Long time no see, folks! I went on a bit of a coerced hiatus, lately. But with Japan looming over the horizon (har har) I ended up rediscovering yet again the joy of painting colorful shapes on fast cars. I am in the process of expanding my vinyl group catalogue, preparing older paint schemes for porting in FH6, and who knows, perhaps even creating some new ones…
In the process, and with a Casual Racing Monday appointment acting in the role of the instigating incident, I found the Nissan R88C - a car that’s not only a hoot to drive, but also surprisingly well-mapped. Or, in other words: my kind of car. And what is there to do with an old and nearly-forgotten race car but put some historically credible liveries on it?
Without further ado, I bring you…

The Brototype Cinematic Universe, ep. 1: March Madness
Or: what if the Nissan R88C wasn’t abandoned so quickly?
The late 1980s saw the quiet dissolution of one of endurance racing’s more curious technical partnerships. The collaboration between March Engineering and Nissan, which had produced a succession of turbocharged Group C prototypes, effectively came to an end after the 1988 season. Nissan, increasingly determined to centralise its racing activities under NISMO, chose to move away from March chassis and toward the new Lola-built programme that would yield the R89C.
March, for its part, viewed the break less as a strategic realignment than a missed opportunity. With several Nissan-powered chassis already in circulation and little prospect of further factory work, the Bicester constructor sought to salvage what it could from the remains of the partnership.
Two chassis originally prepared to late R87 specification were returned to March during the winter of 1988–89. These were subsequently upgraded to 1988-spec and informally referred to within the team as the “March 88G-Nissan”, effectively a continuation of the earlier turbocharged concept using the familiar Nissan VRH30T.

The first of these cars found its way across the Atlantic. Hotchkis Racing, which had campaigned the March 83G in the 1985 and 1986 seasons before switching to the ubiquitous Porsche 962, had grown increasingly frustrated with the limitations of running what had become, by 1989, a thoroughly crowded platform.
The March-Nissan offered a potential alternative, and the deal was quietly supported by Nissan’s American racing arm, which at the time was attempting to reduce its reliance on Electramotive and the dated GTP ZX-Turbo, and move its factory activities more directly under NISMO control.
The car debuted at the 24 Hours of Daytona in early 1989. In truth, it proved little more than a curiosity. Over the following four IMSA rounds the Hotchkis entry circulated faithfully at the back of the field, collecting a series of retirements that ranged from overheating to persistent turbocharger maladies.
By the time the championship reached Palm Beach the experiment had run its course. The team quietly returned to the dependable 962, and the March-Nissan disappeared from the American grid almost as quickly as it had arrived.

The second chassis remained with March itself. In an increasingly strained financial climate the company chose to enter the car in selected rounds of the World Sportscar Championship, hoping that a respectable performance might attract partners interested in funding the development of a new prototype.
At least on the surface, March’s WSPC entry appeared far more substantial than the improvised reality behind it. While the title sponsor of the March F1 programme, Leyton House, had prior commitments with the Kremer racing team in the world of sportscars, the programme attracted a respectable group of patrons, chief amongst them that same Computervision whose name had previously appeared on the factory MG Metro 6R4 during its brief tenure in the World Rally Championship. British automotive firms Autoglass and Unipart completed the sponsorship package, lending the entry a suitably domestic flavour.
The driver line-up was equally reassuring: endurance regular Dudley Wood was joined by sports car veteran David Piper, whose name still carried considerable prestige in the paddock. The programme even enjoyed the patronage of the British Racing Drivers’ Club.
On paper, at least, the ingredients seemed promising. On track, as events quickly showed, they proved far less so.
At the Brands Hatch Trophy the Computervision March 88G was circulating in a distant fifteenth position when the engine expired dramatically on the descent into Paddock Hill bend. The official explanation from the March pit was that Wood had misjudged a downshift and briefly over-revved the engine, but not everybody in the paddock were convinced.
The following appointment at the Nürburgring proved scarcely more encouraging: Piper returned to the pits after contact with a slower C2 entry, the March arriving with a crumpled nose and little prospect of repair within the weekend.
The final humiliation came at Donington Park. After a troubled weekend dominated by intermittent electrical faults and a fruitless qualifying session, the car (which, ironically, was sponsored by not one, but two battery manufacturers) failed to take the start due to a flat battery.
March’s brief return to the World Championship ended there, the money and goodwill of its sponsors having run its course.

The story of the Nissan R88C itself followed a different, if no less unkind, trajectory.
For the 1989 24 Hours of Le Mans, Nissan supplied one example of the ageing prototype to the aftermarket giant Autobacs. The programme was widely interpreted as insurance against Nissan’s new Nissan R89C woes, and a way to provide NISMO veterans Auguri Suzuki and Keiji Matsumoto a chance to dispute the most prestigious endurance event in the calendar; they shared driving duties with the promising Ukyo Katayama, who had made his Le Mans debut the previous year with Courage, and would go on to leave his mark in the annals of the event in the following decade.
Qualifying placed the bright orange machine squarely in the midfield. The race itself proved largely uneventful: by the early hours of the night the Autobacs Nissan had steadily climbed to eighth position in a battle of attrition, before turbocharger trouble forced the car to crawl back to the pits and retire from the race.

Yet the R88C’s career did not end there.
In 1990 an ex-works example was passed to the racing outfit of works Nissan driver Masahiro Hasemi, and entered in the All-Japan Sports Prototype Championship. Now painted bright yellow and sponsored by Tomica and Dunlop, the car was entrusted to two rising drivers from the Japanese Formula 3000 ranks: Hideki Okada and Enrico Bertaggia.
Officially a customer entry, the car nevertheless carried unmistakable signs of factory involvement. Some observers suggested that team owner Hasemi, dissatisfied with the unreliability and lack of performance in Nissan’s 1989 Lola-engineered contender, had quietly secured the R88C as insurance should the new Nissan R90C prove equally disappointing. Others believed the programme served primarily as a tyre development platform for Dunlop ahead of Le Mans.
At the opening Fuji rounds the ageing machine were no match for the latest Nissan and Toyota machinery, and struggled to keep pace even the better-prepared 962s. Meanwhile Hasemi’s R90C demonstrated formidable speed and positioned itself as the car to beat for the championship, and early-season speculation faded.
The third round, the 1000 km of Suzuka, briefly revived the story. During the first qualifying session, Okada managed to place the car in an astonishing sixth place, behind all of its Japanese competition, but in front of the field of the midfield Porsches. But it was midway through the race that a heavily offset pit strategy produced the most improbabile moment of the Hasemi R88C’s short career: for five short laps, Bertaggia led the field outright, before a failure of the right-rear tyre entering the infamous Degner corner sent the car hard into the barriers, the impact fatally damaging the chassis.
With Nissan’s interest already waning, Hasemi’s attention focused on the competitive R90C, and both drivers committed to their Formula 3000 campaigns, the #50 quietly disappeared from the championship thereafter.
Like many Group C machines of the era, the last of the R88Cs faded not with a final victory, but with the quiet end of a programme that had simply run out of reasons to continue.
Four liveries, four championships, and four different visual identities for you to choose should you think the red-white-and-blue NISMO paintjobs are a bit too passé.
Filename: #10 Wynn’s (BBS E55 wheels recommended)

Filename: Computervision (Speedline F1 wheels recommended)

Filename: #43 Autobacs

Filename: #50 Tomica

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Also, a quick livery I threw on the RC-F Track Edition back when it was the Spec Series du jour. May be more your tempo if you are not a huge fan of turbo lag!
Filename: #39 G’Zox


