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One reaches that stage in life when you reminisce and recall an
incident or two that occurred during the 60’s; in this case with my
favourite Austin Seven, ‘CG’; a 1934 RP Saloon, registration mark CG
7241. There’s not much technical content in these tales, but here
goes.
Part 1 - Up to the floor pan
I read recently that during a snowy period an Austin Seven had been the
only car to climb a hill due to its narrow tyres cutting through the
snow to terrá firmá. This reminded me of a time when I was trying to
make some progress with a stevedore’s daughter. I had taken Cheryl
out for a meal at a pub in the New Forest (part of my social area at the
time). We left the pub in plenty of time to get to her home before
10.30pm – the hour her father had declared she had to be home, or else!
She was over 18 as well, how times have changed.
Nearing Southampton, having avoided the black ponies (it seems only the
black ones wander across the road at night and 6 volt headlights don’t
help), I decided there was time for some close encounters on the rear
seat and pulled well over onto the verge. I little time later,
with just enough time to get Cheryl home by 10.30, I started the car up,
cleared the windows, put the car in gear and we did not move! I
opened the door to see that the wheels had worked their way into the
verge to the extent that the floor pan was squashing the grass down,
which was much further than I had managed to get!
Panic, I had to carry Cheryl to the road edge (she had borrowed her
mother’s shoes) and thumb a lift to get her home. Well a lorry and
a Taxi did get her home by 10.45pm, a few minutes late. However 10.30
was the curfew hour and I was read the Riot Act and I didn’t see Cheryl
again.
The car meanwhile, well I returned early next morning and a local farmer
hitched ‘CG’ up and dragged her out. Nothing was missing, all the tools
etc. where still there. Those were the days when you could leave a car
out without it being stripped in 2 hours. I was also late for work in
Winchester, so heard another version of the Riot Act.
I can believe the snowy Austin Seven did manage to climb the hill where
all others failed.
Part 2 - Lost specs
In the early 60’s I went everywhere in ‘CG’ whatever the weather and
although I was used to rain, I was not fully prepared for the following.
We were invited to a nurse’s party at Beach Road in Southsea as they had
finished their training and were leaving for Sheffield. A couple of
Austin Sevens set forth with ten people from Southampton. The
party was great, plenty to drink, good music and the company
exceptional! At about 3am some of us decided to go skinny dipping,
so down the shingle beach, disrobe, and in. Unfortunately it was
too dark to see anything worthwhile, so I came out to find my clothes,
get warm and put my spec’s on! I couldn’t find them (I never did);
they had merged into the shingle. The others came, dried down and got
dressed, but without my spec’s my imagination had to fill in the blanks.
Now 4.00am, and time to return to Southampton in ‘CG’ then on to
Winchester. It was raining heavy, real heavy, the vacuum wiper was
having an off night and I couldn’t see a thing anyway without my specs.
Eight of us piled in the two cars and we set off, me following the
other Austin Seven, at least our braking capabilities were on a par, so
not much of a problem of me running into the back of him, if he braked?
All I could see was the tail-light (yes one) to follow, but with big
blobs of water on my smeared windscreen, which became searchlights and
iridescent waterfalls when vehicles passed the other way keeping the
light in sight was difficult!. The situation became worse when a
‘modern’ came behind with its brilliant 12volt full beam lights; I was
steering into a black hole - “Stargazy pie-eyed”.
At one point somebody got between us, I don’t know how considering how
close I was following, but I seem to remember it caused some problems,
however they soon disappeared, I then sat very closely on the tail of
the other car for the rest of the journey. I‘m told I still drive
too close to the car in front.
We eventually got to Southampton at 5am; I dropped off my passengers and
I made my way up to Winchester. I reckoned ‘CG’ knew the road back home
better than I did. Her steering was probably less erratic than mine.
A police car followed me the last half-mile into a car park by home, and
then left us alone. I often wondered what they thought. I fell asleep in
the car until my mother found me later that morning (no gooseberry bush
jokes please).
Part 3 - The right turn
In the summer months during the 60’s, our group from Southampton visited
Dorset regularly, this is ‘CG’ at Lulworth Cove about 1964 – I’ve got my
new specs on, but I’m not sure why there’s a safety helmet on the front
wing!
'CG’
was a good runner and I would often let ‘CG’ have her head. We
were returning from Lulworth, a bank holiday weekend and came up behind
a tidy queue of traffic near Wareham; the road ahead was straight for a
mile and gently sloping down. All caution was thrown aside and
with nothing in sight coming the other way, pulled out, horn burbling,
the passengers cheering loudly, I opened up and set about overtaking
about a hundred cars – clever me!
About 2/3rds of the way along the road I could see a car pottering
along a side road towards the main road on our side. Slowly it came to
me that we would arrive at the junction at about the same time, the
further thought occurred that if he turned towards us he might not think
to look our way after seeing nothing coming along from his right.
The brakes on ‘CG’ with four up were not the most efficient and there
were no ‘holes’ in the traffic queue for me to slow down and aim at.
The other car, as anticipated/feared, turned towards us with about a
hundred yards to go. The driver was the whitest person I’ve ever seen as
he realised that we were in full flight on his side of the road.
Whilst making a vain attempt at stabbing the brakes on, miraculously a
gap appeared in the queue, with a bus lay-by just beyond it. We swerved
in – always difficult with an Austin Seven, all brakes nearly locked,
slipped into the bus lay-by and then with the queue starting to gain
momentum and leaving ‘start-up gaps’ we rejoined the traffic flow.
How we didn’t hit anything, or turn over (that did happen once) I don’t
know.
The rest of the journey was taken more cautiously, a smell stayed in the
car a few days!
Part 4 - The turnover
October 9th often occurs as an important date in my life, 1960 I had a
look at my first potential car, a 1928 Morris Cowley with a 1933
Commercial radiator, Dad gave me good advice and I passed it by. 1961,
my first Austin Seven was purchased from a shed at Weyhill – it lasted 3
weeks. 1962 I stopped drinking cider; I almost stopped totally on that
date. 1965 was a very memorable party with a girlfriend who worked in
the wardrobe dept. at the BBC in London, 1967 the breathalyser test was
introduced, 1968 I left home in Winchester and 1972 my eldest son was
born.
9th Oct 1967 – I had taken some Southampton friends home in ‘CG’. I had
just left the Bassett Hotel Jazz Club, having gone back to collect my
fee, and I noticed a Police ‘road block’ up on The Avenue, I thought I
would head ‘CG’ down towards Millbrook and then back up towards
Winchester, avoiding the Police.
‘CG’ flew down the road and hit the roundabout fast, round we went, the
rear quarter ecliptic’s helping to steer us round the curve, then
turning the wheel sharply to take us back up towards Winchester, the
front half elliptic rolled over, the rear quarters thoroughly enjoyed
the excitement and contributed some extra boost to the steering and over
went the car onto the driver’s side. ‘CG’ had also managed to end up
facing towards the roundabout. It took a moment for me to decide
which way up we were, plus avoiding all the tools and bits and pieces
flying around. I flung open the passenger door, the strap and gravity
fortunately stopping it going too far, quickly climbed out onto the
road, put my hands under the side of the car and with a heave had ‘CG’
back on all four wheels with only a minimal amount of oil on the road. I
opened the driver’s door – with difficulty as the side was slightly
damaged – got in, pulled the starter and away we went, back round the
roundabout towards a friends flat to recover. On the other side of the
roundabout a police car was coming up the road. I heard 10 mins later
on the radio that the ‘breathalyser’ had been introduced that day. A
friend told me the following morning that the policemen I’d seen where
testing anything that moved on the roundabout that night!
The tale has a further twist, about 4 years later I was in the Yellow
Lion, behind Liberty’s in London, and conversation turned to Austin
Sevens. A lad recalled the tale of an Austin Seven in Southampton that
had turned over in front of his eye’s late one night, it had happened so
quickly and because he was tired, possibly drunk, he wasn’t sure if it
had really happened. I owned up and said it was me; that ‘CG’
still had the scars, a bent offside front wing and the body creased
above the driver’s door. As the car was parked outside the pub, we all
trooped outside and had a look. A photo of ‘CG’ in the late Ray
Walker’s barn, Camb’s. in 1998 still showed signs of the crease.
Part 5 - String brakes
Summer weekends in Dorset were a regular thing for my social group from
Southampton. We used to meet up regularly on Saturday at the Greyhound,
Corfe Castle, a favourite place to sit outside of at lunchtime. The
Greyhound is on the knuckle of the A351 in the village and is also the
turn-off for the square, you saw motorist’s silly actions as they
approached and passed us by. A lovely spot. I was there recently but
the traffic is more intense and the square doesn't have the casual
parking of the 60's.
‘CG’ was parked facing the front door of the Greyhound, I noticed
something hanging down onto the road, the village bobby also arrived at
that moment and confirmed my observation by saying he thought there was
something, “….not unlike a brake cable, hanging down in two parts from
the front axle, get it fixed lad”. Like today, I did not carry a
vast array of spares and certainly not a front brake cable, but I did
have some string, so under the car and off came the offending cable,
attached the string, suitable greased in chassis gung, front brakes back
in action!
Local bobby came back at about 2.30pm (closing time) and ignoring
evident imbibing, got down and checked the front cable. He remarked on
the surprising availability of Austin Seven spares in the Isle of
Purbeck and then proceeded to sort out yet another ‘incident’ at the
road junction outside the Greyhound.
We set off down the hill, heading for Studland Bay, but unfortunately
the joy of getting away with it and gravity meant ‘CG’s’ speed was
greater than desirable, the traffic stopped and we didn’t. ‘CG’ went
into the back of a car, the driver flew out, kicked his rear bumper and
then declared it hadn’t been so solid for years, got back in the car and
moved off. The local Bobby was still sorting out the problem at the
junction. He did catch up with us the following week in Corfe Castle and
passed some wry comment, but by then I had fitted a new cable from Kirby
Wiske – I still have the invoice.
Part 6 - The bridge
I was a member of a number of Societies during the 60’s, including the
750 MC, and 'CG' enjoyed attending the events and hill climbs. One hill
climb at Bruton in Somerset I recall well. On the A303, near Mere,
‘CG’ was overtaken by a Mini 7 with occupants shouting out abuse to all
and sundry – this never happened in ‘CG’ (o’ yes!). We saw the Mini
parked at the hill climb, bonnet up and fumbling greasy hands unable to
make the car reach the start line, serves you right I thought.
After the meeting ‘CG’ got away sharpish and we were rolling along, when
the Mini again overtook us, ‘CG’ was taking a quieter (but straighter)
back road I thought I knew avoiding both Salisbury and Andover towards
Winchester. I opened it up a bit and pushed ‘CG’ to follow the Mini. I
must have been subconsciously influenced by the Austin Seven specials at
the hill climb and thought if they can do it so can ‘CG’! The road
started to have dips and humps, at one point ‘CG’ came to a bridge
rather fast. In fact far too fast as it was a hump backed bridge, the
springs bottomed and ‘CG’ flew through the air. Her straight-ahead
course was perfectly maintained, unfortunately the road turned sharp
left. ‘CG’ landed on the opposite grass verge (or so it seemed), through
an open gateway and after some initial bumps, along the furrows of a
ploughed field. When a modicum of decorum had returned, the local
farmer was found and ‘CG’ pulled backwards out of the field, muddy,
shaken, but not stirred. ‘CG’ started on the button and we were
off again.
‘CG’ had lost about ½ an hour journey’s time with this little excursion,
so we were surprised to see the Mini about 4 miles further on, parked on
the verge, bonnet up and lots of sad faces and greasy hands again, we
never saw them again. I’m sure ‘CG’ smiled, but then that may have been
because I was driving her slower.
Part 7 – The MoT
When the MoT was first introduced, not every tester was worldly wise,
even if they did have the MoT Testers guidelines to work from. I
know many cars had to be scrapped after many years of faithful service,
once the examiner got underneath and had a look. I well remember the
brown rimmed smooth tyres!
Anyway there was plenty of advice to be had from old timers about
improving the efficiency of the Austin Seven brakes. My friend’s father
had a set of brake drums which he left to rust etc, as he said “special
for police check appointments” and he thought they would be just the job
for the new MoT Test on ‘CG’.
I took ‘CG’ down to my friends house in Southampton, just round the
corner from the testing station, changed the drums over and onto the
test. I was told I could watch. There was nothing wrong physically with
the car, then the tester said he had a young apprentice and he would be
doing the braking test. It was raining, the lad set forth over the
main road and down a side street opposite the garage in full view of us.
The brake lights went on for the foot pedal test and the car stopped,
presumably he read the meter, then set forth again at some speed, now
the hand brake test, the lad must have thought “I’ll give this some
wellie ‘cause hand-brakes ain’t much cop!” ‘CG’ pirouetted 3 times on
the wet road, wheels locked up, without thankfully hitting another
vehicle – there were not many cars parked in side streets in those days.
The apprentice walked back to the garage muttering some Anglo-Saxon
adjectives. I had to go and get the car from where he had left it across
the road, return ‘CG’ to the garage for the final part of the test. ‘CG’
passed OK; the young lad learnt a lesson.
I took ‘CG’ straight back to my friend’s house and swapped the drums
over to something less sensational. In the 10 years I drove ‘CG’, I only
hit 2 other cars because of poor brakes.
Part 8 - Wellingtons
Amazing once you’ve moved to Cornwall the relations that seem able to
crawl out the woodwork and come to visit! My Aunt came from Suffolk to
see me and over dinner, looking at an Austin Seven on the drive,
reminded me of the time I wore wellingtons to drive ‘CG’. Aunt
alleges it was because of the holes in the floor. Now whether I did this
to keep dry or to keep the draughts away from my trouser legs, I’m not
sure. But the occasion was in 1967, driving from Winchester to
Norwich for a job interview and I stayed overnight with Aunt in Bury St
Edmunds – even then I was collecting ‘Brownie Points’ for visiting
family relations.
My current Box Saloon has ‘air’ going up the trouser leg from the
ill-fitting rubber mat to the gearbox. I recall ‘CG’ was often more
basic in floor covering, none, and because of the fumes and draughts
coming in over the flywheel cover area probably accounts for my habit of
driving with the window fully open. As the interview was in
October, there may have been rainwater about and thus wet inside the
car, another joy I seem to recall. I can still drive with
wellingtons on – size 9’s – and even big hiking boots, I don’t know how,
but I seem able to put one foot on one pedal!
Unfortunately ‘CG’ had ignition troubles 6 miles outside Norwich and I
had to leave ‘CG’ in a lay-by and catch a bus into Norwich. 1½
half-hours late, greasy hands and I still got the job. I caught the
train back to Winchester, got a few bits together and the following
weekend, travelled back to find ‘CG’ unsullied, I wonder what chance of
that now, remedied the fault and drove back to Winchester, probably
still with my wellies on.
These little tales by Sandy Croall originally appeared as a series in
CA7C Seven Focus in May 2002, p19; June 2002 p7; July 2002 p24; August
2002 p24; September 2002 p24; October 2002 p22.
‘CG’ returns as WSJ
I had owned ‘CG’ from 1963 and used it as everyday transport around
Southampton, London and Norwich, plus various long excursions including
regular trips to Sheffield to see a nurse!!!! This was until 1970 when
‘CG’ was stripped down, the engine rebored etc, all ready to go to
Somerset and my new job on M5 construction - days of gazumping and Roxy
Music. Unfortunately the car failed the MoT on the king-pins, so it had
to be left in Norwich.
A friend agreed to store the car in a garage until I could return, rent
being sent regularly. In 1974, I returned to the garage in Norwich to
find a block of flats on the site, no car and no friend! The garage
owner had sold the car to cover the rent. Due to a busy time working,
little money, family starting to play havoc, somehow a lost car was not
so important.
Over the years the odd search revealed nothing until late in 1998 when a
search on the Internet found a note for bids on the late Ray Walkers
estate including ‘CG 7241’ in need of restoration. I contacted Ray
Walker's son to be told (correctly) that he could not say who had bought
the car, but they seemed more interested in the number plate than the
car.
Ray's son did give me a list of owners from '74. It seems the garage
owner sold ‘CG’ to a Mr Clark from Cambridgeshire, who taxed it for 4
months only in '75. Ray Walker bought the car on 15th April '76 and
immediately sold it on to Mrs Wright, who left it with Ray Walker to
restore. After a few years, she decided she could not afford a full
restoration and sold it back to Ray Walker in '83 (without it ever
leaving his yard). ‘CG’ languished then until the 1998 auction.
CarMarks of Hull bought ‘CG’ and sold the plate 'CG 7241',
re-registering it as WSJ 455. I think the next owner was Dave Tedham
who sold it in Feb '99 to Kevin Benn. Kevin has done a lot of work on
the car, including a body off chassis refurbishment and tidying up the
bodywork, the engine has clean oil in it and the bores still show traces
of the rebore I did in 1970, only the bottom of the doors have any rust,
but they did in the 60's too.
Kevin sold ‘CG’ on to a George Pool in July 2002 - I was 2 days late
contacting the advert in Classic Car Mart. George did nothing to the car
and sold it to Eddie Hunter, without sending in the V5, tut, tut.
In June 2003, I was looking at a Feb. edition of the Bristol Club
newsletter and spotted Eddie with WSJ 455. I wrote to him straight
away, but heard nothing until beginning October when he rang at about 11
pm. I thanked him for the call and got a first refusal should he want
to sell it?
A couple of weeks later, I had the call, so I called in to see him at
Gloucester on Friday 17th Oct. to view, make an offer and we shook hands
on the deal. I know that it is ‘CG’ because my 1966, 67, 69 and 1970
Beaulieu plaques are still on the bulkhead and a hole I punched through
behind the glove box for a bulb horn.
They say everything happens at once, I wanted to call in to take some
photos on my return via Gloucester to Devizes on the 18th, but the
seller would not be in, so I continued to Devizes to see my ailing
father. He died an hour after I arrived. Imagine what the family would
have thought had I delayed my return to look at "that old car again." A
week after the funeral I collected 'CG ' and ‘CG’ now awaits attention.
Christine has made me promise not to forget CV 9998.
PS, I bought ‘CG’ for £4.4.3½, at a Jazz club in Southampton in 1962, CV
9998 became ours in 2002 through a whisper at the Jazz Club in St Erth,
perhaps I should avoid Jazz?
This little tale by Sandy Croall originally appeared as a series in CA7C
Seven Focus in December 2003 pp12-14
Three Cars and a Lady
As told by Nickel. - The true tale of three baby Austin’s and a
beautiful lady.
“When I was nine my grandmother bought me a book – ‘Danny, Champion of
the World’, in part of which Roald Dahl describes Danny's adventure at
the wheel of a Box saloon - and the idea of owning an Austin Seven stuck
with me...
A little over a year ago, my wife was becoming more aware that her
battle with cancer was drawing close to an end and I'm not the sort who
is comfortable with counselling. She realised I needed an outlet
for my frustrations, so we bought a very tatty but MoT'd Ruby with the
money from selling her car.
A little while after she died, I found the evenings very long and
difficult, especially after I had got our three small children to bed.
The Ruby had been a welcome diversion, and therefore I decided rather
than taking the Ruby off the road, I would get another, do that up, then
whilst using the restored (2nd) car, start on the original one, so I
bought a half restored Ruby - Off the road since the 60's... Then
I saw a Box Saloon advertised with a trailer thrown in for free, and
reasoning that the trailer would be worth about half the asking price to
me - as that was what I was looking to pay for one. But somehow I
ended up with the car but not the trailer. I'm still not quite sure how!
That about explains the three cars...
The beautiful woman... well we met recently and she is in a similar
position to myself, her husband died leaving her with three children as
well, we somehow have found time for each other and it works, but it
looks as if the children will only be able to listen to Roald Dahl's
tales about the Box Saloon, because there won’t be the space or time in
the future for three cars and the Box is the furthest from the road. So
it’ll have to go.
Oh! - The Ruby’s - My first Ruby took up smoking from the starting
handle - and despite trying those Nicorete patches - she wouldn't give
up. So I took out the engine out of the original Ruby and put it
to one side for future attention and replaced it with the engine out of
the semi-restored Ruby. Then I realised it would probably be better
getting rid of the second Ruby, as I was unlikely to find much time for
it... which of course now needed an engine.
Then the beautiful woman said, "Why don’t you just pay to have the Ruby
engine you took out repaired?" - See - she is smart as well as
beautiful! (I want first refusal on the woman, such wisdom!).
From this you can see I no longer have a need for three cars - one will
do, one is all I’ll have time for, just keeping on the road. The Box is
the car I always wanted, but it is furthest from the road, so I think
I'll just have to let it go... The semi-restored Ruby is closer to being
useful and I'm not yet decided what to do with it... but the original
Ruby passed its MoT and runs...”
This little tale by Sandy Croall originally appeared as a series in CA7C
Seven Focus in Jan 2004 p25