
"Words like 'shocked' and
'appalled' come to mind, but words really are not adequate to
describe my feelings when I first spotted my new purchase."
By 1965, I had already owned
around 10 Ferraris, one at a time. I had purchased most of them
through Roberto Goldoni, my friend in Rome. Roberto
would invariably describe a prospective purchase as being in
“overall good condition”. The result was that I never knew what I
was getting, until I went to the docks in San Pedro to pick the
car up and drive it home. I was buying Ferraris that were a few
years old, so in 1965 I had yet to experience my first “SWB”. In
fact, I had yet to own a Ferrari with disc brakes.
Early in 1965, Roberto, or as I called him, Bob, wrote to me that
he had a short wheelbase Berlinetta (No. 2689GT) that I could buy
from a friend of his who was going into the service. We quickly
struck a deal for $2,850.00.
On June 1, 1965, I went to the dock at San Pedro to pick up my new
purchase. Words like “shocked” and “appalled” come to mind, but
words really are not adequate to describe my feelings when I first
spotted it. Take a look at the pictures and you will
get an idea of what I saw. The body was banged up from one end to
the other, all of the plastic windows were crazed to the point
where visibility was near zero, all the wheels were rusty, and
came in three different sizes! The tires were worn, and what
little chrome there was on the car was pure rust.
Worse, when I tried to start it up I found that the carburetor
throttle butterflies were frozen shut. Apparently, the car was in
such poor condition when it was loaded on the ship that they left
it above decks. The corrosion in the carburetors was such that I
had to pound on the butterflies with a large screwdriver and a
hammer, eventually succeeding in getting two of the three
carburetors to function. In disgust, I drove the car home on eight
cylinders. I had to drive with one hand, as my left hand was
needed to hold the door closed. It hadn’t crossed anyone’s mind,
in those days, to rent a trailer.
Eventually, my mechanic friend Sal DiNatale got the carburetors
functioning properly, and repaired the door latch. We took it for
a drive around my “private race course”, a back road around the
north end of Lake Hollywood leading to my home in the Hollywood
hills. As I dove into the first corner, the car twitched sideways,
and when I corrected, it twitched even more violently in the other
direction. It kept on twitching to the point where there was
nothing to do but hit the wall or slam the brakes on. While all of
this was going on, Sal was having the time of his life roaring out
loud and slapping the side of the car as if he were swatting the
flanks of a bucking bronco. A later inspection revealed that there
was not a suspension bushing in the car still alive.
At that time, I didn’t realize that there were different
variations of the SWB. In fact, the 61 Comp was quite a different
animal from the earlier SWBs. The heads incorporated larger
valves and on top of the engine sat size 46 carburetors (the
usual size is 36 to 40). The cam profiles were different from what
I had been accustomed to, the body skin was extremely thin and
lightweight, and there were many other differences between the 61
Comp and the standard SWB.
The engine in that car was marvelous; clearly the most powerful
that I had ever experienced in a Ferrari. You could actually kill
the engine by opening the throttles suddenly at low rpm. On the
other hand, once you hit about 4500 rpm the engine cleared its
throat and literally jumped forward. It would still pull strongly
at 7500 rpm.
While the drive train was basically sound on 2689GT, there wasn’t
anything good on the rest of the car. I didn’t know where to
start. The car mostly sat at Sal’s, getting a little work here and
there. It was at Sal’s shop that one of his pals, Tony Tersigni,
was admiring the car, and finally pried it loose from me at
something over $4,000.00. Because Tony was somewhat impecunious,
the car continued to sit at Sal’s, and in Tony’s garage, for
several years before it went through the hands of several
collectors.
Somewhere along the way, I became aware that the original title to
the car was in the name of Pierre Noblet, and of course I knew
that name. Research confirmed that this was the very car that had
come in 3rd overall, and 1st in the GT Class, in the 1961 running
of the 24 hours of Le Mans. Clearly, this was a car of significant
historical importance, although in 1965 that knowledge was of
little consequence. Happily, this Ferrari has had one of the most
complete restorations imaginable, including the removal of the
entire body skin for restoration of the frame and sub-frame.
Not too long ago, I had lunch with my old friend Bob Goldoni, who
confirmed that Pierre Noblet, after he had used the car in a
number of competition events, had sold it to his friend’s father
for the use of his young friend and his pals. The car was driven
all around Rome by Goldoni’s pal and many other young people, and
the most rudimentary knowledge of traffic in Rome will certainly
explain the condition of the car when I received it.
I was fortunate enough to have a ride in 2689 recently courtesy of
the current custodian, Bruce Meyer, and it was every bit as fast
and wild as I remembered. Unhappily, this great Ferrari is now out
of my league; its value is roughly a thousand-fold from when I
owned it.
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