Pity the poor Barracuda. It beat the Mustang to market in 1964 by 16 days, but was utterly trounced by that seminal (and genre name-giving) pony car. In their first full year (1965), the Mustang outsold the ‘Cuda by nine to one. Well, despite that huge glassy fastback, it was hard to fool anyone that the Barracuda was anything other than a Valiant Signet with a fishbowl grafted on. Especially from the inside out.
That hardly made it an inferior car per se, and the fold down rear seat and resulting flat floor made it highly practical for certain uses. But the distinctive long-hood short-deck proportions of the Mustang instantly became iconic and a must-have; a glass-back Valiant just wasn’t going to do the trick, unless of course you found yourself in the right position to fully appreciate the Barracuda’s unique qualities.
The idea for what became the Barracuda had been tossed around in various forms at Chrysler for years. But when word of the Mustang’s development was out, a project to compete was put into overdrive. And contrary to what might be assumed, the rear glass idea didn’t originate with the 1963 Corvette, but with some styling concepts for a proposed Super Sports Fury Coupe for the still-born 1962 models, that were never built due to the disastrous last-minute downsizing. I can’t find a picture of the fastback clays, but one can see a hint of the the direction even in the production 1960 Valiant rear window.
The Barracuda’s rear window was the biggest piece of automotive glass (14.4 sq.ft.) produced to date. Combined with the fold down seat and the opening hatch into the “trunk”, a seven foot long cargo area was available. And since the Barracuda had the same upright seating dimensions as the Valiant, it was a (semi) legitimate five seater; certainly much more so than the Mustang.That led to the Barracuda being marketed as much for its practical purposes as its sporty pretensions.
To start with, its sporty aspirations were fairly modest: a choice of slant sixes or the new 273 cubic inch LA V8 that put out 180 hp. That already was less than the Mustang’s 200 hp 289 base V8, never mind the 225 and 271 hp versions. For 1965, that was partly rectified with the Formula S package that included a 235 hp four-barrel version of the 273, along with suspension and steering ratio upgrades. A substantial improvement, and the ultimate A body setup for that generation, but still not exactly what it would take to get someone’s eyes off a Mustang GT.
The 1966 Barracuda had a new squared-off front end, which was mostly shared with the Valiant again. Other than that, there wasn’t too much new, except that sales slumped even further: now the ‘Stang outsold the ‘Cuda 16 to 1! A new Barracuda arrived in 1967, still sharing the new-for ’67 Valiant architecture and high cowl, but with at least its own unique sheet metal. It also came in two distinct hardtop styles, a (less glassy) but handsome fastback, and a rather unusual coupe with a roof line that evoked more than a bit of a gen1 Corvair coupe.
The ’67 Barracuda, in Formula S form, finally came into its own as a renowned performance machine thanks to its handling, now considered the best of the pony cars. That is, if one could put up with the little 273, and resist the optional and heavy 383 that was being shoehorned in as an option. The fit was so tight, power steering wasn’t even available. Big blocks in pony cars were great for the strip, but the heavy metal on their compact front ends created inevitable results in handling.
In 1968, that was resolved in a most satisfactory manner: the superb new 340 LA V8, which was no heavier than the 273. With its excellent breathing, it was underrated at an insurance -friendly 275 hp. The 1968 -1969 340 Barracuda S was the most balanced all-round performing car in its class. Of course, a cheaper Dart Swinger 340 was essentially the same thing.
Well, that’s all in the future, As this ’65 makes very clear indeed, it really was just a Valiant with a glass back. There’s nothing in this front passenger compartment to let anyone know that’s its anything other than that, except a “Barracuda” emblem on the inside of the front door. And no, folks weren’t buying it…
The spacious rear compartment made for lots of creative possibilities. One of them was to put a blown hemi under it, creating one of the seminal wheelie-mobiles, the aptly named Hemi Under Glass (“A Rolling Research Laboratory”). Well, I never got to experience that stand-up creation, but I do have a very vivid and sweet Barracuda memory. And it has nothing to do with its handling or performance prowess. In fact, it probably wouldn’t have ever happened in a Mustang or Camaro, thanks to the Barracuda’s rugged and practical Valiant origins and that seven foot cargo area.
Feel free to jump a couple of paragraphs ahead ahead if you’re sick of my hitch-hiking stories. It was 1972, I was nineteen, and returning to Iowa after a several months-long thumbing trip up the West Coast. I got picked up in Cheyenne by three college kids in a red ’65 Barracuda late in the day, and they offered to put me up. I hit it off with the sweet young driver of the plain hand-me-down slant six automatic ‘Cuda, anything but a sporty car, and spent a few days with them. She suggested a camping trip (for the two of us) into the rugged high country.
She had a dog, a brown medium sized mutt of particularly calm demeanor. I soon found out why: it demanded to be “run” for miles on end, following the Barracuda down the rugged gravel and dirt roads. I vividly remember looking back through that window, seeing it running along behind for miles on end, while we bounced along the rocky rough roads. The purring slant six instilled the highest degree of confidence as we headed up into the rugged hills. And the tough suspension was up to anything Wyoming could dish out, even way back in Marlboro Country. This was no place for a Mustang, despite being horse country.
It was already well into May, but the weather was getting colder and cloudier by the mile. We didn’t see another car all day. By by the time we got to our destination, it was drizzling and close to freezing. I have a vague memory of heating something in a can over a fire (Chef Boyardee, most likely).
We quickly cleared out that seven foot long cargo area and kept each other warm back there, as well as watching the rain turn into snow as the flakes swirled down and collected on that big glass pane. Wyoming in May!
And by the next morning, that window was solid white, under a couple of inches of fresh snowfall. Love under glass beats hemi under glass any day in my book, especially in that setting.
Back to the present: this ’65 Barracuda is typical of so many CCs I find and talk to the owners about. It’s a family hand-me down, from his uncle, if I remember right. And it’s been a regular driver much of its life. Exactly like the one in Wyoming, with the 225 cubic inch (3.7 L) slant six, except with a three-on-the-tree manual. Perfect car for the long haul, and impromptu camping trips.
The Barracuda may not have been a sales success, but I’m thankful Chrysler decided to make it nevertheless. The back seat of a Mustang would have been a bitch on that long, cold night in the mountains of Wyoming.
I’m amazed at the interior shots. I’d forgotten how many exposed metal surfaces there were in older cars. We’ve all become used to the plastic cocoons of today’s cars.
Spent many nights in the back at the drive-in whith my sweetie…… sold it in 1974 What a dumb ass i was !
Well, well, well…it was in one of these that I had my first “hot rod” car ride!
When I was 14, a couple of friends and I were out walking around one evening, going up to one of the guy’s houses to hang out for a time. An older school acquaintance saw us, pulled over and said “hop in”! Of course we did. I sat in back. The car was a brand-new 1965 Barracuda, blue, with a 273 and four-on-the-floor, shifted by courtesy of Hurst. Well, even tho’ I can’t remember the driver’s name – I really didn’t know him too well – one of my friends did – he laid into that 273 and we took off like a shot up the street! It was a thrilling ride – my first – and certainly not my last – in a “hot” car! Boy, was it fun! Eventually we were let off at the friend’s house about 15 minutes later, all fired-up with excitement and sufficient subject matter to keep us occupied until I had to go home – and for a long time afterwards!
As far as all the exposed metal in cars back then – true! Add to that no A/C for the most part, you had to keep a small towel in the car in order to lay on the window sill so as not to burn the underside of your arm when resting it on the sill. Ditto for fully-upholstered cars, because they all seemed to have a little chrome strip of metal at the very top edge – that got pretty hot, too! Your buddies were on their own!
I have always liked these first-gen Barracudas – I have a soft spot for Plymouth, anyway – many of you already know that. I liked the second-gen ‘Cudas even better – the coupe, especially, over the fastback style. Yeah, they were only a Valiant underneath, but style over substance! These cars at least had the style – and the largest piece of glass ever used in a car, I believe. that’s something to crow about, isn’t it?
Great car, great write-up!
I was always amazed that someone hadn’t used the name “Barracuda” sooner. (Although I’m glad that our pony cars weren’t fish cars.)
“Love Under Glass” sounds like the tentative title for a Woody Allen movie.
Well, this sure beats my drive-in experiences. All of which go back to when I had cars without a middle stack. There is something to be said for the good old front bench seat…
Nice find!
And the see-saw saga of Chrysler begins in that era.
I have to wonder…was it a lack of resources, which led to such a lo-buck aping of the Mustang…or a lack of inspiration? It seems MoPar had a shortage of both. Reeling from its brush with death right about the same time, and saved by the mild-mannered, imagination-free cadre of bookkeepers led by Lynn Townsend…Chrysler seemed to have all the ills affecting Studebaker after a similar run of hubris.
Fortunately for Chrysler and Lynn Townsend’s press agent…Chrysler had one thing going that Studebaker did not. A large, functioning dealer network…which enabled Townsend’s strychnine-as-medicine therapy, the Sales Bank, to enable things to function seemingly normal for a while.
Into the mix of this comes the ponycar craze. The Mustang broke no new engineering ground; it was the ultimate style-over-substance product…marketing vaporware. But the thinking behind it was revolutionary. A new market (kids); a new way to sell the same old product. Targeted advertising; narrowcasting.
And the lack of understanding in the other shops, showed in what they responded with.
The initial Camaro, as Paul discussed, was a lame attempt to follow the strategy. A new body on an old chassis…but the body didn’t break ground; the chassis was lacking, the result was chaos. And the Marlin…Dick Teague’s concept looked good, if not inspirational; but it got lost in communicating it to the boardroom. Meddling by the suits guaranteed failure.
And the Barracuda A handsome car; but obviously the same Valiant your grandmother drove. As a before-its-time Duster, it’s not bad. But give a 17-year-old with money or an obliging parent, a choice between a Valiant with a modded greenhouse…as Detroit always did with their full-size lines…or a MUSTANG!!!…he’ll pick the gussied-up Falcon, every time.
Temper, temper! How many coupes today have rear windows that roll down and no B pillar? That’s worth it to me!
Sorry – I left that out of my post!
One of Lynn Townsend’s mantras was that Chrysler would not be an industry leader on his watch. In his view, the company’s attempts to lead the industry in the 50s and early 60s had been a disaster, and he saw no reason to place those kinds of bets. Instead, he would make the safer wager, which was to let others do the prospecting, and then step in if there turned out to be some gold. With every new trend that came along under his leadership, Chrysler was always late to the party or done on the cheap or both.
I’d just gotten a good job and we were looking for a car in the summer of 1965. We looked at Mustangs, Chevelles, and Barracudas. I wasn’t all that impressed with the Mustang, seeing it as an overpriced Falcon; but I’d seen enough Valiants and Darts around to think that the Barracuda’s obvious Valiant ancestry wasn’t a problem. We ended up with a black on gold Barracuda with the 2-barrel 273, 4-speed, positraction, and a radio. I’d been hearing and reading a lot about radial tires, so it wasn’t long before our car became probably the first Mopar car in our area to be running Michelin tires. They were kind of funny-looking, really dark brown instead of black, and whined like crazy at speed, but I liked the way they contributed to the car’s handling.
We camped in it a couple of nights on the way from Tacoma to southern California the next summer, and discovered that it’s not all that handy to be sleeping in the place where all your gear and luggage are piled. It was a cool experience to wake up under that big window though.
We started to have problems with rear end noise, with repeated trips to the dealer. Each “fix” only lasted a month or so, and finally we met at the dealership with a zone representative. He insisted that the tires be swapped for some that didn’t whine so he could better hear the noise; it wasn’t difficult for the dealership to come up with a set, and he agreed that the differential was noisy and needed to be replaced. Sure enough, it was quieter when we got it back, but by that time we had gotten tired of the hassle, the car had nearly 50,000 miles on it, and we didn’t want to keep it after the warranty ended, so we traded it on a new red 1967 VW Beetle. Yes, I was quite impatient in those days…and still accused of that.
A year or so later I saw the car and talked to the owner. He swore that the 23,000 miles it showed when he bought it (from another dealer than the one we’d traded it to) was original, and said that they’d told him they’d had to replace a blown engine, but he hadn’t had any problems with rear end noise.
I had other first-generation A-body cars later, but that was the only Barracuda. I did run across a 1965 six-cylinder white on blue 4-speed Barracuda – this was probably in the 1990′s – and lined up a fellow Mopar freak to buy it. Afaik he still has it.
I guess after all these years I can confess..In 1970 I worked at a large used car lot. My job was clean up. Today they call it detailing.
A 65 blue Barracuda got traded in. Filthy inside, and out, and lots of miles on the clock. A salesman comes to me late in the day, waving a 10 dollar bill. Get that car spotless before you go home kid, and the 10 is yours.
I put my head down and vacumed,hosed,scrubbed,and took SOS pads to the white walls. One of the guys that worked in the shop showed up. The guy was bombed, and reeking of Rye.
“Ya ever wanted to know how to turn back an odometer kid”..says the dude. I nod…..”tonight you gonn’a learn”
With his tools and and guidance,and my sober hands, we had that speed head out, disasembled,and the odo reading 25K ,and re and re about an hour.
I couldn’t believe how easy it was. All you needed was steady hands.
The Barracuda was my first. but it sure wasn’t my last.
Guys…..
Love this original ‘Cuda…. I’d gladly take one of these over the the bloated current or early 70′s version. That picture of the ‘Hemi under the Glass’ sent me scurrying to another ‘go to website’ – check it out.
http://theselvedgeyard.wordpress.com/2010/08/12/well-drop-a-hemi-in-the-rear-and-run-like-hell-hemi-under-glass/
There’s plenty of other topics that ‘ll interest the connoisseur of vintage automobiles and bikes. cheers!
Add me to the column of the folks who like the original Barracuda. My wife’s family legend has it that her grandfather traded in his 1958 Corvette on an original Slant Six/three speed mans trans Barracuda after he remarried! Talk about a paradigm shift…
I have a similar story to Zackman’s, a friend who was three years older than me finally got his driver’s license. He had been saving up money for several years previous to this, and he bought a 1966 Barracuda with a 273 and four speed. He picked me up walking home from school and took me for a ride. He displayed the car’s absolute ease at smoking the rear tires (remember this is 1974 or so, early malaise era) and the pace at which he mastered speed shifting (not using the clutch) was pretty impressive, too.
We drove around for hours. We were gone so long, the sun had set and my mother was totally freaked out! She had sent my two older brothers out to look for me, fearing I had been run over by a bus or some other disaster. Needless to say, this was small town Ohio, my mother called Louie’s mother after I got home (we all went to the same church, too!), and got him grounded for a month!
Of course, Louie wasn’t too fond of me either for a while after that, but he got over it. In fact, it wasn’t a month later that Louie’s older brother decided he wanted to go drag racing and whom did they call when they needed help building the race car and at the strip? (this is a whole other set of stories for another time)
Ever since that time, I have reserved a place in my fantasy garage for a small block first gen Barracuda…
…and the hits just keep on comin!
I always had a soft spot for these early Barracudas. They were certainly among Chrysler’s better looking cars in 1964. But I never so much thought of it as a Mustang competitor, but as a really cool fastback Valiant. And wow – a Barracuda with a 3 on the tree. Way to go Chrysler!
There was a hilarious Car and Driver feature around 1965 in which one of their editors called the Chrysler-Plymouth marketing department and asked them to explain the Barracuda’s marketing strategy. It’s reprinted in the Brooklands Barracuda portfolio.
I like the original Barracuda front-end better than the 1966 restyle. I’d rather have the Barracuda’s big brother though, a 66-67 Dodge Charger.
PS: The blue Barracuda pictured is a 66. The caption that appears if you hover over the pic says it’s a 67.
Bought one in ’70 that was “running rough and was going to blow”. Bought it cheap (less that 900$) and had it towed to my mech. Trouble was a bad U-joint and he said the slant 6 would run forever, almost did too. I drove it for eight years and 75K then sold it for 900$. What a sweet ride.
Neil
Probably would be a good idea at this point to mention the Rambler Tarpon, which as the “almost” precursor to the 1965 Rambler Marlin, could have preceded the Barracuda and Mustang in early ’64, if only its (I believe) Chicago Auto Show appearance in January 1964 had actually led to a production run.
If I remember correctly, the idea was abandoned (and later transposed into the Marlin) because the Rambler American (on which it was based) could not fit the 287/327 line of V8s they had at that time, and it would have had to soldier on with only the 232 straight six.
If only the smaller (block) 290 had become available a few years earlier, things might have been different….
Maybe someone can post a photo, as I cannot at the moment….!!
Have you seen our Marlin CC? :http://www.curbsideclassic.com/curbside-classics-american/curbside-classic-1967-rambler-marlin-the-humpback-whale-amcs-deadly-sin-1/
Really wish Chrysler had sent these down under they would have fitted into the Valiant line up no problem and being a gussied up Val would have been a plus where noone mentioned the Mustang being a Falcon underneath at the time Falcons were not a well reguarded car not yet anyway it took till 67 for the Falcon to out shine the Zephyr.
Boning in a Barracuda…Priceless
It’s worth noting that although there wasn’t a Barracuda hardtop or convertible until 1967, there was a very nice looking Valiant Signet hardtop and convertible. They were discontinued when the Barracuda coupe and convertible were introduced in 1967.
Although the Signet can’t technically be included in the Barracuda sales figures (there was also a Falcon convertible and hardtop to compete with the Mustang versions), some might say that the early Barracuda’s sales are skewed because they don’t include the Signets.
I owned a 65 for many years, four of them being in college (and a few adventures under glass). It was the slant 6/auto combo. Not exciting but dead reliable. I finally sold it when the rust took its toll (its first 20 years in New England). Too bad you can’t get repro sheet metal and patch panels like the Mustang…
Preferred the later models front end but adore more the 1970 onwards Cuda’s/
If memory is correct the near-flawless 1971 ‘Cuda convertible, 4-speed, 440 red for sale in Modesto, CA… parked on the street sitting there for weeks in I believe was 1977 (at least in the general era) with an asking price of $2,800 (memory distinct about that and engine/tranny/color/condition/etc)
Memory nags me that the 440 had the three dual carb option as the chrome label on the hood scoop boasted.
Sob.
No funds or safe place to keep it.
Sniff.
“South” Modesto had the el cheapo used car-only sale lot with a Superbird for $1,800 bucks. 440 blown, replaced by 383. Auto tranny but body in 8 outta’ 10 condition due to minor dents and dings from local dirt-track racing.
My instincts told me the future value would increase.
My prognostications, as so many others over the years, were accurate.
Sigh…….
the ‘Warren Buffet” of my socio-economic group but lacking discretionary funds accompanied by a series of jobs with firms that kept closing for various reasons.
Ramen and turkey hot dogs were vital vittles keeping hunger at bay.
Better than starving while staring at acquired American Iron, I suppose.
Will work for vittles, y’all.
y want picture interior cargo and seat rear, tankyou
I got my 65 Barracuda formula S in 1966. You can say what you want about the Mustang but they couldn’t touch my Cuda. If you took it to the strip they racede you with the 390 Fords, not the Mustangs and the 396 Chevys, not the 283s. According to the Ohio State Police, I had my Cuda at 130 MPH in 3rd gear, just shifting into 4th. I have almost gotten into fights over that one. Wish I had kept the ticket. LOTS of fun and good memories in that Cuda.
I have one of these sitting in my grandpa’s barn. We plan to fix it up but the poor thing was under a tarp for twenty years so it looks like crap and needs a new floor-pan, about the only thing that works are the doors and the engine turns over but won’t start. Beautiful car man.