READER RESTO
THIS FATHER AND SON ENDED UP GOING VERY DEEP DOWN THE RESTORATION RABBIT-HOLE ON A STUNNING PAIR OF COMMODORES
FATHER & SON TACKLE VL PAIR
It all started back in 2004 when I changed jobs, I’d been at a business for 20 years and been lucky enough to have a company car for the whole time, I had taken up a short-term contract for a couple of months before going onto another permanent position with a car. needed some wheels but didn’t want to get stuck with something so I struck a deal with my oldest boy, John, who was 15 at the time and getting close to a licence. “What do you want?” I asked, and his response was a white or red Holden VL Calais.
We found a reasonable roadworthy red one within a week and at the end of the contract John bought it off me. He’s still got it and in the process of undoing all the modifications he’s done over the years, putting it back to almost standard with a turbocharger.
I’ve always had some sort of old car, with Holden HRs being the dominant model: sedans, wagons and even a Premier wagon or a station sedan to use the correct terminology.
In 2005 I had a little Morris Mini and the HR Holden Premier wagon. Two different buyers, in quick succession knocked on the
“THE V8 VERSION WOULD SUIT, AN OLD BLOKE LIKE ME”
door and made offers I couldn’t refuse and the collectible garage was empty. I will say I didn’t miss them that much as they had slippery vinyl seats, extremely inefficient heaters, ventilation and brakes. On hot days you could fry an egg on the seats – even in Tasmania!
It was decided to dip the toe in the classic car pool again and I had fond memories of my son’s ’86 VL Calais. Reasonably comfortable leather seats with a lumbar support, air conditioning, cruise control and electric windows, with the only drawback being fuel injection with which I wasn’t all that familiar.
After a bit of research, it struck me that the V8 version would suit an old bloke like me much better, with a Rochester carburettor to tinker with and a tried and tested old Trimatic gearbox. Both were technologies as old as me – almost!
So, I cast the net wide looking for a V8 and, after a couple of false starts, I found one in Sydney, matching numbers, all the bits still there, a runner and classy velour seats for extra comfort.
I got my mechanically savvy Sydney-based brother to have a look at it. His verdict was that it was tired but still drivable and, as I was going to restore it anyway, there weren’t any terminal issues.
After a week or so the deal was done and my brother picked it up and put it on a transporter for me to export to Tasmania. He did remark that there was a distinct smell of burnt rubber in the car when he completed the transaction.
On arrival in Tasmania it was obvious the young bloke I bought it off had quite a few farewell cruises with handfuls of rubber jammed up behind the back guards and a motor ready to explode in a big way, cam lobes worn off completely, broken valve springs and retainers as well as a dent in the sump that was playing a tune with the crankshaft.
Luckily, we had rescued the motor in time and the rest of the drive train had survived the abuse in good nick.
As the most-stolen car model in
Australia, the VL Commodore had the standard crowbar-damaged glovebox and dash pad as well, as a ripped-out driver’s door lock.
After finding the original factory build sheets (broadcast document) under the carpet we decided to restore it to the condition it left the factory, without the rust, with all the accessories listed on the build sheet.
This was in early 2006 and after inspecting the bodywork I decided to concentrate on restoring the components that my son John and I could undertake ourselves. We spent the next two years doing an interior, mechanical and underbody restoration using the build sheets as a template.
The bodywork was a real mess with a big hit to the passenger B pillar, an equally big hit on the driver’s guard leaving the bonnet gap out of square, plus a bent chassis rail as well as stress cracks around the Panhard rod mountings caused by too many burnouts. The usual Commodore rust around both windscreens and in the quarter panels resulted in the decision to leave it festering under plastic trim while cruising and enjoying the partial restoration.
Fast forward 10 years and retirement was declared so I decided to ‘invest’ in getting the bodywork done by an old-school panel beater who would get rid of all the filler, rust and paint as well as straighten all the metal damage.
After receiving an estimate and delivery schedule of six to eight weeks from the panel beater that gave me the confidence to proceed, he commenced the project.
After taking 14 months and costing three times more than originally discussed, the stripped to bare metal, straightened and prepped shell was delivered to the paint shop. After agreeing to an estimate, the car was painted in two pack very close to the original acrylic Eucumbene Blue colour. This also cost me three times more than the estimate.
The problem with restoring cars is you can’t just slap it back together when you find a problem, you have to keep fixing and finding till the estimate becomes a piece of fiction and you