by Tom Rubython
Immediately, Hunt indulged himself from the first class drinks trolley. He was soon paralytically drunk and encouraged Leapy Lee, then a well-known personality, to serenade the other first class passengers with his hit single ‘Tie a Yellow Ribbon.’ Lee declined, but Hunt sang it anyway. The other passengers, particularly one female member of the De Beers family, was so thoroughly fed up with Hunt she asked the captain to radio ahead to the airport and report Hunt’s behaviour.
As Hunt had not been rude to anyone or even unpleasant – just raucous and noisy – there was little the police could do. But they were well aware who he was and decided to make his entry into South Africa as difficult as possible, perhaps hoping to provoke a reaction for which they might arrest him.
On his arrival, Hunt and his luggage were thoroughly searched and he was questioned closely by customs officials. They appeared to be looking for recreational drugs, but found none. He was carrying a copy of Penthouse magazine, which contained within it an article about him and Niki Lauda. Penthouse was illegal in South Africa, and the police considered arresting him for that. But thinking better of it, the magazine was simply confiscated.
News circulated that Hunt had been detained, and journalists gathered at the airport exit to see if he came out. Still drunk, he told them that South Africa was a “police state” and “very rude to foreigners.” But he added that it didn’t matter because, “the South African girls are terrific and I’m available.” His words were picked up by a wire agency and printed on the front page of every single newspaper in South Africa the following day.
He also told the journalists that his detention made him late for his first promotional engagement at a women’s circle dinner, where he said he was to be guest of honour. Whether that was true or not, no one knew.
Recovering quickly, Hunt was at Kyalami early next morning to test the new McLaren-Ford M26 car. But the test was curtailed quickly when a brake caliper failed and destroyed a tyre at high speed. The M26 went off the track at around 140 miles per hour, broke through rows of catch fencing and stopped just in front of an earth bank. Hunt told local journalists covering the test sessions: “I investigated the catch fencing rather more thoroughly than was comfortable, and fortunately it worked very well.”
Hunt didn’t know why McLaren were persisting with the M26. He thought they should focus on the M23 for a sixth season of development. But Caldwell was adamant that it wouldn’t be good enough, sensing it was at the end of its development potential.
But Hunt knew the M26 was a dog as soon as he drove it, as he said later: “I can tell you in ten laps if a car is worth pursuing. I could do the ten laps, come in and say: ‘Throw it away, start again’, but no-one’s ever got the balls to do it.”
Hunt’s view of the M26 was: “Let’s not mess about with it; it’s not going to work, forget it. Make another one and we’ll see if that works.” But Caldwell didn’t rate Hunt’s opinion.
A week later, after much hedonism at the Kyalami Ranch Hotel and, as if to emphasise his point, Hunt scored yet another pole position; it was his third in a row in the old McLaren-Ford M23. Carlos Pace was second and Lauda third fastest, with Patrick Depailler making up the second row of the grid in fourth slot.
Hunt led from the start until Lauda blasted past on the long straight on lap seven. A few laps later, very keen to impress his home crowd, Jody Scheckter came up behind him.
As Scheckter’s Wolf pulled alongside on the inside of the entry to the corner, Hunt refused to give ground and they negotiated the corner side by side, wheels banging together as Hunt gave way to his friend.
Afterwards, Hunt was surprisingly sanguine about Scheckter’s maneuver considering the way he had pursued Patrick Depailler at Long Beach the year before. He dismissed it as nothing: “Oh, it’s all right if it’s wheel-to-wheel. It’s when you get a wheel between the others that it gets a bit dodgy.”
Hunt hadn’t forgotten Depailler, however, and when he fell back into the clutches of the Frenchman, he shut the door on the Tyrrell-Ford in the middle of a corner and Depailler almost went into the barrier. But Hunt, somewhat shocked at the near miss, quickly gave way to him and then ran to the finish in fourth place as Niki Lauda’s Ferrari won the race. It was his first victory since his accident and a seminal moment for the Austrian.
Lauda’s victory seemed to cheer up Hunt, as he said: ‘I was very pleased that Niki won the race. In my opinion, he has been driving as well as ever since Canada last year and I have been expecting him to win ever since. The pleasing thing is that this will silence once and for all the critics and nonbelievers who were stupid enough to think he had lost his nerve.”
After the race however, there was little celebrating when the drivers learned that Welshman Tom Pryce had been killed on lap 23 in a freak accident. Pryce was in the wrong place at the wrong time when two marshals had irresponsibly run across the track to put out a fire in Pryce’s teammate’s car. It was not a life-threatening fire for Renzo Zorzi, whose car had pulled off at the start of Kyalami’s long straight.
One marshal made it across but the other carrying a heavy fire extinguisher didn’t. The marshal, a South African called Jansen van Vuuren, was hit by Pryce’s Shadow-Ford and killed instantly. Pryce was knocked out by the impact with the extinguisher but his car carried on at around 160 miles an hour down the straight. It eventually hit a barrier and glanced off straight into the path of Jacques Laffite’s Ligier. Both cars were buried in the catch fencing. A shaken Laffite stepped out of his car, but it turned out that Pryce was already dead from the impact with the marshal’s fire extinguisher.
Lauda’s mechanics found a piece of Pryce’s suspension lodged underneath his Ferrari, but Hunt had not seen the accident and did not know about it until afterwards. When he heard of it, he was stunned that such a thing could happen on a Formula One standard track. He said: “Until there are professional marshals trained to a high standard and with suitable experience, there will be unnecessary deaths or injuries in motor racing. The sport should provide the facilities and money for professionally-trained and experienced marshals, and if it has taken Tom’s death to impress this upon the authorities then he will not have died in vain.”
Apart from not getting any results, Hunt had had a magnificent start to the season. His McLaren-Ford M23, breathed on over the winter by Alastair Caldwell and his men, was unexpectedly competitive and he felt that the championship was his for the taking.
To make that point, Hunt returned to Britain the following week to compete in the non-championship Race of Champions Formula One event at Brands Hatch. Around half the regular drivers competed and the only notable team not to enter was Ferrari. John Watson did the duties for Brabham-Alfa Romeo while Carlos Pace stayed in Brazil.
But the result didn’t matter as, on Friday evening before the race, Carlos Pace was killed in a light airplane crash in Brazil. On Saturday morning, the news came through to the Brands Hatch paddock and the Brabham team owner, Bernie Ecclestone. Ecclestone was absolutely devastated by the news. Not only had Pace been his driver, he had also been a very close friend. It was the closest relationship Ecclestone had had with a driver since Jochen Rindt had died.
Although Pace had only won one race and had not been in Formula One for very long, his stature was far greater than his achievements. He was universally popular and beloved in a way that drivers like Carlos Reutemann were not. After he died, the principal Formula One circuit in São Paulo was renamed in his honour.
Ecclestone did his best to mask his emotions, and when Watson asked him if the Brabham team would withdraw from the race, he told him: “The guy was doing what he wanted to do and he would have wanted us to race.” Ecclestone was a hard man, but Pace was the fourth driver he had lost in seven years. That evening, away from the track, he broke down with pure grief.
Watson went out on the track that afternoon to qualify. He drove a devastating lap and got pole. Hunt had not really known Carlos Pace well at all, but he felt the sense of u
nease that hung over the paddock that day. The next day, Hunt saw off the challenge from Watson and won the race with ease. His confidence could not have been higher as he flew off to New York to meet up with his girlfriend, Jane Birbeck, who was working at a picture agency representing photographers. After a few days with Birbeck, he then took the red eye flight to Los Angeles. From there, a car picked him up and took him to Long Beach, where he was to be paid US$10,000 by the promoter Chris Pook for a few days’ work making personal appearances to promote the United States Grand Prix West.
Hunt was dubious about the job as he had heard less than complimentary things about Pook, who some people regarded as a chancer. Consequently, Hunt wanted his money in advance. But Pook fobbed him off and Hunt told him he would not do the work until he was paid. Hunt was only reassured after speaking to Bernie Ecclestone, and he agreed to wait until qualifying for his money. Pook was planning to pay him from ticket receipts.
Worried by Pook’s refusal to pay him, Hunt also called John Hogan, who was in London at the time. As Hogan remembered: “He phoned up from Long Beach and whimpered about the situation, and I could sense then he was just about to go off the rails.” But interestingly, Hunt didn’t tell Hogan the real nature of his dispute with Pook.
Hogan’s legendary sixth sense sniffed a problem, and he called up Patrick McNally, who then worked in promotions for Philip Morris. Hogan recalls: “I said to Paddy, who was on holiday: ‘Paddy, go out there and hold his hand’, so that’s what Paddy did.”
McNally was so good at hand-holding that Hogan appointed him Hunt’s permanent minder; a job he did for two years. McNally was a former top journalist whom Hogan had lured to Philip Morris. He would later go on to head Allsport, the circuit trackside adverting agency. He also invented the Paddock Club hospitality concept and would make a great deal of money.
Hogan was surprised to hear about the dispute with Pook: “James shouldn’t have been paid for it anyway. There was no need to be paid; it was our promotion.”
When race weekend got underway, on Friday 1st April, interest was high thanks to Hunt’s efforts in the previous two weeks. But Formula One was short two of its best drivers, and the mood was sombre as people realised that Tom Pryce and Carlos Pace, both undoubtedly future world champions, would never again grace a Formula One paddock. Alan Jones, the young Australian, replaced Pryce, and Hans Stuck Jr was in Pace’s car.
Unfortunately, the race also marked the end of James Hunt’s period of dominance in Formula One, and he was never again to be the main man. Lauda had regained that crown and underlined it with a brilliant pole position. Hunt wasn’t even in the battle for pole, finishing up eighth on the grid. Even Emerson Fittipaldi’s Copersucar bested him.
Lauda was now fully back to his best after his brilliant victory in South Africa. He had seen off the challenge from Carlos Reutemann for team leadership.
Hunt’s lack of form was not completely explained by his distaste for street circuits and tight tracks. Whether Hunt was affected by his now public falling-out with Pook is unclear. It had been resolved when Pook handed him some cash, but the unseemly wrangling had left him in a dark mood. Hunt was angry with Pook because he had put his heart and soul into the promotions and spent a hectic week in California. Some days there was nothing Hunt hated more than being under-appreciated, and this was one of them. But with McNally and Hogan on hand, he got through the weekend intact emotionally, although it was a low point.
Unaccustomed to his low grid position, Hunt’s McLaren hit the rear wheel of John Watson’s Brabham-Alfa Romero and he was launched into the air. Watson remembers getting a full view of the underside of Hunt’s car for a brief scary moment as it soared over his head. The car landed square on all four wheels and, amazingly, Hunt carried on and managed to finish seventh. Scheckter, Andretti and Lauda battled for the lead, which Andretti eventually won. Andretti’s victory marked the beginning of the ground-effect era in Formula One, although no one knew it at the time.
McLaren was all at sea again after its American debacle. Caldwell and Mayer decided it was entirely the fault of the long-in-the-tooth McLaren M23 – forgetting the dominance of the car in the opening races of the season. So the McLaren-Ford M26 was finally wheeled out for a race debut, 18 months after it had first appeared. But the car was effectively already out of date, made obsolete by ground effects. It was no M23, but just about held its own in 1977.
The Spanish Grand Prix was held over the weekend of 7th-8th May, and in qualifying Hunt managed to launch his new car into the air again, this time off the front wheel of Watson’s teammate Hans Stuck Jr. Stuck was not as sanguine as Watson had been. When Stuck tackled Hunt outside the Marlboro motorhome, Hunt looked round, sneered at him and walked into the motorhome without a word, slamming the door right in Stuck’s face.
Andretti won his second victory of the year from pole position as Hunt, starting in seventh place on the grid, retired on lap ten with a broken engine after making no impact in the race. Hunt was further annoyed when his teammate Jochen Mass got fourth place in his old M23. Battling hard to beat Mass in qualifying, he became convinced that bringing the new car to Spain had been a huge mistake.
For the Monaco Grand Prix on 22nd May, Hunt reverted to his old McLaren-Ford M23 car, but development had stopped on the car. Not that it mattered. Hunt hated Monaco and had never done well there. His driving style and McLaren cars were simply not suited to tight street circuits.
Hunt had another problem at Monte Carlo. It was the perfect hedonist’s playground, and he was the ultimate hedonist. He was welcome on every yacht in the harbor, and it seemed that he managed to visit most of them over the weekend. Unable to remain sober, his performance was affected the day after. No driver could get away with such behaviour at the Monaco circuit, which requires the sharpest concentration and maximum rest at night in order to succeed.
John Watson got pole with his Brabham-Alfa Romeo and Jody Scheckter won the race. Hunt’s engine blew up halfway through on lap 25. The race also marked the debut of young Italian Ricardo Patrese, who had replaced Renzo Zorzi in the Shadow team. Patrese would become hugely significant in Hunt’s life in later years.
With Monaco and Long Beach out of the way, Hunt started looking forward to the rest of the season. The Belgian Grand Prix on 5th June was almost a bun fight as 32 cars competed for the 26 starting positions. Competing in Formula One had never been so popular or so cheap. It seemed that anyone and anybody could buy a second-hand car and an old Cosworth DFV engine and enter a Grand Prix.
Mario Andretti was starting to become dominant in his Lotus-Ford 78, with its sliding skirts controlling airflow under the car. It was called ‘ground effects’ and Colin Chapman and his aerodynamicist Peter Wright had discovered ground effects completely by accident the previous year and grafted it onto the Lotus 78 design. Although the car was a compromise on tight circuits, it had vastly superior grip. As the car was developed, Andretti and his young Swedish teammate, Gunnar Nilsson became more competitive. At Zolder, Andretti got pole and Nilsson was third. Only John Watson could get close to the Lotuses and he split them on the grid. Hunt was back in his McLaren M26 and could only manage ninth on the grid.
Race morning dawned and it was raining. Hunt was desperate for an edge, as he knew his car was uncompetitive. He gambled on starting on dry slick tyres, but the gamble failed and the rain persisted. Andretti took out Watson on the start line, leaving Nilsson to win the race. It was as simple as that. Hunt came in seventh.
Getting on for halfway through the season, Hunt believed he was driving better than he had done in 1976, yet his season was becoming a shambles. The team, buoyed by what had occurred in 1976, were lulled into a false sense of security by the underlying notion that they had time to turn it around. In truth, Hunt had been very lucky in 1976 and lady luck wasn’t going to favour him two years running.
Hunt was perhaps the first to realise that 1977 was not going to be a repeat of 1976. Sensing that the demise of the M2
3 meant he would never again be competitive, he wanted the team to develop a whole new car for 1978 with ground effects built in. On the track, Hunt could see what Andretti and Nilsson were doing with the extra grip of the Lotus 78. But McLaren no longer had the technical expertise to design a good new car. Gordon Coppuck, now in his forties, was a much less potent force than he had been. He simply didn’t grasp the ground effects concept at all. Equally, while Alastair Caldwell was a mighty fine engineer, it stopped there.
Teddy Mayer’s era at McLaren was also running out. Mayer was past his best and McLaren would never again be successful with him in charge. Hunt was stuck at his peak, and found himself in his prime on the tail-end of Mayer’s glory days. It was not a pleasant place to be. In fact, Hunt likened Mayer in 1977 to General Robert E. Lee at the battle of Gettysburg in 1863. It was an unusual comparison, but in hindsight very prescient.
Mayer was all washed up, although he would not finally exit Formula One until a decade and many millions of wasted dollars later, as he tried desperately to recapture the glorious mid-seventies.
Lauda and Scheckter were fighting for the world championship, and Hunt was down in ninth place with barely a handful of points. But publicly, in an uncharacteristic display of loyalty, Hunt now defended his team and Mayer to the hilt, saying: “I know the only thing that will convince them that this is bullshit is for us to get a few results. All I can say until those results come is that I intend to retain my championship.” That may have been a forlorn dream, but he added: “What people don’t realise is that winning is easy. Losing is the thing that’s bloody hard work.” It certainly was at McLaren.
At the Swedish Grand Prix at Anderstorp, the M26 at last began to show some promise. Hunt qualified third behind Watson and Andretti but the race was utterly dominated by Frenchman Jacques Laffite in his V12 Matra-engined Ligier car, which suddenly came good. With Laffite’s victory, 1977 was shaping up to be a year when no particular car or driver dominated. Six teams and seven drivers – Andretti at Lotus; Laffite at Ligier; Hunt at McLaren; Lauda and Reutemann at Ferrari; Peterson at Tyrrell; and Watson at Brabham – were all capable of winning races.
