Jacqui dons flying helmet and goggles to test a Jaguar with a particularly long New Zealand racing pedigree
It’s hard to know how to react to Bryan and Marion Wyness: let loose the green-eyed monster or think it couldn’t happen to a nicer pair. Consider, for a moment their garage full of enviable bikes and cars — and the fact they’ve the time and wherewithal to enjoy them. (Indeed, to traverse the fabled cross-Asia silk route on a new BMW motorbike; race a historic Jaguar; potter round New Zealand’s gorgeous East Cape à deux on a Harley…)
Yup, the green-eyed monster was poised to go, but in the event, stayed firmly on the leash, for Bryan offered me the keys to his Jag. Correction — one of his Jags, or to be more accurate, Marion’s Jag, as it has her name on the papers. That’s because she had to pick it up from the auction and Bryan — in a meeting — received the text message: “I love it. It’s mine.”
The pair were dead set on this, the 1951 XK120. “We’d just missed out on an ex-Ron Roycroft alloy-bodied car — it went overseas — and when we heard this one was for sale we were determined to keep such a part of New Zealand racing history in New Zealand.” The most famous element of that history is Ray Archibald’s drive in the first New Zealand GP at Ardmore in January 1954.
Provenance
Bryan’s proud of the car’s heritage, driving me to Ardmore aerodrome — where he’s well known as a pilot — to reminisce. We paused at the end of the runway: “I ran it down that straight 50 years after that first GP to the day in January 2004 at an air show.
“A Grand Prix group had been set up in the ’50s to run an international GP,” Bryan says. “It wasn’t the first one, but the aim was to get current GP cars to New Zealand and they got the use of Ardmore from 1954 to 1962.
“That first one, they got a stellar entry from the UK and Europe and they allowed sports cars like this one to run with the GP cars. But the guy who won it, Stan Jones, was driving a home-built Australian car with an engine from a World War II Scout car — the Maybach Special.”
Bryan remembers the race, though he wasn’t among the reputedly 60,000-strong crowd. “I was in Wellington and listened to it on the radio — etched in my mind is the eerie howl of the 1.5-litre V16 BRM down this straight, revving up to 14,000rpm, which in those days was just phenomenal.”
But back to his Jag, which withdrew after 91 of the 101 laps from overheating. “Remember, it was a pretty much bog-standard British sports car racing a very long GP — each lap was about 2.1 miles. A week later at Wigram, it finished sixth in the Lady Wigram Trophy race, then completed a sports car race and got second place. That’s something like 150 miles of racing in one day.”
It was a memorable day for other reasons. A blown tyre put Archibald into the hay bales and Bryan’s still got a photo of some hapless mechanic tugging hay from the undercarriage.
People tend to think that Archibald — the founder of Archibald motors in Christchurch, then Archibald and Shorter in Auckland — was the first owner, but he wasn’t. This car was dispatched from Jaguar in the UK on September 8, 1951 — destination Independent Motor Sales, Wellington. And there it sat, for reasons unknown, until February 11, 1953, when Georgina Buchanan — from the well-known Masterton car and racing family — bought it.
She owned it for just three months before Archibald slapped his money down. His first move was to fit a fully modified C-Type head to the then 3.4-litre engine. He raced the car on at least 10 occasions, including the GP, between 1954 and ’57, before he sold it to Alf Bell.
That detail prompts the comment that people remember the car, often telling him they’ve got a photo of it racing. “I pulled up in Arrowtown during a Jaguar rally and this woman came up and said ‘Did Alf Bell own this car?’ I said yes, and she said ‘He’s my brother’.
“So I drove the car round to his place at Lake Hayes, and he was quite emotional — he didn’t think it still existed.”
It’s had around 20 owners in all during an eventful life that included a role in the film The Scarecrow.
Heresy
When Bryan bought it, not surprisingly, it was getting a little tired. Since then it’s had a bare metal re-spray in British Racing Green. The brakes — the drums replaced by 1950s discs front and rear before Bryan bought it — and the standard lever arm shocks have been overhauled; new fuel lines fitted, and the engine taken out to 3.8 litres. Twin two-inch SU carbs and C-type exhaust manifolds were fitted too — “Which is why it goes so well,” Bryan says, “because it breathes so well.”
The idea of throwing this beauty around on the gravel seems heretical, but he’s adamant it’s great on the slithery stuff
As the story unfolds, there’s a rattle and a nearby hangar opens. Chris Verrall appears, is immediately entranced by the Jag and gets talking: “I’ve got a Series II XJ6. I’ve done 350,000km since I got it.” Bryan has one too, and they’re off. Soon the bonnet’s up. “It’s a 3.8 with an early straight-port head off a Mk10 — the same as an E-type,” Bryan says. “It’s all balanced, lightened and shot-peened. I’ve spec’ed a lot of Jag engines and this is beautiful. Standard crank, standard rods, but all lightened, balanced and shot-peened.” The engine is somewhat misleadingly embossed with the C-type name. It isn’t a C-type engine, “but those were the cam shaft covers for the C.”
Other changes are designed for frequent running under variable conditions. “So I can rally it in gravel, there’s an air cleaner from an XJ-6 fitted under the right guard. You can’t see it, so it looks authentic, but it stops dust getting into the engine. The original was wire mesh and it really only kept stones out.”
The idea of throwing this beauty around on the gravel seems heretical, but he’s adamant it’s great on the slithery stuff. “Being a separate chassis there’s so much flex, I think the wheels are always in contact with the road.”
The tyres attract interest. “I’ve got them on all the Jags but the V12. They’re British Avons — they’re excellent. They look like period cross-plies, but are actually radials. And they’re narrow — it’s easy to over-tyre a car like this.”
While he’s talking, another punter stops — he’s got an old Chevvy and is on the hunt for Avgas. Of course the airport’s awash with the stuff, but it’s not for sale to passers-by. Nevertheless, a serious debate on fuel and mix proportions is soon underway — our photographer seemingly specialises in Avgas disaster stories.
This Jaguar was tuned to run on 100 octane — it runs rich on anything else — and on the road Bryan likes to use a 20 per cent high-octane blend with 96. Of course, when he’s racing he uses Avgas, or it detonates.
The punter’s eyes are straying to the photo of Sybill Lupp taped to the bonnet. All the entrants in the Sybill Lupp Memorial race run a few years ago raced with her photo taped to the bonnet and Bryan’s left it there. Lupp, who’d raced MGs and Jaguars post-war and set up a Jaguar workshop in Wellington, serviced the Wyness family Jaguars from 1953 to the early 1980s and Bryan clearly admires her very much.
Power
But I’m impatient to cut the conversation short; it’s time to drive. The Jaguar’s soundtrack is especially appreciated by the passenger, because the double muffler exits just beneath my door. The wind’s buffeting my left ear, but despite the lack of a proper windscreen, I’m surprisingly well protected and warm from the shoulders down. More surprising, it’s quiet enough to converse, albeit with slightly raised voices. That’s because of the bit of plastic between the tiny twin screens. “It’s the best mod I’ve ever done — it just transforms the car for touring, otherwise the cold air and water streams straight off the bonnet and onto the occupants.”
The wind’s buffeting my left ear, but despite the lack of a proper windscreen, I’m surprisingly well protected and warm from the shoulders down
Leaving the motorway, Bryan changes down — there’s a loin-melting double-bark as the throttle blips. “It’s beautiful for heel-and-toeing, which lots of cars aren’t now,” he says. “It was set up to race originally, but what I love about this Jag motor is it’s so tractable. It’s going about 50kph here and I’m tooling along at 1200rpm in top.”
Now it’s my turn. On with Marion’s leather helmet and goggles. Slide into the seat, close the door and button the side-cover over it. Strap into the four-point harness and survey the instruments. Really only the tacho is visible, the amps, oil-water and petrol-oil dials disappearing into the distance with the speedo almost invisible to the driver at the passenger’s end of the array.
Release the fly-off handbrake — a finger-touch and it drops to the floor. Clutch in, engage gear and we’re off. That was easier than I’d expected. The clutch is stiff, but not impossibly so, and power pickup is easy to feel. It helps that the gearbox relates well to the modern driver. The old Moss gearbox has been replaced with a Jaguar all synchro version from a year or two later.
The Moss had no synchro on first “and it was pretty shonky on second, third and fourth, so it was quite hard to drive and bloody awful if you got it wrong. ” This replacement has a built-in oil pump, so it’s a very low-wear ’box. The pedals are a bit close together — Bryan wears special driving shoes and even my smallish feet clashed occasionally, but soon I was tooling around Ardmore, getting the feel of it.
There’s no power steering of course, but though it’s heavy it’s nicely progressive and not too hard for my puny arms to manage comfortably. There’s oodles of feel through the surprisingly small wheel. “That’s not the standard steering wheel — it’s a little race wheel. I didn’t fit it, but I’ve got the standard one. It’s twice the size, and it’s got a bullet-shaped centrepiece, with the point sitting right close up.” His hand’s hovering inches from his heart as he grins — “you wouldn’t want to crash! It’d punch right into your chest.”
Nice thought, thanks Bryan. Speaking of which, we’d be in trouble if we rolled? “I’ve got a roll cage, which I do fit for races and hill climbs. The hoop bolts in behind the driver and passenger seats, with a brace from there down into the passenger footwell.”
Deliverance
What a wuss — it didn’t need a roll cage in the old days and its drivers survived — just. Alf Bell took the car to Ardmore for the 1959 GP meeting and flipped it during the sports car race. He claimed to have lost the brakes, hitting a straw bale and rolling it. He’d thrown himself into the cockpit, hanging onto the gear lever for dear life, and when the dust settled was seen emerging through the door, waving to the crowd.
“I’ve bounced it over so many roads I’ve buckled the wire wheels. They’ve been rebalanced, but there’s still a bit of a vibe.”
Such exploits continued — a week after he sold it, Alf had a call from the police, asking “whether anyone was hurt?” The new owner had put the car over a bank before completing the change of ownership papers¦
It’s that sort of car. You couldn’t imagine it sitting quietly in a museum — it wants to be driven. Not only does it sound fantastic, it’s very tractable. You can keep the revs low and ride the torque, but don’t lift off at the wrong moment. Massive understeer sees the Jag spearing straight ahead like a bolting racehorse; keep a grip on your nerves and pressure on the throttle and it carves round, even when you thought you were going too fast to make it.
Brian says he enjoys the balance between lift-off understeer and power-on oversteer. He uses the throttle to square off corners, especially in the gravel. That’s something I enjoy in the big Aussie V8s, but I wasn’t game to try it in Bryan’s XK120, even if he hadn’t been beside me at the time.
That Bryan and Marion really don’t treat the car gently is soon revealed by the odd vibe at speed. A slightly abashed Bryan explains, “I’ve bounced it over so many roads I’ve buckled the wire wheels. They’ve been rebalanced, but there’s still a bit of a vibe.”
He’s not kidding about the rough roads — this car’s been over the infamous Motu, and Bryan recalls one R’oilcan rally: “It’s the one everyone in the Waitemata club looks forward to because it’s diabolically difficult. There are masses of unsealed roads and farm tracks. Of course, we got a flat and the water table was so soft we sank in and I couldn’t get the jack under. We ended up using fence posts and all sorts to change the tyre.”
Bryan blames his local club for some of the shenanigans. “The Waitemata Branch of the Vintage Car Club is a seriously demented bunch of people who own seriously nice cars they treat with complete disdain. They hurl them about country roads!” Right. And you don’t? He grins. This car’s meant to be driven — hard. And clearly he’s up to the challenge.
Specifications
Engine: straight six
Capacity: 3781cc
Valves: dohc
Compression ratio: 9.0:1
Max power: 186kW (250bhp)
Max torque: 352Nm (260lb/ft) @ 4000rpm
Transmission: four speed all synchromesh manual
Body: steel with aluminium bonnet, boot, doors; period race screens
Suspension: Front: independent torsion bar with telescopic shockers; Rear: rigid with leaf springs and Armstrong lever shockers
Brakes: disc
Wheels: 15-inch, 72-spoke wire wheels
Tyres: 185-15 Avon radials
DIMENSIONS
Overall Length: 4394mm (14ft 5ins)
Width: 1575mm (5ft 2ins)
Height: 1117mm (3ft 8ins)
Wheelbase: 2591mm (8ft 6ins)
Front track: 1300mm (4ft 3ins)
Rear track: 1270mm (4ft 2ins)
Dry weight: 1270kg (1ton 5cwt)
PERFORMANCE
0-100kph: 7.2 sec
0-60kph: 7.2 sec
Max speed: 7.1 sec
Fuel economy: 14.1l/100km (20mpg)
