Once the 151bhp six-pot Datsun elbowed its way in there was no looking back. The world had moved on

Night driving is an absolute luxury in the UK. Ordinarily, finding a gap in our overcrowded roads actually to enjoy a car is next to impossible, unless you’re prepared to go nocturnal. So when Nissan UK’s bright yellow Datsun 240Z rumbles into Octane’s car park, taking it out for an overnight prowl seems only the right thing to do.

When the 240Z gatecrashed the sports car party  back in 1969, the competition wasn’t exactly known for its dynamics. The kings of the hill were the MGB GT and Triumph GT6. While both were adored in the USA, by 1969 they were also well past their first flush of youth and, although they still looked good, they were saddled with mediocre performance and roadholding. They were great boulevard cruisers should you be fortunate enough to live in Los Angeles, but far from ideal for serious drivers. In the pre-240Z world this was forgiveable but, once the six-pot Datsun elbowed its way in, there was no looking back. The world had moved on; sports car market rebooted.

It seems slightly ironic that over 40 years later, our first task of the night is to go cruising when the car is really begging for a long, hard drive. But searching for photo locations in a deserted city is actually a great introduction to the 240Z.

Even before taking off for the night, the 240Z has done a great job of seducing us. The design, so expertly resolved by  Yoshihiko Matsuo (see page 164), is absolutely perfect. Japanese cars were generally naively styled, combining a degree of Detroit-inspired chintz with barely disguised Euro plagiarism – and rarely did they look at ease with themselves. The 240Z was none of these and, although its proportions hinted at Jaguar E-type, it was self-confident and clean-edged. And brutishly good-looking.

Inside, it’s all sports car, too. The reclined driving position and upright wheel are standard fare, but the dashboard is a world apart from the traditional fare of the typical Brit sports car. The Z’s one-piece dash is beautifully sculpted and the bank of instruments set deeply within it is perfectly plotted. Clearly, it’s been designed with the keen driver in mind and, as with the exterior, there’s not a trace of flab to ruin the lines.

Firing it up doesn’t disappoint; the straight-six doesn’t take much stoking and, after clearing its throat, it settles down to a rock-steady idle. Heading off, it all feels rather politically correct for a sports car, but the controls are very much aimed at young men with bulging biceps. The throttle is long and linear, without a trace of stiction; the gearchange is quite heavy, and deliberate; the clutch is meaty and the steering is far from ideally weighted for the city.

And yet, as we trickle through the deserted streets towards the centre of the city, it’s hard not to be impressed by how easy the 240Z is to drive. Much of its appeal in this situation is aesthetic, too. Fluorescent reflections dance and tease over the bonnet bulge, while shop windows beam back beguiling action sequences. Look across at yourself – yes, you’re sitting almost on top of the rear axle.

In town, that’s a disadvantage when you’re nosing out of side-roads but, once clear of the urban sprawl, it’s an ideal situation for those with backsides tuned to identify the early onset of oversteer. Not that we’re too concerned about such matters as we search for our photo location.

After what feels like several hours of photographic scrutiny it’s finally my turn to examine closely the 240Z. Heading out of the city and for the open road, we still have a few hours before dawn’s early light ushers in the new day, and on a deserted motorway it’s now time to go for it.

Planting the throttle in third at 50mph is a satisfying experience. The 2.4-litre straight-six was designed primarily for the executive-sized Cedric saloon but, rather like the Austin-Healey 3000 or MGC, what should be an unexciting engine delivers a soundtrack that eggs-on the driver. The deep-chested, mid-bass roar from 3000rpm is matched by purposeful acceleration, which still feels quick today. And with 151bhp and just over 1000kg to lug around, so it should be, despite five widely spaced gear ratios.

The legal limit is reached far too quickly. Back when the 240Z was being tested new, road testers more than likely had a nice clear track on which to achieve their performance figures – not a pock-marked, safety camera-equipped M42. So we’ll leave it to Autocar to discuss maximum speeds.

In its 1971 Autotest it stated, using that strangely stilted language journalists adopted back then: ‘In fifth gear we reached a mean maximum of 125mph just over the power peak at 5750rpm. The standing-start acceleration times were good. The clutch was let in smartly at 4000rpm and the car leapt off the line, leaving a few yards of rubber on the road. From here on, progress was rapid, indeed: 60mph was reached in 8.0sec exactly while still in second gear.’

Even before we think about how the 240Z handles and drives on challenging roads, it’s clear that it had the mass-market opposition beaten. Especially in the USA. In comparison, the MGB GT (in Federal tune) had 82bhp, would have struggled to top 100mph and would just about clock 60mph in under 13 seconds. In a market where straight-line pace means so much, the 240Z’s prodigious grunt was a killer blow for its rivals, and a big plus for Datsun.

And that’s why, from the moment it hit the USA in 1970, the original Zed-car was such a hit. From a standing start the Datsun 240Z (there, such a manly car was never going to be called the Fairlady Z, as it was in Japan) managed to sell over 40,000 cars per year Stateside. And since then the Zed-line has totalled over 2,000,000 sales, becoming the most successful sports car franchise of all time. But its build-up was slower in the UK; Datsun had only been importing cars for a year when the 240Z appeared.

Success like this is not accidental: at this point in our test we’re already convinced by the looks, the soundtrack and the performance, but to be a true sports car it also needs to handle properly. Time to get off the motorway and into the countryside. Time to find some bends.

The suspension set-up is conventional by today’s standards – MacPherson struts at the front and trailing arms at the rear. In 1970 this was state-of-the-art for a mass-produced sports car. On the drive out of the city the ride’s knobbly, but the damping is excellent – an ageing restoration it may well be but it’s a real testament to 240 specialist The Z Farm. It still feels as solid and firm as it would have when new.

We’re now barrelling through the countryside on one of England’s famously inconsistent B-roads. The first flecks of daylight are perforating the skyline, but the road is still deserted and the 240Z feels absolutely magnificent. We crack open the window for a blast of cold air and exhaust noise – it’s bracing.

Diving into the first sequence of bends reaffirms what we’d been hoping: the 240Z handles as well as it accelerates. The rack-and-pinion steering is full of feel, and is beautifully realised. Its weight and gearing are spot-on and inspire confidence thanks to smart turn-in and accurate response. If only the wheel was smaller and fatter-rimmed, though. Forget being manageable in town…

We’re pushing a little harder now and the cambered road isn’t even remotely threatening to throw the 240Z off-line. Yes, it’s bone dry, but holding third and keeping the right foot planted in this tightening bend is a sterner test than you might normally imagine. The best way to push a 240Z along is to steer smoothly and feed it into the bends. That said, there is some body-roll to contend with, but the transition into lean is more than adequately controlled, adding to the overall feeling of responsive predictability. That initial turn-in bite translates into a touch of entry understeer, but it is neutral enough not to frustrate keener drivers. Fast exits have the rear end digging in and setting-up for maximum attack on the next straight, thanks to oodles of traction. We like it.

The 240Z has a bit of a reputation for catching out unwary drivers with its exit- and lift-off oversteer. However, as we are driving at sane speeds and with more than a little consideration for the car’s age and value, we don’t get too close to seeing that for ourselves. Besides, sitting pretty much right between the back wheels gives you plenty of warning of an impending slide.

We carry on playing, happily trawling the B-roads as dawn finally breaks. We’re starting to encounter traffic and decide it’s time to head back to the city and an inviting bed. Despite pulling an all-nighter, given the opportunity we could go on for hours. The 240Z really is that much fun. But we’re not sure how commuters are going to take to the bright yellow sports car and its wired driver intent on making serious progress.

As we near the city centre, tower blocks dominate the horizon and we hit jams. Yet even given the change of circumstances the 240Z manages to impress once again. Engine temperatures remain stable and, although we could do with less weight in the steering and pedals, we’re not stressing over whether the car will break down or not. And that underlines another home truth – the Japanese mastered reliable cars at a time when such concepts were alien to the Europeans and Americans.

Message delivered. The Datsun 240Z truly was – and is – the perfect everyman sports car. It’s fast, handles well, sounds and looks fantastic. The secret is already out, and rising values reflect their desirability. And the good news is you don’t need to drive through the night to find out for yourself.