Ferrari's worst F1 cars: The hall of lame

F186 (1986)

There have been less successful Ferraris than the F186 (it did score podium finishes) but it was Maranello’s only turbo car to fail to win a race.

Stefan Johansson (above), one of its unlucky pedallers: “Neither myself nor Michele [Alboreto] had seen drawings of it before we saw it in the flesh when we went to Maranello for the seat fitting. We glanced at each other as if to say, ‘This doesn’t look good!’ It just didn’t look fast.

“There wasn’t one thing horrendously bad with it, just overall it was not a very good car. There was a lack of downforce, not very good traction — not the greatest car they ever produced. It was good enough to be in the points at most races, just about, and did finish fifth in the championship. But it was never a winner.” AC

312 B3 (1973)

This nomenclature describes several modifications on the same basic idea, — none of which worked, whatever the weight distribution — but is not to be confused with the impressive ‘driver-forward’ design of the same name that proved so fleet in 1974 and became the basis of the phenomenal 312T.

Designed in Italy by Mauro Forghieri, built in Northamptonshire by John Thompson, and driven to very little effect by Jacky Ickx (left) and Arturo Merzario, the B3 was a clunker. It got its debut in Ickx’ s hands at round four of the season, and qualified sixth — but that was as good as it got. The car didn’t provide feedback to its driver, Jacky’s own communication with chief engineer Gioacchino Colombo was similarly poor, and inevitably motivation took a dive. Sometimes the Belgian star could barely summon the pace to stay ahead of new boy Merzario, and his pitiful collection of three points with B3 ruined his F1 career. Still, at least this disaster spurred the team into one of its greatest eras. DM

310 (1996)

Michael Schumacher’s first Ferrari won three races — but it was a dog. His team-mate was Eddie Irvine (above).

“That car introduced me to the concept of pitch sensitivity,” recalls Irvine. “It affected brake balance, performance over bumps, and balance into, through and out of corners. Michael won in Spain, but in the wet you don’t have big changes in attitude. Aerodynamically it was awful — the twin-floor was the big issue. Eventually we smoothed off the edge, put a 5mm radius on it, and found 0.5sec around Monza.

“Also, we had the pitlane limiter set too sharp. When it came on, it set up a big reverse in that gear. One or two laps after every pitstop, the car would stop altogether. It took them a long time to figure it out, but it cost me five non-finishes in a row.” AC

Ferrari’s 533 ‘Squalo’ of 1954, its first spaceframe car, should have been a significant improvement over the stopgap 625, which was essentially a 2.5-litre version of the all-conquering ’53 F2 car. it had a more powerful, though still four-cylinder, engine, a lower centre of gravity, and designer Lampredi had attempted to endow it with quicker responses through a more centralised mass.

The drivers hated it. Twitchy on fast circuits, understeery on slow ones, it was little wonder the drivers usually insisted on the faithful 625. A switch to coil-spring front suspension improved it and Hawthorn won the Spanish GP.

‘Supersqualo’ (above) was meant to build on this in 1955, thanks to revised weight distribution. The drivers hated it — and usually insisted on the 625.

Paul Frère recalled in Alan Henry’s Ferrari, the Grand Prix Cars: “It was a real beast around Monaco, it just wanted to plough straight on at the hairpins.”

Ferrari was lucky that Lancia then had to cast its D50 ‘pearls’ before it. MH

“My dream of a Ferrari drive in 1992 turned into a nightmare,” says Ivan Capelli (whose team-mate Jean Alesi is shown above). “The twin-floor car was meant to generate more airflow to the rear and increase downforce, but it didn’t work. Its weight caused extra roll which upset its dynamics.