Renault Master VS Mitsubishi Triton

I did a mix of driving in the Master over the week I had it, including more than 600km of unladen driving. 

Why so many kays? I used it to move house, which meant I completed two “full” trips between Sydney’s inner-west and Cowra in the Central West of NSW, and two “empty” trips back to Sydney, as well.

I’ll get to how it drove with a load on board in the section below, but the unladen experience was pretty positive.

The engine and transmission are well teamed, and there’s a good amount of usable torque and very little lag to speak of. 

As with this entire generation of engines - a derivative engine in a different state of tune is used in the Nissan Navara - the refinement is mostly good until you reach higher in the rev range, where it can get a bit noisy and clattery. But the best work is done down low in the rev zone anyway. 

The manual shift action isn’t what I’d call “slinky”, more “clicky”. But it’s easy to row between gears as the action is light and the clutch isn’t too heavy, either. The gearing is generous, meaning you can saunter in sixth gear around 70km/h without the engine labouring too hard, and it’ll accelerate from there to freeway pace - provided you’re not going uphill.

There is a bit of ratio management required if you encounter a steep incline, but generally it’s a decently strong powertrain for its intended use - more on that below.

I’m always astounded about the steering and ride characteristics of vans of this size. Yes, it’s large, and yes, it can get blown around a little by crosswinds, and yes, you need to factor in the longish-wheelbase and larger turning circle that results from that… but it drives a lot smaller than it is.

The steering is direct and accurate, easy to judge at high or low speeds - which is great news when you’re parking (and there’s a good quality reversing camera and rear parking sensors, but you’ve just gotta remember the roof height, too).

The ride is adequate without a load on board, too. The independent McPherson strut front suspension copes well with changes in surface and bump control, though it can be a little bouncy at times. The rear suspension is a leaf-spring torsion beam setup, and it can be a little clumsy over road joins when unladen. 

It also brakes well, with solid and trustworthy response from the four-wheel disc brakes at all speeds.

Both utes on this test provide a very competent and nearly SUV-like experience, and while you can do even better in this segment with the likes of the Ford Ranger or Volkswagen Amarok, these two are very evenly matched. Still, there are some subtleties that may affect your choice.

Triton unladen driving

Starting with the Triton, and straight away you notice its excellent visibility and commanding driving position. The modern feel for the cabin is reflected in the driving experience thanks to a tidy layout, easy operation of screens and dials, and relatively straightforward software.

The steering is notably heavier in the Triton and it takes more effort to drive over longer periods of time, as a result it can be more fatiguing. It does lend itself to plenty of feel in the corners and on uneven terrain, however.

The ride is also firmer in the Triton. It can deal with undulations and larger bumps quite well, but smaller, sharper road imperfections were communicated to the cabin. On the other hand, the cabin feels overall more refined, with not as much road and engine noise making its way inside. The wider track on this new-generation version offered plenty of stability and confidence in the corners.

When it comes to deploying power the Triton certainly feels as strong as a dual-cab should, although a slight moment of additional lag required to actually get the power to the wheels was notable, even though technically peak torque arrives at lower rpm in the Triton. It leaves a feeling of the Triton needing to work harder than its rival despite its higher outputs on paper.

While the six-speed auto was also mostly as smooth as it should be, it can get caught off guard and take a moment to change up or down.

The safety systems in the Triton are reasonably well tuned. The example we tested scored a software update Mitsubishi deployed to address issues it had from the launch with an over-active driver monitoring suite. The result is good, with the system being mostly hands off. The tech was a bit confused by the use of sunglasses, however.

Its lane keep software was also more aggressive than the system in the D-Max on the rare occasion it intervened. These kinds of issues are quite common on modern SUVs and passenger vehicles, and as a symptom of being one of the first utes to fully deploy them, the Triton’s systems are a little imperfect.

On the whole we like the Triton. It’s a very modern drive experience, although it was interesting to find some parts aren't as smooth or seamless as its rival in this test.

D-Max unladen driving

The D-Max feels a bit more closed in than its Triton rival here in the cabin, with loads of dark trim and slightly more limited visibility out the rear compared to the Triton. It does have massive wing mirrors which offer a wide view of neighbouring lanes.

Somewhat frustratingly, the screens (both in the dash and multimedia screen) appear more dull than the ones in the Triton and more susceptible to glare. The software is better than the pre-facelift model and it’s faster, but still a bit clumsily laid out.

The D-Max starts to impress as soon as you set off, however. Its steering is much lighter than the Triton, but manages to maintain enough feel in the corners to imbue the driver with confidence.

The ride is also excellent. It’s comfortable and compliant over most bumps and imperfections, while maintains control without being bouncy. It has an element of the ladder chassis jiggle common among ladder frame vehicles, but hides it well.

The D-Max’ 4JJ3 3.0-litre engine is renowned for being simple and powerful, and this is especially clear when compared to its technically more powerful rival.

It feels as though the power is delivered more quickly and more smoothly than the Triton. The six-speed unit in the D-Max is slick and straightforward and seemingly never caught off-guard. Perhaps the only area where the D-Max trails the Triton in this respect is the amount of noise the physically larger engine generates. Cabin ambiance isn’t quite as nice in the D-Max generally.

Safety systems are also seemingly better tuned. Not a single safety system interfered with the drive experience in our entire time with the D-Max, which speaks well to those who like to be in full control.

To sum the D-Max up, it does almost everything when it comes to driving slightly better than the Triton. On top of this, its light steering and softer seats will leave you less fatigued at the end of the day.

Load test

While we didn’t take our utes off-road for this review, we did load their trays up to see how they would handle work duties. Our new friends at BC Sands in Sydney’s Taren Point helped us out by lending us 500kg of firewood and some of their expert forklift operators to make this test possible, check them out here.

In total we had 500kg of firewood in the tray and two occupants in the cab for about 660kg on board of both vehicles. From there we took them on the same 13km loop which involved roundabouts, T-junctions, speed bumps, downhill and uphill stints as well as a brief jaunt on a multi-lane expressway.

First we loaded up the D-Max. Its narrower tray made it harder for the forklift operator to drop the bag of wood in, and once loaded its suspension compressed a significant amount.

The edges of its tray proved useful for mounting ratchet straps, although it is notable how limiting the smaller distance between the wheel arches is and the amount of space the manual roller cover takes up. Our total 660kg load is about two-thirds of the D-Max’ total permissible 990kg.

With the weight in the tray, the D-Max was initially unsettling, but confidence grew. This is because its big engine barely feels the additional weight and the suspension is capable enough to handle the mass despite the initial compression. While the softness feels like it requires caution in the corners, it handles additional compression from speed bumps, road imperfections and hills in its stride, with no secondary bouncing and a good amount of remaining ride comfort. The steering feels only slightly heavier with the additional weight.

After our short stint, the D-Max consumed 11.9L/100km according to its computer, which is reasonable.

Next up, we loaded the Triton. Its firmer springs did not compress as much as the D-Max, and the additional width in its tray made it significantly easier for the forklift operator to drop the bag of firewood in the tray.

The Triton seems more confident in its footing initially, with less compression and the additional track width making it feel as though it would be better than the D-Max. However, things changed as we drove it.

The Triton’s engine also barely feels the additional load, but does need to rev a smidge more. The transmission mostly copes well, although the odd occasion where it's caught out for a moment when changing up or down is more noticeable. The steering, which was already firm, remains unchanged.

The biggest issue the Triton faces is its suspension. With the additional load over the rear axle, large bumps cause a pogo effect with two or three secondary bounces after the initial compression. This particularly gnarly trait is what set it apart from the comparatively smoother D-Max.

The Triton claimed to use slightly less fuel than the D-Max under load on our short route, at 11.1L/100km.