This home-built special aims to capture the spirit of vintage motoring.

To be perfectly honest, until recently I’d never really been able to get my head around the concept of building a ‘special’ – after all, isn’t there enough stuff around to restore? And, surely, there must be something that’s appealing without having to turn a pile of odds and sods lying around the garage into a home-made ride.

When mulling this subject over with Brian King, owner of the magnificent Alfriston Jaguar Special featured in these pages, he made a rather good point. The days of quality barn finds are more or less over, and while there are some restoration prospects hidden away – generally by people rarely prepared to part with them – in some cases they are barely worth the effort and expense of restoration, except that they are examples of what actually was manufactured and sold in the past and, in particular, ’30s British cars.

Brian’s main interest has been in the sort of vehicles which the British Vintage Sports Car Club was set up to preserve – high-end sports cars from revered manufacturers such as Bentley, Lagonda, Aston Martin and, in more modern times, from Lotus and Jaguar.

In Brian’s opinion, the pinnacle of vehicle styling arrived just before cars started being actually ‘styled’. Prior to that, almost everything on a vehicle was there for a practical purpose. ‘Flyaway’ mudguards and backward sloping radiators (streamlining) started the downward trend to what Brian thinks is the extreme ugliness of modern cars.

However, in Brian’s case, sought-after examples of what he refers to as ‘proper’ cars have always been way out of reach, even as basket cases; the cost of restoration nearly always exceeding the restored value, unless you have found something quite exceptional.

So, over the years Brian developed the idea of a vintage-style sports car using more modern components. This had advantages over the real thing in terms of availability, cost, and the reliability of components, while hopefully retaining the ambience and feel of the real thing. Also, for Brian, building new was a lot easier than restoring, allowing him the freedom to build his own creation rather than simply repair someone else’s creation. Another point to remember – and just as important – is the fact that Brian enjoys making things.

Home-Built Specials

My thought concerning home-built specials changed a few years ago whilst visiting Kaikoura for our South Island Special issue. During our visit, I caught up with a very passionate Australian, Bob Bell. You may remember the stories we featured about his wife’s gorgeous Morris Minor Woody, Bob’s unique garage and the Vault special. Bob’s Vault was based on an Alta, a race car built in the late ’20s and early ‘30s by Geoffrey Taylor with some degree of racing success in the UK. Bob’s version, however, boasted 1937 Vauxhall mechanicals and chassis, including the knee-action front end and the original cable brakes. Engine components consisted of Gemini valves and springs as well as Mini Cooper pistons connected to specially made alloy con rods, and a crankshaft courtesy of a Bedford and running on MGB bearings. The wire wheels were from a Jaguar SS100 and the matching instruments, early Jaguar items, were housed in an aluminium machine-turned dash. The name ‘Vault’, as you’ve probably gathered, is derived from contracting Vauxhall and Alta, although Bob pointed out that it’s also because of the amount of money he’d pumped into it.

My point is, this car is an absolute ‘bitza’ and I couldn’t take my eyes off it. The style, proportions and overall look just seemed to capture my imagination – and Brian King’s Jaguar Special worked the same magic.

Looking Back

Before Brian King built his AJS, he actually used to build horse-drawn vehicles called Alfriston Carriages. Growing up in the UK, he remembers from an early age – probably about eight or nine years old as he recalls –he had a keen interest in model aeroplanes, trains, cars and anything that was even remotely mechanical. He also constructed a model car out of his Meccano set and installed a 2.5cc diesel engine which, in retrospect, was probably the catalyst for his special passion.

When Brian left school he served his apprenticeship as a machinist fitter, our equivalent of a fitter and turner, and owned an old motorbike which he’d bought off his maths schoolmaster the day he left school. The motorbike hadn’t run for many years and had been lying derelict in the school woodwork shop for as long as Brian could remember. He ended up pushing it all the way home. As you can imagine he wasted no time in pulling the motorcycle to bits and completely rebuilding it.

Looking back, Brian also recalls the very first car he drove was an Austin Seven special, a car owned by an older friend. He drove the car around the old Crystal Palace circuit in South London without a licence – an absolute thrill for Brian and something he still vividly remembers today. With that in mind, it was no real surprise to learn that his first car was indeed a 1929 Austin Seven saloon. The Austin cost him £10 although, according to his father, he paid far too much. Over the next six or seven years Brian went on to own at least a dozen Austin Sevens as they got cheaper, down to about one pound. Even in the mid ’50s this was considered cheap motoring.

Brian’s life wasn’t completely consumed by Austins, as he also shared other interests with a 1931 Roesch Talbot and a Ford 8 van, and when he was demobbed from National Service as a radar mechanic, he pursued another of his long time dreams – to go motor racing.

His first foray in motor sport began with a 750 Formula car, which was based on – yes, you guessed it – an Austin Seven. Brian raced in the 750 class with what he reckons was “limited success”, however, he admits to having been one of the front-runners. The problem was he hardly ever finished, but had loads of fun nonetheless, which is what this level of motor racing was all about.

The Alfriston Express

By 1965 Brian was married and decided to emigrate to New Zealand – and the first thing he did was buy an Austin Seven, which was all he could afford at the time, so he says. In fact, he remembers paying £50 for his new pride and joy, which must have seemed exorbitant compared to UK prices. Brian kept that trusty Austin Seven for over seven years until a visitor from San Francisco spotted it and had to have it at any cost, as he’d never seen anything like it before.

Meanwhile, niggling away in the back of Brian’s mind was his dream of building a Jaguar special. The seed was sown back in the days when he raced in the 750 Formula class in the UK – he had a friend who’d built a Jaguar special that Brian had never forgotten.

Fast-forward to 2002 and Brian was looking to retire and settle into a suitable retirement project that would keep him out from under his wife’s feet.

The first step to realising his dream came when Brian wandered into a Jaguar wrecker and asked, tongue in cheek, “Do you have a set of Lucas P100 headlights?” He was half expecting they would either not know what he was talking about or, more than likely, didn’t have any of those vintage Lucas units in stock. Much to Brian’s amazement, after a fair bit of rummaging and searching around, the owner finally re-appeared with a pair of very dusty, but perfectly preserved P100 headlights, complete with unmarked glass. Brian, somewhat shocked at this stage, had no option but to say that he’d take them. This was the start of his AJS project, and the next year or so was spent collecting as many parts as possible.

During this time Brian found Andros Jason from Jaguar Spares in Onehunga to be extremely helpful and sympathetic to what he was trying to achieve with the AJS, by providing constructive advice on the best parts to use. When certain hard-to-get parts would arrive, Andros put them aside and advised Brian when the parts were in stock.

Once Brian had most of the parts he thought he’d need for the project he set about arranging them on the floor of his garage in roughly the position he thought they would go, and sat himself somewhere in the middle of it all and chalked a plan on the floor. A simple but effective method.

However, the challenge for Brian was to construct the chassis before the chalk outline disappeared (gee, I love these stories). Brian then literally worked from the front to the back – constructing the front end, suspension, cross-member, axle and dumb irons. The brakes are standard Jaguar MkVII components, the front axle is from a Sherpa van and the fuel fillers are ex-Ford D Series truck items.

Ironically, the length of the car wasn’t a carefully calculated mathematical equation; Brian reckons the length of the AJS was more or less determined by the fact that he’d run out of parts, and that’s where it ended up.

Brian installed a 4.2-litre Jaguar twin cam, six-cylinder XK engine and Moss four-speed gearbox complete with Laycock electric over-drive. The rear suspension consists of quarter elliptic springs and a Jaguar MkI axle and, once the rolling chassis was completed, Brian turned his attention to the body.

Learning the Skills

Before attempting the bodywork, Brian attended a panel-beating course at Manukau Tech. The course didn’t turn Brian into a skilled panel-beater by any stretch of the imagination, but it did provide him with the necessary basic skills and principles of metal work and fabrication. The first body-related project for Brian was the grille, which he had three attempts at before finally getting it right. The body style for the AJS was chosen for its simplicity, keeping compound curves to a minimum, limiting them to the grille and the boot lid. It wasn’t until Brian had almost completed the body that he realised that, in fact, it was easier to perfect compound curves than it was to construct flat panels and simple curves flawlessly.

Once the bodywork was completed, Brian prepared it for painting. He went to extraordinary lengths to minimise dust by constructing a polythene tent in his garage, and even though he wetted the floors to stop dust rising, he ended up painting the car’s body four times. The paint still wasn’t what Brian was expecting due to dust issues, and out of sheer frustration he finally employed the help of professionals to complete the job.

Once the body was finally painted it was married up to the chassis and bolted down by 10 bolts. The interior was the next project, and Brian managed to secure a couple of very nice Austin 1300 front seats from a local wrecker and modified the backs slightly to fit the AJS. All the dash gauges are from a MkI Jaguar, with the exception of the ammeter and the high stop-light, both courtesy of Daimler.

In 2006 the Alfriston Jaguar Special was registered, and Brian enjoys driving it whenever possible. He has some reservations about wet weather driving because not only does the rain sting his face, but he also reckons he gets completely saturated, more so than riding his vintage motorcycle in the rain.

To date Brian has attended many events, including Classic Trials at Pukekohe, Hampton Downs and Taupo race-tracks and also the Manukau Flying 50 a few years ago – his driving style can only be described as spirited, and he’s certainly not afraid of giving the AJS its head.

So, what’s next? Brian pointed out the AJS is indeed a work in progress, and he plans several tasks to handle on it over this coming winter. Although this is more tweaking than anything, Brian wants to ensure he remedies the car’s poor brakes as they’re definitely not suitable for track application, nor is the cooling system which tends to blow water onto the track. Other winter jobs will include attending to the engine breather, and preventing the front springs from bending under braking. Brian also thinks that there’s an issue with the way the car tracks over uneven surfaces – he think this is probably a tyre issue but worth investigating nonetheless.

By next summer we look forward to seeing Brian and his Alfriston Jaguar Special out and about – this is one very special Kiwi-built car, that’s for sure.

Words: Ashley Webb Photos: Adam Croy

This article is from NZ Classic Car issue 247. Click here to check it out.

Dr Nick Cooper — more commonly known as ‘Dr Nick’ — and his Valiant Charger are veterans of no less than seven consecutive Targas.

Dr Nick’s affair with Valiants goes all the way back to the ’70s, when he first purchased a Valiant Ranger, partly due to a magazine article he’d read which stated that these cars had plenty of power, went forever and even made the owners feel big. However, when Nick got around to buying a Valiant, the Ranger proved to be too large for Nick to park around town so he opted for the Valiant Charger E55 instead, as it measured in at around 450mm shorter and was a lot easier to manoeuvre into tight city parking spots.

The E55 package, which included Chrysler’s 5.57-litre (340ci) V8 engine, was also a bonus as far as Nick was concerned. At the time he also owned a C4 Corvette, but as it left hand drive, which he didn’t really enjoy, he decided to sell the ’Vette and keep the Charger as his daily driver. Nick still drives the same Charger today. In fact, at the Fathers’ Day Drags, hosted by the American Muscle Car Club, Nick ran a respectable 13.3 seconds for the quarter-mile; not bad for a classic car.

Hooked on Targa

One of Nick’s favourite TV programmes each year was televised highlights of the Dunlop Targa NZ, which he watched religiously year after year. He decided that it looked so much fun he just had to take the plunge and enter Targa himself. As he had been driving a Valiant since the ’70s, and knew his way around them, it seemed like the obvious choice, so he bought a Charger off one of his patients.

He considered sticking with the stock six-cylinder engine but thought they were obsolete, so decided to go with a V8 as they are still well supported and performance parts are easy to obtain. The increased power on offer from the V8 made Nick’s decision an easy one to make.

Nick set out to build an E55 Charger replica, which meant he had to find a 5.57-litre (340ci) V8 engine and a manual gearbox, as most E55s had automatic transmissions.

Finding the correct engine for this project was easier said than done, as 340 blocks were only used from 1968 to 1972 and they’re virtually impossible to find in original condition. Nick knew that Chrysler had started re-producing these blocks, so he imported a new factory 340 casting.

The remanufactured blocks have been made significantly stronger than the original items, with extra metal around the lifter galleries and, with four bolt mains, they are rated to make up to 485kW (650bhp). Nick chose to use ported Edelbrock aluminium heads with 2.02 inlet valves, and 1.6 exhausts.

It was going to require expensive specialised machining to fit roller lifters because the tie bars foul the block, so the engine was fitted with solid lifters and a flat tappet cam. The inlet manifold is a high performance Edelbrock Air-Gap unit with a four-barrel 850cfm Quick Fuel carburettor mounted on top, whilst spark is controlled by a standard Chrysler distributor with a MSD 6AL electronic ignition chipped to cut out at 7000rpm.

Smokin’

Once up and running, Nick discovered that this beast was losing oil pressure on hard cornering, so wisely decided to ‘dry sump’ the engine. A scavenger pump was fitted to the left of the block and the oil tank was mounted in the boot, which also helps cool the engine, and removes air bubbles from the oil. The remote piping runs down beside the passenger and works very well as a heater. Nick had a slight heart-stopping moment when the front fell off the scavenger pump halfway through a Targa stage last year. He managed to cruise through the rest of the stage with no oil pressure and a huge cloud of smoke trailing behind, but amazingly there was no engine damage. Once the pump was back together they continued racing — “Good old V8s,” says Nick, “They just keep on going.”

Of course, all this power needs to be kept down to a reasonable operating temperature, so the biggest possible aluminium radiator that would fit in front of the engine was installed, along with a rather large electric fan for optimum cooling.

When it came to picking a cog-box, initially Nick chose a Borg Warner single rail four-speed gearbox utilising the standard Valiant clutch set-up. Alas, neither could cope with the engine’s immense power, so the clutch was upgraded to a twin plate unit as used in V8 touring cars. This sits in a bell housing fabricated from the front section of a 904 Chrysler automatic gearbox welded to a flat mounting plate. The four-speed ’box was also upgraded to a Jerico top-loader unit with straight-cut gears and no synchromesh. Gear changes are clutch-less.

The technique is to match the revs and bang it through. Nick reckons he’s used to it now, but the first time he changed gears it made such a bad noise he stopped the car expecting to see a pile of hot oil and metal on the road behind him. This gearbox has now weathered three gruelling Targa events and, when stripped down last year, showed absolutely no signs of wear.

The original diff/ axle assembly, a Borg Warner unit, was strengthened as much as possible but that ended up being a hopeless exercise as the axles snapped like carrots. Nick then upgraded it to a Strange 31-spline, nine-inch unit that lasted a grand total of only four days before the gear carrier split in half. It was then upgraded with a modular unit, and there have been no further problems.

Handling the Pace

Racing such a large, heavy car requires some serious consideration when it comes to handling, and Nick has spared no expense getting things in order. The suspension joints have all been replaced with elliptical ball units, and the shock absorbers are special order Konis. The car has been lowered 51mm with lowering blocks in the back, and by winding down the torsion bars in the front. The torsion bars and rear springs are heavy-duty units with a very stiff, after market anti-sway bar up the front, and a Commodore unit fitted to the rear axle.

There is also a bar running off the top of the diff to join onto the back of the roll-cage to help locate the rear axle and stop wind-up. The braking department is taken care of courtesy of Wilwood four-piston front and twin-piston rear callipers and vented discs.

The steering is a standard Valiant-powered unit, although the valving has been tweaked in an attempt to increase road feel. The pulley of the driveshaft has also been reduced in diameter to stop the alternator and power steering units blowing apart at high revs. Unfortunately, this caused the power steering pump to give up the ghost when the revs fell, which proved to be somewhat disconcerting when half-way through a corner. A Toyota MR2 electric power steering pump was then installed, operating the power steering box from the boot. The boot also houses the Carter high volume electric fuel pump and the battery.

The finishing touches to this Mopar muscle machine include racing harnesses, race seats, and fire extinguisher.

When Nick bought the car there were miles of dodgy wiring, which meant that all the fuses would blow whenever he touched the brake pedal. He competed his first Targa using the handbrake and gears to slow down. Since then he has attacked the wiring several times and it is trouble-free now.

Targa Tales

Nick has had a few exciting moments over the years competing in Targa, such as during his second year when he completely overcooked the mighty Charger going around a corner in the wilds of Taranaki. The car bounced off the bank and slid down the road on its door handles. They managed to push it back on its wheels and drove off, but it definitely needed a wheel alignment, not to mention a good cut and polish.

Nick and his team were fortunate enough to hook up with Steve Hildred of Central Muscle Car fame, a very clever mechanic, who got the Charger up and running that very night and has continued to assist in upgrading the car over the years.

In last year’s Targa, the Charger’s alternator died on the last day. It was pouring with rain, and fogged up windows inside the car were already making driving somewhat hazardous. No power meant no lights, demist fan, wipers, ignition, power steering, or electric fuel pump. Nick managed to limp through a couple of stages on batteries taken out of various support vehicles before the fuel pump split, creating a rather dangerous situation when the boot filled with petrol. Miraculously, the final stage was cancelled so they pushed the car across the finish line to win their class, Unmodified Classic!

Just to prove that classic cars never die, Nick took the Charger to Pukekohe race track recently to sort out a braking issue and informed us that he was getting around in one minute, six seconds, and clocking 235kph down the back straight — that’s not bad for an old Charger. But don’t forget Dr Nick’s road-going Charger can trundle down Meremere drag strip in 13.3 seconds at 172.19kph (107mph) — which must be great help when he’s making an emergency house call.

Words: Ashley Webb Photos: Dan Wakelin

Given our fondness for the ‘special’, it’s not surprising that Kiwis have a huge choice when it comes to selecting a NZ-made kit car

Many of our local manufacturers have gained international renown for the quality of their cars. Almac Cobras are recognised all over the world, no mean feat as the Cobra is one of the most replicated cars of all time. Alternative Cars’ T-Car has earned many international accolades for its exemplary fit and finish, while the Le Mans-inspired Saker SV series cars have achieved notable European successes with its own racing series.

Mind you, when it comes to kit cars it’s hard to go past Colin Chapman’s legendary Lotus 7 — and replicas of these back-to-basics sports cars are seemingly produced in all parts of the world. In this, New Zealand is no exception, and Lotus-inspired cars are available from a number of local manufacturers.

While Fraser Cars are probably the best-known producer of Lotus 7-style clubman cars (click here for a full feature on Fraser Cars), other notable vehicles are the Leitch Super Sprint and the Chevron Classic, both of which have been on the market for many years. Chevron has also branched out into less basic cars — the Aprisa and the Cypher.

Although probably best known for its Cobra replicas, Almac Cars also produces the very cost effective Clubsprint and Clubsprint XL. New kid on the block in this arena is McGregor Motorsport of Christchurch, which also produces splendid Lotus 7-style clubman sports cars, ranging from relatively mild four-cylinder twin-cam variants right out to a wild, V8-powered confection.

With a different take on the more traditional clubman formula, Redline Performance Cars offers a car inspired by the Lola-Climax MkI — a swoopy, enclosed-wheel sports car that evokes a keen sense of ’60s design allied to modern levels of performance and handling.

For those who value style over sheer performance, it’s hard to go past the T-Car — one of New Zealand’s most popular and best-established kit cars. Taking inspiration from the classic T-Series MGs, the T-Car offers traditional sports car styling for those who want to stand out from the crowd. The MkVI version of the T-Car features modern mechanicals — from the Mazda MX-5 — which allows for no-fuss classic motoring.

And the choice doesn’t end there, as those looking for the perfect reproduction are also well served. As an instance, down in Dunedin Coventry Classics hand-builds superb Jaguar C-Types based on the original factory designs. The finished cars are simply stunning, and the nearest thing you could get to a genuine factory C-Type.

Tempero Coach & Motor Works also operates in the world of bespoke reproduction cars and, as well as its world-famous D-Type replicas, it has fashioned nut-and-bolt perfect reproductions of cars such as the amazing, mid-engined Jaguar XJ13 and the classic Ferrari TR250.

On the same list you’ll also see Classic Car Developments of Invercargill, which produces craftsman-built C-Type and Ford GT40 replicas. The GT40, meticulously built by Dave Brown, differs from many other similar cars in that it features a full monocoque body, just like the originals.

However, if you want maximum flash for your cash it’s hard to overlook the Countess — a stunning reproduction of Lamborghini’s famously over-the-top Countach. Made in Feilding by Countess Mouldings, the Countess is a surprisingly faithful reproduction and can be built in almost any form — from a perfectly manageable road car to a wild, fire-breathing competition vehicle.

Additionally, New Zealand boasts a number of specialised crasftmen such as Sam Lyle, Ray Larsen and Allan Bowden, all of whom are capable of producing spectacular, one-off creations — as evidenced by our continuing series of features detailing Classicar Restorations’ Ferrari 250GT0 replica.

New Zealand may be a small country, but the choice of locally made cars is huge — while the quality is world class. Do your research, check them out and make your choice — whatever you choose you won’t be disappointed.

Alternative Cars Ltd
Russell Hooper
PO Box 13 207, Onehunga, Auckland
Ph 021 939 436
Email:  hooper.russell@gmail.com
www.sportscars.co.nz

• The home of the T-Car, probably the most numerous NZ-made kit car ever. Cast in the mould of traditional MG sports cars of the ’50s, the current T-Car MkVI boasts a purpose-built chassis housing predominantly Mazda MX-5 mechanicals.

Chevron Engineering
5 Hewlett Road, Massey, Auckland
Ph 09 833 4640/fax 09 833 4793
Email: evan@chevron.co.nz
www.chevron.co.nz

• There are three models on offer; the Classic Lotus 7-style sports car; the enclosed wheel Aprisa specifically designed for club racing; and the advanced Kevlar/carbon fibre-bodied Cypher, a fully enclosed, V8-powered sports car for road and track use.

Almac Cars 25th Anniversary
Almac Cars is celebrating 25 years of continuous production of its 427SC Cobra replica. These cars have been exported to countries all over the world, but the majority have been self-built by enthusiasts around New Zealand. With a strong order book, demand is still strong.

Almac has recently begun work on Almac Cobra #1 — which has been almost finished a number of times but cannibalised for parts over the years. This time there is a determination to complete the car, which is now fitted with a Ford 351 V8, Jaguar rear end and Torana/HQ front suspension
and steering.

It should not be forgotten that, as well as its Cobra 427C, Almac produces the in house-styled Sabre — now in S2 form — and two variations of a Lotus 7-style car, the Clubsprint and the new Clubsprint XL, a completely redesigned version of the older Clubsprint with a wider, longer and deeper chassis to accommodate a range of engines, including a Rover V8. The Clubsprint XL utilises a Mazda MX-5 as a donor car.

We had hoped to road-test Almac Cars’ Clubsprint XL demonstrator for this issue but, alas, the car was not finished in time. Hopefully we’ll get onto to it later this year.
All Almac cars can be supplied as kits to any stage of build, up to a finished turnkey vehicle.

Almac Cars
PO Box 40 483
Nicolaus Street
Upper Hutt
Wellington
Ph 04 528 8680/ fax 04 528 8680
Email: almaccars@paradise.net.nz
www.almac.co.nz

Countess Mouldings
314 Halcombe Road, RD5 Feilding
RD 5, Feilding, Manawatu
Ph 06 323 4935/fax 06 323 4931
Email: countess@inspire.net.nz

• The Countess is one of the world’s best recognised Lamborghini Countach replicas.

Classic Car Developments
17 Howarth Street, Invercargill
Ph/fax 03 215 6893

• Hand-built Jaguar C-Type and full monocoque Ford GT40 replicas.

Coventry Classics
Taieri Airport, 58 Stedman Road
PO Box 147, Mosgiel 9053, Dunedin
Ph 03 489 6870/fax 03 489 6820
Email:  mark@southair.co.nz
www.coventry-classics.com

• Gorgeous, alloy-bodied reproductions of the C-Type built to Jaguar’s original design. The cars are constructed using modified Jaguar MkVII/XK120 components or parts fabricated from raw materials to the original design — the way Jaguar made them back in the ’50s.

DRB Sports Cars
Ph 021 217 6596
Email: nshirley@xtra.co.nz

• Cobra and GT40 replicas.

Leitch Motorsport & Restoration Ltd
44 McIvor Road, RD6 Invercargill
Ph 03 215 9791/fax 03 215 9891
Email: b.leitch@ex.co.nz
www.leitchmotorsport.com

• Leitch Super Sprint; Lotus 7-style sports car.

McGregor Motorsport Ltd
44 Broad Street, Woolston, Christchurch
Ph 03 388 3838
www.mcgregormotorsport.co.nz

• Lotus 7-style sports cars, including wild V8-powered versions.

Turnbull Engineering
11 Dixons Line, Bunnythorpe
PO Box 9, Bunnythorpe
Ph 06 329 2923/fax: 06 329 2923
Email: tull@inspire.net.nz
www.saker.com

• Saker — a Le Mans inspired open or closed sports car for road and race.

Tempero Coach & Motor Works
Ira Cohen
Ph 03 434 9869/fax 03 434

• Bespoke, hand-made replicas — including Aston Martin, Jaguar and Ferrari.

This article is from NZ Classic Car issue 221. Click here to check it out.

What does it take to build your own Fraser? We talk to an enthusiast who built his own car

When Gary Cullen told me he was a retired RNZAF electronics and avionics engineer it didn’t at all surprise me that his Fraser Clubman was indeed a masterpiece, carefully constructed by him over a two-year period.

Gary has always had a liking for classic cars, but diverse priorities such as family, mortgages and other commitments stifled his passion for many years.

Then about three years ago, when Gary was attending a family function at a country restaurant in Warkworth, a group of Fraser Clubmans arrived and parked up under the trees. Gary couldn’t resist the urge to stroll over and take a look at the cars and eventually got chatting to one of the owners. They became so engrossed in conversation that they both almost completely missed out on lunch with their respective groups, something we can all probably relate to. By the time Gary had finished his conversation he was pretty much hooked on the idea of buying a Fraser Clubman.

A few months later, after some serious consideration and considerable number crunching, Gary phoned Fraser Cars for more information and asked to be sent further literature on the Clubman.

After reading through all the information, he decided he would build as much of his Clubman as possible himself, and based on Neil Fraser’s advice started to collect all the necessary components for the project, such as engine, gearbox, front uprights, differential and rear wheel assemblies. Once these items were decided then Gary could chose the options necessary for the Clubman kit.

Choosing the Options

Gary opted for the Toyota 4A-GE 20-valve silver-top 1600cc engine, T50 gearbox, Nissan Silvia S13 LSD and de Dion set up. The de Dion is a sophisticated form of non-independent suspension, and is a considerable improvement over the alternative swing axle and Hotchkiss drive types. The de Dion suspension utilises universal joints at both the wheel hubs and differential, and uses a solid tubular beam to hold the opposite wheels in parallel. Unlike an anti-roll bar, a de Dion tube is not directly connected to the chassis, nor is it intended to flex.

Gary selected a wide track front suspension set-up with internally mounted springs and shocks, which he says gives a cleaner, streamlined look to the front.

At this point Gary ordered his Fraser Clubman kit, and chose the polished aluminium panels complemented by painted fibreglass front and rear guards and nose cone.

Gary had the Toyota engine completely reconditioned, with many external parts cleaned and plated in preparation for the kit to arrive.

Kit Arrival

In August 2006 Gary took delivery of his Fraser Clubman kit, which arrived with all the body panels attached. The differential housing was also mounted in place, a procedure that avoids scratching or damaging the powder coated chassis. This enabled Gary to assemble all the suspension components, including brake rotors and callipers followed by hydraulic lines and electrical wiring looms. He meticulously fabricated all the fuel lines and mounted the fuel tank into position before finally positioning the engine, gearbox and driveshaft into place.

The striking colour Gary decided on to complement the aluminium panels was royal navy blue, with 20 per cent pearl applied by his eldest son, Richard, which really suits the cars sporty lines. Gary tells me that in his early RNZAF years he remembers polishing external aluminium aircraft panels by hand, which is probably why this Fraser Clubman literally glistens so much that it’s difficult to look at in direct sunlight. At this stage only the dash, instruments and interior items needed completion before the car headed back to Fraser Cars for final upholstery.

Gary finished his Fraser Clubman in October 2008 and had it certified and ready for the road later that month.

You will no doubt have noticed that Gary has kept strictly to the ‘silver top’ theme, starting from the engine and aluminium body panels to the classic ’30s Bugatti-style miniature rose-patterned dash, complete with Smiths’ instruments and woodgrain steering wheel — and right down to the personalised plate.

Walking around Gary’s Clubman it takes a while to completely absorb the finer detail and commitment to perfection everywhere you look.

Naturally, he is still getting used to his Clubman, and recently travelled to the Fraser Car Club’s track day at Taupo, which he described as just awesome. He believes this circuit outing gave him the opportunity to learn much about his car’s unique handling characteristics whilst being able to stretch not only himself but the car’s limitations in the relative safety of a race track environment — if only more people were this sensible.

Words: Ashley Webb Photos: Dan Wakelin

This article is from NZ Classic Car issue 221. Click here to check it out.

We take a tour through the Fraser Cars factory and grab the chance to road test one of its iconic sports cars.

The Fraser Clubman was born in 1988, a vision of the company’s founder, Neil Fraser. Initially Neil built a sports car for himself inspired by the legendary Lotus 7 — a car which would quickly generate an enthusiastic response amongst the local sports car fraternity. It was this interest that was the catalyst for the birth of Fraser Cars. The company was immediately successful, building complete turnkey Clubman sports cars, as well as supplying them in kit form to aspiring owners who were keen to build their own unique car. Naturally, Neil was there to assist every step of the way if and when his expertise was required.

It didn’t take too long before a group of Fraser Clubman enthusiasts formed their own club in support of the marque — testament to Neil’s vision and superb engineering skills. The Fraser Car Club is currently very active, and participates in everything from track days to leisurely cruises as often as possible.

When visiting the company recently to gather information for this article, I got talking to a very proud owner who had just driven his Fraser all the way from Nelson to Auckland after stopping and participating in the Fraser Car Club’s track day at Taupo along the way. He had built his car himself and had, in fact, squeezed a Mazda V6 engine into the narrow engine compartment — which he said provided exhilarating performance. The car looked fabulous, as it boasted a combination of polished alloy and carbon-fibre body components, one of the many options available from Fraser Cars.

Rising Sun

It wasn’t just Kiwi sport car lovers who took a shine to the Fraser Clubman, as an agent was appointed in Japan to cater for the increasing interest in the open-air sportster.
Neil started exporting Clubmans to Japan in the early’90s and, so far, approximately 140 have made their way to Japanese owners.

Neil was always looking for new ideas, and continued to experiment with different designs for other cars as well as ensuring that the Clubmans were built to the highest standards and finish available. Neil eventually built a Le Mans-style sports car, which he intended to add to the Fraser Cars line-up. However, only one was ever built and it ended up in the USA — although the owner, I believe, still keeps in touch with the factory.

Fraser Cars has also been involved in several one-off projects, adding extensive knowledge and engineering expertise to replicas of such cars such as a 962 Porsche, AC Cobras and Lotus 7s.

The New Team

Scott Tristram joined the team at Fraser Cars in 2002 as a chassis builder, and enjoyed it so much he ended up purchasing the company from Neil Fraser in 2006. Since then Scott has continued to follow in Neil’s footsteps; offering a first class product while sustaining continual growth.

Scott now employs a small team of three full-time skilled craftsmen, all dedicated to producing not only Fraser Clubmans, but also one-off projects including custom fabrication projects for hot rods. This is an area Scott sees as a significant growth opportunity for his business. In addition, Scott has also continued to export cars overseas to Japan and, more recently, Australia, and he hopes that at current exchange rates this trend will allow the company to prosper, especially as Fraser Cars has built an outstanding reputation for soundly designed, solidly constructed and well-built sports cars.

To date, a total of 316 cars have left Fraser Cars’ Auckland facility, either fully constructed or in kit set form ready for the new owners to assemble.

Fraser Cars offers a whole pile of option packages which cater for all types of builders — from those with limited skills to those with more advanced engineering abilities. With various engine, transmission and suspension packages along with body and interior options, dependent upon budget, Scott can supply the parts for the home-builder to make anything from a wild, fire-breathing track car to a relatively docile Sunday cruiser, and virtually anything in between. All parts are supplied to each individual’s specifications.

Scott reiterated that Fraser Cars is totally committed to manufacturing the highest quality cars possible by adopting the latest in manufacturing processes and safety standards. All completed cars are fully low volume certified and built to current New Zealand regulations.

Behind the Wheel

As luck would have it, on the day of our visit Scott had Fraser Cars’ brand new Clubman demonstrator sitting in the workshop and, as I had never driven anything like this before, now seemed as good a time as any to get behind the wheel. Walking around the Clubman, I thought how good it looked in white. Scott commented that he hadn’t seen one in that colour scheme before, and decided to go for something a little different. This was basically a standard model of the Clubman, as Scott thought that a modified version might be more harmful as a promotional vehicle, especially for those that weren’t used to such a car — like me!

My initial reaction was how on earth was I ever going to squeeze into this thing. Actually, given the fact that the Clubman is completely open, getting my backside onto the custom-built leather driver’s seat was a lot easier than I thought. The long narrow footwell was perfect for my gangly legs although I did have to remove my shoes, as more appropriate footwear is required due to the limited space around the pedals. Once the full harness seat belts were secured I actually felt surprisingly comfortable — with oodles of room to stretch out, just the way I like it.

With Scott buckled in beside me we were ready to hit the road. The Toyota 4A-GE 20-valve black-top engine sounded quite sporty, and was beautifully responsive through the rev range as I headed off, changing up through the T50 five-speed gearbox.

One of the first things you notice when driving a Fraser Clubman is how low to the ground you are, sort of like driving a street-legal go-kart. The Fraser felt fairly solid and robust for such an intricately engineered car and, because I wasn’t used to driving such a vehicle, I found being able to see the front suspension travel and the guards bobbing up and down quite disconcerting. As we headed out on to Auckland’s Northern motorway it gave me a chance to really appreciate what the Clubman is all about — limpet-like road-holding, responsive steering and pin-point handling.

Superb performance combined with open air and a fine day — what more could you possibly want?

Words: Ashley Webb Photos: Dan Wakelin

This article is from NZ Classic Car issue 221. Click here to check it out.

What do you do if you want your own CanAm racer but can’t afford an original? Well, if you’re Russell Keach you simply build your own

There’s a reason why, during the golden age of motor sport, Kiwi mechanics were held in such high regard within international racing circles — years of intrusive government legislation in New Zealand meant that only a few Kiwis could ever get their hands on up-to-date vehicles, especially when it came to specialised motor racing machinery. As a result, Kiwis learned how to adapt and modify out-dated cars or, in some cases, became hands-on builders to produce their own road-going and racing specials.

These days, of course, no such obstacles exist, but many New Zealanders still love the challenge of modifying cars, or take great satisfaction from building their own cars from scratch. This manner of thinking — ‘if I can’t afford to buy an original; well, I’ll simply build my own out of what is available’ — is one of the foundation stones of the much lauded Kiwi No8 wire philosophy.

There is little doubt that Russell Keach has taken this philosophy to heart. A long-standing member of the Hirepool management team, Russell has always been passionate about cars and, more recently, has adapted the proverbial No8 wire way of thinking to making a unique statement by building his own car.

The Starting Point

Like all potential specials builders, Russell’s initial entry into the field was modest. During the late ’70s he had built go-karts and, many years, later, he slotted a 4A-GE twin-cam engine into a rear-wheel drive Toyota Starlet. These were fruitful beginnings, arming Russell with some useful skill-sets. The Starlet, however, wouldn’t last — as a middle-aged man in a hot-hatch, Russell soon tired of being referred to as a ‘geriatric boy racer’ and the Toyota was eventually sold — presumably to a much younger driver.

With those experiences under his belt, Russell turned back towards his long abiding passion for classic race cars. Initially, he thought about building a Lotus 23B — and even got so far as to find a genuine car and measure its vital dimensions. However, the more Russell thought about the 23B, the more he came to realize that he really didn’t care too much for its shape. He briefly considered building a Cobra or Ford GT40, but replicas of these cars were virtually 10-a-penny — he wanted to build something different. It was at this point that he remembered the slot-cars he had raced as a boy in the ’60s and, in particular, the scratch-built McLaren M8B he had once spent many hours pounding around his home ‘circuit.’

From the start, Russell knew he had neither the tools or the skills to replicate the M8B’s monocoque chassis, but the idea was now circulating through his head and, as he examined the Lotus 23B, he began to understand how its basic design could be made to work in different applications. At first, the thought of designing a car’s suspension system, complete with anti-dive, anti-roll and anti-squat geometry, seemed insurmountable.

It seemed too complex but, after examining the front suspension set-up on a Beattie Clubman at a local race meeting, Russell realised that simplicity was the key — after all, the Beatties performed well on the track. Sparked with fresh enthusiasm, Russell began examining Lotus 7 technical drawings — they also featured a straightforward, uncomplicated suspension design and everyone knew that 7s handled as if they were glued to the road.

With the fresh inspiration provided by the above, he embarked on a preliminary learning exercise — one designed to refresh the welding skills he had acquired building go-karts in the ’70s.

Russell’s self-imposed exercise involved building a Lotus 7 as a practice run for the construction of his dream car. Progress was swift, and a Lotus 7-style chassis soon began to take shape in his home garage. In fact, Russell was so happy with the chassis that he decided not to go any further, and build a complete car. Convinced that he could make the grade, the chassis was sold and he moved onto the next step.

The CanAm Tribute Project

At this point, it’s worth noting that — despite his kart-building and the Starlet project — Russell is neither a mechanic or engineer. He has never worked within the automotive industry and has received no formal training in any of the disciplines required to design and build a fully functional car.

What he did have, though, was determination, seemingly infinite patience and a keen eye for technical efficiency.

As well, being effectively an outsider to the rarefied world of motor sport, Russell could not simply conjure up a complete set of technical drawing for a CanAm car— and, in New Zealand, there was no chance that he’d be able to find a genuine car over which he could run his tape measure. So how did he solve the problem?

The answer was remarkably uncomplicated — Russell simply ordered a 1:18 die-cast model of a McLaren M8B from the US. That model would provide him with the basic dimensions and shape of the car — it was just a case of scaling everything up by a factor of 18.

If that sounds daunting, bear in mind Russell’s lack of engineering training. And yet he was convinced that basing his project on a diminutive model was do-able. Now, that’s the Kiwi spirit!
On Christmas Eve, 2003, Russell laid down the bottom sections of the chassis on his work table and estimated that his replica would be up and running within 18 months to two years. In point of fact, his ambitious project would take five years to reach completion.

Using dimensions taken directly from the model, Russell set out the bulkheads, the wheel base and the relevant chassis widths. There was never any intention to fit a ‘genuine’ CamAm big-block engine into his car — a full-house 6997cc Chevrolet V8, as used by McLaren, was way beyond Russell’s budget. As such, his original plan was to slot a Mondeo V6 motor into the car so that he could keep all his measurements metric. That plan soon went out the door when, at every race meeting, he could hear the throb of a V8.

Russell briefly looked at the Lexus V8 but eventually settled on using a Rover 3.5-litre V8 — which would be much lighter than the Lexus unit and more in period with the era his car would pay tribute to. The light-alloy Rover V8, with significantly less power than the 507kW (680bhp) engines used by McLaren during its CanAm heyday, would also be easier on the car’s gearbox — bearing in mind that Russell certainly wouldn’t be considering a Hewland LG400.

His next step was to acquire an old Rover V8 which he could use as a construction dummy. It would also allow him to figure out an adaptor plate to mate the V8 to the transmission he had chosen — a five-speed 013 transaxle donated by a 1987 Audi GT. Jeff Bruce at Precision Engineering in Albany was very patient with Russell, and helped him to understand what was required in designing an adaptor plate. Using Geoff’s advice, Russell set about measuring and constructing a suitable plate, which took in the ramifications of clutch and pressure plate and of fitting a starter motor.

Jeff came up with the clever idea of running the Rover’s standard ring gear set in a recess within the adaptor plate. This also enabled Russell to run the standard starter motor, and he ended up using a modified auto ring gear, as these were plentiful. Typical of Jeff’s workmanship, the final flywheel and adaptor plate are works of art.

Autoclutch Ltd of Auckland sorted out the pressure plate and, at this stage, Russell was able to fit the motor and transmission assembly into his chassis. However, it wasn’t going to be that easy.

Given that a genuine M8B would have been fitted with a monster 7.0-litre Chevrolet V8, Russell was surprised when the more compact Rover assembly did not fit. Off came the water pump and all the pulleys on the front of the harmonic balancer, the chassis bulkhead got some alterations and finally the assembly fitted. Much head scratching followed, with the final solution being provided by a small Daihatsu alternator and a Nissan water pump driven off the back of the balancer. The local Pick-A-Part provided a pile of pulleys for Russell to play with — and he ended up with a multi-groove Subaru bottom crank pulley and some other bits which allowed him to make up a belt which drove all the engine functions.

Suspension and Body

With the car’s driveline finally fitted, Russell turned his attention to designing the suspension set-up and working out the placement of the mounts. All the front wishbones were fabricated, tacked up and sent to Fraser Cars for TIG welding as they needed to be perfect. By this stage word was getting around about Russell’s project, and this interest in what he was doing provided even more inspiration.

Next on his list was sorting the car’s steering rack, and a donated Ford Escort quick-rack was the basis of the final creation. The length of the rack was determined and a new shaft cut by Auckland Gear Cutters in Panmure. Mazda-type tie-rods were threaded into the ends, and the rack was also made to he height adjustable. Pick-A-Part armed Russell with an assortment of Toyota Starlet and Corolla steering shafts so he could select the right unit for the job — his final choice being a collapsible shaft mounted to a quick release steering wheel boss, all attached to a custom adaptor on the Escort rack.

Although he would have like pendant floor pedals, the car’s low height and the location of the steering rack meant that Russell would have to use floor-mounted pedals. Determined to stick to a tight budget, he built a custom pedal box which would be mounted behind the steering rack, using rods to activate the brakes and clutch cylinders mounted in front of the steering rack.

With the main mechanical units installed, Russell began to consider the car’s body. Once again, to keep costs to a minimum he knew that he would build his own body buck and make his own moulds. However, at this stage Walter Wing suggested Russell check out the Gemco moulds — the Gemco Special was an M8B look-alike built in New Zealand in 1971.

Taking Walter’s suggestion on board, Russell looked back through his old photo albums and discovered a photograph he’s taken almost 30 years earlier of the Gemco Special. The photo confirmed Walter’s premise, and Russell was soon talking to Ian Hallett, who owned the old Gemco moulds.

The two men came to an agreement and Russell was give permission to use the Gemco moulds. However, they were not in very good condition and required considerable work to rectify shape errors and improve details before they could be used. In retrospect, Russell now believes that it would have been quicker for him to have designed and built his own moulds, as he had originally planned.

In the end, Russell spent an entire Christmas holiday period, plus a couple more months, working with the Gemco moulds and hand-laying the fibreglass, ending up with something pretty close to the essence of the McLaren CanAm car.

Shopping Spree

Work on the car halted for a while, with Russell going on holiday to the US. However, the replica was still uppermost in his mind, so a large shopping list had been prepared. As such, prior to the trip home Russell packed an assortment of parts for subsequent shipping back to New Zealand.

With the larger items packed for shipping, a further 28kg of important little bits — brake rotors and callipers, hose, MSD ignition/distributor and various fittings — was crammed into two carry-on hand bags. It’s perhaps not surprising that Russell got the full drug search at the airport. Each item was put through the sniffer but passed as being ‘clean.’ He managed to make his hand-baggage look like it weighed nothing, but it blew all the alarms during personal check-in, and when airport security took a look inside his bag at all the hose and fittings, Russell thought his goose was cooked. Luckily, the inspector was a petrol-head and quickly realised that Russell wasn’t smuggling drugs or explosive devices. The rest of the trip was uneventful, with a clean pass through customs at Auckland airport.

All these new shiny bits soon ended up on the car, with Precision Engineering turning up some new front hubs with a reduced scrub radius, increased off-set and a top hat to carry the Wilwood brake rotors Russell had bought in the US. Everything hung together smoothly, and adaptor plates were made to hang the Wilwood callipers onto Cortina MkIV uprights.

Now it was time to finalise the design of the rear suspension, and to sort out the drive components. Practicality meant that the standard Audi front-wheel drivetrain would be best used — on the Audi GT, this system supported some 1800kg and handled 112kW (150bhp). On Russell’s car, despite a higher power figure of around 179kW (240bhp), they would only be called upon to support 650kg. For Russell, this was easy stuff, especially as longer axles also gave him the correct rear track width. The lower wishbones had toe-in adjusters included, and everything else was held in place by parallel top and bottom trailing arms, bottom reversed ‘A’ arms plus a single top link.

Back to saving costs, Russell made his own rear uprights, built from sheet steel with a machined centre to carry the original Audi front bearings and the front callipers. All the clevis attachments for the ball joints were also made in Russell’s home workshop, along with all the suspension arm bushes. Another illustration of Russell’s No8 wire approach came when he thought about universal joints. Rather than purchase expensive, off-the-shelf items he instead chose to use 3/8-inch drive socket universals — a novel way of saving a few dollars.

By this stage, other parts had arrived from the US — including a Jaz fuel cell — and the Hoosier tyres ordered from Cardwells had also turned up. The car was now starting to look like something.

One problem Russell now faced was finding a seat with enough layback for the car. There were no standard items available, so the problem was solved with typical Kiwi ingenuity — one day at work, Russell spotted a new wheelbarrow. It looked like it was just the job, so Russell hopped into the barrow and tried it for size. It was perfect. The wheelbarrow was promptly whisked off home, where Russell waxed it up and used to make a fibreglass mould. With a few chops and mods, the barrow seat fitted Russell’s backside to a tee.

Sorting the V8

The dummy V8 was now beginning to look very busy, even more so when Russell fitted his self-built extractors to the engine. Everything was now taking on the semblance of a game of three-dimensional chess as he tried to fit everything into place, each component wanting to share the same space. The extractors ended up going forward then arcing back up over the chassis rear bulkhead, to cross over the gearbox before exiting on each side. A large diameter balance pipe was also added for a very healthy exhaust note.

With most of the major parts now purchased, it was time to get the motor sorted out, so Engine Specialties in Glenfield was tasked with rebuilding another low mileage short-block and completing the heads that Russell had already mildly ported. With that in hand, Russell began to think about the inlet manifold. Once again, reluctant to part with money for a tailor-made inlet, he pulled out his tools and, some 20 hours later, had a very serviceable pair of inlets waiting for a surface grind, along with a set of ‘O’-ringed soft mounts for the four twin-choke Dell’orto carburettors he had pulled off two Alfa Romeo 33 engine.

The carburettors were finished off with a set of ram pipes. Russell could have simply purchased a set of spun metal trumpets, but that would have meant spending money. Instead, he laboriously turned his own mould and made the trumpets from fibreglass. Look inside the trumpets and you can see that each carburettor inlet is protected by a neat, metal gauze protector — nothing fancy here, these are wire strainers pulled from infusion teapots which Russell purchased from The Warehouse. We’re not sure what he did with the strainer-less teapots!

Once the engine block was returned from Engine Specialties — complete with Kelford performance cam along with a modified trapdoor sump that was to catch the oil — Russell fitted a remote oil filter and plumbed in oil coolers and separate cooling fans.

All construction was now complete, with all manner of brackets hopefully installed to carry everything Russell could think of — now it was time to strip everything down and apply some paint to the car’s body. His home car port had by now become a garage, and it was soon to be converted into a sand-blasting room followed by a paint shop. Yes, Russell handled all the paintwork on the car, including the top coat of orange.

Final Assembly

With all the hard work now finished, it was time for the best part — final assembly. For Russell, this was a rewarding time, and the finale to over four years of meticulous and patient work.
As the hand-laid, fibreglass body had been fully fitted earlier, there were no issues in that fit and suddenly Russell had what looked like a completed car. In truth, there was still plenty to do. Fitting brake lines, master cylinders, callipers and pads all contributed to that complete look, as did a new set of alloy wheels. For these, Russell chose period-looking five-spoke rims — the correct, period wheels would have cost more than he had already spent on the entire car.

Russell had already wired the car up from the dashboard back, so now it was simply a case of putting the right wires in the right places — although he did get lost at one stage, and had to use a meter to trace any faults. They turned out to be minor, earths through items such as the oil pressure switch.

At this stage, Russell was bursting to fire the engine up, but kept on finding things to keep him busy. Finally, oil pressure was manually cranked and it was time to power up the ignition — boom-bang-bugger! The timing was 180 degrees out! This ‘small’ matter was soon sorted out and the Rover V8 burst into life, surrounded by very large grins. A minor problem with a loose alternator belt and a blown charging circuit were soon rectified, after which the engine ran sweetly.

The motor was then run up to bed in the cam, and was now ready for its first run. However, Russell decided to forego that pleasure as the completed car was to be on display at the upcoming Speedshow in Greenlane, Auckland. At that stage, Russell had only driven it in first and reverse gear as he manoeuvred it on his driveway, so he decided a trailer would be needed to get it to the show. Typically, Russell built his own trailer from scratch.

The final touch was the addition of a front windscreen — which was formed using a heat gun. The screen was fitted to the car a day before the Speedshow.

Russell had wanted to drive it into the show from the car park but was thwarted by rain, so the car was simply pushed into place. At the show, reaction from visitors was mostly positive, many enthusiasts identifying with cars from the legendary CanAm era. In fact, the public response to Russell’s self-built car made all his work well worthwhile, and he was determined to drive it out of the show. So, at 6pm sharp, he hopped into the car and fired up the V8.

As Russell put it himself, “My head nearly fell off from the size of my smile — it was like driving a bath-tub with a V8 in your back pocket. I was thrilled with the sound and my tentative stab at the car’s performance.”

Russell still has a few minor things to sort out — including a wheel alignment — before he drives the car in anger. He doesn’t plan to race it, but has since taken to the track at Pukekohe in his creation — now christened the McCopy — and you can tell from his huge grin that he thoroughly enjoyed the experience. “The sound from the Rover V8 was simply awesome and, although I wasn’t pushing it too hard, the car felt good on the track.”

Russell may not have a massive Chevrolet V8 in his car but, with around 179kW on tap to propel a vehicle weighing only 630kg (which makes for a better power-to-weight ratio than a Dodge Viper), a thrilling ride is guaranteed.

We’ll leave the final words to Russell — “All along it has been a fantastic journey of learning, sharing a passion, enjoying people’s delight at the project and one of quiet satisfaction at what has been achieved, all of which I could not have done with out my wife’s support. Time to enjoy!”

Special thanks to Barry Kirk-Burnnand who allowed us to use his genuine McLaren M12 as a backdrop for this feature — if you’d like to read more about Barry’s M12, grab a copy of the April 2001 edition of NZ Classic Car, which featured this McLaren on the front cover.

McCopy – Specifications

Engine: All-alloy Rover V8
Capacity: 3.5-litre
Max power: 179kW (240bhp, estimated)
Fuel system: Four Dell’orto twin choke 40mm downdraught carburettors
Transmission: Audi five-speed transaxle, Kevlar clutch
Steering: Modified and widened Escort rack and pinion, with custom-made quick rack
Suspension: F/R Independent, unequal length wishbones, coils and telescopic shock absorbers, anti-roll bar
Chassis: Tubular steel space-frame
Body: Fibreglass body, nose and tail modified ex GEMCO
Brakes: Front: 318mm vented discs/ Wilwood four-pot callipers Rear: 267mm vented discs/ Audi two-pot callipers
Wheels: Challenger alloy — F: 15×8/R: 15×10
Tyres: Hoosier — F: 235.55×15/ R: 275.55×15

Dimensions:
Overall length: 3940mm
Width: 1850mm
Wheelbase: 2400mm
Track F/R: 1500mm/1550mm
Weight: 630kg

Words: Allan Walton Photos: Adam Croy & Dan Wakelin

This article is from NZ Classic Car issue 221. Click here to check it out.

The opportunity to track test David Abbott’s Lola T430 was real dream-come-true stuff for motor sport journalist and author Ross MacKay

“So this is it,” I found myself thinking, as Motorsport Solutions’ race engineer Andrew Bell buckled me into David Abbott’s ex Peter Gethin/ Warwick Brown, Australian Grand Prix-winning Lola T430 Formula 5000 car.

I was originally pencilled in to track test the car at the second New Zealand Festival of Motor Racing/ Bruce McLaren meeting at Pukekohe in January, but when Sunday’s lunchtime parade was cancelled, the only option was a flying trip to Christchurch a fortnight later for a couple of 20-minute sessions at Powerbuilt Tools Raceway, before the car was packed into a container and shipped across the Tasman for the Australian rounds of this season’s MSC series.

So what’s it like?Good question. And one I don’t mind admitting I’m still pondering as I write this. The short answer is ‘like nothing else I’ve ever driven and by no means an easy car to hustle around a race track.’But that doesn’t really help, does it? So humour me while I provide a longer and more detailed answer.

End of an Era

The T430 was one of the last, in actual fact probably the last, ‘new’ Formula 5000 single-seater produced, and was officially launched as a replacement for the ill-fated T400 in 1976. However, interest in the formula was waning, and what teams and individual drivers who were on the look-out for new cars appeared to favour was the ultimate CS version of the benchmark T332.

That said, Teddy Pilette, Peter Gethin and Warwick Brown made significant progress with the two T430s Team VDS patron, Rudi van der Straten, did buy. As did Australian driver Alfie Costanzo, who continued to race HU1 across the Tasman long after the formula had foundered elsewhere.

As for me? Well — I stalled David’s car on my first attempt to make it from the Motorsport Solutions’ building at the end of the Powerbuilt Tools Raceway pit lane to the pit apron, then compounded my embarrassment by heading to the tunnel (between the secretary’s office and the toilet block) only to find it blocked by a car and the track ATV.

That forced me to fumble around with the five-speed Hewland DG300 gearbox trying to find reverse (which like first gear is on a separate plane parallel to the second-third and fourth-fifth ones, but with a fairly serious detent) before inching backwards and forwards until I had enough room to head a little further down pit-lane to the ‘test day’ track entrance.

It was at this point that car owner, Abbott, arrived, and in my flustered ‘I-must-be-looking-like-a-complete-idiot’ state all I could manage was a quick wave before the task in hand — man-handling his kicking, bucking, seemingly recalcitrant race-car out onto the race track — reclaimed the lion’s share of my by now frazzled mental processes.

Once there (finally!), albeit with no time to settle in, warm the tyres (was I even supposed to?) or pretty much anything else, I eased the long travel throttle down and rumbled out onto the race track.

A Tight, Technical Ribbon of Tarmac

For those of you who don’t know it, Powerbuilt Tools Raceway is a tight, quite technical ribbon of tarmac 15 kilometres west of Christchurch. Originally built on dry, stony land in the early 1960s, it has been progressively added to over the years to the point now where the ‘long’ circuit I was using measures 3.3 kilometres.

Within that distance are eight main corners and a couple of high-speed kinks, the first at the end of the long start/finish straight, the second half way between turn one and the hairpin. Having raced Vees, Mazda RX-7s and motorcycles there I know the place like the back of my hand — or at least I thought I did, until I found myself trying to work out what lines to take in the T430.

At which point the reality of what I was actually doing — driving a pukka state-of-the-art race-car, one that in its day was as fast as a comparable Formula One machine — hit me.

BNT V8s front-runner Eddie Bell still holds the Pro 7 (Series 1 RX-7) lap record round the 3.3km circuit with a best time of 1.40.383. Without digging back through my records my best in the Fuelstar RX-7 I raced before Bell appeared on the scene would have been a high 42 or low 43.

And when I raced my Vee (they’re now called Formula Firsts, but the cars remain 1.2-litre Volkswagen-powered) I would have been lucky to see a 48.

Contrast those times with the 1.19.23 McRae GM1 driver Chris Hyde set at the Lady Wigram Trophy round recently, and it’s obvious why I was having problems trying to place the car on the track.

Even 10 seconds — or more — off Hyde’s pace I was circulating at least another 10 seconds quicker than I had in my RX-7, more in the Formula Vee.

With a freshly re-built 5.0-litre (302ci) Chevrolet V8 behind me I had 391kW (525hp) of peak power and 596Nm of peak torque at my disposal.

In power-to-weight terms that’s not quite (according to Wikipedia) in the 690kW/600kg territory of a 2005 Williams-BMW F1 car. But with a dry weight of 656kg it’s a hell of a lot closer than anything else I’ve ever driven. And almost incomprehensible for a car which is now 34 years old.

Getting Comfortable

However, lap times were the last thing I was thinking about in my first exploratory session as I struggled to get comfortable in the car.

The problem was the seat insert. I’m a little longer in the back and leg than David Abbott, and though there was plenty of room in the footwell, my knees were forced hard up against the rail on which the instruments were mounted.

Fearing the problem was one I couldn’t sort out quickly (knowing that in most cases seats are tailored specifically for the owner/driver) I returned to the Motorsport Solutions workshop with a heavy heart.

Fortunately, once I was out of the car Andrew decided I could get away without the insert, and when I slipped back in there was indeed plenty of room, fore, aft and on each side. There wasn’t much actual padding to speak of, but strapped tightly in I returned to the track for my second session feeling a lot more confident. Too confident, as it turned out.

In the first session I was rolling round the hairpin in third because I couldn’t heel ’n’ toe properly. In the second I was able to find and engage second easily enough, only to spin to a harmless stop soon after thanks to too eager an application of power on cold tyres! Bugger!

Looks Easy

From the grandstands there is simply nothing like a field of Formula 5000 cars massing for, then literally rocketing away from, a rolling start. And though we are now all spoiled by full fields of beautifully restored MSC series cars headlining meetings like the MG Classic at Manfeild, and the two new Festival of New Zealand Motor Racing ones at Hampton Downs and Pukekohe, I can still remember the day not that long ago when even one or two cars — Roger Williams’ McRae GM1 being a good example — drew an appreciative crowd.

There have been times, too, when — like many of you no doubt — I’ve watched drivers like series stalwarts Ian Clements, Stan Redmond and Roger Williams thunder round Pukekohe, Manfeild and now Hampton Downs and thought to myself, ‘those cars can’t be that hard to drive!’

And, to be fair, as my experience proved, they’re not.

To race, though? Particularly back then against the likes of US and Tasman champion, Graham McRae, or today in a field of over 30?
If any racing car commands respect it must be a Formula 5000.

With practice the rifle bolt action of the gear lever would, I’d imagine, become second nature. The brakes — which had my torso pushing against the shoulder straps of the full harness seat belts at turn one and the hairpin — certainly did.

Looking back, in fact, I was 100 per cent comfortable with their Velcro-like ability to haul the big car down from 250kph speeds a lap or so into my first session.

The power, though? And the steering and basic handling characteristics of the cars? Both would take me some time.

Power and Responsibility

Like most of the F5000 drivers, Abbott uses a surprisingly long throttle. To the point where even rolling along in the pits I found myself using what felt like 25 per cent of the available ‘throw’ just to get a throttle-blipping ‘karoomba, karoomba’ out of the engine.

Once out on the track it didn’t take me long to work out why.

For a racing engine the 5.0-litre Chevy has real flexibility (which is where an F5000 has it over higher revving but peakier Formula One cars from the same era), but hit 3500rpm and you are literally catapulted forward in what I can only describe as the terrestrial equivalent of The USS Enterprise’s ‘faster-than-light’ warp drive!

With strict instructions from David not to over-rev the recently checked and freshened engine there was no way I was going to hold it in any gear — even second — until the red (in this case bright orange) line.

As it turned out, however, there was absolutely no need. Even with the optional high speed circuit (Pukekohe, Phillip Island and Albert Park) final drive gearing, the minute the needle on the period-style analogue Stack tacho reached the magical 3500rpm mark I felt like I was a boulder in a Carthaginian’s catapult or — to paint a more modern word picture — behind the wheel of a Top Fuel dragster.

Handle With Care

Despite not lapping fast enough to really push the limits of the car, it wasn’t hard to discern its basic characteristics.Turn-in is quick and decisive without being overly nervous, but I was surprised by how heavy the steering was, and how stubbornly the car understeered exiting corners.

With so many slow-in, fast-out corners Powerbuilt Tools Raceway is probably not the best place to experience a car like this, but to both it and the circuit’s credit the more speed I carried into and through the corners, and the later (just like a V8 Supercar by all accounts) I got back on the power, the more neutral and ‘placeable’ the car became.

All too soon of course the time came to peel off the track for the last time and return the car to its rightful owner who, like fellow MSC NZ F5000 Tasman Cup Revival Series driver Steve Ross also there that day, was genuinely interested in my impressions.

Which were that Aussie Ken James was right.

I interviewed the Gold Coast-based businessman when he was here for the Lady Wigram Trophy meeting, and when I asked him what his ex Garrie Cooper/Larry Perkins 1979 Rothmans Australian F5000 series-winning Elfin MR8 C was like to drive, he had a ready, and typically colourful, answer.

“It’s just light and so powerful, it’s like having that big Chevy engine strapped to your backside!” he said, laughing. “Of the 12 to 15 cars I’ve raced, and that includes Sports Sedans and NASCAR, the Elfin’s by far the fastest and the most exciting.”

Powerwise, competitors are ultimately limited by the strict period (Appendix K) rules the MSC NZ F5000 Tasman Cup Revival Series is run under. Spec-wise, for instance, the engines are for intents and purposes identical to the ones used first time around, including magneto ignitions, Lucas McKay mechanical fuel injection and 23-degree cylinder heads.

But as David Abbott is quick to point out, for most of the current generation of owner-drivers the 373-or-so kilowatts of a freshly re-built engine is more than enough.

“We all have our own limits which we drive to and hopefully not beyond, but because you have bags of everything — power, torque, grip — you do have to be very respectful of them.”
To which all I can say is a hearty, indeed!

Words: Ross McKay Photos: Alex Mitchell

This article is from Classic Car issue 233. Click here to check it out.

Find more Australian GP results here.

Fast, V8-powered and Kiwi-built — we road-test a rapid Almac Sabre

I met John Bennoch quite a few years ago now, on one of the very early Dunlop Targas, on which he ran a 911-powered McRae Porsche Speedster. From what I remember, on that particular Targa event it poured down with rain for the whole it in the Speedster gave him many a good lesson in how not to do it, unless you fancy yourself as the next Edmund Hilary.

Hardly broke, but not one of those with an endless budget, John had to find something he could build and develop himself at a rate his funds allowed — not exactly on the cheap, but using innovative solutions towards achieving the right mix of power and reliability.

Almac

Reliability was of key importance, more than weight saving, as John admits this Almac Sabre is not the lightest car in the paddock at 1175kg. But it is strong event. With no screen and no roof for fi ve days, John was competing in a bath tub. The Speedster went off the road a couple of times, too. Never a man to do things the easy way, I thought at the time.

When John put the Speedster up for sale in NZCC’s cars for sale columns, I chose it for our then monthly Driving the Ads feature. The Speedster was great, a wonderful car to drive — for an hour or so, not a rain sodden week! I really enjoyed the experience, particularly meeting up with John for a good yarn. He’s a true enthusiast, and a person who likes to build things rather than buy them, and he always seems to choose Kiwi-inspired devices too. A patriot.

Before the McRae Speedster, John built a very early locally designed Chevron kit, and after the Porsche replica got involved in a Kiwi-built sports car that looked like a Ferrari 333SP IMSA car.

John thoroughly enjoyed Dunlop Targa, and doing and rigid, and he could always personally discard extra weight more cheaply by simply going on a diet. John has always had a soft spot for throaty V8-powered TVRs, and he has virtually achieved a Kiwi TVR in his own back yard with the help of Almac founder Alex McDonald from the Hutt Valley, and Andy Culpin of RaceFX in West Auckland.

Alex MacDonald is better known for his Cobra replicas, but as well as his MG TF look-alike, Alex had been working on a unique ‘non-replica’ sports car for several years.

Alex began his career in the constructor’s car industry by being a customer himself. Before Jem Marsh started manufacturing his clever and legendary Marcos cars, he made a thing called the Sirocco, one of which he sold to young Alex McDonald for £90. To say that it was a kit is rather understating the case. Alex’s mother complained bitterly of the fi breglass smell that drifted into her kitchen from where Alex was piecing the puzzle together.

Alex learned a lot during that construction, much of which he was to put into practice on his next acquisition, a TVR. A sense of normality came when he replaced the TVR with an MG Midget. However, his penchant for making fibreglass bits didn’t stop as the Midget needed a hardtop, which Alex made, while his new Kiwi wife, Diana, complained about¦ Well, you know what.

Later, Diana and Alex emmigrated to New Zealand, where Alex started working at the Dunlop tyre factory in Upper Hutt as a draughtsman engineer. Not content with working for somebody else, Alex decided to set up a fibreglass business, and went back to the skills he had learned on his mum’s kitchen table — starting Almac Plastics in 1971. Alex built a wedge-shaped concept car using VW running gear, but when he was persuaded to build, with the help of George Ulyate, an AC Cobra replica using a plastic model and photographs as the template,his career path had been set.

Birth of the Sabre

Alex contracted Graham Berry to make the chassis for the Cobra replica, and a number of cast parts. Demand was strong after its fi rst showing at the 1984 National Hot Rod Show, and 17 Almac Cobras were sold in its first year. Alex then built a sports car along the lines of the MG TC, and sold 25 of those and another 16 in more developed form.

Alex was still a mite irritated that his Almac brand never got the recognition it deserved, because his products were always being referred to as Cobras or MGs. He decided to build an Almac. Alex and his son Stuart chose the Ford Cortina, which had not changed mechanically from 1973 until production ended in 1984, as the base for the Almac Sabre which was fi rst featured in NZ Classic Car in May 1994. The idea and execution were great, but the timing was unfortunate. Cheap RX-7s and MX-5s that were then fl ooding into New Zealand killed the Sabre’s potential market.

In 2002, Alex started the Almac Sabre Series 2, with a view to moving away from the four-cylinder sports car market and into V8 territory. Developed in conjunction with long-time Triumph TR8 racer, Ron Robertson, the Sabre Sprint featured Kevlar body panels for light weight (that car weighed in at around 700-800kg), and did away with the standard Sabre’s old-fashioned Cortina suspension parts, replacing them with more modern Commodore components. It was powered by a tuned 3.5-litre Rover V8 Construction of the new Sabre commenced on December 19, 1999, and was completed on February 19 — just in time to make its competition debut at the Castrol Charity Classic.

Whereas Almac once marketed the Sabre as a unique alternative to modern sports cars, such as the Mazda RX-7, Alex MacDonald now sees the Sabre as a real alternative to a high-priced TVR and, with its V8 power and looks, an Almac Sabre could be put on the road for little more than $20,000. Originally, the styling looked to owe a lot to the MX-5, but it is bigger and actually owes more to a Reliant sports car that never made it into production — coincidentally, this car was also called the Sabre.

Customer development

At this point, John Bennoch enters the equation, with his desire to build a lightweight sports car strong enough and fast enough to make a competitive Dunlop Targa car. However, John wanted to use the now freely available light alloy quad-cam Lexus V8 engine, and Jaguar running gear.

This version was launched at the Hamilton Motor Show in March 2004, in this Lexus-powered configuration Alex quickly received fi ve orders for the car.

The first example is the vehicle you see here, having been race developed and upgraded to compete in the gruelling Dunlop Targa, something that it has done successfully and reliably in John Bennoch’s hands. The key to the Almac’s results is having relatively standard, under stressed components, with a few anclever tweaks courtesy of experienced race car builder Andy Culpin.

The chassis is similar to a TVR’s in concept — it’s a tubular backbone chassis — although, in this case, for competition use it has considerable additional structure around the doors for occupant protection, but it also provides exceptional structural rigidity. John and his co-driver went through a fence in the unscreened, unprotected McRae Speedster during Dunlop Targa, and John knows how lucky he was in that instance.

RaceFX

John Bennoch took delivery of Alex’s Hamilton show car in March 2004; it was fi tted with a JAZ fuel cell and then shipped to Andy Culpin at RaceFX. Andy fabricated a front sub-frame structure to accommodate the Lexus engine (moved back 150mm), and modifi ed the tunnel to accommodate a Toyota Supra five-speed gearbox.

Similarly, the chassis needed to be adapted to the Jaguar running gear, and to allow the Lexus headers to neatly find their way out in front of the doors and alongside the sills to facilitate ground clearance — a key requirement for Targa. The double-skinned alloy under-fl oor is completely fl at until the rear axle, where a diffuser is fitted to get hot air away from the inboard rear brakes, limited slip differential and transmission tunnel.

John says that the hot transmission tunnel is his main concern with the car at the moment, and more work is required to get heat out of the engine bay. Although, I have to say, we sat in typically grid-locked Auckland traffi c during our test in the car, and I have been in a lot worse.

Andy and John have managed to make the car extremely friendly in traffic, something else that is also important for a Targa car, which gets the living daylights thrashed out of it only to sit in a stop-start queue of cars waiting for the next stage. In these situations a car that cannot keep its temperatures under control is a liability and will cause considerable heat stress and anxiety for the crew. So John and Andy have done an excellent job in this case — an clever other box ticked in the ideal Dunlop Targa car list. An alloy radiator is installed under a substantial oil cooler along with one of Andy’s ingenious money-saving fixes — a hand-primed marine pressure accumulator which ensures that there is always 35psi oil pressure in the V8 engine. Effectively, it’s a cheap surrogate for an expensive dry-sump system.

Another of Andy’s marine-inspired devices is an air bilge pump, designed to take gases out of the engine room of inboard power boats. This is the simple fi x for having no heater, and therefore no air to a screen that could mist up in wet weather. The air pump takes air off the hot transmission tunnel and pumps it straight to the screen. Ample ventilation is provided by scoops in the roof, opened by simple vents designed for the local bus industry. The rear lights came from the same source.

Arrow Wheels

An array of Smith’s instruments in the Sabre’s centre console divides the two passengers, who nestle in Racepro RP2 seats which are fi xed in place to their preferred seating position.

One of the essential parts of the car sits in the left hand side — Lance Bell, of Arrow Wheels in West Auckland. As well as supplying a superb set of his made-to-measure wheels, Lance provides workshop space, endless help and extremely professional codriving skills. As a side note, the special five-spoke alloy wheels used on John’s Sabre, designed and manufactured by Arrow Wheels, are now available for anyone to buy. Appropriately, they are marketed by Arrow Wheels as the Sabre.

John runs SPR models (www.spr.co.nz), and has advertised the many different model makers he supplies on the car, as well as his training client, Civic Wholesale, which supplies electrical parts to the motor industry, and the exciting VDO Dayton on-board navigation system for New Zealand. This Sabre has now fi nished two Dunlop Targas, this time around fi tted with an extremely stylish new nose cone and a roof derived from Andy Culpin’s F40 Ferrari replica, courtesy of Steve Fox, the F40’s owner. The car is fast and spectacular, and sounds an absolute treat.

John has had a few exciting moments in the car, usually in front of a camera, but has always brought the Almac home, which is his main aim. Not being a super-budget outfit, he realises that these days an overall top finish is out of the question, but considering his resources he is very happy with the outcome.

We drove the car and it is fast and extremely well behaved, its stiffness being its main virtue, giving excellent turn in to allow you to use the throttle to adjust your line with confi dence. The bellow from the Lexus V8 belies the benign character of the car — it’s fast enough to frighten you, but extremely well behaved and strong. It also looks tremendous with its new nose and bright colour scheme — it’s an extremely professional-looking sports car for a home-built Kiwi car.

2004 Almac Sabre S2 – Specifications

Engine Toyota 1UZFE Lexus, all-alloy,quad-cam V8
Capacity 4.0-litre
Max power 179kW at wheels
Max torque 350Nm at wheels
Gearbox Five-speed, Toyota Supra
Construction Two-seater sports coupe, fibreglass body, tubular space-fame chassis
Suspension Front double wishbones with Jaguar uprights, QA1 shocks and Eibach springs; Rear Jaguar XJS independent rear, QA1 shocks and Eibach springs
Steering Ford Sierra rack and pinion
Brakes Front Jaguar discs and Wilwood callipers, Tilton adjustable actuation; Rear Jaguar discs and callipers, Tilton adjustable actuation
Wheels Arrow Sabre 17 by eight-inch threepiece alloys
Tyres Dunlop D01J 235/40ZR17

Dimensions

Length 4050mm
Width 1830mm
Wheelbase 2300mm
Weight 1175kg
Track F/R 1500/1500mm

Words: Tim Nevison Photos: Jared Clark

Penn examines a car hailing from an era when the British made quality cars

David Batterton took off the dust sheets to reveal an exceptionally pretty vintage car. One glance tells you you’re looking at a very original and very genuine little collectable — in fact a wide bodied two-seater 1928 Alvis 12/50 with body by Cross & Ellis, which had a factory over the road from Alvis and built quite a few of these bodies. The wide body part is important because, typically, the hand brake and the gear lever are on the right of the driver’s legs and the clutch and accelerator are well to the centre of the cabin, so in practice the driver is pushed/pulled into the centre.

However, at a pinch three weedy Britishers could still snuggle together in the cabin. Help is on the way though, because there is the classically ’20s dicky seat in the boot in which two large colonials could undoubtedly sit very comfortably, with the legs stretched out full length under the seats in the cabin. When David’s boys were little, if it rained they’d be stuffed into the huge space and the lids shut down — you’d probably get prosecuted these days, or at least suffer trial by women’s magazines.

It has a classically ’20s look about it, two squarish boxes with a bigger one in between them, and the whole lot on a wheel at each corner. Nothing like the later look shared by Alvis, Jaguar, Armstrong Siddeley and Morris 14/6. Nevertheless, where this car really scores is in the unquestionably superior construction, finish and fittings.

Great provenance

David is the Alvis’ sixth owner, and it’s been in his family 43 years. Originally his brother bought it from the fourth owner, who had bought it from a family who passed it around amongst themselves. It’s a car with great provenance.
The original owner was a Kiwi who went to England and bought the car about June 1928. It was registered here on January 16, 1929. That first owner had it for a while then it went to somebody else with the same surname, then to somebody with a different name (daughter with a married name?) at the same address. Then to one other owner, then to David’s brother in 1963. Finally, of course, to David in 1971.

The brother had got interested in boats, having got as far as a strip down and chassis repaint, so David took the project over and reassembled and refurbished as he went. It was all there and all in good order, consequently we have a 77-year-old car that’s had a 10-year overhaul about half way through its life.

The only modifications have been to fit the later twin SUs and a detachable oil filter. This latter is a commonly fitted device on most vintage cars, but the twin SUs were a safety precaution. The original carburettor was an up draught poised just above the commutator and, having seen a Bentley go up in flames, David is very risk aversive, so on went the SUs from a 1931 model Alvis.

On the road

A real test of these old cars is a drive through Auckland traffic. This car is almost good enough to qualify as an everyday driver — if you’re a true old car lover with time on your hands. It’s got four excellent drum brakes, very good steering, lots of real torque allowing you to wind away from almost dead slow in any cog, and with that comfortable feeling that there aren’t going to be any surprises. This Alvis demonstrates that the pedigreed cars really were better designed and better built, and consequently were superior enough to be worth the extra money, they weren’t built for the hairy mass market where cost was of prime consideration.

But as a consequence they’re heavy, which does take the edge off the performance unless you do a strip down. However, it’s that weighty build quality that  gives them a great name, and they’ll go on and on until the last trump sounds.
David has been timed at 116kph (72mph) and he wasn’t flat out, so the 80mph speedo is necessary and that’s almost a mile per year of the car’s life. Take off the heavy guards etc and she’d easily exceed 116 — should you be able to think of a reason to do so.

All of that notwithstanding, David made the comment that at the end of a day driving this car, you are tired because these old girls can’t compete with modern cars — not even the best of the old girls. Shucks, is that non PC? I hope so.

Good driver

I’m going on a bit about what a good driver this Alvis is because I’ve not enjoyed every drive in every old car over the years — some have been pigs and were pigs when they were new — but the ‘name’ marques have always deserved their reputations for not only being good drivers, but also for conferring status on the driver! This is definitely a good driving status car — confirmed by the favourable looks we kept getting as we motored around the suburbs. Of course, it could have been the two aging but distinguished old gents sitting up in the pleasant sunlight, but I guess it really was the singularly pretty car.

I noted that David liked to have about three car lengths minimum between himself and any car in front, and sure enough a (solid) dab on the brakes was then quite sufficient to aid in evasive action as the mandatory slowing up in front to read the radiator badge occurred. Irrespective, however, in the afternoon traffic we bowled along very pleasantly in a thoroughly useable old car showing 12,000 miles (19,312km) since its last rebuild 20-odd years ago.

Just to keep his hand in David is restoring another, very early ’30s Alvis — with a sporty boat-tail body — and has almost finished the wood frame repairs. He also has a very early ’60s Rolls-Royce which appealed to me because, for a change, it’s an understated Rolls, and so one wouldn’t feel impossibly pretentious using it. The Rolls grille is not something that this working class boy feels comfortable behind but, in the case of this car, the balance is just about right and I would enjoy the charade.

Alvis 1920 – 67

There was an era when the British produced cars peculiarly and distinctively British. The expression ‘Best of British’ meant something during the classic era, and classier makers capitalised on this, aiming at giving an implied guarantee of status and quality by virtue of the styling they adopted. Low to the ground (despite tall wheels), with long bonnets, sweeping front guards and lavishly equipped interiors.

Even down-market makers used similar styling to sell some of their models. I had as a first car a 1938 Morris 14/6 that had ‘the look’ — in this car the long bonnet encased a cumbersome cast-iron flathead six. It was extremely reliable, but the cart springs and consequential bone jarring in a pothole meant that ‘the look’ was only skin deep.

However, during the ’20s, Alvis focussed on well-built and well-designed quality performers with distinctly sporting aspirations. Since the firm was founded in 1920 it clearly had the advantage of looking around at the others in the niche it chose to sell in.

Throughout the ’20s Alvis’ were hardly trendsetters, but they were very well made and quickly built a reputation for longevity, sporty performance and sound construction.

The company’s founders — TG John of Siddeley-Deasy and GP H de Freville from DFP — ensured their cars were never aimed at anybody but the upper middle class — who else could afford cars?

In those days there was a lot of inbreeding (so to speak) going on in the British motor industry — all the ‘names’ knew each other. The DFP connection was very important because that was also WO Bentley’s racer of choice, and through this Alvis was a very early pioneer in the use of alloy pistons — one of WO’s gifts, pioneered in DFPs.

There’s absolutely nothing that can be said in favour of warfare, but a tiny argument could be carefully advanced that points to the hugely accelerated development in engineering which warfare stimulates and pays for. All these men I’ve referred to — and more — were British engineers of considerable merit, and aero engines and suchlike proved to be superb test beds for the advanced ideas incorporated in the cars of the ’20s.

By the ’30s the transition to the ‘British look’ had started, and Alvis was designing a range that covered not only quality bread-and-butter cars but also the Eagle series of models. The Silver Eagle, the Crested Eagle and so on leading to the 1938 Alvis 4.3-litre four-door saloon with true 100mph performance. It was called a short chassis saloon, but in reality it was long and low, complete with two side-mounted spares in the wells of the huge front guards.

Following Hitler’s war, Alvis adopted this style exclusively, producing some very fine vehicles in the ’40s and ’50s. Even in the last Alvis — the TE21 — was a handsome car.

Rover bought Alvis in 1965. Alvis is still in Coventry making military hardware but the cars were lost in the general collapse of a formerly thriving industry. I guess Herr Hitler’s VW Beetle had the last laugh — although not quite as loud as the last laugh when VW’s acquired Bentley in 1998.

Words & Photos: Penn McKay

When Holden proudly unveiled its new Monaro sports coupe at the Sydney Motor Show in 2001, 33 years had passed since the first Monaro made its debut, wowing Holden fans across the nation and featuring in national front-page news in July 1968.

Described by Holden as its biggest step since the manufacture of the first Holden in 1948, that 1960’s car — the striking new HK model Monaro — was indeed the first sports machine to be completely designed and engineered in Australia.

Interestingly, nine months before the sensational new sports coupe was introduced, it was still without a name of its own. Though it featured traditional American styling cues from Chevrolet’s Camaro and the Oldsmobile Toronado, Holden wanted its own uniquely Australian name, and therefore it sifted through hundreds of suggestions for a prospective model title, trying to find one that had that special ring.

Then while on holiday in Cooma, NSW, Holden’s technical stylist, Noel Bedford, just happened to spot a name on a sign that read “Monaro County Council” and, in an unusual kind of way, the sign reminded him of Marlboro Country and the Camaro. To Noel, Monaro seemed a fairly simple and logical name, and he wondered why someone hadn’t thought of it before.

When he returned to work he set about checking Monaro for copyright and dialect meaning, while the name was instantly approved during an impromptu meeting held by Holden’s board of directors.

As stated in the original HK Monaro press release, Monaro is of Aboriginal origin, meaning ‘a high plateau or high plain’ and also shares its name with the Monaro range in NSW’s Snowy Mountains as well as the Monaro Shire, just south of Canberra, ACT.

Aussie Pride

Produced in Holden’s brand new design studio, the HK Monaro coupe took a dramatic design route that was overwhelmingly influenced by US automotive trends. Its striking roof-line was styled on Oldsmobile’s front-wheel drive Toronado coupe, an incredibly successful US release in 1966 and still a contemporary styling inspiration.

The Monaro shared the Toronado’s rear pillars, which blend seamlessly into the rear quarter panels in an almost continuous slope from the rear window to the tip of the boot lid. Other Toronado features, like the stylish rear wheel arch blisters, also worked well on the more compact Monaro.

The HK GTS’ detailing included a tail panel strip that replicated full-width taillights, plus offset bonnet and side stripes, cooling gills in the front guards, stainless steel full wheel covers and grille blackouts. Inside, there were new stitch patterns for the seats, an alloy-spoked steering wheel and centre console.

Holden offered a selection of no less than 19 engine and transmission combinations; ranging from the 2638cc (161ci) Aussie six to the Chevrolet 5359cc (327ci) small-block V8 with four-on-the-floor to match.

Monaro drivers soon tapped into the exhilaration as the coupe’s instant street credibility was soon backed up by exceptional rally and race success. At the top of the pile, Holden’s thundering HK 327 Bathurst GTS Monaro was soon wrestling around Australasia’s race tracks, winning the 1968 Sandown three—hour endurance race with Tony Roberts and Bob Watson at the helm. This victory set the scene for Bruce McPhee and Barry Mulholland to pilot their Warwick Yellow Monaro to victory in the 1968 Hardie-Ferodo 500 at Bathurst. In fact, that ‘Great Race’ saw a clean sweep for the GTS Monaro, with Jim Palmer/Phil West and Tony Roberts/Bob Watson claiming second and third for a classic all Holden, all Monaro podium finish. The following year the Monaro proved its spirit again, with Colin Bond and Tony Roberts claiming victory while a youthful Peter Brock piloted his Monaro into third position.

The Monaro was instantly recognisable as an appealing sports machine, with rakish good looks that matched the traditional Holden virtues of longevity and toughness, testament to the many examples that remain today, mainly in the hands of enthusiast owners who are dedicated to ensuring that the original Monaro legend lives on.

Big Yella

Responding to an advertisement in the Trade & Exchange, Brett Pearce bought this HK Bathurst 327 Monaro almost six years ago after looking at a Brock VK Group A Commodore for sale in Bucklands Beach, Auckland. When Brett went to have a look at the Group A, the owner had another car under cover on blocks in his garage and, while looking over the immaculate low mileage Group A car, Brett couldn’t resist the urge to ask what the other car was under the covers. The owner said it was his 1968 HK Bathurst Monaro and, naturally, Brett asked if he could have a look.

When the covers were drawn back, Brett was blown away by what he saw — an immaculate Monaro. The owner had spent three to four years rebuilding the Warwick Yellow Monaro, exactly the colour Brett would have painted it if he owned the car. The owner then went on to explain what mechanical work had been carried out, but by this stage Brett was hooked and, although he liked the Group A, he knew he had to have the Monaro.

The obvious question was asked — the answer was a categorical no. Brett then embarked on a long period of calling the Monaro owner on a regular basis, around every three or four months. This would go on for the next four years until, one day, the Monaro was for sale.

At last, Brett had this Monaro — a car he had lusted after for the best part of 20 years. In the past, houses, business commitments and kids were priorities that always seemed to come first; now he was entering a stage in his life where the Monaro could occupy the top slot.

Brett has always been drawn to classic muscle cars, ever since he was a kid growing up in Papatoetoe. His guitar teacher owned an orange HT 350 GTS which he always admired, and other guys in the neighbourhood owned such cars as E38 and E49 Valiant Chargers, a 1969 302 Boss Mustang, Torana GT-R, and a 1956 Chevy pick-ups — all cars Brett would gladly own today given half a chance.

Over the years Brett looked at countless cars, and the criteria never changed, it had to be classic, fast and loud. He also wanted to be able to drive it to and from the race track, as putting a car on a trailer always seemed unnecessarily stressful.

Nervous Exercise

Driving his newly acquired Monaro for the first time was a nervous exercise for Brett. He hadn’t even heard the car run, or driven it — and driving the Monaro proved extremely awkward, as it was fitted with a race seat on the driver’s side which couldn’t be moved back to accommodate Brett’s long legs. As he drove the car for the first time, he also realised that he had no idea of what it would cost to bring the yellow beast back up to scratch — bearing in mind the Holden had been on blocks for five long years.

The first item on the agenda was a full check over, so the Monaro was whisked off to Derek Price at Performance Transmissions Ltd in Pukekohe, who helped get the car up and running. The decision was then made to remove the cylinder heads to inspect the engine internals — fortunately everything passed with flying colours, so the V8 was stitched back together and fired up.

Brett remembers asking Derek what it sounded like when he started it, and being told that it sounded pretty angry when the trigger was squeezed. Everything was pretty much bang on.

Basically, from then on it was a matter of sorting out several minor issues, including a new exhaust system — the existing one had rusted out. The Detroit Locker differential was removed and replaced with a LSD unit with a 3.25 ratio, because Brett discovered the car was running out of revs at the end of the straight at Pukekohe.

The Monaro had also been fitted with a Tilton triple-plate clutch, which made gear changes virtually impossible when driving around town unless you had thigh muscles like Arnold Schwarzenegger’s, so a centreforce clutch and alloy flywheel were fitted to make life easier.

Also, to further aid city driving, the ignition system was modified to include a MSD distributor to help prevent plugs fouling and a new, four-core radiator with two large electric fans was added to keep the engine running as cool as possible. The car was also fully rewired to remedy some existing electrical faults.

The Richmond Super T10 gearbox was completely rebuilt, as it had a bad habit of popping out of second at the end of Pukekohe’s back straight, and a two-piece driveshaft was installed to cure high-speed vibration. Brett decided the Monaro also needed new rubber and, as the car was running 15-inch Arrow wheels, it proved impossible to get good tyres to suit — which meant a change to 16-inch rims. Brett’s brother came to the rescue with a spare set of Simmons wheels, which required some machining to suit the Monaro’s modified Commodore stud pattern.

Oops!

With everything fettled, it looked to be full steam ahead for Brett’s Monaro — at least it was until the top came off a valve, the broken piece completely destroying the engine.

Engine guru Dave Mills had personally rebuilt a new engine using the very best parts available. However, due to a faulty timing chain he had to rebuild it all over again. Interestingly, there was never any question of blame — he just got on and fixed the V8, testament to Dave’s honesty and integrity.

Since then Dave and his son, Craig, have looked after the Monaro, providing Brett with superb service and workmanship. Craig actually built the custom exhaust system using three-inch mandrel bent stainless steel tube, with double chamber Flowmaster mufflers. It really is a work of art.

Brett also installed a new set of HPC coated Pacemaker exhaust headers along with a heavy-duty starter motor, alternator and battery for easy ‘hot’ starting.

The car is also fitted with a fully homologated bolt-in roll-cage with removable side intrusion bars, RacePro seats and full harnesses, a Hurst shifter and JFZ four-pot brakes with slotted and drilled rotors.

Paul Manuell’s team at Eastern Automotive dyno-tested the Monaro at an impressive 372kW (500bhp) and a whopping 880Nm (650ft/lb) torque, and Mark Stokes certified the car for its MotorSport NZ Authority Card.

Since its last engine rebuild nothing major has needed Brett’s attention, apart from one rust repair. One of the most common areas for these Monaros to rust is in the rear quarter panels just below the side rear windows, and a previous repair had started to react with the paint. Dave Mills’ panelbeater completely stripped both rear quarters back to bare metal and ensured the original rear quarter swage lines were put back in.

Although Brett’s Monaro has been modified to suit his taste, the wonderful thing is that he still has all the original parts — including the genuine 327ci engine, original Saginaw gearbox, Salisbury 10-bolt differential and original front seats, so that this genuine, low mileage Bathurst 327 HK Monaro could be converted back to stock condition quite easily at any time. In fact, I believe this car is probably more valuable in stock trim, and its value probably explains why this awesome machine has only done 10 Commodore Car Club track events in the last 10 years. That’s very little track work for a car that once ruled Bathurst’s mountain, but each track outing is a great opportunity for Brett to get his power fix without getting caught.

Specs

1968 HK Holden Monaro GTS

Engine: Chevrolet V8

Capacity: 5.7-litre (350ci)

Engine: Wiseco (12.5-1) forged pistons, Callies steel crank 3.5-inch stroked, Eagle I-beam rods with 998kg (2200lb) bolts, competition main and big end bearings, Durabond one—piece cam bearings, Comp Cams roller cam, Comp Roller followers, guide plates and screw in studs, Comp Cams 5.16×080-inch hardened push rods, Comp Cams spring retainers, 10—degree jumbo locks, Isky toolroom springs, Ferrea 2.02-inch stainless intake valves and Ferrea 1.65-inch stainless exhaust valves, 1.6 ratio roller rockers, Romac damper, Romac roller duplex chain set, Mercedes timing chain, chromoly rings, Felpro O-Ringed head gaskets, ported cylinder heads, competition sump, four-bolt mains

Max power: 372kW (500bhp)

Max torque: 881Nm (650lb/ft)

Fuel system: Four barrel 750cfm Holley

Transmission: Richmond Super T10

Suspension F/R: oil spring/leaf spring — radius rod

Steering: Recirculating ball

Brakes: Power assisted disc

Dimensions:

Overall length: 4527mm

Width: 1759mm

Wheelbase: 2719mm

Kerb weight: 1530kg

Words: Ashley Webb | Photos: Adam Croy

The first season of the Castrol GTX series was a brutal affair — Stephen tells the story

Words Steve Holmes
Photos Terry Marshall, Garry Price, Bruce Dyer, Peter Hanna Collection

New Zealand may not have had its own car manufacturing companies, but it did once have a very strong car assembly industry, with motor sport endurance events taking place for New Zealand assembled cars which spawned many local specials not available anywhere else in the world. The jewel in the crown was the annual 500 mile race, held at Pukekohe, and sponsored by Benson & Hedges (B&H) cigarettes. Initially a six hour enduro, and sponsored by Wills, the event soon caught on with local manufacturers, car dealers, and importers, and quickly became the biggest motor sport event for production cars in New Zealand.

the biggest turnout of Z28 Camaros was entered with Baker, McKee, Allen, Tulloch, McNamara, and the old Crichton car, now owned by George Bunce

However, if the B&H endurance events had a downside, it was that they didn’t allow for the high performance Australian specials which were built to win the 500-mile Bathurst event, as they were not assembled locally. Races for those cars took place in New Zealand as soon as early HK Monaros began appearing on our roads, but were more sideshows than main events. Finally, Castrol Oils announced it would be sponsoring a new series for the 1972 New Zealand racing season, a series which embraced the Aussie Bathurst specials.

Castrol GTX

The first season of the Castrol GTX series was a brutal affair. A young Jim Richards won the series, after building an early points buffer in his McMillan Falcon GT-HO Phase III. But early race wins were split evenly between the several tyre shredding GT-HOs and the more nimble Torana XU-1s, before Timaru racer Leo Leonard gave a taste of things to come, winning a spate of late season races in his E38 Charger. Leonard’s end of season momentum suggested the Chargers may be the car to have for 1973, and so it proved.

Chrysler Australia’s new four-speed E49 simply cleaned up. Those not running Chargers either quickly swapped brands, or became mere grid fillers. Ford arranged for Allan Moffat to come across from Australia to compete at Wigram, bringing with him one of the all-conquering GT-HOs which had dominated Australian production racing for the last two years. He was, naturally, expected to bring a halt to the Charger steamroller, but Leonard blew him away in practice, qualifying 1.1 seconds faster, and led the Canadian-Aussie during the early laps before the pair of them retired with their own dramas. Following their exit, the E49s of Ron Rutherford and Rod Coppins grabbed the top spots. The GT-HO was quietly sent home after it was again bombarded by the Chargers at Teretonga, Timaru, and Ruapuna, now driven by Jim Richards.

It seemed the only way to stop the flying Chargers was to outlaw them, which is what happened. As the rules favoured the Aussie Bathurst specials, and since Australia had changed to Group C from 1973, it became clear there would not be another production car capable of dealing to the Charger E49 on New Zealand turf any time soon, so the rules were simply re-written to outlaw them.

New Rules

The 1974 Castrol GTX series saw a new set of rules, and new race format, but the new look didn’t enjoy the same following as the one it replaced. The new rules outlawed the Bathurst specials, but heavily favoured Ford’s XA GT four-door sedan, and a gaggle of these cleaned up the silverware. Jim Richards, Inky Tulloch, Robbie Francevic, Wayne Murdoch and Tony Warren all campaigned very fast XA GTs. Richards won the series both years, but interest was at a new low. Again, the rules were given a full make-over, and for 1976 New Zealand would have what it considered its own version of Australia’s Group C.

The jewel in the crown was the annual 500 mile race, held at Pukekohe

Like Group C, teams were allowed to make a limited number of modifications, to wheels, brakes, exhaust systems, and suspension. The favoured car for the ’76 season was the second generation Z28 Camaro, which was appearing in increasing numbers in endurance type events. Heading into the season Dave Baker, Art McKee, Doug Allen, and Neville Crichton were all piloting thundering Z28 Camaros. Crichton’s car, previously raced by Red Dawson, had taken a few endurance race wins during 1975, with Crichton teaming up with Jim Richards. The Camaros’ only real competition was Rod Coppins (1970, and 1973 New Zealand Saloon Car Champion), driving the Torana L34 he and Jim Richards had driven to an impressive third at Bathurst in 1974. A raft of booming E49 Chargers, orphaned from the original GTX guise of the ’72 and ’73 era, made up the big-engined class numbers, but struggled against the US V8s.

Baker got his campaign off to a great start, winning round one at Manfeild in October 1975, and heading home the similar car of McKee. The other Camaros of Crichton and Allen both succumbed to mechanical failures, Crichton a blown engine, Allen gearbox trouble. Round 2 at Bay Park a week later saw the powerful Camaros struggle with reliability, as the hot pace they were setting became their downfall. The best of the Camaros was Crichton, who placed second in the first of the two weekend races.

On to round three, and the open stretches of Pukekohe suited the powerful Z28s, with McKee getting some momentum going with his campaign, beating Allen, while Baker blew an engine. Baker again beat McKee and Allen at Levin, then again at Manfeild. Harry Holt debuted another Z28 Camaro at the Levin round. The red Big Brother Racing Camaro of Baker appeared unstoppable at this stage, as McKee blew an engine. Two more wins at the two-race Bay Park round, against McKee’s second and third, further drew Baker away from his rivals. This round was notable for the arrival of both Inky Tulloch and Kevin McNamara, debuting their Z28 Camaros.

Pukekohe

January 3, 1976, and the Castrol GTX show returned to Pukekohe, where the biggest turnout of Z28 Camaros was entered with Baker, McKee, Allen, Tulloch, McNamara, and the old Crichton car, now owned by George Bunce. However, the race turned out to be a car breaker, with Baker, Bunce, and McNamara all failing to finish, while Tulloch didn’t even start, suffering a blown diff in practice.

McKee won the Pukekohe round. From there the circus took to the South Island, and the McKee/Tulloch war began. Tulloch won at Wigram, narrowly heading off McKee and Baker. At Teretonga the GTX cars were given two races, McKee won the first, Tulloch the second. Tulloch damaged his clutch after leaving the track in race one, while Baker retired with engine trouble, failing to finish the second race. This meeting marked the first appearance in the series for yet another Camaro, this an ex McKee car, now owned by Bob Farrar.

On to Timaru, and the McKee/Tulloch battle continued, the pair taking one win, and one second place each, both finishing the weekend heavily battle scarred. Baker finished third on both occasions, but the title was slipping into the clutches of McKee who, despite his on-track battles with Tulloch, was clocking up the points. By this stage the battles continued off the track as well as on, as both Tulloch and McKee were protested, Tulloch over his wheels, McKee his radiator. Allen finished both Timaru races in fifth, one place better than Farrar. The series then travelled north to Ruapuna, then Manfeild, where McKee finally wrapped up the title.

Outrageous costs

It had been a turbulent season. In fact, McKee couldn’t even claim to be the Castrol GTX champion, despite winning several races outright. The title was awarded to Porsche driver Lin Neilson, thanks to a points system based on class results. Neilson, running a different class to the V8s, sped around, merrily gathering up untroubled points against little class opposition, and was awarded the outright title. McKee could only claim to be Unlimited Class champion.

The racing was good, but the costs outrageous. The top teams were spending $1000 per meeting, a lot of money in 1976. Prize money for first place was about 10 per cent of that! The increasing number of protests over supposed illegal cars took its toll on teams, and frustration reigned. Also, MotorSport New Zealand had little interest in nurturing the class, as open-wheelers and the Shell Sport series were its main priorities. The Castrol GTX series was but a support category.

The racing was good, but the costs outrageous. The top teams were spending $1000 per meeting, a lot of money in 1976

But imagine what might have been had someone seen the potential the class had. The crowds enjoyed the thundering V8s, and the intense racing, while the cars themselves, particularly the Camaros and Coppins’ Torana, were exotic to most Kiwi punters, and harked back to the glorious Group 2 and Group 5 days of the late ’60s and early ’70s. The class needed a major cash injection, and perhaps a few top-running V8 Fords for the blue-oval fans to cheer on. It needed to be nurtured. But history shows the series continued down the bumpy road it had started out on in 1972.

Art McKee had had enough, he found the uncertainty over the rules, and the hassles over protests, to be not worth the trouble. He imported a Chevy Monza, and went sports sedan racing. Dave Baker had stretched his finances too far, and sold up. Rod Coppins also withdrew from the series, and sold his Torana. Tulloch won the 1977 Castrol GTX series. His main opposition was Allen in McKee’s ’76 championship-winning car, but the Camaros were appearing in smaller numbers than the previous year, and without Coppins, they had no competition other than each other. But they could still put on a show for the crowds.

MotorSport New Zealand then decided to outlaw the Camaros, deeming them too expensive. It introduced a 3000cc engine limit, so those running in the top class had to go elsewhere to race their machines. Then the decision was overturned, following pressure from the track promoters, who understood the value in the big V8s. This all took its toll. The only Camaro to compete in the 1978 Castrol GTX championship was that of Bob Farrar, who entered only the Wigram round, and was easily the quickest on the track. Following the ’78 season, Castrol announced it would withdraw from the series.

Words Trevor Stanley-Joblin Photos Sean Craig

One of the best-known Midget cars at the Christchurch speedway in Aranui during the ’50s was the Model A B4-powered car, of Gerald Alexander, better known to the public as just ‘Jiggs’

The history of this Midget starts way back in 1945. The late Ron Roycroft found a near-perfect gravel hill climb car in a Midget he built up while he was still living in Auckland, and working for the TEAL Airline Company. It was powered by a 3016cc engine from a 1931 Ford B4 bread delivery van original acquired from Papatoetoe.

The Midget was 90 per cent completed when Ron moved to Glen Murray, where it formed part of the CR Racing Team (Chatteris-Roycroft).

Harry Chatteris ran the car at Western Springs, with three different drivers during the four years of his ownership. The first of these drivers was Warwick Lewis. Next came Bob Lucas, to whom both Harry Chatteris and Ron Roycroft give much credit for the set-up of the car.

Both men said Lucas was good at giving them driver feedback on adjustments of the front suspension settings. The final driver under Chatteris’ ownership was Leo Vercoe.
Roycroft ran the Midget at the Springs, at Sarawai Park in Newmarket and in hill climbs — entering the car as the RJR Special, one of many cars to carry that name.

In 1948, the Glen Murray driver won the Paekakariki Hillclimb in the dirt tracker, and he followed this up two years later with a victory in the New Zealand Hillclimb Championship at Patmos Road, Dunedin. He must have been a very keen man, as the roads from Auckland to Dunedin were predominantly gravel and that distance, with a trailer and Midget in tow, would have seemed a very long way indeed.

The Midget in Christchurch

Gerald ‘Jiggs’ Alexander purchased the car while he was a law student at Canterbury University in March, 1953, from Harry Chatteris in Auckland.
He originally bought the Midget for hill climbs and sprint events in the Canterbury region — there was no suggestion at the time that Aranui Speedway would allow cars to race. Jiggs entered the Midget in the Canterbury Car Club’s Kiwi Hillclimb; at that point it was complete with new front beam axle with standard camber, and a Ford Ruxell two-speed rear axle, and was registered for road use with a current warrant of fitness as required in the 1950s.

At dawn, while warming up the motor on the hill, a piston collapsed and a conrod went  through the engine block

At dawn, while warming up the motor on the hill, a piston collapsed and a conrod went through the engine block. The Christchurch engineering company of Beadweld repaired the engine block, while Ernie Ransley at Motor Reconditioners reground the crankshaft, and re-metalled the main and big-end bearings. The DSIR balanced the crankshaft, pistons and conrods — at that time this was regarded as very innovative.

The motor was reassembled and installed in the Midget by the then apprentice mechanics, Warner Mauger and Bill Luxton, on the strict understanding that they would not be able to service the motor due to their vintage car commitments.

Aranui Speedway

Father of the up-and-coming speedway rider, Ronnie, Les Moore was the speedway promoter for the 1953/54 season at Aranui. He introduced Midgets on the night of December 5, 1953.

Jiggs did not make his debut until the following week, as he had insufficient time to finish preparations on the B4 Midget since he was committed to his law examinations. Always controversial, on and off the track, this car/driver combination was, no doubt, a favourite with the public. The evening newspaper in Christchurch at that time was the Christchurch Star Sun. It followed, and reported in detail, every speedway meeting and, of course, focused on any accidents, protest, management wrangle, car modification, driver and owner changes. This added to the popularity of the local speedway scene overall. One of the highlights of the 1954-’55 season was the running of the Canterbury Midget Match Race Championship and its controversial outcome.

From his hospital bed he made arrangements for that well-known race car designer builder-driver, Hec Green, to take over his driving duties

He’d won two out of three heats, but during the running of the fourth heat Jiggs collided with the Willys-powered Midget of Bill Harris from Tai Tapu. Harris was regarded as Alexander’s main local opposition at the time. The B4 Midget was tossed into the air, and landed heavily. The bonnet came up and cut Jiggs’ right ear severely, necessitating a spell in hospital for several weeks.

The secret driver affair

The Championship Final was held over to the following week on the assumption that Jiggs would have recovered by then. However, his injuries were far more serious.

Now here was where Jiggs, the law student, came into play. From his hospital bed he made arrangements for that well-known race car designer-builder-driver, Hec Green, to take over his driving duties for the Saturday night’s Championship Final. In spite of never before driving any speedway Midget, Green finished second behind Harris, thus securing enough points to beat Harris by just one point.

However, this outcome was to remain contentious for years to come. Is it the driver or the car that accumulates points? This is where the dispute arose. The promoter claims he never knew of the ‘secret’ driver switch. Hec Green drove the Midget wearing all of Jiggs Alexander’s attire to give the impression to all who watched that in fact it was Jiggs at the wheel. When the truth was revealed the Christchurch Star Sun newspaper had a ball with this story. No doubt the ever-shrewd promoter rubbed his hands together with delight, as the publicity only added to speedway’s increasing profile, popularity and attendance. Jiggs raced this Midget, always wearing number 88, until the end of the 1955-’56 season.

He had a clash over track conditions with the promoter, Christchurch car dealer Des Wilde. The consequence of this was that Jiggs was barred for the rest of the season. Again, there was much newspaper publicity and crowd reaction. Even the widely-read nationwide weekend newspaper, The Truth, was moved to say that Jiggs has received rough justice.

This was the gauge of nationwide publicity that speedway racing, both in solo motorcycles and Midgets, received during the ’50s.

The Midget was then offered for sale, and the manager of Gold Band Taxis, Charlie Saunders, purchased it with the intention of getting the ban on Jiggs lifted.

Despite all efforts he was unsuccessful, but was granted permission to have Earl Wilde, a local and fast sidecar expert, race the car for the balance of that season.

Popeye

A new owner emerged for the 1956-’57 season in the form of Merv Sloan, racing under a new number — 1. It was while under his ownership that the car gained the nickname
‘Popeye’ after the spinach-eating cartoon character, and to this day it is always referred to as such.

Even the widely-read nationwide weekend newspaper, The Truth, was moved to say that Jiggs had received rough justice

Merv retained ownership and raced the car at Aranui until this track’s demise in 1959.

The new speedway at Templeton opened in 1962, and Merv competed at it every season, finally sharing the car with Royce Clive until the end of the 1966-’67 season.

A number of other drivers have competed in Popeye over the years, until it finally became uncompetitive with the gradual introduction of more sophisticated machinery. Drivers of Popeye included Terry Turner (1967-’68), Johnny McKitterick (1968-’69 and 1969-’70), Russell Mead (1970-’71), and finally Ron Jemmet, in the 1971-’72 season.

New lease of life

The Midget’s current owner, Stephen Foster, purchased Popeye in early 1991. Just two months later he commissioned Edwin Murray, a retired panel beater, to restore the Midget to its former glory. Edwin was the New Zealand Midget Car Champion for the 1967-’68 season, driving his Raymond Mays Zephyr-powered car.

Edwin repaired the body and painted it in Permanent Red, using a two-pack Santano system. The chassis, diff housing, front axle, steering box, in-out drive ’box and other miscellaneous fittings were all sandblasted, then powder-coated in black.

Every part was assembled using new zinc-plated bolts, nuts and washers. All new bearings and seals were used throughout the entire assembly process. Alexandra Platers was instructed to polish and chrome-plate, to the highest standard, all the bright metal parts.

Edwin, more commonly known as just ‘Eddy’, carefully assembled the finished parts. This process, as any restorer would attest, is the most enjoyable part of any restoration. This aspect completed, the Midget was sent to Derrick Henson to be re-trimmed. Then came the final touch in the form of the sign writing, applied by Phil Price.

High standards

While the chassis and body was being rebuilt, Graham Fineran re-ringed the engine and modified the conrods to take shell bearings. However, on the first trial run the crankshaft, including the repair carried out by Hewitts Welding, broke. A complete rethink was necessary.

On the new motor, all machining was carried out by Robin Gibbons. Alan Roberts was employed to manufacture counterweights for the new crankshaft, after which Motor

Reconditioners in Shirley, Christchurch, ground the crank to suit the bearing sizes. Smith Regrinds also of Christchurch, then line-bored the mains, followed by a complete balance of engine components. There have been no problems with this ‘new’ old B4 motor since.

The finished product is nothing short of fantastic, typical of Edwin’s high standard of workmanship. These days Popeye is reserved for shows and the occasional demonstration run, under the care of Edwin Murray.

Designed and built by the Stanton brothers in Christchurch, the Stanton-Corvette was an advanced sports racer in its day and is still a regular sight on South Island circuits. Eoin tells the story of this ground-shaking Kiwi special

Words Eoin Young | Photos Terry Marshall

The Stanton-Corvette thumped into rumbling life, shattering the paddock silence of the Powerbuilt Raceway at Ruapuna Park on a freezing Sunday morning.

The night before there had been rain and hail at Jade Stadium while the All Blacks trounced the Lions. Now we were transported back in racing time to a car created by a Kiwi crew that pre-dated the Chevrolet-engined McLaren CanAm cars by a couple of summers. The grandstands named for Bruce McLaren and Denny Hulme watched the circuit quietly, without spectators.

There was a McLaren CanAm family resemblance in the Stanton, perhaps generated by the more recent snub nose that replaced the original chisel front as raced by Maurie Stanton in 1964, and later by speedway star, Geoff Mardon. It actually looked quite elegant in a brutally home-made fashion.

The Stanton brothers

In fact the Stanton brothers had made a habit of anticipating racing design. They were both in their twenties in 1953 when they built the big aero-engined special with an inverted four-cylinder 6.1-litre Gipsy Major between the driver and the back wheels. Only two teams had done this before them with any success — Auto Union with 373kW (500 horsepower) in the 1930s and Cooper with a 500cc in the 1940s.

The brothers were always short of finance so they cobbled up their own parts or robbed them from road cars

The brothers were always short of finance, so they cobbled up their own parts or robbed them from road cars. The special was ready for the first New Zealand Grand Prix at Ardmore in 1954. In a profile written recently by Rochelle Evans, she says, “The car qualified 17th out of 42, but was left out of the final because it didn’t have the look of British and Australian imports. A motoring journalist described it as a ‘slab-sided ugly duckling’ which required streamlining ‘to tear less of a jagged hole in the air.’ Maurice and Charlie went to the race officials and successfully pointed out race regulations could not exclude any car because of its looks.”

They were allowed to start from the back where they couldn’t be seen, and Maurie had made his way up to seventh before retiring with worn brakes. Bear in mind that the brakes had been borrowed from a Morris Minor!

It had been decided after practice at Ardmore that Maurie would be the driver, and Charlie would be the engineer. It was an arrangement that worked well. Maurie set an Anzac land speed record at 173.8mph (280kph) and won hill climbs, but the car had its limitations when it came to the longer-distance races that were becoming popular. The brothers were bending the performance envelope of the old engine, running it to 3200rpm when the factory manual recommended a maximum of 2400. The oil boiled.  Charlie observed that “The piston rings fluttered and there was so much blow-by into the crankcase that the oil was boiling and Maurice was driving with one eye on the oil pressure gauge and the other on the track.”

Chevrolet-power

The McLaren team in Britain had fitted an aluminium Oldsmobile V8 in place of the four-cylinder Coventry Climax engine in the Zerex in 1964, but it was 1966 before Bruce could be persuaded to switch to cast iron Chevrolet power. Bruce was convinced that the lighter weight of the Oldsmobile was a must-have, but Chris Amon and fellow-Kiwi team mechanic, Bruce Harre, felt that the extra power of the heavier Chevvy would more than make up for the weight difference. They went to the lengths of strapping plumber’s lead to the chassis rails around the Olds-powered car’s engine bay to equal the extra weight of the Chev — and Chris went out to lap Silverstone faster than he had been able to in testing a few hours before! Bruce took some convincing that Chris hadn’t been driving out of his skin just to prove his point — and then went on to follow the Stanton’s lead and fit Chevrolet power!

The brothers decided to go back to a layout they were familiar with and started to build a space frame rear-engined car

The Stantons avidly read motor racing magazines from all over the world and were aware that American V8s were becoming popular in performance cars around 1957. They imported one to replace the four-cylinder Gipsy, but there was an immediate problem of increasing the wheelbase, so they set out to build a new car. The result was an ungainly, lengthy machine that poses the question as to how much worse the Cropduster would have been with the Chevrolet mill fitted in place of the Gipsy.

White Elephant

Charlie, now 85, recalled that the only rear-engined cars then were the small Coopers, and there was no suitable transaxle available, so the decision was taken to build a front-engined single-seater car. Immediate problems were skinny tyres and too much muscle from the Chevrolet V8.

“The only racing tyres were 600×16 for lighter cars and we had far too much wheelspin. The harder Maurice drove, the slower the lap-times were because of the wheel-spin.”

The front-engined car raced for only one season in 1960. “It was useless,” Charlie recalled. “It was painted white and we called it The White Elephant.” After that the Stanton racers were always red. “I read somewhere that the car was once painted pink, but it never was while we owned it.”

They were the first to run slicks, and they ran into a lot of trouble with the scrutineers. “We bought the fattest road tyres we could find and had a retread company buff all the treads off. The scrutineers didn’t like them at all, but in the end they were accepted.”

Birth of the Stanton-Corvette

The brothers decided to go back to a layout they were familiar with, and started to build a space frame rear-engined car with aircraft air shock absorbers, a Borg Warner T10 gearbox and a 1935 Ford V8 car differential. The Austin Healey 100S had disc brakes, but they were not available to the brothers in New Zealand, so they made their own discs and callipers.

“He was enjoying it so much that we had to black flag him to get him off the circuit! He thought he had been getting clutch slip — but it was actually wheelspin!”

The rear suspension was later converted to twin coil springs each side at the rear, and in front they used Mini hydralastic units. They made their own rack and pinion using chains and sockets. Firestone was persuaded to import some of the new, fatter tyres used at Indianapolis.

The brothers then took the decision to rebuild the single-seater as a sports car for the 1964 season, with the object of running in sports car races as well as the feature event. This lasted as long as it took Maurice to show well, winning the sports car race and finishing second in the trophy race. From then on the rules changed and sports cars were banned from the main events.

Maurie had crashed in Mt Maunganui and at Waimate he crashed again, hitting a power pole and fracturing a hip and leg, eventually being extricated, soaked in leaking fuel. The risk was starting to outweigh the rewards and the brothers agreed to offer the drive to Geoff Mardon, the speedway rider who had been up with the best on the international cinder scene. Geoff was in the same frame as Barry Briggs and Ronnie Moore. He would later marry Ronnie’s sister, Val.

It has been said that if Mardon had concentrated on championship points more than prize money, he would have run Ronnie close for the two world titles he won. Geoff’s best finish was third in the 1953 championship. He had raced his own 500cc Staride on New Zealand circuits, and also gained a name for himself in the RA Vanguard. He was up to third place in the Dunedin street race behind Ross Jensen and Bruce McLaren when a rear wheel came adrift.

Reunion

Geoff was out at Ruapuna when Russell Greer brought the quiet track to life that Sunday morning, and he instantly accepted the offer of a drive. He was immediately back to form, remembering the days when he raced the big Stanton-Corvette for real. Geoff was 78, Greer 59. It reminded Russell of offering Maurie a drive at Ruapuna after he had restored the car. “He was enjoying it so much that we had to black flag him to get him off the circuit! He thought he had been getting clutch slip — but it was actually wheelspin!” Mardon talked about his major moment at Waimate. “We only had three laps of practice, and I was flying on the first lap when I totally missed the right-hander at the end of the pit straight and crashed straight ahead into a shop window. I remember that the window was full of Scalextric model cars!”

The space-frame had been stretched to accommodate two seats, but the original monoposto pedigree is still there. The central steering column remains. The steering wheel, now on the right, is connected to the original column by chain-drive¦ In rear view, the car sits squat. The massive chains either side of the differential are a metal signature of the Kiwi special. Russell Greer has owned the car for 30 years. It was navy blue when he bought it from an advertisement offering the car “with potential to convert to a road car.”

“It was one of those things. I needed it¦ I had to have it! I took it home and showed it to my wife, Cheryl. She said ‘D’you think you’ll ever grow up?’”

The Stanton-Corvette’s engine now displaces 5.7 litres (350ci) — ask Russell Greer what sort of power it has, he grins, and says “enough”

Geoff Mardon in Stanton-Corvette in Timaru street race

Enough power

The Stanton-Corvette’s engine now displaces 5.7 litres (350ci) — ask Greer what sort of power it has, and he grins, and says “enough.”
Charlie remembers that they had 373kW (500bhp) when Geoff Mardon was racing the car. He had visited Traco Engineering in California when Wally Willmott was there, working on McLaren’s Traco engines for the CanAm series.

“It was one of those things. I needed it¦ I had to have it! I took it home and showed it to my wife, Cheryl. She said ‘D’you think you’ll ever grow up?’”

Messrs Travers and Coons were renowned as being economical with information when strangers were about, but Charlie obviously came with good Kiwi credentials, and an introduction from Willmott would have done no harm at all. “Jim Travers gave me all the information we needed to build our engine to full Traco spec, but we never had our engine on a dyno,” Charlie says. There was more than enough power for the home-made drivetrain. “The Borg Warner T10 gearbox kept stripping teeth, and then the Ford V8 diff couldn’t handle it and we were stripping teeth from it as well.”

Mardon had been able to race on an equal footing with Andy Buchanan in the 250LM Ferrari, but when the Elfin CanAm car came on the scene the Stanton’s days were numbered.

The car was sold to Jim Boyd in 1967, and Charlie went to the UK. Bruce McLaren had originally offered him a job whenever he decided to come to Britain, but when he arrived there were no vacancies in the McLaren team. Bruce was as good as his word, however, and arranged for Charlie to work in the Brabham engine preparation workshop. He was delighted to be assigned the task of working on the Repco V8s for Denny Hulme — and history records that Denny won the World Championship that season, with Charlie Stanton’s reliable power behind him.

Hands on

The brothers retired from hands-on racing when Charlie went to Britain, but Maurie maintained his involvement and worked with son Andrew on building a Ford V8-engined coupe along the lines of a Cobra, and it still appears at classic events in New Zealand. The Stantons had originally modified a modest air-cooled vee-twin BSA three-wheeler sports car to four wheels and improved performance. In restless retirement Maurie bought another BSA, performed the additional wheel change, and fitted the performance 1000cc vee-twin he had used on the original car. That first BSA had been blue, but the later car was red and is now owned by Barry Gurdler in Christchurch and campaigned in vintage trials.

Maurie died in 1997. Charlie and his wife live in restless retirement in Nelson. His hobby is paragliding these days, and he is the second oldest glider pilot in the country.

On Queen’s Birthday weekend this year, Charlie had a double celebration — he was appointed a member of the New Zealand Order of Merit, on his 85th birthday. It was fitting recognition for one of New Zealand’s true motor sport pioneers.

Although originally on an equal footing with Andy Buchanan’s Ferrari 250LM, when the Elfin CanAm car came on the scene the Stanton’s days were numbered.

Words: Penn McKay
Photos: Jared Clark

“A driver’s car pure and simple … Everything about it is quality … predictable and sure-footed ¦ awesomely quick ¦ breathtaking ¦ a style and distinction all its own ¦ acceleration figures that will leave you boggle—minded.” Sports Car World, 1969

Sporadically I make missionary forays to the West Island — that large lump of land that completes the triangle of North Island, South Island and West Island. Recently, I made one of these trips, and drove from Melbourne to Adelaide along the Great Ocean Road — a very distinctive route because, unlike most Australian highways, it has a whole series of interesting twists and turns, allowing Aussies to practice proper driving skills.

To illustrate my point, on the return trip via an Australian transworld highway, we easily averaged 100kph for well over 600 kilometres. Whenever there was a little curve there would be a plethora of signs emphasising the fact that the road was no longer perfectly straight, and it was time to slowly turn the steering wheel.

But the Great Ocean Road is a real drivers’ thoroughfare. I gather that local car enthusiasts frequently have club runs along this road, stopping overnight at a motel where we also stopped. Consequently, we found ourselves joining a party of friendly West Islanders who were enjoying driving a group of very attractive sports cars which were totally new to me.

A mixture of coupes and convertibles from the same marque, Australian-designed and built and badged as ‘Bolwell’ — the collection included variations on the theme, illustrating how Bolwell Cars had developed its line of cars.

I’d never heard of them, let alone ever seen one, but I must say I was very impressed — not just with the looks but also with the specifiications. Clearly, Bolwells progressively became more beautiful — to my Italian-biased eye — but all came equipped at the very least with a large maroon Holden six or a chrome-topped Ford V8. Both are engines I have a lot of respect for. Heaps of potential, simple, strong and totally reliable just how I like my motors.

Respect

I’m not one to idealise Australians, but since they are close relatives we have to give them the cognisance that that status deserves, and that includes admiring their toys. — made clear that this car deserves lots of respect. I’m very inclined to the thought that the only real limitation to the marque’s reputation concerns the smallness of total production — less than 1000 Bolwells all up and a mere 130 or so Nagaris were produced.

But, as you’ll read elsewhere, Bolwell is returning this year and very much as a The particular toy featured in this article — a MkVIII Bolwell Nagari — is something that excites my very considerable jealousy, and I’d look at one of them, no matter what the condition, if it came up for grabs. Style, looks, simplicity and performance all combine to give cause to envy our younger brothers for a change.

Indeed, I would even marry one of their (Nagari-owning) women. When it comes to naming a marque of car, I get the feeling that Bolwell is one of those names that doesn’t stir up much in the way of male testosterone — not like emotively loaded blasts from the past such as Jaguar, Ferrari, or even MG. However, Bolwell never made a car that didn’t have sporting aspirations.

Consequently, a morning spent with our featured Nagari — owned by Simon Peryer swept-up reincarnation of the classic Nagari. In any case, even with the older versions it wouldn’t take long to get emotionally tangled up with this Australian beauty and want to own one. Simon Peryer’s Nagari is believed to be the only example in New Zealand, and it’s presented in a prime Concours condition — exciting seriously lustful interest. It’s not a putdown to term Simon’s Nagari as a poor man’s Ferrari — mind you, Simon also uses a ’65 Mustang as an everyday car, so he must have a V8 fixation — and the economics to indulge it.

History behind the marque

Campbell Bolwell was an enthusiast from early on, and spent his youth in the ’50s putting together cars and helping his brother, Graeme, build up a Jaguar-Healey special. A third brother, Winston, was also into making cars when in 1960, the brothers produced in succession a Bolwell MkI, MkII and MkIII, leading to their fi rst production kit.

This kit — the MkIV of 1963 — was for a Clubman-type racer made to take a Cortina or Peugeot 1.6-litre engine, or even a Zephyr or (grey) Holden six. The Bolwells made about 220 cars from 1961-’65, selling more than 50 kits for enthusiasts to build up at home. Some of these early cars are still out there — it’s believed that some are still unfinished. These were not your everyday models — a dozen hardtop variations had gullwing doors, As a footnote, it appears that the car experience built up the Bolwells’ business as specialists in glass fi bre construction, a medium in which they would become very big, and still are — many of the giant truck units in Australia are equipped with Bolwell-made cabs. Today, the firm is substantial, successful, and currently behind the proposed re-launch of a new version of the Nagari.

Lotus influence

Released in 1964, the MkV Bolwell was a distinct step forward, and standardised the use of Holden components. This car showed that Bolwell Cars was serious about producing component cars with a wide range of options, and suitable for road or track use. The MkVII, released in 1966, established the company’s reputation for offering quality yet affordable sports cars. What happened to the MkVI? Well, only one was made, a mid-engined car that looked a bit like a Lotus 23 but was deemed too expensive for production.

The MkV’s Lotus 23 looks are not too surprising because, around this time, Graeme had just spent about six months working with Lotus and Colin Chapman, so it’s hardly surprising that Bolwell took some cues from that experience — notably with the final development of the Nagari.

Bolwell Cars had already been taking design cues from Lotus, and Graeme was able to bring Chapman’s philosophy on design and performance back with him and adapt it to local requirements. However, while agreeing with the general concepts established at Lotus, he didn’t entirely agree with some of Chapman’s ideas.

Nagari — Aboriginal for ‘flowing’

Soon after his return from the UK, Graeme started to modify a MkVII body very much in the light of his recent Lotus (and, by implication, European) experience. For example, the bonnet on the MkVII was a fairly flimsy affair, but the Nagari’s has a solid feel to it, due mainly to the deeply rolled edges and the fitting of hinge pins directly into the bonnet.

The MkVII had been built around Holden components, and the whole car was constructed on a sheet metal backbone chassis similar to that used by the Lotus Elan.

When I met club members at that Australian motel, I was very taken with the classic red Holden straight-six motors sitting in the earlier Bolwells. I also noted that the engines were well set back in their engine bays — whether Holden six or Ford V8. For the Nagari, Ford was to provide most of the mechanical components, and the chassis was lengthened and modifi ed to accommodate Ford’s V8 range of engines — even then the Ford V8 was 30 per cent lighter than the Holden motor of the MkVII. The Nagari’s standard engine was originally Ford’s Windsor 302 V8 (at 4949cc), but that was replaced with the Cleveland 302 within a couple of years. Importantly, the engine mounted as far back as possible gives a weight distribution close to 50:50.

In standard form the Windsor V8 put out 179kW (240bhp) and 474Nm of torque — enough to propel the 927kg car to 161kph in 15.9 seconds with a top speed of 209kph. Standing quarter-mile times of 14.9 seconds were recorded as standard.

Sports Car Quarterly magazine compared the Nagari in 1969 with a Morgan Plus 8 (standing quarter in 16.0 and 0-161 in 22.0), a Porsche 911 T (16.6, 24) and the equally priced Lotus Elan SE (16.8, 25.0).

There were also a few cars produced with Ford 351 V8 engines (at 5752cc), which cut quarter- mile times to 13.8 seconds, reaching 161kph just a second later and continuing on to a top speed of around 241kph.

Suspension was by coil springs all round — independent on unequal length wishbones of Bolwell’s own design and  adjustable dampers up front; while the rear used a standard Falcon GT live axle with two oblique torque arms, trailing arms and adjustable dampers.

Austin 1800 power-assisted rack-and-pinion steering helped with the damned corners. Stoppers were Kelsey Hayes 286mm ventilated front disc brakes and 254mm rear drums, each set run on separate circuits. Bolwell-designed 14×6-inch alloy wheels were supplied with Michelin XAS tyres.

Simon Peryer’s Nagari

I came back from West island determined to share with NZCC readers the delights of the Bolwell, although we didn’t have a reference car in New Zealand. Still, it’s no good getting older if you aren’t getting luckier, and that’s what happened. A returning Kiwi, Simon Peryer, contacted the editor, wondering if we might be interested in his freshly imported Nagari. The decision was easy. Simon’s car was bought sight unseen, and he had it driven to Sydney where he thought his job was taking him — following stints in Hong Kong and Singapore — but, more recently, his firm decided that as a good Kiwi it was time he had a recharge and so he packed up his Bolwell and came home.

He first ran across Bolwells in the same way that I did — meeting them on a club run and being instantly smitten with the cars. Also, like me, he’d never seen one before then. The Nagari’s unique styling got to him — unquestionably it’s a sophisticated design worthy of any high-end European marque.

“I think that the rear deck grows on you,” Simon said. But for me it was the best part of the designed appearance, and NZCC deputy editor, Tim Nevinson, believed that Bolwell had done this buttressed rear deck better than anybody else — there you go, youth and beauty agreeing with age and wisdom. Moulds for the Nagari’s glass-fi bre body are still available to club members so there are no panel problems and, in fact, many Nagaris (including our featured example) have been fi tted with new bodies which, of course, take advantage of more modern glass-fi bre developments. Prior to his return home, Simon decided that the Bolwell deserved some attention — the car used four litres of oil on the trip to Sydney. Additionally, Simon has a history with motor sport, having extensively raced a Datsun 240Z. He didn’t buy this very potent Aussie Express to give his granny a thrill.

Subsequently, the Nagari’s tired V8 was rebuilt to give 201kW (270bhp) — but even that wasn’t enough so Simon imported a 302 competition block with a stroker kit and petrol injection. The end result is 317kW (425bhp) at the fl ywheel — 246kW (330bhp) at the wheels. All that power travels, via a Ford top-loader gearbox, to a 2.9 Borg Warner limited slip differential. The car’s basic running gear is Falcon GT at the rear, Holden Torana up front.

Rear suspension is by a four-link system with a Panhard rod, coil springs and adjustable Koni shock absorbers. Konis are also used at the front, while AP Racing brakes provide the stopping power. In this form, this Nagari has now completed 10,000 to 11,000km. To me its a very beautiful car with loads of everything good built in, proprietary parts means no spares problems and, just to top it off, it’s a thoroughly enjoyable muscle car with dazzling performance and a top speed estimated to be around 257kph (160mph).

On The Road

Simon commented that when you’re in the Nagari, you’re low down as if sitting in a bath and you reach up for the gear lever. We have our own version of The Stig (Tim Nevinson), who takes over from us oldies when it comes to road-testing truly serious cars — and the Nagari is very serious!

Tim is by trade a development engineer and used to work for Jaguar as a development driver — he’s forgotten more about that sort of driving than most of us know. Actually, Tim’s usually sent on these road tests because I’m a devout coward and, anyway, his grin is so big that the cameras easily capture it when he’s behind the wheel of anything. That grin shows that he’s enjoying everything — either that or he’s using something mind-alteringly pleasant.

Tim commented that the Nagari’s very long throttle travel meant you could drive it normally, “If you want to really boot it, you’ve got to make a conscious effort to use the grunt — beautiful noise, too!”

I felt brave enough to passenger Simon in the car, and when he gave the Nagari its head the bellow of eight big pots provided sound effects to accompany the physical forces pinning you back in the seat — helping me understand Tim’s comments. I love this car; not only is it a giant-killer but you know that every part in it is simple and efficient and can be bought at the local dairy.

BOLWELL NAGARI COUPE

A NEW BOLWELL NAGARI FOR 2007

The heart of the new model, expected to debut this year, is likely to be a transverse, mid-mounted supercharged version of the alloy, 24-valve quad-cam 3.0-litre V6 engine used in the superseded Toyota Camry. The worked engine in the Nagari is expected to produce 260kW, providing almost the same level of performance as the latest model Holden Commodore’s 6.0-litre V8 and on par with the Ford Falcon’s 5.7-litre V8.

Campbell Bolwell expects this urge should push the Nagari from 0-100ph in the low four-second mark. A carbonfibre centre capsule with a front and rear welded space-frame will give the Nagari its strength.

The prototype has a big front-mounted radiator, with Campbell’s design for a four-wheel independent suspension setup with a double-wishbone configuration.

Track-day racers are catered for, with adjustable Koni springs and shock absorbers planned for the production model. The high-performance brakes are vented and slotted discs — 330mm on the front and 295mm on the rear.

Design elements carried over from the original will include the swooping sill line running down the side of the car, and the deep flying-buttress pillars at the rear.

The shape of the windows on each door will also hark back to the original. Like the original, it’s still a family business.

Campbell is the director and head designer, brother Graeme is the technical manager, and Campbell’s sons, Owen, and Nagari co-designer, Vaughan, will look after marketing and production respectively.

Campbell says he never lost the dream that one day Bolwell would produce another Nagari, even after the company was forced into liquidation in 1974, weighed down by “onerous” legislation designed to stem the flood of high-performance cars taking to Australian roads.

Thanks

I couldn’t have put this article together without the very considerable help given by members of this club — notably Maurice Alexander and Don Elliot. Both gentlemen took pity on my dearth of data and sent loads of material. Which has largely been regurgitated here in the article. Bolwell Car Clubs exist across Australia, and they constantly hear from people around the world that own a Bolwell — from Spain, and Germany to the United States.

Bolwell Car Club of Australia:

http://bollwell.com.au

Bolwell Cars: www.bolwellcarcompany.com

Words: Eoin Young
Photos: Terry Marshall

The little Connaught team always fought above its weight and was rewarded when a young man training to be a dentist became the first British driver to win a Grand Prix in a British car since Henry Segrave won the 1923 French GP in a Sunbeam. Tony Brooks beat the best Italy could field on the day when he won the 1955 Syracuse GP for Connaught, finishing over a mile ahead of Musso’s works Maserati, averaging a shade over 100mph and setting a new lap record. The 23-year-old had spent the flight to Syracuse studying dental textbooks for an upcoming examination.

Brooks says he was picked to drive for Connaught, “because they couldn’t find anyone else at short notice.” He had never driven the car before and he was racing against the Maserati works team! He couldn’t afford a hire car, so he learned the course on a scooter. As well, one of the aged Connaught transporters had broken down, missing the fi rst day of practice.

They told Brooks not to rev over 7000rpm, so he thought it wiser to stay under 6500rpm. Brooks and Musso disputed the lead, with Brooks saving his brakes and letting Musso past into the hairpin only to pass him on the way out. “Without realising it, he was playing cat-and-mouse with Musso, and he had completely demoralised the Italian,” wrote Denis Jenkinson in his Motor Sport report. ‘Done his head in,’ as they would write today¦

Rodney Clarke and Mike Oliver

The Connaught team was the fruition of a dream by a pair of RAF pilots, Rodney Clarke and Mike Oliver, who would join forces with a company called Continental Cars to set up as a Bugatti dealership post war, but when the French company failed to face the market in the ’40s, they concentrated on selling used Bugattis. The partners were kindred spirits, campaigning a pair of road equipped Grand Prix Bugattis — Oliver in a Type 35B single-cam 2.3, and Clarke in perhaps the fi nest Bugatti of all time, the Type 59 3.3-litre which ran against Mercedes and Auto Union, driven by Dreyfus, Brivio, Wimille and Nuvolari.

The pair’s first sports car was based on a Lea Francis, and three cars were built. In 1970 I bought a Jaguar-engined Kougar for £7500 from specialist dealer Stephen Langton, who took me on a tour of the barns that contained his stock. I had never seen one of his cars before, and he told me it was a 1948 Connaught L2 sports-racer. The price? The same as I’d just paid for the Kougar! I bought the Connaught as well, and sold it to Peter Briggs for his museum in York, Western Australia. As fate would have it, that same car came up for auction at the Bonhams Goodwood sale in July this year, where it sold for £30,000. The name Connaught was actually a mish-mash combination of Con-tinental and the word aut-omobile. It built cars for Formula 2 and then Formula 1 in the early ’50s as the Grand Prix grandees came and went, and for a few years F2 became F1 to maintain grids.

Under the hammer

Brooks scored Connaught’s famous victory in 1955, but after seven years of ambitions chasing dreams, the stark fi nancial reality arrived. The Autocar reporter in September 1957 could have been writing about Arrows in 2003: “Only when such an organisation is pulverised beneath the auctioneer’s hammer is the full measure of its background and the financial outlay involved appreciated. First there are the cars — those highly-bred and ever temperamental performers — together with their five transporters. Behind them, the many and varied props which support the glamorous motor racing scene. First, perhaps the drawing office, with its silent, studious equipment for the specialist designers and their trusted henchmen — stools and drawing boards, draughting and printing machinery, cabinets and accessories.

Nor can anything be made without a store of raw material, with its inevitable accumulated excess of one thing and shortage of another.” The Connaught auction was held over three days in mid-September 1957 and included “Six Connaught Formula 1 Grand Prix Racing Cars (fully prepared for Grand Prix racing) and with Full Racing Equipment.”

Nostalgia shared the limelight with the cars and the bidders. A faded newspaper cutting catches the mood. “When the Connaught ‘stable’ came under the auctioneer’s hammer in the racing car workshop at Send, Surrey, there was only a dusty garland of laurel leaves to remind bidders of the racing victories which the cars have won for Britain. The garland was the one presented to Tony Brooks when he won the Syracuse Grand Prix in a Connaught in 1955, when the Connaught team beat the official Maserati team.” Five of the cars sold for a total of £9225. One, which had passed into the ownership of the Italian, Pietro Scotti, was withdrawn when there was no bid over £500. The auctioneer was asking for an opening bid of £2000.

“Motor racing enthusiasts cheered when John Coombs, the racing driver, after bidding unsuccessfully for three cars, succeeded in getting a B2 Connaught for £1750.”

History steps in

Then came the bids that would echo down the years in Grand Prix racing. “Another well-known driver, Stuart Lewis-Evans, was with Mr L Underwood of Messrs Compton and Ecclestone, who bought two of the B-series cars for £2100 and £1950. It is likely that Lewis-Evans will drive one of these cars, in which he won the Richmond Trophy at Goodwood this year.”

We can assume that Lewis-Evans was bidding on behalf of his mentor and racing manager, Bernie Ecclestone, for the two cars were entered for the 1958 New Zealand Grand Prix. Lewis- Evans was to drive the B3 aerodynamic ‘toothpaste tube’ and the B7 with a standard ‘Syracuse’ type body for Roy Salvadori. Salvadori finished fifth and Lewis-Evans was out late in the race with engine failure.

Salvadori says they were given instructions from Ecclestone not to bring the Connaughts back to Britain. “Stuart came in all smiles one morning before breakfast in Auckland, and said he had sold his car. I asked him how much he had got for it, and he said it rather depended on how much the stamps fetched.” Lewis-Evans had entered into an agreement to swap the Connaught for an album of supposedly valuable Hungarian stamps! “I suggested that he contact Bernie rather quickly, and when he came back from making the phone call, which wasn’t the work of a moment from New Zealand in those days, he was ashen. I had the feeling that Bernie hadn’t agreed to the deal on the stamps¦ but in fact I’m sure that Bernie would have done the deal for the stamp album if he’d been there himself!” Salvadori laughs at the memory.

The cars presumably went back to Britain, because Bernie made ineffective attempts to qualify at Monaco and the British Grand Prix in 1958.

Stuart Lewis-Evans had been signed for Vanwall in 1957 when Connaught withdrew from Grand Prix racing, and he drove for the team for two seasons, with pole increase the wheelbase, and the build run picked up on chassis A3 — so A5 was actually the fourth Formula 2 Connaught powered by the 2.0-litre modified version of the Lea Francis motor. For nearly half a century, Eric Thompson believed he had owned and raced A5, as he explains: “The property developers who were bulldozing the Connaught workshops in Send, Surrey, decided to throw a party for anyone connected with Connaught. I met up with Leslie Marr at the function, and he said he had bought A5 as an unpainted brand-new car in August 1952. This prompted an indepth investigation which showed A6 to be my car. Not A5. For the record, A1 was Kenneth McAlpine’s, and I don’t know where it is now. Maybe Bernie (Ecclestone) has it. A2 was never built in series but was in fact built up from spares and recently sold at auction. A3 was bought by Ken Downing, and then sold to Rob Walker for Tony Rolt and me to drive. A4 was a works car then sold to Johnny Claes, now owned and driven by David Wenman and Whizzo Williams. A5 was Leslie Marr’s, and he sold it to Bill Holt. A6 was a works car and was sold to Ecurie Ecosse.”

Restoring A5

Christchurch carrosserie specialist and car restorer, Les Marshall, handled the rescue and rebuild of Connaught A5 now owned by Grant Clearwater, who spends much of each year in the UK masterminding the Seat international rally programme and the entries in the British Touring Car Championship. “I first spoke to Grant about the Connaught in the UK soon after he had positions at Monza and Zandvoort, but without a win. He had qualified third for the final event of the 1958 season in Morocco but the transmission locked solid, the Vanwall somersaulted in fl ames and he succumbed to his burns six days later in London. Roy Salvadori enjoys retirement in style, with an apartment overlooking the starting grid in Monaco. Bernie Ecclestone is still Bernie Ecclestone.

Connaught’s New Zealand connection

The saga of Connaught A5 became confused as early as the original chassis numbering. After chassis A1 had been made as a works car, chassis A2 was made, but it hung unused in the rafters for years because the decision had been made to bought it, early in 2002, from the Fenton family in Auckland,” Marshall said. All the engineering work in the Connaught rescue was handled by Brian Taylor.

Connaught A5 had been brought into New Zealand by Ron Duncan in 1957, but he competed in only a few events before selling the car to Jim Fenton, who converted it to a sports car along the lines of the SLR sports Connaughts. He crashed the car in the 1962 Dunedin Road Race at Cemetery Corner, bouncing over the steep kerb and rolling down the hillside.

Fenton never raced the car again, but had started on converting it back to a single-seater. Fortunately he had kept most of the body parts, but when the car arrived down from Auckland to Gore, and then to Marshall’s workshops, it was a body wired to the chassis and several boxes of bits. It was a complicated puzzle for Marshall to solve.

“Fenton must have repaired the back end, because it had a badly bent De Dion tube when it crashed and that had been replaced. I had only seen a few photos of the car at Dunedin after it crashed.

“I had boxes of bits and pieces and I had to try and sort them out and find out where they were from, because they had been cut off the chassis and rounded up. I had to try and line up the body, the tanks and the whole car again. Luckily those major parts had all been kept. The only part missing was the coneshaped rear of the airbox that covered the carburettors.

“We didn’t really have a lot to go on. We had those few brackets and we had to work it out. Luckily I had a copy of To Draw A Straight Line, the book written by Connaught designer Johnny Johnson. It was invaluable, because it had a page-size plan of the car and I managed to have it enlarged and figured the layout from there.

“Then I discovered that the chassis had a huge bow in it where it had gone over the gutter and gone down through the trees in Dunedin. Grant searched the world to track down the right size chassis tube, and he eventually found some in France and had it sent out.

“When I had stripped it to a bare chassis I put the tubes back in and in the meantime I made up all the brackets necessary to go on the chassis to hold the tanks, the rear A-arms, all the body and the brake pedal assembly¦ that all had to be made new. It was very much a case of retro engineering¦”

The original wheels were magnesium alloy rather than wirespoked because it saved weight, and they were paradoxically bolt-on because the F2 races they were built for were too short to require pit-stop tyre changes.

Leslie Marr

Leslie Marr was the first owner of A5, and he commissioned the car to be painted in his own colour scheme of green with a maroon grille, nose band and wheels. Marshall discovered the remains of the Marr maroon hue when they removed the bent and buckled grille, which was now painted yellow over the original colour. The maroon colour was also showing under the nose, so he managed to rescue enough to match the colour.  He made a new grille, and from the remains of one mirror he made two new ones.

Leslie Marr, now 84, was kept in touch with the rebuild of his old racer, and at the launch party of the reborn Connaught in October, 2006, at Marshall’s workshops, a letter was read out with Marr saying, “What wonderful news that the old car will race again. I would love to see her back in action again. Don’t forget to be very careful not to over-rev the engine!” Marr had raced Connaught A5 with its 2.0-litre Formula 2 engine in the 1954 British Grand Prix, qualifying 16th and finishing 13th, seven laps down on the 2.5-litre works Ferraris of Gonzales and Hawthorn who finished one-two.

The following year Marr sold the car to Bill Holt, who loaned it to Graham Whitehead for the Avon Trophy race at Castle Combe, where he finished sixth. In 1956 Holt took the car to South Africa where he scored a win, a disqualifi cation, a fastest lap and a retirement. Ron Duncan bought the car at the end of the 1957 season and shipped it to New Zealand.

Clever box of tricks

In an intriguing twist of technical history, the A-type Connaughts were all fitted with the Wilson four-speed pre-selector epicyclic transmissions. I wonder whether this was a download of Whitney Straight’s preference for the pre-selector. Kenneth McAlpine, one of the original partners in the Connaught organisation, had bought and raced Straight’s 8CM Maserati Grand Prix car, which was fi tted with the Wilson-type pre-selector transmission, and before the 8CM Straight had raced with a Wilson transmission in his K3 MG, which Tazio Nuvolari drove to win the 1933 Ards TT when Straight was unable to drive in the race himself.

McAlpine explained the pre-selector to historian Thomas O’Keefe: “The pre-selector gear shift worked like a motorcycle shift, and you flicked it up or down and then when you declutched, you freed up one band and locked the next one, automatically adjusting the tension on the bands in the process. Although the brake bands tended to wear out initially, and getting the gear ratios correct took some doing, the pre-selector ’box was regarded by one and all as a clever box of tricks.

“It made the car easier to drive. If you were going into a corner, on the straight you would fl ick the lever up, have both hands on the wheel, then, at the critical moment, you would operate the clutch pedal and that changed the gear. Thus you selected the change of gear at a time convenient to yourself.”