THIS Is How You Review A Porsche: National Post Experiences Panamera Engine Fire, Recommends Panamera Purchase

Sorry for that crappy music. I didn’t put the music in there — JB

Once more in the Panamera breach, dear friends;

We (meaning I) have been awfully tough on Porsche’s Panamera this week, what with the Frank Greve article on corruption in the autojourno game and my own confessional regarding my Panamera experience.

To balance out the karma of the Porsche universe, I’ve found an article, published today, where the auto review for Canada’s National Post experiences a blown turbocharger in a Panamera Turbo S.

What happened, it was found out later, was that the right turbocharger (the Panamera has two) let go, pouring oil into the exhaust system. Unfortunately, the exhaust side of a turbocharger routinely reaches temperatures of 900C. Since oil burns at 500C, we had our impromptu car-b-cue. Covered in a fine patina of bromine (the fire retardant in portable extinguishers), clad in scorched bumper and dripping hot oil out its tailpipes, the Turbo S was a sorry sight and had to be medivac’d back to Toronto.

What the [s]shill[/s] [s]toady[/s] [s]unbelievably corrupt pawn of people who consider him to be basically a robot who can be programmed to spew crap for a lower-middle-class wage[/s] journalist, David Booth, writes next may shock you, but it will almost certainly make you laugh.

The full review can be found here. Check it out if you like, but we will cover the relevant bits in the close reading which follows.

The article begins in medias res, as corner workers at the Shannonville race course run towards Booth’s Panamera.

the quad pipes belched a six-foot plume of flame as if the Panamera were trying to storm the Imperial Army on Iwo Jima. I’m pretty sure that wasn’t in the brochure.

What, you mean the part where the Germans helped take Iwo Jima? No, David, that part wasn’t in the brochure. David then goes on to discuss the likely cause of the fire, as detailed above: turbocharger blows up, oil goes into exhaust, massively hyperbolic, death-defying description of minor engine-area fire. Well, since this [s]piece of shit[/s] $190,000 sports-car-cum-sedan blew up on a relatively tame track (Shannonville, while nice, is more of a large parking-lot autocross than, say, an inch-perfect recreation of Spa-Francorchamps), Booth then goes on to utterly eviscerate Porsche for building cars that can’t handle simple track work.

Right?

That’s what he does, right?

“So what’s the lesson in this, Dave?” you’re asking. “Don’t buy a Porsche Panamera Turbo S, right?’

Well, not quite. In fact, quite possibly the opposite. You see, though it was the wonky bearing that caused the turbocharger to go kaput (a German technical term related to rapid dispersion of lubricant), I may have contributed at least a little to its demise as my enthusiastic flailing along Shannonville’s long straight was not exactly the ideal way to break in a virtually brand new engine.

No, dumbass. Turbochargers don’t need to break in.

More tellingly, the Panamera’s big 4.8-litre V8 was completely unharmed by the conflagration, despite losing oil for more than half of Shannonville’s 4.03 kilometres with Yours Truly’s foot planted firmly to the metal. (Remember the dullard assertion – I had failed to notice those great plumes of smoke wafting behind me for almost an entire lap.)

That admission, right there, should make sure Mr. Booth never sets foot on a track again in his life. He wasn’t just being a “dullard” — he was risking the lives of others. Chances are that he ignored several flags along the way — that’s typical of journalists. I sat and watched Automotive Traveler’s Richard Truesdell ignore five black flags in a row a few months ago at a trackday event. If another driver had hit Booth’s oil, he could have been killed. It happens, and it happens because of people like Booth.

Okay, enough sanctimony, back to the unintentional humor.

The reason was simple. Porsche designs all its engines for the worst-case scenarios of racing.

One more time:

The reason was simple. Porsche designs all its engines for the worst-case scenarios of racing.

I’m sorry. Once more.

The reason was simple. Porsche designs all its engines for the worst-case scenarios of racing.