Wartburg 353 Tourist
Ed tackles some concealed decrepitude before winter
Water leaks into car interiors are a pet hate. I removed and resealed the windscreen and tailgate glass from my ‘winter’ Wartburg a few years back. Last spring, water started to emerge from under the upholstery at the base of both the A- and B-pillars. I smelled a rat and broke into the tatty headlining – which was wet through. Further poking around revealed two of the sliding sunroof’s rubber drain tubes had split and one of the metal downspouts was swollen with rust.
I lashed this up by keyhole surgery – but I recently removed the headlining entirely to assess the scale of the decrepitude. I removed the whole interior, actually, expecting wet and rusty debris to rain down. This didn’t materialise: the whole thing was much better than expected, which is unusual.
The decayed rubber drain tubes were easily replaced with clear polythene passed down the A- and D-pillars. I heated the ends in boiling water and stretched them over the steel pipes.
The one crusty steel pipe was trimmed back, cleaned up, painted and waxed. A lack of paint on a partly-hidden bit of the perimeter drain channel explained why the drain holes occasionally filled up with rusty flakes – this was also cleaned up, painted and waxed.
I’ll leave the headlining out for a while to keep a beady eye on things, but it seems to drain correctly again. One thing I didn’t appreciate is that the perimeter channels are of course, opentopped – so enthusiastic use of a water hose around the closed sunroof can cause them to overflow slightly. This may explain why the vinyl headlining isn’t of the perforated type… keeps the passengers dry!
Any other business
While the interior was out, I looked for anything that might need welding. The centre seatbelt mountings appeared to be seeking a divorce from the floor. They’re fastened to a wide channel section spot-welded to the flat rear footwell. Salty water had got between the floor and the
channel. Twenty years ago, I welded the remains of the floor directly to the channel, but the fractiousness had restarted and the floor in front of and behind the channel was now on its way out. It looked fairly innocuous from under the car. From inside, it was positively sinister. I cut a large-ish rectangle out of the floor and seam welded a patch, trying to minimise distortion as much as possible. Miraculously I found a channel section of almost exactly the same size and thickness as the old one, to which I transferred the threaded plate. More welding, and lashings of seam sealer later, I was satisfied with its strength and confident that the rest of the car will have collapsed long before it needs a repeat visit.
You’ve been framed
The rear side windows were next on the list. I loosened the seals and brushed WD40 around the tops and sides, following which the glass and seal popped out fairly compliantly. As usual, the modest and non-threatening amount of rust that was initially visible turned out to be the tip of a burgeoning iceberg. The frame wasn’t too bad – there just wasn’t much connecting it to the rest of the bodywork anymore.
It was while I was flush-welding replacement metal into this that a visiting friend noted there was a lot less swearing than usual. Indeed: the welding was going far better than normal. A stable and consistent arc, no popping and banging and, crucially, a reliable start-up each time I pressed the trigger. I pondered this overnight. Some time ago I changed the extension lead that carries the power from the sole electrical outlet at the dark, damp end of the barn to the lighter, drier work area at the other. The new cable seemed more heavy-duty. It was obviously better at supporting the high inductive load of the welder starting up.
Since things were going so splendidly,
I patched a jacking point then moved on to the sill. After all the repairs had been painted,
I wire-brushed a few flaky bits of the horseshoe chassis and wax-sprayed the whole underside. I vacuumed out the debris from the interior then replaced the underlay, carpets and seats.
The handy thing about the Wartburg’s tax-free status is that it always gets occasional use throughout the year, so I was quite confident that there were no other nasty surprises lurking before it began sharing duties with the winter Lada at the start of November. Next job: a new headlining. Stay tuned!