Mallett’s mental meanderings
DELWYN MALLET SIGNS OFF FROM HIS REGULAR RAMBLINGS – SORRY, COLUMN – WITH A WRY LOOK AT LIFE NOW HIS BELOVED STREAMLINER PROJECT IS FINALLY HOME
My baby’s back! My split-screen 356 ‘Streamliner’, which has popped up intermittently in these pages over the years, and now features on the cover of this very issue, was due back home the week the virusenforced lockdown started. The shutdown meant that didn't happen, of course, but the car’s finally made it back home to my garage. Incredibly, it has been more than five years since I last drove UXY 70 properly. I had a very brief first and second gear crawl at last-year’s Porsche Club ‘KG’ meeting at Goodwood before the car was trailered back to Steve Kerti’s restoration shop in Dunkeswell, Devon, for a final bit of fettling. And that’s it. Due to an unfortunate accident it had spent that time at Classic Fabrications being repaired and enhanced – you can read the full story in gory detail in this issue, starting on page 30. The car even managed to win its category in an on-line concours – and that was before I’d even driven it!
It feels shameful to admit that, as a retired gent and able to enjoy a substantial garden, I found the lockdown rather pleasurable. As I commented in the last issue, the absence of aircraft and road noise, coupled with glorious weather, created a relaxing ‘back to nature’ ambiance in my little corner of this Sceptred Isle. Having said that my sympathy goes out to those who were trapped in inner city high-rise apartments and those whose income plummeted (my self employed photographer daughter amongst them whose income crashed to zero due to non-eligibility to government support).
Strangely I didn’t miss using my old motors – perhaps because when they aren’t in use they can’t break down, fail to start when hot (and quite often when cold), wear parts out and all the other irritants that accompany trying to keep my 50-, 60- and 80-year old cars mobile.
I did, however, suffer withdrawal symptoms as dates entered in my diary for Goodwood, Prescott and the Hot Rod event on Pendine Sands were gradually cancelled, despite the optimism on the part of the organisers.
For those who’ve followed the progress of UXY 70, you may recall that I was not expecting the Judson supercharger to add much in the way of performance – I have to admit that my motive was inclined towards ‘show before go’. It certainly looks the business but, at the moment, the ‘go’ is somewhat lacking. I always suspected that replacing two carburetors by one and a supercharger not renowned for its efficiency might end up at best only equal in output to the unmodified 1300cc engine. However, during the photo shoot, with me pushing the accelerator pedal and editor Seume at the carburetor end we established that the throttle is not fully opening. Some adjustment of the linkage, much modified from standard to accommodate the repositioning of the carb, is clearly in order. So performance may yet improve. Mind you, teething problems are only to be expected when stepping into the unknown.
Having referred earlier to the fact that one of the benefits of the lockdown was that we didn’t have to worry about breakdowns, once back on the highway it didn’t take long for the Streamliner to let me down. On only its first journey of any significance, a mere twentymiles, it cut dead. I was off to rendezvous with a couple of motoring chums and the engine stopped just a quarter of a mile from my destination. Thanks to mobile communication I was, within minutes, on the end of a towrope.
Displaying no inclination to start – even with a tow – the first port of call was the distributor. Much to my amazement and that of my friends
(with an accumulated 100plus-years of mucking about with old motors between us) we experienced a first. The end had completely broken off the rotor arm. Fortunately without the bits descending too far into the distributor.
I scrounged a swift lift home to scavenge a rotor from my Speedster and assumed that all would be sorted. It was not to be. Much churning, but no starting. Another peek in the dizzy failed to find a spark. All wires connected. No more ideas. Phone for AA. Due to pressing commitments my friends had to abandon me to my fate. My new best friend, AA man Steve, arrived exactly on the dot of the one-hour interval predicted. (How do they do that? Was he waiting around the corner for the minute to tick over?)
‘No spark,’ said I. ‘Let's take a look,’ said he. Of course there was a spark for him! Not much of one but he cleaned the points with a piece of cardboard and Hey Presto! It ran! I could have done that. I arrived home without further mishap, well, sort of. I experienced another first. When I got out of the car, I found my right trouser leg covered in oil. It would appear oil is finding its way up the rev counter cable… But, most importantly, the car is home after its lengthy sojourn.
Sadly all good things have to come to end and this is my last column for Classic Porsche. I hope that at least a few of you will have derived some pleasure from my rambles over the last decade and when normal service resumes there will be opportunities to meet in the real world. Signing off. Adios. Keep the faith!
“ALL GOOD THINGS HAVE TO COME TO AN END…”