There are some people out there who are Porsche 911 purists. They believe that modding Stuttgart’s (arguably) most famous “son” is blasphemy and something not even to be countenanced.
Akira Nakai is clearly not one of these people. He is the founder and the very soul of Japanese Porsche tuner, RWB – an acronym for Rauh Welt Begriff, which is German for Rough World Concept.
For the purists, it’s difficult to see the appeal of an RWB-ed 911, but for its devotees, they wouldn’t have it any other way. An RWB 911 is divisive, to say the least, though there’s a brutally efficient method to the madness – put simply, it’s a widebody 911 taken to its logical extreme.
In spite of how shouty Nakai-san’s cars are (each one is unique), RWB as a business is somewhat more humble. It began as an automotive bodyshop in the Chiba prefecture a little under 20 years ago, and while it still isn’t a multi-million dollar empire with a staff count in the thousands, RWB has built up a global following. That following borders on the cult-like, with those in the know whispering in hushed, reverent tones about Nakai-san’s work.
One of those “followers” is Mr J, the owner of this red 964-generation 911. A project some three years in the making, J started looking around in 2012 for the “right 964 to come up for sale” and finally took the plunge in January 2014, just after Nakai-san agreed to take on the project.
The culmination of said project happened two months ago when Nakai-san flew down to Singapore to personally build up J’s 964. And that perhaps is another part of RWB’s appeal – when you hear of a company’s boss being hands-on, they probably have nothing on Nakai-san. After all, he’s the one doing the hacking and sawing.
Yes, you heard that correctly. To turn a 911 into an RWB, the standard wheel arches have to go, and they’re lovingly lopped off to make way for the tuner’s trademark massively flared items, with the new fenders then pop-rivetted into place. If that sounds a little industrial, it is, though that’s entirely in keeping with RWB’s “rough” philosophy.
However, to say that Nakai-san’s work is crude would be doing it a grave injustice. Yes, it’s true he doesn’t make any sketches (the plans are all in his head) and all cutting is done freehand, but the finish on an RWB-ed car is incredibly high.
J said Nakai-san did a full wheel alignment (after the fitment of the massively offset wheels) using just a tape measure. “Even when it was just off the jacks, the car drove straight”, J enthused.
And Nakai-san’s rather cavalier attitude extends to the way he names all of his creations, something he does on the spur of the moment. This has led to the first 911 he built being called Stella (as in Artois, as in the Belgian beer), and the others he has christened go by such far-out names as Pandora One, Natty Dread and Good Hills Speed. As for J, his RWB 911 is called Natalie Lucas, the names of his two young children.
Just like his kids, J loves his re-imagined 911, with its broad, low stance, though he says it does attract a little too much attention when it’s out on the road. Not like there’s a lot of opportunity for that to happen, because Natalie Lucas doesn’t really get out much, perhaps just once a week “to keep the batteries charged”.
This isn’t because J doesn’t enjoy driving his RWB, but its ground-hugging ride height (according to J, its front lip is just 2.5 inches off the ground) severely limits the places it can go. Thankfully, he said, the short overhangs of the 911 mean humps don’t pose too much of a threat.
For all the drama afforded by the RWB widebody, J’s ride hasn’t received mechanical mods at the moment, though that’s all set to change soon. Just as well, since most of Nakai-san’s other “babies” are fire-breathers with enough performance enhancements to make your toes curl.
They might make the toes of 911 purists curl, too, but from what we’ve gleaned from Nakai-san and his attitude, he doesn’t really care, and that, much like his creations, is just plain cool.
