press fleet Guards Red Carrera 3.2 Sport (one of the many wearers of the famous ‘A 911’ registration) for a photo shoot. I wondered what the difference between this car and the SC was — it’s quite possible that because the SC and Carrera 3.2 I experienced were brand new, they had yet to loosen up and reveal their true character. To me, they felt similar.
That particular photo shoot was enjoyable, taking place on a dry and sunny day in rural Wiltshire. Working on a car magazine was less pressurised than it seems to be nowadays, with plenty of time allowed for shoots, and a pub lunch on such jaunts practically built into our National Union of Journalists agreement. A few days later, a concerned call came from the Porsche Cars GB press office, located in Reading. The voice on the other end of the phone wondered why tufts of earth were found on the car’s underside. One too many overenthusiastic three-point turns for the photographer’s panning shots was my excuse.
By this time, the high-performance car market was fundamentally changing in nature, thanks chiefly to Audi. With its Quattro, the four-ringed brand demonstrated in the most effective way possible how useful permanent four-wheel drive could be on a turbocharged road car. BMW’S amazing M5 also made headlines — it was as fast, refined and practical as it was understated. In other words, by the middle of the 1980s, you could get Porsche performance with four doors, comfort and space. That said, all of this seemed to more intensely
define the appeal of the 911 as a raw, demanding and, in many ways, infuriating car. With the engine noise and the model’s unique styling, you could see and hear what you were paying for. And if the SC had been memorable introduction to the 911 for me, cementing Porsche’s flagship model as a member of my dream garage, it was driving the Carrera 3.2 that made me determined to buy a 911 to call my own, albeit one of the older and cheaper SCS you could easily find in the mid-1980s.
In 1986, I came close to buying a 911. It was a choice between a leggy SC and a new, unsullied-by-humanhands BMW 316. I chose the latter, afterwards regretting and applauding my decision depending on my mood.
With the 911 saved from the Reaper’s scythe by 1982, Porsche regularly updated the model until 1989 when, after production of close on 81,000 units, it gave way to the 964. For 1986, the older 911 gained uprated anti-roll bars and suspension springs, electrically adjusted and heated mirrors as standard, as well as optional central locking, while the fascia switchgear was tweaked slightly. Larger air vents were also installed. So far, the changes amounted to marginal improvements, but the 1987 season model is the milestone many prospective buyers aim for. It was from then the Getrag-built G50 gearbox was fitted, replacing the 915. Accompanied by a larger, hydraulically (rather than cable) operated clutch, the G50’s larger casing necessitated changing rear suspension mounting points. Incidentally, you can tell a G50 by the reverse position, which can be found to the left and next to first.
Fuchs In autumn wheels 1987, (the classic changes 911’s majored traditional on equipment. iconic rim design) returned as standard equipment to replace the ‘teledials’, while electric seat adjustment and headlamp washers were also thrown in. For the final year of production, sixteen-inch Fuchs wheels became standard and an integrated anti-theft system working off the ignition key was installed.
The Carrera 3.2 had slipped into the market under the radar, but its final period was marked by a bombshell dropped by Porsche: in early May 1988, a single-page press release was issued. The announcement told the world how the 911 (in 964 form) was going four-wheel drive! It seemed the manufacturer’s flagship model was heading off in a new direction (although the release stressed the 964 Carrera 4 was to be made available in addition to subsequently released rear-driven models). Of course, it wasn’t. Then, as now, Porsche was acutely aware of the fact its customers know what they like, and won’t buy what they don’t.
FOR THE FINAL YEAR OF CARRERA 3.2 PRODUCTION, SIXTEEN-INCH FUCHS WHEELS BECAME STANDARD
Classic-looking and a wonderfully involving Porsche, the Carrera 3.2 is a car that can make every journey special. Sadly, what it can’t currently be is an everyday car — it’s now too fragile and valuable for that. I therefore consider myself lucky to have driven these special 911s, albeit on a limited basis, back when you could treat them as a car, not an investment.