Sandie Seward
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Joined: 21 Nov 2005
Posts: 4424
Location: South Essex
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 Posted: Sun Jun 11, 2006 8:37 pm Post subject: Minnie the Minx. |
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Back in the early sixties there were still plenty of pre-war motors about, and I certainly had my share of them. I'd passed my driving test in 1962 and my first car ever was a 1938 Austin Seven Ruby saloon.
But the most interesting, (and the oldest) was a 1933 Hillman Minx Mk1 four door saloon.
I was walking home from town one afternoon and passing by my local garage. Right at the back amidst the rubbish and old oil drums stood this rather anient looking car. I went and had a closer look. The drivers door was unlocked so I got in and sat in the creased brown leather seat. Just then the garage owner put in an appearence and asked if I was interested in buying it. He gave me the spiel about one careful lady owner, (in this case it happened to be true!) so we haggled a bit and eventually agreed on a price including a new set of spark plugs. We arranged that I would collect it the following day.
Next day, there I was all eager to collect my new car. We fitted the fully-charged battery, changed the plugs and found the starting handle under the rear seat. After about five fruitless turns on the handle, the garage owner said,
"Wait a sec, perhaps the ignition settings wrong. I'll have a look."
"Do you mean the choke?" I asked.
"No" ,he replied, " I mean the advance/retard lever on the steering column."
"Oh", I said, totally confused.
He showed me the little lever just above the horn button. It was marked, 'Ad'/'Ret'. It was fully over to the 'Ret' posistion. He moved it to the 'Ad' posistion and told me to have another try on the handle. I did so, and the engine backfired on me. If my thumb had been in the wrong place on the handle, I would have had a broken bone or two. The second swing did the trick and the engine coughed into life emitting clouds of blue oily smoke from the exhaust pipe. The old car soon settled down into a quiet tickover.
"Right you are then, she's all yours, good luck with her," he said with a grin.
I engaged first gear and drove it slowly around to the forecourt, where I put in three gallons of petrol. This brought the fuel gauge to just under the half full marker. The oil pressure needle was shaking so much it was impossible to read, but the ampmeter was showing that there was a good charge, and the temperature gauge seemed to be functioning normally.
I waited for a good sized gap in the traffic, moved out, and slotted in behind a bus. On the mile or so home, the old car seemed to be happy to be moving again. Even the oil gauge had settled down to just a steady blur. When I arrived home, my parents were in, and my father came out to look at my latest car as he always did. When he saw the Minx, for once he seemed lost for words.
"You'll never learn, will you," he said, adding, "whicjh scrapyard did this one come from?"
The car-which I'd nicknamed 'Minnie' and I got used to each other over the next few weeks. She even passed the MOT which in those days was just a rudimentary check of the basics, lights, brakes, steering etc. As long as the lights switched on and off, the brakes stopped you, and the car pointed in the right direction they passed you, (a bit like the old driving test.)
I took a day off work and decieded to drive to visit my Grandmother in Plymouth about a 140 mile trip.
I was on the road by 6am, and took the coastal route from Weymouth along past Abbotsbury and Bridport and onto Lyme Regis. Now if you're not familiar with this part of the country, I should explain that the roads are a mixture of steep hills and sharp corners. They are a test for any car and driver even today. For a 1933 Minx they were quite a challenge indeed.
It took me almost four hours to make the trip to my Nans', including a few stops to let the radiator cool down. We finally made it to the little village on the edge of Dartmoor where my Grandmother lived. arriving just before 11am.
When it was time to head back home, Nan gave me some homemade cakes and filled my thermos with tea. I set off at 5p.m. Minnie fired up on the self-starter as the battery was fully charged, and everything seemed fine for the first few miles. Then, suddenly, the oil pressure gauge plummeted to zero, so I pulled off the road, stopped the engine, and checked the oil level with the dipstick. It read 'Full', so I had to assume that the fault was with the gauge itself. We trundled on, and as we approached Haldon Hill not far from Exeter, the heavens opened and we were caught in a torrential downpour complete with thunder and lightening. It became so dark that I had to switch on the lights. By the time we'd reached the Exeter Bypass the rain was falling remorselessly and the roads were awash with surface water. The rain had started to penetrate the old roof, and the windscreen wipers just couldn't cope, so I decieded to find somewhere off road to sit it out. I feasted on Nan's homemade cakes and drank a couple of cups of tea. The rain lasted another two hours or so. By this time it was getting dark and I still had sixty miles to go before reaching home. With thunder still rumbling in the distance, I started Minnies engine, and switched on the lights, but all I had was sidelights and taillights! No Headlamps!
Can you imagine the journey that ensued? There I was in the dark, in an old car with defunct headlamps, faced with a sixty mile journey over steep hills and along unlit country roads. I used what little traffic there was to help me, trying to keep just ahead of the car behind so that I could benefit from his headlamps and to use his beam for guidence. This worked suprisingly well for a few miles, but as the night wore on the traffic grew less and soon I was on my own. The moon had come out, which helped a little, but salvation came in the shape of one of my firms lorries parked in a laybay. I pulled in behind it and to my relief recognised the driver. I quickly explained the situation to him, and he agreed to drive behind me and follow me home. Using the Bedfords bright lights, we drove in convoy back to my front gate. By now it was two in the morning and had started to rain again. I made him a cup of tea and thanked him for seeing me home safely.
The following day I took Minnie to the garage for a check-up. The rainwater had saturated the old wiring for the headlamps, as part of the loom casing was split. The loom was completely ruined. I had this replaced and substituted a pair of non-standard Austin Headlamps and a pair of Lucus spotlamps. but never again did I venture out in a thunderstorm with Minnie.
Eventually, I exchanged her for a Renault Dauphine and £20, but that, as they say, is another story.
Copywrite: Sandie Seward. 1993. (Story First Published in Jalopy magazine. Issue 20. April 1994.)
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Last edited by Sandie Seward on Tue Apr 17, 2007 10:22 am; edited 1 time in total |
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