The original Range Rover was the catalyst for the fastest growth market in the world of transport this century — call it what you will, four-wheel-drive, Sports Utility Vehicle or Recreational Vehicle, it seems nearly everybody wants one

It would never have occurred to the designers of the Range Rover that their up-market Land Rover would become the definitive country-set luxury car, or indeed a sought-after cult car. However, that it became the reference point in terms of its off-road ability would not have surprised them — although they may have been surprised at how long the Range Rover has remained at the top of the heap.
Simply put, the Range Rover is an icon, one of the most significant vehicle designs from the second half of the 20th century. It is pleasing to report that, despite the roller-coaster fortunes of the company’s ownership, the Range Rover remains with us. It may be wildly different in terms of sophistication, but it is still the trail blazer that it was in the ’70s.

Grass Roots

Range Rover roots go back to WWII. The Rover factory in Solihull, near Birmingham — having been a medium to small producer of cars before the war — was pouring out armaments, and had expanded vastly to do so. The company was also one of the prime movers behind the allies’ development of the jet engine.

Its production capacity, once peace was resumed, was too much for the sort of vehicles it was producing originally. A new small car was mooted, inspired by the Willys ‘Jeep.’ Maurice and Spencer Wilks, who ran the Rover company, hit upon the idea of producing a four-wheel-drive utility vehicle aimed at the agricultural and military market — both areas governments at home and abroad wanted to redevelop, and to which they were accordingly directing funds.

The key to the Wilks’ brothers achievement was that their concepts were soundly thought out, with no half measures; the Land Rover’s off-road ability was second to none, and simple body panels bolted onto a separate chassis allowed for easy repair, wherever the car was in the world.

Not only was it a success on the home market but a very successful export — something else to make the British government of the day smile benignly.

Its straightforward nature made the Land Rover a no-nonsense tool, and it remained so for the next 60 years and is still in production today as the Defender.

Had the Wilks’ brothers had any inkling this would be the case, the Range Rover would never have happened. They already knew the Land Rover was crude and inhospitable even in the ’50s, and it concerned them that, with a better economy, the farming community would turn away from Land Rover to something more comfortable. The first Land Rover station wagon was developed before the standard device even hit the market, but due to sales taxes the vehicle was too expensive, and production was stopped after 641 were produced in 1951.

The Road Rover

Over the next ten years Gordon Bashford developed the rear-wheel-drive ‘Road Rover’, using a P4 floor pan and many configurations, but although it came very close to production, the company was doing sufficiently well out of its current projects that it never took the punt.

By 1964 Rover was taking a serious look at the USA as a market (hence William Martin-Hurst’s uncovering of the redundant alloy Buick V8, which Rover subsequently bought the rights to and famously manufactured for many years after). The Ford Bronco and Jeep Wagoneer also caught its eye.

Bashford was joined by Spen King to develop something that could service the US.

The prototype ‘100-inch station wagon’ (the name taken from the wheelbase) that they had started with had Rover’s six cylinder motor but this was now superseded by the Buick V8.
It was King’s adherence to the formula of very long suspension travel that would make the Range Rover the success it was. It meant that, in conjunction with low rate springs, the wheels would constantly be in contact with the ground, giving excellent traction.

The first full-size mock-up was ready for January 1967. Interestingly, the prototype body, a steel structure with simple aluminium panels, had been designed to house the mechanicals of the prototype, but the management preferred the test mule’s body to the more car-like styling that had been proposed, and so, with a few tweaks, the first prototype also became the styling model.

The early 1968 VELAR (Vee-Eight LAnd Rover) was the final iteration before seven proving vehicles were made, and manufacture started in 1969 with 25 pre-production vehicles finished without rear seats and with minimal trim. (Chassis number two, converted by Carmichael to a six-wheel fire tender, is still in service at Cambridge Airport.)

The first run was followed by a batch of 20, which were ready for the press launch. After the press introduction on June 17, 1970, demand led to immediate waiting lists at the £1998 purchase price. Initial production was slow as teething problems were solved, but increased to 100 per week in 1972, and 250 per week in 1975. In 1972 the British Trans-Americas Expedition Range Rover became the first vehicle to travel from the northern tip of North America to the southern tip of South America, including traversing the famous Darien Gap.

As time went on it became apparent that the Rangie had become a lifestyle statement.

Development — at last

Michael Edwardes, the straight-talking South African saviour of BL, created a more autonomous Land Rover Limited. The Range Rover flourished — finally, a greater proportion of funds from its sales success went towards development rather than providing a crutch for other, ailing BL divisions.

It funded development of a five-door model, based on a coach-built design by Monteverdi. In deference to the apparent market demand, the hose-down interior was replaced with luxury materials.
Whilst funds for development were still pitiful, the ‘always intended’ automatic version would be launched, followed by a luxury Vogue model, in 1981 and 1984 respectively. Within months these variants were outselling the standard car.

The LT77mm five-speed ’box — as used in the SD1, XJ6 and TR7 — was one of BL’s greater achievements. Built by Land Rover, it allowed slightly better gear changing with more relaxed cruising in the Range Rover, which became one of the first winners of the Paris-Dakar Rally during the ’80s.

By now a very complete vehicle, and still without major competition, the 3.9-litre V8, revised dashboard and long wheelbase version (108, not 100-inch (2743mm/2540mm) widened the car’s appeal as it sailed past its 20th birthday. Other refinements included a viscous locking centre differential, the world’s first off-road ABS system, electronic traction control, and an electronically controlled air-adjustable suspension — the latter being another first for Range Rover, and replaced the coil suspension at a time when competing vehicles were finally adopting the long travel coils that Range Rover had pioneered.

The perceived class that the Range Rover achieved was proven when the company released a more modern, larger car called Land Rover Discovery in 1989, despite being more advanced, this car was sold under the old Range Rover, re-establishing the Rangie’s ‘King of the Castle’ status. Remarkably, 1989 Range Rover sales exceeded ’88 sales by 41% due largely to its introduction in the USA, 17 years after production began.

New Range

The P38A Pegasus, the first significant restyle of the Range Rover, arrived in September 1994, but did not replace the old model. The ‘Classic’ Range Rover continued to sell well alongside it.

The P38A was undoubtedly a better car, but only managed seven years in production, being a rather ordinary design compared to the Classic which, despite having very boxy styling, was still strangely aristocratic, and remained so for its 25-year production.

The most notable refinement during the P38A’s production cycle was the adoption of a 4.6-litre HSE version of the classic V8 engine. The last Range Rover Classic was built in February 1996; by then 317,615 had been built.

When BMW took over the ailing Rover companies much of the Solihull 4×4 expertise was vacuumed up for the BMW X5 which, despite becoming a strong seller, was nothing like as able off-road.
By now many other manufacturers were in the market place, most notably Mercedes, which produced the able but expensive and ungainly G-wagon, as well as a later soft-roader M300. Probably only Toyota has come close to claiming the Range Rover’s place with their range of Land Cruisers, being hardy and much more reliable but certainly not carrying the kudos that many Range Rover owners seek.

The Range Rover is the only vehicle to have been exhibited in the Louvre as a work of art. Despite what would appear to be an asset stripping exercise by BMW in 1999, we have the German company to thank for the radical redesign for the MkIII Range Rover — which has been claimed as one of the most expensive design exercises ever — officially launched at the Detroit Motor Show in January 2002.

Despite its great attributes, the original Range Rover’s on-road handling and drivability could best be described as agricultural in terms of the 21st century and it was this that BMW planned to put right. An innovative cross-coupled independent airbag suspension system did the job very well. The Range Rover lost its separate chassis, but gained an efficient new BMW engine and featured an electronically controlled Hill Descent Control (HDC) system which allowed the driver to leave all the clever stuff to the car’s amazing electronics during frightening off-road descents.
Before its introduction, however, BMW decided to sell Land Rover to Ford, the deal concluding in July 2000 for about US$2.7billion.

Ford Sport

Ford’s first attack on the Range Rover concept was in 2005, when a differently-styled ‘Sport’ model was added to the line, using 4.2-litre Jaguar power units, a normally aspirated V8 or a 298kW supercharged version.

The term SUV or Sport Utility Vehicle is a relatively new one, but only a few vehicles truly live up to it. The Range Rover Sport is truly an exceptional and engaging road car, it is very fast, very stable and very wieldy. It’s basically as good as most sports saloons and astonishingly fast, so much so that if you needed the carrying capacity but wanted a sports road car, you would not think twice having driven a Range Rover Sport.

Ride, handling, control and balance are all exceptional due to independent cross-over front and rear suspension. Computer controlled cross-linked air springs over each wheel supply further levels of on-road refinement and composure under all road conditions, helping maintain a level ride height irrespective of load.

You might think that this road ability compromises the Sport’s off road capability — not so. Terrain Response works whether you’re cruising on tarmac, driving over deep ruts, grass, snow, mud or sand. When you turn the dial in the centre console, the engine, transmission, suspension and traction settings are all reconfigured to deliver the best possible driving experience.

I drove both supercharged and unsupercharged versions and found that I preferred the cheaper option, simply because it was more than adequately muscular — and sounded better.

Characters

David Reid bought his 1989 Classic Range Rover in 1995 for $45,000, the new price was $117,000. Our test Range Rover Sport costs $129,990.

Apart from the commanding driving position and off-road ability, the old and new Rangies have nothing in common. David’s old Classic can be coaxed along pretty quickly if you are prepared to allow for alarming roll angles and a precipitous ‘take up’ as you corner, but you or your passengers certainly run out of nerve before the Range Rover does, and it all lacks a little decorum. Everything you do in the old Range Rover has a sound track, you can hear the power steering working, you can hear the drive train taking up, the air con working, everything has its own mechanical song.

You have the feeling you are conducting some kind of mechanical orchestra and you can hear every instrument — except they aren’t playing the same tune, and the noises aren’t always pleasant!

The V8 in this tune is slightly wheezy, though no doubt it could be made to sound spectacular. There is something satisfying and charming about all these little signature tunes letting you know what the car is doing, you feel in touch with a real mechanical machine, yet comfortable and in charge, and once off road there is a feeling of complete invincibility.

With the modern Range Rover Sport you have the same feeling of being on the bridge, or in the cockpit of a jumbo jet, comfortably in charge and invincible. You feel the results of the electronic, mechanical and hydraulic magic going on underneath you, but have no indication of what, how and when.

Both vehicles would make very happy driving companions, for as long as you have a wad of petrol vouchers, but the new diesel V8 Sport could help with that issue.

1989 Range Rover Classic SE – Specifications

Engine
3500cc, petrol, V8, EFI, 16-valve ohv
Max power 121kW at 4000rpm
Max torque 2794Nm at 3200rpm
Transmission Four-speed auto, hi/lo, full-time 4WD, Morse chain, centre diff and viscous-coupling
Suspension    Front  beam-coil  Rear beam-coil
Steering    PAS
Brakes    Disc/disc, transmission hand brake
Tyres    205R16
Dimensions
Width / Height 1813mm / 1792mm
Length / Weight 4478mm / 2070kg
Wheelbase 2540mm (100-inch)
Ground clearance 206mm
Approach 30°-33°
performance
0-100kph 13.5 secs
Max speed 160kph

2006 Range Rover Sport – Specifications

Engine
Jaguar-based 4.2-litre V8, naturally aspirated, dohc @ bank, 32-valve EFI
Max power 225kW @ 5500rpm
Max torque 440Nm @ 4000rpm
Transmission ZF six-speed automatic gearbox
Suspension Electronic cross-linked air suspension with Terrain Response
Steering Speed-proportional variable ratio steering
Brakes Four-wheel ventilated disc, electronic park brake
Tyres 20-inch 275×40
Dimensions
Width / Height 1928mm / 1817mm
Length / Weight 4788mm  / 2675 kg
Wheelbase 2745 mm
Ground clearance 172 to 227mm
Approach 34°
Performance
0-100kph 8.2 sec
Max speed 209kph

Words: Tim Nevinson Photos: Jared Clark

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

The Land Rover Series I marked a huge boost for Rover’s fortunes. Almost two million units later the Defender carries the trademark iconic features of its great-grandfather

The time was 1947. Tommy had shown Jerry a thing or two in a big European rematch, and the masses were bally well fed up with the whole war thing. Despite the mourning it was a time of optimism, innovation, and copious numbers of infants in wide-eyed anticipation at growing up in peacetime as Great Britain was rebuilt.

Maurice Wilks was the chief designer and engineering director at Rover immediately after the war. He owned a Willys Jeep (an American war jeep) that he used on his farm in Newborough, Anglesey. Frustrated that he could buy spares only in large quantities due to the army’s overproduction of parts during the war, he sketched an idea in the sand on the beach at Red Wharf Bay.

Wilks owned land on Anglesey, an island off the northwest coast of Wales, and wanted a vehicle that would serve two purposes: light tractor, and off-roader.

The Land Rover concept

It was christened ‘Land Rover’, and Maurice approached his brother Spencer, then managing director of Rover, with a plan to make his Land Rover concept a utility vehicle for farmers. The project was approved and a prototype was built — a hybrid based on a Jeep chassis and transmission, but with a Rover car engine and gearbox.

Steel was in short supply in post-War Britain, so the brothers opted to clad their new vehicle in an aluminium alloy called Birmabright which was in plentiful supply, lightweight but strong, and had the added benefit of being resistant to corrosion. The driver of the original proof-of-concept sat in the middle of the cab astride the gearbox, like in a tractor.

Rover approved an initial pre-production run of 50 units, but with the steering mounted for conventional right- or left-hand drive. Forty-eight were built, of which around half still survive.

Summer 1948 marked the true birth of the Land Rover, though. Production began in Solihull of the Series I, powered by a 1595cc petrol engine that drove a four-wheel drive transmission featuring low-ratio gearing to increase off-road versatility and capability — a hallmark of every Land Rover since.

It launched at a price of £450, and you could have any colour as long as it was light green (allegedly from a job lot of surplus aircraft cockpit paint), in an open utility vehicle style with a 2032mm (80-inch — the measurement often denoting the Land Rover model variant) wheelbase. As they appealed to the vital agricultural market, power take-offs were fitted to enable the Land Rover to drive farming equipment. Specialist vehicles such as fire engines and mobile welders were developed to meet demand as word of the Land Rover’s versatility spread.

Picking the most descriptive name for the vehicle’s prowess seemed to be paying off, and the iconic oval badge started to be seen all over England. This original inspiration for the logo is said to have come from the mark a designer’s pilchard tin made on his drawing board while he was having lunch.

Rugged

Riding in a Series I Land Rover over rugged territory feels like you’re balancing a space hopper on the back of a galloping camel. Except there’s the added danger of banging various body parts on the large amounts of exposed metal. Soft interior plastics were unheard of. The metal grab handle attached to the unpadded dashboard ended up with my white knuckles wrapped around it while my buttocks tried their best to clench onto the slippery vinyl seat.

So it’s no surprise that as early as 1948 a more comfortable version was created. With a coach-built body by Tickford, the seven-seater station wagon unfortunately attracted a luxury tax in the UK, limiting its success. Many were sold overseas, though, and the basic vehicle was exported to America, generating a crucial flow of US dollars needed to help repay Britain’s war debt. The British Army acquired its first Land Rovers in 1949 in preference to the more complex and expensive Austin Champ, which had been under evaluation by the army since 1947 with mixed results. The army eventually took Land Rovers in all shapes and sizes as their standard four-wheel drive vehicle after it showed its rugged ability, easy serviceability in the field, and the ability to run thousands of kilometres powered by lower grade fuels such as banana oil (according to one Rover advertisement).

The introduction of a selectable four-wheel drive system came in 1950. Low-range gears automatically engaged four-wheel drive, while it could be selected in high-range when required. Two years later marked the arrival of a more powerful 2.0-litre engine.

Only 1758 vehicles were produced in 1948, but 1949 saw an explosion in sales and 12,395 vehicles found new homes, with 16,795 in 1950. By 1958 Land Rover’s 10th anniversary saw over 25,000 units built, and the unveiling of the Series II.

The ‘Deafener’

Which brings us to our herd of Land Rovers assembled here. A 1953 Series I, a 1980 109 Series III, a 2002 hybrid Defender/ Range Rover, and a brand new Defender 110.

The basic design elements of a Land Rover have not changed in 60 years: it boasts a shape only exceeded in boxiness by a shipping container, plus round headlights, and an upright windscreen.

Acquiring the name ‘Defender’ in 1990, the 110 sports a 2.4-litre common-rail diesel engine pumping out 90kW and 360Nm. Fully kitted out for a life of muddy wellies, hunting trophies, dogs and (worst of all) children, the Defender’s interior is a mix of easy-to-clean rubber flooring, half leather and half fabric seats, and large chunky switches. It all looks very rugged, but if you peer closer you’ll find creature comforts such as heated seats, an MP3-compatible stereo with auxiliary input, air conditioning, and ABS with traction control.

The Defender features a tow ball rated to pull 3500kg, next to a folding rear step. Side runners are welcome when getting in such a tall vehicle, and around the front there’s the classic Brunel grille.

This all rests on an immensely strong ladder chassis that carries the lightweight aluminium body. This basic design featured on the very first model where cost constraints and the short supply of steel ruled out the use of pressed chassis members. Rover engineers fabricated the chassis by welding together strips of steel ‘cast-offs’ into box-shaped members, and then combined them into the ladder frame.

The rivets are still visible on the body, and the panel gaps are significant; it all points to no-nonsense practicality and functional simplicity.

Farmyard frolics

Long wheelbase Land Rovers have a turning circle roughly equivalent to that of a herd of wildebeest, but this didn’t seem to matter when I took the Defender to a farm west of Auckland with the aforementioned historic versions and their passionate owners. The 235/85R16 road tyres weren’t the best choice for a late autumn jaunt around the clay tracks, but dropping the pressure to 18psi saw us through. Approach and departure angles are excellent, with 49 and 35 degrees respectively, and the Defender will climb a 45-degree slope.

Modern off-road vehicles are expected to be capable and competent, but Brian’s Series I amazes you that a vehicle this old can easily keep up with much more expensive modern machinery, meticulously making its way across seemingly unconquerable obstacles.

Riding in Ken’s immensely powerful hybrid, though, shows you the next level. The engine is so laden with torque that it almost ‘flows’ up the hills on little more than idle revs.

Land Rovers opened up remote areas of the planet to scientists, environmentalists, thrill-seekers and those interested in accessing some of the world’s most inhospitable regions.

In 1972 a British Army team, led by Major John Blashford-Snell, drove two cars from the north of Alaska to the southernmost tip of Argentina. The infamous Darien Gap — a dense forest and swamp that prevents road access between central and South America — proved no match for the Land Rovers, which fared better than the crew on the gruelling six-month journey — 30 of the latter had to be evacuated due to insect and snake bites! And who can forget the Camel Trophies in the ’80s and ’90s, which tested vehicle and human endurance from the Amazon to Africa.

In a marketplace that embraces inbuilt obsolescence Land Rover is a refreshing rebel, building them ‘like they used to.’ While this means that a Defender or any Series I to III is not going to drive like a modern car, it does mean that by the time Land Rover’s 120th anniversary comes around in 2048 a Land Rover you buy today has a good chance of still being in working order. Some sources have said that as many as 75 per cent of the almost two million Land Rovers ever built are still in service — perhaps why Land Rover drivers call other SUVs ‘disposables.’

Passion for Land Rovers

As a child Brian loved Land Rovers. In 1976 he helped put a Rover V8 into a friend’s 80-inch, and that really gave him the bug. He bought his first one in 1977, and has owned his well-used 1953 Series I for the last four years.

A true Land Rover enthusiast, he also has three other 80-inch Series I models, a 1958 short wheelbase Series II, a 1968 long wheelbase flat deck, two 1970s Range Rovers and a lot of parts. The Series I is his favourite, though.
It’s fitted with an IOE engine (overhead inlet valves and side exhaust valves), and Brian estimated his Landie makes just over 37kW (50hp) and 136Nm of torque. The car is original except for some temporary side and taillights, and an upgraded fuel pump. It has the optional door tops (windows with canvas/metal door seals). He suspects his Series I started life in the New Zealand Army, as there is a unit insignia plate on the front and a military trailer connection plug on the back.

Brian’s mission is to use the Land Rover as much as possible and get the most fun out of it. It certainly is demonstrating some battle scars after Brian drove it all the way to Wanaka from Auckland for the 60th anniversary celebrations. Ultimately he said he will restore it, but not to concours level — original standard will see him happy in his retirement.

Mud Pluggers

John’s 1979 Series III long wheelbase model and Ken’s hybrid Defender/ Range Rover are ardent mud-pluggers.

John’s is a 109-inch with a Stage I V8, and is the last of the leaf sprung models. It may have been assembled in Australia because the snorkel on the front guard is the air filter normally found at the back of the engine. It’s called a Stage I because it was the first stage of a relaunch to a coil-sprung 90- and 110-inch model.

Ken’s Defender started life as a damaged Range Rover and has since acquired a Jaguar gearbox, a Defender body and a glorious-sounding 224kW (300hp) 3.9-litre V8. The motor has been ported and polished, all combustion chambers matched, and it features an uprated cam and anti-pump lifters. Ken has a winch for those ultra-boggy moments (and to rescue others) that’s capable of pulling over 3800kg.

All three guys belong to the Land Rover Owners’ Club (Auckland), which is on standby for civil defence duty in times of emergency and participates in rescue and salvage operations, plus helping DOC repair bush tracks.

Words: Darren Cottingham Photos: Dan Wakelin

What could be better than a Rover P5B? Two of them would be, especially one of each variant

John de la Haye took delivery of his Rover 3.5-litre saloon in October 1970. He had a choice of colour and couldn’t decide, so his son-in-law, Bob Wolfe, said he was having the Arden Green one and the decision was made. The list price was $6665 at a time when a Jaguar XJ6 was about $8500, and a Ford Zodiac about $4300. A few months later Mr de la Haye became too ill to drive, and his wife took over the driving duties. With a name like Lola de la Haye, and being related to the Delahaye car makers, there was a good chance she would be a car enthusiast, and she is one to this day.

Mrs de la Haye drove the Rover for years, and was often approached by enthusiasts wanting to buy the car. They would leave their contact details and she dutifully kept them all, ending up with over 30 names. So if you’re still waiting for that lovely old lady with the green Rover to call, forget it!

In time the Rover was passed on to her grandson, Michael Wolfe. Mrs de la Haye still drives her Rover 2000 every week at the young age of 98 years. Although Michael is the P5B’s acknowledged owner in waiting, at this stage it is still considered to be owned by the Wolfe family. He commented that the family barely sells a car. When they want a new car they buy it and keep the ones they already have. That’s why his mother has a 27,000km Morris 1100 and Michael is now the custodian of the Ford Zodiac that his parents bought new, which has travelled 108,000km.

Coromandel Coupe

Until a few years ago, the family owned a holiday home on the Thames coast. On a day drive to Coromandel, Bob saw a Rover P5B coupe parked on the street. He went to talk to the owner, a Mr Bishop, and a five-minute chat took an hour. Almost unbelievably, seven years later Mr Bishop rang to ask whether the Wolfes would like to buy his car. It was newly registered and warranted and had new tyres, and he wondered, would $4000 be too much? He had received a better offer but he wanted to be sure the car was going to a good home. They left almost immediately for Coromandel, and Michael bought the car on the spot.

The coupe was perfect mechanically, despite having done over 320,000km, but the body needed quite a bit of work. It was stripped, and rust and dents were removed prior to a full repaint in Michael’s basement garage. Michael was adamant the colour scheme had to be changed from battleship grey with a green roof, and he chose Arden Green for the body and Roman Bronze for the roof. Both are Rover colours, but the coupe’s green paintwork is slightly lighter than that of the saloon.

The bumpers and grille were re-chromed, and new rubber seals and light lenses were fitted. The interior was also refurbished, except for the seating, which is still serviceable. Michael says the seats need to be re-upholstered to bring the car right up to scratch, but it will be on the ‘to do’ list for some time yet. The refurbishment was completed in just three months because Michael’s younger brother, Stephen, wanted the Rovers for his wedding cars.

Because the coupe was fitted with whitewall tyres, the saloon looked a little under-dressed. Michael’s mother promptly ordered another set, so the two cars were matching. After the coupe was finished, Michael sent photos of it to Mr Bishop, who heartily approved of the transformation.

Behind the Wheel

Michael and I went for a cruise in the two Rovers, and it was a real pleasure to get behind the wheel of a P5B Saloon for the first time since 1974. The V8 started instantly and idled smoothly with a very pleasant, typical V8 rumble that was inaudible by the time the speed reached 50kph. The car got to 100kph surprisingly quickly, with no apparent effort.

It felt beautifully smooth and solid on the road, as you would expect of a car that’s covered a gentle 68,000km in its life. The power steering was light, but it was possible to feel what was going on where the rubber met the road. A Borg Warner automatic was the only transmission available for the P5B, unlike the earlier P5 which could be ordered with a four-speed manual with or without overdrive, or an automatic. The auto’s changes were undetectable.
I was too busy keeping Michael in sight to see the reactions of other road users, but I’m pretty sure the two green beauties attracted plenty of attention as they slipped quietly through the Saturday morning traffic.

There is no doubt the lovely alloy V8 engine is the dominant feature of the Rover. The engine was originally designed by General Motors and produced by Buick. It was fitted to several hundred thousand compact Buicks and Oldsmobiles between 1961 and 1963, but it always leaked water and oil. Buick produced it with a cast-iron block to overcome these problems, and also made a V6 version that had a long and distinguished career.

A Stronger V8

General Motors sold the tooling for the alloy V8 version to Rover, which re-engineered it to eliminate the leaks, making it stronger and slightly heavier in the process. As well as the P5B and P6B Rovers, the engine also saw service in various capacities up to five litres in Land Rovers, Morgans, MGs, Triumphs, TVRs, the Leyland P76 and some fairly obscure low-volume brands. It was finally phased out in 2006.

Richard Hammond featured the P5B on the Top Gear television show in 2003, and was very complimentary about the “¦gentlemen’s club on wheels¦” No matter how hackneyed the cliche might be, he thought it was entirely appropriate, given that the car has what Michael refers to as a trilogy of wood, leather and deep pile carpet.

Hammond said the Rover 3.0litre P5 had a “flaccid” six cylinder engine that would get the car from zero to 100kph in 17 seconds and would take it to 162kph, but “¦not without a fight.” In contrast, the P5B will sprint to 100kph in 11 seconds and carry on to a top speed of 176kph, easily and in total dignity.

Her Majesty’s Rover

The P5B that Hammond drove was Queen Elizabeth’s car, kept for the times she wanted to drive and be incognito. Her car was identical in colour, inside and out, to Michael’s. There’s a delightful story that may be true, of an English shopkeeper being dumbstruck when a green Rover pulled up outside and Her Majesty came in to buy a pie. The P5B was the car for lawyers, bank managers and others of elevated status in Britain, at least until the Jaguar XJ6 came along. Although the Jaguar had a more sporting image, it didn’t quite have that air of understated dignity, and there was no car that could fully take the P5B’s place when it went out of production. Harold Wilson and Margaret Thatcher also drove, or were driven in, P5Bs, so these cars moved in high circles. Mrs Thatcher clung onto her example for years, and it was already seven years old when she came to power.

In most respects, the saloon and coupe are identical, and yet they look very different. In womanly terms the saloon is the full-bodied dowager, while the coupe is her slightly more svelte sister. The saloon is a size 14 top and bottom; the coupe has a size 10 top and is size 14 below the waist. The coupe has the more instant allure, but the saloon would be no less satisfying. The coupe is 70mm lower than the saloon, but the difference doesn’t stop there. The front and rear screens have more rake and the coupe’s side windows have narrow stainless steel frames. Richard Hammond said the coupe had a slightly more caddish look, but I’m not sure whether that’s quite the right description.  I am sure, though, that the coupe has the proportions a hot-rodder would give the saloon.

Inside, the only noticeable difference is that the saloon has a full bench rear seat, where the coupe’s seat is sculpted to be more of a two and occasional three-seater. Both have what Michael thinks is African mahogany woodwork, and some nice detail touches. The saloon has good old-fashioned fabric grab handles hanging from the C-pillars and the coupe has a pull-out drinks tray hidden behind the rear seat’s centre armrest. Both have a pull-out tray under the dash that doubles as a home for the tool kit. The one jarring note in the P5B’s design, to Michael’s eyes, is the instrument panel. He feels that Rover didn’t know how to make a nice dashboard. It’s as though it designed the dashboard and then realised it had to provide instruments, so it mounted them on a box that is not even slightly integrated into the overall design. This applies to all models from the P5 on.

The P5B (fifth post war model, Buick engine) in either form was a classic from the day it was introduced in 1967, and it is still a head-turning car that is satisfying and practical to drive on a daily basis. It will always be sought after by those who appreciate the best of British attributes, which these cars have in abundance. The last one came off the production line in 1973, after 11,501 saloons and 9099 coupes had been built.

Fourth Generation

Michael has an eight-year-old son, Nikolai, and he is a very fortunate young lad. One day he will inherit two immaculate, almost identical, Rovers, a MkIV Zodiac and a MkI Ford Capri. Whether he will be able to fuel or drive them is another matter, but one thing is certain — barring major natural disasters or World War III, the cars will be owned by the Wolfe family, to be handed down to the fourth and successive generations.

Words & Photos: Gordon Campbell

Penn has his view on the importance of originality reinforced by an 80-year-old car with a totally traceable three-owner history

Warwick Orr has been a friend for quite a few years. We share several common interests, ranging from a taste for whiskey (in moderation, of course) to old cars and the quiet enjoyment of living in this pleasant country.

For years he’s been looking after a Douglas motorcycle — with a horizontally-opposed engine — which I’ve been trying to prise off him, and a lovely old 1925 Rover 9 Tourer; an amazingly original one. I never expected to see this Rover back on the road, but now that it is I’m in hopes that the consequential trials and tribulations of that achievement have cured Warwick of restorations; enough to pass the bike on to me.

Probably not though, he’s a right tight one. In 1983 he bought this Rover off well-known vintage buff, John Stewart, who had bought it in 1970, rescuing it from a prison cell of a garage in Remuera, where its then owner had locked it away in 1932. A significant year in world history, my parents took delivery of a new model McKay in 1932, and the advent of the Great Depression in that same year considerably affected their lives, and mine as a result.

Incarceration

This little Rover 9’s incarceration was reputedly directly as a result of that same depression. The owner was deeply affected by it all, and said that such luxuries as seven-year old Rover 9s could no longer be justified amidst such an economic catastrophe — not even in Remuera. So, the little car — in excellent order — was driven into the garage and a timber beam nailed across the door, 28,000 recorded miles (45,060km) showing on the clock. It’s possible of course that the owner may not have been affected so much by the depression, as expressing his own state of mind at that time.

That state of mind seemed to stay with him long after times had improved. The car stayed locked up throughout the ’30s, then the ’40s when Herr Hitler sponsored the event that put everybody back to work again. It stayed there throughout the busy ’50s and the wild ’60s and outlasted the owner, who had sent away all prospective purchasers with the proverbial earful of fleas — so it slowly gained a reputation and entered the realm of mythology.

Resurrection

The owner was eventually returned to manufacturer, leaving a widow who was made of more realistic materials. She allowed John Stewart to collect the car in 1970, and he took it home where the Rover joined his fleet of choice vintage cars. The motor was easily fired up thanks to a new magneto and armature — and with a new set of tyres the car was still driveable 40 years on. Interestingly, the original battery was given an overnight charge and was found to be perfectly functional.

The Rover 9 was a classic case of a car that would be a real shame to restore, such was the glorious perfection of its vintage patina. So, John kept it pretty much as it was until he bought a 1926 Bentley 3.0-litre and needed the space. Enter the Rover’s third owner, my friend Warwick Orr, who bought it in 1983. He drove it home over the Harbour Bridge where the hood blew out, much to Warwick’s chagrin.

Warwick’s intentions, like the car’s registration, had to go on hold as he entered one of those phases in life where the waves are high and life is so real that you haven’t the time required for living it as a gentleman should. He had lived and worked in England and in Australia, had a divorce — maybe a couple, he can’t recall — and for many years enjoyed the rearing of a well-loved daughter, Nicky.

Which is where life caught up again with the little Rover, because Nicky and her partner (who designed my Wendy House) decided to tie the knot and, getting all-over romantic, expressed a wish to be taken to the wedding in the Rover 9. Warwick, being the devoted father that he is, then had to accelerate his restoration of a couple of decades, with about two months to finish it! Fortunately he’s a mechanic by trade, although it’s so long since he practiced his trade that it’s very fortunate this car is early-primitive. How many mechanics today could deal with the niceties of magneto ignition?

Bernie Beckett, well-known trimmer of vintage and hot rod cars, did a superb job of the leather seats which look ‘factory’ — he had the originals to model from, of course, and similarly the top. Actually, years ago Bernie trimmed one of my Sunbeams before he retreated to the wilds of Albany (this was before the masses moved in) and I lost touch. He’s an excellent trimmer — if a little grumpy. Paintwork is by Mel of North Shore Car Painters, proving it’s still possible to get a good coat of paint for a reasonable price. Mind you, if you’re working for Orr (or McKay) you have to be in starvation mode.

On the road

Although the Rover is complete, she’s a long way from being ‘sorted’ and the ferocious original clutch, combined with the three dogtooth pinions, makes for a hairy trip through the cogs. Once cruising, though, it was very pleasant if a little wandery. Quite torquey too, for such a small motor.

We didn’t think a trip to Wellington offered much enticement at this stage, but that might simply reflect my aging process. Warwick’s a persistent bloke and I’m sure the car’s little quirks will be ironed out. Every freshly rebuilt car has a period of ‘sorting’ to be gone through before it will provide a relaxing drive, and this’ll be no different. It’s great to see this old girl back on the road, having outlasted all those lonely years locked away in the dark — for me, it’s what old cars are all about.

Rover 9 Statistics

Engine: Water-cooled four-cylinder, in-line, cast-iron block and head, Duralium rods, cast-iron pistons originally — now alloy — magneto ignition
Capacity: 1075cc
Valves: ohv
Transmission: Three-speed crash ’box, worm drive differential
Suspension: Quarter elliptic cantilever springs all round, no shock absorbers

The Rover Marque

The Rover marque has always been an up-market brand in the UK, being the special preserve of the middle classes — doctors, lawyers and similar — those most frequently concerned with respectability through achievement. The upper classes — car dealers, builders, Targa Promoters and small-time politicians — went a stage further to the ostentatious; Bentleys, Harley Davidsons, Rolls-Royces, Lagondas and so on. So Rover has always been the epitome of sound conservatism.
In 1925 Rover had made a fairly advanced technical move, paradoxically typical of overtly conservative Rover. It used an overhead valve configuration, albeit still typically British in that it was hardly an example of real power. John Stewart told me the Australians call this car the Rover 8-1/2 because there are no front brakes. Personally I can’t imagine this dwarf motoring through the vastness of Australia. This model was preceded by the Rover 8 — with a twin cylinder air-cooled motor! I’ve had two Rover P6Bs and loved them — still do — for my money they were the best cars Rover ever made, and damned near the real ‘best of British’.

The Provenance

There are some interesting stories about this car’s first owner and his obsessional behaviour. He was from those golden days when men ran everything, and as a consequence the world was a much more settled place. It appears that he had a wife who was relieved of all responsibility for decisions by his edicts — she was allowed to attend films once a month, and the shops once a week. The only visitor allowed was the family doctor.
Fitness was taken care of; she got to mow the lawns with a push-mower. Here at Castle McKay, as I type this, I’m reassured to hear my woman mowing her acre of lawn with our walk-behind Victor (spoilt, it appears). Mowing does keep a woman in good condition.
John Stewart met the first owner’s wife when he collected the car in 1983, and was very taken with her as a bright, breezy and interesting person. Her husband hadn’t believed in fripperies, and John well remembers their very baronial home in Remuera as being uncarpeted and without any sort of modern technology. To the chagrin, no doubt, of Hill & Stewart there was a total lack of electrical appliances. Even after WWII, when refrigerators were commonplace, they still used an old-fashioned food safe with each of its four legs sitting in a jar of water to keep the ants out.
Maybe this explains, partly, the state of mind that led him to locking up this Rover for 38 years — perhaps it ignored some edict of his?
There were many casualties of the Great Depression. My own father never forgot the terrible lessons learned, and passed them on to me. They have influenced my own progress through life — my first wife will bear witness to that, although she was never denied any labour-saving devices.
Maybe this first owner became unbalanced by this searing experience. If so, he left us a little time capsule in this virtually original 80-year-old car.

1961 Rover 100

Unfortunately, the proud owner of this classic had a stroke on the voyage home and it was then bought by Auckland Rover agents McMillan Motors. That’s where Laurence L Rhodes worked and he swapped his existing Rover for the new model, paying the difference in cash. Laurence was now the owner of a nearly new example of fine British motor engineering — a Rover 100 P4. In 1960, the P4 range concentrated on two models: the 100 with a short-stroke version of the new P5 seven-bearing engine, and the 80, a four-cylinder car using the 2286cc pushrod engine from Land Rover.

The 100 is seen by enthusiasts as the pinnacle of P4 development and good examples fetch £3000-£5000 even now in the UK. Laurie used the car in Auckland for a number of years then eventually ‘retired’ to Thames. The family doesn’t seem all that good at retiring, going by his son’s workload and indeed, Laurie was soon working for General Motors where he acquired a powerful six-cylinder Holden Torana.

It took two-and-a-half days to strip the body and another three weeks (“And 27 divorces!”)

The Rover was kept garaged and only taken out for trips to the bowling club, so over the years it gradually deteriorated with the little attention it received usually being in the form of mates’ less-than-professional efforts. Some of these efforts created problems for the future — the leather upholstery received a coat of ‘protective’ lacquer, for example, which predictably went all hard and stiff. Among other injustices, some fastenings were replaced with twisted wire and the overdrive handle was broken off.

Finally, Laurie became ill and decided to prepare the car for selling to help his wife get by. The car was sent to Auckland in 1989 for son Graham to prepare. Graham found the motor so covered in grease as to be barely recognisable. He had an interest in cars although he didn’t work in the industry, and replaced hoses and belts and cleaned up the motor, then got the car independently valued at $3200. Graham had become quite fond of the old English motor, so offered that sum to his dad — Laurie agreed. But he died shortly after and Graham received a note saying the car had been gifted to him in recognition of the work he’d put into it.

Let the work begin

Graham set about seriously sorting the car, stripping all the woodwork right back and hand-varnishing it in a sealed room. He did a beautiful job, too, building up the lustre using multiple coats. Then it was reassembled, ‘biscuited’ with fillets of wood and re-glued virtually seamlessly. Graham carried on. He did none of the repainting or upholstery, but looked after literally everything else, replacing the rubbers and doing the myriad other jobs: It took two-and-a-half days to strip the body and another three weeks (“And 27 divorces!” Graham’s wife Frances chimes in) to reassemble it. Every single screw and rivet was replaced with new.

Luckily, the motor proved to be up-to-spec under all that grime and didn’t even need taking out. The electrical overdrive was more of a problem, but once fixed has proved a boon on the open road where the Rover copes with modern speeds and driving conditions with no complaints whatsoever. After seven years of methodical work, the car was finished and Graham had it revalued at $10,000 in 1997.

Since then, the Rover has been a fun vehicle, having driven on several North Island rallies and events. Graham loves driving on long trips and speaks fondly of the camaraderie of club events and fund-raising rallies he’s been on. As a testament to Graham’s careful work, the 100 has also garnered several awards: Best Rover at the 1997 Hastings show, and People’s Choice Best Car, plus the Auckland-Waikato Rover Club’s Challenge Shield Pride of Ownership (twice).

On the road, the big car feels much tighter than you’d expect with all the running gear and steering sorted thoroughly. The Rover is well balanced and rides firmly without wandering. The overdrive works after about 37mph and if you hold your foot down on the accelerator, it kicks out to give you a spurt of overtaking power. The speedo goes up to 100mph and Graham thinks it would reach that — it certainly does feel surprisingly smooth and powerful, despite the weight of two tons. We tooled around Remuera and Glendowie in it, drawing admiring glances wherever we went — it certainly has presence on the road.

Rover today

Strangely, the area we drove through was well endowed with more modern Rovers. I’m not sure how long, however, the modern-day MG Rover company can keep going after reports of a sharp fall in sales for the second month running, according to British industry figures. In September, 6654 new Rovers were sold, 35 per cent less than for the same month last year, while 4914 MGs were sold, a fall of 33 per cent.

UK car sales dropped slightly overall anyway, but MG Rover seems to be getting the worst of it, although their UK market share remains at about three per cent. In 1999 — the last year under BMW ownership — 110,000 cars were sold (perceived at the time as a disastrous performance). Last year that figure dipped to just under 96,000. (The top selling car in Britain is currently the Vauxhall Corsa, which has just displaced the Ford Focus in the number one spot.)

On top of that, worker discontent at an MG Rover senior executives’ pension fund scheme worth millions of pounds hit the news in the UK recently. The now tightly-knit MG-Rover company is heading for a product led revival with big V8s and new styling. Anyway, back here in Auckland, we parked the old P4 Rover 100 for photos and while Graham said “It’s got the turning circle of an aircraft carrier!” it’s light work getting the car about.

It’s a well designed, gentrified saloon with suicide rear doors, cleverly designed quarter-lights that socket into a groove on the front side windows and with thick tinted plastic sun visors held in chromed clips. Little touches of chrome enliven the Royal Blue paint; a colour arrived at when Graham decided he wanted the original colour, but with a little more ‘life’ in it. This was arrived at by accident: a proportion of black to blue paint was arrived at after discussion with the painter and he duly mixed the paint, but then rushed off on important business. One of his workers took on the task, but didn’t realise the paint had already been mixed, so added the black again.
Amazingly, the colour came out exactly as Graham envisaged — he was rapt!

The boot is roomy and lots of the original accessories have either been refurbished or replaced, including the factory toolkit complete with Rover-stamped tools (the kit slides out of a slot under the dashboard, complete with its own wooden dash-matching strip). In fact, the only thing that’s missing is the factory tyre pump that fits into clips in the boot, but Graham hasn’t given up looking for that either.

Substantial

Like other P4 Rovers, the 100 has a substantial four-door saloon body mounted on a separate chassis. With an interior trimmed in wood and leather, it’s an echo of a more refined time, especially compared to most of its British counterparts of the era, which were getting increasingly utilitarian.

The chromed ‘Shepherds Crook’ hand brake and the distinctive front grille complete with its famous Viking Ship Rover badge add to the dignity the car carries.
However, Graham now wants a car that’s easier to drive and requires less nurturing — he’s a busy man, looking after dozens of tenanted and commercial buildings, even though he could technically retire. Graham is looking for someone to take the car on “So someone can get the enjoyment and privilege of owning a classic vehicle, as I have.”

This beautiful car has only 72,512 genuine miles on the clock — if you’d like to contact Graham with an interest in purchasing this vehicle, email grahamrhodes@clear.net.nz, or phone/fax 09 521 1903.

Specifications: 1961 Rover 100

Engine: six-cylinder, seven main bearings
Capacity: 2625cc
Bore/stroke: 77.8 x 92.075mm
Power: 77kW (104bhp) @ 4750rpm
Carburettor: SU single-draft
Gears: Four-speed (no synchro between 1st and 2nd) with Laycock-deNormanville overdrive
Suspension: Front: independent wishbones and coils; Rear: semi-elliptic
Steering: re-circulating ball worm-and-nut with variable ratio
Brakes: Girling hydraulic with servo assistance
Clutch: 9-inch single dry plate

DIMENSIONS

Length: 4.54m(14ft 10 1/2ins)
Width: 1.66m (5ft 5 1/2ins)
Wheelbase: 2.81m (9ft 3ins)
Track F/R: 1.33m/1.308m (52.5/51.5 inches)
Unladen weight: 1378kgs (3039lbs)
Fuel capacity: 52 litres (11.5 imperial gallons)

PERFORMANCE

Top speed: 148kph (92mph, factory)
0-50mph: 12.1 secs
Economy: 7.3 litres/100km (factory stated 20.6mpg)
Produced: 1960-1962 (replaced by the110 model)
Production: 16,521 (total P4 production, all variants 1950-1964: 130,342)

Words & Photos MARK WEBSTER OWNER GRAHAM RHODES