Reach for the gun
Eleven years of owning an E-type can make a man take for granted the ease with which most parts are available, to the point where a gap in immediately available stock or shortfall in build quality can prompt outrage against the suppliers. I’ve seen it on the forums. I’m more philosophical – even if some parts are not up to original standards, at least something is available. Try sourcing rebuild parts for a 12-year-old mountain bike – it’s a mixed picture.
So I shouldn’t be too disappointed that the reproduction rear hatch seal has cracked up before an original would have – at least it’s kept the boot dry for 11 years. The replacement has sat on a shelf for months waiting for me to find the inspiration to fit it. Every time I opened the hatch, the cracked rubber begged to be replaced, but shutting it again restored status to out-of-sight, out-of-mind. And truth be told, I was nervous that removing the old seal might pull the paint that it’s glued to, making a simple two-hour job an all-weekender.
With greater freedoms of movement looming, I decided it would be daft to delay any longer and potentially end up disabling the car when I could be driving it. The new seal comes in two parts, joined top and bottom of the hatch aperture. I noticed that the old seal had been carefully cut to clear the drain hole at the bottom that feeds a tube releasing water behind the number plate – so that’s why the plate stands off the rear panel a little.
Now for the part of the job I was dreading. I hoped that using a heat gun to warm the seal would soften the adhesive enough to release it rather than pull away the paint. The trick, I suspected, was to let the gun nozzle play over the seal and nearby bodywork just long enough to make the glue more stretchy, but not for so long that I damaged the paint. And I hoped that gently pulling the seal away in the direction that it was fitted would minimise the upward force on the paint.
It was a tense few minutes, and it almost worked, but a couple of short sections peeled up with what little glue remained stuck to the seal. My philosophical mood evaporated as I contemplated hours rubbing at the old glue with white spirit and the prospect of fiddly paint repairs.