DELWYN MALLETT
Mallett’s mental meanderings
Reading Robert Barrie’s piece on the ‘British’ 904s in the last issue of Classic Porsche brought back memories of the ‘one that got away’ – the Martin Hone, Opposite Lock Club car that I nearly bought in the early ’70s. Well, I have to confess that ‘nearly’ as an adjective is well wide of the actuality. Desperate though I was to own a Porsche 904 I couldn’t persuade my relatively new wife that chopping in my BMW (the only way that I could afford it) and using a 904 as an everyday car was a sensible option! She was, of course, right.
Carol had already endured several drafty winters in my everyday driver Speedster and we had only recently graduated to a nice warm BMW 2002 saloon, so she was in no mood to give up its comfort. I’d spotted the 904 for sale in an ad at the back of the American Road & Track magazine and was surprised to see that the car was actually for sale in Birmingham – England, not Alabama.
My R & T was already a month out of date when I got it but I thought a phone call was worth a go. Still for sale, I was told that it could be mine for ‘1500 quid – complete with a trailer and a spare set of wheels and tyres.’ Quite a few sleepless nights were spent trying to work out how I could raise the cash and keep the Beeem but the maths simply didn’t compute. As Robert said in his piece, the 904 went Stateside. And I sulked.
Around the same time I also optimistically posted a note on a 904 parked in London’s Brompton Road enquiring if for sale please contact, etc. It was white if I remember correctly. There was no response so I didn’t have to torture myself again.
The ex-dickie Stoop car returned to the UK after a prolonged circumnavigation of the globe and I see that it has been reunited with its original YOU 4 registration, which has to be a stroke of good luck. I’m currently embroiled in a struggle with the DVLA over the registration number on my RHD Speedster, which I have owned continuously for over 50-years.
In early December an e-mail pinged into my inbox from a friend drawing attention to an impending change affecting registration numbers held on ‘retention’. Although I did not have any retained numbers it prompted me to check on a few of my ‘grounded’ classics, several of which had not received the current red V5c documents. The DVLA site confirmed that all but one was on the database – which was reassuring – but ominously and worryingly my most cherished car resulted in a ‘Vehicle details could not be found’ message when I checked.
Fearing that my 99 ELB might be somehow sucked up in the DVLA’S Hoovering job, I was soon on the blower to Swansea. Before getting too deep into the ensuing saga I must stress that all three of the individuals that I spoke too were extremely courteous, patient and helpful. Helpful, that is, within the constraints of a bureaucracy that suppresses common sense and compromise when confronted with the obvious.
Having explained that I have a number of cars and a couple of motorbikes that had somehow evaded the issue of current V5cs – including one that although legally mine somehow didn’t have my name on the document – it proved all relatively straightforward. I left 99 ELB until last. This required being put on hold while my contact consulted ‘a colleague’.
Explaining that I had owned the car continuously for over half-a-century and that I had no idea how or why or when it had dropped off the database, I was told to send in the out of date V5 and a cheque for £25.00. This I duly did and sat back and waited. The New Year’s post arrived with a cascade of brown envelopes, each with a new V5c – but one for 99 ELB was conspicuous by its absence.
A few days later a lonely brown envelope arrived. Aha! thought I. A new V5c. Inside I found my cheque but nothing else. No covering letter and no registration document. Back on the phone to yet another DVLA clerk, I felt myself being sucked into a sort of Kafka-esque vortex of red tape.
‘Have you got the original bill of sale?’ No. I bought it 50-years ago. ‘Have you get any other documentation?’ Like what? ‘An old V5’. No – you’ve got it and didn’t return it! ‘Oh.’
Eventually, my side of the debate foundered on the rocky shore of bureaucratic inflexibility. The outcome was that I have to fill in a V765 form and a V55/5, get verification from the Porsche Club that my car is what I’m claiming it to be and ignore the apparent contradictions between forms. Curiously there’s no mention of the £25.00 fee I was originally told to send!
The ultimate tribulation is that the application forms have to be sent to the K & R Team – Kit cars and Replicas, for heaven’s sake! This for my totally original and extremely rare RHD Speedster! I’ve even considered sending my special edition Corgi model of the car complete with its 99 ELB number plate as a bribe but that might complicate matters more as Corgi inexplicably describe it as a 356B on the box.
“KAFKA-ESQUE VORTEX OF RED TAPE…”