:: Diary - April 2011 ::

:: Sunday, April 3, 2011 ::

An eventful day...

It's monthly TVR club meeting time, and I've arranged to meet Dave and Jim at 11. I've spent all week trying to predict the weather for today, so that I can decide whether to take the S or the Cerbera. When I get up though, I decide to take the Cerbers, so I move it out of the garage, and decide that the exhaust pipes look manky, so I give them a wee polish. (Remember this bit).

Then (fortunately) I decide to throw my jacket in the boot in case it does rain. Except the boot won't open. Press the new button I installed only a few weeks ago, and I am rewarded with nowt, zilch, nada, feck all. It's a good job I tried, because I need fuel, and I wouldn't have been able to get the boot open to reach the filler neck...

I open the boot using the emergency access method, which I'm not going to write on here, obviously (and nor am I going to reply to emails asking what it is, unless I know you personally, so don't even bother trying). Pull back the carpet, disconnect the switch and short out the wiring - and it works. Then I remove the switch and test it with my multimeter. It's fecked. Brand bloody new and it hasn't lasted a month.

I fabricate an emergency manual boot release bypass (in other words, a bit of string what you pull) and put everything back together again, and set of for the petrol station.

Finally fuelled up, I head over to Dave's, where we do a bit of examining of his S and his wedge, before setting off.

The meeting itself is great, as usual. William from Northern Ireland, who came over with his pal Mike for S CLub last year, turns up because he's here on holiday, so it's good to see him. Oh yes our monthly meetings are internationally renowned! The meeting goes well, right up to the point where somebody points out to Jim that one of his back tyres is against the back of the wheel arch. Before I can get outside, the diagnosis is confirmed "broken swing arm". Bugger. We manage to borrow a trolley jack and some rudimentary tools (including Jim's wheel brace which doesn't actually fit the wheel nuts on his car), and jack the car up and take the wheel off. Dave fabricates a "truss" from some webbing supplied by William (from Belfast), and tightens it up by winding a spanner into the webbing like a turnbuckle, while a couple of others lever the brake drum forward with a huge piece of angle iron, and then cable ties and tapes it all into place. Wheel back on, jack down, it's fine!

We decide to return home via the motorway, because it's smoother and Jim will have to do less braking and turning. He sets off first, with me following, then Dave then Mike. After a couple of miles we come acrtoss a Chimaera getting pushed on to the verge. I stop to offer help, but I need to follow Jim in case his car breaks, so I set off to catch him up.

Just after we get on to the motorway, there is a huge broken bridge joint, and the car dips into it with a loud clang, followed by a selection of various other noises that indicate something is broken. I am trying to follow Jim, but I need to stop and investigate. It's one of the exhaust back boxes, it has corroded through the joint and is bouncing on the road. Jim disappears over the horizon while I struggle to remove the rear section of the exhaust on one side (the other side from the one that was welded last June!)

As I am under the car, Mike passes, and of course, seeing my TVR in distress, immediately stops and offers assistance. No wait that's not right - what happens is he doesn't even lift off, but also fecks off over the horizon. I experience what Carl Jung would have described as "a spontaneous re-evaluation of the reciprocal values attached to human interactive and social relationships".

Bastard.

With the broken bit of exhaust in the boot, I set off again for Jim's house (I have Jim's passenger cousin with me - he came in very handy at removing bits of exhaust!) to make sure he got home safely. I also offer to help removing and replacing the trailing arm, if he needs help.

Then I drive the last 10 minutes to get my own car home, and arrange to get it along to the exhaust man who fixed the other side. I might get two whole centre sections made up - the manifolds are stainless, and so are the back boxes and tail pipes - there are two pipes about 2 foot long in the middle, that are mild steel. They are the weakest links.

One monthly meeting and the roads of central Scotland are strewn with broken TVRs.

I should have taken the S after all...

:: Monday, April 4, 2011 ::

I order a new boot button from the original manufacturers - price £5.02. The same button is for sale from a TVR specialist, price £15. It pays to shop around!

I've also arranged the exhaust repair, the man's going to let me know when he has some time to do it this week.

:: Wednesday, April 6, 2011 ::

The new boot button arrives in the post today, so I unsolder the wires I made up, from the old (3 bleeding weeks old!) button, and solder them to the new one. Then I use my multimeter to make sure that it works, before fitting it to the car, and refitting the badge. It works perfectly!

I've also finalised that the exhaust will be repaired on Friday, and he will also have a look at the middle section, so the he can order the bits to make two new sections for me later - then I'll have a stainless exhaust front to rear.

I was promised another article for Sprint (the car club magazine) and it hasn't emerged. I've written articles for 3 months in a row (or is it 4?) and the first time I rely on somebody else, it falls apart. Ah well, you can only take it so far...

:: Thursday, April 7, 2011 ::

There I am, minding my own business, driving in to Edinburgh, when coming up the slip road in front of me, I see Jim's van. A wee toot and a wave and I pass. It's the morning peak though, so I am just bumbling along, and he catches me up further into the city when he comes up a left turn lane while I am waiting to go straight ahead. "I've got the swing arm off" he says triumphantly, just before the signals change and he turns off.

Now while I am cheered by this news, I am a wee bit mystified by his use of the first person singular, in removing the swing arm. Jim has many fine qualities, but knowing one end of a spanner from the other isn't one of them. Must have been his cousin.

At lunch time Dave phones, to say he's going to inspect a new TVR S Series to our area, and asking if I want to go along. "OK" says I. I mention my chance encounter with Jim earlier, and it soon becomes clear exactly who performed the swing arm removal. My suspicions that Jim hasn't been granted 3 wishes by the garage genie are confirmed.

The TVR S isn't bad - it needs a bit of TLC though, just to tidy it up. Main problem is that the indicators aren't working and the wipers are intermittent. "Yellow connector" thinks I, but a quick inspection reveals that has already been replaced. Further fiddling reveals that the wiper spindle is loose and I think the mechanism is jamming slightly. The indicators don't work either, but I can't find the cause of that - somebody has removed the fuse box and put in a series of in-line fuse holders, unlabelled, so you can't tell what works what. We leave the poor man a wiring diagram so that he can try to work it out and label the fuses.

Nice car - a bit of fettling and some polishing (and a scrape and repaint of the chassis) and it'll be fine!

:: Friday, April 8, 2011 ::

The Cerbera's exhaust is repaired! It's running like a wee sweetie again. He's going to order in some bits to make up two replacement pipes though.

On the way back, I am driving through the town next to mine, and 2 cars ahead of me is a Porsche cabriolet. It's a recent 911 but I can't tell the difference between Porsche model numbers, except the ones that had fried-egg headlights. The car is fairly new though, and gleaming in the sun. The driver has the typical spiky hair and the wrap-round shades on (I'm only jealous because he's younger than me).

As we drive along the street, we pass a lad on a BMX style bike on the far pavement. He watches the Porsche and then gives out a loud "whoop" as I pass, and shouts in the window "Your car is minted!!!" which presumably means he likes it. Mr Porsche driver turns around smiling and then sees that the lad isn't talking to him... I wave casually and drive on.

This isn't helping the "will I sell it" debate...

:: Saturday, April 9, 2011 ::

The day starts off misty, but the weather forecast says sunny, so I decide to have a run in the Cerbera. By the time I reach the Forth Road Bridge, the sun has broken through and it's lovely! I have a great drive, the weather warms up really quickly. After a stop at a garden centre to buy nasty stuff to kill a millipede invasion of my garage, and another stop to buy cola, and another stop shortly after that for a pee, I am back at the Forth Bridge car park. I am amused to watch a bus load of tourists pull up, they all pile out, take turns at taking each others photos with the bridge as backdrop, and also beside a strategically-placed red phone box, which you never see apart from in the vicinity of tourist buses, and pile back on the bus and leave. Total time allocated to "doing the Forth Bridge" - less than 7 minutes.

Just as I get home, I hear that the exhaust is blowing slightly. A quick lift on a jack confirms that one of the mounting bolts at the front of the decat pipes has sheared off, the joint is loose and the whole rear section of the exhaust has rotated slightly and is dinging against the other half. I put a spare bolt in, realign the back boxes and tighten it all up.

Then my son asks for a lift to his mate's birthday piss-up, so I get another run in the Cerbera!

:: Sunday, April 10, 2011 ::

The weather forecast until the middle of next week looks good, so I decide to swap over the TVRs and bring the S back to the house. Via a 30-mile route, obviously!

When I first get out of the farm road and onto the main road, and I pull away from the junction, I think there's something wrong with the engine - it seems so underpowered! Then I remind myself I've just stepped out of a Cerbera (and even the Lexus is faster than this) so it takes a wee bit longer for the revs to build up! Within two miles, I'm enjoying it's go-kart qualities - you can feel what every tyre is doing, the way you don't have to slow (much) for corners, and the noise - it's nowhere near as loud as the Cerbera, but you know what? I think it sounds superb.

This is a car you can enjoy regardless of the actual speed. Even at legal speeds, you can enjoy just motoring along. And no worries of an expensive bang (not that it will never go bang - just that if it does, it's not expensive!). I love it.

When I get home, I decide to clean up the engine's electrical connectors - I've seen a lot of cars on Pistonheads asking for advice, and I've been explaining that the ecu can get confused if it's not getting clean signals from the various sensors around the engine. I remove and clean the distributor cap and leads, then the idle speed control valve and throttle pot connectors, and then the connections to the coil and the fuel and coolant temperature sensors. Finally, there's a big multi-way connector under the coil, that carries all of these signals back to the ecu, and isn't very waterproof. I take that apart and clean that too.

:: Monday, April 11, 2011 ::

When I was out yesterday, I noticed the occasional "clonk" from underneath - it felt as if it was coming from the offside rear suspension. I've mentioned it before (since the body lift and chassis repair). I'm not sure if it's the suspension or something at the back edge of the door. Let's eliminate the suspension possibility first. I jack the car up and pull, push, twist and shake the wheel: no sign of any play.

I remove the wheel and examine all the bushes with a lever with a cloth around it - they seem fine. When I check the security of the damper, I feel it move very slightly, just once, and then it won't move again. I put a jack under the brake drum, just enough to lift the weight of the swing arm without compressing the spring, but still no movement. I jack the swing arm up until the damper is almost under full compression (ie just before the chassis starts to lift of the axle stand) but it's still fine. Then as I release the jack and the suspension drops to full travel, it makes a noise.

I check the tightness of the damper mounting bolts, and they seem tight enough, although I do manage to turn them a little more, just to be sure.

I've just realised as I am writing this that the noise I heard could have been the spring moving (rotating) slightly in its seat, but I didn't think of that at the time. Never mind, I'll see what happens.

I also check all the body mounting bolts on that side. They're fine.

I'm on a roll now, so I clean all of the bodywork with detailer - it gets a bit dusty in the garage at the farm, even with a cover over it.

No stopping me now - I get some tyre gel and clean the rubber bumper inserts. It looks good!

While I have the bonnet open, I notice that the radiator looks a bit tatty - it was resprayed in matt black when I had it recored a few years ago, but the paint is wearing off in places. I still have some matt black VHT exhaust paint (from the era of the cracked and brazed manifold) so I repaint the visible parts of the radiator, and then run the car up to temperature to cure the paint. Lovely!

I decide to pack in for the night, before the garage is again invaded by millipedes and I am surrounded by the little buggers, like in that scene from "The Mummy", with only a rechargeable inspection lamp to keep them at bay.

:: Tuesday, April 12, 2011 ::

I find some time to continue tidying up under the bonnet. Now I can see that although the radiator looks black, the paint hasn't penetrated into the fins, so it only looks black if you climb on top of the engine and look at the radiator straight on. Since this is not the conventional angle for under-bonnet spectators, I decise that I need to spray the paint on. Cue the airbrush I bought to recolour the seats!

It doesn't take long to set up - thin the paint down a bit, load it into the jar, start the compressor and away we go! I do it at fairly low pressure so that the paint doesn't blast right through the radiator and out through the front grille.

Then while it's drying, I decide to re-route some of the cables and hoses, and tie wrap them together so that the engine bay isn't just a mass of random wires and hoses.

:: Wednesday, April 13, 2011 ::

I'm back today, to cleaning the engine bay. First I clean up all the paintwork with detailer, then polish the intake plenum and other metal bits.

The alternator fan is dirty and rusty, so I remove it by loosening the fan belt, and then using a 24 mm spanner on the nut, with an allen socket stopping the spindle for turning. The pulley slides off easily, taking care not to lose the little woodruff key, then I remove the washer and fan plate. A couple of coats of primer, then some silver paint I had in the garage, and it's as good as new. Nearly.

Then I clean the steering wheel (yes I know that's a bit random, but I noticed it was a bit dirty and scuffed). It cleans up ok, but really needs some of the scuffs treated. I wonder if a small version of the seat resurface kit would do the job? And if it does, should I change the colour of the wheel rim while I'm at it? Hmmm... Phone call to leather kit suppliers I think!

Here's the result! Still a bit to go, but this is how I like it - looking simple, and clean, reasonably original without too much "bling".

And here's the car waiting in the git-cave. Note the strategically placed jump leads (not for this car: that's exactly in line with where the battery is on that purple bitch). Note also the strip of carpet as featured heavily in "Sprint" magazine articles.

I've spent hours out in the garage since I brought the car back to the house on Sunday, with the radio on in the background, footering with the car and letting time just slip away... and it's great. It reminds me of how I felt about the car when I got it (it's 8 years today since I went to look at it after spotting the advert, and agreed to buy it!). I knew then that it needed some TLC, and that I had a bit of a mountain to climb. Looking back at the photos from that time, I see how the car has improved, despite my best efforts to break it at every opportunity, yet I still want to make it a little bit better.

I just don't get that with the Cerbera.

I can't see myself selling the S, the thought has never really crossed my mind (well, it did once, when I was really pissed off, not only with the car but with other things as well). The fact that I am even wondering whether to sell the Cerbera or not, really says it all, when you think about it.

Oh and that's another thing - there have been a few people recently saying their car (or mine) will never be as good as this car or that car (particularly Dave's). I know that, and it makes no difference to me. I like Dave's cars, and any others that are in pristine condition, but that's not my aim, and the fact that somebody else's car might be better than mine, doesn't stop me enjoying mine for what it is. So there.

:: Thursday, April 14, 2011 ::

Norman Fowler managed to find a February 1995 issue of "Car Mechanics" on ebay, and bought it because it has an article in it about Ford 2.9 engine diagnostics. He has scanned it in colour, and made it available for download.

I bought a back copy of that same article in 1997 or something, while I owned the Granada. They couldn't supply that issue as a complete issue, so what I got was a black and white (and not very good) photocopy. I found it a few years ago, tucked into a Haynes manual, and scanned it and put it on here so that people could download it.

The colour version is much better and much clearer, so I have replaced my version with Norman's. Thanks Norman!

One thing though - his scanned file is 33 megabytes, so it takes ages to download. I managed to reduce it in size to 1.5 megabytes, so it's a bit quicker.

This link takes you to Norman's external hosting site, where you can download the 33 Mb version. Click the link then click "Regular download".

This link downloads the smaller version directly from my site.

Both versions are also now available from the "links" page, which you can access from the site menu on the left.

:: Saturday, April 16, 2011 ::

I had to have a bit of a lie down yesterday after spraining my brain muscle, trying to set up those links to that diagnostics sheet.

Today, I decided to have a run in the S - so I decided to follow the same route that I went over last week in the Cerbera, just to compare. There's no doubt that the Cerbera's faster, but the S is a lot of fun - it just sticks to the bends , when the Cerbera feels like it's about to become part of the scenery. Lots of fun, even at sensible (sort of) speeds.

I've done about 20 miles before I realise that I haven't heard that clonking noise - so must have sorted it eh?

That's when it starts. A particularly bumpy bit of road and I hear it - it doesn't sound serious, there's no vibration, just this "clonk" from time to time. Then I realise that it only started after I put the window down - so I put it up and it stops for a few miles. I think I'll take the door to bits when I get home...

As I head home, I pass Mike's house and see that he's in his garage, so I decide to stop to give him a kicking for driving past when the Cerb's exhaust fell off. Apparently, he didn't see me. A purple cerb on the hard shoulder of a dead straight motorway, and he didn't notice.

Anyway... we talk about S Series, the universe and everything, then I head home.

After faffing about cutting grass, fixing shed door hinges, and stuff like that, I get back to the car. I remove the speaker then the door trim, pull the wiring aside, and start to feel about inside the door for anything that's loose. The window motor is secure, so are the window channels and the door lock. The window motor works by pushing a cable in and out of a metal cover, and there's about a foot of that metal cable lying along the bottom of the door, and that makes a noise if you move it - but it doesn't move easily, and the noise is different. Just to be sure, I cable tie that cablem and the window motor wiring, to the mounting bracket. Nothing else loose. Very mysterious.

Then as I shove all the wiring back through the door aperture, the connector on the electric mirror wiring hits the glass, which is part way down, and the noise echoes around the inside of the door. I know that sound! I cable tie the connector and wiring to the inside of the door frame (making sure the window still goes down without catching it!) and reassemble the door trim and speaker. Hopefully that's it sorted this time!

I was also going to clean the rear window but couldn't find the plastic scratch remover kit. I'll save that for tomorrow.

:: Sunday, April 17, 2011 ::

The sun is shining again, and it's too good to resist - I decide to have another run in the S!

I don't go very far this time - I find myself in Edinburgh city centre, and come to the conclusion that the roads are absolutely crap. They had better roads than this in Dodge City in the early 1800s - but not as many cowboys supposedly fixing them. No wonder people are buying 4x4s for city driving - and then the same council brings in a policy to charge 4x4s more for parking. People don't use them through choice you morons - if the roads were better, ordinary cars could use them. As it is, some of these so-called main roads are only passable by helicopter.

It wouldn't be so bad if they weren't throwing half a billion quid straight onto a tram system that nobody needs. What will it do? Well it replaces the No 22 bus (but only for part of its route) and is almost as fast. But dearer. Good business case there, then. In the meantime, people who live and work in the city have had to put up with various levels of disruption for fecking years. And now the council and the contractors have fallen out, they've all gone home, and can't even agree whose balls to kick when the game restarts. It's a bleeding nightmare.

And breathe...

I stop to take a couple of photos - I keep taking photos of bits of the car, but not many of the whole car.

When I get home, I go back to tidying up the engine bay. I've realised that it looks a little cluttery, and one of the main clutters is the breather hose from the oil filler cap to the air cleaner. I take it off for a trial, and think it looks better - so I nip down to Halfords and buy one of those little breather filters, and fit that, and then blank off the air cleaner end to keep crud out.

Then I re-route some other pipes and cables so that they look a bit less random.

Then I clean the rear window with detailer, and it comes up ok, so I decide not to polish it for now.

:: Friday, April 22, 2011 ::

I was looking again at the photos of the engine bay, and I think that the paint on the cylinder heads and engine block is starting to look shappy. The block is the original light green colour, but I had previously repainted the heads in a matt grey heat resistant paint, which looks like when it's first done, but looks dull after a while. So I ordered some engine enamel in light green, so that I can put it all back to the original Ford colour. The paint arrived today, so I get the car out of the garage and into the sun, so I can see what I'm doing!

I jack the front of the car up and put a couple of axle stands underneath so that I can get the bonnet vertical. I undo the bonnet strut, then notice that the nearside hinge bolt has come loose, so I tighten it up so that the locknut bites again - about 2 turns.

Then with the bonnet right open, I can get in with some degreaser and a power washer, and clean the engine up. To be honest, it's not bad, the engine hardly leaks at all, but it picks up crud, so I need to get that off first.

Then I run the engine for a bit, to evaporate the water off, then leave it to cool while I get my dinner.

When I open the paint, it's a bit lighter than I expected, but I give it a go. I've only painted about 6 inches of cylinder head though, before I realise that it looks crap - it looks like Dulux Magnolia (not that there's anything wrong with magnolia, just not on a TVR engine).

Sod it, I'll let it dry then paint it all silver.

:: Saturday, April 23, 2011 ::

After 2 weeks of sun, it decides to rain today because I want to move the S outside to paint the engine.

I do it in the garage, but it's not so easy - I need more lights in there. I should also paint the walls white to improve reflectance. But I get there, using a couple of hand lamps.

Oddly, I can't get the bonnet vertical - it's catching on something. Investigation shows that the bottom valance of the bonnet is catching on the plastic shroud round the fan. It's never done that before. As I am pondering the cause, I think about the slightly loose hinge, and I notice that the valance has the slightest curve in it. I release the hinge bolt, unscrew it a turn, and retighten the lock nut - and now it's fine! I think I need to check the bonnet adjustment!

After I've painted the cylinder heads and the timing cover etc, I start the engine and let it warm up for a bit to cure the paint.

Then I polish up the radiator caps, the plenum, the alternator and various other shiny bits. While I'm at it, I also polish up the two quarterlight window frames on the doors, which have never looked good since I got the car. They do now!

Anyway, here's some photos of the engine. I'm not really into multi-coloured "bling" like red (or even magnolia) engine blocks, coloured hoses and plug leads etc - I like it to look simple - black and silver and one other colour (in this case, blue).

:: Sunday, April 24, 2011 ::

It's sunny again! I decide to have a run out in the car, just to make sure it's going ok, you understand.

It is! It's going absolutely perfectly (I should cross my fingers at this point because that's usually a precursor of some catastophe about to befall it. Or me.

I stop to take a photo - I need to find some suitable locations.

I should also have stopped for fuel as well, but I'm home again before I remember. I'm slightly distracted by what appears to be a slight exhaust blow from the left side. Ah well, I'll have to fix that and go out again tomorrow eh?

:: Monday, April 25, 2011 ::

It's sunny yet again! I have a look at the exhaust, and sure enough, there's a slight blow from the offside downpipe where it joins the main system under the sump. These joints are always going to be a problem for me, because the front of the main system has been slightly flattened in the past, so the pipes aren't round, so getting them to seal with new (round) downpipes is nigh on impossible.

I disconnect the 3 bolts holding the pipe on at the front, and then the clamp around that joint, and pull the front pipe off. A bit of a wire brush and a clean against both bits of the join, and a smear (well, to be honest, more of a handful) of exhaust sealer gum around the joint, and I put it all back together.

It's still blowing slightly (not as bad, but still blowing).

I take it all to bits again, and have a think of how to bodge a better seal. I don't want to use more sealer paste because it will all blow out when it dries - I need something to hold the paste in position. SO I cut a strip of thick kitchen foil, and smear one side of theat in gum, then wrap it round the pipe, and push the new pipe over. Then I refit all the bolts and the clamp and try it again - and it's not blowing! I warm it up then leave it to harden.

While I am waiting, here's another couple of gratuitous photos of the engine, but outside without flash.

And a couple of photos of the car outside the garage.

Then I remember that I meant to go for fuel. Jump in, turn engine on, fuel gauge barely moves. All that "warming up" has used the last of the fuel I had. Never mind, off I go to the local Morrisons, which is only 2 minutes (downhill) down the road. Only I forgot it's a bank holiday, so the queue is out onto the main road. Not much choice, I don't think I've got enough petrol to get to the next fuel stop, so I sit and wait. After 10 minutes, I finally reach a pump, and go for the "pay at pump" option - except I haven't got my card with me. Or my wallet. Or any money at all. I have to get back in the car and drive away, on the fumes in the tank, and drive back (uphill) to the house, where some other domestic disaster has occured (which I won't go into here) which means that I don't get a chance to go back to the petrol station.

In a flash of inspiration, I remember that I have an emergency fuel can in the boot (seeing as I've never tested where "empty" actually is, since I renewed the fuel gauge sender). Aha! Problem solved!

It's empty. Problem not solved.

:: Friday, April 28, 2011 ::

It's sunny yet again!

Let's run through what we did today:

Decide that the bracket that holds the alternator on doesn't look right in red and decide to paint it black - check.
Disconnect battery, then alternator, and remove alternator - check.
Remove bracket, wire brush off most of the red Hammerite, and respray the bracket, the spacer and the adjusting arm in satin black - check
Polish alternator while it's off the car - check.

Reassemble the whole bloody thing after the paint has dried, refit and adjust alternator belt, and reconnect battery - check.
Start engine, to let it go through cold - hot cycle to reset idle speed - check.
Stop engine, wait a bit, then decide to check oil before the TVRCC meeting on Sunday, and dipstick snaps off in the top of the dipstick tube - check.

Whoa! Back up! What was that last one? Yes the dipstick snapped off as I pulled it out. Fortunately it pulled it out about 5mm first so there was just enough left sticking out to get a pair of pliers on before it fell down into the engine.

Closer inspection reveals that the plastic handle has cracked through, so it was only being held together by the metal dipstick bit, that is embedded about an inch into the plastic handle, and that seems to just have fatigued through.

Never mind, I'll get another one.

A quick rummage on the net reveals that all Ford dipsticks are different lengths (well you would expect them to be), and this particular one is rarer than a rare thing that's only been cooked for 4 seconds. So getting another one might not be as easy as I thought...

:: Saturday, April 30, 2011 ::

Well having spent most of last night pondering how to repair the dipstick, I decide that the first priority is to make a temporary replacement so that I can use the car tomorrow.

But how will I make one? For a minute I think about cloning myself, because being a dipstick seems to be my speciality just now, but I decide that my replica would be too fat to fit down the tube.

So with fond memories of my previous ownership of Escorts, Capris, Cortinas, Corsairs, Granadas and various other sheds emanating from Dagenham, I recall that many of them had simple metal dip sticks. So the answer seems obvious. I take an old wire coathanger, then I wind some jeat-resistant tape around it to make a seal in the tube neck, and tighten a tie wrap around that to hold the tape in place but also to limit how far the dipstick goes into the tube. Then I use the remains of the old dipstick to cut the wore to length and to cut two grooves into the end, corresponding with the max and min oil level lines. Sorted!

Here's my masterpiece of engineering, beside the two bits of the old dip stick.

And here it is, in place in the engine. Neat eh?

With the car mobile again (apart from the lack of fuel, obviously, because I still haven't been for petrol) I decide to see if I can fix the old one. I don't have any superglue, and in any case, the break has been worn away over some time, so the two bits don't match. I decide that the joint needs more strength than just a flat glued joint (I don't want to risk it snapping off down the tube again) so I take another bit of coathanger and measure its thickness as 3mm.

Then I get a 3mm drill and try to drill down the centre of the handle and the yellow plastic bit left on top of the dipstick itself. The metal dipstick band goes up the centre though, so I have to drill down the edge of it, as close to the centre as possible. Then I measure the depth of each hole, add them together and cut my bit coathanger to the same length.

I push it all together and it's a pretty good interference fit. All I need now is some decent glue, then we'll see how it goes.

If that doesn't work, then I have another couple of possible methods in mind, if I can't track down a dipstick of the right type.

Then I decide that I'd better run the engine with my temporary dipstick in, just to make sure that the webs of the crankshaft aren't catching it. I take the stick out and start the engine, then replace the stick carefully listening and feeling for any contact. It's fine! I let the engine warm up properly again, just to make sure that it's been through a proper cold-hot cycle again, then switch it off and go to check the oil. This is when I realise why the dipstick has a long plastic handle, and also remember why the all-metal dipsticks in the sheds I mentioned earlier, were fecking useless. It's bloody hot!

It gives the right oil level reading through, once you've found the Savlon.