Murena 429GT: practicality with power

To use marketing speak du jour, Murena would nowadays be labelled a boutique brand, but its products were bought in.

The sill plate on the driver’s side leaves you in no doubt, manufacture having been subcontracted to an outfit where myth and countermyth often overlap. It simply reads: ‘Intermeccanica.’

The Murena 429GT, to give the car its full name, was conceived by Charlie Schwendler, whose father, Bill, was co-founder of the Grumman Aircraft Engineering Corporation.

His collaborator and foil was marketing man (and sometime Marcos concessionaire) Joseph Vos.

A Nardi steering wheel frames Jaeger dials in the Murena 429GT’s cabin

Both were hardened car enthusiasts and equally ardent skiers.

This left them with a conundrum: they could take their respective sports cars on their trips to the mountains (Schwendler was very much a Porsche man), but with their kit strapped down externally.

Alternatively, they could opt for an estate car in which there was plenty of room to stow their gear – the problem being that the drive to the slopes wouldn’t be much fun.

The pals then had a lightbulb moment: what if they combined the best attributes of a sports car with the practicality of a station wagon?

Intermeccanica Automobili was tasked with designing and building the Murena 429GT

This ultimately led them to Intermeccanica Automobili.

In February, 1968, Vos cut short his holiday in the Swiss Alps to drop by the factory.

This storied marque, founded by Hungarian émigré Frank Reisner, had thus far produced a bewildering array of models, most of them selling in quite small numbers.

They spanned everything from Steyr-Puch-based micro-GTs to Formula Junior single-seaters, via elegant Italian-American V8 roadsters and a Ford Mustang shooting brake conversion. It was nothing if not eclectic.

The Murena 429GT has a three-speed automatic gearbox

From the outside, at least, Intermeccanica appeared to be the perfect fit to realise their vision, but Vos didn’t receive the warmest of receptions.

It was only after Reisner was reassured that he wasn’t a tax inspector that relations thawed and they were able to get down to business.

Vos mapped out what he and Schwendler wanted in the very broadest of strokes, and left it to their new-found affiliate to make it happen.

However, rather than simply building two cars for the ski buddies, Reisner reckoned that it made more sense financially to produce 10: they could recoup their investment by selling the other eight.

The Murena 429GT combines a practical body with muscle-car power

The partners could also circumnavigate the expense of developing a car from scratch by simply reworking proprietary fodder.

In this instance, the Ford Thunderbird was given the beauty treatment, purportedly by the great Franco Scaglione.

This hugely gifted – if troubled – artist shaped everything from the NSU Sport Prinz to the Alfa Romeo BAT styling studies.

The ex-Bertone man was by that stage a pen-for-hire who worked closely with Intermeccanica on several projects and, in time, became a shareholder.

The V8-powered Murena 429GT was built in Turin, Italy

He was, in effect, the firm’s in-house designer, albeit one who continued to work elsewhere.

For this project, the Florentine had a vast canvas with which to work, but he managed to create a two-door ‘sports wagon’ that didn’t appear utilitarian.

However, sketches exist that suggest the design was mapped out by Scaglione’s ally, Ivo Barison.

This unheralded stylist and design critic worked with the likes of Antonio Scioneri, Alfredo Vignale, Francis Lombardi and the Fissore brothers.

This Murena 429GT’s wheels are wrapped in Pirelli rubber

He was a jobbing freelancer who at that time was employed mostly by Eurostyle in Turin, with projects spanning a 16-cylinder would-be supercar and the Ford V6-powered LMX Sirex.

The latter briefly made a splash in Continental Europe and has long been attributed to Scaglione, a man not given to crowing about his achievements, but it appears to have been largely the work of his friend.

It has been suggested that the Murena was another collaborative project – there’s no ‘I’ in team and all that.

The Murena 429GT’s stretched, Italianate styling disguises its Ford Thunderbird origins

By the time the prototype had been completed and exhibited at the 1969 New York Auto Show, Vos and Schwendler announced plans to ramp up production.

The former claimed that 200 orders had been placed.

That figure was then ratcheted down to 38, according to the September 1970 edition of Road & Track magazine. Either way, matters had taken a turn for the worse.

With a list price of $14,950, the Murena 429GT was egregiously expensive: you could have bought two Chevrolet Corvettes for the same money and had plenty of change.

Some of the Murena 429GT’s switchgear is on the cheap side

Even so, the 1970 Motor Trend World Automotive Yearbook gushed: ‘The Murena GT exudes a “cost no object” aura that makes one and all feel as if they have been to the manor born.’

The beautiful people flocked to buy 429GTs, or at least legend suggests they did.

Elvis Presley purportedly bought two Murenas; Frank Sinatra and Sammy Davis Jnr owned a car apiece, if you believe the dealer selling a used Murena 40 years ago.

‘The tail squats, the nose rises in powerboat style and the Murena spins its rear tyres with nonchalant ease’

These ‘facts’ have been regurgitated umpteen times ever since.

What is known for sure is that a member of rock group Iron Butterfly acquired one straight off the showroom floor from Murena Motors’ West Coast agent in Beverly Hills.

He purchased another example shortly thereafter, having comprehensively demolished the original.

Ford’s own Lee Iaccoca was also a fan, having borrowed a car for evaluation.

The Murena 429GT’s styling was apparently a joint effort by Franco Scaglione and Ivo Barison

The Blue Oval even agreed to provide running gear at favourable rates, and helped Murena Motors to homologate the 429GT.

Nevertheless, there were barriers to success that couldn’t be vaulted.

The partners might have had a full order book, but conspicuously lacking was a reliable supplier.

Intermeccanica wasn’t immune to the political and industrial ructions occurring in Italy, and production was of the staccato kind.

The Murena 429GT’s 7-litre V8 is basic, but effective

The stop-start nature of manufacture had a knock-on effect on deliveries.

The sort of person who could afford a Murena wasn’t about to wait six months, only to be told they might have to wait another three.

Vos and Schwendler threw in the towel after 10 cars had been built.

The final 429GT had arrived in March 1970, before the few road tests appeared in print; the Murena pictured here was built in December of the previous year.

The Murena 429GT is best suited to long, straight roads

Its early life remains a mystery, but it has not lost the power to stun.

At 6350mm (250in) from stem to stern, 1930mm (76in) wide and 1270mm (50in) tall, the 429GT takes up plenty of acreage, while the choice of colour lends it a funereal air.

The outline intrigues all the same, the Murena being largely devoid of extraneous styling tinsel.

If nothing else, a sinister-looking two-door shooting brake is noticeable.

The Murena 429GT has a big glasshouse and an airy cabin

Not all 1960s Italian GTs were lovely inside, and this one appears strangely unfinished.

The classic Nardi steering wheel and attractive Jaeger instruments are present and correct, but the slab-like dash, exposed screwheads and Ford switchgear let the side down.

That said, there are plenty of electric doodads – not least the rear window, which drops down like an upside-down guillotine.

The Murena 429GT’s electrically operated rear window slides down into the tailgate if desired

The piscine logo on the steering boss is comically cool, too, the Murena tag having being coined by chance in 1969.

While ordering a seafood salad in Turin, Vos couldn’t identify one of the ingredients.

His dining companion explained that it was a murena, a ferocious type of moray eel indigenous to Sardinia. The name stuck.

The Murena logo depicts a Mediterranean eel

The view ahead doesn’t exactly scream Italian exotica, either.

Fire up and you are left in no doubt that this is essentially a dressed-up Ford Thunderbird, one packing a 7033cc bent-eight that its makers claimed produced 360bhp in standard form.

This one has been tuned somewhat, but nobody is entirely sure of the precise horsepower figure.

It sounds angry, thanks in no small part to the lack of meaningful noise suppression.

You will hear the Murena 429GT before you see it

The ‘wuggeta-wuggeta’ soundtrack when cruising becomes a bass growl when pressed, and even the slightest caress of the throttle pedal ushers in more commotion.

It’s hilarious and also a bit unnerving, because the 429GT weighs roughly 1000lb (454kg) less than the donor car.

However, there is a flipside to the entertainment provided by 429 cubic inches of Detroit goodness, and this becomes apparent on encountering a corner.

It isn’t as though the Murena doesn’t handle, more that it isn’t particularly nimble, while the brakes (discs up front, drums at the rear) don’t inspire confidence.

Easy cruising is the Murena 429GT’s forte

The power-steering set-up isn’t exactly vague, but it isn’t much else, either. If anything, it feels heavier than expected at low speeds.

The nose washes out first, as you might imagine: it understeers appreciably.

Turn in and the weight transfer is palpable, but you have to be careful applying power again in case the tail starts flailing.

Given the close proximity of stone walls, hedgerows and suchlike on the island, it would probably take out a cottage or two before righting itself.

The Murena 429GT’s low-slung chairs

Without wishing to damn the Murena with faint praise, this was clearly a car intended for the autostrada or an arrow-straight desert road. 

Where the car really scores is in its ease of use when being tickled along.

Road & Track complained in period about clunks and clonks, but that isn’t the case here.

There are no creaks, groans or shudders through the structure. It soaks up the bumps with a ride quality that’s better than that of most modern-day sports saloons.

The Murena 429GT’s speedometer reads to 180mph

You could call it cynicism, but past experience of small-volume exotica leads you to expect comedy ergonomics and the giddying aroma of Araldite. Yet there are no such terrors.

Nothing is a reach away, while the steering wheel doesn’t rest on your lap.

The instruments are easily legible – the speedometer reads to 180mph – and you can see out of it. 

There is much to like about this big-boned curio.

After a few hours in its company, you can imagine traversing continents in a single bound – assuming the hefty fuel bills don’t deter you first.

Creators Charlie Schwendler and Joseph Vos realised their dream of a sporty wagon with the Murena 429GT

Once you have become attuned to its more unruly foibles, the Murena is usable in the real world.

Purists will rail against it having a low-tech V8 rather than a multi-cam V12, but it’s the sort of thing you could fix with a hammer.

It had no obvious rivals in the late 1960s and there’s nothing comparable now. The Murena isn’t perfect, or even close, but it is a hoot to drive.

Time and tide change all, but burning rubber always gets a laugh.

Images: Richard Dredge

Thanks to: Darren Cunningham and Steve Glynn of the Isle of Man Motor Museum

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