:: Diary - July 2011 ::

:: Friday, July 1, 2011 ::

Bit of a stroke of luck! George has 2 spare lambda sensors he can lend me to help with diagnosis. I'm still convinced I just need to find the water in the wiring somewhere, but it all helps - thanks George!

I've been reading a lot about Lambda sensors today - part numbers, so that I can get an equivalent (the local motor factor has them for less than half the TVR "specialists" price!). I've also been reading about how to test them, etc, and how to tell if there's a particular engine fault just by looking at them - like you can with spark plugs. So I'm almost ready to get started on further diagnosis of the Cerbera's problem.

:: Saturday, July 2, 2011 ::

I decided to have a go at further diagnosis of the Cerbera's problem, and see if I can fix it if it's a bad connection or water ingress.

The car's still along at the garage though, and I don't want to bring it back to the house today, because I need the S for the TVR Car Club meeting tomorrow, so I can't swap them just yet. So I have to take what I need with me - so that'll be the computer, diagnostic lead etc, a couple of screwdrivers to get the ECU out and take the cover off, some electrical comntact cleaner, some paper towels and a hairdryer to disperse any water, a box of electrical bits and crimping tool, a 17mm spanner to fit the lambdas, some other odd spanners, allen keys to remove the cover panel, an inspection light, and a jack and axle stands.

With that lot loaded in the boot, it's along to the garage. First I connect up this second computer I've set up - and it works as well! I reset the fault codes and adaptives, and start the engine - instant fault logged on lambda 1. Further inspection of screens I didn't reach the other day, shows that it's the lambda for the left hand cylinders that's at fault - that confirms advice on Pistonheads too.

Engine off, remove footwell panel and remove the ECU. It seems dry enough but I remove the 4 screws holding the cover on - nope it's dry in there as well. A grope arund the footwell confirms no dampness at all.

OK... on to the lambdas. I jack the front of the car up and stick a couple of axle stands under, then examine the lambdas for damage. They are right at the back of the manifold though, and I need to remove the decat pipes to get a spanner on to the lambda - and I don't have spanners with me that will remove the decat pipe.

I decide that I'll check the connectors in any case. They are located above the bellhousing- you can see the right hand one in this photo, sticking down under the cable tie. The left hand one is under that grey connector, where you can't even see it, never mind reach it.

I can't get both hands down there to disconnect them though, even after I've removed the throttle linkage, and I need to cut through that cable tie holding all those cables together, so that I can test the lambdas. Look at the list above again - I don't have anything with me to cut the sodding cable tie. That means a half-hour journey to the house and back, and I can't be bothered. I need to get the car to the house, either tomorrow or later in the week, so that I can get into this.

:: Sunday, July 3, 2011 ::

It's TVR Car Club day! We're not going to our usual venue, because they have a wedding on, and us uncouth louts with our noisy cars have been barred. So instead we're going for a run to a hotel in the highlands! This means meeting up with Dave and the others at 9:00, so of course I make sure I'm up by the crack of 8:50. Ooops.

Never mind, get up, get dressed and out to the car, where as soon as I turn on the igniion I remember that I've got no petrol, so I need to go for some. Worse, as soon as I start to move, to manouevre the car out of the garage, the steering starts clonking about, the wheel jumping up and down. Something's not right. Obviously. Not to be deterred, I head down to the shops to fill the tank, then head off to meet the others, trying to diagnose the steering fault as I go. It turns ok, it's just dead clonky.

By the time I get to Dave's, I'm so late that Jim's already there. So is Robert. After a quick look, I figure out that the plastic triangular bush has slid up the steering column, out of the bulkhead bearing, so the triangular column is clattering about inside the bearing. I manage to wiggle the steering and get the end of the bush back in, and then knock it all the way back with a bar and hammer. Sorted!

So we eventually leave a bit late, for some reason, so we don't have time to go by the scenic route to meet the othersm so we blatter up motorway, allowing ourselves a detour onto the old road for a few miles, just to relieve the boredom. We eventually meet up with Hugh, and wait till the others (who started further back down the road) come past, and we join on the end - 14 TVRs in procession!

The route to the hotel can best be described as "interesting", with some single track roads, with steep gradients, very sharp hairpins, sheep, cyclists, dawdly ramblers, the lot. It's a beautiful day though so a procession of (by this time) 16 TVRs draws a lot of attention.

About 5 miles from the hotel I realise that we've lost Dave who was at the back. Another car has disappeared as well so perhaps he's stopped. I can't see who the other missing car is though. When we arrive at the hotel, there's no sign of Dave or the other absentee. Then Hugh turns up in the wrong car park, god only knows where he's been. No Dave though.

"What happened to Dave?"

"Oh we stopped in a passing place to let someone past, and didn't get going again."

"Did you go back?"

"No..."

There's no bleeding phone signal (we're in the Scottish Highlands after all, so coverage is sparse at the best of times, but seeing as there's a fecking huge mountain between us and the satellite, we'd be as well to be on the other side of the moon) so I set off back down the last 8 miles (I know he was there when we turned off the main road) but there's no sign.

As I turn round to come back, the gear knob comes off.

Undeterred, I blooter back with my knob tucked down the side of the seat (there's a sentence you'll never read in "Top Gear"), to find that Dave's turned up - I missed him by seconds, he turned into the wrong car park at exactly the same time as I left ours! Claire has left 3 text messages and 8 voicemails telling me to go back.

Never mind - we have a good lunch and general blether, I refix the gear knob, and forget to put suncream on so I've spent 4 hours in the sun and my head is nipping.

Since I resigned as a director of the company I was with (although I still go in to help them) I've found it difficult to keep quiet and not interfere in other people's decision-making processes, when I really don't care what the answer is. Those new skills are tested severely when we come to discuss the best route home again. Following the customary major committee consultation, we decide to return by the same route to where we met Hugh, then continue back via Gleneagles and Glendevon (the route we would have come, if everybody had been there to start on time... So off we go! Somehow I end up in front again (I suspect it was because I'd seen the hotel's room rates and didn't fancy staying the night). Jim's habit of "hanging back a bit" goes wrong when he doesn't notice that we've all gone up a slip road and goes straight on. Knowing Jim's extensive knowledge of the highways and byways of Scotland, he might still be circling now like a satellite with a flat battery.

As people have peeled off to go home, we're down to 4 cars now, then Dave disappears again, so we wait till he's sorted it, then carry on until we catch up with a small procession of the "40 everywhere" club.

Just as I turn on to the motorway, I notice that the fuel gauge is on "empty" - now I know that it under-reads, and I've driven 50 miles on "empty" before - but the problem is, I've been so engrossed in watching behind me to make sure people are still there, while negotiating dawdlers etc, that I don't know how long it's been "empty" for. When I finally get home, I've driven the last 30 miles (at least) with the gauge on empty. I know how to live on the edge, me.

:: Monday, July 4, 2011 ::

I decide to take the S along to the farm and bring the Cerbera back to the house for further diagnosis and repair. Pretty uneventful really, except that just as I am driving the Cerbera out of the garage, the fault light goes off, then comes on, and goes off again. Bastard thing.

Once I've swapped the cars and tucked the S in under a sheet, I dive back with the fault light flickering on and off to no real pattern that I can make out - sometimes on acceleration, sometimes on the over-run, sometimes just sitting idling. This tends to confirm my suspicion that it's probably a duff connection.

Back at the house, I don't really have time (or the inclination) to get into this tonight, but I remove the throttle linkage and cut a couple of cable ties so that I can reach the connectors - I can't get two hands down at the same time to twist them apart though, I need to either dismantle more engine, or grow a couple of skinny tentacles instead of normal arms. Bastard thing.

:: Wednesday, July 6, 2011 ::

I've been busy with work the last couple of days, so today was the first chance I got to update the web site.

I also finally managed to get out to the garage to start to diagnose these bleeding lambda sensors. How the bloody hell are you supposed to reach the connectors? They are away down between the back of the engine and the bulkhead and it looks impossible to get 2 hands down there to pull the connectors apart.

Not having grown the necessary skinny tentacles over the last couple of days, I need to dismantle more engine. First I decide that, since I propose to swap a sensor anyway, I'll take the duff one (cylinders 1357) out of the exhaust and then see if I can disconnect it from the loom. I jack the car up, and remove the decat pipes so that I can get a spanner on the sensor. It won't turn - there's limited space and it's really tight. It's not for budging. Shit.

I have 2 choices now: either remove the whole manifold, to get a bigger spanner horsed on to the sensor, or try swapping the connections and see if the problem moves to the other side (which would confirm a duff sensor) or not (which would indicate a wiring / ECU fault). That'll be option B then.

I can't get the decat pipes back in - the rear section of the exchaust has moved forward slightly and I can't get the pipe in the gap. I need to hold the back section backwards a bit while I push the pipe in, but I've only got the front of the car jacked up so I can't really get turned round to push it with my foot or anything. I wrap a ratchet strap round the rear wishbones, and round a wee bar that's welded between the two exhausts to stop them rattling together - tighten the ratchet, exhaust moves back, replace pipe, loosen strap to hold exhaust in place, replace bolts and tighten it all up. OK now I'm back to where I was when I started an hour and a half ago.

Right what's the next bright idea? I need to disconnect them from the top, and dismantle as much as I have to, to get both hands down the space.

I remove the fuel pump relay and also the fuse, and then try to start the engine, to depressurise the fuel system. Then I disconnect the fuel supply hose and the vacuum hose to the pressure regulator, undo 4 cap bolts and remove the fuel rail and injectors.

That leaves the engine looking like this. You can just see the sensor down the triangular-shaped space behind the dipstick tube.

Here's a closer view. The connector you see, just behind the blue plug leads, is for the right hand sensor. The one I need to check is underneath that wiring, to the right.

I can just get another hand down there, and manage to get the two connectors apart - but not before I've ripped my arms to bleeding shreds on all those bleeding cable ties - there must be thousands fitted to every TVR! I don't know how I'm going to get them back together, but I'll worry about that when I have to.

Here's the two connectors on the loom - the left hand one is to the right hand sensor, and is covered in red grease. The right one has no grease, and goes to the left hand sensor - the one that the ECU says isn't right.

And this is the connector on the wires from the right hand sensor... again huge dollops of red grease in evidence.

I'm a bit confused - I can see why you would want to make sure there was a good connection, and why you might want to use a conductive grease to keep the water out - but surely, if the grease is conductive, a huge dollop like that must be giving cross-signals between the three terminals. On the other hand, the left hand sensor has no grease and must be more susceptible to water ingress. So it seems to me that I need to clean up both connections, add a little grease or vaseline, and put them back together, reconnect the fuel system and re-run the computer diagnostics.

Not today though...

:: Thursday, July 7, 2011 ::

Duh!!!

It's not a conductive grease - it's a dielectric contact grease designed to prevent water ingress. I've never used it but I go out today and buy some from Maplins.

When I get home I give both connectors a clean with electrical contact cleaner, and then push some grease into each of the terminals, before connecting the lamda sensors back up again. It's really fiddly but it's possible. Just.

Don't have time to do any more tonight, but I'll get on to it tomorrow. I'm going to disconnect the battery and change the big fuse behind the engine (seeing as it's accessible while the fuel rail is off) then replace all the cable ties, replace the fuel rail and injectors, then run the diagnostics on the computer again and see what happens.

:: Friday, July 8, 2011 ::

Well I got the Cerbera back together. First I cable tied all the cables back into place, then replaced the big fuse behind the coil packs. It's in a wee plastic housing, so I disconnect the battery, open up the fuse holder, then undo the two screws holding the fuse and cables in place. I've bought one of the 125 amp replacement fuses, that's a direct replacement for the flat metal strip 100 amp standard fuse. Once I've replaced it, I put some contact grease on the screws (see I'm getting my money's worth out of this), and cable tie the housing shut to keep it dry.

Then I reconnect the battery and replace the fuel rail and hoses, and the fuel pump relay and fuse.

It starts! and no MIL light!

I leave it to warm up while I tidy my stuff away, then connect up the computer and run the diagnostics. I clear the fault log and reset the adaptives, and check the other settings - everything's fine. Replace the ECU and the footwell trim, and have a test drive. Now I might be wrong but it seems to be running much more smoothly and evenly, pulling in all gears from any revs. It's brilliant!

Now this isn't the first car I've ever fixed, but for some reason, I'm feeling pretty pleased with myself!

:: Friday, July 15, 2011 ::

I had a run out in the Cerbera today (well a couple of runs) just to see how it's going, and it's brilliant! Really smooth, even from idle, in just about any gear - right up to massive noise levels!

:: Saturday, July 16, 2011 ::

I'm so impressed with the transformation of the Cerbera, that I'm going to clean all the connections to the engine sensors on the S. I've also got a couple of other jobs to do while I'm at it.

So it's along to the garage at the farm with a boot full of stuff. First I pour a gallon of fuel into the tank - and the fuel gauge doesn't even move.

Then I scrape the rubber sealer out of the top of the windscreen on the driver's side (the side that was leaking on the way to S Club). Then I drip in some Seek'n'Seal which seems to just disappear at one bit (the bit where most of the rain was coming in!). I put a plastic bag on the driver's seat (I learned my lesson last time!).

While that's drying, I remove the coil, and then the big electrical connector underneath it (the one that carries all the engine sensor signals to the main loom). I also disconnect the throttle pot, idle speed valvem fuel sensor and both lamdas - one of the lamda connections is so corroded I can barely get it apart. I clean all the connections with electrical contact cleaner and then some fine wet and dry, then grease them with the silicon grease and put them all back tokether, then clean the coil connections and reconnect that back up.

I start it up and dive underneath to find that bloody exhause joint is leaking again. I let it warm up a bit, then switch off and pack some high- temperature silicon gasket compound into the gap and leave it to set - I know, I should really take the exhaust to bits and seal it properly - but not today...

Finally, I tighten up the gear knob properly!

:: Wednesday, July 20, 2011 ::

It's a year since I got the Cerbera back from the rebuild, it's done about 3,500 miles, so it shouldn't really need a full service, but a wee oil change wouldn't go amiss eh?

I bought the oil and filter a bleeding month ago, a major investment because it takes six and a half litres of the expensive stuff you can only get in 5 litre tins - so I had to but 10 litres...

While I'm getting the oil out, I find 5 litres of Mobil 1 that I bought for the S, then couldn't find it when I was servicing it, so bought another 5 litres - so I've got more oil in the garage than you'd need for a chip shop at a Hells Angel rally.

Anyway - onwards and upwards - I jack the front of the car up, then jack it up a bit more so that I can get my belly under. I either need a pit in the floor or a higher jack. A less fat body would also help but let's keep to the realistic options eh?

The manual, and advice on Pistonheads, suggest removing the plate under the engine to give access to the filter - but it looks pretty damn accessible to me. It screws upwards into a remote housing so it's not even at an awkward angle. I get the filter pliers on to it, and off it comes - it's bleeding tight, mind, and the mounting thread is so long that it takes a million turns to get the thing off - but it's off, without spilling too much oil out and with no bits of skin missing off my arms.

Fill the new filter with oil to prime it, a wee smear round the rubber seal and screw it back on and tighten it by hand. That wasn't awkward - I've changed filters that you can barely even see, never mind get your hand or a wrench on. The one on the S is more awkward, at least until you've done it a dozen times and have perfected the mystical sequence of moves you need, to get the filter out between all the hoses, cables and bits of chassis. It's like a Chinese wire puzzle. Blindfolded. And with oil pishing up your arms.

Then it's a simple matter of undoing the sump nut which is a 24mm metric (or a 1/2 inch BSW socket fits perfectly!) and draining all the old oil into a big tray - remember there's 6.5 litres in there so a 5 litre catch tray isn't big enough!

Wipe the magnetic bits of the sump plug, stick the sump plug back in, and refill with nice clean new oil, making sure it's up to the "full" mark on the dipstick.

Right, here goes - turn the engine over a couple of times then start her up without revving - the oil pressure gauge takes a worrying second or two to move, but settles on about 70 psi at idle - much the same as before, it usually drops to about 60 when the engine is warmed up. I let it run for a few minutes to circulate the oil, then check for leaks around the filter and sump plug before I switch it off and leave it while I empty the tray of used oil into a couple of old oil tins (including the one I've just emptied), then tidy my stuff up.

Another level check shows that it's gone down slightly (probably topping up the filter) so I add a wee drop more to bring it up to the mark.

Another job done! Piece of piss these Cerberas.

:: Monday, July 25, 2011 ::

I got a voucher for my birthday for one of those driver experiences events at Knockhill race circuit, so I've booked it for today. I've chosen to drive an E-Type Jag rather than any of the modern stuff - I thought it might give a better impression of speed and handling. It's a nice day so I think I'll go in the Cerbera just to enhance the experience.

On the way up, just as I turn off the motorway, I recognise the car behind me - it belongs to a man who was my pal when I was a student (and that wasn't yesterday). He also happens to be married to my lawyer who bought and sold the house when I moved. He knows I have a purple Cerbera, he's seen photos - and he follows me from the motorway to the entrance to the circuit, but doesn't turn in, he carries on up the road. I thought he was maybe going to the same place as me, there's not a lot else further up that road!

Anyway, to the Jaguar experience - it was brilliant! I did something similar about 5 years ago and didn't really "get it" - I thought the instructor wasn't as good as I expected and it wasn't great. This time though, both instructors are excellent, and the car is superb - I'm addicted!

One thing I've realised though, after the drive up and back - my Cerbera needs the dampers adjusted, its handling is far too floppy...

When I get home I decide to spend the rest of the day polishing the Lexus - but it's as rough as sandpaper (even though it's only 3 years old) so I claybar it and polish it - it takes 5 hours but it looks good!

:: Friday, July 29, 2011 ::

I've got the Classic Speedfair at Knockhill this weekend, so I decide to smarten the Cerbera up a a bit. First I give it a wash and dry.

There are a few marks on the roof caused by acidic bird poo. I've tried various cleaners etc but it's clean enough - it's just that the stuff has eaten into the surface of the paint. I go round those, and various other wee marks and scratches, with Meguiars Scratch-X, and it takes them off no problem.

Then I polish the whole car, just to get that reflective paint finish working.

That's another 5 hours used up!

:: Sunday, July 31, 2011 ::

Well it's the Classic Speedfair today, and I'm organised - I manage to get up in time and everything. As a result I arrive at the agreed meeting point (Maccy D's) far too early. 2 guys in a can say they like the car, and I've breen brought up good so I say I like the signwriting on their van.

We've got a "new boy" from East Lothian joining our wee travelling group today, with a yellow Chimaera, so he gets to fly second in formation. Gates open at 9.00 but Adrian says we don't have to be there until 9.30. Not being one to leave things to the last minute (apart from, occasionally, getting up), we arrive just before 9, and park up. Now we were told we had a "prime spot" but I have to admit that any primacy is not immediately evident - it's a big sea of tarmac full of cars on display. We do seem to have an area to ourselves rather than being mixed up, but so does just about every other club as far as I can see.

Anyway, enough moaning. I ended up speaking to various TVR owners, and then bumping into people I knew as I wandered around the rest of the displays, including the E-type instructor from Monday, and a man I've spoken to before who has a fetish for 1950's American cars, and has turned up in 20 feet of Cadillac Fleetwood, in a shade of purple similar to the Cerbera. It's lovely!

Then we watched some motor racing. Repeat for hours, throwing in a cheeseburger, 2 bags of crisps, a yorkie and a double ice cream with a flake in it, and that was my day.

There's a guy in a Jaguar XJS who seems to have turned up on the wrong week, and thinks it's the Euro Drift CHanpionships as he showboats sideways round the hairpin. However we find him later in the paddock trying to fix a coolant leak.

There's a very nice Lancia Stratos which is either an original, or a very good replica. It's lovely too!

Finally, while we're watching the last race, a guy parks a replica Ford GT near us - he's spent 3 years building it and it looks stunning. The engine and exhausts are a work of art in themselves.

Our promised "parade lap" round the circuit doesn't materialise, because the event is running late - but having seen the way some drivers were behaving in other clubs who were on earlier, I'm not bothered any more. Dave makes a very good point about track day insurance (even although it's not a competitive event). One major difference that I was aware of, is that track day insurance covers YOU for repairs to YOUR car - so even if any accident is somebody else's fault, you can't claim from them. So basically, even if you are behaving and observing proper track etiquette, and somebody smacks into you for the simple reason that they are an over-excited arse hole, and you don't have insurance, you're screwed. So are they, probably, but that's not a great consolation... ANyway, cancellation of the parade lap solves that particular dilemma, which I hadn't even thought of for something like that - obviously a proper "track day" is different (but not necessarily in the eyes of the insurer!).

I did go to the circuit office to ask about their "perfomance driving" course - basically lots of laps under instruction in your own car - and got some dates, most of which clash with days I have to be at work. There's a couple in September though... more research required on the "track day insurance" thing!

Oh and although we didn’t get rain, it was quite windy – so although it wasn’t warm or sunny, there was still a fair amount of sunlight getting through. I was outside from 9am to 6 pm. All of that is my way of making excuses for getting sunburnt again.

We have a nice drive home, despite being tailgated at 50 mph in a steady stream of traffic over the Forth Bridge, by a clown in a Corsa who thinks that a 2 inch gap (no that's not an exaggeration, he really was right on the back bumper) is enough. If the back bumper was as chipped as the front, there would have been a definite possibilty of a free respray, but I just let him get on with winding himself up until he could get past.