The rose-tinted spectacles are removed as we formulate a work plan for our 1976 Leyland Mini Clubman automatic.

Last issue we explained how and why we ended up buying this low-mileage 1976 Mini Clubman automatic. This issue, we give it a close examination to see just what work needs to be done.

This Clubman was bought on the strength of some photographs and a lengthy chat with the previous owner. Collection from Bury St Edmunds went smoothly enough, though a dead battery just as we were setting off did add a frisson of tension to the 85-mile journey home – this is an automatic remember, so bump starting is not an option. Happily though, I made it home without any drama, and thoroughly enjoyed getting reacquainted with Mini life along the way.

If I am honest, I’m not really very good at buying cars. The problem is that I find it difficult to stay detached and objective – if I like a car, I figure that any problems can be fixed and go ahead and buy it. However, this has left me with a big dilemma on the Clubman. The major appeal of this particular Mini is that it is so original and has not been messed around with in any meaningful way. I guess that is partly because of the automatic gearbox which is hardly likely to attract boy racers, but while Minis can rot with the best of them, this one has survived remarkably well thanks to some two decades of storage while most of its brethren were rusting away.

However, it is far from perfect and the paint is always going to be my biggest issue, both in terms of the cost if I have it resprayed and the question of balancing how far I go to protect it while also preserving some kind of patina. I suspect there will be no easy answer to this conundrum. For example, there is a small area at the front of the bonnet that has been repainted and doesn’t blend in, plus some minor damage across the panel that may be brake fluid related and won’t polish out. Also, the paint in the roof gutters has deteriorated and the metal there clearly needs protecting, but to do that neatly would mean painting the whole roof. Which would then look too shiny for the rest of the car, because the bootlid and the surrounding panel are badly micro-blistered, as is the NSF wing (which is mismatched in colour too – in fact few panels seem to be identical shades!). Add to this a number of other small blemishes and I suspect the choice will end up being between a full exterior respray and simply accepting the blemishes. Personally I am inclined to accept it as it is. After all, I’m not interested in entering it for concours, and to get it to that standard would require a disproportionate amount of work. Would a subsequent owner really want to pay that premium for an automatic Clubman? Possibly, but it is a gamble. And besides, I don’t want a car that is too perfect to use, just one that I can be

proud of, and the Clubman already fits that particular bill.

However, there are a couple of areas that will definitely require new paint, and this may well tip the balance in favour of a full respray. Structurally this car is very unusual in that it gets better the more you dig, but the A-panel on the driver’s side does look a little sad. This is the panel that goes between the door and the front wing, and it is a favourite rot spot on Minis. I had assumed from this one’s appearance that it would need replacing, but a little delicate prodding suggested that the metal may be sound enough to repair. You can get your hand behind this section, and it certainly feels solid from the back. It also looks sound where it joins the end of the sill, with a little surface rust but largely caught before it has got a proper hold. I’m not holding my breath though and with panels being so cheap we may well end up changing this one, but we will investigate more closely before deciding on the least invasive way forwards.

The other likely area to require fresh paint is at the back of the car, which I will get onto in due course. But staying for now at the sharp end of the Clubman, I have a dilemma under the bonnet where the bulkhead below the master cylinders has been stripped of paint and is now covered in surface rust. It looked initially as though I would need to remove the engine to strip this area back and repaint it, but closer inspection suggested that it was rather more localised. After taking off the bulkhead insulation mat I now think that I can remove the air cleaner and carburettor for better access, followed by all components on the bulkhead before cleaning and painting the area.

My problem then will be in deciding how far to go, because if I paint this shelf, it will stand out like a sore thumb against the rest of the engine bay. But do I really want to remove the whole engine and gearbox to paint the lot? I don’t have the cash reserves to sink way more into the Clubman than it will ultimately be worth (remember that it cost a not inconsiderable £4500 in the first place), but equally I want to do justice to such a lovely car. It is interesting that this sort of dilemma has arisen on the Clubman, as it clearly shows problems that we create when cars are treated as classic toys rather than simply a means of transport and originality rears its ugly head. I wonder if

Rob is having similar concerns on the more modern BMW MINI One project?

Meanwhile, I picked out a few more minor jobs I could get on with first. These include front and rear screen rubber inserts that are badly discoloured; I don’t think that replacing these would be a major faux pas as far as originality goes. I also checked the fluid levels. The procedure for checking the combined engine and gearbox oil on a car with the AP2 automatic box is to run it for 1-2 minutes, let it sit for one minute and then check the dipstick. This one’s oil looks fresh and the level is halfway between MAX and MIN, though I don’t know the grade or the quality. This is a subject we may return to in a later instalment.

The coolant looked a rusty red, and using my testing tool suggested it did not contain sufficient antifreeze, so I will flush and replace that. The coolant hoses themselves

look surprisingly good, not aged and soft to the touch. The fuel hoses look new as well, and it was reassuring to see Goodyear branding on them. Unfortunately, deciphering all the letters and numbers that are also printed on the fuel hoses suggests they are not designed for use with ethanol fuels, so I may have to change them.

While digging around in the engine bay, I noticed that the rubber on the wiper motor clamp has vulcanised. Replacing it will be cheap and easy enough, but do I also go with a new clamp, or will that look wrong by being too shiny against the weathered motor body? I’ve got similar concerns about how far to go in the boot, where paint has been scratched off the damper tops and original seam sealant has left the paint on top looking unsightly. The battery clamp is less contentious though – blocks of wood to hold the battery in the box are really not sufficient. I want to test the battery anyway, and will get new clamps for whatever size unit I end up with.

Moving into the cabin, one of the joys of this car is its originality. There are a couple of switches that look like aftermarket items, but the Heated Rear Window switch down by the driver’s right knee is actually a factory fitment – I know this, because I bought a handbook from 1976 to check! That does leave a mystery switch in centre of dash, though. Tracing one wire forwards led me to the ignition- controlled fuse in the engine bay, while the other led me backwards to the rear bumper. Here it was rather crudely wrapped around the rear subframe instead of being held neatly by a simple cable tie. From there it split to feed reversing lights that had been fitted to the rear valence. I wonder if these were a dealer fitment? However, that rear valence looked decidedly misshapen – I suspect that this Mini might have seen some rearend action, and that valence may well need replacing and so add to the repaint list.

Other minor issues include boot stay cables with peeling plastic covers, wiper blades that are pretty useless, and a passenger door catch that can be a little sticky when operated from inside the car. Also, the inhibitor switch in the gearbox requires you to wiggle the gearstick even when it is in neutral before it will give permission for the engine to start. This was a new switch the previous owner had fitted, so should only need adjusting. That will be my first job next issue.

ABOVE: Obviously a minor ding on the bonnet has been repaired, but the colour match is poor. CIRCLED: The only serious rust we can find that may have holed a panel is here, on the offside A- panel. Note the badly kinked flange cover too.

With the bulkhead mat removed, the extent of the surface rust can be seen. That green wire is for the reversing light switch, but why not trim it to length?

It is hard to capture in pictures, but the bootlid and rear panel are microblistered, as is the NSF wing.

The inner arches in the boot are solid, but not the prettiest of finishes.

Battery is suspect, and has blocks of wood instead of clamps to secure it.

Wiper motor clamp can be replaced, but may then look too new and shiny.

Coolant has been changed recently, but looks in need of changing again.

The reversing lights are set into the rear valence, which itself is misshapen and covered in underseal. That exhaust is new, but could do with repositioning.

ABOVE: Believe it or not, that Heated Rear Window switch below the dash is a factory fitment. CIRCLED AND TOP LEFT: What looks like a hazard light switch has in fact been wired in to a pair of reversing lights, but not very elegantly.