The One-Liter GT? – Moretti Sportiva

Moretti never had an easy time of it. Giovanni Moretti started to build motorcycles in the 1920s, played with microcars in the early 1930s, shifted to electric-powered trucks during wartime, and when those stopped selling, he turned to completely one-off cars. When this business model became unfeasible, Moretti pleaded his case to his old pals the Agnelli brothers, and did a deal in the late 1950s to make low-volume, rebodied Fiats using his own name.

They agreed; what was a couple of thousand chassis for an established name when you’ve tried Simca, Siata, and built cars in Russia under the Lada name? Even so, you have to wonder how Moretti survived at all. The engines, suspension and chassis were all carryover Fiat stuff–but the bespoke bodywork made a Moretti twice as costly as a comparable Fiat model. For Moretti money, you could get an Alfa Romeo, which was both more plentiful and more powerful; would you pay $75,000 for a rebodied Camry? Whatever rolled out of Moretti’s Torino works would need to be something special indeed.

Hilariously optimistic metric speedometer in a stock 850cc car, but with the Abarth mill and a solo driver, you could get perilously close.

The Sportiva might be that very animal. It launched at the Turin show in 1965, based on recently launched Fiat 850 mechanicals, and might be one of the most deceptive styling jobs ever: There are no giveaways as to how big it might be, or even where the engine might be located. The wheels and their respective openings don’t look outsized, and the greenhouse–often tall and airy on smaller cars, to accommodate actual human beings inside–is completely proportional to the rest of the body. There’s nothing to give away the notion that this Moretti is a scant 41 inches tall at the roof; understanding that the Moretti 850 Sportiva is hiding a Fiat under there doesn’t really make it any easier to take in. It’s got an 80-inch wheelbase and weighs all of 1,500 pounds soaking wet. Recall the Ford GT40, all of its squat, aggressive lines, and the old story about the name coming from its height…then realize that this Moretti is a whole inch higher than the Ford. And you wonder how you’re going to squeeze in there.

Merkel Weiss, owner of this 1967 example and former instructor at Pasadena, California’s, famous Art Center, explains. “It’s astonishing the lengths they went to; the relationship between the greenhouse and body sides, the height of door and wheel size, and how they rationalize to each other properly. In order to make it look like something that’s not a toy, those factors need to all be the same. The smaller the car, the harder it gets to do that, because drivers stay the same size. If the size of the tire gets too small, and the ratio of door-to-window gets too small, the whole thing just looks short.” He points to details like the radical windshield angle and the pillars–“those brilliant Italian pillars the size of matchsticks, thin and wispy, but beautiful, delicate and streamlined.”

Chromed, bullet-shaped mirror smartly placed, and is close enough to the driver’s head that visibility is fine, contradicting its teeny size.

And yet it fits actual human beings inside. Merkel credits Fiat chief engineer Dante Giacosa, “one of my all-time heroes, and very much into efficiency from the Topolino to the 124–so underspoken and quick to give credit to everyone else for what he’s accomplished.” Beyond the inherent efficiency given in any of Giacosa’s designs, Merkel points to the cab-forward windshield placement and seat placement–lower and reclined back a little, taking advantage of the 850 sedan’s wheelbase for the two-place Sportiva–and as a result of this careful engineering, drivers well north of six feet tall will have no issue climbing into the cockpit. That’s not to say you’ll just fall in: You need to lower yourself into the seat, duck your head in first, and swing your legs in. The steering wheel is small enough that you can slide your legs under it easily, plus the door opens wide enough and the sill is low enough for most people to maneuver their way into the seat. Once inside, the broader-shouldered driver will insist on rolling the window down to hang the left arm out. There is, however, headroom to spare, and my knees weren’t so far bent that I couldn’t clear the steering wheel to reach the pedals.

Engine has been switched out for a 1,050cc Abarth unit, but owner’s desire to keep the stock airbox in place requires stock carburetor too.

Visibility is fine, probably because your head feels no more than six inches away from any piece of glass in the car, and adds to the comparatively airy feel of the cabin.

The seats were redone years ago in leather, although it should be a pebble-grain vinyl. “I was at the Quail Lodge show, and up walks someone in a beret, smoking a cigarette with the ash about to fall off. He looked inside and just started saying ‘No, no, no.’ So I asked him, what should it look like? Turns out it was Trinchero, the interior designer for this car. He took me to a place that sold fabrics and restoration materials, and showed me upholstery from an 850 Spider racer–a sort of pebble-grain vinyl.”

The only real compromise in the interior resides in the footwell: the wheel arch takes up nearly half of the spot your legs want to go, orienting the pedals (and by necessity your body) toward the center of the car. It’s not as bad as in some rear-engined machines we’ve driven, however. The good news is that those with a proclivity for heel-and-toeing will have a field day; the bad news is, anyone with Fred Flintstone-width feet (and the shoes that cover them) may not have a choice in the matter.

A couple of pieces may be cribbed from the Fiat parts bin, but the bodywork, dash, glass and even the door panel materials were all bespoke.

The key is next to the steering column, behind the steering wheel, inset about two inches deeper than the trim piece above it; reaching through the spokes of the wheel is probably the easiest way to insert and turn the key. Twist it 180 degrees, and the engine quickly settles into an eager rasp. The shifter is plenty direct, the clutch sufficiently light, and we’re off.

For reasons of comfort, safety and liability, we conduct all of our driving impressions with the owner riding shotgun. However, when the car you’re driving weighs 1,500 pounds, and the crew of two adds another five bills on top of that, you’re asking rather a lot of a one-liter machine. There’s no way something with 33 percent added weight is going to act as it was designed to. Yet, packing a non-stock one-liter Abarth engine, there’s still a lot more gumption than stock. “I figure it’s at around 75-80hp, while the original had 46-48. It’s not double, but it’s pushing it. It has a cam, the exhaust is as long as your arm [which is saying something for a rear-engined car], and I opened up the ports and cleaned the intake tract. The carb is restricted a little; in order to get a stock air cleaner in there to make it look correct, I have an 850 carb on there, so it’s undercarbureted. It’ll go 110+ MPH; my stock 850 Spider never topped 92.” Near-double the horsepower or not, off-the-line performance, as you might expect, was severely blunted by our collective weight, though if you’re buying a one-liter car for its accelerative properties, you need a new strategy.

Once we got moving, though, that little one-liter was singing: The owner encouraged us to rev it clear through 8,000 (the end of the numbers on the tach). I stopped exploring somewhere just south of 7,000 RPM, but really, anything north of five grand, we’ve got enough momentum that the engine doesn’t much seem to care about how many people are in the car, and it accelerates with gleeful abandon. And you’re so close to the ground that even slight gains or losses in speed are deeply felt.

Besides the bigger Abarth powerplant, Merkel also performed a little bit of suspension tweaking. “Once the Miura launched in 1966, it was clear that nothing else sat on its wheels properly. The body sat on the chassis with no regard to where the wheels go…so I lowered the front big time. There’s a leaf spring in front, and the spring is also the lower A-arm; so to lower it you have to move the leaf higher in the body, and I replaced the carrier with a shorter one. Then I had to play with the upper A-arms so they’d still work.”

There are no secrets and little discretion in the Moretti–the chassis and steering will reveal all to you with clarity and immediacy. Unsurprising, since we were compressing the suspension near its limits to begin with. It wasn’t crashy despite ample opportunity at speeds and on roads that would allow for such behavior, though it was absolutely firm and we could picture it getting wearying on longer journeys that true GT cars excel at. The steering wheel, impossible to turn even at low speeds, lightens up nicely as speed progresses, and any action taken through it is direct and urgently responded to–almost a little darty, but easy enough to correct. (We’ll see why later.) More remarkably to us, there was enough ground clearance that we didn’t bump and scrape our way up the driveway.

Still, once out of the car, we notice excess camber at the nose, the front tires bowed out like you’d see on the back of a Bosozoku-style Datsun Z. That’ll be a quarter-ton of humanity in the cabin, then, and it explains the overstimulated steering reflexes. Within a couple of miles of owner-only local driving, the suspension returns to its standard position.

Not many are around anymore; records are scant, but while Moretti built about 2,600 cars in 1967, only a few hundred Sportivas were done over the course of a few years; Merkel believes that fewer than two dozen are still extant. And what low sales didn’t kill, federal regulations did: While a handful made it to the States in 1967, no Moretti 850 could meet bumper requirements for 1968. Moretti limped to the 1980s doing rebodied Unos and Pandas, and finally closed up shop in the early 1980s.

The notion of a one-liter GT car made a certain amount of sense in Europe. “In those days, a two-liter car was a diplomat’s car, and an 1100 was for wealthy families. Topolinos were around-town cars. But in the States, 850cc wasn’t a lot of engine, and the price was pretty near that of a full-size Pontiac. What kind of American would forsake a proper car with electric windows and Wonderbar radio for an 850cc Gran Touring wannabe?” Merkel asks. And as a GT car, which is what Moretti was apparently aiming for, it sadly fails–the controls are far too chatty and it refuses to relax, and won’t let you do so, either. But as a true pocket-sized sports car that demands your input and opinion at every turn of the wheel, it’s bang on the money–a flavor that far too few are able to savor.

Owner’s story

This has been such a good car for me–really, if you just keep it polished and change the fluids, it’ll keep running. It is an 850 after all, and as long as you drive them regularly, you’ll be fine. Poor maintenance and lack of use are the biggest reason cars like this stop working. But after a drive in this one, life is somehow rejuvenated, thanks to a handful of people in love with what they did, who lived the art, and produced this car that could never be produced. It’s out of time and out of place, yet here it is.

-Merkel Weiss

What to Pay

Low: $28,000

Average: $40,000

High: $55,000

Club Scene

Fiat Lancia Unlimited

P.O. Box 563

Coldwater, Michigan 49036

www.flu.org

Dues: $35/year; Membership: 500

Pros

Gorgeously proportioned

Fits actual human beings inside

Sporty performance for a 1.0-liter

Cons

Owners’ meetings get lonely

Stock versions not all that speedy

Good luck finding parts

ENGINE

Type: Inline-four, iron block and cylinder head

Displacement: 1,050cc (64-cu.in.)

Bore x stroke: 67.2 x 70mm

Compression ratio: 10.2:1

Horsepower @ RPM: 70 @ 7,500

Torque @ RPM: 55-lbs.ft. @ 4,000

Main bearings: 5

Fuel system: Weber 30DICA two-barrel carburetor

Ignition system: 12-volt, Magnetti Marelli Plex Hall-effect distributor

Lubrication system: Electric pump

Electrical system: 12-volt

Exhaust system: ANSA header and muffler

TRANSAXLE

Type: Fiat four-speed transaxle with synchromesh and Simca 1000 gears

Final Ratios: 1st 3.636:1

2nd: 2.055:1

3rd: 1.409:1

4th: 0.963:1

Reverse: 3.615:1

Ratio: 4.33:1

STEERING

Type: Worm-and-sector

Ratio: 13:1

Turns, lock-to-lock: 3.6

Turning circle: 36 feet

BRAKES

Type: Hydraulic

Front: 9-inch disc

Rear: 7.5-inch drum

CHASSIS & BODY

Construction: Unit-body, all steel

Body style: Two-passenger, two-door coupe

Layout: Rear engine, rear-wheel drive

SUSPENSION

Front: Transverse leaf spring, upper A-arms, Koni shock absorbers, anti-roll bar

Rear: Semi-trailing arms, coil springs, Koni shock absorbers, anti-roll bar

Wheels: Cromodora CD3

Front/rear: 13×5 inches

Tires: Pirelli P500 steel-belted radial

Front/rear: 175/70R13

WEIGHTS & MEASURES

Wheelbase: 79.8 inches

Overall length: 144 inches

Overall width: 61 inches

Overall height: 41.6 inches

Front track: 45.1 inches

Rear track: 47.7 inches

Shipping weight: 1,600 pounds

CAPACITIES

Crankcase: 4 quarts

Cooling system: 8 quarts

Fuel tank: 7.9 gallons

Transmission: 4.5 pints

CALCULATED DATA

Hp per cc: 0.066

Weight per hp: 22.85 pounds

Weight per cu.in.: 25 pounds

PERFORMANCE*

0-60 MPH: 18 seconds

¼ mile ET: 22 seconds @ N/A MPH

Top speed: 87 MPH

*Source: Manufacturer estimate for stock Fiat 850

PRICE

Base price: N/A