Ferrari GTO The whole story
Dec 31, 2008 | 10:52 AM
#1
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Ferrari GTO The whole story From Octane Mag:
It’s an indisputable fact that the Italians have a way with words – even the most mundane things in life can sound glamorous when spoken in Italian. ‘Road’ translates to strada, ‘please’ becomes per favore, and one of the ugliest words in the English language – homologation – becomes omologato. It’s the same with names, too. Flick through the Turin telephone directory and there are as many Ferraris in there as there are Browns in its Surbiton counterpart. Marry the two words to create Ferrari Omologato and car enthusiasts’ pulses quicken. Somehow you couldn’t imagine a ‘Brown Homologation Special’ having quite the same effect.
In 1962 Scuderia Ferrari created its first road-going Omologato, the 250GTO, and although it was primarily intended for motor sport that didn’t stop Scaglietti styling one of the most beautiful cars ever built. The combination of a dramatically styled body and the V12 from the Testa Rossa proved irresistible, and for anyone who’s encountered a 250GTO at first hand it’s an unforgettable experience.
However, for supercar fans of a certain age the 250 isn’t the definitive GTO at all. Think 1980s, mid-engined, Group B and turbocharged, and you arrive at what has retrospectively become known as the 288GTO (it was only ever known as the ‘Ferrari GTO’ in contemporary literature). Like its 1960s namesake, the GTO was almost painfully beautiful. Into the mix, throw in a twin-turbo 400bhp V8, which gave it a serious shot at claiming the title of the ‘world’s fastest car’, and you’re left with the ultimate dream car.
Today it nestles almost apologetically in the long shadow cast over it by the F40, but back in 1984, when it first appeared at the Geneva Motor Show, the GTO had the world at its feet.
Born to compete
To understand the thinking behind the GTO’s creation, a quick lesson in motor sport history is required. In 1982 the FIA created Group B for sports car racing and rallying. For circuit racing it was a catch-all replacement for Group 4 (modified GT cars) and Group 5 (touring prototypes).
In essence the new category was set up to encourage major manufacturers back into motor sport – after a few lean years – by allowing them to build the ultimate racers. There were few restrictions; the use of forced induction and exotic materials was positively encouraged, reflecting the giant technological strides taking place in motor sport at the time. As long as entrants could build at least 200 of the cars, they were in.
Porsche threw its hat into the ring by announcing plans to build a Group B racer based loosely on the 911. The German company was in pole position to exploit the regulations, having had extensive turbo experience at Le Mans through much of the 1970s and into the ’80s.
Ferrari, on the other hand, was theoretically at a disadvantage. But that didn’t stop Enzo unilaterally taking the decision to build a new-age GTO for Group B – his intention was clearly to make the new category his own. As we shall see, Ferrari was in a perfect position to catch Porsche up, even if some of the conceptual decisions about the car were based upon tradition rather than pragmatism.
Formula One thinking would be applied to the creation of the Group B car. Although the years following Jody Scheckter and Gilles Villeneuve’s Championship-winning season in 1979 had been tough, things were looking up. During the 1970s, Ferrari earned the reputation of being the sport’s best engine-builder thanks to the prodigious power of its flat-12, and sometimes its chassis design lagged behind.
However, once ground effects took off and cars such as the Lotus 79 and Williams FW07 started cleaning up, Ferrari’s chassis problems were magnified, and race victories on power alone were harder to come by. Maranello needed to get to grips with the emerging F1 technologies of composite construction and under-body airflow management, while marrying them effectively with the V6 turbo then under development.
And that’s why in June 1980 Enzo Ferrari drafted in Dr Harvey Postlethwaite. The Englishman joined the Scuderia to teach the Italians a thing or two about building an effective F1 chassis, and brought with him race-winning experience from March, Hesketh and Wolf-Williams. Postlethwaite oversaw the latter stages of the development of the turbocharged 126C2 and, despite the 1982 season being littered with tragedy, Ferrari went on to clinch the 1982 Constructors’ title. This feat was repeated in 1983 with the 126C2B.
Ferrari had been energised by its rapid F1 progress and was confident that it could build a Group B-winning car using the design principles that Postlethwaite developed to fruition in F1. Pininfarina’s director of design Leonardo Fioravanti was given the task of creating the GTO, and remembers the original brief from Enzo Ferrari well. ‘There was no specific instruction, just to produce a car based on the 308GTB that could be used for racing.’
Under the skin
Enzo’s decision to re-enter sports car racing wasn’t taken lightly. The works team had pulled out in 1973 to concentrate on F1, leaving privateers to fly the flag at Le Mans. The ensuing F1 golden age under Mauro Forghieri more than made up for it though – and, under Group B regulations, Enzo saw the potential to combine turbo power and advanced aerodynamics to create another golden era, this time in sports cars.
Ferrari really went for it with the GTO, as it had done with the 250 variant 20 years previously, throwing all of its available F1 resources at the project. Developed in under two years, the resultant car should have more than lived up to Enzo’s expectations for it.
Underpinning the GTO was an immensely strong spaceframe, much of which was made up from high-tensile steels. However, Kevlar and Nomex were used for the bulkhead between driver and engine, while the rest of the outer panels were fashioned from glassfibre and aluminium. This was cutting-edge stuff for 1984 *– and Ferrari management, led by its bullish managing director Giovanni Sguazzini, stressed that GTO technology would find its way into road cars.
Postlethwaite clearly believed that his F1 chassis and body engineering could be transferred to road cars, commenting at the GTO’s launch: ‘Structural reinforced plastics are the material of the last quarter of a century. We’ve applied pure Formula One technology to two components in this car, and some principles to lots of body components. The racing department is directly responsible.’ The styling, a Pininfarina masterclass by Fioravanti, evolved organically (see p66).
The V8 engine was mounted longitudinally, a decision that has often been attributed to Harvey Postlethwaite, who clearly wanted to design the 288GTO like an F1 car. But as Fioravanti recalls, ‘With transverse installation, it was impossible to mount the engine and ancillaries – they were too near the firewall. With the new position of the engine, we could place the turbos and gearbox more effectively, and that led to the car having an 11cm-longer wheelbase.’
Like all Ferraris, what made the GTO special was its engine. Based on the 2927cc, 32-valve V8 found in the 308 and Mondial QV, its cylinder block was strengthened, and improvements made to oil circulation and cooling. The headline power output of 400bhp was achieved by using a pair of Japanese IHI turbochargers, blowing through two Behr intercoolers and into a bespoke Weber-Marelli engine management system.
The engine capacity was reduced to 2855cc by under-boring the classic V8 by 1mm; Group B regulations stipulated that engine capacity should be under 4000cc, and all turbocharged engines were multiplied by an FIA-sanctioned factor of 1.4. Forced induction was clearly the way forward – a 4-litre normally aspirated Ferrari V8 could be pushed to 400bhp, but it’s unlikely that it would get anywhere close to the 600bhp that GTO race cars were conceived to deliver.
Interestingly, Ferrari never considered fitting driver aids to the GTO – four-wheel drive, a 1980s must-have, was nowhere to be seen. Traction control and ABS were notable omissions, too. Giovanni Sguazzini was confident the car didn’t need 4WD; given the mechanical grip the car could generate, ‘We did not want four-wheel drive for this car. It wouldn’t have been impossible to do it; we chose not to do it. As for anti-lock brakes, it will not be applied as the GTO’s brakes are efficient.’ As we’ll see, its principal rival thought rather differently…
A victim of fate
When it made its first public appearance at the 1984 Geneva Motor Show, the GTO was hailed as the event’s star car. Disappointingly for prospective customers not in the loop, the entire production run was already sold out. Group B was big news, and sharing the limelight were future rallying stars the Peugeot 205T16, MG Metro 6R4 and Audi Sport quattro.
Even the most cursory glance at these cars resulted in the obvious conclusion – they were built for speed, not aesthetics. Only the Italians, it seemed, fully understood the concept of designing a good-looking motor sport car – even rally cars could be made beautiful. Step forward, the Lancia Stratos.
The GTO soon became the darling of the F1 set, with high-profile owners including Niki Lauda (his boss, Ron Dennis, must have loved that), Michele Alboreto, René Arnoux and – latterly – Eddie Irvine. No doubt the howl from that highly tuned V8 and delicacy of response were a constant reminder of what they were paid to do on the track, and the association gave the GTO real kudos among hardcore enthusiasts.
The road testers loved it, too – at least, those who managed to secure a drive. Although it cost £73,499 in the UK (for comparison, the Rolls-Royce Silver Spirit was £59,468), demand far outstripped supply and there was no need for press cars. Ferrari was so inundated with orders that it caved into the inevitable and built 272 examples *– as opposed to the 200 it needed for homologation.
Car magazine’s Gavin Green summed up the experience after collecting dealer magnate Ron Stratton’s example from the factory: ‘I remember the growl of the engine on full throttle, the cramped cockpit, the poor ventilation.
I remember my last sight of the GTO, when Stratton dropped me off. It growled off down the High Street,
a prince among all the pawns.’
However, the GTO’s glorious racing career was cruelly cut short. In fact, it never happened at all. Group B for sports cars ended up being canned; a lack of manufacturer support cited by the FIA as the reason. Ferrari and Porsche were the only car makers to take the plunge – and the two companies had taken a diametrically opposed approach to car development.
Porsche’s 959 was a startling technical tour de force, featuring all of the driver aids that Ferrari shunned. Compared with the GTO it seemed like a product of a future generation, which may not have augured well for Ferrari had the two clashed head-on at the track. As it was, the super-Porsche ended up going head to head with the Ferrari F40 because of its later launch date.
As a road car, the GTO is one of the most capable of all classic Ferraris, and stunningly desirable, too – despite being overshadowed by the F40. It’s the rarest Ferrari of its generation but, nevertheless, many enthusiasts regularly, and unjustifiably, overlook it.
Fioravanti sums up the GTO perfectly. ‘This was the mother of the F40. The car was extremely sporting and elegant – not like the F40 with its excessive embellishment. It’s the best Ferrari because we mixed sports and elegance without having a need to be aggressive. I want to buy one – it’s neat, and a typical Commendatore specialist car: there was relatively little expense but the results were massive. It’s the Italian way.’ Indeed, it seems that the Italians do have a way with words…
It’s an indisputable fact that the Italians have a way with words – even the most mundane things in life can sound glamorous when spoken in Italian. ‘Road’ translates to strada, ‘please’ becomes per favore, and one of the ugliest words in the English language – homologation – becomes omologato. It’s the same with names, too. Flick through the Turin telephone directory and there are as many Ferraris in there as there are Browns in its Surbiton counterpart. Marry the two words to create Ferrari Omologato and car enthusiasts’ pulses quicken. Somehow you couldn’t imagine a ‘Brown Homologation Special’ having quite the same effect.
In 1962 Scuderia Ferrari created its first road-going Omologato, the 250GTO, and although it was primarily intended for motor sport that didn’t stop Scaglietti styling one of the most beautiful cars ever built. The combination of a dramatically styled body and the V12 from the Testa Rossa proved irresistible, and for anyone who’s encountered a 250GTO at first hand it’s an unforgettable experience.
However, for supercar fans of a certain age the 250 isn’t the definitive GTO at all. Think 1980s, mid-engined, Group B and turbocharged, and you arrive at what has retrospectively become known as the 288GTO (it was only ever known as the ‘Ferrari GTO’ in contemporary literature). Like its 1960s namesake, the GTO was almost painfully beautiful. Into the mix, throw in a twin-turbo 400bhp V8, which gave it a serious shot at claiming the title of the ‘world’s fastest car’, and you’re left with the ultimate dream car.
Today it nestles almost apologetically in the long shadow cast over it by the F40, but back in 1984, when it first appeared at the Geneva Motor Show, the GTO had the world at its feet.
Born to compete
To understand the thinking behind the GTO’s creation, a quick lesson in motor sport history is required. In 1982 the FIA created Group B for sports car racing and rallying. For circuit racing it was a catch-all replacement for Group 4 (modified GT cars) and Group 5 (touring prototypes).
In essence the new category was set up to encourage major manufacturers back into motor sport – after a few lean years – by allowing them to build the ultimate racers. There were few restrictions; the use of forced induction and exotic materials was positively encouraged, reflecting the giant technological strides taking place in motor sport at the time. As long as entrants could build at least 200 of the cars, they were in.
Porsche threw its hat into the ring by announcing plans to build a Group B racer based loosely on the 911. The German company was in pole position to exploit the regulations, having had extensive turbo experience at Le Mans through much of the 1970s and into the ’80s.
Ferrari, on the other hand, was theoretically at a disadvantage. But that didn’t stop Enzo unilaterally taking the decision to build a new-age GTO for Group B – his intention was clearly to make the new category his own. As we shall see, Ferrari was in a perfect position to catch Porsche up, even if some of the conceptual decisions about the car were based upon tradition rather than pragmatism.
Formula One thinking would be applied to the creation of the Group B car. Although the years following Jody Scheckter and Gilles Villeneuve’s Championship-winning season in 1979 had been tough, things were looking up. During the 1970s, Ferrari earned the reputation of being the sport’s best engine-builder thanks to the prodigious power of its flat-12, and sometimes its chassis design lagged behind.
However, once ground effects took off and cars such as the Lotus 79 and Williams FW07 started cleaning up, Ferrari’s chassis problems were magnified, and race victories on power alone were harder to come by. Maranello needed to get to grips with the emerging F1 technologies of composite construction and under-body airflow management, while marrying them effectively with the V6 turbo then under development.
And that’s why in June 1980 Enzo Ferrari drafted in Dr Harvey Postlethwaite. The Englishman joined the Scuderia to teach the Italians a thing or two about building an effective F1 chassis, and brought with him race-winning experience from March, Hesketh and Wolf-Williams. Postlethwaite oversaw the latter stages of the development of the turbocharged 126C2 and, despite the 1982 season being littered with tragedy, Ferrari went on to clinch the 1982 Constructors’ title. This feat was repeated in 1983 with the 126C2B.
Ferrari had been energised by its rapid F1 progress and was confident that it could build a Group B-winning car using the design principles that Postlethwaite developed to fruition in F1. Pininfarina’s director of design Leonardo Fioravanti was given the task of creating the GTO, and remembers the original brief from Enzo Ferrari well. ‘There was no specific instruction, just to produce a car based on the 308GTB that could be used for racing.’
Under the skin
Enzo’s decision to re-enter sports car racing wasn’t taken lightly. The works team had pulled out in 1973 to concentrate on F1, leaving privateers to fly the flag at Le Mans. The ensuing F1 golden age under Mauro Forghieri more than made up for it though – and, under Group B regulations, Enzo saw the potential to combine turbo power and advanced aerodynamics to create another golden era, this time in sports cars.
Ferrari really went for it with the GTO, as it had done with the 250 variant 20 years previously, throwing all of its available F1 resources at the project. Developed in under two years, the resultant car should have more than lived up to Enzo’s expectations for it.
Underpinning the GTO was an immensely strong spaceframe, much of which was made up from high-tensile steels. However, Kevlar and Nomex were used for the bulkhead between driver and engine, while the rest of the outer panels were fashioned from glassfibre and aluminium. This was cutting-edge stuff for 1984 *– and Ferrari management, led by its bullish managing director Giovanni Sguazzini, stressed that GTO technology would find its way into road cars.
Postlethwaite clearly believed that his F1 chassis and body engineering could be transferred to road cars, commenting at the GTO’s launch: ‘Structural reinforced plastics are the material of the last quarter of a century. We’ve applied pure Formula One technology to two components in this car, and some principles to lots of body components. The racing department is directly responsible.’ The styling, a Pininfarina masterclass by Fioravanti, evolved organically (see p66).
The V8 engine was mounted longitudinally, a decision that has often been attributed to Harvey Postlethwaite, who clearly wanted to design the 288GTO like an F1 car. But as Fioravanti recalls, ‘With transverse installation, it was impossible to mount the engine and ancillaries – they were too near the firewall. With the new position of the engine, we could place the turbos and gearbox more effectively, and that led to the car having an 11cm-longer wheelbase.’
Like all Ferraris, what made the GTO special was its engine. Based on the 2927cc, 32-valve V8 found in the 308 and Mondial QV, its cylinder block was strengthened, and improvements made to oil circulation and cooling. The headline power output of 400bhp was achieved by using a pair of Japanese IHI turbochargers, blowing through two Behr intercoolers and into a bespoke Weber-Marelli engine management system.
The engine capacity was reduced to 2855cc by under-boring the classic V8 by 1mm; Group B regulations stipulated that engine capacity should be under 4000cc, and all turbocharged engines were multiplied by an FIA-sanctioned factor of 1.4. Forced induction was clearly the way forward – a 4-litre normally aspirated Ferrari V8 could be pushed to 400bhp, but it’s unlikely that it would get anywhere close to the 600bhp that GTO race cars were conceived to deliver.
Interestingly, Ferrari never considered fitting driver aids to the GTO – four-wheel drive, a 1980s must-have, was nowhere to be seen. Traction control and ABS were notable omissions, too. Giovanni Sguazzini was confident the car didn’t need 4WD; given the mechanical grip the car could generate, ‘We did not want four-wheel drive for this car. It wouldn’t have been impossible to do it; we chose not to do it. As for anti-lock brakes, it will not be applied as the GTO’s brakes are efficient.’ As we’ll see, its principal rival thought rather differently…
A victim of fate
When it made its first public appearance at the 1984 Geneva Motor Show, the GTO was hailed as the event’s star car. Disappointingly for prospective customers not in the loop, the entire production run was already sold out. Group B was big news, and sharing the limelight were future rallying stars the Peugeot 205T16, MG Metro 6R4 and Audi Sport quattro.
Even the most cursory glance at these cars resulted in the obvious conclusion – they were built for speed, not aesthetics. Only the Italians, it seemed, fully understood the concept of designing a good-looking motor sport car – even rally cars could be made beautiful. Step forward, the Lancia Stratos.
The GTO soon became the darling of the F1 set, with high-profile owners including Niki Lauda (his boss, Ron Dennis, must have loved that), Michele Alboreto, René Arnoux and – latterly – Eddie Irvine. No doubt the howl from that highly tuned V8 and delicacy of response were a constant reminder of what they were paid to do on the track, and the association gave the GTO real kudos among hardcore enthusiasts.
The road testers loved it, too – at least, those who managed to secure a drive. Although it cost £73,499 in the UK (for comparison, the Rolls-Royce Silver Spirit was £59,468), demand far outstripped supply and there was no need for press cars. Ferrari was so inundated with orders that it caved into the inevitable and built 272 examples *– as opposed to the 200 it needed for homologation.
Car magazine’s Gavin Green summed up the experience after collecting dealer magnate Ron Stratton’s example from the factory: ‘I remember the growl of the engine on full throttle, the cramped cockpit, the poor ventilation.
I remember my last sight of the GTO, when Stratton dropped me off. It growled off down the High Street,
a prince among all the pawns.’
However, the GTO’s glorious racing career was cruelly cut short. In fact, it never happened at all. Group B for sports cars ended up being canned; a lack of manufacturer support cited by the FIA as the reason. Ferrari and Porsche were the only car makers to take the plunge – and the two companies had taken a diametrically opposed approach to car development.
Porsche’s 959 was a startling technical tour de force, featuring all of the driver aids that Ferrari shunned. Compared with the GTO it seemed like a product of a future generation, which may not have augured well for Ferrari had the two clashed head-on at the track. As it was, the super-Porsche ended up going head to head with the Ferrari F40 because of its later launch date.
As a road car, the GTO is one of the most capable of all classic Ferraris, and stunningly desirable, too – despite being overshadowed by the F40. It’s the rarest Ferrari of its generation but, nevertheless, many enthusiasts regularly, and unjustifiably, overlook it.
Fioravanti sums up the GTO perfectly. ‘This was the mother of the F40. The car was extremely sporting and elegant – not like the F40 with its excessive embellishment. It’s the best Ferrari because we mixed sports and elegance without having a need to be aggressive. I want to buy one – it’s neat, and a typical Commendatore specialist car: there was relatively little expense but the results were massive. It’s the Italian way.’ Indeed, it seems that the Italians do have a way with words…
May 11, 2009 | 05:41 PM
#8
Teamspeed Junior Member
Joined: May 2009
Posts: 95
From: Madison, WI
Gorgeous, but I'd take a '64 over anything produced in the '80s. Not the fastest by a long stretch and drum brakes if I'm not mistaken, but ooh that classic, seminal look and mmm, the sound of that classic V12!
