Our Cars

Rob Marshall’s Volvo 460 and Andrew Everett’s BMW 323i.

Due to my aged Volvo 460 saloon being a fairly unloved model, it has become virtually unique and, somewhat perversely, a little bit special. While it was tempting to carry out the bare minimum of repairs and run the car into the ground, I decided to plough more time, effort and money into it, while avoiding embarking on a long and costly restoration.

Not starting well

Despite the previous owner replacing the alternator, the battery light continued to glow with the engine running. Subsequent diagnosis revealed a 15.9-volt charging rate. While I suspected that a broken negative battery terminal was responsible for the alternator’s demise, I made the mistake of snap-diagnosing the fault and wasted £12 on a replacement regulator. After removing the alternator and swapping regulators, the fault remained, indicating that the diode pack might be the actual cause. I never found out – I took the easy option and found a reconditioned alternator online at a bargain price of £30. The problem disappeared.

Meanwhile, a coolant leak was traced to the radiator. A clearance Magnetti Marelli BM663 radiator was sourced and fitted, after swapping over the cooling fan switch. I changed the thermostat and water pump as well, considering that both parts were 1990 originals. The misfiring engine was due to oil filling the spark plug apertures, seeping through a deteriorated rocker cover gasket and a weeping nearside camshaft oil seal.

Problem parts

While the oil leaks may have been caused by rubber seals hardening, a blocked positive crankcase ventilation (PCV) valve might have been responsible – it was just unfortunate that the old part’s brittle plastic disintegrated as I attempted to remove it. This was seriously bad news. Not only are new replacements impossible to find, but also secondhand ones are unlikely to last long, which is why I declined a Volvo 480 enthusiast’s offer of a used PCV for £60.

The PCV has several roles in a turbocharged engine. When the inlet manifold is under vacuum, it must allow

crankcase fumes to pass into the inlet. Under turbo-boost conditions, a oneway valve has to close, otherwise the crankcase would become pressurised, and a calibrated quantity of gases must be diverted into the turbocharger inlet.

After examining the remnants of the original PCV and trying to find a substitute, I settled on a kit of parts intended for the Volkswagen Group’s 1.8T turbo petrol engines, which possess similar turbo boost levels to that of Volvo’s B18FTM. Unfortunately, neither Volvo nor VAG could provide detailed specifications, so I had to make a number of presumptions.

The VW PCV (part no 06A129101D) and one-way valve (part no 035103245A) connect together neatly with a T-piece (part no 06A103247), although they require a reduction hose (from 28mm to 23mm) so that the PCV can connect to the Volvo’s original metal oil separator that’s mounted to the crankcase. The plastic breather hose leading to the turbocharger, fits inside the rubber T-piece and is secured by a Jubilee clip. Happily, the kit is doing its job and is a useful conversion tip for Volvo 400 Turbo owners, as well as Renault 5s and Clios that have been upgraded with Volvo turbo running gear.

Gear oil was oozing past the nearside driveshaft gaiter bearing, as well as from the offside differential oil seal. While the driveshafts were off, I renewed the outer CV joints, because new quality Vaico replacements cost less than £50 per side. Unfortunately, the diameter of the outer CV joint thread was larger than the original and, although a replacement selflocking nut was provided, there was no thrust washer. Grinding out the original washers’ centres with a Dremel tool was the solution. While a new driveshaft gaiter and bearing was supplied for the nearside driveshaft by caarparts.co.uk, the offside shaft inner joint did not ‘feel’ quite right, when manipulated by hand. Sure enough, after removing the inner gaiter carefully (because it is now obsolete as a replacement part), I found that one of the inner tripod joint lobes had disintegrated.

Sourcing a new joint wasn’t easy. It’s the same as the one fitted to Mitsubishi’s Space Star, but main dealers wanted more than £200 for a replacement. Wider searching uncovered a source in Germany, costing a shade under £50.

Routine repairs

While the driveshafts were overhauled, I replaced the rusty wishbones. Costwise, this was worthwhile, because they included new bushes and bottom balljoints, which were worn on my car. Although replacing the front dampers remains on my ‘to-do’ list, the rear suspension was in appalling condition. The anti-roll bar’s bushes had corroded, its links had seized partially and the bump-stops had disintegrated. While the dampers weren’t leaking, they’d become so weak that they put up virtually no resistance to being compressed by hand. The springs seemed to be in good condition and were not replaced by the new pair that came with the car, because they were taller and had more coils. A quick call to SPAX revealed the likelihood that they were for the less powerful Volvo 400s with the softer, comfort-oriented suspension.

One handbrake cable had seized partially, so a new pair was fitted, prior to replacing the discs. The rear calipers were replaced by a set of Unipart-boxed reconditioned items. The rear brake hoses had perished slightly and were renewed. Finally, the front brakes received new pads and discs, prior to the system being flushed with fresh fluid.

While the bulk of the mechanical work is complete, I’ve yet to tackle the rusty body and fix a number of niggly faults for the car’s first MOT in five years.

While the radiator and intercooler were out, Rob rustproofed and painted the Volvo’s lower front panel.

Replacement VAG parts, consisting of a PCV, one-way valve and rubber T-piece, integrated tidily with the Renault-based turbocharged Volvo engine.

Pressure-washing the engine bay detached chunks of black paint from the aluminium inlet manifold. As the part had to be removed to replace the cam cover gasket, Rob resprayed it with high-temperature paint.

A look inside the old PCV reveals the orange one-way valve and the internal assembly that ensures a calibrated quantity of gases are fed into the turbocharger under boost conditions.

Rob fitted a new negative battery terminal, because he suspected an intermittent connection from the broken original had damaged the alternator.

After renewing the leaking camshaft oil seal (inset pic), the rotor arm, distributor cap, spark plugs and leads were all replaced.

The rear suspension was in particularly poor condition. On these Volvos, the rear bump stops are designed to restrict spring movement. The originals had fallen apart and they are no longer manufactured, but a lucky ebay find netted a new pair (inset pic).

Mercifully, the rear spring mounts were not holed. Loose flakes of corrosion were wirebrushed away, prior to receiving treatment with a rust-stabilising solution. Injecting the area with wax before the suspension spring seats were refitted should protect it.