As part of Motorsport Week’s morning with Officina Caira at the Formula 1 Belgian Grand Prix, we spent some time with the glorious cars on display.
The car collection on display at Officina Caira became one of the highlights of the weekend in Belgium; seeing them take to the track rewound the clock back more than thirty years as the V10 engines once again took to the track as they once had.
Of course, we could not be in the presence of these amazing cars in Officina Caira’s enclosure without seeing them up close to understand just why these cars are so special. We ogled their blissful simplicity, curved lines and open cockpits that today would make a Health and Safety Officer pass out from the risks to driver health.
As Silvano hinted at during our interview, the market for historic cars is growing, and the demand from a fan perspective is becoming as loud as the scream of the V10 engines that power these pieces of history.
So, what are the cars that feature in Officina Caira’s collection? The natural thing at this stage would be to highlight the Benettons and BMW Saubers on display, but instead, we want to do something a little bit different and bring attention to the lesser-known cars of F1 from across the years.
The cars we’ve selected for this look down memory lane both have interesting stories to tell. In one case, a plucky car from an era when team numbers were rife, while the other is an example of throwing money at a project with no direction and hoping for the best. Both cars took to the track in Spa for demonstration runs, looking and sounding spectacular as they did on the last day they raced. Here are the forgotten gems of a former time.
Scuderia Italia Dallara F189-04
Scuderia Italia made their debut in F1 in 1988 after a successful spell in lower categories with just one car entering the season. In the ultra-competitive world of 1980s F1 teams, where new entries came and went about as often as UK Prime Ministers these days, Scuderia Italia faced an uphill task. But this plucky Italian team qualified for 14 out of 16 races in 1988, leading to an expansion to two cars for 1989, with Andrea De Cesaris joining Alex Caffi.
The Dallara F189, an evolution of the solid if uninspiring F188, was designed by new engineer Mario Tolentino, who brought fresh ideas to the team. The new Cosworth DFR V8 replaced the now-retired DFZ, and the combination of both design and engine proved to be fruitful. Weighing around 500kg overall, it gained a reputation as a dependable if not spectacular midfield car – quite an achievement on a grid of 26 cars.
De Cesaris’ name to many will conjure memories of crashes, mostly self-induced. While no longer the loose cannon of his early career, 1989 proved no different, crashing out of the season opener in Brazil. Though this would not be the worst act he would commit in 1989, instead that unfortunate accolade would go to the occasion he crashed into teammate Caffi in Phoenix while being lapped, costing Caffi a podium. Redemption would come at the next round in Canada for De Cesaris, in what would be the infamous Italian’s last F1 podium.
Further promising qualifying results, including an outstanding third for Caffi in Hungary, went to waste, as no further points finishes came. But eight points on the board, six courtesy of De Cesaris, led to a ninth place in the Constructors’ Championship at the end of the season.
The Dallara F189 is an example of a time in F1 which many are sad no longer exists. Today, gaining entry in F1 is about as easy as learning to juggle knives while walking a tightrope above a tank of hungry sharks. Back in the 1980s, however, if you could come up with the cash and individuals mad enough to give it a try, you could join the F1 circus. Of course, you had to pre-qualify, and that was a different matter entirely, but you could say you had an F1 team.
Today’s F1 world is corporate and governed by sums that most people could never begin to fathom. The Dallara F189 represents the antithesis of this, and it is utterly glorious. May it continue to run for many years to come.
Footwork Porsche A11C
After the President of the Footwork Express Company, Wataru Ohashi, made a substantial investment into the midfield Arrows team, the team was rebranded Footwork for 1991, and with this came lofty [and somewhat unrealistic] expectations of building for championship success. Of course, as history tells us in many unforgiving ways, this tends to end spectacularly badly.
Engines were the first order of business, and after successful previous spells with McLaren, Porsche was chosen as a works partner for the upcoming season, a three-year deal signed with an option for 1994 also on the table. V12 power, a luxury not afforded to the team in recent times, would propel the team forward, or at least they thought.
Ambition also stretched to the drivers. A truly ridiculous bid was made for Nigel Mansell’s services, which thankfully the British driver never really entertained. Instead, Michele Alboreto and Alex Caffi were brought in to fill the important void of who would drive Footwork into this new chapter.
Issues first arose when the large and bulky V12 engine did not fit inside the intended car for 1991: the FA12. Instead, a modified version of its 1990 car, the A11C, started the season off, with the opening race in Brazil providing a sobering reset of expectations. Caffi failed to progress past pre-qualifying, while Alboreto retired after a back-row start with a gearbox issue. Neither Alboreto nor Caffi qualified.
While the Arrows chassis was at its best, Porsche was the true culprit. Just about everything to do with this engine proved to be a disappointment. Every gram counts for massive performance differences in F1, both positively and negatively. While the exact weight of the engine varies, reports put it at between 89-220kg versus roughly 150-170kg for Ferrari and Honda V12 offerings. A power deficit added to the problems. While the class-leading Hondas produced 780bhp at maximum power, Porsche barely hit above 500bhp, the equivalent of a Jaguar XJ-S V12 separating the two manufacturers.
Blowing three engines at a Paul Ricard test, and never seeing the chequered flag in the first six races led to the deal being dissolved, and Ford V8s coming to the rescue. Porsche has yet to return to F1 since.
Was this car a failure? Yes, in every sense of the word. Memorable? Absolutely.
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