Friday 23 August 2013

Classic Tracks, part 3 - Monaco

If Le Mans and Indianapolis are iconic race tracks, then so too, in the minds of the public at large, must be Monaco. It is hard to imagine a track more photographically recognisable, one that is instantly associated with the glamour of Formula 1, nor one that is more unlikely in the modern era.

Whether it’s the Lotuses of Stirling Moss in Rob Walker’s colours or Graham Hill in the Gold Leaf livery; Derek Daly’s Tyrrell flying at St. Devote, Ayrton Senna in the barrier at Portier or Michael Schumacher stopped at Rascasse: they are all images ingrained indelibly in the minds of motor sport enthusiasts the world over.

(As an aside, if you are one of those enthusiasts, close your eyes for a moment and try to imagine a 917, 962 or R18 superimposed on the streets of the Principality - no, it doesn’t work for me either!)

Anyway, back to my topic. I have witnessed two Grands Prix at Monte Carlo – the first in 1977 and the second in 1980.

In 1977 I was still at University, and Page & Moy was offering a return coach trip to Monaco that arrived on the morning of the Grand Prix and included a general admission ticket to the “Pelouses Rocher” spectator enclosure that overlooked the Rascasse and the swimming pool.

I decided it made sense to meet the coach at Dover, so I found a side street in which to park my car, and joined my fellow-enthusiasts – most of whom had travelled on the bus from Victoria Coach Station. We took the ferry to Calais, and began the long and arduous journey across France. Well, it was long, but for a passenger, not particularly arduous. I remember not really knowing where I was for the largest part of the journey, finding it hard to sleep, and half-heartedly listening to the FA Cup final on the radio (must have been long-wave).

We arrived at the circuit at around nine or ten in the morning, as I recall, and were given our admission tickets. On the way, I made the acquaintance of another chap who was bound for the same location (quite a few of my fellows had bought grandstand seats), and we browsed the souvenir stalls together.

As we approached the point at which the tickets were being collected, so the crowds intensified and there was something of a scrum to get in. But there was no turnstile, nor any kind of gate, just a loose row of ticket collectors. I reached forward to hand my ticket over to one, only to be barged out of the way by a group of Italians who were slightly, shall we say, more physical, than I. I found myself shoved in front of another of the ticket collectors, except that my ticket was already in the hand of the first ticket collector. Problem! Indicating to my buddy ahead of my and the chap who had collected my ticket over to the side, I shrugged my shoulders at him, and the force of the throng behind me carried me through and onto the Rock itself.

If there hadn’t been a Grand Prix going on, then it would have been a good place for a nice walk, with lovely views over the harbour. As it was, although the view was grand, there were plenty of people and not too much room. Losing touch with my erstwhile buddy, I shoved myself to a point where I could see the track over the shoulders of just two beanie-hatted Italians. We couldn’t see the start from where we were, but we could see the exit from Ste. Devote, up the hill towards the Casino, and then from the exit of the tunnel, down round the swimming pool, and into La Rascasse, albeit at something of a distance. Luckily, I had binoculars.

Of course I had binoculars. Just like I had a stop-watch (an ordinary, analogue one), along with pen and paper for keeping a lap chart. And as the race wore on, and the two Ferraris of Lauda and Reutemann were closing in on the Wolf of Jody Scheckter that had led from the start, my Italian neighbours suddenly were pushing me forward, so they could look over my shoulder and see how many laps were left to run, and see my stop-watch measuring the gap. (There was no chance of hearing the commentary up on ‘the Rock’.)

Much to my frustration, after the race, there was no time to hang about, as I so enjoy to do, as we were supposed to be back at the coach straight after the race for the drive back home.

In 1980, I was lucky enough to go to the Grand Prix again, and in much better style. Although, as I was to discover, the style to which my budget stretched was still way short of the level attained by others. I was living in Lugano, Switzerland, at the time, so I hired a car to drive there and booked a hotel in Nice. I remember it was the Hotel Imperial, whether it is still there or not, I don’t know. The drive down from Switzerland was sublime, I felt like a movie star as I navigated down to Genoa and along the coast past Sanremo towards Ventimiglia. OK so I was only in an Opel Kadett – I remember it was red – but in my head I was Roger Moore in the Volvo P1800.

I found a spot to park on the Boulevard Albert le premier, and tried to mingle with the crowds, but I was hopelessly out of my depth. I had adjusted to the cost of living at Swiss prices, but Monte-Carlo was something else. A beer in Rosie’s bar and a coffee in the Rascasse blew the budget for dinner, so I drove back to the hotel and prepared for Saturday practice.


For Saturday, I had a ticket to a spectator enclosure situated on the inside of the circuit, between the Chicane and Tabac. The F3 support encounter was won by Mauro Baldi from pole position, but the star of the race was Kenny Acheson, who finished fourth having started on the penultimate row of the grid. Nigel Mansell was in there somewhere as well, in the Unipart-sponsored March.

Being there on my own, I was free to soak up the atmosphere of Saturday night in Monaco, and it was a marvellous experience, wandering the streets, observing the somehow obscene displays of glamour, decadence and jaw-dropping wealth that I honestly knew I could not even aspire to. I was in two minds whether indeed I did aspire to it all, but just for a brief moment, I was part of it.

It was also possible to wander around the paddock area (then, as now, along the harbour front from the actual pits) and get up close to the cars being worked on. At the time, I felt very much that this was the 'modern era', when technology (turbo-charging, electronics, etc.) was at its height, but to look back now on cars being worked on under awnings, on dirt floor, by mechanics in t-shirts and shorts, makes you realise how rudimentary it all was, by modern standards. One wonders how the current age will be regarded by the next generation?

 

The race itself on Sunday was almost an anti-climax, compared to the exhilaration of actually being there. There was a support race for Renault 5s, then Prince Rainer arrived to take up his position in the Royal box.


Didier Pironi, starting from pole in the Ligier, was heading for victory until he crashed as there was a brief rain shower. This handed victory to Carlos Reutemann (Williams FW07), who had started alongside the Frenchman on the front row of the grid. Overtaking was never easy at Monaco (unless you’re Kenny Acheson).


But then again, nothing that I have ever experienced in racing comes close to the thrill of watching full-blooded Grand Prix cars threading their way through the streets of Monte Carlo. You are so close to the cars that you feel the impact of the air in your face as the cars go past. Constantly just inches away from concrete barriers, and occasionally glancing off them, by the end of the grand prix, you are exhausted from the physical exertion of watching.

A classic setting for Grand Prix cars, and some very special memories for me.


Thursday 1 August 2013

The Spa 24 Hour Casino

Trying to follow a race when you're not actually there is never easy. But even if you are there, you really need to be able to see the track to stay on top of things. For the Spa 24 hours, John Hindhaugh, Martin Haven and I were following the race from afar, with invaluable information
being provided by Graham Goodwin, who was talking to us from media centre at Spa-Francorchamps. Although we managed to stay on top of things, (I think), there is nothing like trawling through the numbers afterwards, to make sure that the contemporary impressions are matched by the data.

Thanks to the kind folks from 'Blancpain Timing', a few days after the race, I managed to get hold of the data file which provided such analysis.

The first thing that I wanted to confirm was the impression that for the HTP Motorsports Mercedes SLS AMG and the Manthey Racing Porsche 911 GT3-R, Bernd Schneider and Patrick Pilet, respectively, were the outstanding drivers. Looking at single laps is often misleading, so in the table below, I show the average of the best 50 laps of each driver.
No. 84 HTP Mercedes
Driver
Average of best 50 laps
Schneider
2m 23.314s
Buhk
2m 23.621s
Götz
2m 23.848s

No. 150 Manthey Porsche
Driver
Average of best 50 laps
Pilet
2m 23.792s
Lietz
2m 23.963s
Lieb
2m 23.994s

This shows quite clearly, the contribution that each of the respective team's drivers made to their result. Looking at the time spent by each driver behind the wheel is also interesting:
No. 84 HTP Mercedes
Driver
Driving Time
No of Laps
Buhk
8h 17m 26s
205
Götz
6h 38m 05s
161
Schneider
8h 07m 27s
198

No. 150 Manthey Porsche 911
Driver
Driving Time
No of Laps
Lieb
8h 03m 49s
196
Lietz
7h 57m 02s
195
Pilet
7h 06m 09s
172

Note that the driving time does not include the time spent in the pits, which explains why the total does not add up to 24 hours (in case you were wondering)!

Another way of looking at average lap times is to take the time of a driver's stint and divide it by the number of laps completed. On this basis, let's look at the best full stint for each of the drivers of the no. 84 Mercedes and of the no. 150 Porsche.

No. 84 HTP Mercedes
Driver
Best Stint
Average lap time
Buhk
8:09am - 9:11am
2m 23.4s
Götz
5:10am - 6:12am
2m 23.8s
Schneider
1:54am - 2:57am
2m 24.2s


No. 150 Manthey Porsche 911
Driver
Best Stint
Average lap time
Lieb
9:27am - 10:32am
2m 23.8s
Lietz
10:34am - 11:39am
2m 23.8s
Pilet
8:23am - 9:25am
2m 23.9s

Somewhat surprisingly, both Schneider and Pilet are the slowest! Undoubtedly, Schneider's ability to set a quick time for a stint was compromised by the safety car periods during the fastest part of the race on Sunday morning. But perhaps also, although he and Pilet are quick when the track conditions allow, they are a little more cautious in the traffic? It's a theory, at least.

Another thing that was noticeable during the race was that the HTP Motorsport team was far more eager to have its drivers do double stints than Olaf Manthey's team was. Here are the longest stints done by each driver:

No. 84 HTP Mercedes
Driver
Driving Time
Driving Laps
Stint Time
Buhk
2h 07m 15s
52
3:00am - 5:07am
Götz
1h 51m 17s
44
5:10am -7:01am
Schneider
2h 08m 19s
52
6:56pm - 9:05pm

No. 150 Manthey Porsche 911
Driver
Driving Time
Driving Laps
Stint Time
Lieb
1h 04m 41s
27
9:27am - 10:32am
Lietz
1h 42m 36s
40
0:06am -1:48am
Pilet
1h 04m 14s
22
11:42am - 12:46am
Pilet
1h 03m 03s
26
6:40pm - 7:43pm

I have shown Pilet twice in the table because the 22-lap stint was partly behind the safety car, and although his 26-lap stint took less time, it is perhaps more relevant as a 'long stint'.

The other key to the Mercedes win was the speed with which the HTP mechanics changed the brakes at half distance. The Mercedes brake change was 1m 51s quicker than on the Porsche.

However, the amount of time spent in the pits for each car was as follows:
No
Car
Time Spent in pits
No of stops
84
HTP Mercedes SLS AMG
57m 11.467s
24
150
Manthey Porsche 911 GT3
53m 15.354s
23
2
Team WRT Audi R8 LMS
56m 08.677s
23

(Note that, for the purpose of this table, I have excluded Manthey's drive-through penalty.)

Arguments can no doubt be put forward from both Renaud Dufour (from HTP) and Olaf Manthey that they lost out due to safety car interventions, and it would be naïve to suggest that none of the five safety car periods had an impact on the race. Dufour had a strategy though and pitted on four of the five occasions that the safety car came out. The Porsche pitted only once when the safety car was out, but try as I might, I could not find conclusive evidence that either strategy was the correct (or the wrong) one.

It seemed to me a bit like betting on 'red' or 'black' at roulette - it is the best way of ensuring that you win something, but neither of them is better than the other: whether you win or not ultimately comes down to chance.

But it does seem to be clear that the key to the Mercedes win was its pace on the track. And also, that Schneider (who, don't forget, set the fastest lap of the race), was very ably supported by his two co-drivers. Oh yes, and the Manthey car had a misfire.