The Two Cars Named Caravelle Couldn’t Be More Different

I’m not sure exactly what it is about Renault, but they seem to have a peculiar knack for sharing names with American cars of very, very different design, character, technical makeup, everything. The last time I brought this up, I was talking about Parisiennes, of both Renault and Pontiac varietals, but now I want to discuss Caravelles, still one Renault, but the other this time a Plymouth. Like the other Renault v. American-Car-With-A-Name-That-Starts-With-P, these two cars are wildly different despite sharing a name.

I don’t really understand why this keeps happening to Renault, this knack for sharing names with big American cars. The source of the name Caravelle in both cases seems to stem from the word caravel, the Portuguese sailing vessel designed specifically for trans-oceanic travel. Of Columbus’ famous trio of ships, two – the Niña and Pinta — were caravels.

I think I first heard the word caravel in this song from harpist and suspected elf Joanna Newsom:

Here’s a bit of trivia! I knew someone who played in her band in the earlyish 2000s, and once shared a meal with her and some friends at Canter’s, my favorite LA deli. And now, predictably, I’m posting a video of her singing and playing the harp in a story about a French and American car named for a type of ship that’s mentioned in passing in this song. Life’s funny that way, right?

Anyway, back to the Caravelles; I’m not sure what the reason is for the more luxurious spelling, but it’s a hallmark of both the Mopar and Renault. The Renault was originally named the Floride, because the car was conceived in Florida by a group of American dealers who wanted something sporty and fun to enhance Renault’s image in America. The car was called the Floride in non-English speaking markets, but was renamed to the Caravelle, especially for America, where it was thought the other 49 states might feel bad not having the car named for them.

This seems a little silly to me; it’s not like anyone was expecting Renault to call a stylish little convertible the Idaho or North Dakota.

The Caravelle was based on the same rear-engine/RWD platform as the Renault Dauphine, and came in both coupé and convertible body styles. Personally, I think these are just lovely cars, and I especially like the grille-less front end treatment with its forward rake and sharp creases.

I like this sort of fake cutaway used in the brochure; the effect was archived just by removing a door and superimposing the engine at the rear, and a nice set of luggage packed into the front trunk. This is a pretty quick way to get a cutaway effect, and I’m surprised how well it works.

Damn, these were cool! I’ve seen them in person out in the wild once or twice, and they always make an impact. They’re essentially the Karmann-Ghia equivalent to the Dauphine’s Beetle: a sports car built on the bones of an affordable car.

The Plymouth Caravelle is a very different sort of machine; there’s two generations of them, which overlapped, kind of confusingly. The first started in 1983, and was a front engine/RWD sedan and coupé, starting as a Canadian model and then going to the US in 1985. The sedan version (or salon) was a sibling to the Dodge Diplomat, a car, when in police car form, was one of the most destroyed movie cop cars of the 1980s, or at least it seems that way. I had a high school friend who drove a Diplomat and boy was it a steaming pile. Maybe the Caravelles were less so.

The coupé version had an interesting B-pillar design that incorporated a partial vinyl roof, but these were Canada-only cars.

In 1985, the second-gen Caravelles were created as a way to replace the Chrysler E-Class, and filled the gap between the smaller K-cars and the larger, still RWD Gran Fury. These new Caravelles were K-car-based as well, modern, FWD machines, using the same stretched K-car platform as the Dodge 600.

The new Caravelle had a coupé version as well, and could be had with the ubiquitous 2.2-liter four or a Mitsubishi V6. I can barely remember these cars as being any different from many other similar K-car derivatives in the Mopar stable, if I’m honest.

I definitely prefer the French Caravelles in this context, but I’m sure the American/Canadian ones have their fans as well. What’s important is that we’re all well aware that there are two very different automotive Caravelles, and I think we’ve accomplished that.

So you can all relax.