The Aston Martin Vanquish heralded a new era for the British sportscar maker. A new century was dawning and Aston had been in the realm of the big Ford Empire for more than decade. It was in need of something new. It had the old, hand-made Virage, and had been pumping out the DB7 for a few years. This looked the part but with its XJS-based platform (Jaguar being another under the Blue Oval’s influence at the time), the “Jag in Drag” was tired. In 1998, Aston rolled out the Project Vantage concept car. The styling gave it real presence and it was bristling with new tech, including an aluminium chassis, a fresh 5.9-litre V12 engine (developed by Ford’s Advanced Powertrain division) and a flappy paddle gearbox. The public liked it, and crucially the Ford boss did too. It was greenlit for production and the Vanquish rolled out in 2001 as the new Aston flagship, a super GT to lock horns with the 550 Maranello.
The numbers were quite something for the day, the V12 outputting 343kW and 542Nm, enough for a sub-five second 0-100 run and top speed of 300km/h. Twenty years on however, the numbers look a little anaemic. The latest Vanquish still uses a V12 engine but with twin turbos it’s making 614kW and just over 1000Nm of torque. But that’s progress.
Vanquish set the scene for Aston in the first decade of the new millennium. Its styling, the lines penned by Ian Callum, would influence the DB9 and V8 Vantage, while the Vanquish’s aluminium chassis would lead to the development of the VH platform. That’s Vertical Horizontal; vertical meant it could be scaled to size and horizontal meant it would be used across all models in the range. The development of the bonded and riveted alloy chassis was more to do with production friendliness than radically changing its design. The Vanquish also marked the end of an era as the last Aston Martin to be made at the Newport Pagnell facility. It had been home to the Brit since the late forties when tractor maker, David Brown, took over the firm.
Vanquish was superseded by an S variant in 2004 featuring a more powerful V12 engine with 388kW. It also gained subtle styling changes, mainly comprising more prominent front and rear spoilers. It also picked up better brakes and suspension, and there were updates made to the transmission.
This is a relatively rare machine with just over 2500 Vanquish models made over both versions. Surprisingly, there are some 19 residing in NZ according to the numbers on CarJam. This one is for sale at North Shore Motors with relatively low mileage having covered just over 50,000km with three owners. The current custodian is selling it as a result of ill health, no longer able to drive after an accident, a genuine reason for selling if ever there was one. It’s listed as POA on the website, if you’re wondering.
Being a Grand Tourer at heart, it’s easy enough to get into. The seats are surprisingly comfy, being rather broad with restrained bolstering, and aren’t set too low. Its small steering wheel looks and feels good, unhindered by buttons save those for the horn. The alloy shift paddles are in behind, attached to the column but are a tad small. There’s a mix of philosophies at play inside. You’ll find plenty of leather and suede linings mixed with plastics and switchgear from the Ford empire, mainly Jaguar bits. So at least it’s all British then. Aston’s solid alloy door pulls and console grab handles are classy, the parts bin radio (complete with tape deck) and ventilation buttons not so much. Aston Martin was not renowned for its build quality during this time but this one’s not too bad; a few squeaks about but the cabin is holding up okay. The Vanquish could be had with either a two-seat layout (2+0) or a 2+2 like this one. But, as ever, those in the rear are all but useless. That’s because the Vanquish is a relatively small car, in length at least, with a short wheelbase.
Slotting the key (which doesn’t look too dissimilar to that of an AU Falcon) in the barrel to crank the V12 into life doesn’t achieve much. It’s the first step in a slightly elaborate start-up sequence; you then have to pull on the paddles, wait for the gearbox to sort itself, then prod the start button. The starter sounds suitably exotic, whirring rather than cranking as it wakes the beast. Pull on the right paddle to select first, remember to yank on the fly off handbrake and give it some gas. At the turn of the century, automatic transmissions were still of the slow and slurry kind, not something fit for a super GT (Aston was selling its six-cylinder DB7 with a GM-sourced four-speed auto at the time). So the Vanquish was fitted with an automated manual transmission, dubbed the ASM – auto shift manual. This saw the Getrag six-speed manual fitted with a Magneti-Marelli-supplied, electrohydraulically-actuated paddle-shifter system, which took care of the clutch. It’s best to treat the transmission for what it is, a manual rather than an auto. It will change gears automatically, though the swaps are jerky; the electronics of the time simply couldn’t manage coordinating a dip of the throttle at the same time to smooth the change out. And left in auto mode, the changes are fairly unpredictable, and laboured. It’s simply better to drive it as a clutchless manual, lifting the throttle briefly as you flap the paddle to avoid your head rocking forward.
These robo-manuals always seem clumsy, yet their performance is on a par with a stick shift manual. The box is slick on the downshifts with the perfect amount of blip. Going up, they seem a tad laboured, even in the Sport mode. But they are as quick as you would be yourself executing the perfect rapid upshift on the stick, and yet this never misses a gate or graunches the cogs. Aston’s next flagship, the DBS, had a proper manual (and the option of a six-speed ZF auto) though they did persist with the two-pedal manual in the Vantage.
In a super GT like the Vanquish, the flappy paddles make it easier to work over the V12. Not that it lacks for pull. There’s plenty in the basement for easy cruising, but it works best from 4000rpm, which is where it starts sounding proper too. You could call it a bit flat as it winds on through the twos and threes but it finds its wondrous 12-cylinder vocals as it passes ‘4’ on the tacho, and rotates freely towards ‘7’ as the Vanquish hauls on. Its turn of speed is still satisfactory, but not nearly as rabid as today’s turbo-fed monsters.
The double wishbone type suspension at each corner gets no help from any fancy adaptive shockers. And yet it still rides rather well, tyres with a bit of a sidewall probably helping there. As such, the control of the lean isn’t quite as strict. Still it holds its nerve in the bends, no electronic trickery needed as it feels nicely weighted between each axle. A pity there is a lot of it however; it’s genuine British beef this one. And that mass is particularly noticeable when you’re on the brakes. These need a good heave, though it manages to maintain its poise here too. The only electronic aid is the traction control, the light on the dash flickering away quite often. The rear lays on decent traction, and judicious use of the throttle does help it all rotate nicely. However, it’s easy to overdo it too, the T/C on quickly and abruptly cutting the power. The hydraulically assisted steering is nicely weighted with a good feel for the action, though it does transmit all the lumps and bumps.
Perhaps the best aspect of the Vanquish is its presence. It’s understated so doesn’t cause a scene yet it will be appreciated by enthusiasts. It still looks pretty sensational twenty years on; well proportioned but more muscular than the DB9 with a wider stance and those shapely haunches. It’s still a bit special then.
