Oric-1
Cambridge, October 1979. Dr Paul Johnson and Barry Muncaster had just founded Tangerine Computer Systems in the effervescent atmosphere that characterized the microcomputer industry. Their company's name reflected a somewhat whimsical trend: after Apple, the age of fruit in computing had arrived. Their first offspring, the Microtan 65, paved the way for what would soon become a far more ambitious adventure.
Paul Kaufman joined the team during the summer of 1981 and took charge of the Tansoft Gazette. The company grew and restructured. In early 1982, after splitting off its Tandata Prestel division, Tangerine relocated to Cambridge Science Park and launched Tansoft, its software arm. It was at this point that Oric Products International was born in April 1982, with Tangerine serving as the research laboratory.
Initially, however, the idea seemed quite different: to design a desktop computer for executives, capable of interfacing with the Prestel network. Kaufman drafted specifications for a hypothetical Microtan 2, enhanced with sound and graphics capabilities. These reflections gave birth in late 1981 to the Tangerine Tiger project, an ambitious machine equipped with three processors: a Z80 for CP/M, a 6809 to manage peripherals, and a dedicated graphics chip. But this Tiger would never roar: H.H. Electronics acquired the project, which would sink into obscurity.
On 27 January 1983, it was in the sumptuous setting of Coworth Park Manor, the former residence of Lord and Lady Derby, that Oric Products International officially unveiled the Oric-1. Peter Harding, the 34-year-old commercial director, set the tone with disconcerting confidence: six major contracts signed with retail chains for over 200,000 units. His objective was to beat Clive Sinclair by offering much more for much less money.
The pricing strategy seemed bold. One had to shell out £129 for the 16k version, £169.95 for the 48k model. Behind this machine, a team of talented developers worked tirelessly. Andy Brown and Chris Shaw, two seasoned programmers, tackled the main ROM. Peter Halford developed the cassette routines and Oric Mon, while Kaufman coded the sound portions on a Microtan in Forth before Andy Brown transposed them into machine language.
The first reactions from the specialist press remained cautious. The Centronics printer port caused a sensation: "unusual, even unique for a machine at this price," noted one critic. But ROM bugs and cassette loading failures tarnished the image. Oric's reaction was swift: Cosma Sales, the cassette duplicator, was shown the door, accused of being responsible for the tens of thousands of defective cassettes in circulation.
Across the Channel, success was slow to come. France proved more welcoming, with A.S.N. signing an exclusive distribution contract on 29 June 1983 based on 4,000 units per month. The French market developed a quality software ecosystem, making the Oric the French equivalent of the British Spectrum. An unexpected success in a country with a reputation for being difficult to conquer.
This upturn was short-lived. February 1985: Edenspring placed Oric into receivership. The figures were chilling: £5.5 million in debt against only £3 million in assets. The fall seemed inevitable when, in June 1985, S.P.I.D. emerged from France and acquired the company for "several hundred thousand pounds." The Atmos, successor to the Oric-1, came back to life in a Norman factory.
The new French owners attempted to relaunch the machine with the Telestrat, specially designed for the Minitel network. The idea seemed attractive on paper, but the high price and market specificity limited ambitions. December 1987: Oric International fell back into receivership, this time with substantial tax debts on the books. A year later, in December 1988, production lines shut down permanently.
The Oric-1 was based on the popular 6502 processor, a choice dictated as much by its reputation as by its moderate cost. Its memory handled text and high-resolution display with remarkable sound capabilities. Its serial graphics attributes proved well-suited to games, a significant asset. The machine featured modified Microsoft BASIC and a UHF modulator for television connection.
The Oric story reveals the pitfalls of the 1980s market. Despite honorable technical specifications and attractive prices, the company failed to control its growth and consistently supply the market with quality software. Broken promises accumulated, notably concerning the Microdisc floppy drive, announced in 1983 but only available in 1984, when it was almost too late.
Yet the Oric survived its own demise thanks to a community of passionate users. Publications like Oric User Monthly continued to appear long after the company's end. In France as in the United Kingdom, user groups still maintain the memory of this machine which, despite its flaws, introduced an entire generation to personal computing.
The Oric adventure embodies that era when technical boldness rubbed shoulders with commercial improvisation. While the ultimate failure was perhaps inevitable, it testifies to the creative vitality of the British computer industry in the 1980s, capable of offering credible alternatives to industry giants in a constantly evolving market.