Discover the Ferox V8, a Dutch supercar
It’s a cold Friday morning in the Betuwe region. Frost lies like a silver veil over the meadows. As I drive my small electric city car—handy for navigating Amsterdam’s canals but utterly out of place here—onto the Noorderhoek estate, I feel like an intruder. To my left stands a stately manor, while on my right lies the resurrected Palmesteyn Castle. Once a place where horses were bred, the focus has now shifted to a very different kind of horsepower.
Driving onto the estate, I spot a few Land Rovers discreetly scattered across the grounds. I consider myself lucky to occasionally take an old Defender for a spin and find my daily comfort in its Jaguar cousin. Yet here I am in my functional but soulless electric go-kart. It’s practical for city life, but it lacks a heartbeat. Finally, I park the compact car and take in my surroundings. The estate exudes calm, with stables, meadows, and the manor house tucked among the trees. But where is a supercar being built? Everything looks beautiful, but nothing suggests anything extraordinary is happening here.
The Silvestris: a yacht tender with supercar DNA
I call Maarten. “I’ll be right there!” he says. Moments later, he steps out of one of the stables. As he opens the door, I step into a completely different world. The cobblestones give way to a sleek concrete floor. Near the entrance sits a classic yet sharp-lined sports boat. The Silvestris was one of Maarten’s earlier creations, designed to compete with other yacht tenders but imbued with supercar philosophy. With a single button press, the two-seater benches fold forward, sealing the deck entirely. It’s a sophisticated system that not only shields the boat from the elements but transforms it into a streamlined design object.
Maarten remarks, “It’s fascinating how the automotive industry embraces exotic materials and constant innovation, while yacht building often sticks to standard white leather and flimsy tarps that strip away all allure.” He has a point. I could spend an entire feature discussing it, but we continue on to the real reason for my visit. Further into the workshop, something entirely different is taking shape: the DeBruyn Ferox V8, a no-compromise Dutch supercar.
The heart of the Ferox: engine and balance
The prototype Maarten uses for test drives is powered by a 4.2-liter V8 from Audi. Next to it, four chassis await completion for customers. These cars will feature a 6.2-liter V8 from Corvette, a motor usually positioned in the front but relocated to the rear in the Ferox. “We had to make quite a few modifications,” Maarten explains. “The engine has been adjusted at several points to perfectly match the Ferox’s specifications. The front end was redesigned, the underside reworked, and a custom flywheel with clutch assembly was developed for the rear to seamlessly integrate with the Getrag six-speed manual gearbox. We also modified the air intake system on top. The exhaust system is particularly challenging: it starts with an emissions module, transitions to an acoustic component, and ends with a carefully crafted aesthetic element.” These adjustments require meticulous engineering, but the result is a 500-hp engine producing 650 Nm of torque while meeting Euro 6d emissions standards. To understand the engine’s performance under real-world conditions, Maarten even purchased a Corvette, the original car where General Motors used this V8. Customer models, however, will be even more powerful.
A Spyker 2.0, but without compromises
The Ferox V8 is an evolution of the Spyker—it’s impossible to deny. “You could call it a Spyker 2.0, but without the compromises,” Maarten says. Where Spyker once hit its limits, the Ferox shows what happens when you break free from constraints. Rawer, lighter, more honest. Efficient? Perhaps less so. Take, for example, the suspension arms. In a perfectly symmetrical triangular pattern, the DeBruyn logo is subtly integrated. Beautiful, yes, but how often does anyone actually look there? And yet, that’s precisely the point: the Ferox is all about details that might never be seen but are always there.
Then there’s the front trunk. Open the frunk, and instead of mundane storage space, you’ll find the suspension struts fully exposed. Not hidden, not tucked away, but proudly on display. Is it necessary? Probably not. But the idea that everything is visible and thoughtfully designed—that even the technical finesse gets its moment in the spotlight—is what elevates the Ferox beyond a mere car. It’s a machine for those who understand that luxury isn’t about what you need but about what you appreciate.
The connection between driver and road
Wouter van Everdingen, a resident of the estate and Maarten’s collaborator, joins the conversation. We quickly delve into what makes the Ferox so special. “Americans make fantastic engines, but when they’re mounted in the front, as with many classics, it can feel a bit clumsy,” Wouter explains. “We have an older Bentley here with the engine so far forward that it feels like driving with a concrete block. Lovely, comfortable, and yes, it’s fast—but with the Ferox, you get that proven American powerplant in a position that makes it agile. With the engine at the rear and the weight perfectly balanced, you feel so much more of the car.” The four tires become an extension of your senses, placing you at the very center. Everything about the design focuses on maximizing the connection between driver and road. Unnecessary luxuries, like electric seat adjustments or motorized glove compartments, are intentionally left out—they would only distract from the pure driving experience.
How is it tested?
The Ferox undergoes its trials on the estate’s grasslands. You heard that right—not smooth asphalt, but a bumpy course that reveals every flaw. Only after that does it hit the racetrack. “If it performs well here, it performs well anywhere,” Maarten says. It’s all about control and feel.
What driving really feels like
Maarten shares an anecdote about a friend and client who recently visited in his Bugatti. When transitioning from the hypermodern supercar to the Ferox, his expression said it all. “This is what driving really feels like,” the Bugatti owner remarked. The recognizable Spyker gear lever, sitting prominently in the center as if directly connected to the engine, invites you to shift gears—a mechanical interaction that suddenly regains meaning. It’s precision in its purest form, stripped of the automation that often dulls the driving experience.
A future classic?
At the end of our conversation, I ask Wouter about the Bentley he mentioned earlier. He smiles and opens a large barn door. Inside sits a Bentley Continental, two Mercedes Unimogs, and, to my surprise, a bright red Jaguar E-Type. The lines, the character, the history—this is automotive art. Who can look at this and not feel the passion? The E-Type is the foundation, the first lesson, the spiritual mothership of what driving is truly meant to be.
No excessive technology, no four-wheel drive. Just a driver, a machine, and the road. Maarten plans to build only ten to fifteen per year, each one a handcrafted masterpiece for enthusiasts who truly understand what driving means. But bring your wallet—prices start at around six hundred thousand euros, excluding VAT.
