1962 Nemesis review

One-off race cars were being cobbled up in sheds in the 1960s. Many disappeared, some survived - like this Nemesis

From a dirt-floor garage to Victory Lane, then a chook shed and finally back to the race track: That’s the (very) potted history of this gorgeous little sports-racing car. That it involved two continents and happened over seven decades just makes the story even spicier.

The yarn kicks off in that dirt-floored shed we were talking about, when, way back in the late 1950s, a hands-on South Australian by the name of Peter Goodale started piecing spindly bits of metal together until he had something that more or less resembled a space-frame sports car. Peter had been working in the UK in the aviation industry in the early 60s and along the way he had collected a few choice bits and pieces for the project he had in mind. To those, he added a small but highly tuned Ford engine, a fibreglass body and just enough other bits to call it a car. Then he named it Nemesis (the ancient Greek god of ex-partners).

Pressing on at the Island historics

If you look closely, you’ll see the rounded fibreglass body bears at least some resemblance to the Sydney-built JWF Milano body from around the same era. But rather than call it a copy, it’s probably more accurate to suggest that, back then, there was a particular `look’ that people building racing one-offs (and there were a lot of them) were chasing. And let’s also not forget that the JWF Milano was, itself, a bit of a Ferrari knock-off in the first place. Either way, the Nemesis needs to be described as beautifully proportioned and delicate-looking, way before any debate on its influences takes place.

By the time the mid-60s had rolled around, Mr Goodale was moving on to other things so the car was sold to a young Melbourne fella called Dick Sorensen. Dick, recognising the car was something he had to have, borrowed the money from his father on the pretence of buying something sensible, and came home with the Nemesis. Father was, apparently, not too impressed.

Dick, by his own admission, did a lot of winning with that little car between 1966 and 1968.

“In fact, in the two years I raced it, I only lost one race. And that one was at the Lake Hume circuit (near Albury on the NSW-Victorian border) when I was trying to set a lap record. Instead, I ended up in a hay bale.”

But as with all things, time moved on and Dick sold the car to Ken Girvan, a Kyneton, Victoria local. But that’s kind of where the trail goes a bit cold.

Richard after another run at the Island

Until 2004, That is, when Dick rediscovered the car in a chook shed. Dick’s son, Richard, who drives the car these days recalls that all that was identifiable was the bespoke chassis.

“But when we looked, it was all there. But it was rusty and in a million bits,” he says.

Richard recalls that a quick inventory revealed that everything was present and accounted for, but in pretty horrible condition.

“The original, sporty Ford (timber-rimmed) steering wheel was there,” he remembers, “but all the wood was missing.”

But figuring it was meant to be, the Sorensens bought the car where it sat, gathered up the bits and pieces and took it that same year to South Africa where the family was by then living. It was raced there, too, but in 2016, Sorensen the elder moved back to Australia so, naturally, the car came with him. Which, more or less, is how it came to be at the recent Philip Island Historic meeting, running in fundamentally 1967 trim, as that’s how it raced when Dick owned it the first time and was giving winning lessons to anybody else on the same grid.

Ford engine fed by twin Weber carbs

“We’ve been very careful not to change it functionally,” son Richard explains. “The only changes have been in the interests of reliability.”

These days, it’s also Richard who does the pedalling, and he reckons it’s a pretty entertaining car to drive, even with the limited power compared with some of the more modern stuff the car is lumped in with at many historic meetings.

A breeze to work on

“It handles really well. That’s its strength. It can feel a bit nervous at the limit, but I drive it at about nine-tenths, and I’ll beat whoever I can.”

To break the vehicle down, it all starts with that hand-made spaceframe made from small-diameter tube. It incorporates mounts for the double wishbone suspension at each end, and while the rear uprights have a bit of classy heritage (they’re from a Lotus 11) the fronts are pure blue-collar Triumph Herald.

The diff is a magnesium-cased BMC diff with inboard brakes and the gearbox is a billet-case Ford four-speed. Nobody seems to know where the steering rack came from, but these days it runs a two-to-one reducer to quicken it up on the double. Richard reckons it could be faster still as he finds himself chasing the corners on a fast track like Philip Island. And while the car would originally have been fitted with Cooper Wobblies, these days it has a weird two-piece wheel where the centre stays on the car, and only the rim is unbolted to change rubber.

The engine is more or less as it was raced in the 60s with a standard crank limiting the revs to about 7500. The 1500cc Kent pre-crossflow is fitted with sturdier pistons, Carrillo-style con-rods and there’s a giant pair of 45mm Webers hanging off the side. Richard reckons it’s probably good for about 175 horsepower and on the diff ratio fitted, it’ll nudge past the redline up to about 8000rpm, at which point the gearing says it’s doing 225 down the main straight at PI. At which point, it would certainly have the attention of those chooks it once shared lodgings with.

The Sorensens are these days, a truly global family, with Richard now living and working in Singapore and travelling to race the car. That also means that the family appreciates a helping hand with logistics and that’s where Clive Massel of Makulu Vehicle Storage came in, for the recent Philip Island Historic meeting where we caught up with the Sorensens and the Nemesis. Clive helped out with storage, and a tow vehicle and without efforts like that, a lot of historic racing just couldn’t happen.

Nice one.