What is it like on the inside?
Permission to come aboard, skipper? Et cetera. Actually, kitsch wannabe-boat detailing is conspicuous by its absence. The steering wheel, for instance, doesn’t have a load of wooden handles sticking out of the rim. There’s no well-oiled teak decking, no buoys dangling from the sides. You can’t even sunbathe on the bonnet.
It’s a functional, no-nonsense interior, with a rubberised watertight covering over the radio, chunky buttons and switches for operating the various machinery, and some rather unsupportive waterproof seats. The rears are about as welcoming as the seats you’ll find in a Porsche 911, only with more headroom.
How much equipment do I get?
Forget Apple CarPlay or radar-guided cruise control: the Panther’s cockpit is like a trip back to the Nineties. You get a radio, some dials, and that’s about it. The mirrors adjust electrically, but no automatic headlights.
Do you care? Thought not. It’s difficult to nit-pick over equipment when you’ve got so many rare and unusual switches inside, marked ‘Engage Jet Drive’ and ‘Wheels Up / Wheels Down’.
Of particular amusement are the triplet of switches for discharging the bilge tanks – these fire trapped water out of drains in the car’s flanks. Especially useful when a cyclist is about to cut you up or run a red light, that one.
Because the rear is full of engine, the boot is actually under the bonnet, which is held down by fastening pins. In here you’ll find enough room for a small grocery shop, or a couple of lifejackets. Maybe some flares. And an uninflated lylo.