A GROUP OF STUDENTS, rugged up in beanies and puffer jackets and carrying clipboards, scurries into the Engineering Building at the Australian National University (ANU), in Canberra. Deep in the bowels of the drab building is a mechanical workshop, its walls plastered with mission statements, mathematical equations and shelves of tools. Taking centre stage on the floor is what appears to be the fibreglass shell of a spaceship. Or is it a catamaran?
Turns out, it’s neither. It’s the chassis of Solar Spirit, a solar-powered car being constructed by the ANU Solar Racing team. It’s a frigid June evening in the nation’s capital, and this workshop seems an unlikely place to find a group of 40 students attempting to build a state-of-the-art vehicle that runs purely on energy from the sun. They’re not just driven to design and create a working car, but also to be competitive in the Bridgestone World Solar Challenge (BWSC), an event that attracts entrants from all over the world. It sees teams drive custom-made solar-powered vehicles on a gruelling 3021km journey from Darwin, in the Northern Territory, to Adelaide, in South Australia. Internationally renowned, the event has been running since 1987 and is a genuine challenge for seasoned professionals, let alone a motley mob of undergraduates assembled from each of the university’s academic colleges, not just the engineering faculty.
Many of the European teams that compete in the challenge enjoy multimillion-dollar budgets and are backed by internationally renowned sponsors. The event is still months away, but the German team, Team Sonnenwagen Aachen, is already testing the aerodynamics of its ultra-sleek monohulled Covestro Adelie in the Mercedes-Benz wind tunnel in Stuttgart. Rumour has it the entire car exhibits the wind resistance of a standard car’s single side mirror. Talk about stiff competition.
But what these fresh-faced students lack in financial backing and cutting-edge know-how they more than make up for in enthusiasm and dedication. While many of their peers are bingeing on Netflix, these wannabe tech heads are devoting up to 40 hours per week on top of their studies to prepare for the challenge.
“This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity,” says Isaac Martin, a strapping lad who’d look more at home on the basketball court than lying on his back twiddling wires under the chassis. A fourth-year engineering student specialising in renewable energy, he is the leader of the ANU Solar Racing team. It’s his job to ensure the fibreglass, tyres and wiring strewn across the workshop floor somehow make it to the start line in four months as a functioning car.
“We still have a lot to do to make it to Darwin,” he says. Talk about an understatement.
Fast-forward to 22 October 2023, and although it’s only 8am, the streets of Darwin are already lined with throngs of Territorians who’ve come to cheer on the cavalcade of futuristic-looking cars about to embark on their epic journey south. Some are sitting on their eskies, others are in their eskies.
Akin to crowds at the Tour de France, most are here for the spectacle, rather than to closely follow the fortunes of a particular team. But there is one major difference: instead of popping bottles of champagne, Darwinians are
