Amphicar!

Perhaps the biggest change we witnessed at Disney since our previous visit in 2012 was the reimaging of Downtown Disney into the more imaginatively-named Disney Springs. It’s true that aside from the facelift, it’s still largely recognizable as Downtown Disney in much the same way Caitlin Jenner is still recognizable as Bruce Jenner. And many people (whether out of ignorance or just plain stubbornness) continued to call it Downtown Disney. This was an obvious sore spot with park employees who took exception to the faux pas and frequently corrected visitors on it.

 

Victoria was scheduled to dance there on Sunday (hence our trip) and while she was getting her hair and makeup done, I had a couple hours to kill in the new Disney Springs. Never let it be said that the House of Mouse has not perfected the art of separating money from guest’s wallets, and Disney Springs is no exception. It was cannily crafted to appeal to all ages, and the appearance of Starbucks coffee shops is but the latest weapon in their finances-draining arsenal. I was immune to the offerings from the Java Giant, but everyone else in our dance company purchased at least one overpriced beverage.

 

I bypassed almost all of the 70 shopping, dining and entertainment traps with impunity. But, it wasn’t until I began strolling over the recently built Village Causeway that I spotted my Kryptonite: A new restaurant called  “The Boat House” and out in front of it was a 1960s-era Amphicar. Like some rare jewel, it was slowly revolving on a giant turntable. Initially, I thought it was just a static display as many of the attractions are in Disney. It wasn’t until I got closer that I realized you could actually ride in it!

 

The Amphicar began it’s doomed existence in 1961 Berlin, Germany ironically built by the same company that made Luger pistols for the Nazis during World War II. Harold Quandt, the owner of BMW, supposedly sunk $5 Million into the project.  Originally, production was slated for 30,000 units but records indicate only a little over ten percent (3,878) actually made it off the assembly line. Off those, roughly 3700 came to the U.S. and were sold through a company called “Amphicar Corporation of America”. The MSRP was $3,300 which placed it in a precarious position: It competed in the same price segment as V-8 muscle cars like the $3,225 Pontiac GTO, but was powered by a lackluster Triumph four-cylinder. Meanwhile, small cars like the MG and Austin Healey with a similar four-cylinder were selling for just $2,600. To value-conscious American buyers, the Amphicar came off as overpriced and underpowered. Even worse, it was speculated that Quandt lost $700 on each one that sold for $3,300. And unfortunately, those were few and far between. By 1964, in a desperate bid to keep the Amphicar afloat, the price was continually discounted to a rock-bottom $2,800. But the death of Quandt that same year, and increasingly stringent EPA regulations are the two items said to be the final nails in the coffin. Today, only 500 “swimming” ones are still in service with about 7 in the U.K. and 80 in Europe.

 

However, the Amphicar is not unlike the DeLorean, another car which was initially plagued with poor sales and public stigma only to experience a cultural resurgence decades later. Putting a fleet of them in action at Disney was the brainchild of Steven Schussler of Minnesota-based Schussler Creative. His other familiar Disney-branded works are Rainforest Cafe, T-Rex Cafe and Yak& Yeti. Schussler stated the nautical-themed restaurant is an idea he pitched to Disney six years ago. He said executives weren’t receptive to the notion of waterfront dining until the big push came from Disney Springs, which is built on the oxymoronic Bay Lake (Is it a Bay? Or is it a Lake?). He adds that The Boat House was one of the most challenging projects he’s ever tackled, citing the necessary use of stainless steel and other materials that are typically foreign to a wooden structure. The goal during development was to build something capable of withstanding Florida’s hurricanes and still last 100 years.  Schussler proudly volunteers that they put down 175 steel beams in the water to support it all. Owing to the name, there’s also 28 “dreamboats” docked there, magnificent examples from the the '30s, '40s and '50s. Finally, he claims that the concept was so successful since opening last April that a second “Boat House” will be unveiled at the new Disney theme park in Shanghai this year.

 

I squeeze past the gawking crowds assembled outside and make my way into The Boat House’s gift shop. There I encounter a pleasant young lady behind the cash register with whom I inquire about purchasing a ride in one of the Amphicars for myself, my wife and my daughter. She politely explains that it costs $135 for a 20-minute tour of the lake. Perhaps expecting me to quickly bolt towards the nearest exit like a spooked feline, she seems astonished when I stick around and ask if reservations are required? It turns out they are not, because apparently so few people actually pay for the Amphicar experience that there’s immediate seating. Herewith, a true modern phenomenon, the first documented case of an attraction at Disney that entails no wait at all. Everyone may laugh at that, but we even witnessed 15-minute standbys for the thirty year-old Captain EO movie at Epcot!

 

It’s about three hours later before Victoria’s dance routine is completed, and we have a celebratory lunch at Earl of Sandwich until we make it back to The Boat House. The ogling crowds have swelled since the morning (as has general park attendance) and after paying, we’re instructed to sign release waivers. Apparently, these are so Disney cannot be held responsible if something catastrophic happens such as our Amphicar unexpectedly becomes a submarine, or we get attacked by a Great White shark like in Jaws 3-D. Even more troubling, Victoria is the only one who gets a life preserver, leading me to wonder what happens to her if Amanda and I both perish? That notwithstanding, I reassure my wife that hitting an iceberg should be the least of our concerns.

 

As we’re waiting for an Amphicar to return, I’m hedging my bets as to which one will be ours. All four are currently transporting passengers around the lake, and I’m ardently hoping we’ll get the Regatta Red one. All have white convertible tops, but the other colors circling around are Lagoon Blue, Beach Sand White and Fjord Green. While those were the standard colors, a few Emerald Green ones where constructed for the Berlin Police, as well as a black one. Additionally, fifty custom ivory Amphicars with red tops and side trim were designed for promotional use at Cypress Gardens and the 1964 World’s Fair.

 

Suddenly, a middle-aged woman reeking of liquor rudely shoves her way past Amanda, Victoria and myself. As she’s right in front of me, I can’t help but overhear her conversation with the attendant. Apparently, she believes we are all lined up for a free ride in an Amphicar and wants the details on it. Even the employee finds this amusing and hastily informs her of the cost. Feigning shock at the price, she asks if there’s a discount available? Without missing a beat, he exclaims “Sure, it’s 50% off at twice the price.” It takes her alcohol-addled brain a few seconds to process this and then she angrily storms off.

 

Finally, we see our Amphicar approaching and unfortunately it’s our least desirable pick-- the Fjord Green one. I know manufacturers typically take poetic license with their products to make them seem more attractive and desirable by using exotic names, but I honestly believe “Fjord Green” is the single worst description for an automotive color I’ve ever heard.  It ranks up there with all the pizzazz of “Burnt Sienna”, which sounds like a Toyota minivan owned by an arsonist. Also, fanciful hues should be universal enough that you don’t have to Google them to learn what they are. In case you were wondering (as I was), a fjord is a “long, narrow, deep inlet of the sea between high cliffs, as in Norway and Iceland, typically formed by submergence of a glaciated valley.” However, I keep this information more secret than Hillary Clinton’s Benghazi e-mails since I don’t want Victoria remembering the term was used in the Disney brainwashing-blockbuster Frozen. Like the Zika virus, all it takes is one to start singing “Let it Go” and it organically spreads to every child in earshot.    

 

Fortunately, I didn’t have too long to dwell on this as our Amphicar begins pulling into the boat slip. It’s shooting a “water flag” stream behind it, like you see on jet-skis, and Victoria is concerned it has sprung a major leak. As it pulls up beside us, water splashes out of the sides and fender wells, and seaweed is hanging from the undercarriage. It looks remarkably like a submerged vehicle that had just been pulled to safety, only there’s not a swarm of news media and personal-injury lawyers present. 

 

Pictures don’t really do it justice, as the Amphicar is much bigger in person. It clocks in at just over 14 feet long with the highest rear fins of any production car, standing roughly 1 inch higher than those on a 1959 Cadillac. The tall tires kind of give it an off-road 4x4 stance, and it’s not an optical illusion. With 10-inches of ground clearance and a completely flat bottom for optimum hydrodynamics, it maneuvers in snow better than most trucks. And despite a light weight of just 2000 lbs, there’s no fiberglass in the Amphicar as you’d find in a watercraft. The entire construction is reinforced steel with lead fillings to make it completely waterproof. As such, I think there might be more lead in Bay Lake than Flint, Michigan.

 

A huge crowd has assembled and is enviously watching us get in. A small boy standing nearby asks our Amphicar captain if he really plans to drive it into the water? Our captain replies that you can drive any car into the lake, but the real magic is having a car that can drive back out! Indeed, I’m sure Ted Kennedy wished he had one at Chappaquiddick. The same goes for Andy House who famously drove his $1 million Bugatti Veyron into the Texas marsh. He could have saved a fortune and avoided going to prison if he’d only bought an Amphicar!

 

Dark clouds gather on the horizon and I’m hoping we don’t get rained out. I inquire about a rain-check policy, but our captain assures me that they carry ponchos and umbrellas for just such occasions.

At last, we are buckled up and ready to go, only this is distinctly unlike any ride we’ve taken in a car before. Approximately fifty feet in front of us, our driveway suddenly disappears into Bay Lake's brackish waters.

Then we’re off and approaching the watery depths at roughly 25 mph. I suppose it’s a natural reaction when confronted with such a sight to instinctively attempt to brake or swerve, but I’m eerily calm.

Granted, I’ve had my fair share of car wrecks but thankfully they’ve all been on land. And at least this time I can’t be held responsible for a vehicle ending up in a lake. The splashdown is surprisingly gentle, and we don’t get a single drop of water on us, nor does it require using the windshield wipers. My immediate sensation is to expect water to start gushing in and filling the foot wells, but miraculously we don’t sink! If anything the Amphicar forges ahead through the water as easily as it did on pavement. Maybe they should consider changing the name to “Forge Green” which is certainly less confusing. Heck, it looks turquoise to me anyway!

Naturally, my first question is how fast does it go in the water? Our captain explains that all the Amphicars were known as “Model 770” which stands for 7 knots (about 8 mph) in the water and 70 miles per hour on land. He elaborates that it’s powered by a 1.1-liter four-cylinder that makes 43 hp. This power is channeled through a special Porsche 356-derived transmission that runs both the rear-wheels as well as the propellers. The fuel system is also borrowed from the 356, while much of the braking system and suspension is Mercedes.

“All this and 35 mpg on the highway!” our captain brags, stating that it uses just 1-2 gallons of regular unleaded per hour in the water. Upon seeing some tourists gazing off the pier at us, he yells “Is this the way to I-75?” They laugh and raise their drinks in a salute.

Suddenly, we begin to feel a few sprinkles and the rain I had hoped would abstain has decided to dampen our spirits. However, our captain doesn’t seem fazed in the least by it, even when it begins coming down harder and harder. He volunteers that it doesn’t bother him and that he actually prefers it. “It was 110 degrees this summer” he recalls shaking his head, then adding “at least I got a nice tan!” He continues philosophically, “That’s what’s nice about the weather in Florida. If you don’t like it, just wait until the next day and it’s completely different.” Our captain is certainly correct. Thanks to the Sunshine State’s schizophrenic climate, the mercury swings from a sweltering high of 90 during the day to a shivering low of 50 at night. This also explains why in some pictures we look like we’re dressed for an arctic exploration and in others a day at the beach.

Despite their appearance, I learn that these Amphicars are much tougher than they seem. In 1968, two Amphicars traveled 350 miles down the rough waters of the Yukon in Alaska. Another pair successfully crossed the English Channel during gale-force winds and twenty-foot seas. With the top up and windows raised, it’s a shockingly seaworthy vessel. It’s also had a list of celebrity customers nearly as eclectic as it is: Country singer Alan Jackson, actor Dan Ackroyd, director George Lucas, performer Madonna and ex-Presidents Lyndon Johnson and Jimmy Carter. Johnson was perhaps the most notorious owner with his penchant for playing pranks on unsuspecting visitors. He would reportedly give people a tour of his ranch in it before abruptly steering into his pond at full speed screaming “The brakes are out!”

Understandably, it was also a great investment if you’d have had the foresight to buy one. Over the past decade, 54 have changed hands at various auctions all over the world. With a high price of $123,000 in 2011 at Barrett-Jackson in Scottsdale and a 2009 low price of $27,500 in Ft. Lauderdale at Auctions America. Maintenance parts can be pricey, but are thankfully plentiful. Several user groups have also sprung up around the country which afford owners, and potential owners, the ability to socialize as well as sell and buy parts. 

Seemingly too soon, our pleasure cruise is over and we pull back into The Boat House. We are soaked, not from the water but from the rain, and Amanda declares it the “Best Worst Time We’ve Ever Had!” Although I wouldn’t want to own an Amphicar, I’m certainly glad I had the opportunity to ride in one. It’s a unique experience I’d recommend to every auto enthusiast at least once in their life.