Overview

The Porsche 911 S/T is a special kind of car – part celebration of 60 years of 911 heritage, part raw performance machine.

Resplendent in Shore Blue paint that is oh-so subtly metallic and kitted out with the exquisite heritage design package and a massive 63 emblazoned on its flanks, this $700,000+ car is a garage queen that begs to be driven. Hard.

Underneath the retro-inspired styling is the thoroughly modern mechanical package of a GT3 Touring but with further weight-saving measures including an almost complete absence of sound insulation enabling the machinations of that 4.0-litre naturally aspirated engine to be heard loud and clear all the way to its 9000rpm redline, managed via a stubbier manual gear shifter that feels beautifully mechanical in tandem with the special lightweight flywheel.

Priced at $715,280 (before on-road costs) as tested, this isn’t a car you’ll see every day. It’s rare, it’s fast, and it’s loud – the kind of car that turns heads and makes you feel like you’re part of something special every time you drive it.

You’ve got to be in the mood, mind, but the purist-oriented 911 S/T has a way of getting you into the requisite frame of mind.

Price tag notwithstanding, with just 1963 units built for global consumption we’d better not bend it…

Our Opinion

Right off the bat, the 911 S/T feels like a throwback, but in the best possible way.

Everything about it feels analogue, with a distinct old-school vibe that feels reassuringly authentic until you notice the somewhat cringe ‘icons of cool’ puddle lamp projection of an evening.

Those with the resources to acquire such a car will doubtless find ways to delete or personalise this, ahem, feature.

Our (we wish) car’s two-tone heritage design interior (in black and Classic Cognac) is exquisite in its retro luxury looks, feel and incredible attention to detail. There’s an almost jarring juxtaposition though, between the next-level interior trim treatment and just how raw this thing is to drive.

Around town, the manual transmission feels as sweet as a nut, but through what sounds like a paper-thin firewall I swear you’d be able to hear when its linkages need lubricating.

In fact, the clutch release bearing’s grumble as you operate the left-hand pedal is so confrontingly audible that passengers think it sounds broken. No, my friend, this is how we rolled in 1963.

What they didn’t have back then were the S/T’s carbon-fibre bonnet, front guards, roof skin, doors, air intakes, bucket seats, rear anti-roll bar and rear shear panel.

Shedding further weight are centre-locking magnesium wheels, ceramic composite brakes, thinner glass, lightweight exhaust system and a lithium-ion starter battery.

Unlike those svelte little 911s of yore, in this S/T you’re constantly aware of its size, especially on narrower roads, a sensation amplified by the fact it costs as much as a house and even writing a big cheque at a Porsche dealer could likely never bring back a car that even the most loyal Porsche customer must jump through hoops to be even considered worthy of a purchase (not that any remain unsold).

Even for mere mortals like myself, once out in the open, the 911 S/T starts to dissolve such anxieties. The steering feels precise, and while the car might feel big at lower speeds, the faster you go, the more it shrinks around you.

Behind you is a naturally aspirated engine that just loves to rev. The power comes on strong, and by the time you hit 3000rpm, which doesn’t take long at all, it feels like it’s pulling harder with every gear change.

Despite the 386kW power peak arriving at 8500rpm and all 465Nm not being available until most engines are about to hit the limiter – at 6300rpm – this is a surprisingly tractable unit.

Then again, it is not pulling all that much weight and the numbers remain big throughout the rev range.

Of course, the sound is incredible – it’s loud, raw, and mechanical (did I mention loud?), becoming a dominating and defining (not to mention addictive) part of the experience.

It’s easy to get caught out, though – the 911 S/T is deceptively fast. The mid-range punch is what really stood out for me, especially coming out of corners onto straighter sections of road.

This is the kind of car that feels like it’s urging you to push harder, but it never feels overwhelming or unruly. Even on greasy, poorly maintained country roads, the 911 S/T managed to stay composed, though I could definitely sense the traction and stability control working hard to keep everything in check at times.

During my drive I pondered whether the S/T’s lighter weight (just 1380kg) contributed to this athleticism on trickier roads. It has enough compliance and wheel travel to deal with bumps and rough patches without feeling unsettled.

That said, it is innately firm and there were a few moments where more extremely worn road surfaces upset the balance, particularly on rougher, more uneven sections, where I could feel the car bouncing around a bit.

You do get a unique experience in addition to that reduced weight. The 911 S/T has a specific suspension tune and layout comprising the GT3’s double-wishbone front-end design and a multi-link rear axle but without the rear-wheel steering mechanism (which also saves weight).

Compared to other over-achieving Porsche models, the S/T feels less eager to slide around than the 718 Spyder RS but more manageable on rougher surfaces than a GT3 RS.

It’s much more composed and confident than either on the public road, with telepathic steering that lets you know exactly what’s happening under the car. The ceramic brakes, though, could use a bit more heat before they really bite – something I noticed especially following uphill sections, where I had to give them a bit of a workout to get them performing at their best.

But despite the car’s size and power, it’s surprisingly easy to place. It's big and on narrow, winding roads, you’re definitely aware of that, but it’s so communicative that a second-skin sensation kicks in after a while, and you feel like you know exactly where the car’s edges are.

I never truly got over how the 911 S/T feels so luxurious yet minimalist though. It’s an execution like no other. The heritage design package with its extensive leather details and retro touches is beautiful, and the cabin feels special – there’s a certain level of detail here that sets it apart from other 911s.

You could sit here for hours poring over it – even if the minimal seat adjustment can be a bit polarising – and every opening of the doors truly feels like a special occasion.

But make no mistake, this is still a raw, loud car. The cabin picks up a lot of the noise from the road as well as the engine, transmission and tyres, and while that’s part of the charm, it can be a sensory overload on longer drives.

There’s no back seat, which means you’ve got plenty of space for luggage – as well as the frunk that is missing from a GT3 RS – but it also adds to the stripped-out feel and proximity to that screaming 386kW flat-six following close behind.

You’ve got modern conveniences like cruise control and the Bose surround sound system if you’re trying to drown out the commotion of motion, but the driving experience is front and centre here – despite the sumptuous surroundings it’s not about comfort, it’s about the thrill of the drive.

For the lucky few who get behind the wheel of a 911 S/T, it rewards with an experience that’s both nostalgic and thrilling.

It’s the kind of vehicle that makes you feel like you’re part of something special, and you are – in an exclusive club with just 1962 other members. The fee to join? Only a cool three-quarters of a million Aussie dollars – and the car comes for free.