Our Classics
Volvo 121 ‘Amazon’
’The rotten floor – mostly the FT circa. 1981-86 – was chopped out’
Maladies first, introductions later: my Volvo ‘Amazon’ is coming into view (and failing to stop because of sticking brake calipers). It’s been in my care for over a decade but has been in virtual exile for the past five years because of a persistent running fault that no-one has been able to diagnose. Given that said running fault causes the car to cut out at junctions – and it has no hazard flasher lights – I’ve been loath to take it anywhere, despite it getting the all-clear from the allimportant man at the Ministry.
I took the liberty of declaring the car as a Vehicle of Historic Interest ( VHI) shortly after 20 May; I know the Volvo’s foibles backwards and my heel-and-toe technique is sufficiently robust to prevent any failures to proceed at traffic lights.
KYO 5D has had far bigger issues than its current state of tune, you understand. It was a borderline basket-case that shouldn’t have had a test certificate when I became its fourth owner in 2005 – a wheeled example of the sort of nightmarish death trap that enthusiasts fear will soon be dragged out of various barns and hedgerows (and then onto the roads).
After baffling the motorists of Sheffield with hand signals (following complete failure of the electrical system) during a visit to a friend at university, the car began to decline further; it never stopped running, but the engine breathed heavily and almost every panel was riddled with rust. A partial restoration at Hunter Classics followed from the A-pillar back, requiring good secondhand panels; I reckon there are at least three or four Amazons in my car now.
Several more years passed, during which time the rotten floorpans (made mostly of the Financial Times, circa. 1981-86) were chopped out and replaced. A respray and stainless steel bumpers freshened KYO up, along with a bottom-end rebuild.
It was all downhill after that. Having broken the seal, the original carburettor began to play up; an ultrasonic clean distorted its body and running problems became legion. The Volvo spent less and less time on the road, as returning home became an increasingly hit and miss affair. Instead of enjoying it for what it was, ownership was now a full-time act of denial.
Eventually, a new Weber carburettor went on, but the problems persisted, defying several specialists. Then my friend Alex Singleton had a go at persuading it to run. Gapping and cleaning the plugs suggested an overly rich mixture – and the A55 was our test ground.
An afternoon of testing, swearing and adjustment saw KYO running better than it has in years. With the brakes fixed, I can pick up where I left off with it nearly five years ago, but there’s still a lot left to sort out.
When new, my Amazon came fitted with a Golde sliding steel sunroof; unlike other 120-series cars, which had full-length Webastos added by dealers, Golde cartridges were fitted on a special line at Torslanda. Keeping the roof working (and sealing) has been something of a challenge – further complicated when the second restorer took the roof apart to spray it, broke a key part of the mechanism and then looked the other way when it flew off down an A-road.
Its interior is grubby and careworn, too. The original heavy rubber matting fell to pieces years ago, but (unbelted) rear seat passengers still have to rest their feet on the bare footwell pans because replacements are expensive. All the switches work, but the dash top (lifted from a 123GT) is an unfinished mess; I had planned to fit a clock from an earlier car, too, but never finished the job.
Apart from a few rattles and chatters (which are to be expected), KYO drives pretty well, making the most of its meagre 75bhp and offering surprisingly decent handling thanks to a set of GAZ GT gas-filled dampers and progressive lowering springs from Amazon Cars.
It doesn’t bother me that it will never be finished (or concours) – I just want a car that’s safe and solid enough for me to enjoy – and I’ve very nearly got one again.