From the April 1965 Issue of Car and Driver

TESTED

No contest. This is the Porsche to end all Porsches—or, rather, to start a whole new generation of Porsches. Porsche’s new 911 model is unquestionably the finest Porsche ever built. More than that, it’s one of the best Gran Turismo cars in the world, certainly among the top three or four.

Porsche enthusiasts used to insist that the 356 model was as nearly-perfect an automobile as had ever been designed, an immutable classic that couldn’t be im­proved upon. Oh, no? Put a familiar 356 up alongside a 911. Only yesterday, the 356 seemed ahead of its time. Today you realize its time has passed; the 356 leaves you utterly unimpressed and you can’t keep your eyes off the 911. The 911 is a superior car in every respect … the stuff legends are made of.

Let it be understood at the outset that the 911 does not replace the 356, according to the factory. In the catalog, it replaces the fussy, little-appreciated Carrera 2 while the 356C (ex-Super) and 356SC (ex-Super 95) still roll off the assembly lines at about their normal rate. However, we can’t believe that Porsche will con­tinue making two entirely different cars, side-by-side, beyond the immediately foreseeable future. And let it also be understood that the 911 is not readily available. The first six month’s production is completely sold out and there’s a line of expectant owners going halfway around almost every Porsche agency in the country.

General

The 911—so-called because it is the 911th design project since Porsche opened its doors in 1931—is also the first all-Porsche Porsche. The 356 was the first car to carry the Porsche name, although when it was con­ceived in 1948 it was little more than a souped-up, special-bodied version of an earlier Porsche design, the Volkswagen. The 911, while true to the 356’s basic configuration, is an entirely new and different car. The engine is again air-cooled, again hung out behind the rear axle, but it’s a single-overhead-cam six-cylinder where the 356 was a pushrod four-cylinder (and the Carrera a four-cam four-cylinder). The new body is far more handsome—the work of old Professor Porsche’s grandson, Ferry, Jr. The 911’s 5-speed gear­box, already in service in Porsche’s 904 GT racing car, is probably the new car’s best single feature. Even the suspension is new, though tried-and-true torsion bars are retained as the springing medium.

The 911, or 901 as it then was, was introduced at the 1963 Frankfurt Auto Show. It was very much a prototype and its debut may have been premature. More than a year was to pass before it went into pro­duction, during which time the model number was changed (to indicate that it was a later model than the Frankfurt car and also because Peugeot reportedly had a lock on three-digit model numbers with zero in the middle), the price estimate dropped, the performance estimate rose, and a demand built up that the current four-a-day supply won’t be able to satisfy for some time to come.

The 901/911 was not the “best” car Porsche could have made. Porsche could have put the storied flat-eight engine into production, bored out to, say, 2.5 liters and tuned up to 240 horsepower. That would have put the 901/911 into the Ferrari-Corvette-Jaguar performance bracket. It also would have raised the price considerably, and Porsche was understandably nervous about entering the No-Man’s-Land market for $9000 GT cars. On price alone, it would have been beyond the reach of anybody but the Very Rich, and the V.R. are noted for such capricious perversity as preferring a $14,000 car to a $9000 car simply because it costs $5000 more. The four-cam flat-eight also would have had the same kind of maintenance and reliability problems the Carrera engine had; problems that are hopefully nonexistent in the 911’s sohc six-cylinder.

Considering what the Stuttgart design office has turned out in the past, Porsche could have come out with a supercharged six-liter 550-hp V-16 GT car to sell for $30,000 and not lose a drag race to anybody but Don Garlits, but their production facilities are hardly geared for that sort of thing, and it would be getting pretty far away from the Porsche image, wouldn’t it? In fact, Porsche had a full four-seater on the drawing boards at one point, but Ferry Porsche felt that his company’s business was not selling super-duper sedans or ultra-ultra sports/racing cars but optimum-priced, optimum-size, optimum-performance Gran Turismo cars, which is exactly what the 911 is.

At $6490 POE East Coast (or $5275 FOB Stuttgart), the 911 isn’t what you’d call cheap—no Porsche ever was—but then, quality never is. Porsche’s kind of quality cannot be had for less, viz. Ferrari 330GT ($14,000) or Mercedes-Benz 230SL ($8000). It’s of more than ordinary interest that the 911 costs a whop­ping thousand dollars less than the Carrera 2 it re­places. A Porsche is either worth it to the prospective buyer or it isn’t; he can’t justify the price tag by the way the body tucks under at the rear or by the way the steering wheel fits in his hands or the way the engine settles in for a drive through a rain-filled afternoon. But let’s see what he gets for his money.

Body

The 911’s eye-catching body is distinctive—slimmer, trimmer, yet obviously Porsche. While not as revolu­tionary as the original 356 design was in its day, the 911’s shape is far less controversial and slightly more aerodynamic. Though frontal area has grown, a lower drag coefficient (.38 vs. .398) allows it to reach a top speed of 130 mph on only 148 hp. It ought to weather the years without looking dated. Compared to the cur­rent 356 body, the 911 is five inches longer (on a four-inch longer wheelbase), three inches narrower (on a one-inch wider track) and just about the same height. The body structure is still unitized, built up of in­numerable, complicated steel stampings welded to­gether (with the exception of the front fenders which are now bolted on for easier repair of minor accidents). The glass area and luggage space have been increased 58% and 186%, respectively, and the turning circle is a bit tighter. The fully-trimmed (with cocoa mats) trunk will hold enough for a week’s vacation for two; additional space is available in the rear seat area. The trunk and engine lids can be opened to any angle and held by counter-springs and telescopic dampers—a nice touch. These lids, as well as the doors, are larger than the old Porsche’s, making access to the innards much less awkward. The gas filler cap nestles under a trap-door in the left fender, and the engine lid release is hidden away in the left door post.

The generous expanse of glass area does wonders for the rearward vision; all-around visibility is comparable to a normal front-engined car. The bumpers are well-integrated with the body, though provide barely adequate protection from those who park by ear. The standard appointments are lush and extensive: two heater/defrosters, padded sun-visors with vanity mir­ror, map and courtesy lights, 3-speed windshield wipers, 4-nozzle windshield washers, chrome wheels, belted tires, two fog lamps, a back-up light and a beau­tiful wood-rim steering wheel. About the only options we’d like are seat belts (for which massive, forged eye­bolts are provided), a radio and a fender mirror. Fitted luggage and factory-installed air-conditioning will be available shortly, we’re told.

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