NZ Classic Car takes an exclusive tour around the Bentley factory

However, by sheer luck that’s what happened when I visited Bentley’s UK factory at Crewe, straight after the Mulsanne’s debut at California’s Pebble Beach Concours D’Elegance.
The reveal in California had been strictly controlled, with the cabin and engine detail under wraps until the Frankfurt Motor Show, smack on NZCC’s deadline.

But it was the car’s skin that was the main event at Crewe, for my lunch date was with Raul Pires, Bentley’s head of exterior design.

Classic Profile

Barely 40, the Brazilian-born designer is already responsible for the successful Continental GT — but that was a clean-sheet design. Replacing the Arnage was a whole new ballgame, with references to history as necessary as modern touches.

“We tried to capture the best of the high-tech world along with the coach-built and bespoke aura,” Pires says, explaining that Bentley customers now expect all the gadgets and the history, too. They also expect a massive car that oozes gravitas.

Pires began with an all-new platform featuring a wheelbase extended 150mm, penning the classic profile atop it with its short front, long wheelbase and extended rear overhang.

The car before me is clearly a Bentley flagship, albeit one crafted in fibreglass. For this is a final design model, not the finished car, and I’m forbidden to photograph it though it’s virtually identical to the production version.

But it’s far from identical to its predecessor. Not even the door handles carry over.

Before lifting his pen, Pires began by researching Bentley’s bloodlines. The company cites the 1930s 8-litre as the template — the largest Bentley until the brand’s purchase by Rolls-Royce and deliberately designed as the company’s hero car.

But the features Pires identifies as this car’s genetic signature are the traditional grille, with its high shoulders, and the round lights. Pires particularly liked the drama of the S-Type and the 45-degree angle of the R’s two lights, both afloat in a single piece of gleaming metal like cabochon stones set in gold.

Those were the start-point for a complex rearward flow of creases and curves that mould the car, and impart interest to its visual mass.

Team Players

Bentley can explore a few boundaries precisely because these cars are expensive, and its in-house culture with design-to-build all on the premises gives its designers and engineers enviable freedom.

Pires is thankful that those departments can work closely together. Having penned that complicated surface he had a conflab with the spannermen, who went away and developed a new process to make it, warming a single sheet of aluminium then using a vacuum to suck it onto the tool.

Pires wanted simple elegance, which meant avoiding shut-lines and panel gaps. The roof flows down the rear pillars into those massive shoulders and onward, the rear screen apparently set into a sheet of metal. A sheet created by seamlessly brazing together three pieces — no wonder each car will take nine weeks to create.

The design is extraordinarily effective in the flesh, and hard to describe. There’s an impressive mass to it, within which the detail suggests a parting of the air.

Pires says aerodynamic efficiency was one aim; “Playing with angles helped us with detaching air around the C-pillar,” he says, “and the subtle uplift on the boot edge is like a gurney flap.” Naturally this car wouldn’t have anything as pedestrian as a rear wing.

It is full of engineering puzzles, though. The Mulsanne had to have keyless entry. Yet the traditional solid metal door handles wouldn’t allow the sensors to read through them.

Another poser for the factory boys — another solution, though they gloss over the mechanism — the Mulsanne has solid stainless steel handles, with the traditional knurled rear caressing your fingertips and reflected in the car’s flank; with keyless entry sensors subtly incorporated.

Getting such detail right is important, because — “Entering a Bentley is like walking into a manor house — the door is the welcome.”

It’s clear Pires enjoys his work, a flourish outlining the ovals within the LED rear lights, a series of widening ellipses that ends in the broad ovoids of the twin rear pipes.

“It helps that we have a chairman who loves cars – if you work with someone like that, it helps to get ideas and challenges through,” Pires says.

Power and Passion

Should Bentley have developed an all-new engine for this mighty car? I think not. The 6.75-litre V8 is the ultimate grandpa’s axe — history, power, and now sufficient modernity to hold its own, and to run on E85 ethanol as easily as it fires on petrol. That’s just one step in Bentley’s efforts to improve its oil well to wheel well statistics, without compromising performance.

So, there’s still plentiful torque and relaxed delivery from a considerably re-engineered base, which now introduces cam phasing and variable displacement. Four of the eight cylinders cut off when cruising to reduce fuel use, with efficiency further improved via lightweight materials for the likes of the pistons, con rods and crankshaft.

The result is 377kW and an eye-watering 1020Nm, delivered to the massive rear wheels from a low 1800rpm through an eight-speed auto transmission with (whisper it) a steering wheel-mounted gearshift.

Ride comfort is guaranteed of course, with the brand-spanking chassis linked to a new dynamic control system with Bentley, Sport and Comfort modes. The driver can also select ‘custom’ and input his or her own settings, linked to the continuously variable air suspension system that even adapts ride height to speed.

The cabin delivers further new-fangled electronics. The multi-media entertainment system has a 40GB hard drive; there’s a 14-speaker audio system as standard; and a ‘Naim for Bentley’  system option that features a 2200W in-car amp and 20 speakers.

Half the build process — over 170 hours — goes into the interior alone, with even more wood and traditionally-tanned leather than before, now embellished with modern touches such as the glass switches.

Time-intensive

Clearly, Bentley hasn’t streamlined the production process. It can make the Mulsanne because it held onto its skilled staff during the worst of the recession. Everyone from the tea lady up took a 10 per cent pay cut, so none of these experienced craftspeople were laid off, fortunately given that for some, Bentley is their whole life.

Dave — in the woodshop — said his parents met while working here. He first encountered his wife here, and so did Noel on steering wheels.

Each of those steering wheels can take 15 hours or more to stitch. Men with gentle hands and trimming scissors lay leather onto dash frames. Others examine wood in the carpentry shop; it takes two weeks to go from root ball to polished veneer dash.

Even the more automated processes are labour intensive at Bentley, with hands-on green-clad employees at every stage, from engine-building to wiring looms and beyond.

It’s a bewildering sight for few cars are identical, and beyond the virtually infinite array of ‘standard’ choices comes the Mulsanne bespoke service — my eye being caught by a matte charcoal Supersport.

Speed Demon

Bentley certainly does things differently, for the 463kW/800Nm Supersport wasn’t planned. Pires says the engineers were playing about with the Continental GT motor and with weight saving and other tech, came up with a hot drive-train that seemed too good to ignore, especially given Bentley’s sporting heritage.

It got the go-ahead, but needed  a face-lift — if nothing else, to accommodate the larger rear wheels.

Was it annoying to have to alter his GT design? “No!” And again Pires is fired with enthusiasm. “Most people here are car nuts, and this is an exciting product to have, with no holds barred.”

He was given a short drive to get the feel of it — “It just sounds unbelievable” — then got going.

Other bespoke alterations include a new front bumper, for the greater cooling requirement and wider rear wheel arches. Wheels and trim feature black ‘brightwork’ developed from the jewellery industry. The seats are removed, the fronts replaced by snug sport buckets (in a size to suit the buyer) backed by a side-to-side brace, the rear seat become a luggage bench.

It’s effective, but subtle — “We didn’t want the car to look like a DTM racer, so even the aerodynamic spoiler is accommodated in the bottom of the rear window.”

You get the impression this car was built by a bunch of petrolheads having fun, and the result is 150kg lighter than the standard car, with a more even front-to-rear weight balance.

Did I drive one? Regrettably, no! The Supersport press car was elsewhere, the Mulsanne was still under guard prior to its Frankfurt reveal. My chance may come when the cars arrive here, with the $475,000 Supersport due from the end of January — order books are open now.

As for the Mulsanne, you can already pay your deposit, with first deliveries by late 2010 at a similar price to the outgoing Arnage.

Words and Photos: Jacqui Madelin

Woolf Barnato’s train racing exploits in the Blue Train Bentley have become part of motoring mythology, but is it true? Eoin tells the story

Agatha Christie could have created the plot — it was one of those myths of Bentleydom that has become history. Or at least, it was history until a Bentley historian uncovered the uncomfortable fact that the famous ‘Blue Train’ Bentley had not been built until 10 weeks after Woolf Barnato’s famous race across France, following a bet with a friend that he could drive home faster than he could make the trip back to London by Le Train Bleu. To be more specific, the bet was that Barnato could beat the train from Cannes to Calais. We speak now of France in the late ’20s, long before autoroutes had been imagined, when motoring was by tree-lined N-roads and driving from Paris to Nice was an adventure to be enjoyed as part of a Grand Tour, rather than a modern grind across the country locked in traffic vexation. The Blue Train was then the last word in luxury and the fastest means of getting from the Riviera to Calais, crossing the English Channel to Dover, and thence to London and Victoria Station.

The Bentley that would be known to generations of Bentley lovers as The Blue Train car was a rakish fastback coupe by Gurney Nutting, a 2+1 with the rear passenger sitting sideways, so steep was the fall of the roofline that there was zero headroom for normal rear seating. There was also the veiled suggestion that the sideways rear passenger seat gave wealthy playboy sportsman Barnato easier access to lady friends. Ken Purdy describes a similar body-style on a Bugatti in his Book of Automobiles: “The Paris firm Million-Guiet built bodies for Types 46 and 50 Bugattis that might have been called menage a trois coupes: they carried three people, the driver and one passenger in front, the other passenger sitting sideways in the rear, with a splendid view out the slot-like rear window and a big triangular cushion on which to rest her feet¦”

Barnato owned the Bentley company, more probably buying it as a favour, and bailing out his old friend and mentor WO Bentley in 1925 to guarantee a supply of the splendid Bentley cars he would race at Brooklands and Le Mans, where he shared the winning car in 1928, 1929 and 1930.

There was no suggestion that the famous coupe was falsely titled to increase its value, more probably that Barnato had never bothered to identify which of his Speed Six Bentleys he had been driving on the Riviera that summer. The Gurney Nutting fastback more or less assumed the title as the story grew in the telling, and Terence Cuneo’s famous painting of the fastback Bentley running hard alongside the speeding French locomotive added further title to the legend and the identity the special Bentley was assuming. There were those who pointed out that the car had never been in sight of the train at any point on the day of the wager, but that was put down to Cuneo’s artistic licence as much as his tiny trademark mouse scuttling along in front of the car.

Breaking the myth

Michel Hay was the Bentley historian who was asked to research the Blue Train car by its present owner, Bruce McCaw of Seattle. In 2002 Hay would write in the Bentley Drivers’ Club Review that “my jaw hit the ground” when he realised he had uncovered a fact that would prove to be a severe dent in Bentley folklore. He found that the chassis for what would be accepted as The Blue Train coupe was not finally tested off the Bentley line until two and a half months after Barnato had won his bet and beaten the Blue Train across France.

Not that Barnato had bothered to deceive. He wrote an article on the run in the BDC Review in 1946 referring to “my Speed Six saloon” which might have caused alarm bells to ring, and the same article makes passing reference to the fact that he had cans of fuel in the boot and was worried about tyre damage because he had only one spare wheel. The Gurney Nutting fastback has two very visible side-mounted spares and no boot. Barnato was simply referring to the Speed Six he was using at the time. It only seems in retrospect that the Blue Train run has gathered its own mystique. At the time he passed it off, saying, “Any woman could have done the same thing without discomfort.”

Once a car has assumed a reputation for whatever reason, the reputation only grows, helped no doubt from the fact that this one was restored by venerable Bentley Drivers’ Club president, Hugh Harben, in the mid-’60s and owned by him until 1981. Mentioning the Harben aura, I recall partnering Murray Smith on a vintage Monte Carlo Rally down through France in the ex-Harben Bentley 3/4½-litre, and there being some muttering by a group of Swiss Bentley folk in their white overalls with winged-B badges, one morning as the Bentley sat burbling and warming-up before the start of the day’s run. It seemed that the cross-shafts had been removed, and this was not the done thing to Swiss eyes. I mentioned this to Smith, who asked the Swiss if they had a problem with his car. One looked suitably disdainful and asked Smith who had removed the cross-shafts, with the thinly veiled suggestion that the perpetrator had to be some sort of philistine. Smith pointed out that it had been Hugh Harben’s car, and that Hugh had carried out the modification. Then it was instantly different. “Oh it was Hugh’s car, was it? Didn’t he make a wonderful job of taking out the cross-shafts.”

An earlier owner was Charles Mortimer, Brooklands motorcycle racer and, post-war, a sports car racer, motor dealer, and latterly motoring book-dealer and a splendid raconteur. At one of our regular Barley Mow lunches in 1982, I interviewed Charles for my weekly column in Autocar, in which I said: “The Barnato Bentley ‘Blue Train’ coupe joined the Mortimer stable from the Used Car Motor Show at Islington in 1938 for the princely sum of £150, and after war had been declared in 1939 he sold it for £25 to a brave dealer who actually managed to move it on for £27.” Changed days.

Charles said, “My most outstanding impressions are still of its squatness and size, for whether or not its roofline really was much lower than standard Bentley models, it always appeared to be, both inside and out. Even compared with an 8.0-litre Bentley I owned later, the Barnato Coupe always somehow seemed larger and yet more compact than any other Speed Six. It was probably some 10mph [16kph] faster than most of its type, but I always had the impression that its designer had done a better job on the engine than with the road-holding or suspension. With fuel at the price it was in the ’30s one somehow never got around to checking consumption, but on a run of 100 miles [160km] or more it probably never did better than 14 miles to the gallon [20.2l/100km] and in traffic probably averaged around eight mpg [35.3l/100km]. Its maximum was just over 100mph but at anything over 85mph [137kph] it began to vibrate, perhaps because of a problem with the crankshaft damping. In that immediate pre-war period it would show its heels to all except out-and-out sports cars, but there were occasions on a run with not enough long straights, and a few too many bends, when determined owners of 3½-litre Jaguar saloons could make life uncomfortable — not so much through performance, I suppose, as concern for whether you could retard the Bentley’s weight in an emergency. Despite it three-figure maximum the Barnato coupe was happier cruising around 75 [121kph] than 85mph, and though it didn’t protest at being pushed to its top speed, it made sure that one knew it was doing it.” In later conversations Charles would comment that the Mini Cooper he was driving then had more interior room than the Barnato coupe.

In my memorabilia and book-dealing days in London I happened upon a set of the original sketches Terence Cuneo worked from with his big Bentley paintings — which included The Bentley and the Blue Train and Pitstop at Le Mans — and I made contact with him to ask about the background to his motoring art. He explained that he had been commissioned to do a painting of a George V locomotive and while working on it, realised the potential for the Barnato picture. He asked Hugh Harben to bring down the actual Barnato fastback to the railway yard and he used the George V loco as a model for the Blue Train at full steam. I noted that in the Blue Train painting Cuneo’s little mouse is legging it out in front of the speeding Bentley.

Late-night boast

Sixty years ago, Barnato had been prevailed upon to write about his Blue Train run in Bentley Driver’s Club Review and in the June 1946 issue he wrote about the way reminiscences of races — “one had been fortunate enough to have won” — spoke so strongly of self-eulogy, but he was prepared to put on record his race against the Blue Train, “an ‘unoffiocial’ run I made, and one for which I received no mead whatsoever [in fact it caused Bentleys to be barred from the 1930 Paris Motor Salon] will always remain in my mind as the most interesting.”

Two other motor car firms had beaten the Blue Train to Calais and advertised the fact, but Barnato was dismissive of these claims. “Now as the Train Bleu goes via Marseilles, where it stops for about an hour, and thence to Paris, where it wastes another 3½-hours going from the Gare d’Orleans to the Gare du Nord, I contended the achievements advertised did not deserve much merit, and to back my contention, I wagered I could get to England in my Saloon Speed Six before the train got to Calais. My proffered wager was laughed off as a late-night boast, so I said, all right, we’ll have ‘no bet’ but I say I shall do it, just to prove my contention that beating the Blue Train deserves little merit. Not only did I complete the mission but I actually reached London in my car before the Blue Train got to Calais.

“I admit that when I made my assertion about getting to England before the train got to Calais, I made no stipulation as to which route I should take, and the point never arose in the argument. This is how it was done — I had one passenger, as spare driver, to take over if I got sleepy, the late Mr Dale Bourn, the well-known amateur golfer. We waited in the Carlton Bar, Cannes, until we got word from the station that the train had left (5.54pm), we finished our drinks and left.” Mr Barnato definitely sounds like my sort of chap.

“At Aix-en-Provence we topped up with petrol (100 miles). Knowing how difficult it is to get ‘gas’ at night in France, I had already arranged for a garage pump I knew at Lyons to remain open till after midnight, and for a petrol lorry to be at Auxerre at 4am. I arrived at the pump in Lyons at one minute to midnight (nicely up to schedule). From Lyons onwards it poured with rain which put us a bit behind schedule, so that we didn’t get to Auxerre till 4.20am and then had difficulty in locating the petrol lorry which had gone into town instead of staying on the bypass. After Auxerre, on the high ground, we ran into the cloud front that had been dealing out the rain. The result of which was we were three-quarters of an hour behind schedule getting to Paris. Soon after leaving Paris I burst a tyre, and as I only had one spare wheel I had to take it easy as another blow-out would have meant I’d had it. Happy to relate no other untoward incident took place from there onwards, and I pulled on to the quai at Boulogne at 10.30am.

“The Boulogne-Folkstone boat used to leave at 11.30 so that it gave the RAC the requisite hour they require for a car to be at the port before sailing, and ourselves good time to have an excellent breakfast in the station buffet. In fact, my car was the first on and, therefore, the first off at Folkestone. A pleasant one hour, 20 minutes’ sea trip, no trouble at the Customs, and super-efficient service by the RAC on the triptique business (word seemed to have preceded us that we were to be given priority), and we were away again before the train left Folkestone for London. We cruised slowly to London Town, for after all, the mission of getting to England first had already been completed and we saw no reason to hurry, especially in view of the fact that I now had no spare wheel.

“On getting to London I noticed the clock at Victoria on the Vauxhall Bridge Road signified the time as 3.20pm. I said to Dale, “Do you know we’ve got to London before the train has got to Calais.” (The train reaches Calais at 3.24pm.) So to confirm this we clocked in at Bourne’s Club, the Conservative in St. James’ Street. Then I thought we ought to register our arrival with the RAC. The news of our successful run had apparently already preceded us, for the hall porter was waiting with the time clock message-stamping machine to mark our cards.

“An interesting sidelight on the story is that in case the petrol pump at Lyons was closed, or the petrol lorry at Auxerre did not turn up, I’d filled the boot with bidons of petrol, the result of which was that I had so much tail weight that I couldn’t do more than 80mph [129kph] without the springs bottoming. I spite of this, the average from Canes to Boulogne was just over 45mph [72kph]. It only goes to show what a high average over a long distance can be maintained by not stopping for refreshments!

“I drove the whole distance, with the exception of the last two hours to Paris, my eyes needing a rest on account of the fog, rain and windscreen wiper.

“It was unfortunate that Bentleys were barred from the Paris Salon of 1930 for this escapade, on the grounds that we’d advertised an unofficial trial, although we put no advertisement in at all; naturally the Press got hold of the story and wrote it up. As I was then chairman of Bentley, this was considered advertising, when in reality the whole thing was done to show that there was no great merit in beating the Blue Train.”

75th anniversary

Seventy-five years after Barnato’s trip across France, in October 2005, Bentley Motors and Mulliner celebrated the event with a limited edition version of the twin-turbocharged 6.75-litre four-door saloon to be known as the Arnage Blue Train Series. Top speed is 270kph. A special plaque inside records the Barnato achievement with other special reminders as noted in the official press release: “In homage to the slatted bonnet of the original ‘Blue Train’ Bentley Speed Six, Bentley’s design team has specified vertical slatted vents, painted in body colour, behind the trailing edge of the front wheel arches. The Blue Train Arnage will carry the black-winged ‘B’ inside and out as the distinguishing mark of the most powerful and performance-focused Bentleys, and will also have Blue Train badging on the front wing and door aperture tread-plates.”

It was fitting that Bruce McCaw and his wife Jolene were invited to France with their brace of Blue Train Bentleys for the commemorative run up from the Cote d’Azure on a 75th anniversary tour from Cannes to London. McCaw is a wealthy enthusiast with an impressive personal collection of cars in Seattle, and it was McCaw who received the telephone message from Bentley historian Michael Hay, saying, “Are you sitting down? Because your car isn’t the Blue Train¦” The so-called Blue Train fastback is chassis HM2855 and Hay’s research points to the fact that the actual car Barnato drove across France that night is chassis BA2592. McCaw did the decent thing and bought that car as well, to avoid future problems of identity.

Let Bruce McCaw have the last word on the legend in an email he sent in reply to my questions: “Initially I was of course surprised when the information was received,” McCaw writes. “I decided the first thing to do was locate the other car and then worry about it. We were fortunate that we were able to locate body and chassis (with engine), and with the help of Peter Hageman and Richard Moss, acquire and complete the other Speed Six. Then we had to figure out how to tell the world. At the time I observed that there would now be two Blue Trains, the one the world knew and the ‘other’ one.

Michael Hay didn’t agree with me and thought the mantle would simply transfer, but I think I was right. Even after unveiling both cars at Pebble Beach and putting the whole story in the programme, it was as though no on really cared to alter the lore. The mystique continues, and in spite of some of the information that has surfaced, the questions linger as to which car it really was. Barnato lived for many years after [He died in 1948] and little information surfaced during that time to contradict the coupe legend. His daughter Diana Barnato Walker (a fabulous person — fascinating and accomplished in her own right) remains emphatic that it was the coupe that Barnato drove.

“Having recently completed the 75th anniversary drive we have proven that both cars were quite capable of the run. More importantly, I now fully appreciate Woolf’s extraordinary accomplishment both in his era and even by the standards of today. That was a fabulous and challenging drive, and I am reminded of how great these cars were and still are. Whatever the truth may be, the ‘Blue Trains’ seem quite content with themselves in sharing history and happy to be stablemates once again after all these years. While the stunning Gurney Nutting coupe will always bask in the spotlight of attention that its role as perhaps the first GT supercar seems to command, the Mulliner saloon carries its conservative elegance well with the quiet confidence that it can indeed still run alongside its stylish sibling.”

Words: Eoin Young

This article is from Classic Car issue 190. Click here to check it out.

NZCC reader, Malcolm Graham, tells us how he came ¨to own a Bentley Turbo R

For many years I made a living screen-printing T-shirts and a good many of my customers were motor vehicle enthusiasts in the Christchurch area. This suited me just fine because I loved cars even before being turfed out of the local Holden dealer’s showroom when, as a 10-year-old in 1968, I climbed into the driver’s seat of a brand new Monaro doing the rounds on the turntable.

Although I’ve always owned unspectacular practical cars, I’d been involved in hobby cars of all sorts in a peripheral sense all my life and I wanted to own one. But what to buy? I loved them all — hot rods, vintage, classics, customs, new ones, old ones, big ones, small ones, sports cars, wagons and racers. I loved the lot so it was hard to decide.

For years not buying anything was easy — I didn’t have ¨any money.

Towards a Decision

When I first met NZCC columnist Trevor Stanley-Joblin, he was in the process of turning a trailer load of expensive rubbish into a 1936 Ford Roadster. Well, that’s what it was supposed to be, but by the time he finished with it, Trevor’s Ford was way better than it had been when Henry built it. At the time it was regarded as over-restored — but Trevor was just ahead of his time.

These days ‘perfect’ is the standard.

I had many long conversations with Trevor (I don’t think there’s such a thing as a short one) — which he may not remember — but the gist of some of his comments about’ 36 Fords was that they go like hell; you haven’t got a hope of stopping; if you want to negotiate a corner you should wedge yourself between the end of the seat and the bodywork to avoid sliding clear across the other side; and that the course of the car could be influenced but not necessarily predicted!

The long and the short of it was that Trevor’s roadster looked fantastic driving along the road, but driving it wasn’t particularly enjoyable. I took from this that, before choosing a hobby car, I should limit myself to the ones that are a pleasure to drive, as well as ride in.

The Rolls-Royce Option

A good few years of my early working life were spent working for Motor Corp in Christchurch, agent for Rolls-Royce and Bentley along with British Leyland’s finest and, eventually, Honda.

Occasionally a Rolls-Royce or Bentley would appear in the workshop for servicing, and I admired every one of them never, for a moment, dreaming I’d ever own one.

Years passed and one day I noticed that the asking price of Silver Shadows was becoming affordable so I started to take some interest. The first one I looked at had been resprayed white (for wedding work, presumably) — apparently by a drunken octopus using a garden hose. I walked round it once and never broke my step getting back to my car. Even had the paint been perfect it was still overpriced.

I spoke to the local Rolls-Royce/Bentley club secretary, who recommended a particularly nice example in Timaru that might be for sale. I met up with the owner at Bruce McIlroy’s establishment in Ashburton and knew I was going to own the car as soon as I saw it. It was merely a matter of sorting out the details — price, conditions of sale, timing and, of course, telling my wife, Ann.

I knew it’d be easy once I got her behind the wheel. I knew too, that once there I’d never get her out of it. The hard part was in convincing her we needed to take a 320km round trip to seal the bargain.

A deal was sorted out over a cuppa and then, after a suitable pause to admire our purchase, it was time to head for home in our Nissan-powered Commodore. We both looked at each other in horror as the air was rent with a horrible screeching, grinding noise as the Commodore turned over and fired. We instantly realised the car wasn’t actually about to spill its guts all over the driveway. It always sounds like this. Our couple of hours in a properly maintained Shadow had just spoiled us.

Lotto Winner?

We had so much fun in the Shadow. I was awaiting my order in a fish shop one day, watching an elderly couple taking their time going round the car pointing out this and that to each other, being careful not to actually touch it. They were still there as I went to go and the gentleman made a complimentary remark, so I asked if they’d like to take a ride round the block. You’d think I’d told them they’d just won Lotto. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone so excited and happy.

On my way to work one day, I passed a security shop with a huge sign in the window advertising two keys cut for the price of one. I only needed one but I guess I must be the perfect consumer. I was driving my old Falcon panel van but happened to have the Shadow’s key. As I entered the shop I noticed two staff — a young chap clearly busy on the phone and an older woman doing her nails. She looked up, took one look at me in my work clothes and carried on with her nails. The guy finished his call and came over. After comparing my sample with his wall of blanks he asked me what it fitted.

“Rolls-Royce.” I said. The manicure was instantly forgotten and the woman materialised in front of me full of sudden interest.

Then there was the time Ann and I were out for dinner in a flash pub. I’d left the car in the hotel’s portico — feeling sure that management wouldn’t mind the place looking classy.

During our meal three men entered the room looking a little out of place in their rather informal attire. One was middle-aged, wearing his hair in a pony tail halfway down his back and clad in a black Harley T-shirt. They took the table next to us and my wife leaned over and asked him whether he actually had a Harley or did he just like them. Apparently he’d been riding Harleys for 25 years and was no great lover of pretenders.

We all got on very well. It turned out that the men were Australian, in town to disassemble a huge wool press that had been sold to their homeland. All they’d seen of Christchurch was the airport, the hotel, their worksite and taxi rides between. We offered them an after dinner sightseeing tour which was accepted — conveniently neglecting to burden them with the knowledge of the intended mode of transport.

As we finished our meal before they did, Ann and I paused in the comfy seats in the bar to wait for them. Soon two of them arrived, the third having found the prospect of an early night more attractive. As we walked outside, one joked — “We’ll take the Rolls will we?” I’d been about to drop a similar joke but that made me forget completely what I’d been about to say. It was superfluous now anyway.

“Yes, I thought we would as a matter of fact.” I unlocked the car to total silence.

About 10 minutes later Mr Harley (who’d earlier invited us to stay next time we visit Brisbane) regained his power of speech. “If you come stay at my place, I won’t be carting you round in no Rolls-Royce, that’s for sure!”

Even being stopped by the police was fun. I was once pulled over at a checkpoint concentrating on Warrants of Fitness.

“Suppose this has a warrant, has it?” Honestly, I never said a word. I just turned my head a little, raised my eyebrows and let my mouth fall open. I’m sure the officer’s face coloured a little as he said “Oh! Thought so, on your way driver.”

We had a fantastic five years with that car. I’d never intended to sell it but after I sold my business, Ann and I agreed that, using my right to a four year UK work permit (through having had a grandparent born there) and her universally marketable skills, going to see some of the world was a more attractive option than getting a job and settling back into the same old rut for another 30 years.

We could have a sort of working holiday — she could work and I could holiday. As you can imagine, that suggestion didn’t go down that brilliantly.

We were going to be away for an indefinite time so the Shadow had to be passed on to somebody else to enjoy and look after. I would have liked to have kept it, but these cars punish anyone who locks them up and leaves unused as they are hellish expensive to re-commission. They like to be used.

I never again saw a similar car in as good condition as my Shadow. I thought better ones would be everywhere in UK but, armed with 20/20 hindsight, I now realise that I would have got a way better price for it if I’d taken it over there with me.

The Bentley Option

Right from the moment we stepped off the plane at Heathrow, unemployed and homeless, I had in mind a bit of a list of things I wanted to take home with me, one of which was a Bentley Turbo-R.

First we had other priorities — we had to find jobs, somewhere to live, do tourist stuff and save some money. Nothing too major.

Before I even started looking for ‘my’ Turbo-R, I took all reasonable steps to make sure that getting my purchase back to NZ would be as painless as possible. This included contacting Byron Martin at the NZ Bentley importer, Independent Prestige, in Auckland. He was rather surprised, but pleased, to be consulted before purchase rather than after. He told me that any Turbo-R I intended to import would need to be fitted with driver and passenger airbags and a high level stop light — which meant a 1994 model onwards to have these items factory fitted. That also meant a big budget blow out. Bugger!

Byron also issues all Statements of Compliance for Bentleys being imported to NZ.

I tried to save some money by attempting to buy my compliance certificate through a UK Bentley dealer, or direct from the Crewe factory, in order to save costs. Eventually, though, I had to bite the bullet and pay up. Bentley’s staff and dealers were very helpful, very sympathetic and apologetic but there exists a contract between Bentley Motors and its NZ agent covering this sort of thing and it wasn’t going to be broken — for me or anybody.

To comply with NZ government red tape we had to own the car (and have it available for everyday use) for at least a year before shipping it back home. This was no real hardship because it gave us the opportunity to properly participate in as many Rolls-Royce Enthusiasts’ Club and Bentley Drivers’ Club events as we could squeeze in.

In England, of course, this includes visits to famous factories, Goodwood, the holy of holies at Crewe, a row of old sheds in the Malvern Hills where Morgans are born, sundry stately homes and opportunities to drive in places we had only read about and seen on TV.

Naturally, this delay gave our wonderful government time to think up a way of making things even more difficult. If Bruce McIlroy hadn’t emailed us to advise us of the imminent introduction of new laws relating to emission standards of imported, second-hand vehicles we might well have sent our car over six months too late. I shudder to think what would have happened then.

On so many levels I’m so pleased that I consulted Bruce to discuss this vehicle or that, during the shopping process.

He even found time to drop in and take a look over the car for me during a rush trip through England after completing on the Peking-Paris Rally. The advice he gave us then was useful, reassuring and very much appreciated. How many mechanics are prepared to make house calls to the other side of the planet?

Bruce also recommended CARS (Classic Automobile Relocation Services) to ship the car home. We’d got quite a few quotes and CARS wasn’t the cheapest, but it came highly recommended. That was good enough for us — although the sight of an allegedly brand new Morgan that had gone down aboard the good ship Napoli made sure we took no chances with insurance cover.

Jaine Cunnighame of MGL Ltd looked after all the government red tape at the New Zealand end. Customs, MAF, VINZ and LTSA all showed an interest and all had to be appeased before my pride and joy could be put on the road. However, between Jaine and Bruce all was sorted with the minimum of fuss — at least it seemed that way from where we were, still on the other side of the planet. I’m sure in a more ‘hands-on’ role, I would have found all the government red tape rather daunting but, while there was a cost involved, having professionals look after it for us made it easy and was worth every cent.

The Turbo-R in New Zealand

I’d decided to buy a car in UK and ship it home because at any given moment there was more choice available within two miles of our UK home than in all of New Zealand, so it was ironic to find that Bruce McIlroy was offering a very similar car (younger and lower mileage) for about the same money I’d spent to get mine parked beside his in the same shed. Bugger! I thought about trading mine in but, unfortunately, I have to own it here for two years before the government loses interest in it and will allow me to sell the car.

The 1996 Brooklands photographed with my car is two years newer and, at 74,300 miles (119,090km), has covered 17,000 less that my Turbo-R. The paint is Red Pearl, the same as mine, and the Sandstone hide upholstery is also the same — although the Brooklands has the seat piping in red, which I prefer. Most of the original owners of these cars specified contrasting piping but mine is the same colour as the seats.

Both cars have the same Cherry Red carpets. The Brooklands is fitted with highly figured burr walnut veneer and has a recent service history with Bruce McIlroy Ltd — the South Island’s official Bentley Motors service agent. There are other differences between the two cars too, but these are limited to improvements to the specification between 1994 and 1996. Spot the most differences and you will get a warm fuzzy feeling inside.

‘Blown’ Bentley

During the ’60s and ’70s, Bentleys became little more than badge engineered Rolls-Royces and the number of ‘Bentleys’ sold slowed to such a pitiful trickle that Bentley, as a marque, came very close to extinction. In the early ’80s the decision was made to revitalise Bentley sales by differentiating it from Rolls-Royce.

Initially, they did this by turbocharging the Mulsanne, Bentley’s version of the Silver Spirit. The stellar performance improvement was very popular, but the chassis dynamics just weren’t up to enhanced power levels. The Turbo showed an improvement in the handling and the Turbo-R went further — the ‘R’ being to the Bentley Turbo what ‘HO’ is to the Falcon GT, standing for ‘roadholding.’

The result was that the Silver Spirit (and the longer wheelbase Silver Spur) were for people who wanted supreme luxury above all else, while the Bentley was for those prepared to sacrifice some ride comfort for improved high speed handling.

In a Rolls-Royce you can drive over a 4×2 and not know about it whereas in a Bentley, if you drive over a coin¦ I guess you know the rest.

The ultimate progression of the SZ series Bentleys was the Brooklands. This came about because Bentley drivers liked the chassis dynamics of the Turbo-R but found they really didn’t need the ultimate performance available with the turbocharger — not in the real world, anyway.

Wonderful Memories

I’m getting over the disappointment of having gone through all the hassles (and expenses) of importing the Turbo-R when I could have simply flown home and written a cheque for the Brooklands, because we’ve had some wonderful memories driving the Bentley in UK. My loss could be your gain, as Bruce McIlroy Ltd is offering the Brooklands for sale. The $65,000 might seem like a lot of money but you can easily spend that in a Holden or Ford showroom — and what’s that car worth in five years time? A Brooklands is capable of similar fuel consumption to a V8 Falcon or Commodore, but with way more presence.

Want to buy it and do weddings? Give me a call. Prefer the look of my colour-keyed grille? Bruce will change that in a heartbeat. Buy it soon. In the unlikely event that it’s still there in 14 months when the government loses interest in my Turbo-R, I might look at it myself.

You can look forward to the fun owning a car like this brings.

“Had anything to drink this evening, sir?”

“I’ve had a glass of wine with my dinner, yes.”

“Have a good evening, sir,” The pretty policewoman says with a laugh, and I wish I was 25 years younger. Yes, she was certainly attractive — but nowhere near as pretty as my wife!

Words: Malcolm Graham Photos: Sean Craig and Malcolm Graham

An offer to road-test a new Bentley Flying Spur provided an appropriate chance to consider Bentley’s original Flying Spur

The name Flying Spur was coined by HJ Mulliner, the coach builder which built the first Flying Spur variations on Bentley’s Continental in the mid ’50s.

HT Johnstone, managing director of Mulliner, found that customers were wanting a four-door version of the two-door Continental coupe. When you look at them it’s not surprising; these are hugely roomy cars which actually need a few more doors. Mulliner’s resultant four-door design was stunningly elegant yet this was still a lightweight car — especially when you considered its overall size.

In 1957 the first and ultimately most numerous of the four-door Continentals appeared. This was the ‘six-light’ Flying Spur by HJ Mulliner. Bentley gave Mulliner permission to continue with this style and it would hold good until the last, the S3, Continentals. By which time Mulliner had bought out Park Ward and, in turn, was subsequently bought out by Rolls-Royce.

Why the Name?

HT Johnston had persuaded Dr Llewellyn Smith, another of the Bentley bosses, about the merits of the four-door body and urged the name ‘Flying Spur.’ It appears to have been a personal matter because a Flying Spur features on the heraldic arms of the Scottish Johnston clan, which was awarded this distinction for its part in helping Bonnie Prince Charlie escape the English.

The Flying Spur’s mascot is a pair of beautifully crafted bird wings, with an unrecognisable protuberance sporting a small wheel between them. I’ve read that HT Johnston had this mascot mounted on the radiator of the prototype Flying Spur saloon, instead of the traditional winged B. Interestingly, with the purchase of Mulliner in 1959 by Rolls-Royce, this is now a registered trademark of Bentley Motors, having been first registered by Rolls-Royce.

Brief history

I’ve read a great deal of material about Bentley Continental production runs, and about the several coach builders responsible for four-door variations on the theme. It’s a complex field and, I suspect, mostly — if not entirely — only of interest to true Bentley fanatics. So, herewith my potted version of the Flying Spur cars. That original Flying Spur, one of 11 variations of four-door sporting saloon produced between 1957 and 1965 based on the S Series Continental chassis. The earlier 1954 R Type Continental was introduced in one body style only, the fastback coupe from HJ Mulliner. I’ve read that some have said it was based on the 1949 Cadillac coupe, which it was said to strongly resemble except for the radiator area. This allegation has been denied, of course. Since I’ve not been able to find any pictures of that car I’ve no idea how valid the contention is. However, I do take the view that there’s no reason why one successful design shouldn’t influence — if unwittingly — others.

All the Flying Spurs were quite different from the standard saloons. The lower, sleeker bodywork was more aerodynamically efficient and made entirely of aluminium, so it was a great deal lighter and hence the term ‘light weight’. The R Type and S1 Continentals had higher compression, higher gearing and different tyres, not to mention various other tweaks that made them quite a bit faster than the standard saloons.

Past: 1965 Flying Spur

Our example is a very beautiful and imposing motor car — a 1965 Series 3, and the 78th car of a total run of only 86 built using the E Series chassis. Its current owner is an Auckland businessman, Joseph Roberts, who brought this car in from California several years ago. I say ‘current owner’ because that’s the way it is with these great classics — we humans pass on, and really it’s the great works of art that collect the collectors — turning the tables on us?

Behind the imposing Bentley grille there is a long, classically British sweeping bonnet indicating the car’s noble lineage. But for me the styling feature that sets this car apart is the gradually disappearing swage line midway on each side which matches the downward curve of the windows. All being neatly gathered in by the curved bosom-like swelling, leading the rear guard on each side. Everything is in perfect proportion. The boot is big enough to use as a hearse. Clearly this reworked body needed four doors! There’s so much room available it would be ridiculous clambering through the front doors to occupy the rear.

On The Road

This is a very big car, yet easily able to reach 188kph. It obeys the expectations that WO Bentley had of the cars bearing his name — speed, reliability and quietness. As soon as I turned the key and grasped the wheel I knew that I was in something with real class. As much as anything it was the magnificent walnut dash behind the enormous, yet elegantly slim steering wheel backed by superb power steering. Moving off from rest was an ultra smooth, if nervous, experience. Nervous because I didn’t feel in charge — the car was. All four corners are out of sight. I drove through Auckland’s CBD and onto the Northern Motorway. Everything worked perfectly like a modern car, but whilst a modern car is characterless, I felt totally conscious of every aspect of this car and aware that it’s an imposing vehicle to everybody on the road, and that includes the driver. It attracted heaps of attention, and being a shy, retiring type this certainly heightened my twitchiness.

The S1 Continentals were six-cylinder cars, but the S2 went on to utilise the Rolls-Royce 6230cc, alloy-block V8. Regrettably not a lot is known of this car’s history beyond the fact it was sold new in the UK, then later emigrated to the USA where it was given a very sympathetic restoration.

It’s a genuine and original car with matching numbers, proving it has a traceable provenance. The quality of the restoration astonished me — every detail in this car has been restored totally true to its pedigree. The interior is finished in Connolly leather with Wilton carpet and West of England wool headlining. But that becomes drab when you see the magnificent woodwork of the dash and doors. It’s antique furniture quality.

This car could be entered in any Concours anywhere and would do extremely well. After these cars, Rolls-Royce and Bentley went to monocoque construction. The Flying Spurs as a series was only re-introduced as a model name in 2005. As I’ve said elsewhere, the lineage of the coachbuilt Bentley Flying Spur Continentals is quite complex and, today, that story of complexity in pursuit of perfection continues with the current W12-powered Bentley Flying Spur.

Present: 2005 Bentley Continental Flying Spur

A major argument for the name Bentley Continental Flying Spur to be chosen for the new four-door model introduced in January 2005 was obviously to link it to a glorious past. When the original Bentley Continental had been launched in the early ’50s, that model’s extraordinary coachwork by HJ Mulliner had made a real impact. With the introduction of the Bentley Continental Flying Spur the name was revived. Parallel to what had been decisive in the ’50, outstanding acceleration and top speed remained undiminished. This was combined with more comfortable access to the rear compartment and, of course, generous space to accommodate rear seat passengers.

The Continental Flying Spur is a big car with big character, though not perhaps a sports saloon in the same league as the Bentley Arnage and the earlier Bentley Turbo R. It reflects Bentley management, which was more inclined to produce a sister model of the Bentley Continental GT, from which it was developed. Since introduction of the Continental GT, Bentley sales have rocketed to 6500 cars in 2004; the new Continental GT being responsible for the lion’s share. For the first time since its take-over by Volkswagen, Bentley’s books showed a profit.

Mixed pedigree

How can an engine built for the VW Phaeton and Audi A8, housed in a body built in Dresden and assembled in a Crewe factory owned by Germans, be represented as the best of British? Surprisingly well, actually. Bentley was originally based in Cricklewood, London, not Crewe, but over time we have come to accept that a Bentley can be made in Crewe. Although it may seem hard to swallow, German ownership has allowed the Bentley marque to flower. Whilst the Germans would have seemed to have been the mortal enemies of the British, the current Queen’s blood line does not need many generations to be tracked back to Germany, and Great Britain is now part of greater Europe.

The simple fact is, however much you respect the heritage, you must move with the times, just as our forefathers did.

German cash, resources and economies of scale have allowed the craftsmen at Crewe to fettle the Germans’ quality engineering to bespoke English standards. It’s been said before, but there is serene quality about British luxury car interiors that no foreign manufacturer can imitate.

It’s a sign of the times that today’s Bentley Flying Spur does not stand out in a crowd the same way as our regal ’65 masterpiece did; both in terms of the dictates of safety regulations and efficiency that ensure all modern cars fall within a certain silhouette, and the fact that it is no longer politically correct to brag openly about one’s wealth.

Whilst those of an older generation might find it hard to reconcile a Bentley with a German Volkswagen engine, I can accept that it is, indeed, a reflection of the very best the British car industry can do today, and as such the connection with the Flying Spurs of old is not spurious but a genuine link with the past.

Yet another sign of the times is that the real advances in motor car design are not being made on things that you can see, which — if you are into displaying your wealth — is dismaying.

However, under the skin, the new car’s technology is absolutely top notch. There’s a navigation system, two telephones (one personal, one linked to the car), seats that adjust 16 ways and memorise in collusion with the mirrors, temperature control and an electronic key transmitter.

The key doesn’t have to come out of an owner’s Saville Row suit-pocket or madam’s Gucci handbag — the transmitter unlocks the door as you touch the handle, and the whole show collectively moves into your desired position before you have the opportunity to park your Armani on the Connolly hide.

With the key still in your pocket, you touch the start button and the turbocharged W12 purrs into life. Your rear seat passengers have their own seat controls and air conditioning settings. And televisions to watch.

Next you can select any one of four ride and handling settings from waft to racing car. What Bentley has done exceptionally well is integrate all this amazing technology in a very simple, logical control system which cossets and helps one make the decisions, rather than freaking one out into a stress rash as do other techno-marvel cars. It is truly marvellous, and done in such a subtle way that you genuinely are buying a significantly better quality of life whilst finding ways of getting you there much quicker — discreetly — providing, of course, you have the $440,000 required to buy one.

Past and present

Interestingly enough, whilst both the ’65 car and the ’07 provide the sybaritic luxuries in life, the older car makes an unmistakeable and imposing statement about itself and is also imposing to drive. You cannot forget or accurately judge its great length. The transmission control is slow and judgemental, and whilst you know you have ample torque under your foot, the pedal gives you no idea when it is actually going to emerge. The brakes work well, but the pedal goes nearly to the floor before it happens. I thought a Rolls-Royce or Bentley should be easy to drive slowly, but the ’65 can make an unfamiliar but competent driver look like a learner.

As for sporting motoring; in deference to the owners I didn’t even try, but got the impression the old Bentley would give me the same reaction as if I had asked the Queen to jog around the park. Conversely the modern car is a doddle to drive, and so competent from standstill to speeds you will never reach legally. It is the complete motor car for (nearly) all occasions. It really can be a very sporting saloon and a restful cocoon at the same time. The ’65 says it is sporting but it simply isn’t. What it is, is a magnificent tourer with a huge boot — one thing the modern car simply cannot match.

If you want to make an entrance, take the ’65. If you want to do it discreetly, and get there early, take the ’07.

Words Penn McKay : Photos Jared Clark

Sitting in this superb classic car streaming along Auckland’s motorway, with one eye on the clock showing a little over 60mph, I reflected on our parallel histories. In 1946 I was a lad, in the Upper Sixth at that very British of schools — Christ’s College in Christchurch. So I take the view that both of us — myself and this car — entered life together, as very young adults reared to believe in our innate superiority.

In our subsequent lives this Bentley has had seven careful owners. I, on the other hand, have been raced, rallied and rolled by two serious owners — five fewer than the Bentley. However, I’ve been loaned out to casual drivers quite a few times, all of whom have been kind in their treatment of me, although all have contributed to my well-used patina. On me it all shows, on the Bentley nothing has changed. This car — chassis number B101LH, engine number B250L — was imported new into New Zealand by Henry Berisford Maunsell of Rathkeale, Masterton. Maunsell was a farmer (Rathkeale Station now being Rathkeale College) and used the car for normal everyday use until he died in 1958. A father and son then owned the car — also farmers of Masterton. In 1978 Dr Graham Cowie of Masterton — a well known General Practitioner and classic car enthusiast — bought it, and at this stage the car had completed 101,389km (63,000 miles).

Doctor Cowie only kept the car for seven months, during which period he did one or two long trips in it as far as Taranaki with no trouble. He commented it was remarkably silent, and the steering was extraordinarily light for such a large car. Dr Cowie lacked the skill to restore the car properly, so it was sold on at 104,900km (65,182 miles) to Howard John and Alan David Jones.

The car features in several sections of Dr Cowie’s book Yesterday’s Motoring. Les Jones, owner number four, was the service agent for Bentley as well as the Morris Agent in Masterton, and had been servicing the car for some time. He knew it well. Les had the car for eight years, during which time he had the upholstery and woodwork restored, small dents removed and a perfect paint job done (eight coats of primer and 17 finishing coats!).

The result of this was that in 1984 the car won the Sir Walter Norwood Trophy for the best restored Rolls-Royce or Bentley in New Zealand. It won this trophy again in 1988 and 1993 in the ownership of Alan Jones (another father-son succession).

Alan kept the car for 17 years until selling it to Arthur Moore in 2005, by which time the car had completed 138,159km (85,848 miles). Arthur Moore, whose partner was the appropriately named Sue Bentley, was the sixth owner. He thought it would be a nice idea to buy a (second) Bentley.

Love affair

The present owner is Rob Carthew who bought it at 139,553km (86,714 miles) in 2005. Like all his predecessors he has had a love affair with this superb classic, and currently the affair is on-going.

Fifty-five years on from its immigration into New Zealand, the car is essentially still original, in perfect condition and demonstrating that it is more than a little superior to most other cars on the road. On the road Rob, a specialist banker, succumbed to his baser instincts, easing his right foot down a little more and I saw the speedo needle quietly pass 70mph (113km).

Cocooned in complete silence in our leather and walnut setting, we cruised effortlessly along the busiest stretch of roading in New Zealand — as to the manner born — with me resisting the urge to gesture graciously to the drivers we were passing, until the banker in Rob took over again and we became legal.

It’s certainly been a Bentley year for me. My experiences with Bentleys of all ages have invariably been very satisfying — and that satisfaction has been with almost every aspect. Perhaps they could look a little more Italian? However, they are British so one must take the whole package — including the rather pompous styling. The fact of the matter is that I’m from Christchurch, with all that that implies, and Bentley is much more natural to me than anything from Italy. This despite my garage full of classic Alfas!

Under Rolls-Royce Ownership

All sorts of dire consequences were predicted once Rolls-Royce took over the bankrupted Bentley marque in 1931 and started producing what came to be called Derby Bentleys. That is, when they weren’t being called Rolls-Bentleys. There have always been purists (a nicer definition than some other possibilities) who expressed disparagement on the grounds that a Rolls-Bentley isn’t a true Bentley. However, I take the view that a Bentley of any kind is a hell of a good car to have if you’re looking for those original criteria as expressed by WO Bentley — silence, smoothness and reliability, not to mention solid performance.

Although the marque is claiming a Diamond Jubilee for one phase of its history, I have a difficulty in separating this period as being distinct since the products bearing the name have always been great cars, and true to the basic philosophy under which they were conceived. This argument is, of course, strengthened by the fact that the original WO Bentleys are, today, invariably very valuable indeed.

Our featured 1946 Bentley doesn’t appear to be an agile car, its styling leads you to expect dowager stateliness, but it’s a lot more easily handled under pressure than you’d expect by its looks. Although, how can you tell on the motorway, where it might look to be a geriatric rocket-ship but actually cruises with incredible authority. Even judged by the modern standards of automobile expectation it matches most other four-door sedans I’ve been in.

This was the first all steel-bodied car built by Rolls-Royce/Bentley and, of course, was the first step leading to the disappearance of the coachbuilders formerly dominant in the marque’s history. Interestingly it was built by Pressed Steel Bodies — later owned by Rootes — which built bodies for many British manufacturers.

Technical details

Motive power is suppied by the, then new, Rolls-Royce 4.5-litre motor — very similar to the previous one, simply having a larger bore. In Britain, including tax, this Bentley would have cost £4473-14-5d — considerably less than an average house. It produces 31.5hp (RAC) from six cylinders which combine to a total capacity of 4566cc. Compression ratio is 6.4 to 1. All-up weight is 1829kg — nearly two tons — and flat chat at 161kph it would take a hell of a lot of stopping. She’s a rather thirsty old girl at 18.8l/100km (15mpg), clearly originating from an era when if you worried about the price of petrol you couldn’t own a Bentley.

The interior is classically conservative. There are detachable armrests on individual front seats, and on the backs of those seats are foldaway tables for your G&T — as befits the owner and his lady; lots and lots of room of course. The dashboard is traditional British, featuring lashings of satin-finished woodwork and the mandatory array of neat businesslike gauges.

For its time it’s both very high-tech and traditional. For instance, the gearchange is on the driver’s right side, a hangover from the much earlier vintage eras — and maybe that was the best place? There are four forward gears but first gear is a crawler and non-synchro, so the owner’s manual advises, “Have your driver start in second.” A clear indication of the market niche this car is built for.

Starting is also a blast from the past. “To start the car, put control on steering wheel to START and hand throttle on steering wheel to about one third open. Press the starter and when the motor has been running for a while move throttle back to zero and choke to RUN.” Now your driver will move off?

The suspension is adjustable, with a ride control lever on the steering wheel, and you can check the engine oil level with a button on the dashboard that uses the fuel gauge. A chassis lubricating system is fitted, there is a lever under the dash which needs to be pushed once every 161km (100 miles). This then sends the oil around the ducted system, from which it drips onto the parts that matter — particularly the kingpins.

There is only one grease nipple, and that’s on the driveshaft. Similarly, there is only one grease cap, and that’s on the distributor. Typically Rolls-Royce, there are two fuel pumps and the braking system has the rear brakes working mechanically directly off rods — so servo failure doesn’t leave you brakeless.

Sixty years later

I’ve had this frustrated love affair with Bentleys for a number of years — triggered off when I had a trip in Richard Izard’s Turbo R between his country estate and the nearby centre of Warkworth. Smooth, silent, fast and on rails on any corner no matter what the speed — not, of course, that Richard would exceed the limit!

I’ve been in vintage examples and adored them, also the fabulous Barclay Bentley at a recent rally, and now the 60 Diamond Jubilee model became mine for an afternoon. I felt like a teenager on a first date with some English siren.

I talked to a mentor from my early years in motorcar mania, Mike Clark, who taught me a great deal about customer relations (he’s a car dealer) in the car game. These days Mike’s one of the head honchos at Independent Prestige — actually Mike is Mr Bentley in New Zealand, which is a bit of a turnaround; for years he was Mr Mercedes.

I asked Mike about this Diamond Jubilee business, and he gave me the booklets detailing the history of the marque at Crewe and the coming developments with this greatest of marques. It’s all about 60 years of Bentleys at Crewe, where they were relocated after Rolls-Royce became a major maker of aero engines. In 1946 Rolls-Royce had decided that the Derby factories should now concentrate entirely on the manufacture of aero engines. Consequently, the Crewe factory and Rolls-Royce engineers could become the focus for the car side of things — now much less important, of course, than the aero engines built by the winners of the air war.

It is possibly ironic that Rolls-Royce is currently owned by BMW and Bentley by Volkswagen, however history does roll on.

In 1946, Crewe’s first car came off the new production line. It was the first car ever to be built completely (including body) by Rolls-Royce, but it was not a Rolls-Royce car, it was the first of our subject cars, the Bentley Mark VI — the first product of the 60 years Bentley is celebrating this year.

In commemorating this event, Bentley has built a run of special Diamond Jubilee two-door coupes with a W-motor deploying 412kW (552hp). Normally, I’m pretty impervious to driving sensations — but I must admit to considerable nervousness behind the wheel of this beautiful exotic as I nervously weaved my way through Auckland’s afternoon traffic. I was especially nervous with the accelerator response — one could sense that you needed to be very cautious. This baby, you could feel, was compressed dynamite — if you get my image.

I wasn’t wrong

A favourite word of the verbally challenged is ‘awesome’ — everything that impresses is labelled with the word. I’ve dodged its use until now, thinking it of a currency only to be used with the extra-extra-special.

However, this car is truly awesome! I only drove it around the city but would love to drive it to Wellington, because it would take a major shake-down trip to appreciate the engineering, build quality and handling of this stunning car.

Currently there are several models, all sharing the same technical specifications. But the car we are comparing our MkVI with is the Bentley Continental GT Diamond Series and, to me, its technical details are quite well in advance of the 1946 Bentley. Powered by a twin-turbocharged W12 engine — which pumps out 412kW at 6100rpm, controlled via a ZF tiptronic transmission — the Diamond GT, despite weighing in at a hefty 2385kg, manages to cover the benchmark 0-100kph sprint in only 4.8 seconds before maxing out at a license-losing 318kph — that’s 197mph for you imperialists.

In my very limited driving time I noticed how incredibly smooth, silent and under-stated the GT was and, to my astonishment, how many people on foot were noticing and pointing. Mind you they could have been querying how that scruffy old bastard got hold of the beautiful Bentley — was he a thief? I was so impressed I reflected on the feasibility of selling property and owning this instead — it costs the same price as an Auckland house, but would be a hell of a lot more status enhancing!

Past and present

Between the MkVI of this story and the commemorative Bentley of 60 years later there is one notable characteristic in common — state-of-the-art perfection.

Both Rolls and Bentley started their careers as apprentices in railway engineering — Rolls from a working class family and Bentley from the privileged classes.

Today they’d both marvel at the international giants that their creations have become. Both companies played hugely significant parts in the two world wars and went on to be owned by companies from the ‘other side’ — both of which have in turn poured in resources, capital and skills to make these the giants of the World’s top-end car builders 60 years later!

BMW and VW (both also highly significant marques) have clearly contributed significantly to both Rolls-Royce and Bentley.

Crewe’s 60 years of Bentleys has now been commemorated by a superb automobile which, in every facet, is a worthy successor to the 5000 MkVI cars built during the first six years of Crewe production. I think they might have one of these Diamond Series GTs left at Independent Prestige — sell your house and go see Mike Clark.

Several years ago we printed a short story on this car. Since then it has changed ownership, allowing us to take a much closer look at this re-creation of the legendary Blower Bentley

We’ve all had the opportunity to either drive or be taken for a ride in something that practically alters the entire way we view our own automotive passions: making us realise that there’s a lot more, in fact, a hell of a lot more to this hobby than what we know, or indeed think we know.

There’s nothing that quite excites the emotions more on a foggy Auckland Saturday morning than to be taken for a spin around an inner city suburb in a ‘1932’ Blower Bentley. It may be a re-creation but don’t be fooled; this Peterson-built special is as close to the real thing as you’re ever going to see and, unless you go delving into the bowels of this superb piece of engineering brilliance to literally check the chassis number, basically there’s no evidence to suggest otherwise.

This car oozes character from beneath every handcrafted rivet to its green Wilton carpet and Connolly leather upholstery and, as I climbed aboard the huge beast, the hairs on my neck were standing on end at the thought of what I was about to experience. The breathtaking sound of the massive 4.5-litre supercharged engine was like nothing I have ever heard before. To say this thing was built like a Sherman tank would be an understatement, and looking around the cockpit, it seemed clearly obvious that the creator of the original Bentley, WO Bentley, started out as a locomotive engineer. Once a few minor issues like a flat battery and overheating issues at idle were sorted we headed off. This big old girl likes plenty of cool air in her face to keep operations at optimal temperature.

Powerful monster

In the Bentley, you’re sitting perched above the drivers of cars and most SUVs, and one of my first feelings was how big this car really is and, though it’s beautifully proportioned, that gave way to the fact that everything is just¦ BIG!

Naturally, there was so much going on in my mind I was trying to take everything in at once — which included observing David Blackmore, the beast’s owner, wrestle this immensely powerful monster around suburban streets. Every stop, intersection and manoeuvre required precise coordination and timing between double declutching, reaching awkwardly down between the seat and the drivers’ door for the gear shift, selecting the right gear, keeping the revs up, operating the massive, seemingly unpredictable, ventilated drum brakes and guiding the car with some trepidation by yanking the steering wheel from time to time. It all made for a very exciting ride. I could see that our particular model was equipped with the ‘arm-strong’ variable steering option ranging from virtually impossible at rest to not much better at speed. Of course, there are no crumple zones or airbags aboard this puppy. Hit something and you’re likely to go straight through it, or if it were solid enough then the big Bentley would more than likely come to an abrupt stop, leaving its occupants somewhat vulnerable.

The machine-turned aluminium dash layout fitted with large aircraft-type instruments on the Bentley are less than ergonomically efficient to say the least, with a bewildering array of dials and switches which I scanned on more than one occasion in an attempt to find out what was going on. Funnily enough, even David wasn’t too sure what some of the switches were for either.

I found myself unable to wipe the silly grin off my face as I tried to imagine the antics of the infamous Bentley Boys in the late 1920s, and I sensed a real appreciation for the courage, bravery and commitment it must have taken to actually race one of these cars. It’s been said before, but there are moments in time that remain indelibly etched in one’s mind forever. For me, this is one of those great experiences that will remain with me for a very long time.

The Bentley Trust

Being the trustee of a trust that goes by the name The Bentley Trust — trading under the name Number One Limousines — can have its advantages, especially if you happen to be a passionate car enthusiast. When successful businessman and property developer, David Blackmore, decides to add another vehicle into the trust’s fleet then anything can happen. What I’m really trying to say is that David has no real affinity to any one marque, so basically, if he likes the look of it, and the price is right, chances are it’ll be snapped up.

Mind you at the moment Bentleys seem outnumbered by the others cars in the trust’s collection — which include Rolls- Royces (one of them a new model Phantom), Lincolns, Cadillacs, Lamborghinis, a Buick Riviera, a Corvette, a couple of Dodge SRT10s, no less than half a dozen Mercedes-Benz Pullmans (two of which were previously owned by Hugh Hefner while another is a rare Landaulet model). There is even a Messerschmitt. I’m sure I’ve missed a few, however, luckily for me, one of David’s new building projects — currently under construction and which will eventually house the entire fleet — is literally just around the corner from NZCC HQ. So as you can imagine my visits are frequent, and David is always kind enough to stop and take time out to chat about the cars.

An expensive bargain

About 18 months ago, David was visiting a local prestige car dealership, and sitting in the showroom was the 1932 Peterson Blower Bentley you see here is these pages.

“I thought this car was absolutely fabulous,” David told me, and although he had never heard of Peterson, he quickly learned that this re-creation was going to cost a fraction of a real Blower Bentley. At that point it was a no-brainer, although he admits it was an expensive bargain.

This Bentley represents the finest workmanship available today, and is one of a special order of six cars built by Peterson under instruction from none other than Barclays of London, one of the world’s most renowned Bentley dealers. These six cars were the result of many years of creative re-bodying, rebuilding and restoring the minimal fleet of original cars that were actually built by WO Bentley during the model’s 10 years of production. Mounted prominently on the firewall, the finely embossed brass plate clearly states it all — “Peterson Blower. 4.5-litre supercharged Rolls/Bentley Special” and concludes with, “Built in the Style of the Birkin Team Blower Of 1930 for Jack Barclays — Peterson Engineering.”

It was built on a Rolls-Royce chassis, and the idea was to use authentic Bentley and Rolls-Royce components from the ’20s and ’30s to recreate the famous 1929—1931 4.5-litre supercharged Le Mans Bentley in the exact style of the great racing Bentleys. This Bentley looks the part in every respect, right down to the officially authorised, registered Bentley trademark badges front and rear and the unmistakable, specially built blower similar to the Amherst Villiers unit used by the Birkin racing team.

The Beginning

Bentley Motors Limited, a British-based manufacturer of luxury cars and Grand Tourers was founded on January 18, 1919, by Walter Owen Bentley, known simply as WO.

In his formative years WO was trained as a locomotive engineer, and his youthful enthusiasm enabled him to enjoy cricket and motorcycle racing — which included racing a 3.7kW (5hp) Rex at Brooklands in 1909.

After his time at the railway WO joined his brother, HM Bentley, selling French DFP cars which were hardly renowned for their performance — that is, until WO appeared on the scene. He soon improved their performance by using lighter pistons made from copper and aluminium. With this new-found technology, plus Bentley’s redesigned camshaft, DFPs won several races at Brooklands, taking out class B records in 1913 and 1914.

During WWI, WO worked for the technical board of the Royal Naval Air Service perfecting the French Clerget rotary engine, and his experience in using aluminium pistons was to prove invaluable. These modified engines soon bore his name, being called the BR1 and BR2 (Bentley Rotary). After the war WO’s ambition was to see a car bearing his own name, thus encompassing his knowledge and experience from previous years, and in 1919 he formed Bentley Motors Limited.

Bentley existed in its original guise for just over a decade, yet the company’s accomplishments in that time were astonishing. During the its early years the focus was entirely on motorsports, culminating in four consecutive victories at the Le Mans 24 Hour Race, the world’s most prestigious race and one in which the emphasis was on endurance and reliability rather than how quickly the cars finished. The key to the race was to actually finish.

The Bentley Boys

The car’s reputation for high performance was kept alive and well by a group of prosperous British car enthusiasts known as The Bentley Boys — Woolf Barnato, heir to a partnership in the Kimberly diamond mines; Sir Henry Birkin; George Duller, steeplechaser; Glen Kidston, aviator; Sammy Davis, automotive journalist; and Dr Dudley Benjafield.

The Bentley Boys captured the spirit of the times, partying as hard as they worked. Larger than life, their restless and often reckless love of speed and adventure perfectly complemented the big green Bentleys from Cricklewood. More than a few of them resided in Grosvenor Square, in adjoining flats, and it soon became known as Bentley Corner given the number of Bentleys often parked there.

At one point, on a bet, Barnato raced a legendary Bentley against the Blue Train Express across France, travelling on public highways with normal traffic from Cannes to Calais, then by ferry to Dover, finally arriving in London as the train arrived in Calais. He won, and the special-bodied 6.5-litre car became known as the Blue Train Bentley.

The first racers

WO’s design philosophy followed a simple formula. “We were going to make a fast car, a good car, the best in its class.” This idea lay behind all the cars produced by Bentley Motors, an idea the value of which was proved through motor racing. WO’s motor racing goals were equally straightforward. It was undoubtedly the most cost effective way of proving and subsequently testing his designs, and was the most successful way of advertising the cars.

Bentley’s first race-prepared car was designated Exp2, earning its first victory at Brooklands in 1921, a sprint race won by works driver, Frank Clement. This victory highlighted the reputation of the new car design, justifying Bentley’s participation in motor sport. This prototype vehicle still exists, and is owned by Bentley.

Bentley was represented by chassis #141 — a 3.0-litre driven by John Duff, a Bentley dealer based in London — at the original running of the Le Mans race in May 1923. The car finished fourth, delayed in large part by mechanical problems, but it returned in 1924 to win the first victory for Bentley.

The next Bentley to win at Le Mans was ‘Old Number 7,’ in 1927, following a shocking crash that left the two other Bentleys out of action for the duration of the race. Number seven was seriously damaged, but eventually caught and passed the lead car to claim victory.

Bentley Boy Sir Henry Birkin had, at this point, become an accomplished Bentley racer and he won at Le Mans in 1929, but he was significant to the Bentley story for another reason. It was his suggestion to supercharge the hefty Bentleys to overcome their immense size and weight disadvantage on the track. Although unconvinced at first, WO was eventually persuaded to fit a supercharger, giving birth to the classic Blower Bentley. Initially unreliable, it went on to become a motoring icon with its distinctive front-mounted supercharger.

Birkin met an unfortunate end in 1933, dying from complications after being burned by the hot exhaust of his Maserati during a refuelling stop at the Tripoli Grand Prix. WO realised the publicity motor racing success would generate, and enthusiastically encouraged it, commenting that, “The company’s activities, particularly its racing, attracted the public’s fancy and added a touch of colour, vicarious glamour and excitement to drab lives.”

The most famous and valuable of all the Bentley racing cars is the 8.0-litre Speed Six, ‘Old Number One’. This car has an illustrious history, recording two consecutive Le Mans victories, and it made a huge impact by winning Brookland’s 500-mile race in 1931.

Clive Dunfee crashed this car at Brooklands in 1932, unfortunately losing his life. Following the crash, Old Number One became an almost mythical beast in the motor racing world. A high profile court case took place in 1990 which determined that the car did still exist — although extensively rebuilt with other parts it changed hands for an amazing £10 million.

The Great Depression was particularly hard on luxury car manufacturers, and by 1931 Bentley was having financial difficulties that couldn’t be solved by winning races alone. That same year Bentley became a subsidiary of Rolls-Royce, which clearly had little to do with racing cars.

With a reduced customer base, it made sense for Rolls-Royce to do away with its top competitor and, after the purchase, Bentley racing was largely confined to private teams, with factory backing at an absolute minimum. It should be noted that Bentley was a very serious competitor to Rolls-Royce, and that the 8.0-litre Bentley was probably a better machine than anything Rolls-Royce had to offer at that time.

Bob Petersen Engineering

Petersen Engineering, based in rural Devon, has forged a name for itself worldwide through over 25 years of restoring, rebuilding and recreating Bentleys, utilising the vast inventory of replacement parts manufactured on site. The reasons for owning a Petersen Special are as diverse as the owners themselves. They include reliability, safety and compatibility with the demands of modern traffic, price, and quality of finish. Quite apart from today’s vintage Bentley prices, numerous potential buyers are typically well aware of their own driving limitations and have no desire to take part in all the tall stories of difficult gearboxes and narrow misses with poor brakes.

Using period parts built to authentic coachwork patterns and dimensions of cars of the ’20s, Petersen Specials are classic recreations, therefore not ‘original’ in the strictest sense of the word. Petersen Engineering cars are built on original ’30s Bentley or Rolls-Royce 20/25 chassis and supplied with an original registration number and documents. New bodywork, windscreen, footplates, exhausts and other parts are to be found on many restored ‘original’ Bentleys, supplied in many cases by Petersen Engineering.

The Petersen 4.5-litre Blower is an authentic re-creation of the charismatic car developed for racing by Sir Henry Birkin and his team in the late ’20s.

All its components are completely reconditioned to the highest standards. Many of the fittings are hand made, including filler caps, stone guards, footplates, fuel tanks, radiators, wheels, hubs, superchargers, bodies, trim and dashboard, as well as many other smaller parts.

As suggested earlier, WO Bentley himself was not very keen to see his cars supercharged, fearing they would be unreliable. Bob Peterson Engineering feels the Petersen Blower would have met his approval, especially if the reactions of satisfied customers are anything to go by. Acceleration, performance and speed are breathtaking, and in combination with the powerful whine of the supercharger to complement the guttural exhaust, a spectacular entrance to any event is guaranteed.

Specs

Peterson 4.5-Litre ‘Blower’ Bentley

Engine: Straight-six Bentley R-Type fitted with special camshafts, pistons and flywheel

Capacity: 4.5-litre, supercharged

Max power: 175kW-plus

Gearbox: Four-speed manual, modified MkVI Bentley fitted with Laycock/Peterson ‘P’ Type overdrive providing 26 per cent increase in fourth gear and Peterson heavy duty clutch

Chassis: Rolls-Royce, strengthened to Bentley specifications. New cross members and suspension mounts to accommodate supercharged motor

Front/rear axle: Royce 20/25

Brakes: Power-assisted servo hydraulic 17-inch diameter racing drums with twin leading shoe system on front. Rear — 14-inch drum

Wheels/tyres: 700×19-inch 70 spoke wire wheels with 700×19-inch tyres

Body: Vanden Plas Le Mans style. Ash frame, aluminium skin, fabric covered

Words Ashley Webb Photos Adam Croy

Penn checks out an exceptional, British-built Blower Bentley replica.

Words and Photos Penn McKay

As I write it’s 10 days since I revelled in a drive in this magnificent classic on a mellow February morning. This drive took us from Auckland to Wellsford in a manner very few makes of cars can emulate — simply because there are very few cars like this one. In fact, I can only remember one — George Unspellable’s magnificent 1924 Renault 45, itself a monster car to rival the big Bentleys.

It was the kind of drive that stays in your memory for the rest of your days; a huge powerful locomotive-like machine hammering along every passing lane as it made short work of rice rockets, buses and trucks alike. You look down on most cars with conscious superiority and across the short space to the truck drivers’ cabs — smirking as you attempt to look nonchalent!

It is designated as a 1933 4.5-litre Blower Bentley, with a Le Mans-type body

Those passing lanes kept my driver, Guy King, busy as hell. Between double de-clutching down, then up the cogs, switching the awkwardly placed electric overdrive control on and off, peering at the array of gauges, sawing away at the wheel and grinning like a maniacal Toad of Toad Hall in his helmet and goggles, he was having a ball. All of this whilst I watched out of the corner of my bulging eye the speedo needle wavering around some magical numbers. Couldn’t have been right though, surely old cars can’t do those numbers? This Blower Bentley Special belongs to John Blair but he, poor beggar, works continuously, thus enabling a helpful Guy King to exercise the car on his behalf — bit like popping next door to exercise your neighbour’s German Shepherd because you’re kind hearted rather than mad on Shepherds — yeah right!

The Petersen Bentley

It is designated as a 1933 4.5-litre Blower Bentley, with a Le Mans-type body. It’s one of a special order of six cars made by well-known Bentley restorer Petersen’s under instruction from that most senior of the Bentley dealers, Barclays of London. The idea was to use appropriate Bentley and Rolls-Royce components to make a version of the famous Le Mans Bentley — the 1929-1931 4.5-litre Supercharged model. These six cars are, in many ways, the logical culmination of many decades of activity in restoring, mixing and matching, rebodying and rebuilding the small fleet of cars actually built at the WO Bentley works during its 10 years of production.

Based in Devon, England, Bob Petersen has been creating individual and beautiful cars for 25 years — vintage Bentleys are restored, rebuilt and recreated. With many replacement parts manufactured on the premises, he sells to vintage Bentley owners throughout the world, as well as using them on the Petersen Bentley Specials.

As well as the Le Mans car Petersen’s builds replicas of the Gurney Nutting coupe well-known as the Barnato Blue Train Bentley — three built so far and another two under construction. These cars were used, incidentally, by Bentley in a European-wide promotion of its latest models. Peterson’s supercharged 6.5-litre Road Racer is also very special, and from all accounts a very exciting car to drive. Built to road-legal specifications, they are single or two-seater racing cars with engine modifications as requested. These have included 4.5-litre Blower, 6.5-litre Blower, and  27-litre Rolls-Royce Merlin engines — they’re very, very fast!

Founding a legend

WO Bentley had been trained as a locomotive engineer, then moved onto racing motorcycles (finally deciding that the American Indian was the best — and he never saw our film!) From there, WO moved onto refining French DFP light cars, introducing the use of aluminium pistons and successfully racing and selling them until WWI broke out. He took his aluminium pistons to the right authorities, and spent WWI working on aero engines, where he capped a very successful war effort by designing and building the Bentley Rotary 1 and 2 engines for the Royal Flying Corps.

By 1919 he’d built up a large and very useful knowledge base, and determined that it was time to build a vehicle encompassing the virtues he deemed essential in his sort of car. The importance of his training in locomotive engineering, then aero engines, cannot be too strongly stated. British heavy industry set standards of excellence backed by immense personal discipline that we must regret the passing of these days. His first car was the Bentley 3.0-litre, and over the next nine years his company made and sold a little over 1600 3.0-litre chassis. Additionally, Bentley made a further 1400 cars mounting bigger motors — 4.5-litre, 6.5-litre and 8.0-litre.

Five of the Blower Bentleys were built for racing and 50 for homologation reasons

The basic Bentley was such a soundly designed car that to this day the reputation of the marque still stands for excellence in almost every feature.
WO Bentley acknowledged that the two motors which most influenced his thinking were Peugeot’s pre-war dohc (1913) and the Mercedes GP motor of 1914, which he studied in London early in the war. But he had strict criteria by which he built his designs. Reliability was the first aim, then smoothness and silence, and lastly sheer power output. He didn’t go to Peugeot’s twin-cam layout, because at that stage the drive was noisy, and one of his criteria was silence of operation.

It was by these criteria that Bentley resisted the idea of supercharging as an aid to victory in racing. He commented that supercharging was a “perversion and corrupted the car’s performance.” It’s essentially true that the 4.5-litre supercharged cars were never as successful as they should have been. They cost their underwriter, the Hon Dorothy Pagett, a truckload of money before she backed out, and they proved mechanically unreliable under the stress of racing.
Worst of all they made a serious contribution to the firm’s fiscal instability.

The Original Blower Bentleys.

Woolf ‘Babe’ Barnato was by far the wealthiest of the Bentley Boys, a group of well-heeled sportsmen playboys who not only raced Bentleys very successfully, but used them as everyday cars — well they would, wouldn’t they? Several of them lived in Grosvenor Square, where they had adjoining flats, and they parked so many Bentleys there that it was known as Bentley Corner. These men who won the races were part of the marque’s exotic presence, and even today are inextricably intermeshed with the ’20s — a gloriously hedonistic image of postwar Europe forgetting the horrors of WWI.

The leading driver was Sir Henry ‘Tim’ Birkin, who had already won at Le Mans and wanted to continue the streak using supercharged Bentleys. He had it all figured out that a blower between the dumb-irons driven at engine speed by the crankshaft would work wonders. The basic 4.5-litre motor (1927-’31) was produced to bring back the best features of the original 3.0-litre design, but obviously with extra capacity. Some 665 were sold, plus 55 supercharged versions.

The format followed was standard Bentley practice, with a cast-iron block and non-detachable cylinder head. There were four valves per pot, driven by a sohc operating the Bentley forked double rockers for the inlet and singles for each of the exhaust valves. The crankcases were alloy, but heavy versions taking a 32.4kg crankshaft were made in elektron — I believe these were for the supercharged motors, although the actual Birkin team cars had a large capacity reinforced sump.
Five of the Blower Bentleys were built for racing and 50 for homologation reasons, as required for entry to Le Mans. Most of the homologation cars were built and delivered after the race, and many had the Birkin modifications.

That was all 70-plus years ago, and the cars have grown hugely in the collective consciousness of vintage sports car fans. Hence the commissioning by Barclays of six of these (now called) Barclay Blower models.

Between the take-over of Bentley in 1931 by Rolls-Royce and 1934 a lot (relatively) of Bentleys were made using left-over parts, and by no means always the bits correct to the model. It was Rolls-Royce’s way of recovering some (in fact all) of its outlay of £125,000 in buying the assets of Bentley from the receivers. At the same time there were Bentleys being built that were largely Rolls-Royce models. Furthermore, such was the magic of the name even then that the ’30s saw a proliferation of specials, of rebodied cars — conversions from saloons to Le Mans Vanden Plas replicas — and of reassembled cars. Quite an industry grew up around rebodying scruffy post-WWII cars with reproduction vintage bodies on the solid chassis. Today age has sanctified all of them, of course.
These are cars where, if you want one, you write the cheque — quickly! You can’t lose.

The Barclay/Peterson Bentleys

Our featured Petersen-built ‘Bentley’ is a prime example of a superbly put together motor car. Yet it excites a huge range of emotions amongst the afficianados, ranging from total acceptance to total rejection and, of course, reflecting entirely the personal attitudes of each individual expressing them. The answer as to whose emotions are right will never be resolved because it is entirely a personal matter, various forms of spurious logic notwithstanding. it’s everybody’s right to have an opinion (provided the wife is away) and that’s all it can be.

But the fact is that this car does exist, is a very fine piece of work, and what’s more is an excellent driver. Note also that it sports the registered trademark Bentley badges front and rear, and I’m told that that is all legit! This Bentley badged car is made up of genuine Rolls/Bentley bits from the very early ’30s and built in the style of the great racing Bentleys from the ’20s. It looks the part in every detail.

On display recently in St Heliers with the Bentley Driver’s Club, which had just completed a month-long NZ tour, it pretty much stole the show, judging by the constant crowds gathered around studying it. On the firewall of the Barclay Blower is a brass plate that says it all — “Petersen Blower. 4.5ltr Supercharged Rolls/Bentley Special.” Then follows some data ending with a statement — “Built In The Style Of The Birkin Team Blower Of 1930 for Jack Barclays. — Petersen Engineering.” Clearly a car built to a purpose.

Who wouldn’t be proud to own this car? But you do need deep pockets if you want one, they’re not casually thrown together.

Controversy

About eight years ago the then president of the Rolls-Royce Enthusiasts’ Club (UK) wrote a rather scornful little article on these cars under the heading, Look-alike Hybrid Specials. It was reproduced for interest in the local club magazine, and was promptly answered by highly respected Bentley/Rolls-Royce afficianado, Ken White. Ken commented that that critic may well have a great deal more to worry about these days, referring no doubt to the foreign ownership that has since taken over Rolls-Royce and Bentley.
Ken went onto welcome this beautifully-made car and its owners to the New Zealand club, and to write in praise of this car.

Penn sneaks in under the tent flap and salivates over some very fine classic machinery brought in by visitors.

Words: Penn McKay Photos: Jared Clark

My only complaint about vintage Bentleys is that by the time you can afford one, you’ve got a lot older and a lot less nimble at climbing into high cockpits. But once in them, what a real blast from the golden era of automobiling (new word, feel free to use it). A vintage Bentley really does thunder down the Queen’s Highway, long bonnet stretching out before you, aero screens shovelling the wind above your face so the dandruff is blown out of your hair, and behind you the bellow of the exhaust rivalling a WWII Lancaster bomber.

About 3400 cars were made by WO Bentley during the ’20s. Cars that so rivalled Rolls-Royce that the iconic marque knew it had to buy Bentley out when the Great Depression, combined with under-capitalisation, forced WO to sell up. Thereafter, Rolls Bentleys became known as Derby Bentleys, and embodied Rolls-Royce’s concepts of how such a car should look and perform rather than WO Bentley’s.

The Derby Bentleys were, and are still, very fine motor cars indeed, but they aim at a different ideal, one that doesn’t include the kind of raw performance that enabled Bentley to score repeated successes at Le Mans. The Derby Bentleys from the ’30s are lower and cruisier and not so hairy-chested as WO’s awesomely fast lorries — as they were allegedly termed by Ettore Bugatti. That said, the Derby Bentleys are usually much more affordable (relatively) at the lower end, and still bloody expensive at the highly desirable end. Importantly, they have all, without exception, remained totally driveable and utterly reliable, decade after decade — even with Lucas electrics!

Touring Bentley-style

It rather seems that possession of a Bentley is pretty well concomittant with a sound cash flow. Although it also seems to me that it’s mainly the capital cost that gets serious, Bentley drivers actually do drive their cars and the 40 cars that have made a recent trip to New Zealand from the UK, USA, Switzerland, Scotland and Australia (here to find out how to succeed at rugby, netball and league, I suspect) demonstrated this need to drive by touring nearly 4830km from Christchurch to Northland and, as I understand it, without any maintenance problems.

This was a month-long trip taking in pretty well all of an exceptionally dry February. Consequentially, I’m likely to die never have seen a vintage Bentley with the top up, ’cause these Bentley Drivers’ UK certainly never bothered to hoist their rooves. Interestingly, about 30 of the visitors were vintage Bentleys, and the total value of these alone is a reputed $15,000,000.

I talked to another old UK pensioner, Tony Lang, who used to have a factory filling cosmetic aerosol cans with cosmetic materials such as hairspray. He’s very much in favour of women looking after themselves, and in so doing it seems that they also look after him, because it turns out he has three of these cars and is on his second NZ Bentley tour. This time he brought his biggest one — to accomodate the wife’s baggage, he said — naturally I pointed out to him that he should be careful of what he says, since we are a nation obsessed with making politically correct statements, unless they’re said about men, in which case it doesn’t matter.

Joining the tour

I joined the cavalcade in Takapuna, getting a lift from Guy King, who exercises a very interesting Peterson Blower for the owner, John Blair. It’s a difficult car to categorise and, typically of the old car game, there are those who like to put it down as not being a ‘real’ Bentley, but it wears the trademark badges at each end and I’m assured that they’re Bentley approved. However, I think that it’s such a wonderful car, whatever it is, that you’ll read the details elsewhere in this issue.

I joined Guy at about 7.45am as he swung along Esmonde Road and went to a Takapuna Hotel, where the tour had stopped for the night. I was suffering from getting up at such an early hour. Unbreakfasted and blinking in the dawn light. I came alive when I first saw the cars — collected together were an amazing set of high-end collectables. There were also a large number of Asian businessmen displaying that national penchant for being photographed with local colour, and as far as lots of these smartly dressed gentlemen were concerned the Bentleys were perfect props for their NZ trip.

The initial briefing was about pointing the tour in the direction of Richard Izard’s personal airfield just out of Wellsford. Now consider this, these cars were about to join Auckland’s working weekday car-jam. No problem for these behemoths, all the rice rockets ducked to one side, ensuring they weren’t crushed by the considerably bigger chassis and tall wheels of the thundering Bentleys. North Shore Aucklanders are about as sophisticated as it gets in New Zealand, so everybody tried to pretend that these cars were in the traffic flow every day, and thank heavens that favourite trick of slowing in front of a vintage to read the badge wasn’t a problem here, because all these Bentleys have been equipped with big brakes front and rear.

Bentley bellow

Once on the Northern Motorway, heading for Wellsford, I was able to simulate nonchalance as I leaned back while Guy kept the boot buried as close to the limit as was permissable. No radio! That was great, because there was nothing to compare with the bellow of the seemingly completely open exhaust. Not a true Bentley? I’d settle for this any time, what a great road car. The torque in all gears means the car is monumentally long-legged — up Orewa Hill in top cog revelling in the passing lane.

However, essentially I’m a devout coward, especially in the passenger seat, and I’m sure that my bum was picking up quite a bit of understeer on some of the long curves where Guy gathered speed wearing a maniacal grin under his Biggles helmet and goggles. However, the exhaust bouncing back off the rocky walls on our left, opposite the plunging drop on the right, soon set me at ease! Right? Nothing like a bit of a scare to titilate the senses, I’ll swear I regained quite a lot of my diminished testoterone.

When we finally arrived at Patience and Richard Izard’s version of Croydon, I was ready for a superb breakfast masquerading as morning tea. One foreign gentleman said to another, “Och aye, if I’d known abart this wee feast I could have saved the baubees I spent on that breakfast!” This from a Bentley owner who thinks that money is something the accountant handles for him? Richard Izard has a Bentley that’s been in his family for many years. I think he also has the latest Bentley too, in fact I saw two of them there, so I suspect that one was Patience’s shopping basket.

Richard used to have a large collection of classic and vintage cars housed in a purpose-built building, but he’s lost interest and released most of them to new and grateful owners, and is into his and her aeroplanes these days. Yes, he and Patience each have a plane. I did hear it said that she was the better pilot, but that’s barely possible because it would go against nature. It was a fabulous morning, here we were on a windless day with the sun shining down on a line-up of stunning cars, several vintage aeroplanes, a proper hangar and clubrooms, and whilst we were there a couple of mates dropped in, including one in a vintage Gypsy Moth.

They must be an idle lot in Wellsford, I felt a glow of virtue as I slaved away at my journalistic trade — the only worker there. Another UK visitor, on departure, laughingly complimented Richard on his magnificent toy shop.

Prestige visit

The next time I caught up with the Bentley Tour was the following Saturday at Independent Prestige in Great North Road. It’s significant to me that, despite gloomy statements about the economy continuing to fly around our ears, this very up-market agency, selling only Bentley, Aston Martin and Lamborghini, is under the direction of a couple of smoothies including a friend of long standing — Mike Clarke. Mike has the remarkable ability to take large sums of money off people when selling them a car and have them actually enjoy the experience, enjoy him, and come back for more! I know, I did several times — but not here, I’d have to wear a jacket and a tie.

Buy a car here and there’ll be lots of noughts following the prime numbers. It was natural, of course, that this, the home of Bentley, would host these cars on their last Saturday in New Zealand. Another excellent breakfast accompanied by a couple of French chanteuse warbling frog songs — at a British car collection, talk about true entente cordiale.

Again the public crowded in to have a look. I did enjoy one switched-on young father. His small boy stood on his pedals as he raced across on his precariously wobbling bicycle, heading for some million dollar car. Dad leaning casually across swiftly grabbed him and disbiked him, not even interrupting his conversation with a friend. Observe, mothers, dads do know where the priorities are.

Bentleys on the Green

The last day saw the Bentleys gathered at St Heliers on the village green, a big turn-out of cars including Auckland members with some very beautiful Derby Bentleys. I couldn’t help but notice that the Peterson Blower attracted a great deal of attention. Built with the benefit of hindsight, and to a very high standard indeed, it struck a solid note with everybody. In the end it’s all about loving cars, especially the significant ones.

One highlight for me was the incredibly original 1926 3.0-litre car. It had been bought in 1936 — second hand — by a Major Turner, who put it into storage in 1939 in Edinburgh, no doubt he was off to work. Finally in 1972 he sold it to the present owner, John Watson, who got it running despite the 33 years of hibernation, and has used it ever since. I love originality but ownership of this car would be pure torture for me, as I fought off the temptation to refurbish the unique example.
Are there any unattached, Bentley-owning ladies out there who would be appreciative of an altruistic pennsioner’s companionship?

George Sharp

At 96 years young, George Sharp (now an Auckland resident) enjoyed being reaquainted at St Heliers with a 1927 4.5-litre Bentley he worked on when he was a 17-year-old at the WO Bentley factory.

Later in the ’30s he met the car again when he was a radio operator in the Police Flying Squad in London, and it was a car he frequently travelled in. Later still, after WWII, and still in the police force, George met this car once more on the police Advanced Driving Course in Hendon. Clearly, anything to do with Bentleys is tough and long-lived.

Rationalisation

At Independent Prestige in Great North Road I was talking to a Kiwi Bentley owner who commented that he’d bought his older, early ’70s Bentley for $35,000 in 1998, and frequently drove it as his everyday car (likes to see serfs tugging at the forelock as he sweeps past). Some years he spent $3K on general servicing, other years a lot less. Currently it was probably worth about $45K to sell. Try that sum on an everyday modern.

Now, if you buy a modern Bentley you’ll be writing a very fat cheque (in my case it’d be a criminal offence), and for a few years you’ll take a slugging — probably deductible for such customers? But eventually it’ll get to a sizeable residual value and start to climb again — and the way things go, inflation will probably return your original expenditure.

The Bentley Driver’s Club

Kerston Pelmore, as a young man, bought a 3.0-litre Bentley in 1933, and became captivated by ‘real motoring.’ He had a flat in Sloane Avenue, and by the usual method of putting cards under wipers lured 26 people, in 1936, to an inaugural meeting of a proposed Bentley Owners’ Club. Some very famous Bentley names, including WO himself and also Woolf Barnato, Benjafield, and Kensington-Moir all joined. By 1939 there were 110 members, but of course, war then stopped everything.

In 1945 the Bentley club reconvened, alas no Kerston who had been a casualty of war. By 1950 there were over 1000 members, rising steadily to today’s 3500 and with ‘regions’ all over the world, including New Zealand — which organised this highly successful summer rally.