RAF Coningsbry

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Saturday 15th June saw a small group of six cars (two Alpines and four Tigers) head across the Fens and on into Lincolnshire. Our destination was RAF Coningsby, just north of Boston and over 115 miles away from home. Our visit had been organised by Tomas Carr on behalf of RGEA (Rootes Group East Anglia) which is our local group that gathers once a month to celebrate all things Rootes. I had also arranged to meet another long term Alpine owner who was joining us at the base, for reasons I will explain later.

After a very wet and windy June week it was a relief to see clear skies and even a bit of sunshine on Saturday morning for the long run. I’d checked the fluids and tyres and loaded up a few spares the night before and I’d decided to go the scenic route and avoid the A14 as much as I could, so at 8:30 am, top down, snugly wrapped up, we set off and headed for Bury St Edmunds.

The run up was great, diving into the countryside after Bury the roads open up and provide sweeping bends and long straights – definitely suited to classic motoring in an open top Alpine. Passing through Thetford Forrest the sun shone through the trees and the early morning traffic was light so we made good progress. My car was also enjoying the trip having been stuck in the garage for most of the month and definitely felt ‘on song’. We swung west as we passed Kings Lynn and the Wash, soon crossing over the River Nene at Sutton Bridge deep in the Fens. After quick stop for petrol and another hour on the road we were skirting the base getting glimpses of a Spitfire and looking for the entrance.

Coningsby is a fully operational airbase active in the role of national defence. It is home to two frontline, combat-ready squadrons of Typhoons and specialises in Quick Reaction Alert (QRA) – meaning that it ‘scrambles’ aircraft when a threat to UK airspace is detected. It is also home to BBMF (Battle of Britain Memorial Flight) which consists of six Spitfires, two Hurricanes, a Douglas C-47 Dakota, a Lancaster (one of only two aircraft remaining in airworthy condition) and two de Havilland Canada Chipmunks. The base maintains these irreplaceable aircraft in airworthy condition and is constantly displaying them, so most of us will have seen them flying over events around the country.

We were met at the gate by security and when all of the cars had arrived, our official passes were issued and we drove in convoy onto the base. We were honoured to be shown round by the base Commander, Group Captain Mark Flewin, supported by some of his team. We quickly assembled outside one of the Typhoon maintenance hangar and were escorted inside the main building. The tour started with a short presentation by the Group Captain about the base, its history and its day to day activities – which were quite a revelation.

As he concluded the noise of the Lancaster firing up caught our attention, so we quickly went outside to see it. The four engines of the Avro Lancaster were fired up in succession and warmed as the crew settled themselves in. Standing a couple of hundred yards away the noise was powerful, rising slightly as the plane moved off onto the runway for take-off. A couple of minutes later it roared directly overhead, the noise considerably greater, then did a circuit of the airfield before heading off.

As the Lancaster was leaving a Spitfire had been rolled out of the hanger and was now also starting up. A few minutes later as it taxied for take-off, we were ushered forward much closer to the runway. The Group Captain had arranged for the Spitfire to do a short private display for us before it headed off. Over the next few minutes we were treated to several fly-pasts as it banked dramatically and swept around the airfield showing off the maneuverability of the aircraft.

Next we were taken into the hanger where the Typhoons were maintained. One plane was sitting with its canopy open and the electronic systems were engaged as we climbed up to be given a quick lesson in how it flew and the armaments it carried. In fact the aircraft is so complex that it is not ‘flown’ in the analogue sense, with computers constantly tuning the flight for stability and automatically defending plane with chaff etc. should it be attacked – making it the world’s leading in combat fighter.

Modern Typhoons – no pictures please

Here was a photo-opportunity not to be missed. Using the Typhoon emerging from the hanger as the backdrop we assembled the cars in a ‘V’ formation in front of the plane. I’m not sure we’d qualify for the aerobatics team but we made a good job of creating a symmetrical pattern with the patriotically Red, White and Blue cars.

Er… Red, white and blue

After a short bus tour of the areas of the base we were allowed to see we arrived at the Aviation Heritage Centre. Containing the historical archive of base operations from the first WWII missions to the present day it tells the story of the base operations and service personnel. It traces the evolution of the aircraft operating from the base – from the Lancaster (including the famous 617 Squadron known as the Dambusters) to the Vulcan bombers and Phantom jets, the Tornado and the modern day Typhoon.

We then returned to the huge BBMF hanger where the historic aircraft are stored and maintained. It was a garage that would have made any enthusiast dreams come true. We were given a talk on both the Spitfires and Hurricanes lined up along the sides of the hanger and walked around the planes in for routine maintenance and repair. I spotted a Spitfire I had recently seen in Normandy as part of the WWII commemorations, as well as the commander’s Hurricane having an oil leak diagnosed.

It was hard to leave but we were running out of time, so after a quick BBQ we were just in time to see the Lancaster buzz the airfield and land on its return. We thanked our hosts, said our farewells and were escorted off the airbase in convey again.

As the others headed for home we joined John Hancock at the nearby Petwood Hotel. John is a long term Alpine owner having had his Series IV since 1969 and lives locally. He was able to give us a tour of the building which had an aviation connection as it was where the Dam Busters officers mess was based and all around there was memorabilia from the squadron. The reason John and I were meeting was also WWII and RAF connected.

Many months earlier John had spotted my name (Brazill) next to photo of my Series I in the Horn and got in touch to ask if I was related to William Brazill ? William (or Scottie as I knew him) was my grandfather and was a Navigator in Wellingtons with 150 Squadren. Shot down over Belgium on a night mission in September 1942,

Scottie evaded capture and while recovering from his injuries was hidden on a farm near Maredret by a Belgium family. After getting better, Scottie was transported by Réseau Comète (the Comet escape line) through occupied Belgium and France eventually being guided across the mountains by foot and into Spain. He made it to Gibraltar and finally returned back to the UK in January 1943. Scottie went on to be Chair of the RAF Escaping Society and from time to time returned to Belgium to meet with members of Comet and the family that sheltered him.

John and I next to a BBMF Spitfire that I had seen in France the week before

This is where the connection was – as it turned out that John not only knew the family that sheltered my grandfather but had visited them. John met his partner (Andree) while working in Belgium several years ago. It turned out that Andree’s niece had married Michel Housiaux who was a little boy when his grandparents hid Scottie during the war. Michel still lives on the farm in Maradret which John and Andree visit from time to time.

By that time however it was late and we needed to start back – so we said goodbye to John and headed to the car. As we started to take the tonneau off the heavens opened and we drove the car under a large oak tree and hid under the cover ourselves. After a torrential downpour and thunder claps overhead the rain eased enough for us to brave putting the full hood up and set off home.

Somehow the worst of the weather conspired to follow us back and for the next hour flashes lit up the sky as the storm that hit Lincolnshire that evening tried its best to flood the roads and float us into the ditch. However I’m glad to report that despite running a little rough for a time, the Alpine kept going and got us home.

Over the next few days I dried out the carpets, amazed how well the roof had kept the weather off us. A final thanks to Tom for organising the day and to Commander, Group Captain Mark Flewin for his hospitality and the time he spent with us. We all enjoyed ourselves immensely and learned a lot about the bases modern operations as well as being lucky to get up close to some fantastic historical aircraft.

Round Britain Coastal Drive – 2018

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Stage 13 – Lucky for some ?

I would be the first to admit that it was with some trepidation that I booked myself in for a leg of this year’s Round Britain Coastal Drive (RBCD) – it was number 13 after all. This number I thought, after my breakdown and subsequent failure to complete the leg two years ago, was a little ominous. However hoping that lightening did not strike twice I spent the days beforehand cleaning and polishing the car, collecting the spares and checking the fluids and tyres ready for the off.

As you can see from the pictures, my car is a 1964 Series 1 Carmen red 3.8 FHC. I have had it for over 16 years and it’s been well used, taking me around the UK and to Europe on several occasions. It’s had a full engine re-build in that time as well as the usual replacement parts – brake master cylinders, batteries, suspension, etc. and at the last count I am on my 5th replacement dynamo. It was the dynamo that let me down on the 2016 RBCD run so I now run with a Dynator (an alternator disguised as a dynamo) to boost the charge and hopefully provide more reliability.

We had decided to stay the previous night at the set off point for our leg (Northrepps Cottage Country Hotel just outside Cromer in Norfolk) and had I booked the room and evening meal several months beforehand. I knew where the hotel was from the previous run and the 80 mile journey up from where we live in South Suffolk went quickly, with the car running well and sun shining brightly – even the roads around Norwich seemed to be a bit better than last time too. The sun was still shining when we arrived so we took a detour to explore Cromer and the Peer and then topped up with fuel before heading to the hotel.


I was feeling confident when we arrived and even though the car park was empty, I parked opposite the hotel entrance and in the same spot as we had done in 2016 – just to tempt fate. We were greeted by Louise who gave us the roundels for the doors and as I stuck them on my wife Jana went to the room to unpack. I think the stickers complimented the car and were more easily read by those we passed than the one on the windscreen we had used last time. I chatted to a couple of owners who had just arrived and then went up to my room to change.


When I got to the room I was reminded by Jana why I am not trusted to book hotels. As she pointed out there was no shower in the en-suite. Only, it transpired, a large bathtub in the corner of the bedroom. I know it is all the rage in trendy boutique hotels but it was a shock for us. We went down to met up with the rest of the participants at the bar for a drink and a chat before the meal and then we all went through to the dining room. It was laid out as one long banqueting table with suspiciously white wedding breakfast decorations and it was only at this point that Louise admitted that she was booked into the Bridal Suite. So after more E-type related conversation over a hearty meal and an in depth discussion about the necessity for Super-unleaded petrol vs additives we turned in for the night.

The next morning broke with the sun shining brightly and a gentle sea breeze to keep the cars cool. We joined the first batch of cars and were waved off at 9:30 following a smart 4.2 FHC onto the coast road with four or five cars behind us. The route seemed more obvious than before and Jana followed the directions on her phone easily (thanks Google). As expected the convoy broke up and reformed at different times throughout the day, but we were usually in the company of one or more cars all the time.

About 30 miles into the run we passed the point where I had broken down before and I nervously glanced down at the instruments. This time all was good – all the dials were in the green so to speak.

We had planned an early stop in Suffolk and headed to the coast at Thorpeness for a comfort break. Before we got there though we passed a large metal Cowboy on the back roads and I stopped for a picture. The two meter high statue is an example of the metal sculptures produced by Paul Richardson and I thought that I’d get the E-type and the statue together. Other cars passed and wondered what I was up to.

Another photo opportunity with a metal theme was at Aldborough opposite the iconic Scallop Shell. This four-meter high steel sculpture on the beach was conceived by Suffolk-born artist Maggi Hambling and was unveiled in 2003 as a tribute to Benjamin Britten. Pictures over we left to re-join the route and met a blue E-type coming the opposite way – obviously also exploring the seaside en-route.

Next stop was lunch in the pub garden in Melton where we met up with a small group of owners and chatted about the run and what parts of the route we were taking next. We were able to park our four cars in a row which made quite a sight and I took the opportunity to chat to a man who was admiring the cars and explain why we were doing the run. He went to get his wife and daughter so they could take a look too and importantly get some money so he could make a donation.

After lunch we headed across the border and into Essex and to Abbott Racing to meet Ed Abbott. Set near the river Stour a quiet rural complex of old farm buildings and modern workshops hides the Jaguar specialist facilities. Previously known for the Abbott Racing Motorsport Team which won many British Saloon Car Racing Championships for SAAB UK, Ed also has a passion for all things Jaguar.

When you find out that he started life as a Jaguar Apprentice and progressed to being a Senior Jaguar Development Engineer it become more obvious why Abbotts also maintain and repair classic Jaguars. I have to admit that Ed also looks after my car so I know them well and I had hoped he would be letting visitors see his ‘barn find’ – an early Series 1 FHC that he is restoring – which he did. The successful XJS rally car Ed runs was also on display all-be-it in bits, following a rally a few weeks previously.

We left people looking around and chatting and headed to our next stop just a few miles later at Wrabbess to look at the Grayson Perry ‘House for Essex’. Close up it is interesting and arresting with its fairy tale looks and glinting copper roof but has divided local opinion.

It was at this point that we realised that we were spending too much time on visiting unscripted places (the danger of touring your local territory) and were falling behind on time. We therefore made our own way through the Essex backroads to speed things up and headed directly for JD Classics.

As expected we were one of the last to arrive at the facilities (now being re-branded as Woodham Mortimer after the sale of the company) and joined the next tour. Our very patient guide (historic racer Chris Ward no less) showed us around and fielded questions about the company and agreed it was ‘good to be back in business so soon’. Although the workshops were impressive and the range of cars ‘in progress’ mouth-watering, with Astons, Alfas and the odd Ferrari (Dino and 250GT to name a few) scattered around, the row of E-types outside glinting in the evening sun was just as inspiring to my eyes. By then it was time to head home, so we said our goodbyes and sped off.

We arrived home and as I parked the car in the garage it still looked good after 300 miles of great driving roads and more importantly of trouble free motoring. Would we do it again ? Yes, the welcoming nature of other owners, the buzzing atmosphere at the start and the sheer joy of driving in convoy with other E-types is intoxicating. Logically though it would be better to choose to do a leg further from home next time, so we could explore a different part of the country. Everyone we spoke to said Scotland was glorious but by the time we’d driven there from East Anglia we might as well do the whole run … now there is a thought.

But for now thanks to Philip and the team for organising this year’s run and to Louise for looking after us on our leg. 

A clear road, an E-type and the British countryside bathed in sunshine – what could be better.

Aston across the Continent

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After no rain for several weeks and cleaning the car thoroughly for the trip it was obvious that the rain would start just as we set off about 7:00 am for the port. Soon we were in a horrendous thunderstorm on the A12 and down to 50 mph. The Aston had swallowed the luggage well and we could have got more in if the bags had fitted together a bit better, but it was more than enough for the seven days away.

120 miles later and Dartford Bridge crossed, the sun had come out and we stopped at the services nearest the terminal to fill up with petrol. They seemed mostly deserted with the shops closed. Anyway we topped up with 25 litres of super unleaded and headed back on the motorway for the terminal.

At the terminal it was not really obvious when to board, but we parked up, eat breakfast and set off when called. I could not help noticing that the car was already filthy, but we still got a “beautiful car” from terminal attendant as we passed. So I blipped the throttle to their delight. The train was 20 minutes late though. On the train we hosted a family with three kids who asked to sit in the Aston to take photos – I’m not sure if the dad was the one who instigated it though, but he did not seem that interested in it.

Off the train and on towards Belgium and the Trench of Death at Diksmuide about 55 miles away. Mostly on the motorway and 130 kmh in France, but 120 in Belgium, but it gave me time to get a feel for the car – and notice a nasty blind spot on the rear quarter. The American tourists at the trenches liked the car enough to go over and look at it and take a picture.

Next was the Tyne Cot Cemetery – about 15 miles away – but via several small roads as the main one was closed. It was getting hotter and walking around in the 30+ degrees was hard going. 49 in the car was a bit hot too.

The Aston air conditioning worked well as we headed to the hotel in Ypres, less than ten miles down the road. We found a good parking spot in the Ariane Hotel – with a trio of TVR’s who had beaten us to it. Having a look they were all different models and I think we had a Tasmin (wedge) a Tamora with personalised plate and a Belgian Chimaera.

The next morning I noticed the chap with the Tasmin had cheated and cleaned the car. We passed them parked up again the next day as they eat at a café while we roared past.

Day 2

After visiting the Flanders Museum in the morning we set off for the Hooge Crater Museum (via the Menin Gate – just to hear the exhaust boom off the walls as my tribute to the fallen) but at less than three miles away we hardly warmed the car up. However parked in the sun on the side of the road for a couple of hours it hit 40 degrees inside.

From there we headed to Talbot House in Poperinge (15 miles away) again parking in the town relatively easily even if there were lots of speed bumps etc. on the way.

The run to the hotel from there was about 60 miles and we crossed from Belgium into France and passed Lille on main roads before joining rural A roads with the new 80kmh speed limit. On the run we passed the entrance to the huge Renault factory at Douai (George Besse). The area had a feel of the rundown industrial north – but with a lot more sun.

We arrived at the Manoir Les Cèdres and to be honest the entrance looked uninviting. A tight turn through an old iron gate and up a bumpy drive was followed by signs to the car park and about 500 yards of overgrown track. It was about as off road as I wanted to take the Aston. We parked up near a nice goat tethered up next to us. At least it was a safe place to park the car I thought as no one else could find it.

The hotel was set up for weddings and was aiming for the shabby-clique look – complete with heart shaped wall lamp holders – but reminded us of the old France if 30 years ago – before sanitation and modern trends had arrived. They did not do evening meals so they tried to find us a restaurant, but the two they phoned were shut – one for their summer holidays. We decided to head back to Douai and find a restaurant there but leaving grew into bigger top gear style challenge as we found the track out was overgrown and we were pushing past nettles and undergrowth as we went.

In the town we drove through the centre and there were virtually no open restaurants either. We parked on the street quickly when we stumbled on a trendy bar – they served us some snacks and frozen bread after a long wait – but we got to sit in the garden in the warm and watch the posh French drink/eat/natter.

On the way back the satnav took us through the side roads of the outskirts of a run-down area and over every steep speed bump in northern France before we had to navigate back through the tight gate and after a three point turn in the track as a short cut we parked up and woke up the goat.

Day 3

We tried a different route out of the hotel and ended up with another thee point turn. Anyway first stop was the Somme Museum at Albert about 30 miles away. Parking on the street again the car spent the morning in the sun and was back in the 40’s – so when we got back in after we had spent the morning in cool underground tunnels we felt the heat.

The drive to the next stop, Carrière Wellington in Arras, was another short 20 or so miles on quiet roads. An old quarry used as a safe hiding place for troops it cooled us down again (we even needed our fleeces) before we got back into the hot car. Next stop was petrol and a quick sandwich in the shade.

Another short hop took us up to Vimy Ridge in the heat. I did get a reaction from a couple of the guides by starting the car in the empty car park, but that was all. I also noticed that even in the empty car park people seemed to want to park far too close to it which was a bit disconcerting.

After a visit to the main monument we shot back to the hotel via a restaurant in Douai that was actually open that evening.

We stopped at a ruined factory to take pictures but the light needed a tripod and they did not flatter the car. However another 30 miles done.

Day 4

We were heading to Germany but first visited Fort Seclin just outside Lille. It was built as part of the city defences it had an entry road that was so bumpy it would have slowed down a tank – basically pave.

Having escaped back over the mile of rumble strips, we cut through the countryside and went under Lille, headed for Mons and the E42 motorway. Oh and roadworks. We passed Charleroi and headed for Liege and onto our normal run into Germany. As we went we were passing a lot of classic VWs who must have been on the way to an event (it turned out to be ‘Le Bug Show’ at the Spa circuit).

I’d intended to ‘open the taps’ on the motorway in Germany as I thought it was de-restricted but in the end most of it was a slow single carriageway runs and more road works. Finally as we got off the main road I was unsure of the rural speed limit so I was overtaken a few times running through the countryside. We arrived at about 3:00 after about 220 miles and almost five hours of very hot driving.

Day 5

I took the car out for a speed run in the late morning sunshine. The traffic was fine but the roads more bumpy than I had expected. I also found that it was actually hard to drive fast for a long time just for the fun of it. 100 mph was fine and the car accelerated up to it so easily but past that seemed a bit pointless.

I eventually hit just over 130 mph (210 kmh) so not that shabby but I found out too late that to get there I needed to be running about 110 as I entered a good empty strait. I’m sure given another run I would have topped it but that was enough. Just being able to do that speed without worrying that the police or cameras were there was great.

Day 6

Popped off to the petrol station and a quick 45 litres of super. Noticed we’d done about 660 miles – almost more than a year’s miles already.

Very hot on the drive – topped 51 degrees when I moved the car.

Got driven around in the BMW and the A5 cabriolet which was windy – ah and the roof hits you on the head if you are in the back when it goes up and down.

Day 7

A 9:15 morning start for the run home using the satnav on phone to direct us on the first stretches, which worked well. Having been told the rural limit was 100 kmh the progress was a bit more rapid. I managed another 120+ on the German motorway before the roadworks cut in again but then that was that. Stopped at the services for food in the sun again.

We got thumbs up from passing Biker which was nice – but the rest of the run back was a bit dull as it always is – so I tested the Aston satnav on the motorway and it’s probably ok if you are on your own.

We did not fill up with petrol until we hit the UK side so we made it to the terminal on 3/4 of a tank – but need a fill up before we can get home. It’s over 400 miles back and might just make it on one tank if we drove carefully but then again it might not.

Whilst waiting for the train I found the only bit of shade at the terminal that there was while waiting (40 mins late this time). I also realised that Morgans are like Nuns – you always see at least 1 at any ferry terminal.

After boarding the train I checked the tyres as I had felt a bump. I spotted a small chunk missing from the sidewall of the front nearside tyre. Probably did it boarding the train as it was run up on the metal side. Oh well I hope that’s all I find after 1000+ miles.

The final run was as expected – M20 dull, M25 delays and A12 busy but we got home before 7:30. I also felt surprisingly good after driving all the way myself. We’ve done 1079 miles all told.

So the conclusion is that you can have a holiday in the Aston and park it in public places ok. It was a bit bumpy on bad roads but copes with speed bumps and ruts and at its best on decent roads.

Sevens capture the Fort

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(Or the trials and tribulations of organising a Blat)

The thought of organising a small local run started back in 2017. I was helping out at Kentwell Hall in Long Melford Suffolk – one of the stop off points for the cars arriving at Dover for the National – and chatting to a couple of local owners we all regretted the lack of runs in recent years. I had been on a great blat in 2015 to RAF Marham – so I knew that it took a lot of work and that a special destination was key.

So later that autumn I plucked up courage and suggested to Steve (one of our local reps) that I could come up with a route and told him the destination. He jumped at the suggestion and we tried to fix a date but after a while it became obvious that I’d need more time to do the route so we decided that Summer 2018 was a good target.

I have to admit at this point that I am a serial offender (I have a couple of classic cars too) and I had created a route before which I thought I could easily ‘tune’ for Sevens. I’m part of the affectionately named Carrotland (covering Suffolk and Norfolk) and although we have some great roads my bit is the South Suffolk Coast and that is not really blat friendly. Therefore I chose the best roads from my earlier route, cut out a few of the more narrow lanes and added a faster stretch where I could.

I have an older 1700 Crossflow which is in the classic colour combination of green with a yellow nosecone. It has a lighter flywheel and other slight tuning tweaks so I’m happy to say it goes nicely, but being an early car it is a bit narrower than some – even with my clamshell wings – and has decent ground clearance.

Over the months I did the run a couple of times to check the miles, both in my family car and the Seven and changed the odd section again. Finally I created a route book with ‘Tulip-like’ instructions, plus pictures or diagrams showing the difficult turnings in detail and mapped it with the Ordinance Survey on-line software. I put it to bed and the months passed. Steve co-ordinated the joiners and soon we had enough cars signed up to make it worthwhile.

Of course I had not planned that my car would fail the MOT three weeks before the run (play in the steering rack necessitating a reconditioned rack) nor that I would be away on holiday for a week in the run up – so things got a little busy as the date approached. Luckily I got the car back with a few days to spare and I tested the route once again. This time I found one road was permanently closed for building work and another had planned re-surfacing work for the weekend. I quickly re-did the route (again) to take those changes into account and kept my fingers crossed.

Sunday was gloriously hot and sunny and when I got to the start point several cars were already there waiting. We assembled at Orwell Crossing – a large truck stop with a good carpark, café and toilets. The only problems being that the café was closed because the staff had not turned up and the car park was full of bikers !

Eventually we had the car park to ourselves and after handing out the route books and maps I waved the cars set off in two small groups. The route initially took the cars north through the edge of Ipswich and out into quiet countryside. After that it was to Woodbridge a market town on the river Deben and through the historic High Street (only open Sundays). It then drove back through the lanes until it reached the coast and the seaside. At Felixstowe the route went along the promenade and finally arrived at the historic Landguard Fort, where I had arranged with English Heritage that we were to be allowed to park inside the walls of the Fort itself.

Sitting on the coast at the edge of a Nature reserve, the original Fort was built by Henry VIII to protect access to the open sea where the rivers Orwell and Deben meet and in 1667 it repulsed an attack of 1,500 Dutch marines (musketeers, pike-men, sailors, grenadiers and small cannon) who had landed nearby. The Fort today dates back to 1744, when new red brick walls were built in the form of a pentagon. The last military use was in in 1951, when two of the old gun casemates were converted into a control room for ‘cold war’ use.

On the run of course things did not go that smoothly. We had several cars lost for a while as emergency roadworks sprang up and blocked the route and caused a small detour. We had one bashed sump on the approach to a narrow hump back bridge. Not everyone took the high street and some cars meeting us on the route were in the wrong place due to the roadworks. Finally the lower slung cars did not appreciate the agony of the final set of speed bumps (stick to the middle the book said) to get to the historic Fort.

As for me, I had done the route about ten times so I went directly to the Fort to put up parking signs and help.

As the cars arrived I directed them to park next to me inside the walls as they were shepherded across the narrow draw-bridge into the courtyard.

More and more cars were arriving and parking up, much to the delight of the other visitors that day with some generous owners letting children sit in their cars. I went back outside to help organise the arrivals and looking back at the entrance I realised that for new arrivals it looked a bit tight, getting over the moat and through the entrance gate and narrow passages.

I had hoped the location would make a great talking point and as the later cars swarmed in, early arrivals explored the building and upper levels of the Fort. The noise of the exhausts bounding off the circular walls was great too. The cars seemed to park up naturally in groups of similar colours – the bright yellow, red and blue cars standing out especially well against the dark walls of the battlements. The Fort is also next to Felixstowe docks and the giant container ships made a great counter-point to the small cars.

Eventually all seventeen cars arrived and formed a neat crescent in the courtyard and the latecomers went off to explore as well.

Through it all the Fort staff were friendly and helpful, pleased to see such a delightful spectacle that afternoon. We ate lunch, looked at the exhibitions, climbed the battlements and hid in the shade from the blistering sun. As the cars started to drift away I thanked the staff, handed over the donations we had collected for the run and headed home myself.

So would I do it again ?

Well, I think if everyone has forgiven me I might give it a go.

Alpines at the Hall

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RGEA Glevering Gathering

In early June a number of East Anglin Alpines took part in the first Rootes Group of East Anglia (RGEA.org.uk) event orgainsed by Chris Hurlock, based around Glevering Hall. Those of you who came to the final day of the 2017 National in Ipswich may remember that we met up with the Sunbeam Tigers at the Hall for the final event of the weekend – so we were hoping for the same camaraderie.

I was looking forward to the shakedown, as over the winter I had spent quite a bit of time on my car but had been able to do very few miles since. Amongst things I attended to were the leaf springs, having them re-tempered, replacing the doggy distributor and coil, had the leaking fuel tank refurbished, balancing the twin Webers and finally had the car set up on a rolling road. I even got the bonnet to shut properly after 17 years. However, to my dismay the fuel tank outlet got blocked almost immediately (which meant taking the tank out again) and I even suffered from water mixed in the fuel – so I was only back on the road a few days before the weekend.

I thoroughly cleaned the car Friday night and even managed to get a shine on my poor paintwork by cutting it back and applying two coats of wax on the bonnet. As I finished working the weather forecast had changed and it now predicted thunderstorms all Saturday. There was nothing else for it, I was going to have to put the roof up. I rarely use the hood, especially as it seems to take about an hour to erect it on my Series 1, so I found I first had to re-stick the rubber seal on the header rail which had fallen off. That done, I clipped it on and found it had shrunk a bit and was snug to say the least, but at least it would keep the worst of the weather out. 

The weekend started with a run across Suffolk, the route taking us to Thorpeness on the coast and Westleton for a pub lunch. In addition to the five Alpines (including Andreas who had come all the way from Northern Germany in his very smart Series II) and five Tigers, we were joined by a Sunbeam Rapier Coupe, a Sunbeam Rapier convertible and an ex-racing Ford Flat-head Hot-Rod.

From there it was onwards to Bentwaters Airbase – now a business park containing everything from ex-cold-war military fighter aircraft being restored to bulk Onion storage, power generation and a Film studio – it also has the hidden cold war nuclear warhead storage bunkers now used to hold cars, wine etc. We assembled at the control tower to climb up and see the views before we were given a VIP guided tour of the airfield by the owner.

The first hanger was full of aircraft under restoration including a Gloster Meteor and an English Electric Lighting. Then we were escorted around the bunkers before being taken to the private museum.

The first unit we went into contained more tractors than I had ever seen in one place – that was until we crossed the road to the actual museum. The collection is outstanding and contains many rare tractors, pre-war cars and other vehicles, as well as hosting working traction engines and agricultural machinery.

Part of the museum was run by the owner’s wife and contained an exhibition of dresses from the last 100+ years – which I would admit was more interesting for the men that we expected.

The good news was that despite the odd shower, we avoided the ever-present thunderstorms most of the day. However the bad news was that on the journey back my car had started to make a clunking/crashing/rumbling noises from the rear. This got worse and worse as we drove on the bumpy back lanes. We got back to the hotel and I could not see anything loose – but bouncing the rear quarter immediately brought the noise back.

On the Sunday the weather was great, so I took the roof off (taking almost as long as putting it up did) but I had decided not to put the car though too much stress as I needed to drive home later, so I gingerly drove the car to Glevering Hall, parked up and joined everyone in another car. The run took a growing number of Rootes cars across Suffolk, past windmills, crinkly walls and after a stop at an Antique shop we all met back at the Hall again for a BBQ. 

About 30 vehicles assembled on the lawn in front of the Hall as we chatted, ate the BBQ food and looked at the cars. By the end of the afternoon we had glorious sunshine and a great turnout.

I counted 30 cars including a 1940’s Humber staff car, a 1953 Sunbeam Talbot, an Imp Chamois, Hillman Hunter, a Husky, plus more Tigers and most of the cars from the first day. Oh and a Bedford lorry that had delivered the Husky.

I left late and carefully drove home listening for the noises to get worse. Home safely, I left it a couple of days before I had the courage to get under the car – only to find that the off side leaver arm was held on by two threads on the bolts. Somehow I must have missed a washer off when I put it back together and that had loosened everything else – luckily for my pride the U-bolts were fine although I gave them a tighten anyway.

Finally, thanks to Chris and his team: Rob, John, Alex and Tom who helped make it possible and we hope to see more Alpines next time.

Leg 1 – Round Britain Sail 2018

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I have seen things you people wouldn’t believe

Well, OK not exactly attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion, but a few sea-beams glittering in the dark off Grimsby … and we did see a Puffin, a Gannet and a Guillemot in the wild.

Day 0

So wind back to late afternoon on Sunday the 6th May and we’re in the SAAB driving to North Frambridge, down through leafy Essex country lanes to join Kingfisher: a Beneteau Oceanis 361 (36 foot) cruising yacht. We parked up and have supper in the Ferry Boat Inn around 6pm (it was closing early for food even though it was a warm and sunny bank holiday) and discover it has no draft beer left. We eat and then join the boat and meet the other crew members who are saying their farewells on the pontoon. Odd meeting people like that – cold – with few introductions and not knowing what is actually expected. Lots of open questions – probing the background, income, status, religion, politics, married status and age. Oh and sailing experience. We got through that part fine.

Kingfisher was one of two boats, Charlotte Elizabeth (CE) being the other, doing the Round Britain sail for the McMillian Cancer charity. It was organised by Premier Sailing, although the charity aspect was a bit lost in all the instructions.

Our other crew members had a wide spread of experience: we had Barrie who was a very experienced sailor, had owned many boats over the years and had ventured as far as Denmark and Karen who was very much a novice and was getting her first taste of real sailing ahead of crossing the Atlantic with her brother in the summer in a trimaran. The Skipper was another Martin who was a qualified Yacht Master, trainer and very experienced in boats big and small. So that night we had an awkward pint in the pub with both crews (Rob 1 [Rob 2 joining in the morning], Steve, Frank and Skipper David from CE) crawled into the fore-peak and sleep on the boat.

North Frambridge to Shotley

A civilised start at 7:00 for a shower and breakfast on board, then after some photos of the boats and crews we set off in the sunshine and very light winds at 9:15.

It’s about 20 miles down the river Crouch to the sea and it gave us time to get familiar with the boat. It was a full day but an easy ‘sail’ that was mostly motoring to Shotley and we arrived before 18:00. The ship’s log said the best we saw was a 3 knot wind and we travelled exactly 50 miles, but we suspect the log is over reading a bit. It felt a bit odd to berth opposite Fidra, in our home marina and only 10 miles from The Beeches and a nice en-suite.

We have supper on board (discovered Barrie could not eat onions) and after the washing up was done, had a pint with the other crew and go to bed early.

Shotley to Lowestoft

An earlier 6:00 am start to get a shower then we set off at 7:30 and headed into the unknown. We seem to pass the river Deben very quickly even in the light winds and soon we were heading into seas we had not tried ourselves. We have to motor again as the wind is light and mostly behind us. Aldeburgh, Sizewell and Southwold are soon passed and the winds starts to strengthen to 10 knots around 15:00.

We deployed the Cruising Chute and turned the engine off at last and for about an hour we sail on until Lowestoft is in sight and we have to turn in. We tie up at 17:00 – rafting up beside CE. Another sunny 55 miles under our belts (give or take).

A walk to Asda for food via the A12 crossing did nothing to make Lowestoft look better but it was nice to stretch the legs. Supper on board again, a quick pint together and we turned in – not forgetting a visit to the polished brass of the Royal Norfolk & Suffolk Yacht Club toilets though.

Lowestoft to Whitby (Grimsby)

An early start today as we had a long run to Whitby of about 30 hours with the overnight stretch to come, so we were up at 5:00 for showers and then a 6:00 departure

Again we had sun but shy winds to start with. We motored past wind turbine arrays and up the coast across the Wash, meeting a few commercial ships as we went.

About 16:00 the winds had strengthened to 15 knots and were from the East so we set the sails and retired the engine again. The silence is better anyway. About 18:00 the wind was almost directly behind us so we deployed the Cruising Chute again and sailed up the coast and into the darkness.

We had decided on 3 hour watches over night and Jana and I chose the early one as it got dark – to be followed by the 21:00 to 00:00 watch and then the 03:00 to 06:00 coming into the light.

About 22:30 we were still sailing south of Grimsby, it was now calm but dark and becoming bitterly cold and we were getting ready to furl the sails and motor on to Whitby. Jana was on the helm and we were skirting a large anchorage looking out for buoys and moving commercial shipping. The wind had dropped considerably and we decided to start the engine and round up to drop the sails. Jana tried to turn but could not get the Morse into gear and there appeared to be no power from the engine. So we’re bobbing about just outside the busy anchorage with no steerage from either sail or engine. Ummm.

Skipper Martin and I then tear the boat apart. Engine cover off. Two of us trying to diagnose the issue while Jana holds onto the wheel looking at the approaching coasters. The crew members sleeping are forced aside in their bunks as we have to open the access covers to the engine and delve into the machinery. As for me I’m looking at it like a car engine – where are the gears and throttle linkage. CB spots a ship nearing us and contacts them to ask them to give us a wide berth which they do. She is still motoring on and eventually loses sight of us in the dark.

I stretch into the engine compartment behind the gearbox and can manage to force the boat into reverse and then neutral – so it can be manually controlled into gear. There is still no power to steer so I trace the throttle cable and the two wires near the injectors. The first seems to be the accelerator but the second is unknown so I pull it – bugger that kills the engine. We re-start it quickly and I use my thumb to give Jana revs while the other Martin puts it into gear – so that part of the controls still seems to be working and we realise it is the throttle cable that is broken.

As my thumb is getting a bit stiff and the fumes from the hot engine are filling the cabin I decide that we need a bit of help keeping the power on. No thin screwdriver is available so I find a large flat metal cooking spoon and jamb it into the mechanism. Success – we have about 1000 rpm and I can close the engine cover.

The spoon falls out a few minutes later and the revs drop. I refine the technique and use a smaller spoon which fits better. Skipper Martin is looking for a course and ports we can make for that will still have water on the falling tide. Several are considered and in the end Grimsby looks the best – even though it looks like it will be close to low water as we get to the lock gates. The chart actually shows it drying – with little other information – but it seems our best bet.

Barrie is evicted from his cabin and helps us diagnose the problem whilst Karen is rudely evicted from hers and moved to the forepeak. I’m looking at how we control the engine revs – a small or a large spoon is not really a good long term solution. The problem is that to work the mechanism we need to pull it back towards the stern, but we only have access from the front. I work out that we can use one of the fittings in the engine compartment to act as a pivot and we use some thin twine rapped around it to act as a throttle cable.

This snaps almost immediately.

Luckily Barrie finds some thin rope which is stronger and we thread it through the fitting only for that to jamb, but re-routing it a second time gives a smooth control. We tie a loop in the rope to hold on to (another use for a bowline) and we can now work the engine manually. In order to maintain the revs without holding it we tie a screwdriver to the rope, and wedge two more under each end.

By about 00:30 we have it sorted and having now stabilised the revs we add a pack of cards under each screwdriver for more power, eventually we add two more packs for the 2000 rpm we want as we motor towards Grimsby. CE had lost sight of us but eventually finds us in the dark after some signals from the torch and falls in closely behind.

Jana has been on the helm all this time and is getting chilly whilst I am very hot having been in front to the open engine and crawling around. At 01:30 we both go below for an hour to try to get some sleep. We resume our next watch at 03:00 as we near Grimsby and discover that the next problem is that none of us speak the language. We’re told that there is no water, the gates are shut and we’ll have to be locked in. We assume that means we’ll have to wait until morning. There is also something about ropes – which we also can’t translate.

We find there is plenty of water as we approach the lock at Grimsby – which the chart does not seem to show. We realise that the ropes will be thrown to us if we go starboard side to and enter the small lock. CE rafts alongside and together we bob around as the outer gates shut – narrowly missing the stern of CE and as I fend off we gently tap the closed gates with the anchor in the swell. They open and we’re through, still rafted up to CE who helps manoeuvre us to the visitor’s pontoon with skipper Martin shouting instructions to Barry below who operates the makeshift accelerator cable by hand.

It is 6:00 and seven hours after the engine fault and we have sailed just short of 140 miles. We tie up and after making sure everything is ok by 7:30 we are all in our bunks to get some sleep.

Grimsby

When we wake around 9:00 skipper Martin has already contacted base and a new throttle cable is being sent up by courier – it is due around 14:00. As a back-up he has also contacted a marine engineer locally who is also bringing a cable. After a shower in the Humber Cruising Association showers and breakfast on board we are asked to move the boats by the Marina office and again Barry acts as the remote throttle as we gingerly move pontoons.

We then help Martin take off the old unit and investigate where the problem occurred. The throttle control cable is in fact a complicated fixed length sealed unit made up of a thick wire encased in metal, which runs inside an outer protective sheath – this has crimped ends which terminate in threads that screw into units on either end – one into the Morse throttle leaver and the other to the engine. Our unit broke about 10 cm from the throttle at the point it bends most.

While we’re taking everything apart to remove the old cable, Karen goes in to Grimsby for more provisions. She returns some hours later with a tale of a post-apocalyptic landscape and describes trying to rescue a fox cub on wasteland that had a crisp packet stuck on its head – luckily the mother fox appeared and they ran off.

We have lunch and wait for the cable. A man arrives and tells us an engineer is on his way. Where we sail next is determined by the time we can get the cable fitted and the tides. There is still a chance to get into Whitby, but only if we arrive two hours each side of high water. We wait for the cable. We are also low on fuel so need to fill up – but having dismantled everything we can’t move the boat. Barrie suggests we top up using the spare fuel cans each boat carries and refill them at the pontoon which we do. We wait for the cable.

The courier with the cable arrives around 16:30 – the marine engineer never did. We lay the two cables next to each other and discover the new one is about 2 meters longer than the old one. We later discover that the old cable was fitted as an earlier repair when the longer one was not available. After an hour of work threading the cable through the boat via a visit the bottom of the rear locker to thread it through the steering mechanism, it is ready to be fitted to the Morse. The split pin is so small that it keeps popping out so I lie down and reach in holding it down while the skipper lies next to me and fits the unit. Done.

However it does not look right. Skipper Martin looks at the photo of the old one he took and discovers we have fitted it incorrectly. There is a clip that is in the wrong place meaning there is too much movement. Martin starts to dismantle the unit again and I locate a bigger split pin – in twenty minutes it’s all back together and working correctly.

For some time now Barrie has been cooking supper and it’s almost ready, but we need to undertake sea trials. Supper is put on hold as the boat is manoeuvred off the pontoon and tours the marina – reporting that the cable action is smoother and better than before.

That evening the sun was warm and we eat on deck, have a G N T and a glass of wine and celebrate our team work and the result. The time we needed to fix everything has determined our next leg. We have to have an early start with another overnight sail up the coast to Newcastle over 100 miles away.

The weather is looking more challenging too with wind and rain peppering the forecast.

Grimsby to Newcastle

We need an early start to catch the best of the tides so we are up at 04:15 and by 5:00 we’re leaving Grimsby behind as the sun and moon both rise together in the East over a calm sea.

By 07:00 the engine is off and we’re sailing under jib alone but doing well in the 17 knot winds.

All day we are able to sail, only putting the motor on around 15:00 to top the batteries up. The wind and waves are getting stronger and by 17:00 are averaging well above 20 knots so we put two reefs in the jib.

There are lots of sea birds by now and we see out first Guillemots (small fat bird) and Gannets (large muscular bird) and then at last a Puffin or two fly past with their distinctive beaks.

The wind continues to rise and we see gusts of over 30 knots of wind (just below gale and into a force 7) and the boat tops 8 knots through the water. The waves are getting tricky and 3 meters high blocking out the horizon behind us. Around 23:00 the sea is calmer and we shake out the reefs. We see very few ships but eventually spot a large brightly lit object far away which we can’t recognise.

Overnight we have decided to do two hour watches to try to avoid getting too cold. Our first real watch being the 21:00 to 23:00 one and Jana and I do 30 minute spells on the helm. I’m finding it hard to keep warm even with all my layers on and can’t get much sleep when off watch as I am just lying in the cabin.

Jana wakes me at 01:00 and I need a few minutes to get up as I have been dead to the world. The wind is still around 18 knots but the sea state is getting easier to manage. The large object we had spotted two hours earlier is still ahead of is and turns out to be a large tanker at anchor off the coast even though the water is over 50 meters deep. We sail past in near daylight as their lights are so bright.

We finish the watch and catch a bit more sleep, this time I lie down properly in the aft cabin and get some rest. At 05:00 it is my turn to be awake and have to shake Jana a couple of time to raise her. The wind has dropped to 8 knots and we are under motor as we approach Newcastle.

By 05:30 we are though the breakwater and heading for the lock. A 6:00 we berth in the North Shields Royal Quays Marina, tie the boat up and go to bed. It has taken 25 hours to do 143 miles (give or take the log error) so we averaged around 5 ½ knots.

Newcastle

A slow start and heavy rain over night but we’re tucked up in the cabin. Then we have our showers before breakfast and a bit of a clean we bid farewell to Karen who is leaving this morning – we wish her well for her trip. After a bit more work we decide on tonight’s celebration – fish and chips in a pub.

We walk to our recommended pub via a bit of culture (for Jana).

We arrive at the packed Low Lights Tavern.

We sample the beer it brews and find that it does great fish and chips and Steak pies. A large group of young lads arrive with a guitar and start to sing at the top of their voices. We meet up with the remaining crew from CE and join the singing. Our contribution is adding Delilah to their repertoire.

We walk back and chat about the week before bed.

Newcastle to Holbrook

The day is taken mainly up with a journey of several stages to get home. We swap details with Barrie and confirm we’ll aim to do the Caledonian Canal leg in 2019.

We all leave the boat, then take a taxi, train1, train2, a coach and eventually we reach Ipswich to be picked up by Oli and Lucy in their car.

Home at last.

Lotus Seven National 2017

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60 years of the Seven

Day 1

Off to help with the cars arriving from Dover at Kentwell Hall in Long Melford. I set off early as the dark black clouds were looming – and saw lightening as I passed under the Orwell bridge – but I had a fine run up through the main roads – a bit hampered by slow traffic – just thankful the rain moved away.

I took up a position directing cars into the car park that had been set up – and of course had to direct the odd ‘civilian’ visiting the hall as well. I began to enjoy the legitimacy that a high-vis jacket gives you.

The first car arrived just before 12:30 then continued in dribs and drabs until about 70 cars had arrived. There were few early cars and I only spotted one Lotus although there was a S4 so that must have been old. They were mostly modern models but had all come far though with French, German and Swiss number plates and an odd collection of luggage solutions. Most appreciated was using the spare tyre holder for a retro suitcase.

Towards the end of the day we had reports of a crashed car so a party set out to look for it, but I had no more news. I could hear thunder in the distance about 2:30 and the forecast said rain at home so I set off about 3:00 wondering what would hit me. I passed some Caterhams going in the other direction on the way home so they were very late.

 No rain thankfully but I came home with no brake lights. Investigation showed an intermittent brake pressure switch. Hopefully I can get one at the show.I added tools, some spare oil and bits and bobs, checked the oil and tyres and then put the cover on the car for tomorrow.

Let’s see how we get on !

Day 2 – They’re off

The day started by looking for a break pressure switch – which surprisingly I found in Ipswich at my first attempt. ‘It will be here by 11:15’ he said. Woopie !

While I waited I gathered up the paperwork, the instructions and checked the route. It looked longer than I had imagined which was worrying. Manchester airport is quite a run – virtually Liverpool if I remember rightly. Manchester airport – I thought it was called East Midlands Airport ? It dawned on me I had booked the wrong hotel three months ago. Only 80 miles North of where we needed to be.

Panic rushed through me – but I managed to book the right hotel (let’s not think of the extra cost) and cancel the wrong one within 5 minutes – adrenaline is a great accelerator.

I went to get the switch early just in case it had arrived. It had. I got home and had it fitted within 5 minutes. It did not work.

So we left about 1:00 pm in the sunshine – with me a bit worried, very deflated and Oliver still sick. It was already about 25 degrees (mid 70’s) and felt warmer in the car.

The first 30 minutes were horrible and I could only feel the bumps in the tarmac and the car moving unpredictably in and out of the the lorry tracks on the A14. By the end of an hour though I was relaxing and driving fine, but it was getting very hot.

We stopped after 80 miles to fill up with petrol and buy cold water (we could have made tea with the water we had with us which was super-hated by now). I chatted to a chap who parked next to us in a 5 litre Mustang fastback and was looking at the Caterham. He was on his way to a track day/night at Bedford having left Kent that morning to go via Surrey to pick up a ‘quiet’ exhaust, and then via to Colchester to have it fitted. It did not sound quiet as he roared off. A long run but then he did have air conditioning a radio, a satnav and a roof.

Our next leg was up to Bedford avoiding the A14 roadworks and hopefully giving us a more consistent run to the M1. I drove again as Oliver was visibly still suffering.

I missed the M1 (again) at the roundabout and we had to go via the outskirts of Milton Keynes which was actually OK, but put a few more minutes on the journey. Eventually we joined an almost stationary M1 a junction later and shuffled up it for another 30 miles until we had to stop as we were both so hot. The car was fine when running about 50-60 mph, but as soon as we slowed to walking pace the engine warmed up and the heat flooded into the foot wells.

The final leg was better that expected although it was only pottering at 50 mph for most of the next hour. We turned off the M1 as planned, just as the traffic came to a halt again at the next set of roadworks and went through the back roads to the hotel. Eventually reaching it at just before 6:00 pm. We had done 190 miles and it had taken five and a half hours. We were both shattered, but it proved to me I could drive to Portsmouth.

We unpacked, rested for a bit and then set off to get more petrol and find the secure parking where we planned to leave the car for the night. The knocking noise from the rear seemed to be getting worse though and it sounded like we needed oil – that and no brake lights meant I decided that blats were out.

After following the signs to the ‘Lotus Event’ we arrived at the secure parking – to be told that it was a 4 mile walk to the F1 museum and registration. By this time we had about 10 cars in tow – all as bemused as us – and turning round with us. Our little convoy drove back to the main entrance and found the cars there, we parked on the grass and went to register.

Registration was well managed (although the signs showing which queue we should join was obscured by the queue itself) and we were quickly signed in and looking for the museum and some food.

We joined a longer queue into the building which was not really moving very fast. We chatted to a couple next to us who were both six foot and asked how they managed to fit ? He explained that he had a long cockpit car with the seats as far back as he could get them and bolted directly to the floor so he did fit.

The queue was not moving – just getting longer – so Oliver went in to see what was happening. As he did I spotted Andrew (a local Caterham owner) coming out so I quizzed him. He explained that the queue was only for signing on for runs etc. and the museum entrance had no queue – with the food at the end of the museum. We went strait in.

The F1 museum was a bit dull – to be brutal. Even for a car fan. The exhibits were jumbled and did not seem to have a theme. There were old and new cars together and it was not a lot on the walls to put the exhibits in context. The Vanwall stand was an exception, although if you did not know the history you might not have got their significance – British Racing Green beating ‘Those dam red cars’ – eventually.

We queued for the food – which was a basic office buffet – and sat on the grass as there were not nearly enough tables for everyone – and chatted to the same couple as before. They left to re-join the signing-on queue and we finished our food, deciding not to queue for a drink. We decided to try to sign up for the parade lap – but unfortunately not the blats. More people were joining the queue – some without registering beforehand so we helpfully directed them to the right place. Eventually we signed up for the lap and decided to go back to the hotel.

Walking back to the car it was obvious that the unmade dirt road and powerful Caterham side exhausts had been a great combination, creating a dust cloud that had covered the cars parked near the road in a fine white dust. Each row back had less muck on them than the previous ones and as we were four rows back we still had a green and yellow car – although it was visibly very dusty.

We drove back to the hotel, parked up, put the cover on the car, had a quick beer and went to bed early.

The Main Event

After a slow start and a cooked breakfast we set off for the secure parking again.

This time we were in the right place and were directed around the paddock by men in white high-vis jackets that we could not really see against the cars and people milling about. Eventually though we lined up with lots of cars, mainly Caterhams, but with a few Lotus models in the mix. All the cars were different colours and specifications as expected, in fact all day we did not see a car identical to ours – even though Green and Yellow is a common combination.

We checked the oil and it was low so we topped it up with the 2 pints I had, expecting to be able to buy more at the show. On the way we passed a French car with a badly damaged front end and I wondered if this was the crashed car I had heard about on Thursday, the driver would have been fine so I hoped so.

Next we wondered down to the slalom track the cars were starting to use, but it was a bit dull and we were too far away to see much We had a look at the cars parking up and decided to go into the main show area and look at the vendor stands.

There were only about 6 stands and one car dealer. The stands were mainly selling racing parts for modern cars although there was Softbits for Sevens where I had bought my hood and bag. There was no parts or spares suppliers, not even a stall selling washing equipment or polish. Certainly nowhere to buy a brake pressure switch, oil, nor any other parts to maintain an old cross-flow. A bit disappointed we mooched around the ‘heritage’ cars – where there was a nice group of old Lotus Seven models – including one with a Lotus Holbay engine.

We drifted to the tarmac lake where another speed event was taking place but again it was hard to get any feeling for the cars speed as everything was too far away as before.

We looked for the parts stall the club had spoken about and found one small table top with a few sad looking bits on it. Other than that they were selling club T-shirts etc. and had set up a game to see who could change a wheel the quickest – which looked both dull and hot work. We gave it all a miss.

It was getting on for 12:00 by then and we had exhausted the entertainment at the show, so we decided to go into the main circuit, get some food and watch some racing, taking advantage of the discounted ticket offer (£7.50 each) so £15 lighter we were exploring the pits and looking for the food.

The food was as you would expect – basic. I even shocked the staff by asking for my panini to be heated up. We grabbed two seats at a table with a couple of chaps in marshals uniforms. They did not really want to engage in conversation initially, although they warmed up later. It turned out that one was a full marshal and the other on an induction day. The marshal was an ex-minor who now sprayed cars for a living and the other was a keen racing fan who helped out one of the race teams in his spare time. They seemed to warm to Oli when they found out he worked in manufacturing and listened attentively to him talking about food safety and his hobbies.

We left to see some racing and sat in the stands for a Caterham race – the action was always somewhere else though. The highlight was a Lancaster bomber that flew overhead. We moved on and found some benches to sit at with a good view of the track. The noise of the cars changed noticeably when the top rank went out (the R400s) and there was some close racing – it was getting hotter. The racing kept us entertained but we were really just waiting for the parade lap preparation at 5:30 though.

About 5:00 we wondered back to the cars pausing to watch the start of the last full race at the first corner. A good choice because as the pack all funneled into the corner a Caterham clipped the back of another and after it’s front wheel reached head height and bounced down, they both skidded off the track into the gravel in front of us.

Neither driver was hurt and it turned out that they were both from the sale team/sponsor. Their cars were towed out of the deep gravel and off the track, both were lightly damaged and started easily but they drove despondently back to the pits.

At just before 5:30 we joined the cars assembling informally in rows just outside the Tarmac Lake where we had been instructed that we needed to be. We had been told that if we were late that we would be unable to join in. The spontaneous organisation of the neat rows stumped the team who were going to organise us, as about 100 cars had lined up in the opposite direction to their plan, so they changed the entrance to match our formation and by about 6:00 they had started to line the cars up in groups of 30.

We were in the second group and got in position quickly. It took until about 7:30 for all the cars to be organised and people were getting hot and bothered. Our instructions were to go onto the track in the groups of 30, to drive 2/3 cars abreast (not to be in single file) and re-assemble in our group at the start finish line for the big photo. Above all we needed to keep the speed to 40 mph max.

During the wait more club photos were taken and we were instructed to be ‘either “in” or “out” of the cars’ which confused the native English speakers – so the continentals had no chance of understanding what was meant. A few angry repeats until we realised ‘in the car’ or ‘out of shot’ was what he wanted. ‘Hot and bothered’ was past and ‘getting board’ was approaching fast. At the back of the pack a Frenchman unfurled a French flag and was unceremoniously boo’ed.

Eventually we started to move off and immediately the plan broke down. The gate could only take one car at a time as could the entrance to the track. The leader of our group shot off when he got onto the track (doing more that 40 mph we were sure) leaving the cars behind trying to catch up and following him at whatever speed they liked. At this point we were still trying to get through the first gate. We were the last of the cars to get onto the track so we drove alone and tried to catch up. We probably hit 60 mph at one point, but it’s a twisty track so we just pottered along. When we got to the finishing line the cars were all jumbled up and it took the organisers a long time to get them back into neat rows. Cars stretched out in front and behind us.

In the end we were all assembled and more photographs were taken – although we were not allowed out of the cars. After a frustratingly long time we got off the track and parked up back in the paddock again. It was just after 8:00 and we heard that the last cars did not make it off the track until about 8:30 almost three hours since they had started out.

Next we looked for food – there were no obvious signs but asking people revealed that they thought it was a short walk down the hill past the campsite. It was, and we were soon sitting down with our hog roast and a pint of shandy each. The food was generally quite good – although the potatoes were so hard they were inedible – and the portions generous.

The tables were arranged in rows with benches, like a French country meal, so everyone sat with everyone else. We tried to engage a German couple that sat next to us but although she spoke good English, he did not – so they ignored us. We ate up and decided to head to home early again as we were both tired from being in the sun all day.

Hitting the road early

We’d decided to get going early and by 8:00 am we were having breakfast in the hotel and were ready to hit the road about 8:30.

As we were taking off the hood and packing the car we talked to another couple who were doing the same. He was a bit miffed that he had bought tickets for the racing in advance at a discounted rate of £16 each, only to find that at 2:00 pm they opened the gates for everyone to get in for free. I guess our £15 for two people was fine then. Oh and as they were vegetarians they were unimpressed by the solitary burger van the club had provided in its area.

Oliver was feeling better so he drove the first leg – 125 miles in one go in fact. The traffic was light and the morning cool but the car soon warmed us up. It was a good balance for the first hour and then started to get very warm again. The car went well and as we could keep up a steady 65 it kept a bit cooler as well.

We stopped for petrol and more water in Cambridge as the heat was starting to attack us again. Coming out of the air conditioned supermarket it was like being abroad – as a wall of heat hit you.

I took over the driving and it felt more natural than it had done two days before. I guess I’d got used to the car on the motorway. The car seemed to be running well to.

We were home just before 12:00 – another 190 miles under our belts and only three and a half hours on the road including a stop.

Would we go to another Caterham event like this ? On balance it was enjoyable, but lacked enough to keep the non-racer, or those who did not go on the blats, entertained for three days. There were few opportunities to spend money on bits and the organisation was patchy. If the car had been happy and we’d gone on the runs and met more people we had known, then it would have been a better event for us.

Did it justify the cost ? Including the tickets, the petrol, the bits I bought like the bag and hood, changing the hotel at the last minute and the tickets to the racing, plus the food Oliver bought, it was just over £850 for the two of us. Discounting the cost of the equipment that I will use again it was about £250 each.

That is the price of a train ticket to London and a VIP hospitality package at a high end classic car event. Perhaps not a direct comparison but it puts the cost into perspective.

I finished off the day unpacking the Caterham boot and taking it off to top up with petrol hoping the clocking would have stopped. It had not. Overall then we did just over 26 miles per gallon on the run. Not bad really.

I took the Mk2 for a run and shuffled the cars around in the late afternoon sun ready for the Alpine work on Tuesday.

Then I put them all to bed.

E-Type Club Round Britain Coastal Drive 2016

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The Run Up

Given the Indian Summer that September had served up it was almost inevitable that the rain would arrive. As I looked out of the window on the Monday, afternoon drizzle turned to real rain. At least the dust will have been washed off the roads a bit I thought.

My interest in the weather was due to having decided to volunteer my 1964 E-Type 3.8 Fixed Head Coupe to do the last three legs of the E-Type Club Round Brittan Coastal Run. Organised by Philip Porter and run on behalf of Prostrate Cancer UK, it comprised of 18 legs starting and ending at Goodwood Circuit and taking in as much of the UK coast line as possible. Participants had paid to do one or more legs to raise money for the charity with rides in the more famous cars also being auctioned off.

Many people chose to do their local sections and I as am fortunate enough to be close to both the ‘Cromer to Maldon’ and ‘Maldon to Folkestone’ ones I picked those. After a while I also decided that it seemed bad form not to do the final run from Folkestone to Goodwood circuit as well, hence I booked myself in for all three. I had talked to a couple of friends about coming with me as the route was quite complex, but in the end my son James had a few spare days before starting work and offering to navigate for me – a decision he questioned when I presented him with the fiendishly detailed road book on the first morning.

The car was cleaned, Oil, Water and Tyres checked and all packed up ready for the off that morning. It’s at times like these I praise the FHC boot space and access via the rear hatch and it easily swallowed our luggage, coats, tools and all the spare parts I had with us.We set off for Cromer late Monday afternoon – in an attempt to avoid the Norwich rush hour – aiming to book into our hotel that night in preparation for the early start the next day. We were staying in the Dales Country House Hotel in Sherringham, only a fifteen minute drive from the Tuesday morning start point just outside Cromer, but 80 miles and two hours away from home.

The drive up was good – only punctuated by a few odd showers – more annoying was the dirty spray from the lorries coming down the A140. We followed a rainbow up ahead – always out of reach but getting stronger as we progressed – that was a portend of worse rain, but we never caught it up. Round Norwich was as expected – traffic better than rush hour but still the City is in need of a decent ring road. We passed a light blue E-type on the route and they waved us on our way.

The final 29 miles great driving roads – but it was getting dark when we approached Cromer looking for petrol and I’d forgotten how poor the Jaguar’s lights are. We found three petrol stations – to our disappointment one was closed and the next two had no Super-unleaded. Eventually we found a mainstream Esso station on the Sherringham coast road that had what we needed. The enthusiastic youth behind the counter wanted the car ‘how much and where can I get one ?’ he asked – but thought it was an MG.Soon we arrived at the hotel, to a full car park with no spaces left but at least there was another S2 4.2 FHC. I saw a gap in the wall that in the dark looked like the overflow carpark, but turned out to be a short off road course leading to the compost heap.

We off loaded out bags and as I was waiting outside for a space a chap came out and I asked if he was leaving, it turned out that he was the E-Type owner and he and his wife were off for the formal meal elsewhere.

Chatting to him the next morning I learned that they had hit a wall of water from the rain clouds we had seen earlier that afternoon as they came onto the Norfolk coast making driving very difficult – so I guess we were luckier than I thought. Another E-type (S2 FHC) arrived later that night before there were spaces – looked at the road I had taken but thought better of the off road path after a good look – he seemed to have better lights too.

So having planned an early start and set the alarm we turned in.

Day 1

Morning was chilly but the sun was shining. The car sat in the shade covered by a thick layer of clear dew. Excellent for leathering off and cleaning I thought, so I started work about 7:30 am while James had a shower. We skipped breakfast, set off early as planned and James navigated us the 10 miles to the start point through the lanes easily.

We got to the Hotel early with only a few other E-Types parked up outside. To be honest when we went in we felt a bit like outsiders – as those staying in the hotel chatted over their breakfast. However more and more cars turned up including one with Marcus (a personable and knowledgeable Australian who works for Suffolk Sports Cars I’d met a few days before) so the three of us chatted and watched the rest of the cars arrive.

Soon the carpark was filling up and owners had to navigate to the far end. All hearts went out to the owner of a red 2+2 who arrived with battered sides and front wing – he’d been hit by a modern car earlier in the tour – and everyone gritted their teeth as people scraped their exhausts on the steep speed bump that guarded the entrance.

We watched the local press chat to a few owners and then the reporter went off for a ride in a Left-hand drive primrose S1 soft top. Eventually the time ticked on to 10:00 and we quickly joined a queue for the first batch of cars getting ready for the off. Getting flagged away about 10:10 we set off following several cars – hoping the leader knew the way. The roads were good – but the route book practically useless. Luckily the car in the lead sped us along the route or as close as made no difference as far as James could see. We passed along the Norfolk coast with lots of similar ‘Beach Road’ or ‘Coast Road’ signs flashing past as did small villages, fields and some smaller seaside towns.

At one point we turned abruptly off the route into a very narrow road which got even more rural with the grass in the middle getting longer and longer each minute until we popped out at a cross roads. Fifteen minutes later more cars had caught us up we were in the middle of a convoy about seven strong and running through great roads. There was even the odd appreciative nod or wave from people we passed. There is always something heart-warming about being in a convoy of classic cars – even James commented on the feeling that it brought us – and as we zoomed on, even the sun seemed to come out a little more.

However, about 30 miles into the run I spotted the charging light glowing faintly when the revs dropped. I looked over to the ammeter and saw it sitting sullenly in the discharge zone. I tried keeping the revs up which helped a bit, but it seemed to be a losing battle so I pulled off into a carpark to check if anything had fallen off. Obviously it had not (it never is that simple) so checking the route I decided to keep on the main roads to maintain the revs and decide what to do as we went.

The plan worked for a few miles but then we hit traffic getting round Yarmouth and the red light seemed to be more consistent. I resolved to push on and pull into a petrol station with a large forecourt and check and tighten the fan belt in safety rather than just let the car peter out on the road. A few miles later as we past Lowestoft we spotted a Shell site and
I stopped at the far end, in the shade to investigate.

Several minutes later I’d got the tools out and started tightening the belt when a dark blue E-type drew up to fill up with petrol. He parked up and came over to see if he could help. It turned out that he was Phil Bell, an editor on Thoroughbred and Classic Cars magazine. Obviously a knowledgeable enthusiast we chatted about the possible cause and testing the tension on the belt he confirming my feeling that it was tight enough and suggesting I called the SNG breakdown team supporting the run.

He was navigating on his own and his plan of following another car backfired when it pulled over to confess they were also lost. Phil left to re-join the run wishing us well. Several more E-Types passed the garage and another white S1 E-type stopped to see if they could help.

I rang the SNG Barrett support team and spoke to Simon. He said he was about 15 minutes away so I finished tightening the belt while we waited. I’d just finished when he arrived. Ten minutes with the circuit tester confirmed the worse and he found that the Dynamo was only just charging at 3000 revs and not really working at all below that. The ignition light glowed slightly even at those high revs so there was no easy solution. He also thought the belt had stretched which is why the dynamo would hit the cross member on full adjustment.

He had not got a Dynamo nor a voltage regulator in his spares and knew they had none back at base. Cheerfully he confirmed that I’d probably get the 60 miles home if I did not use the lights/indicators/wipers etc. and possibly up to 100 miles if all went well. He suggested I swapped batteries every few hours with another car to continue the run (it would therefore get re-charged) but my heart was no longer in it.

As a final thought I put in a call into JD Classics in Maldon (the high end Classic Car specialist) who had worked on my car before and was conveniently our destination that night. Although they don’t normally use them any more (reliability problems) they were hopeful as they used them to concourse cars and went off to search for one, but unfortunately they rang back to confirm they had no serviceable units left in stock.

We headed for home and with every few miles the charging light got brighter. I knew that the spark plugs drew a very little current and having had the same position in my Citroen fifteen years before I knew the logic was right and the battery would last – it was just waiting for the stuttering as the spark died that stressed me.

However we got home as the sun faded and the storm clouds came out again and parked up safely back in my garage – not the end to the run I had wanted but OK in the end.

James and I went down in the SAAB to go on the tour of the JD Classics’ impressive facility. When there we spoke to one of their restoration team (and the owner Derek) and it turned out that they convert every car, with the exception of 100% original cars destined for the concourse circuit, to an alternator which they suggested I did too. Hence there was nothing available in stock and only suspect second hand ones were left – all of which needed to be refurbished.

We bumped into Marcus, Paul and the other couple that stopped to help us who all enquired how we had got on, but we had to confirm that we were dropping out. The tour of the showrooms over, we came home, had supper and watched the local Anglia news. It featured our car in the front row of the establishing shots for the 2 minute article and I thought that was good enough end to the escapade.

Overall the car ran very well (even when not charging) for the 190 miles and remembering it is a 52 year old car it maintains the performance and good looks that still sets the E-Type apart today.

Post Script:

On taking the final photograph I noticed that the mileage had just clicked over to 43,666.

More Pics at: Album

Having to ‘Wing it’ with the Caterham

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Lightening does strike twice

I was having to fix the car because while it was with Keith at the Seven Workshop undergoing its MOT, Service and a fix to the ‘A’ frame bolts, the car received a knock – inflicted on it by a driver that did not have the decency to admit his mistake and just drove off. The wing ended up with split gelcoat and cracks.

Having had the same problem with the Ginetta G4 about 10 years before (and never being happy with the repair) I discussed it with Keith and decided that the best option was to replace the whole wing rather than look to get it re-sprayed.

He arranged for a new wing to be sent to me (once Caterham Cars had one in stock) for me to check the colour match. The mid-1980’s is 30 years ago and that’s 30 years of sunlight and of fading and I was worried that the colour would be off.

However, I was very happy when it arrived as the colour was very close.

Start and preparation

SMy instructions were from the Haynes manual 1-0-1. Remove bolts to take off the wing, replacing the wing is the reversal.

I started by jacking up the car with the trolley jack under the suspension mount (with a rubber block on jack) and added two axel stands under the back axel to support it just in case.

Next I took the wheel off and noted there were 10 bolts – five each side to remove – and they didn’t look in bad condition although one was a bit rusty – I checked again 12345 up and 54321 down – yes 10 bolts and a couple of bits of electric cable to undo.

I gave everything a dose of WD-40 and let them soak for a bit while I got the rest of the tools out.

I’ve got lost in wiring before, so I both photographed and noted down the colours of the electrics in two batches (lights and indicator first and then the reversing light). The first batch of wires was: Red goes into Red; Black goes into Black – which separates into two wires; one Green wire goes into the Blue clip and that exists on the Green and Yellow wire; and finally the other Green wire goes into a bit of a mishmash and exits as a Green.

For the smaller set for the reversing lights two earth wires just terminate on the Earth screwed on the fitting bolt and the Yellow wire goes into the Blue connector that exits into two Green wires.

I disconnected them all with confidence.

The bolts, as suspected, were not the same size as you went round the wing and to get to the top 2 left hand side bolts I had to strip out the carpet from the inside the boot.

The wing came off quite easily after I took the bolts off until it was held on the top two. Most of the fittings seem to be intact (if a bit loose) although one bolt seat was a bit loose and the boot side had grown a large hole but it had big washers either side if it to grip it. I made a note to clean the area underneath the wing too.

Once off the car I put the wing on the bench and took off the rear lights and reversing light, which was removed from wing quite easily as the screws were not seized.

The next step was removing the 13 rivets holding the stone guard in place. I had to re-drill holes in the new wing for them too – I suspected that was going to be the most difficult thing – anyway 13 is lucky for some.

The job started to get harder immediately as the rivets didn’t really want to come out. I had to grind off the back, then drill out the front, then drill again from the back on some. The drill bit became stuck at one point too.

Once free of the wing most of the rivets were still in the stone guard so I then had to use pliers to cut the head off and squeeze them out of the holes.

Eventually they were all out and the stone guard was clear. I noticed it immediately straightened out a bit where I had been expecting it to remain curved. I had made a conscious decision to keep the old stone guard to make sure that the replacement wing on the car didn’t look new – and it saved a bit of work as I would have had to have changed both of them anyway to make them match.

It took about two and a half hours to get down to the component parts and then half an hour to take the rivets out of the stone guard. I stopped at that point and tidied the tools up ahead of part two.


Part 2 – Re-assembly

The next day I started to measure up the new wing against the car and immediately noticed that there was a large bolt in the way, which is the location bar for suspension. The old wing had a cut-out to go around it. I also noticed that the holes for the bolts in the new wing are not all in the same place as the holes in the old wing – which was going to be a problem. Finally the profile of the new wing seemed to be a slightly different curvature than the old wing.

Now there was no going back at this point so I just had to get on with it. Having drilled a number of holes in the wing (and expected more to be required) I thought the wing would fit.

Now, still working on the bench I thought I should fit the stone guard and lights. However the stone guard was very difficult to bend around the curvature of the wing which flexed on the bench. I drilled two holes but then sensibly thought it might be better to fit the wing and then continue to drill holes because the wing when attached to the car would be stable.

One hour later I’d only managed to put on the two extra bolts on the back curve of the wing by drilling two new holes. One bolt on the front set has pulled out of its fitting (as usual) but that’s not bad in the grand scheme of things.

I tried to undo the bold for the suspension but it would not release – it looked like the car weight was on it – so rather than dismantle the suspension I accepted that I also had to cut out a grove in the wing to get it fitted. That took less time than I had imagined so after a bit of effort the wing was back on.

To rivet on the stone guard back on I attached it with bolts to take the pressure and the first rivets I put in seemed to take, although they were a bit shallow. I decided to see how it went, but found that the fibreglass seemed thicker in places and therefore I needed deeper rivets. (These I ordered on-line that night.)

In the meantime I decided to re-assemble the rear lights etc. and consulted my photo and the notes I had made. Drilling into the new wing was a bit scary – and it seemed to make a lot of mess. I had remembered to put the wheel back on to level the car up and measured the other side a few time before drilling.

Having reassembled everything the lights worked but the indicators seem to be flashing on their own – from the front nearside and rear offside at the same time when I connect the wires. Also the reversing lights don’t seem to work and neither did the brake lights.

As it was getting close to 5 o’clock by this time I decided to pack up for the day and dig out the wiring diagram from the build manual.

About six hours had passed that day.

Part three: Re-doing the electrics and finishing the stone guard

Looking at the instructions from the build manual with the colours for the left side right side units for the break and indicator I tried to match them up and also cleaned the connections.

I connected the rear lights (red to red) and it seemed to work. Exploring the indicator fault it turned out that the three working indicators flashing incorrectly was due to the fact that the hazard light switch was pressed in. Not sure why or how that happened but I only spotted it as I took the cover off completely to see what was going on.

Now for the missing indicator. Striping a bit more wire it was obvious that it was corroded internally so it was not carrying much current – therefore just jamming in the fitting didn’t work anymore. So I extended both fittings for the indicators with new wire and soldered on terminals – but the indicators still failed to work. I checked the resistance and I checked the bulb and the bulb was blown so I replaced it. I found a new bulb courtesy of the old 1970s Prime Garages kit (maybe c1980) so I think it will last for a little while I’ll buy new one.

So all systems go: indicators, brake lights and rear lights all working as normal – I even made up a rubber grommet for the hole the wires go through. I could not remember if I’d ever seen the reversing lights work – so I don’t know if they ever did function correctly.

I gave up on the reversing lights and as everything else seems to work – the bulbs are okay but neither were coming on so it lead me to believe it could be the reversing light switch on the gearbox so I’ll leave that for another day.

Now to fully attach the stone guard – the first hole fixing using the 10 mm rivet seems to work fine tough to get on but it hold nicely.

However some 10 mm rivets still would not bite, especially as the fiberglass seems to be a little thicker – however using stainless steel button head screws (which are virtually indistinguishable so you can’t tell them apart) I decided to put a few of those in. In retrospect I wish I’d used those everywhere – it would’ve been more secure – but let’s see what happens when it’s on the road.

So time to finish off – all I needed to do was to glue the carpets back on the boot and tidy up the tools etc. I finished and had tidied away everything by about 12:00 therefore the morning was 3.5 more hours.

The Result

Looking at the two wings again, this time with the new one attached convinced me that I’d taken the right decision.
Not convinced enough to do the other rear wing, but it matches and using the old stone guard makes it blend in.

I’d spent just shy of 10 hours doing it, which I thought was OK in the circumstances. I’d be able to do the next one quicker.

Ely Classic Car Rally

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The day started ominously dull and grey with drizzle dripping onto the drive as I went to pack the car before the journey up to meet everyone at the show. This is the second time the Cambridge & District Classic Car Club (CDCCC) have organised an event in this magical setting – on the Palace Green outside Ely Cathedral. The event raises money for Memory Lane Singing Café – a Dementia support group in St Ives so we in the East Anglian SAOC were very happy to go along and support it.

Firing the car up and backing out of the garaged I noticed the bonnet ‘pop’ open. I assumed I’d not closed it after checking the oil and water the previous evening, but try as I might (eventually bumping and slamming down) it would not stay closed. However as you know the blessing is that the bonnet hinges from the front so I was ok to drive up to the show.

It is about 60 miles from my house to Ely which is in the heart of the Cambridgeshire Fens. Sometimes called the ‘Isle of Ely’ it is the tallest point in the Fens – although at 85 feet (26 m) ‘tallest’ is relative. The current cathedral dates from the 11th century and is in the oldest part of the city, so with the prospect of busy Saturday traffic clogging the lanes I elected to hit the A14 for much of the way as I did not want to be late. Although the grey clouds continue to haunt me on the run, as I neared the Green most of them went away and the sun broke though. Thanks to David Hunns (an enthusiastic fellow Alpine owner, member of the CDCCC and Organiser) we had star billing in the front of the green, actually in the shadow of the tower itself.

I parked up (re-closed the bonnet as best I could) and after a few minutes most of the other Alpines arrived and the public began to wander around the cars. We had a group of five Alpines and my Series 1 quickly had lots of admiring looks and even some children pointing at the wheels, which was odd, but as I chatted away I spotted that unfortunately the attention was due to the flat rear tyre and not my newly polished three pointed spinners.

For the next 10 minutes I provided some ‘live theatre’ for the public milling around the cars as many just stood and watched me change the wheel. I’d only had the correct three pointed spinners for two weeks but had made a wooden tool to protect them and it worked well. Since I took the car to Duxford in April, I’ve fixed the wheel bearing, replaced the brake light pressure switch and re-done the boot lining (it had none at all in fact) and luckily I’d checked the pressure on the spare wheel before I put it back. Job completed I had a wonder around the cars at the show.

Immediately next to me was a 1964 Triumph Vitesse. I thought it was interesting that that it and my car were built quite closely (Canley and Ryton six miles apart in Coventry) but remembered that as a Series 1 my car was built by Armstrong Siddeley at their Parkside plant – co-incidentally also about six miles from Ryton. (Although I was born in Coventry, not having lived there for many years please forgive me if my geography is a bit hazy – but you get the point.) Anyway on that theme, in turn the Triumph was flanked by a slightly younger MGB GT (probably made 60 miles away at Abingdon) and skipping over a couple of interlopers was joined by an Aston Martin DB9 (Gaydon – 26 miles) another MGB GT and a magnificent Humber Super-Snipe (back to Ryton).

So it turned out that most of the front row were made within a few miles of each other – and with the exception of Aston Martin – are sadly no more.

There were just over 50 cars at the show and the event was a huge success, raising money charity, and filling the green to entertain the public. An Armstrong Siddeley Hurricane was the Committee’s choice, but my favourite car was a tie between the Humber Super-Snipe and a very nice 1933 Austin Seven Box Saloon