Penn meets up with a superbly useable vintage Buick — and falls in love yet again.

John Reeve is your classic Kiwi bloke, which means he has a dry sense of humour, dresses for working comfort and, I suspect, wears the same gear — albeit ironed — to socialise, maintains 100 per cent commitment in whatever he does and is possessed of an urbane shrewdness that tells you he’s nobody’s fool.

All these traits were in full working mode when John focussed on the restoration of this very desirable vintage roadster. He’d owned it for a number of years, it had been sitting in his barn awaiting that moment when the restorer writing the cheques feels the mood coming over him; or maybe when he’s built up the adequate reserves (below the partner’s radar) required.

It may be typical of this man — indeed, I’m sure that it is — that when that mood came on him it was full speed ahead. Although he’d owned the car for about 14 years the recently completed full-on restoration only took about 18 months — something of a record?

However, in fairness that’s what happens when you pay the bills promptly. The rest of the world can keep a restoration dragging on for the same figure — but over years, not months.

I told you above that John impresses as the kind of Kiwi that gets on with the job. His idea was to carry out the restoration when he was ready, and then hit it hard, which he did a couple or so years ago. Incidentally, John acts as landlord for a couple of professional restorers — Steve and Ted Irwin at Henderson Vintage Restorations — and I suspect the relationship was a big help when it came to the practical execution of his intentions. Mind you, as I’ve said, John’s a very competent person and a fair bit was his own work.

Background

John’s been playing around with Model Ts for years, he has an interestingly bodied 1913 Roadster which we will visit at some stage. When he acquired this Buick in pieces, he was impressed with the engineering which in Buicks was so much ‘more’ than in the reliable but very basic Model T. Now I hate the implications in that, because a Model T is a truly great car — a history maker if ever there was one — but agreed it is a little primitive when compared to Buicks and similar rich men’s toys. Whilst I’m a dyed in the wool admirer of Henry’s products, I have to concede that the Buick is a more sophisticated, better built and finished vehicle and this would, of course, be reflected in the price.

The body from the firewall (original) back wasn’t too flash, so a full scale replication of the scuttle was entered into as being a more practical approach than trying to patch up the numerous rust holes.

The guards were okay, as was the imposing bonnet. All the body hardware was in good order and reuseable. The whole car looks distinctly up-market, judging by the elaborately detailed and adapted windscreen frame. This screen assembly epitomises the build quality that Buick was always known for. The original side pieces on the screen were cast in sections that incorporated plumbing for the vacuum-driven wipers. No provision was made for sealing the plumbing, and John had them recast since the originals were well their past use-by date.

If you have a look at the detail you’ll note how complicated the whole set-up is what with rear vision mirrors, provision for fold-down operation and, of course, the side screens. John couldn’t bring himself to retain the vacuum wipers and sensibly converted the system to period electric.

Sensible precautions

On the subject of that sort of modification, I know purists can be picky about post-birth alterations. Personally, I put them all under the heading of sensible precautions. If these cars were simply being treated as everyday drivers, not as precious relics, minor improvements in various aspects would be greeted enthusiastically and carried out by a succession of owners as available.

Similarly, John had a new crown wheel and pinion cast, giving a different ratio purely to help cope with modern traffic conditions — it’s a bloody big car and only comes with a three-speed ’box!

Naturally, we’re all in favour of maximising brake efficiency, and I’ve known the odd vintage to have a brake booster system very discretely fitted. If you can’t see it you don’t know about it. A great idea that also keeps your underpants fresh. By the way, my comment is a side issue, that system is not on this Buick.

What is on it is four wheel mechanically operated external contracting brakes on 356mm (14-inch) drums plus a handbrake on the rear two wheels. It’s a very big, heavy car so that’s very reassuring when you think of the possible options.

On The Road

Like me, this Buick is nearly 80 years old, yet on the road you’d soon adjust to the heavyish steering and, of course, all of us old blokes have no trouble with crash ’boxes — just double clutch on the rare occasions when you want to change cogs. John commented that there were a couple of driving issues, the high clutch pedal leads to a long stroke and a considerable and rather awkward leg travel. Similarly, the heavyish steering coupled with the wheel position relative to the seat can lead to aches and pains in the shoulders. However, I know this man has driven this car around both islands so I’m not surprised at those aches and pains.

On that, he comments that if he could only get radials of the necessary size he’s sure that handling would be dramatically altered. He has radials on one of his ’30s cars, and what a stunning difference they make.

A classic of American engineering

For me the jewel in this car must be its big 5.0-litre ohv six-cylinder motor (rebuilt by Dion Coleman), which easily fills the spacious engine bay as it sits on distinctly heavy duty chassis rails. This is a car built to last and to go anywhere.

Buick always used ohv motors, and during 1929 had several variations in production. However, the basic design was always the same and was based on completely sound engineering — no flights of fancy, no engineering experimental ‘suck and see’ attempts at innovation. These motors are classics of American engineering from a period when they never took their eyes off the goal of producing sturdy, reliable, comfortable and simple cars easily able to criss-cross their huge continent, no matter what the state of the roads.

Without these cars Steinbeck’s masterpiece, The Grapes of Wrath, which featured the mass trans-continental migrations of the Great Depression, could not have happened. Can you imagine them in Austin 7, Hillman or Morris vehicles?

We have strongly made hollow pushrods activating the valves millions of times, reacting to the demands of the sturdy gear-driven timing train. From 1929 the crankshaft was mounted in steel and babbit shells, as are the conrods. Interestingly, the pistons were still cast in iron. WO Bentley’s use of alloy in aircraft engines and later in his cars was yet to change world design. However, by and large everything else was pretty much standard engineering practice for the period, ensuring long-lived cars.

The fuel gauge is a real cutesy. On the dashboard there is a device with a U-tube showing red liquid. The level indicates how full the tank is by measuring the air in the tank and, of course, the fuller the tank the less air there will be. No moving parts and no adjustment, it’s termed a hydro-static type — that’s as far as I’ll go otherwise Ian Jowsey (referred to in my Classic Car Insurance article elsewhere in this issue) will have me again! Although he did commend me for my improved technical writing!

Marvel

The one failing on this motor was probably the Marvel carburettor, and John found that he was getting 31l/100km (nine miles per gallon) with it. Indeed, of the Marvel carburettor, Pete Le Gros’ father, who is familiar with these instruments, was heard to comment that the only marvel was really about where all the bloody petrol went. The trick is to turn the intake manifold upside down and fit a downdraught Stromberg, it works well and now the Buick returns 18.8l/100km (15mpg) — well, that’s better, isn’t it?

With the liquids, the cooling system pumps nearly 27 litres through a 83mm radiator of 0.2936 square metres (3¼ inch radiator of 455 square inches). Everything is cast iron — block and head — so there’s no special need for additives. Similarly, the oil is pressure-fed plus splash and overflow where applicable. But there’s a filter fitted from 1928, and 1.1 litres of oil per minute passes through it at 40kph.

Driving around the quiet country roads where John lives, I was totally taken with the sound of this big Buick donkey. It’s hard for me to describe so I can only say that it had exactly the soft muted sound of heavy duty torque I would expect such a car to emit. If you’ll get my meaning, it wasn’t the sounds it made that took me so much as the sounds it didn’t make — perhaps I should have been a poet? Put simply, cruising at a normal speed in top cog you could nearly count the strokes.

Dickey seat

Dear to any traditionalist’s heart is a ’20s dickey seat, and this Model 121 44X four passenger roadster (121-inch (3073mm) wheelbase, X for export) has one to die for. The boot lid opens and folds back, lifting the upholstered seating into position. Two steps mounted on the body lead you up and over the bumper and into the comfortable space where your feet share the floor area — big — with the golf bag or bags. These are inserted from the nearside where there is a small square hatch that also takes a wine or a beer case. One of the advantages of rebuilding your car’s body is that you can slightly alter dimensions in the light of modern circumstances.

Originally about 500 of these models were made and some were in RHD, but both had the golf club hatch in the same place, the offside. A touch dangerous in RHD mode? But in those days you were supposed to anticipate problems yourself.

Buick

Buick is famously American, a General Motors foundation member in fact. What isn’t so well known is that Buick’s guiding light was Scottish born engineer, David Buick, and we all know about the perfection of Scottish engineering. From the very beginning, Buicks had overhead valves, plus other refinements like torque tubes.

The first Buicks were produced at Detroit in 1903. By 1924 front wheel brakes were standard, quickly followed by detachable cylinder heads, synchromesh as standard and hydraulic shocks.

When Durant formed GM in 1908 he deliberately picked on soundly engineered makes, so the new conglomerate could only from strength to strength as the tidal wave of enthusiasm for the new horseless carriages dominated transportation. There’s too much history to do justice to the story here, and anyhow most readers are pretty familiar with the details. But an aspect they may be less aware of is the connection with Bedford.

In the UK pre-WWI there were cars known as the ‘all British Bedfords’ — however, the British part was the bodywork, the rest was Buick. A lot were sold to the Sassenach before the motoring press outed the story. But as we all know, Bedford also went on to be a byword for reliability. As a student in Christchurch in the early ’50s I was a truck driver in the holidays, and on my days off (I’m a failed BA). One of my favourite employers used only Bedfords, and they were everybody’s favourite truck. They still had those great Buick traits about being easily driven with lots of power, and always up to the task — whatever it might be — not to forget reliability and simplicity. They were a driver’s truck.

Words: Penn McKay Photos: Adam Croy

We travel to the heart of Taranaki to check out a brace of delightful Buick sedans

As America emerged from the austerity of World War II there was a massive increase in the buying of consumer goods. Televisions, washing machines, cake mixers and who knows what else were bought in the millions. Those who could afford to do so escaped to the new suburbs and surrounded themselves with labour-saving devices. A lack of public transport in suburbia meant the husband needed a car to get to work, and the wife needed a car for her family chores. In 1950, three out of five US families owned at least one car, and many had two.

The car-hungry years of the immediate post-war period saw a time when there was more demand for new cars than the American manufacturers could possibly satisfy. As soon as peace came they converted their war-time assembly lines back to civilian production, and carried on where they’d left off in 1942. The 1946 models were little changed from 1942, and Buick was no exception. There were a few changes for 1947 and even fewer in 1948 as Buick geared up for its first true post war model.

Buick History

Buick’s calendar year production for 1948 was over 275,000 cars, which accounted for just seven per cent of US production for the year, and saw Buick hold fourth place behind the ‘big three’ of Chevrolet, Ford and Plymouth. For the 1948 model year, the production total was 229,718, comprising 36,187 Specials, 112,441 Supers and 81,090 Roadmasters. Of those, 47,042 Roadmasters were sedans, just 527 of them in right hand drive.

The year was a big one for Buick — its five millionth car rolled off the assembly line in September, and its famous Dynaflow automatic transmission was announced.

By 1952, calendar year production was down to just over 320,000 from more than 400,000 the previous year. The Government had restricted vehicle production to 80 per cent of its 1950 levels because of the Korean War. A major strike by Buick’s workers and an extended shutdown to get ready for the all-new 1953 models were also responsible for the downturn.

Model year production for 1952 was 303,745 cars — 120,898 Specials, 136,404 Supers and 46,443 Roadmasters. Of the Supers, 71,387 were sedans, and 93,492 of total Buick production was of the new Riviera hardtop coupes. Nearly 275,000 (85 per cent) of the model year production were fitted with Dynaflow transmissions, and power steering was offered for the first time.

Throughout these years the engines remained much the same, with two versions of the Fireball straight eight. Specials and Supers were equipped with a 4064cc unit that produced 82kW at 3600rpm in the Special and 86kW at the same revs in the Super. The Roadmaster’s 5247cc version produced 107kW at 3600rpm with a manual gearbox, or 112kW at the same speed if mated to a Dynaflow. By 1951 Dynaflow was standard on Roadmasters. The Special/ Super engine had been enlarged to 4315cc in 1949, and power was up to 92.5kW, still at 3600rpm. The straight eights were phased out at the end of 1952 in favour of Buick’s new generation of overhead valve V8s.

It wasn’t just the engines that differentiated the Roadmaster from its lesser siblings. Its wheelbase was 3277mm, compared to the Special’s 3073mm and the Super’s 3150mm. Buicks gained their famous trademark portholes on each front mudguard in 1949, and the Roadmaster had four to the other models’ three.

Buicks were big, well-made cars that appealed to professional people who thought Cadillacs were too ostentatious. They were expensive — the price of a Buick equalled one Ford plus one Chevrolet. Buick told the world, “When better automobiles are built, Buick will build them.”

Buying a Buick

Russell Lambert started his motoring career on motorcycles, as a lot of young men did back in the ’50s, before graduating to an Essex. This was followed by a 1937 Pontiac. He wanted a 1939 Buick like one of his friends owned, but the friend suggested he should save a bit more money and buy a late ’40s model instead. Russell thought it was good advice, so he sold the Pontiac and started saving, running around in the meantime in a cheap 1929 Chrysler that had been cut down to a truck.

Finally, the time arrived to go Buick shopping, and one was advertised for sale in Upper Hutt. On his way to look at it Russell saw a black 1948 Roadmaster in a car yard in Levin. The salesman said the car was more or less sold to a jeweller in Blenheim, and was booked to be shipped to Picton. Russell would have to make up his mind that day whether he wanted the car. He looked at the one in Upper Hutt before returning to Levin to buy the Roadmaster. That was in 1959, and he still owns the car. It cost him £950 (NZ$1900 at the time), the same price as a brand new Vauxhall.

The Buick’s odometer read 70,000 miles (112,654km) then. It now reads about 220,000 miles (354,406km), so the car has been well used, although you wouldn’t think so to look at it and ride in it. Not all those miles have been easy, either. The car has towed a caravan (built by Russell) to all parts of New Zealand on family holidays, and has towed some heavy loads at times. Probably its hardest job was towing a friend’s 1951/’52 Buick Sedanette on a trailer from Mangapehi, east of Te Kuiti, to Taranaki.

It was required to handle all the tasks expected of a family car, and did so without protest. Nowadays it’s used less frequently, but still covers around 4000 kilometres per year, mostly on Vintage Car Club rallies and similar events.

Through it all, the Buick has been totally reliable. Russell has always carried out all maintenance on the car himself, from the most minor jobs to an engine recondition. In the early 1960s he successfully tendered for four crates of surplus Buick spares being sold off by the New Zealand Railways Road Services, which used to have a fleet of Roadmasters for transporting dignitaries and well-heeled overseas tourists around New Zealand. When they pensioned off the Buicks they bought Cadillacs, and a former Road Services driver told Russell the Cadillacs were no match for the Buicks.

Russell’s purchase meant he had more than enough parts to keep his Roadmaster running. It needed a valve grind, but he decided to use some of the parts to fully recondition the engine. He did all the work himself, apart from machining. That was 223,300km ago, and the engine has needed no work since then. In typical Buick fashion, it runs very smoothly and quietly with a subdued growl that is unique to straight eight engines.

Family Runabout

Some years later Russell bought a white 1947 Buick in poor condition and tidied it up. It became the family runabout and Russell’s work car. His son, Chris, remembers learning to drive in the white car.

At some time in the mid ’70s Russell went on a South Island tour with a fellow Buick enthusiast, and bought a black 1952 Buick Super in Omarama. He paid $2000 for the Super and sold the white car for $1500. How times have changed! The Super became the daily car and work hack. Russell has been a saw-miller all his life, and the Super was used to cart chainsaws, tools, fuel, and firewood. It was always carefully maintained but it definitely wasn’t babied.

Thirty years later the Super is still Russell’s runabout. Yes, he will ‘borrow’ his wife, Dawn’s, 1996 BMW 3 Series if it’s available, but the Buick is a familiar sight around his home town of Inglewood as Russell runs his errands. This car also averages around 4000 kilometres per year. Although Dawn prefers her BMW she drives the Buicks from time to time, usually to get them to shows or when they are used as wedding cars. Not surprisingly they are in hot demand for weddings, but Russell restricts this use to friends and family. He commented that they are on the second generation of marriages now.

Buicks seem to have become something of a tradition in the extended Lambert family. Russell’s Australian son-in-law has nearly completed the restoration of a 1955 Buick convertible. The Aussie contingent regularly crosses the Tasman to take part in rallies, and the whole family will head off to events in the two Buicks. They have attended the 1992 Pan Pacific Rally at Palmerston North, the VCC 50th Anniversary Rally in Christchurch, the Sun Alliance Rally in Hamilton in 2000, the Buick Centennial Rally in Napier in 2003 and the VCC Diamond Jubilee Rally in Invercargill in 2006.

Buicks on the Road

Russell generously offered me the chance to drive his black beauties, an offer that I now regret having declined. However, I was looking forward to going for a ride in each one to see if there were any major differences. There is a huge amount of room in these cars and they are imposing on the road. Both engines are fired into life by turning the key and pressing the accelerator to activate the vacuum operated starter switch — a Buick feature for a number of years. Settling into the Super first as Chris drove, it behaved as I expected, going about its business quietly and unobtrusively. These are not cars for hurrying along; that’s not what they’re about. They engender a totally relaxed way of travelling that has been largely forgotten.

Somehow, the Roadmaster is a whole different experience. While the Super is smooth, the Roadmaster is silent and silky. Stately is the word that comes to mind. Although neither car is fast their performance is deceptive. In years gone by, Russell used to cruise at around 120kph on the open road in the Roadmaster, and he always enjoyed the way the big Buick could hold its own on hills against more modern cars. It will take the Mount Messenger hill (south of Te Kuiti) in top gear, where some corners have a modern car down to second gear.

In fact, the Roadmaster’s gearbox is almost superfluous — Russell used second gear to move off from a standstill and the car will happily travel at 5kph in top gear, and this is with the differential ratio changed from the standard 4.1:1 gearing to 3.6:1.

The Roadmaster was originally equipped with huge 8.20×15 cross-ply tyres. Russell says they made the car a bit of a handful, and he could never get 30,000 kilometres from a set of tyres. Both his Buicks have been running on 225/75×15 radials for some years now, and he says they sharpen up the steering considerably. Not only are the cars more pleasant to drive, but the Roadmaster’s radials have travelled 65,000km so far and look to have at least another 15 to 20,000km left in them. This is very impressive considering the size and weight of the car.

The Roadmaster has been painted twice in Russell’s time. The paint was crazed when he bought the car, so he prepared it to be painted by the local spray painter. Thirty years ago he decided it needed freshening up, so once again he dismantled the car and prepared it for painting. In due course the car and its panels returned from the painters and were set out carefully in Russell’s shed. As he was re-assembling it he had a few problems one night that resulted in some chipped paint and colourful language. Unbeknown to him, every word had been overheard — he learned next day that an escaped convict had been hiding in the loft overnight!

A few parts have been re-chromed, the carpet has been replaced and the seats were re-upholstered some years ago. Russell estimates he has spent around $2000 on the car over the years. The Super has also been painted, but Russell carried out the whole job himself. Again, the maintenance costs have been very low, thanks to his considerable abilities. He says there is no part of a Buick that he hasn’t either repaired or carefully inspected to ensure it is serviceable.

Russell is a quietly-spoken, unassuming man who is very knowledgeable, and it was a pleasure to spend an afternoon in his company, talking about old cars. To own one old Buick for almost 50 years is remarkable. To have owned another for over 30 years may be unique. Fortunately, the appreciation of these old cars has been passed on to the next generation of Lamberts. It is unlikely that either of them will be daily cars when ownership also passes on, but there is no doubt that the Buicks will be kept and cherished.

1948 Buick Roadmaster and 1952 Buick Super

Engine Straight eight, cast iron
Capacity 5247cc (Roadmaster); 4315cc (Super)
Bore/stroke 87.4×109.5mm (Roadmaster) 81×104.9mm (Super)
Comp ratio 6.6:1
Max power 107kW at 3600rpm (Roadmaster) 92.5kW at 3600rpm (Super)
Fuel system Carter 2bbl carburettor (Roadmaster) Stromberg 2bbl carburettor (Super)
Transmission Three speed manual, column shift
Body/chassis Four door, separate chassis
Suspension F/R Coil springs with lever dampers
Steering Worm and nut
Brakes Drum/ drum
Tyres 8.20×15 (original, Roadmaster) 7.60×15 (original, Super)

Dimensions:

Wheelbase 3277mm (Roadmaster); 3150mm (Super)
O/all length 5515mm (Roadmaster); 5339mm (Super)
Width 2007mm (Roadmaster); 2032mm (Super)
Height 1665mm (Roadmaster); 1646mm (Super)
Track F/R 1502mm/1580mm (Roadmaster) 1501mm/1580mm (Super)
Weight 1891kg (Roadmaster); 1739kg (Super)

Performance

Top Speed approx 160kph (Roadmaster) approx 150kph (Super)
0-100kph 18—sec (Roadmaster); 20—sec (Super)
Economy 15l/100km

Words: Gordon Campbell Photos: Adam Croy

Owner Colin Rae tells us about the restoration of his roadster

It was in 1996 that I saw this Buick Roadster advertised for sale. The advert stated  the car was 70 per cent complete, and this proved to be almost correct. There were, however, some pretty large components that still needed to be sourced — a back tub, rear guards, bonnet, valance panels, headlights and windscreen parts. As well, there was no hood gear, nor hood bows, boot-lid and several other sundry parts. Parts that I could not locate I would get made or fabricate myself.To make the planned restoration even more difficult, the car came with absolutely no woodwork that I could use for patterns — this would later become a large problem. During my replication of the Buick’s woodwork, I found that on more than one occasion I had to cut quite a few pieces of timber in order to get it right — however, I simply persevered and got there in the end.

Target practice

The major body pieces that I had made by professionals were the rear guards and the bonnet. A replacement rear tub was located at a farm in Central Otago — although complete, the tub was peppered with bullet holes, having been used as target practice for quite some time. The tub was only salvaged after a lot of work.

I managed to locate a couple of doors and, after welding 13mm of new steel around these, they fitted the bill quite nicely. The valance panels I made myself, along with a new boot-lid.

I also made up the windscreen myself, using parts obtained from other Vintage Car Club members and swap meets. I was able to locate hood gear and hood bows in the same manner. The hood bows were formed on a former that I made up, and I used 26 fillets of timber that were glued and clamped to the former. Two passes through a band-saw gave me three wooden hood bows.

As I wanted to handle as much of the Buick’s restoration as I could, I completed the rest of the bodywork myself — with my panel-beater son keeping a close eye on proceedings as I worked towards completion. It must have been frustrating for my son, having to watch me bumbling around when he could have carried out the required work in a fraction of the time it took me. Instrumentation was another area which posed a few problems, as the car came with no gauges or components. Once again, a trawl around the swap meet circuit and fellow club members finally supplied all the necessary parts.

The wheels that came with the car, plus some more picked up along the way, provided me with a very nice set of wheels. These rims are 26 inches in diameter and are not that easy to find nowadays — so I was very fortunate in this respect.

Other jobs that had to be farmed out were the finishing coats of paint, the hood covering and the upholstery. I elected to use leather for the car’s interior, as the labour content for the job is no different whether vinyl, cloth or leather is used — only the material price changes.

Well looked after

When it came to refurbishing the mechanicals I found that I was once again very fortunate, as the differential was in as new condition and had obviously received some attention in fairly recent times. All that was required was a top-up with fresh oil.

The gearbox was also in extremely good condition as far as the gears and bearings were concerned. After a good clean out and a new coat of paint, the gearbox was ready to go back into the chassis. I should point out that the Buick’s chassis was also as-new; a new coat of paint was all that was needed.

The motor had been completely stripped down prior to my purchasing the car, but all the parts were present and correct — supplied in a good collection of boxes. Close examination of the engine parts revealed everything was in good condition, and I gained the impression this car had not done a great mileage and, as well, must have been fairly well looked after by previous owners.

I had new gudgeons fitted by an engine reconditioner and also purchased a new set of piston rings. These were fitted with the help of a mechanic friend, Garry Genet. We also honed the bores and spent some time fitting shims for both the main and big-end bearings. Time has proven Garry got everything right, as the motor runs extremely well.

The Buick’s powerplant is a six-cylinder engine of about 3.0 litres capacity, with valves of the overhead type. An interesting feature of this engine is that it is fitted with a non-detachable head. The valves are held in a cylindrical cage, inserted into the block and held in place with a locking ring.

To carry out a valve grind, all you have to do is compress the valve spring, move the push-rod to the side, unlock the ring and remove the valve, valve spring and the cage. You are then able to grind the valve. This feature was introduced by Buick engineers in 1903.

I have also made myself a vice I can use to lock onto the car’s running board with a clamp that holds the valve and seat. This allows me to grind a valve on the roadside if the need ever arises.

Reliable runner

My wife, Glenys, and I have now driven the Buick about 4830km, and it has performed very well. We drove from Christchurch to Mt Cook over the last Labour Weekend in order to attend the VCC South Canterbury Branch 50th Anniversary Rally. We completed the same run again this year to celebrate a 100 years since the first motor car was driven to Mt Cook in 1906. I have to say that after driving from Mt Cook to home in a single day, I was very pleased to dismount and grab a welcome cup of tea.

Both Glenys and myself have taken the Buick on numerous club rallies and enjoyed them all, mostly due to the reliability of the dear old soul. We also entered the car for the VCC Canterbury Branch Restoration of the Year, and were thrilled to receive the award for first place. On hearing of this, fellow club member and NZCC’s Christchurch correspondent, Trevor Stanley, invited me to enter the 2005 NZCC/Meguiar’s Classic Car of the Year competition. Both myself and Glenys were over the moon when Trevor later informed us our Buick had been awarded third equal. Trevor presented us with a handsome trophy that now takes pride of place on my desk. Thanks for all your help, Trevor.

To finish off my story, I should say my Buick Roadster was originally imported into New Zealand in 1918, and was one of only 275 such models built for export worldwide. To date, I have only been able to locate three of these other models in New Zealand.

At the time of its importation, the Buicks were priced in the higher end of the market. As well, with the end of WWI there were not that many people in New Zealand with the money to spend on motor vehicles — and it would follow that not many higher-cost cars would have been imported into our small country, way down at the end of the world. So both I and Glenys are proud to own this Buick
Words: Colin Rae, Photos: Sean Craig

The RNZAF strike wing may have disappeared, but Tim finds an early ’80s Skyhawk still going strong near the airport runway

When I think of Buicks I usually think of huge, ambling straight-eights from the era when gangsters had some semblance of style. There’s even imagery from the ’70s and early ’80s of long, sleek road cars, or the successful Buick Regal NASCARs of the early ’80s as run by Junior Johnson’s Mountain Dew team — with cut-back rear body styling and 358 cubes (5867cc) of bent eight. NASCAR historians refer to those years as the Buick Era, so successful was the marque on American ovals.

Buicks were represented not only by Johnson’s team — headed by Daryll Waltrip — but also by the fast Miller Beer-sponsored Buick Regal of Bobby Allison. These were the cars to beat in 1983.

However, my own imagery of big, bad Buicks was altered somewhat when I was recently invited to drive a relatively compact 1983 Buick Skyhawk Limited. This left-hooker is the only one of its kind I have seen thus far in New Zealand, as most imported Americans tend to be in the luxury or muscle car genres.

It is probably not surprising, then, that my first glance at this car as it passed me one day had me thinking early Holden Camira, until it drew closer. Indeed, the rear side area of this car has a certain GM family look of the period, confirmed when I hit the textbooks and viewed other small and similar GM cars such as the Chevrolet Chevette, Chevrolet Citation Coupe, Pontiac Phoenix and the Oldsmobile Omega Brougham.

All these downsized GM babies — as part of the company’s ’90 horsepower team’ — were available with the general’s reliable 2.4-litre (151ci) four-cylinder engine at a time when the world was going through one of its seemingly cyclic fuel crises. But as with the Chevy Citation, our featured 1983 Buick Skyhawk has the 2.0-litre engine mounted east-west and powering the front wheels, as if a certain Mr Issigonis had infiltrated the nightly dreams of Detroit’s designers.

Monza lineage

Owned by Mrs Kaye Southcombe, this Skyhawk indeed belongs to the ‘compacts’ like the Citation, but also has its origins in the earlier Skyhawk models which were versions of the Chevy Monza, as raced here in Godzone by Red Dawson. In fact the Buick Skyhawks of earlier 1980 vintage were just that, Chevy Monzas with different grille or frontal treatments and, at times, decorated B-pillars and added body trim to try and set them apart from the Monza.  Oldsmobile’s Starfire Firenza was a similar slope-backed badge-engineered Monza.But by 1983 Buick’s Skyhawk model had been downsized further so that it no longer resembled the Monza, and fitted into a less powerful but more economical niche than the 90hp (67kW) engine.

One of my own vehicles is an American V8 of the same era, so I was very keen to drive Kaye’s Skyhawk to see how what the USA referred to as ‘compacts’ would stack up against bigger American cruisers.

Kaye refers to the Skyhawk simply as a ‘ladies’ car’ because of its ease of driving and parking, with adequate power and refinement. She enjoys how she can shop and park anywhere in her home town, or whizz off to another city for the day without worry. ¨She has owned the car for 14 years, and has rarely had a problem with it.

Easy driver

At times Kaye rues the left-hand-drive aspect when wanting to overtake — something not helped by the Buick’s lack of up-front V8 grunt — but even though she is thinking of selling it after all these years, she is indeed enamoured of it and would be sorry to see it go, especially if it fell into the wrong hands.

I have to agree, because as soon as I sat in it, I noticed how clean and immaculate the interior is, with all its original badging and seating material intact. The three-speed automatic T-gearshift is a chunky box affair, based centrally below a stylish dash area which was still well ahead of what most Japanese or British cars of the era were offering. Tasteful in black, with some bespoke stitching that linked to both Buick’s more grandiose past and to the involvement of Fisher coachbuilders on these Limited versions, the Skyhawk was still standing up and claiming its Buick heritage.
The Skyhawk started without qualm, and I simply selected D for drive and moved away with a wave to Kaye.

On the open road I found acceleration to be lacking compared to modern punchy twin-cam 2.0-litre cars, but it was smooth and generally very quiet, with sound deadening and driver comfort paramount. If floored, the sturdy GM engine would certainly rise audibly but unobtrusively, but this isn’t a sports car and I was off to the shops and the airport to check out all-round driveability in a Reagan-era, Stateside classic.

Words and photos: Tim Chadwick