Amphicar

April 4, 2025

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ajtonyperkins

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My parents owned a West German made Amphicar exactly like the one above. They bought it in 1968 when we lived in LaCrosse, Wisconsin. We took many expeditions on the Mississippi River.

In the middle of the hood are the marine navigational lights: red for port-driver’s side, green for starboard-passenger’s side.

There was a white light on a pole that you would erect on the stern when boating.

Behind the lights and between the windshield wipers is the horn.

The Amphicar boasted two propellers in the rear.

Here, the American flag is hoisted on the stern light pole.

Like the Volkswagen Beetle, another West German import, the Amphicar featured the engine in the rear and the trunk in the front.

The rear hatch of a VW Bug open, exposing the air-cooled engine.

Disney made a collection of Herbie the Love Bug films. Here, Don Knotts is taking a ride. Herbie was a self-driving VW Beetle and had his own human-like personality.

I learned to drive a stick shift with the Amphicar. It had “four on the floor.” I would sit in the passenger’s seat. When it was time to shift, my mother would push in the clutch with her foot and shout out the gear. I would then move the gear knob. One time, I was a little too eager to shift, and my mother said, “Just a second.” I thought she said, “Shift to second.” This resulted in me grinding the gears. Mother scolded me, but I told her I thought she wanted me to shift. She never said “Just a second” again.

Mother took over the shifting duties when she needed to stop going up a hill. Shifting in that case was difficult. If she wasn’t careful, she could roll backwards down the hill.

The interior of the Amphicar. The white gear shift knob is in the center. The other smaller knob to the right of it, I don’t remember. It is likely the emergency brake, or it could be used to engage the propellers.

One time we took a trip from our new home in Marinette, Wisconsin, to visit her sister, Aunt LaVerna, in Kenosha, Wisconsin. I was about eight years old. The trip must have been 200 miles, and this was before the Interstate highways were built. We had to drive through Green Bay and Milwaukee, stopping at traffic lights. She allowed me to shift the whole way.

I had no difficulties driving my father’s stickshift, three on a tree, Ford pick-up truck when I was 16 and passed my driving test.

Living in Marinette, there were no car dealers or mechanics who worked on imported cars. Since the Amphicar was made in West Germany, it needed metric tools. At that time, in the early 1970s, metric tools were not as widespread as they are today.

Unfortunately, my parents sold our Amphicar too soon. My mother was eager to depart with the Amphicar since it didn’t run. A couple of years later, Japanese auto imports flooded the American market during the Arab Oil Embargo. This demanded that metric tools be available in auto dealers and mechanic shops across the country.

I remember going to a junk yard with my father. We traveled over 100 miles. There, we found a wrecked Amphicar. Dad was looking for a part to fix the car. I think it was the bilge pump, but I could be wrong. I don’t know what actually happened, but I do know Dad did try.

Twenty years later, my mother and I went to an estate auction 30 miles from our home, and there we saw our Amphicar. All the colors and markings were the same. It wasn’t for sale, but the sponsor of the auction owned it. Had it been for sale, I would have made sure I won no matter what the cost. The car featured vanity plates which said, “FLIPPER.” I put my hand on Flipper’s front hood, held it there for some time, said goodbye to my old friend, and thanked him for teaching me how to drive a stick shift.

I would use that skill years later when driving my Ford Ranger pickup truck. The goodbye was bittersweet. I was sad to say goodbye to Flipper, but I was pleased that our car found a good home.

Here is the Flipper theme song in German, which is somewhat appropriate since the Amphicars were made in Germany.

Decades later, I asked Mother why she didn’t let my father put the car in mothballs until it could be fixed. She replied, “I told him to sell the car, but I didn’t think he would.” This is another prime example of poor communication in their marriage.

My father’s philosophy of life was, “Happy wife, Happy life.” He could never make her happy, but he did try to the bitter end. He always said he wanted to outlive my mother for one day so he could experience one day of happiness. Sadly, that didn’t materialize for him.