Curbside Classic: 1971 Dino 246 GT – A Supercar For The Superpeople

For this Italian-themed week, we will regale our eyes with a few coupés styled (and sometimes also built) by Pininfarina. We might as well start at an 11 with the legendary Dino, the V6-powered Ferrari that dared not speak its name. But it sure dared to be one of the sexiest beasts ever committed to metal.

It was difficult to pick one. I have at least three Dinos in my files, including a very nice silver one and a blue GTS. But we’ll go with this more traditional red version, as the slightly overcast sky made for much better pictures. And if there were a car that deserves to be showcased in its full glory, it would be this one.

The story of the Dinos (plural, as there were several) started in the late ‘50s. Enzo Ferrari’s son and heir, Alfredino Ferrari, died of muscular dystrophy at the age of 24 in 1956; one of the last projects Dino Ferrari was involved in was to develop a V6 engine for use in Formula 1 and Formula 2. Enzo saw the project through, producing a series of F1/F2 racers between 1957 and 1960 bearing the Dino name.

In the mid-‘60s, having toyed (with limited success) with tiny 4-cyl. sports cars, Enzo decided to resurrect the Dino name with a completely new concept. The FIA’s new Formula 2 regulations, to be implemented in 1967, called for a 1.6 litre engine with at most six cylinders, produced in at least 500 units in road-going cars. The 65° Dino V6, designed back in 1956, was still perfect for the job.

This was a lot of engines though, so Ferrari teamed up with Fiat: the Dino V6 would be made by Ferrari with Fiat’s money, and Turin would get to use it for a new range-topping front-engined sports car of their own. Ferrari would also use the small V6, but it would sit in the middle of a new budget supercar, to be styled by none other than Pininfarina – by this time, Ferrari’s default couturier.

The first step was to develop a Formula 2 racer, though. The Dino 166 P (“P” for “posterior,” as previous Dinos were front-engined) was campaigned as a sports prototype in 1965, both in 1.5 and 2-litre variants. At the Paris Motor Show later that year, a stunner of a 166 P Berlinetta was displayed on Pininfarina’s stand, previewing the road-legal shape of the new small Ferrari – as well as the face of the Fiat Dino Spider. The V6 was mounted longitudinally, which made these first prototypes significantly longer than the finished product, where the engine sat east-west.

The finalized road car, featuring the 2-litre V6 tuned to 178hp, was unveiled at the Turin Motor Show in late 1967, with deliveries set to start in early 1968. Suspension was independent all around, with double wishbones and coils both in the front and the rear. In effect, a true supercar, but aimed at the sports car market.

The first series cars, known as Dino 206 GT, were built by Scaglietti – a Modenese coachbuilder that logically developed very close links to the Ferrari works, though it still wore Pininfarina’s name on its flanks. The designer usually credited with the Dino’s authorship is Aldo Brovarone, who penned the 1965 prototype; the shortened and heavily facelifted production version was Leonardo Fioravanti’s work, building upon Brovarone’s masterful first draft and adding the obligatory quad taillamps. Just because it’s not wearing a Ferrari badge didn’t mean there should be any doubt as to the Dino’s true identity and provenance.

The flying buttresses and that amazing backlight are one of the Dino’s most innovative and influential ideas. Other solutions for early mid-engined cars, such as the Matra-Bonnet Djet’s bubble hatch or the Lotus Europa’s mail-slot-sized aperture, proved far less convincing. Only the Lamborghini Miura’s slatted back ended up as a genuine alternative.

In late 1969, the Dino became the 246 GT. This meant the V6 was upped to 2418cc and 192hp, but it also entailed a lot of other modifications. The body used to be all aluminium, but now only the doors, hood and boot lid were made from that metal – the rest was now steel, as a cost-saving measure. Scaglietti carried on as body-maker, albeit at a larger scale, as the car grew a bit and sales really started to take off.

The wheelbase was stretched by 5cm (2 in.), the fuel filler became hidden under a flap in the left flying buttress and the engine cover gained an additional pair of vents, but none of these little modifications affected the car’s stunning profile in any way.

The added weight brought by the longer wheelbase and steel construction were offset by the larger engine, so the car’s excellent dynamics remained as good as they were with the 206 GT. Top speed was claimed to be in excess of 235kph (146mph) and 0-60mph was attained in 6.1 seconds – over a second less than the Porsche 911S, which was the Dino’s main rival.

The interior was as gorgeous as the rest. It’s a little bit uniformly black for my taste, but the design is pure Swinging Sixties stylishness. Pininfarina really outdid themselves.

This was the first mid-engined Ferrari, even if it’s not called that, and featured the marque’s first (and, until very recently, only) production 6-cyl., but where it really broke new ground was in production numbers. The 206 GT was little more than a trial run (152 units made), but when the 246 GT’s production run ended in late 1973, over 2500 had been made, plus over 1200 targa-topped GTS. This was a lot for a carmaker like Ferrari, who had barely broken the thousand-unit mark with a couple of their previous models.

The appeal lay in the race-bred V6 and the near-perfect weight distribution, to be sure. But the role of Pininfarina in the car’s success cannot be overstated, either. Those come-hither looks must have caused many an ulcer in the banking profession. How many great chassis were hampered in the marketplace by bizarre, underwhelming or over-the-top styling?

The second iteration of the Dino, powered by a V8 and dressed as a four-seater by Bertone, was a completely different wedge-shaped animal. While it is also a classic in its own right, there is no question that the first Dino is the one that belongs on one’s wall and in one’s heart – short of actually being in one’s garage. Unless you’re one of those superpeople.

 

Related posts:

 

Curbside Comparison: 1970 Ferrari Dino 246GT and 1967 Fiat Dino Spider – Beautiful Sisters, by Filippo

In-Motion Classic: Ferrari Dino 246 GTS, by Chris O’Bryant

Vintage R&T Review: 1972 Dino 246 GT – “Ferrari’s Version Of The 6-Cylinder Business Coupe”, by PN