bringing it back - targa tasmania 2017
Alfa romeo never raced or rallied the 2600 sprint in period, and at targa tasmania 2017 we continued our competition development of the big six
Eight left, 400. As the call was made signifying a sufficient straight after the upcoming corner to properly stretch the legs of the lusty inline six and allow those triple Weber’s to properly sing, I briefly glanced up from the pace notes to catch a sliver of something ahead. As we rounded the bend and Guy selected fourth and then fifth gears, it was becoming readily apparent that we were catching another car, our second for the long Paloona stage.
By the end of the straight a lovely baby-blue coloured Alfa Romeo GT Junior was firmly within our sights, and after just a few corners we had caught it. It was tempting to take in the moment; sitting belted into one classic Alfa rally car following another at high speed through the Tasmanian forest is something to truly savour. But we had a job to do, so I shut down the romantic side of my mind and tried my best to focus solely on calling the notes ahead. Around a very long opening radius seven left the GT Junior hesitates marginally and pulls to the left, giving us space to take it around the outside at what must have been around a hundred and thirty. You couldn’t dream of a better Targa moment if you tried.
Guy, I and the 2600 tear up the Elephant Pass road on Tasmania's stunning East Coast.
Of course, these were the exact Targa moments I was dreaming of in 2016 when we were stranded 12 hours before the event start with a blown head gasket, when it was becoming plainly obvious that we wouldn’t have a car to compete in. In 2016, we loaded my friend Guy’s beautiful 1962 Alfa Romeo 2600 Sprint onto a trailer and spent Targa week spectating, and 2017 was our return.
The 2600 had been driven only a handful of kilometres when we embarked on this event in 2016, whereas this year the car had several thousand kilometres of road driving, a few track days and a successful run for Guy and I in the Classic Adelaide Rally. The car was ready.
At six days in duration and spanning the entire island state of Tasmania, Targa Tasmania is the longest competitive tarmac rally in Australia. Day one is usually relatively short to ease competitors into the event, but this year a clash on day two with the Anzac Day public holiday meant there could be no gentle start. An extensive loop around the East Coast would see us compete across seven competitive stages, and we crossed the start line at the Launceston Country Club somewhat apprehensive. It was wet and we had some of the trickiest stages of the event to cover before lunch.
My pacenote book waits ready as we sit a couple of cars back from starting The Sideling stage
As a modicum nod to safety the first stage had a minimum time limit, and we passed penalty free to the second stage – The Sideling. This mountain pass is notorious at the best of times, and in the wet and cold it can be downright diabolical with sharp drop offs and zero margin for error. We can’t get any heat into the Advan A050 tyres and the road is greasy so we tippy-toe through the stage and drop a heap of time, but at least we emerge without a scratch. The same can’t be said for several other competitors.
With the monkey off our back we settle into a nice rhythm and tick the Moorina, Weldborough Pass and Pyengana stages off before the lunch stop in the picturesque seaside fishing town of St Helens. After meeting up with the service crew (comprised of our father’s Graham and Mike, and mates James and Luke) we have a cracker of a run up Elephant Pass which was only dampened by my first pacenote error of the event.
Thumbs-up as we pass through a public road transport stage having finished the Rossarden stage on day one
Right at the end I get a little ahead and call ‘over flying finish’, only to look up and see no flying finished ahead of us. Luckily Guy knew where we were, and kindly insisted the error cost us no time. We enjoy the high-speed blast of Rossarden as we swing through multiple bends flat out in top gear, and return to Launceston for service and that evening’s street party.
A cautious blast around George Town. Thousands of spectators turned out for the town stage; seeing the town at 140km/h from a rally car is a slightly surreal experience.
Day two got underway in the late morning with an hour-long transport out to the town stage at George Town, the only stage to be run that day due to Anzac Day commemorations. Unless you’re here for outright victory you never properly commit to a town stage. It’s hard to make up time over such a short distance and the waiting kerbs amplify the cost of even a minor mistake. Even with our conservative approach we were topping 140km/h down the narrow suburban streets, with families waving and cheering as we roared past. A little unsettling, but a whole lot of fun.
Day Three would see us depart Launceston for the final time to tackle seven stages along the North coast, before heading to the overnight stop at Burnie. We were starting to get into the meat of the event now, with legendary stages such as the 38km Cethana and 36km Riana ahead in the pacenote book. It would be a long and challenging day, but we felt ready and couldn’t wait to get started.
Moriarty went like clockwork; the highlights of Paloona were described in the opening paragraphs of this story, and we made our way to the Railton lunch stop where the crew would meet us and raise the rear of the car slightly to cure some slight rubbing issues.
James and Luke diagnose alternator problems on the 2600 - at least the view is nice
The first stage after lunch was Sheffield, and just before its start we met the crew to refuel. The car was running well but when Guy went to restart the engine that awful clicking sound greeted us, signifying a dead battery. James and Luke confirmed that the alternator had stopped charging, the silver lining is that it somehow failed at a rare moment when we were not alone.
Our allocated late time allowance was quickly running out. With no time for a repair, the boys jump-started us and we limped to a nearby service station, fast running out of volts. The ignition system had all but given up as we coughed onto the forecourt and bought two batteries; a new one for the rally car, and another to replace it later that afternoon. We phoned through to the other service car and asked them to purchase a third battery in case we needed it also, and rushed back to the start of the Sheffield stage just within our late time allowance.
On the Castra stage, day three.
With a fresh battery, the Alfa was running well. We ticked off Sheffield and about halfway through the epic Cethana stage we noted that the alternator had resumed its charge, showing a solid 14 on the voltmeter. Guy drove the 2600 harder than he ever has and we placed fifth in Classic Handicap across Cethana, and despite the issues we’d moved up to 11th in class in the event standings. Things were starting to look up.
Our top ten hopes were sadly dashed during the following stage, Castra, when grinding noises of sheer destruction began emanating from the gearbox, gradually becoming worse until we lost drive across the finish line. I had a shred of hope that we could overcome this without completely ruining our event, so from the side of the road we rang around to try and find an Alfa 105 gearbox. I spoke to everyone from an engineer in Melbourne to a dry cleaner in Hobart, and eventually located a gearbox we could use. Guy, Graham and I made the two-hour journey south to collect it while James, Luke and Mike towed the 2600 to a nearby workshop we had arranged to use.
James and Luke removed the gearbox from the 2600, illuminated only by battery work lamp
We returned with the new gearbox to the worst possible news. Not only was the power out and the boys had removed the gearbox in darkness, but once the case was split they had discovered that it was the input shaft which had stripped. Even though Guy’s 2600 is now fitted with a Alfa 105 gearbox, the input shaft is the only part still unique to the 2600. There was zero chance of finding an Alfa 2600 input shaft in rural Tasmania, so we downed tools and retired to our accommodation for a quiet beer or three.
Guy had a spare input shaft in Adelaide, and we reckoned we could get it flown in to Hobart the next afternoon with my girlfriend who was coming to spectate. The problem we faced was one of geography; Hobart is over three hours south from where the 2600 sat dismantled, and day four of the rally saw the event head to the extreme west coast for an overnight stop at Strahan. There was no way that we could get the part to the car and the gearbox rebuilt in time to make Strahan before the field departed, so we elected to tow the dismantled car south to Hobart and reassemble it in Graham’s suburban garage.
Loaded up and ready for the journey south. The 2600 has no gearbox at this stage; its components lay dismantled in the boot, awaiting the new input to arrive from Adelaide
The new input shaft had arrived with the requisite number of teeth. We combined parts to make the best gearbox from the two we had, reinstalled it, confirmed its operation with a midnight test drive and re-joined the rally at the day five lunch stop at New Norfolk. With the new input shaft fitted the 2600 was running better than it ever had, and that afternoon we completed the Molesworth and Grasstree Hill stages on the outskirts of Hobart before parking the car inside the Princes Wharf 1 facility at Salamanca Place for that night’s public event.
In the lineup, ready to depart Prices Wharf 1 on day six of Targa Tasmania 2017
The CSIRO’s Antarctic research ship Auroa Australis made a dramatic backdrop as we filed out of Princes Wharf to begin the final days stages, all based within an easy radius of Hobart and the nearby Huon Valley. The leg would be comprised of six stages, with the 15km Cygnet stage the longest, and would be finished by lunchtime. It would be easy to think of the day as a relaxed jaunt to the line but the stages are some of the most difficult of the event; narrow and extremely bumpy, they are technical and the unexpected compressions, bumps and blind corners across crests provide ample opportunity to cause serious damage and ruin a weeks’ worth of work.
With Luke and James on hand for a refuel but not needing to do anything more than that, we made it back to cross the ceremonial finish in the heart of Salamanca Place. We started the event with the goals of finishing, of earning a Targa Plate by completing all stages within a set time limit, and of having fun. Whilst we missed too many stages to be classed as official finishers and the timesheets show us about four hours’ behind the winning Jensen CV8, we did have fun.
Crossing the official Targa Tasmania finish under blue skies in the centre of Hobart's Salamanca Place
Above all else we made it to Hobart, and regardless of what happens competing at Targa Tasmania is a rare privilege and I feel extremely grateful for the opportunity to be involved. It is also an incredible challenge. Just building a classic car that can cover that distance at speed is no easy task, to then worry about competition and fighting for a result is something else entirely.
We probably won’t be back in 2018, but we most definitely have unfinished business in Tasmania and will certainly return at some point in the future. The challenge and adventure contained in this brilliant event cannot be underestimated, and long may it continue.
Words by Andrew Coles
Photos by Andrew Coles, Luke Jaksa and action shots by Angryman Photography
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