Editor’s Note: This story originally appeared in Volume IV of B.H. Magazine. To get your copy (and access to future issues), subscribe here.
The Concept, by James Want
4.10 AM is a sickening time to be awake, whatever the circumstances, but a month-long toddler sleep regression is infinitely worse than a dawn cab to the airport. In an effort to keep my son entertained, and quiet, during said regression, we binged @rickymack_ videos on IG, which naturally led us down a long and dark hole into the world of snakes. So, when Porsche reached out mid-last year to ask if we wanted to spec a Boss Hunting 911 Carrera GTS Cabriolet press car, with a wide-open brief to “make it Australian”, I knew exactly what to do.
Personally, I like to keep my Porsche aspirations at an achievable level – a 997.2 Targa 4S in Dark Blue Metallic over Sand Beige, with a manual gearbox, is doable, isn’t it? Managing expectations is a critical life skill, and in managing my own, I came to the conclusion some time ago that it was unlikely I’d ever own my dream 911, let alone spec a brand-new 911. If, like me, you’re a Porsche fanatic, I don’t need to go on about how special this opportunity was – free rein of the Porsche configurator, no budget restrictions, and an actual car to show for it.
You won’t be surprised to hear that I spent an inordinate amount of time on the concept – referencing Nutmeg and Cockney browns of the past, comparing colours on Pantone, researching vintage Recaro fabrics and Berger seatbelt colours – all in an attempt to visualise one of the most notorious reptiles in Australia: the Eastern Brown snake. Known for their speed, agility, and highly effective venom, it seemed the perfect fit for not just any 911, but one with a potent, new turbo-hybrid system.
Suffice to say, Porsche enjoyed the concept, and I soon found myself on the configurator, ticking boxes like I was hungover at yum cha. I think the Porsche design team was initially surprised by my restraint, but it soon became clear this was going to be a serious showpiece – one that showcased the extent of the brand’s individualisation options. With more than $30,000 worth of paint and colour options alone – including a $780 key, painted to match the exterior – I think we covered customisation capabilities sufficiently.
Wrapped in Sepiabrown, we opted for a two-tone Basalt Black/Classic Cognac interior, and chose speed strips and thoughtful carbon trim to imitate a snake’s scales. Accents of yellow in the Sport Chrono stopwatch and digital tachometer, as well as the seat belts, blend with the orange-forward cognac in an attempt to convey the creamier yellow belly. Leather-ensconced visors, steering column, and seat backs with decorative inlay, are options you could go without – as is the Sepiabrown-painted 911 logo and slat inlays on the rear lid – but they’re the details that really give this build its personality.
The Delivery, by James Want
Don’t worry, I wouldn’t dare try to claim that revealing Eastern Brown compares in any way to lifting the cover off a car you spent your life dreaming about and working to buy. At least now I have a better idea of what it would feel like, for those who have done it (cool). The big difference with our delivery of Eastern Brown – aside from the obvious one, that we didn’t own it – compared to the regular punter, was the salesman presenting the key. Unbeknownst to me, Mark Webber was waiting in the wings, ready to execute a very special, and surprising, handover.
We spent the afternoon getting very well acquainted with the GTS, and although it was short-lived for me – I reluctantly handed the keys to John for its trip back to Sydney – I got to experience it in depth the following day at Phillip Island. In addition to the new T-Hybrid GTS, which we dragged against the outgoing twin-turbo variant, I also spent time on the skid pan in the new Carrera and lapped the track in the exhilarating, manual-only Carrera T, which is now offered in both coupe and cabriolet in the 992.2. You can read my review right here.
The Drive, by John McMahon
I’ve probably spent more time in the new 992.2 than anyone else in Australia at the time of writing. Driving any type of car from its delivery bay in Melbourne to its new home in Sydney is a feat, but the thought of piloting a stiff and expensive convertible sports car (in torrential Formula 1 Sunday rain, no less) unlocked a different level of anxiety I never thought I had in me.
To my lovely surprise – though it wasn’t that surprising, if I’m being completely honest – the 911 cruised like a treat; the near-instantaneous spin-up of the single, electronic turbo-charger making light work of the Hume’s parade of trucks.
With the roof up, expect some added road noise from the softtop, but roof down, it’s a sublime, full-body sensory experience. Windows raised, seat heaters on, and the optional wind deflector engaged, you could actually spend hours on the open road with the sun on your face and breeze in your hair without it chipping away at your patience. The cabriolet’s engineering has reached the pinnacle of its use case.
I’ve done my fair share of kilometres behind the wheels of various Porsches, but living with one for more than a week is a new perk of the job I’ve well and truly settled into. One thing that has absolutely sold me on the daily drive is the optional lift kit, which raises the clearance of the front axle by 40mm. I’ve yet to meet a driveway or speed bump I can’t surpass with generous ease. It really takes a mental weight off the experience and, in my opinion, is a non-negotiable for owners in this country.
If it weren’t a head-turning brown (alright, the look-at-me cabriolet doesn’t help either), the GTS would just fly under the radar as most 911s do. I’m left with just one question: has the 992.2 unlocked the absolute sweet spot for daily liveability in a sports car?
The Capture, by John McMahon
Where else would you expect to unearth an Eastern Brown? In the dark abyss of a forgotten shed, between hay bales and enough rusty steel to give the entire country tetanus for life, the B.H. GTS found a park under a dusty, old sheet. But my inspiration for this shoot goes beyond the native home of these concealed, coiled creatures.
B.H. loves a barn find as much as the next guy, so we thought about replicating one for the modern era. Put the two scenes together and you’ve got one hell of a mood. We waited for the light to shift – and with it, the Eastern Brown’s metallic paint revealed a different mood at every angle. Set against a backdrop of ‘organised farm chaos’ – rusted petrol barrels, derelict fences, and stray tires – we leaned into the Porsche’s chocolatey tones and menacing front-on stare.
At golden hour, the GTS emerged from the shadows, unsheathed and gleaming in the grass, colour morphing as the first rays of sunlight broke through the trees to dance on its striped skin. But this car isn’t about standing still, it’s about raw speed and agility. En route back to Sydney, we harnessed that motion – the kind that’s near impossible to freeze. Capturing such athleticism in a still image is a monumental challenge, because Eastern Brown strikes before you’ve even had a chance to press the shutter.
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