The Geologist Abroad

Close but no cigar

2011-12-23T09:48:00.002+10:00

The GT6 won't be home for Christmas. It's close - the doors and hatch are back on - but Joe's struggling with panel gaps around the bonnet. The entire front section of a GT6 is a single clamshell-style assembly, and mine needed a lot of dents to be hammered out.

To start with we need to sort out the bonnet hinges. The whole front end pivots on two bolts as part of an adjustable hinge setup. It's a long time since I took the car apart, so I'll need to dig out some parts manuals and diagrams and work out where the bushes and washers go. At the moment it has a couple of centimetres' play! The rear end of the bonnet is located on the bulkhead with rubber cones and latches and again, it's no use trying to get the alignment right until they're fitted.

The doors and hatch fit very well, with no tweaking required. That was one of the positives about this car - it was worn out, dented and roasted by years parked up in the sun, but none of the outer panels had any significant rust. Only portions of the floor needed replacing. The wings, doors and sills are the same ones on the car when it rolled out of the Triumph factory.

At the moment the Mallard Missile's got its bum in the air. It should settle once the glass, interior and fuel tank are fitted, but US-spec GT6s seem to have sat higher than their UK counterparts. It's already got a 1" lowering block under the spring, and if it doesn't settle down enough with some weight in the back, the spring will need to be reset.

The left front wing's gaps are good, but it needs its cones and latches to push the bottom out a bit.

The bulkhead gap's fairly regular, but the right hand door gap needs to be reduced. Hopefully it'll close up when the bonnet's better located.

My visit to the GT6 was on the way home from two weeks in the Queensland summer sun. Summer up there is also the wet season, so think 36C and thunderstorms. The photo's not been tweaked - green thunder clouds mean hail!

High altitude ice clouds mean it's going to be a clear, hot day. This photo was taken about 9am, when it was already about 30C!

Meanwhile, the Herald's snoozing in the garage. When I started my new job in Brisbane I used it to commute, a daily twenty-mile round trip (the Herald doesn't think in kilometres). Stop-start driving's different to steady cruising on country roads, and after a couple of weeks the diff pinion seal let go. Of course I didn't notice until the diff started whining, on the last banked bend leading onto the Gateway Bridge. Sigh. Fresh oil quietened it a bit but it's obviously not healthy any more. So a new-old-stock crown wheel and pinion, bearings, gaskets and seals are on their way from the UK, along with an alloy case which increases the oil capacity. I'll get it rebuilt by a specialist, to make sure the new gears mesh smoothly. I want the new diff to be as quiet as the old one was.

Green Energy

2011-11-22T19:46:00.001+10:00

After 14 months at the body shop, my GT6 is almost ready to collect. It was delivered in September last year, stripped of paint and showing nearly forty years of accumulated dents and battle scars. Joe's welded up a hole inflicted by a forklift, fitted a new section of bulkhead, a dashboard frame and floor pan, and hammered and shrunk dents from every panel (including the roof!).

Painting the body, though, was delayed by insurance work and a shortage of labour. I haven't been in Mackay in a couple of months, but asked my brother to stop in on his way to the mines. And sitting in the tropical sun, waiting for its doors, was the Mallard Missile.

Word is, it'll be home for Christmas...

All At Sea

2011-11-15T18:01:00.001+10:00

When you think of the beach, you probably think of blue skies, blue seas and waves lapping on long stretches of golden sand. Well, all that's alright I s'pose...

The Kaikoura coast looking northwards. Straight from a tourist brochure...

Moeraki Boulders, on the way back north to Christchurch. Freaky geology anyone?

Manuherikia Arm, Marlborough Sounds.

The Sounds are flooded valleys, with hundreds of hidden bays and inlets, framed by dark, bush-covered hills. One of my favourite places, rain or shine.

Ngakuta Bay, Marlborough Sounds.

Cook Strait. Sometimes one of the most violent stretches of water in the world, but thankfully not today.

Recovery

2011-11-12T17:57:00.001+10:00

I'm originally from Christchurch. A lot of visitors to New Zealand fly in or out through Christchurch, and many have lingered for a day or so to admire buildings and gardens influenced by its nineteenth century English founders. In February this year, Christchurch was made momentarily famous by an earthquake which killed 181 people and levelled large tracts of the central city and eastern suburbs. I flew back for a few days in April, but with most of the inner city cordoned off, I found it hard to get a sense of the scale of destruction. What I could see was incredible. Roads buckled, bridges destroyed, houses falling into the streets. People were keeping calm and carrying on, but remained deeply shocked, and upset anew every time an aftershock rumbled beneath their feet.

Six months on, a cold and hard winter has given way to spring. The ground has quietened if not stilled, and most of the worst damaged buildings have been demolished. I don't want to give the impression that everything's back to normal. Thousands of people have permanently left, and thousands more are in limbo as the government and insurance companies argue over whether and how to repair houses. Entire suburbs built on unstable ground may be bulldozed and turned into parkland. Businesses have migrated to the western suburbs and the traffic is far worse than I remember it. But it felt as though the city was turning a corner.

The last weekend in October was notable because the first small section of the inner city was reopened. A new City Mall had been built from shipping containers, and locals flooded in to see. I was in town after finishing the Rail Trail, so went along as well.

The new City Mall. Most of the buildings lining this section collapsed during the February quake, killing and injuring scores of lunchtime shoppers and workers. It was fitting, then, that this was the first area of the "Red Zone" to be reopened. The containers may be temporary and symbolic, but it felt good to be there.

Lichfield St. Once upon a time, this vacant site housed Fazzaz - part classic car salesroom, part auto museum, part motoring model and magazine shop. And one of my favourite parts of Christchurch.

Clarendon Towers, one of the tallest remaining buildings, was badly damaged and may yet be demolished (or 'deconstructed', a word much in vogue these days).

The Canterbury Provincial Council Buildings, like many late nineteenth century buildings, were built in the Gothic Revival style. And although appearing to have been hewn from the earth itself and strong as the roots of mountains, they crumbled.

The Dux De Lux, a famous bar and restaurant, is part of the Arts Centre. It was famous for brewing its own beer, and brilliant live music. Generations of students have misbehaved here into the small hours (me too!) Hopefully it'll get rebuilt, but the structural damage is apparently far worse than it appears from the outside.

Untouched my a@$e!

The botanic gardens. As in the City Mall, spring has produced a riot of colour.

On yer bike!

2011-11-05T14:38:00.000+10:00

Last month's exciting episode had me finishing a job and driving the Herald back to Brisbane. I negotiated a few weeks break before starting my next job, as some friends had invited me on a re-re-re-cycle of the Otago Rail Trail, back in New Zealand. It was my fourth time on the Trail in about ten years - yes, it really is that good!

I won't dissect the Trail - there are plenty of websites that explain its history and what cyclists face on each section. Instead, I'll tell you why I like it - stunning, ever-changing scenery rolling by, a nice easy trail to ride on, spectacular views from places away from any road access. Silence, apart from the crunch of gravel under your tyres. The smell of wild thyme on sunny hillsides, humming with bees. Great places to stop for an emergency ice cream or beer. Soft beds and big dinners. And best of all, the banter of friends comparing their favourite parts of that day's ride.

The drive south from Christchurch was split into two days so that we could stop at Lake Tekapo. A southerly storm the day before had dumped snow right down to the lake shore.

My new mountain bike. My old bike is now in Brisbane, so I bought another. Chances are, it'll be back to Otago before too long.

Wild thyme, smelling divine.

The Manuherikia Viaduct, ageing gracefully.

Emergency snack attack!

The Poolburn Viaduct.

This good shed was the subject of a famous painting by local artist Grahame Sydney. When the rail line closed it was relocated, but it was eventually returned to Wedderburn. No Rail Trail is complete without a photo of the green shed.

Generations of travellers on the rail line threw apple cores out the carriage window, and now the track is lined with numerous apple trees.

Schist, a rock once baked and twisted kilometres beneath the earth's surface, meets ice clouds twisting kilometres up in a cold Spring sky.

The shape of the landscape causes this lenticular cloud, known as the Taieri Pet.

Homecoming

2011-10-18T07:57:00.005+10:00

Sunday morning in Cania Gorge started with a dawn chorus - magpies, kookaburras and rain birds. I lay in my tent for a while listening to the birdsong. No traffic, voices, just birds.

Eventually I got up, gobbled some porridge and packed up. Somehow the tent, bedroll, folding chair, tool kit, cooker and food all fitted back in the boot. I'd like to take the GT6 camping when its finished, but have no idea how I'll fit all the gear in! We hit the road about 8.30. It's always hard to leave Cania Gorge and I was in no hurry.

The highway on the second day links towns about 80km apart, so there are no gaping voids like the Beef Road. I've lived in mining towns over the last few years, and farming towns are much nicer. Not designed by a 70's urban planner, they have over a hundred years of history and character. Old churches and shop facades, modern businesses, old houses with beautiful gardens, and every second vehicle isn't a Herald-crushing mine-spec 4WD.

About half an hour into the journey, the highway jinked left in a great arcing loop. There is a shorter, straighter route through the tiny town of Abercorn, but it's not obvious. It's narrow and winding and has only been sealed for a few years, but is a great scenic detour, 30-odd km of back-country farm scenes. I don't think we saw another car the whole way.

Once back at the main road, it was onwards and southwards. Well south east, sometimes east, sometimes even north-ish again. The inland highway weaves through hilly country, over passes, through valleys, patches of forest and increasingly green farms. Despite having lived in rural Queensland for five years, the countryside still looks foreign to my eyes. Some patches reminded me of New Zealand, especially where settlers have planted oak, poplar and willow around their houses, but nowhere is the familiar dark green of South Island rainforest, or glimpses of the Southern Alps through a gap in the hills. All things I've seen through Gerald's windscreen on countless road trips.

Some inland areas are used for citrus orchards. I'd taken a photo of Gerald beside Munduberra's giant mandarin on the way north, so took a similar photo beside Gayndah's giant orange.

Australians love making giant models to promote their towns - at least 150 according to Wikipedia: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Australia's_big_things.
Travelling around the country 'bagging' shots of the giant mango, gumboot, crayfish and so on is a respected form of tourism.

The next town south, Goomeri, is special. About a year ago I stopped for a coffee and met a cat sitting outside a shop. I gave her a stroke, and a giant red-bearded head poked out of the shop. "Do you like the cat?" he inquired. "Take the cat. Please". He and his wife had bought a cafe, and it came with a cat. They weren't cat people and so were looking for a home for her. I didn't take Moo that day but exchanged numbers and that evening arranged to travel back up from Brisbane the following weekend with a cat cage. And so we became a two-cat house.

No cats today, thankfully.

Gerald was making such good time that I decided to try a back roads way into Brisbane, over Mt Glorious and Mt Nebo. This road cuts between the enormous Somerset and Wivenhoe reservoirs, and then climbs up switch-backs to over 700m. The temperature was up to 34C by this time, and as we climbed up and up, mostly in second gear, I watched the water rise to 90-odd. Apart from a little mis-firing due to vapourisation, the red beastie behaved well. Only 50 kilometres from Brisbane, this was the hardest it had worked on the whole trip. We paused for breath at a lookout and again at a quirky cafe at Mt Glorious.

After this, it was a quick drive through the Brisbane Forest, which smelt tantalisingly of hops, before descending into what probably passes for light traffic in Brisbane. It was Sunday afternoon, about 4pm as we drove over the Storey Bridge - allegedly built with bits left over from the Sydney Harbour Bridge. And finally Gerald arrived at its new home. I'd bought a house since 2008, when the Herald landed in Brisbane, and this was the first time we'd driven 'home'.

The next morning I gave the car a well-deserved wash and worked out the maths: 721 miles, about 39mpg, and minimal oil and coolant used. I reckon it's up for another adventure.

A wee drive in the country

2011-10-16T18:43:00.004+10:00

After five and a half years working on the Eagle Downs project, I decided it was time for a change of scene. The whole point of being a geologist is to travel and see new rocks, and I'd been staring at the same coal seams since 2006. So I found a new job starting in November, and finished at Eagle Downs on Friday 14th October.

Gerald the Herald came to Moranbah in 2008. The company had provided a house with a huge garage, so the wee red terror was hauled out of storage in New Zealand, shipped to Brisbane and driven north to the Coalfields. I took three days for that journey because the car hadn't been used in several years and I wanted to take it slow in case anything wasn't working properly. As it turned out, Gerald was in rude health and never missed a beat.

Three years on, we were heading south again.

We sneaked out of Moranbah at 0525 on Saturday morning, as I wanted to get as much of the first day's journey out of the way before the heat built up. The sky was already light, and an orange sun rose above the clouds as we passed Eagle Downs. The first part of the drive was slow because of mist, and passing traffic threw up sprays of dirty water. We stopped at Dysart, the first town on the road south so I could clean the windscreen, and then headed out down the Golden Mile Rd.

The most worrying leg of the journey is officially called the "Suttor Developmental Road". but everyone calls it the Beef Road. It's about 250km in total, with no towns, settlements or rest stops. And no phone coverage. Break down on the Beef Road, and you'd better hope someone stops and helps you. As it turned out, the Beef Road section was uneventful. Just boring. The stretch from the Golden Mile Rd intersection to the Capricorn Highway is about 140km, or about an hour and a half at Gerald speeds. No towns, just signs and driveways every few kilometres, leading to farmhouses somewhere over the horizon. We were squeezed off the road by wide loads of mining equipment on its way north, and passed frequent patches of charred bush, burned either by farmers to control scrub, or by lightning. It was with a sense of relief that we reached Dingo. From then, we wouldn't be so isolated.

The Capricorn Highway runs east-west and is just about on the Tropic of Capricorn. We headed east, so the tropics were to our left. They don't look any different to the rest of inland Queensland, just flat or gently rolling brown grasslands, scrubby trees and stands of grey-green eucalypts. It's a landscape that the eye can struggle to focus on simply because there is so little to see. A landscape that only emphasises how big the sky is. After an hour or so, we turned south again onto the "Country Way", the Queensland section of New South Wales' New England Highway, which reaches all the way to the Blue Mountains west of Sydney, about 1500km south.

I was impressed at Gerald's fuel consumption. Half a tank to Dingo was great! Over the next hour though, I saw that the second half was disappearing a lot faster. Maybe the new fuel gauge wasn't as accurate as I'd hoped... so I decided to refuel at the first town, a tiny community called Dululu. Well, that was the plan, but when I got there I found that the service station had closed and the pumps were gone. Fxxk! Down to 1/4 tank now, but we had no choice but to keep going. We eventually found fuel at Jimna. They only had 91, so I put in $10, enough to get to Biloela and fill right up with 96. If we hadn't filled up at Jimna, Gerald would have been down to the last 2 litres!

From Biloela it was an easy drive to Cania Gorge, where I planned to camp for the night. We arrived in plenty of time to set up the tent and then drive down to the dam before doing one of the walks up the side gorges.

Finally it was time to sit back and enjoy a couple of Matilda Bay beers. The late afternoon sun dropped behind the cliffs, leaving clear skies slowly dimming and turning silver-yellow. The smells of damp earth and eucalyptus trees mixed with smoke from a camp fire. After a day of wind and engine noise, the sounds were the quiet conversations of other campers, evening birdsong and the buzz and chirp of insects. It felt as though the world was letting its breath out.

Later, I stood outside the tent in the dark. No wind, the only sounds were music and laughter. The sky was the stage tonight. Clear and bright, Scorpio above us, a satellite cruising past. The horizon flashed constantly with the echoes of lightning far away. No sound, just light, someone else's battle, somewhere outside the Gorge.

Cars don't sleep. They either move or they are silent. That night I dreamt for both of us.

Period accessories

2011-08-28T11:07:00.002+10:00

A few years ago I made a dash-top gauge pod for the Herald. I was never very happy with it though, as it didn't sit properly and the vinyl cover didn't fit very well. Recently I found a period Smiths outside temperature gauge on eBay, and while fitting it, I took the opportunity to improve the gauge pod.

As you can see, I have a thing for period Smiths gauges! The only one you can't see here is the Jaeger Spitfire fuel gauge to the right of the tachometer. Can't think of any others it needs... except maybe a fuel pressure gauge, or maybe overdrive oil pressure, or...
This is the capillary bulb for the outside temperature gauge. The gauge is pretty accurate (amazing considering it's spent about forty years on a shelf), as long as the sun's not shining on it. It's right in front of the pod air filter so I have a good idea of the intake temperature.

I should have cleaned the bugs off the licence plate though!

The other thing I fitted this weekend is a Motorola 114 MW/LW radio from about 1970, which has an accessory input for an iPod. The conversion was done by a chap named Colin, who trades on eBay under the pseudonym "stretch289". The restoration and modification have been beautifully done, the sound quality is rich and static-free, and the radio looks almost brand new. The MW (AM radio to you and me) reception is also noise-free, but sadly the only LW stations broadcasting these days are airport beacons.

The cigarette lighter is a dummy, the socket is for accessories like GPS (if I want to go somewhere other than the nearest airfield, that is!)

In a Holding Pattern

2011-08-09T05:48:00.002+10:00

The GT6 rebuild is being held up on three fronts.

Firstly, I'm waiting for some forged pistons before the engine can get rebuilt. A set of Hepolite .040" pistons is available as an alternative, but I want the forged ones I ordered back when the GT6 arrived. The latest word is that they'll be ready in September.

The bodywork is done, and the tub's waiting for its colour coats. Unfortunately the painter's assistant was one of four guys who decided to build a bomb and take it out to the country to see if it worked, Mythbusters style. It did, just a bit early: http://www.dailymercury.com.au/story/2011/08/09/charged-over-ute-explosion-in-court-after-mates/

He's alright, but has taken time off to recover... and so Joe's various restoration jobs have been put on hold.

Lastly, I haven't heard from the upholsterer for a few months, and as he's 800km away in Brisbane I haven't been able to drop around and check on progress. Time to start phoning methinks...

New England and New South Wales

2011-06-03T21:39:00.004+10:00

After nearly two months of 7-days-a week work I managed to escape and hit the road for a week. It's winter in Australia right now. Up here in Queensland that means cold nights, but the vegetation doesn't change. Grass and gum trees stay pretty much the same! This time I decided to head south to New South Wales, where the winters are colder and changes in the landscape more dramatic. The different climate made for great scenery but cold camping!

I drove down to Sydney via the inland New England Highway, and back to Brisbane along the coastal road - about 1800km in total. While the coast is dotted with holiday resorts and funky getaways, it was the inland towns and rolling hillscapes I want to see more of. Next time I'd like to do the trip more slowly, maybe in a Triumph, and check out the side roads.

Triumph news: the GT6 is still at the body shop, and I've pulled the carbs off the Herald to fit a heat shield (not that it needs it in winter but...). Photos when it's all back together.

GT6 body repair progress

2011-05-21T16:05:00.003+10:00

Good news, Joe is making progress on the GT6 body tub, working through a long list of RHD alterations, rust repairs and old accident damage. He's fixed the creases in the roof which were probably made by someone's backside, and pulled out all the small dents in the rear wings and rear valence. A skim of filler and they'll be ready to paint.

The bulkhead has taken a fair amount of work. Firstly he's spot-welded in the battery box, and temporarily fitted the pedal shelf with self-tapping screws.

Battery box

The most impressive bit of work is where he's moved the recess for the long tandem master brake cylinder from the left hand side to the right. Tandem brakes are a US-spec feature I wanted to keep, but the cylinder's a lot longer than the more common single circuit variety. Job done, and brilliantly executed.

Where the recess used to be

And where it is now

The bulkhead braces haven't been fitted yet, and I found that the position of the new brake cylinder recess means that I'll have to relocate the inboard brace to the left of the clutch cylinder. Doesn't matter, it'll still look stock, and Triumph nutters are far too polite to comment ;-)

The floor patches have also been fitted with self-tappers. I think Joe is planning to overlap the join for added strength, a good thing as the seat will be bolted to the pan here.

Wolfang Peak

2011-05-04T15:54:00.003+10:00

Monday was a James May kind of day: jump in a classic car, roar out to the airfield and putter around for an hour in an old plane. I can't think of a better way to enjoy a public holiday, and the Herald seemed to enjoy the trip as well. At least, nothing fell off...

Trips around rural Queensland always take a while - the round trip to Clermont, the next town, is 152 miles. 152 very bumpy miles, as the road is potholed and rutted by 70-tonne road trains. The flight was much smoother, which is a blessing as the thermals can throw a Cessna around like a paper plate (it weighs less than the Herald).

I stopped on the way back at Wolfang Peak, a volcanic plug left over as part of the Peak Range. Apparently there's a walking track up it!

Airbox, alternator and 'orns

2011-04-28T16:35:00.004+10:00

While the GT6 is at the body shop* the poor Herald has to bear the brunt of my urge to tinker. Over the last couple of weeks the Lucas alternator originally swiped from my old Range Rover has been replaced with a smaller and more powerful Nippon Denso one. The rewiring was simple, and I took the opportunity to fit an alloy alternator mount instead of the cast iron one. I'm not that worried about weight, but the alloy mounts are beautifully made so I though, why not?

Another change has been to replace the pancake K&N filters with an airbox and cold air duct from the front of the car. The car ran better as soon as the pancake filters were removed, so they were obviously restricting airflow. The new airbox is made from half a PI's vacuum tank, so retains some Triumph pedigree! Inside is a pair of 1" trumpets. The duct is 75mm ID, and while corrugated pipe flows less than smooth-walled, I think the size offsets any loss in efficiency. It should be more than adequate for a 1300 engine. The airbox has reduced the old induction roar, which just means that the exhaust sounds louder.

The airbox is absolutely the widest possible - the scratches show where it was catching on the inner arch the first time I closed the bonnet. The offending projections have been removed and it now has about a centimetre clearance. I'll repaint it sometime, and replace the rubber fuel hose between the carbs with a copper line.

The filter is a boy-racer pod style, mounted below the radiator. My Herald's radiator sits a little forward and below the original position to accommodate twin electric fans, so working out how to mount the filter took a few evenings. The design works well but isn't perfect - it'll be a bugger to get out and clean in a year's time. I may have thought up a better design by then...

To squeeze the filter in I had to remove the horns, and will have to make some new brackets to hang them from. One stopped working a few months ago, so I'm on the lookout for a replacement.

*Work has finally started on the GT6 body tub - the doors and bonnet were finished last year. The dents in the wings have been pulled out with Joe's spot-welder-dent-puller, the forklift puncture on the right rear guard flare has been repaired and the aerial hole in the scuttle welded up (I didn't want it). Joe also asked for the rear vent covers - I know I gave them to him last year along with everything else but he swears he's never seen them. Never mind, a replacement pair are on their way from the Spitfire Graveyard.

I didn't think the original door hinges were bad but Joe made a face when he found slight play in the pins. He'll insist on reattaching all the panels and adjusting the panel gaps before returning the car to me, so I decided to do the right thing and get new hinges. Having a perfectionist for a panel guy is a good thing!

Contrasts

2011-04-13T20:16:00.003+10:00

My planned trip back to Christchurch went pretty much as planned. My youngest brother organised a 70th birthday lunch for my father, but Dad didn't know that middle brother and I had flown over from Australia. It was a great afternoon, made better by Dad introducing his fiancee to us all. Surprises all round then!

Conversation naturally gravitated to Christchurch's favourite new topic - the Earthquake (capital E). Everyone has a story, whether they were at home, driving or shopping when the quake hit. As calm as they all seemed, every time the restaurant's front door banged, they all jumped. Maybe some of them always will.

Large areas of Christchurch are untouched, with uninterrupted water, electricity and sewerage. Hardly a crack to see anywhere, all the shops are open and life continues as normal. Meanwhile, residents in eastern suburbs are living in houses which will certainly be condemned when the overworked insurance assessors arrive, have no water or working toilets, and no indication when they will be able to start rebuilding. Their workplaces are sealed by red 'condemned building' notices, no supermarkets are open, and they have to navigate broken roads to the other side of town to buy food and bottles of water.

I only had two days on the ground and little time or desire for rubbernecking. Driving down a few streets and seeing familiar buildings half-collapsed or gone was enough. It doesn't look or feel like home anymore, and the sense of loss is everywhere.

Once out of the city, though, the landscape is the same as ever. And it's autumn, the prettiest time of year. A friend showed me a new walking track in North Canterbury, to an old fire lookout shed overlooking the Balmoral Forest on the Culverden Plains. I've been playing around with HDR photography and the colour contrasts that afternoon were a good opportunity to test 'Photomatix Pro'. Some of the results are a little extreme, but it's fun trying the various processing options!

Two less things to go wrong

2011-03-17T21:26:00.006+10:00

Picture this: you're in your Herald or Spitfire, GT6 or Vitesse. Maybe you're in town weaving around roundabouts and other traffic-calming slaloms, maybe it's Sunday morning and you're out in the country. Suddenly the front of your car slams down to the tarmac and you frantically try to steer to the side of the road, hauling on the wheel to stay away from oncoming traffic. As you sit there in a cloud of dust and hot tar, you realise that you've just joined the Broken Trunnion club.

It's not very exclusive.

A well-known weakness of small Triumphs is in their front suspension. The lower part of the cast iron uprights sits in a brass trunnion, and has a drilling up the centre for oil. It's that drilled section that fatigues and breaks, not the trunnions themselves, and there's rarely any warning. A former New Zealand Warrant of Fitness tester told me that when Heralds and Spitfires were new(ish), testers often had the uprights from cars with wide tyres crack tested. The Broken Trunnion club has been around a long time.

Last year I was lucky enough to get a ride to Prescott with Roy Lacey in his white GT6. His car's well cared for, so I was surprised when he joined the Broken Trunnion club a few months later. Car and owner survived, but the poor GT6 suffered a few dents and scrapes. Ouch!

There are several ways to reduce your chances of joining the Broken Trunnion club. Stripping and inspecting the uprights isn't foolproof, as small cracks and rustpits almost too small to see can act as stress risers. New uprights are available, so you can change them every few years. Another solution is to replace the uprights with Caterham 7 ones. You see, once upon a time, Lotus 7s used Triumph uprights. Caterham bought the rights to build 7s from Lotus, and eventually decided to get out of the Broken Trunnion club. Their solution was to replace the trunnions with a spherical lower joint - the rest of the upright's the same - and as the spherical joint doesn't need oiling, the drilling was eliminated.

A spherical joint kit for Triumphs is sold by Canley Classics.When I heard that Roy's car had broken an upright, I decided to try the new uprights on my Herald, and ordered a kit from Canleys. Just knowing that the car doesn't have a built-in suspension weakness any more, and that it's not going to drop it's nose on the ground, was worth the cost. I finally got around to fitting the new uprights the other day - see below. The red tart is booked in for a wheel alignment on Monday.

I painted the new uprights, and fitted the top joints and wishbones originally destined for the GT6 - that now has adjustable top wishbones instead.

My Herald has Vitesse brakes and front suspension, so Herald conversions may look slightly different. The red brake hose is a special braided version. And yes, I cleaned the surface rust off the brand new stub axles before the hubs went on!

You can never go home

2011-03-11T08:15:00.003+10:00

So sang the Moody Blues.

Nearly five years ago I left my home city of Christchurch to work in Australia. Aussie lacks the South Island's soaring mountains, green plains and roads made for Triumphs, but it does have a booming economy with more jobs and much better pay. So I traded the mental and physical landscapes of New Zealand for the arid farmlands and mines of inland Queensland.

New Zealand is only three or four hours away, though, so when I'm sick of staring at a brown grassy veldt studded with gum trees, cows, crows and Country'n Western, I fly back to Christchurch. The old home town doesn't change much - while I get lost in Brisbane and only drive there when I have to, Christchurch's roads, landmarks and cityscape are engraved on my brain. I know where the best cafes are, my favourite bookshop (Fazazz, Lichfield St), Filadelphio's Pizzas - all great cures for homesickness.

Not now though. In September, as I was flying back to Oz from a week in the Cook Islands, Christchurch was hit by its biggest earthquake in a hundred years. Buildings cracked, residents had to leave homes twisted and condemned, and people counted themselves lucky that in a city thought to be well away from major faults, no one was killed. From Australia it seemed remote and faded from the front pages after a day or so. I was always planning to fly back this April for my father's 70th birthday, and expected that by the time I returned, there would be little evidence of September 2010. Yeah right.

I'm still flying back next month, but it will be to a city vastly different from the one I left five years ago. The world watched on February 22nd as Christchurch was smashed by a second quake. Technically it was an aftershock, an earthquake triggered by September's larger but deeper quake. From the city's perspective though, last year's quake was merely a precursor. February 22nd's was almost as big, but far closer and shallower, and the damage this time was devastating. Buildings that wobbled and cracked last time were utterly destroyed. The oldest and most treasured, many in the centre of town, fell on people sitting outside having lunch, or inside at their desks. Most new buildings survived, but it's hard to retrofit the oldest, most revered heritage buildings to the same standards. And so they tumbled. Stone buttresses and arches, built by settlers from England and Scotland a hundred years ago, feel permanent, as though they've grown from the earth and are as ancient. And yet they shattered like children's building blocks when the earth flexed its muscles.

When I fly back this time it will be to a city slowly knitting its broken bones back together. Crumpled streets, shattered landmarks, the centre still cordoned off, it won't be home anymore. And as new buildings rise to replace those familiar old stone icons, it won't ever be 'home' again.

The Canterbury Provincial Council Building, built between 1858 and 1865 (from The Press)

Back to the Bunyas

2011-02-15T15:00:00.004+10:00

The great Geologist Migration has started! Our drilling program's been stalled since November due to Queensland's rain, floods and a couple of cyclones. After several false starts and setbacks, it's finally looking dry enough to mobilise the troops back north to the Coalfields. About freaking time, the traditional summer in the office was wearing thin.

Instead of doing a monster 1100km one-day drive, I took a couple of extra days and spent a weekend in the Bunya Mountains. You can keep your 5-star B&Bs - when the weather's nice, there's no better way to spend a night than in a snug wee tent under a million stars, with hooting owls providing the soundtrack. I bought along a pair of 80x20 astronomy binoculars, and spent hours each night gazing at the moon, nebulae and star clusters.

The Bunyas aren't mountains in the pointy, Lord Of The Rings sense. The high points are about 1100m, which is enough to give views out to Noosa Heads 130km away, and makes for a cooler climate than the sweltering flatlands to the west. The forest's typical sub-tropical rainforest, with the famous Bunya Pines sticking out the top.

The view west from the Bunyas, looking over the Darling Downs.

I did the long drive on Monday, playing tag with thunderstorms a lot of the way. Each time I thought I'd left the sweeping storm front behind, I'd drive around a hill into another deluge. I half expected to find the whole Coalfields saturated, but the storms quit a few hundred km away. And if they stay away we'll be able to get some work done!

PS The GT6's doors, bonnet, tailgate and front valences are finished, and Joe the Painter is working on the body. It's looking good, pictures coming soon!

The Brisbane flood

2011-01-14T07:10:00.003+10:00

Queensland's summer is also its wet season, so Queenslanders (and I've been here nearly 5 years so I guess I am one) know that summers are warm, wet and humid. Christmas Day will be wet, the grass will grow 6 inches overnight and the barbie will have to be moved under cover. It's normal.

This Christmas was no exception, and Boxing Day was even wetter, so everyone went to the sales! By New Year the weather had cleared, families confined by rain and visiting relatives burst outdoors, and we all enjoyed a few fine days before going back to work.

Well, that was in Brisbane. Further north, massive inland storms dropped huge volumes of water into catchments that are often dry. Town after town flooded, first the scattered inland farming communities, and then larger coastal towns. From Brisbane it seemed academic, a roll-call of towns I've driven through, local landmarks I recognise now surrounded by water, and a lot of places I've only seen on a map. The view's always the same though, swirling brown water, sometimes 15 to 20m above normal, with rooftops poking through like angular islands. Sunburnt locals in shorts surveying their homes from boats or waist-deep water, people living in church halls waiting for the brown, muddy tide to recede. It's easy to say that they should have built on higher ground, but in many areas Australia is dead flat. There isn't high ground, and the waters stretch for kilometres. We watched it all on the news, like disaster tourists.

For Brisbanites, Monday the 10th was the same as any other. It rained off and on. The usual Monday grumbles and tales of weekend escapades were exchanged, we checked our email, drank too much coffee and snuck out early for lunch. We watched the Rain Radar to judge the best time to head for the train station. The view from our office on the tenth floor was interesting - storms inland over the previous few days had turned the Brisbane River brown, and the CityCat ferries had to negotiate floating logs and entire trees washed out of tributaries upstream of the city. Something different.

When we got home that night we turned on the news and saw that some of the storms we'd watched passing Brisbane by had dropped their contents inland and caused massive flash floods in the city of Toowoomba, up on the plateau of the Great Dividing Range. Buildings washed away, streets scoured of cars, people killed. Downstream in the valleys, the water had been funnelled through communities, washing motorists off the highway, demolishing homes and leaving dozens missing. One couple had been swept out of their kitchen while having lunch and drowned. The disaster tourism was getting closer.

The destruction in the Lockyer Valley was the only topic of conversation at work on Tuesday. We marvelled at the amount of debris floating past our office. Was that a fridge or a washing machine? There went a table, there a fully grown gum tree, right through the heart of the city. Yachts were heading downstream in ones and twos, and late morning, both of the paddle steamers which moor at the Eagle Street Pier undocked and headed downriver. Paddle steamers are slow, graceful ladies usually seen splashing up and down the central reach of the river, their decks sprinkled with well-dressed urbanites clutching drinks, a genteel wisp of smoke from their stacks. Not today - they charged down the river like racing hippopotami, heeling over as they rounded the bend under the Story Bridge and vanished around the headland of Kangaroo Point. It was like seeing your great aunt strapping on roller blades and carving up the kiddies! Mental note - paddle steamers not always slow.

By lunchtime a rumour went around that many buildings in the CBD were closing early and workers being sent home. The river was rising, it was still raining, and authorities feared that if roads were cut, people might not be able to get home later in the day. The resulting traffic jam was amazing, worse than normal morning rush hour as the city discharged its own metal flood, a wave of commuters bent on reaching the safety of their homes. I stayed until mid-afternoon, not out of bravado but because I knew my route home would be fine, and because I didn't want to jump into the melee on the streets. By 2pm it was all over, the cars were gone and the city was as quiet as a Sunday afternoon.

Before catching a train home, I wandered along the river and through the botanic gardens. The river was higher than I'd seen it, covering walkways I use most mornings and roaring past the bridges. Restaurants were stacking tables, shops were lifting stock and the city was going into lockdown. Once home, I went to the supermarket and stocked up on cat food, milk, eggs, cheese, pasta and vegetables. The most important, of course, was cat food - I didn't fancy being housebound with hungry, nagging cats!

Disaster averted? Wednesday was fine. No rain, just blue skies and a gentle breeze. If you didn't turn on the tellie you'd never know anything was wrong with the world. If you did turn it on, though, it didn't matter which channel you chose. They all showed shots of a rising brown river, people sandbagging their houses and moving possessions upstairs, interspersed with shocking footage of the devastation left behind in the Lockyer Valley and Toowoomba. The death toll was constantly revised like some bizarre sports score - 10 dead and 51 missing, then 12 dead and 90 unaccounted for, and so on. The Premier was constantly on our screens, in turn reassuring and then and warning us to stay in our homes if they were out of the predicted flood path, or to get out if we thought we were in danger. Outside it was peaceful and sunny, people mowed lawns and hung out washing. The perfect day for a natural disaster, or housework if you didn't watch the TV.

The flood peaked on Thursday, accompanied by a crescendo of media coverage from reporters thigh deep in still, brown streets, reporters in evacuation centres, reporters in helicopters. Disaster tourism had come to town. The river's peak had been slightly lower than predicted, but thousands of houses were filled with water and thousands of Brisbanites were living out of suitcases. There was little bitterness evident on TV, as most people either accepted the inevitable or talked of rebuilding.

After lunch I jumped on a bike and did what so many others had done, went down to the river. Unsurprisingly it was just as seen on TV, but being there, watching for minute after minute as debris surged downstream - there a table, there a plastic barrel - made it far more immediate. TV chops disasters into 10 second scenes and soundbites, with disjointed images of people, buildings, destruction. Just sitting and watching the power of the river, marvelling at its speed and size, listening to the gush and gurgle, smelling the silt and sulphur in the air, gave it a life and character that shots from 2000 feet couldn't bring to life. I might have sat there for half an hour, just watching, listening, smelling.

I took the long way home, past streets filled with water and cordoned off, houses sandbagged against waters that in some cases didn't reach as high as estimated, or past front gardens three foot deep with water. Oxford Street in Bulimba, one of the city's most flood-prone suburbs, was dry and open for business as normal. The cafes and restaurants were filled with people, the cinema was open, and if you ignored the discarded, unused sandbags around doorways and a hovering helicopter, it was a normal sunny summer afternoon. Two streets away, meanwhile, houses had a foot of water through them. Disaster tour and then a coffee, anyone?

Overcharging

2010-11-20T14:57:00.001+10:00

Took the Herald for a blast the other day. As it lives in a small town and the next settlement is 70km away, most trips are only to the supermarket or hardware shop. That's not far enough to warm it properly, so every week or so I take it out of town and make damned sure it is warmed properly! In overdrive it'll do 90mph, at which point the handling gets light and wobbly. Hypothetically, officer...

When we went out last week we got caught in a rain shower, the first time it's seen rain in a while. I noticed that the wipers were two-speed, which seemed funny because they're not. Every minute or so they started flapping much faster, sadly not always timed to moments of heavier downpour. Eventually I thought to look at the voltmeter and sure enough, when the wipers speed up the meter reads 15V; when they slow to normal speed the volts are back to 12V or so.

So it looks like the alternator's regulator is on the way out. Pity, it's an A115 off my old Range Rover, and copes with two electric fans plus 100W high beam headlights. I'll see what state the GT6's alternator is in, but it won't have the same output.

Another perspective

2010-11-12T17:52:00.002+10:00

A common way of spanning the huge distances of rural Australia is to fly - a trip that could take all day by car can be made in a couple of hours by air. One of my friends used to work on Thursday Island, off the tip of Cape York, and this week, one of his old "TI" mates dropped in for a beer. And as he happened to drop in by Cessna, he offered us a ride the next day, to have a look at our coal project from the air.

Our project, Eagle Downs, lies just east of BMA's huge Peak Downs mine. It takes about twenty minutes to drive past Peak Downs, and from the air it's even bigger.

We buzzed one of our drill rigs - these drill down several hundred metres to produce samples of the coal seams for testing, and make sure they're where they're supposed to be. The driller spotted us, but his offsiders were busy chin-wagging.

Karl gave Dave a lesson in lining up on the runway - it's not as easy as it looks with a cross-wind!

Vents

2010-10-29T15:15:00.003+10:00

I stuck my nose into Pace's Paint Shop on Tuesday to see how the GT6 was progressing. And progress is being made! Joe's cut out the wing vents, and is in the process of wire-rolling the edges to make a strong opening.

Triumph cut wing vents in their Le Mans Spitfires to improve air flow through the engine bay. The theory is that it's easier for the air to escape out the sides than squeeze between the sump and chassis rails, or along the gearbox. Cars tend to have higher pressure underneath than on top, so a lot of the warm air coming through the radiator is trapped. Race cars sometimes use NACA-style ducts to help extract the air - I haven't shaped my vents the same way because I wanted a similar look as the Le Mans Spitties. They're pretty large, though, so I figure the air will get out just fine!

Joe hopes to start mixing colours in a couple of weeks. Can't wait to see how it looks.

Painting has begun

2010-09-14T19:40:00.003+10:00

Joe Pace, the painter, has been busy on the GT6. He and his lads have removed the body from the chassis again to prevent overspray getting on the wheels, chassis rails and suspension, and made a subframe to move it around. The body, already stripped and sanded, has been lightly sandblasted to remove any remaining paint. They also blasted the underside of the bonnet, the one area I didn't have time to strip the paint off. Everything's been primed to stop the exposed metal rusting in Mackay's humid, tropical climate.

That's where it's up to at the moment. It'll take a couple of days work to beat out the dents and weld in new panels, before it can be painted. At the moment there are several other jobs in the shop - where it sits in the queue, I don't know.

The Island at the End of the World

2010-09-05T12:16:00.007+10:00

This week's episode comes from the island of Rarotonga, in the Cook Islands. Surrounded on all sides by the Pacific, Raro's about four hours' flight northeast of New Zealand, a microcosm that feels a million miles from the rest of the world. All the way to the horizon is nothing but sea and the occasional humpback whale. It's ringed by coral lagoons full of beautiful fish, and the main dangers are sunburn and falling coconuts. And for a Kiwi, it feels almost like home - New Zealand Maori migrated from Rarotonga about 700 years ago, and the language and culture are very similar.

Firstly, the locals. There are about 13,000 of them, but the population's declining as successive generations of Islanders move to New Zealand, which acts as a big brother and mentor to the Cooks. There are about 50,000 Cook Islanders living in NZ, making South Auckland the largest island! Cook Islanders have New Zealand passports, and they use the NZ dollar, although the islands have their own coins as well. To judge by the smiles and health of the locals, the island's a pretty good place to live, with none of the grinding poverty of many third-world countries. Dental care looks better than Queensland!

Tourism has boomed in recent years, and is now the mainstay of the islands. In a country where everything except basic produce has to be imported - vehicles, fuel, building materials, even the paper the local news is printed on - bums on plane seats are a vital source of income. A major advantage is cheapness - only a few hours flight from Auckland, a trip to Rarotonga is about the cheapest way for Australians and New Zealanders to visit somewhere foreign, yet comfortable and familiar. It's family-friendly, with most visitors arriving as couples or with children. If your idea of a holiday is resorts, bar-hopping and nightclubs, look elsewhere! And the line between locals and tourists is blurred, as Islanders move between the Cooks and NZ, and a fair few Kiwis sell up and settle in the Islands. I met ex-Kiwis running a hydroponics farm, and brewery, both completely adapted to 'island time', that relaxed pace of life dictated by the length of day, weather and temperature.

The islanders have a fairly relaxed view of safety. Kids ride on the back of pickups or in trailers, enjoying the wonderfully cool breeze, but most people, locals and tourists alike, blat about on scooters. The police recommend helmets (to promote helmets, the Avarua police station has a photo of an dead islander with a major head injury), but they aren't compulsory (like life jackets, seat belts) so the visitors cast caution to the winds and tear around just like the locals, shirt flapping and sandalled toes poking out the sides. About half a dozen people are killed on the island's roads every year despite the 50km/h limit due to head injuries, so paradise isn't as idyllic and risk free as it seems. I was sure to wear a helmet on my scooter. When the nearest neurosurgeon's a four hour flight away, survival chances are reduced. But in general, people seemed to take a sensible attitude to risk, which, coming from a highly legislated industry, I found refreshing.

One of the most common questions the locals ask is "how many times have you been here?" First-timers universally vow to return. Me too - we're already planning next year's adventures. If you want to be reminded that there's more to life than your next pay review, Rarotonga is the place to visit.

PS Geology? Rarotonga's made up of volcanic rocks and coral. I spent most of my time lying face-down in a lagoon looking at coral ;-)

Got the blues (or is it greens?)

2010-08-16T17:58:00.003+10:00

One of the biggest parts of a car's restoration, and one that has a huge impact on its finished appearance, is the paint job. Car painting is one of those jobs where skill, practice and experience are all-important. I painted my red Herald 13/60 and my Grandfather's Avenger, and although the results in both cases are OK, they're not exactly show quality. Both have orange peel, and when the Australian authorities water blasted the Herald upon import, a small section of paint came away!

This time, I decided to stump up the cash, and get the GT6 painted in 2-pack by a professional. To keep costs down I've spent the last few weeks stripping all the paint off myself. It's a slow, painstaking but oddly satisfying job - that way I get to see all the old dents and repairs, and in a funny way it's a bonding process. I can honestly say that I know every square inch and curve of the car now, from its slightly squished nose to rounded hips and tapering tail, having stripped and sanded from one end to the other.

One use for a mine-spec V8 Landcruiser!

This morning I winched the bare, gleaming silver shell onto a trailer and towed it to the painter, 200km away in Mackay. We stopped a few times to check the ropes, and I was thankful Triumph provided tie-down points at the back of the chassis - very convenient :-) I've given the painter a list of all the repairs required, parts like the replacement floorpan and dashboard frame to weld in, and a touch-up pot of Mallard (106) to match the paint to. The next time I see it, it should be blue, or green. Whatever Mallard is!

And now I'm left with an empty garage for at least the next month :-(

It looks like a car again!

2010-08-07T11:13:00.002+10:00

A couple of hours work this morning saw the body tub refitted to the chassis. It took a while to get all the rubber washers in place between the chassis and tub, but with the aid of a ratchet tie-down all the holes lined up perfectly.

When I rebuilt my Herald I solid-mounted the shell to the chassis, having read that it increased the car's rigidity. The only effect I could see was to make the body creak over uneven surfaces. One day I'll take the wee red monster apart again and do it properly.

The next step will be to remove the last of the paint and filler before it goes to the panel shop, possibly as early as next week. Now I can roll it in and out of the garage, it'll only take a few hours to get it completely clean using a wire brush on an angle grinder. The bonnet will take longer, as stripping the underside back to bare metal looks like a real pain, especially in the front corners. Fortunately it's so dry here in the winter that bare steel doesn't seem to rust, even after months exposed to the air. A change from New Zealand!

Rolling

2010-08-06T12:11:00.003+10:00

The GT6 finally has a rolling chassis, and I had fun this morning pushing it around in the sun for photos.

The 'tail' is the breather hose for the diff, which will connect to an overflow reservoir under the boot boards. Looks kinds cute though :-)

One tweak fitted last night is a pair of Canley Classics' top wishbones, to try and pull the tops of the wheels in and reduce the need for flaring the front arches (we'll see how much difference they make). The wishbones' welding looks neat, they're well powdercoated, and the ball joints are able to accommodate the full range of suspension travel. Hopefully the certifier will like them too... The front camber has been set to 1.5 degrees negative at a target ride height of 115mm clearance under the front chassis rail, the same as my Herald.

The body will be refitted tonight. Should be easier than a Herald, as it doesn't have a separate bulkhead to align.

The Last Adventure

2010-06-26T16:59:00.007+10:00

If restoring a ship like the SS Great Britain is too large a task, how about building a steam engine from scratch?

My favourite Top Gear episode is the "1949" race from London and Edinburgh between an XK120 Jaguar, Vincent Black Shadow motorcycle and a steam engine. Later, I was amazed to learn that the steam engine Jeremy Clarkson rode in was only a year old. A one year old steam engine, not lovingly restored from rusting iron but built from original blueprints! Her name is Tornado.

When I was planning my expedition to the UK, I found that Tornado was running from Liverpool St Station to Norwich and back a couple of days before I was due to fly home. The trip had already involved planes, trains, Triumphs, boats, so why not a steam train as well?

Our departure from Liverpool St could best be described as controlled chaos, with passengers vying for platform room with spectators. Once in the right carriages and settled, we watched as billows of steam and smoke wafted up, becoming trapped under the vaulted, Victorian roof of the station. No one seemed to mind though, apart from the pigeons. And then, after relayed whistles and the slamming of carriage doors, Tornado woke up. She let out a series of shrieks, shuddered and began to move. We all had our heads out the windows to watch the platform and bystanders slide past, and listened to the chuffs, hisses and mechanical snufflings as she pulled away and slowly gathered pace.

And so, on a bright Spring morning in late May, we set out across Essex and Norfolk. All along the route - about 280 miles! - people were standing at stations, level crossings, overbridges, in back yards and on ladders. Thousands of people, drawn by the magic of steam, waving and taking photos from the most obscure spots. Onboard, the ride was beautifully smooth, and she sat at about 70mph for longs stretches. Apart from the steam whistle, a quiet chuffing was the only reminder that we were being pulled by a machine fired by coal and not electricity. Errr, until I stuck my head out the window and got a face full of soot while trying to photograph the big green monster!

We were greeted at Norwich train station by crowds wanting to see Tornado on her first trip to the city. After slipping past the police and barricades, we wandered off into the town centre for a late lunch. I found a delightful if worryingly named pub called "The Murderer's Arms", and set about testing the local ales. They passed. After a wander around town and a ten-minute tour of Norwich Castle, it was back to the train for the return journey.

Even as the sun set over green fields, the train was waved on by clusters of onlookers. Eventually the sun set, and we pulled into Liverpool St around nine o'clock.

Sunset on the way back to London

The engine crew after a day in the cab

Liverpool Station, resting.

Background:
The Peppercorn locos were named after their designer, Arthur Peppercorn. Forty nine were built in 1948-49, but the age of diesel rendered them redundant, and the last, 60145 'Saint Mungo', was melted down in 1966. However, the blueprints were saved, and the project to recreate a missing link in the history of British steam started in 1990. 60163 Tornado, named after the RAF jets, was completed in 2008.

The A1 Locomotive trust is at www.a1steam.com

The Ultimate Restoration

2010-06-22T14:36:00.005+10:00

The idea of restoring cars has always appealed to me. Finding an abandoned, unloved car (preferably in a dry, dusty barn, without much rust please), towing it home, taking it apart, replacing the worn out parts and putting it back on the road with a shiny new paint job and new interior. The satisfaction of rebuilding something from an earlier era, feeling it come alive again and moving under your hands.

Imagine, then, the amount of work in taking a ship that's lain on its side on a windswept South Atlantic coastline for over thirty years, patching the rust holes and cracks in its hull, towing it across the Atlantic on a barge, and finally floating it up the river it first sailed down more than a hundred and twenty years before. And then setting about restoring it to its former glory.

In short, that's the story of Brunel's SS Great Britain.

Launched in 1843, the Great Britain is famous for several things. The largest ship in the world when launched, the first iron-hulled, propellor-drive steamship, she was a marvel of the Victoria era, and sent at least one owner bankrupt as engineers tweaked her design. She sailed 32 times around the world in forty years, carried thousands of settlers to Australia before ending her sailing days in the Falklands. As amazing as that history is - and consider that the economic life of modern ships is about 20 years - it's her second life that impressed me far more.

After 40 years as a floating warehouse in Port Stanley, the Great Britain was eventually beached in 1937. Holes were knocked in her hull to ensure she didn't float away, and there she lay until 1970. Then, a British salvage team repaired her hull, floated her onto a pontoon barge and towed her back to her home port of Bristol. There, she was returned to the water and floated up the Avon to the dry dock she was built in, 126 years before.

At first, the salvage team planned to restore the ship to her original, 1843 specification. However, over time the plans changed, and today's emphasis is on preserving what was left in 1970, with partial restoration of some crew and passenger areas. As you walk around her hull in the dry dock, you can see the holes knocked in the hull in 1937, fibreglass patches applied in 1970, and repairs carried out over her long life. The air of the dock is dehumidified to prevent further rust, and a glass roof seals the hull off from the sky.

Inside, you get a sense of what it must have been like to sail in her. Many of the state rooms, kitchen, cabins, storage spaces and public areas have been recreated. You can smell the tar on deck and food cooking below, and watch a replica of her first engine turning lazily.

She'll never sail again, but I think Brunel would be pleased at how his creation is being looked after, 167 years on.

Coalbrookdale

2010-06-21T08:50:00.003+10:00

Coalbrookdale, near Birmingham, is where the Industrial Revolution started. In 1709, Abraham Darby built an iron smelter which used coke from coal, rather than wood char. He wasn't the first to attempt this, but previous attempts to use coal failed, possibly because a good coking coal has specific characteristics - volatile matter, sulphur content, rank, swell and so on - and earlier attempts had used the wrong sort of coal. Coalbrookdale's coal was the right sort.

Darby died in 1717, but the process was refined throughout the 18th century. Previously iron had been expensive, as wood char manufacture was labour intensive and required a lot of wood to smelt a small amount of iron. The adoption of coal, however, meant that iron could be produced in large quantities. What followed were railroads, steam power, large factories and the growth of major population centres. Coalbrookdale became a town of workers' cottages, clanking railroads, coal smoke and the night time glow of furnaces and forges that never cooled.

"Coalbrookdale by Night", by Philip James de Loutherbourg, 1801

As a demonstration of the uses of iron, Darby's grandson Abraham Darby III built an iron bridge across the river Severn at Coalbrookdale. Finished in 1779, it was a marvel of the age, and a demonstration of Britain's burgeoning engineering prowess.

On the way back to Telford after Prescott, Roy made a quick diversion to Ironbridge Gorge and showed me what a centre of industry looks like a century after the fires have gone out. The river's clean, flowing slowly between green banks, and the old workers' houses and coach inns have become cafes and trendy restaurants. On a warm Sunday afternoon, Coalbrookdale was a green and brick, post-industrial haven.

Prescott Hillclimb

2010-06-19T13:31:00.006+10:00

Maybe the highlight of the whole UK trip was the 'Standard Triumph Marque Day' at the Bugatti Club's Prescott Hillclimb. I figured that the best way to attend was either to stay in a town nearby and hire a car (and hide it around the corner), or find a Triumph with a spare seat and beg a ride. As it happened, Roy Lacey from Club Triumph invited me to ride along in his Mk1 GT6 on the customary GT6 convoy, or "Royvoy". Score! I met Roy and another GT6 owner, Tim (bestquality03) the night before for a BBQ. Tim's Mk3 is Mallard, a colour I was thinking of using, and I wanted to see what it looked like in the metal. Very nice, as it turns out.

Tim's Mallard GT6 Mk3

The Royvoy left Telford around 7am, collecting assorted GT6s as we headed south to Prescott. The weather was beautiful, roads almost empty and we were able to set a fast pace. Up until this point most of my trips in the UK had been by train, so my impression of England had been a country of back yards, vegetable gardens, allotments and jumble piles. Now I got to see the public faces of towns and villages. And England on a sunny, quiet Sunday morning was idyllic. Green fields, trees hanging over the roads, and rural roads winding between stone walls, all made for a great drive. Triumphs really were built for trips like that.

The Royvoy at a meeting point

Hugh Nicols and his graphic GT.

Roy got me to navigate to several rendezvous points. This was brave considering I had to figure out his GPS on the fly, work out road terminology (A & B roads for instance) and divine the intentions of town planners. Despite a few mis-directions, we managed to meet everyone, and then to find Prescott itself, nestled in rolling hills and accessed by a bewildering array of narrow rural roads.

Follow the leader

There must have been several hundred Triumphs at Prescott, and the queues while we were directed to a car park gave everyone a few worried moments as temperatures rose. We saw 95C at one point, and a nearby saloon registered its displeasure by boiling over. As my GT6 will have to cope with much higher temperatures, I made a note to think seriously about cooling!

Bruce's GT6 convertible

The format of the hillclimb itself was simple. After a briefing, we queued up for the first of two runs allocated to each car. Marshals send the cars up at about 30 second intervals. The runs weren't timed, as this was expressly not a competitive event. This didn't mean that most people didn't give it the beans, and for most of the day the hillside rang to the distinctive sounds of 4, 6 and 8 cylinder Triumphs. Later on, sitting under a tree, we marvelled at how different even the 6 cylinder Triumphs - GT6s, Vitesses, TRs and saloons - sounded from each other. A supercharged Stag had maybe the most distinctive engine note, a singing V8 with the whistle of a supercharger as it accelerated out of the hairpin.

A Stag V8 with EFI, supercharger, and a marvellous soundtrack.

Roy waiting for his second run up the hill, as seen from Tim's GT6.

I spent a lot of time wandering around, looking at trade stalls such as Rimmer Brothers and Maynard Engine Reconditoners, talking to a people I recognised from the Club Triumph and Sideways fora, and going for a brief demonstration ride with Gareth Thomas in a Spitfire whose engine he built for a customer. His engines stay together, I'll give him that.

Gareth Thomas

At the end of a truly memorable day, the Telford contingent of the Royvoy headed north again. We stopped for a quick pint at a pub we'd spotted on the way down, managed to lose Hugh on the way, and Roy showed me around Coalbrookdale (very geological) before dropping me off at my hotel.

All that's a long-winded account of a great day in the life, and yet feels like a quick skim of the highlights. The English Triumph enthusiasts are very lucky, to have each other to lend a hand and advice, lots of great events like Prescott to attend, and some great roads to drive on a Sunday morning. Thanks especially to Roy and Jules for making me feel welcome, a yummy BBQ and a trip to remember.

A proper racing interior - John Davies' Vitesse

A pretty TR3A

A pre-war Dolomite

Jigsaw racing's ADU 1B, a recreated works Spitfire.

Leavings

2010-06-15T05:33:00.006+10:00

We bade farewell to Skye on an overcast, grey day. This time we used the Skye Bridge, rather than the ferry at Glenelg. The concrete bridge was apparently designed to imitate the arching form of seagulls' wings, but I was a bit disappointed - thirty seconds and you're back on the mainland. As convenient as the bridge no doubt is to locals, crossing the narrow strait by ferry felt a much more auspicious way of travelling.

Not far up the long arm of Loch Alsh is the famous castle, Eilean Donan. Its long history is summarised here: http://www.eileandonancastle.com/visitor-information/history.htm. Needless to say, the castle has changed many times since the first fortifications were built in the thirteenth century. The current incarnation is the result of a twenty-year restoration completed in 1932. Like Castle Stalker, Eilean Donan featured in some exterior shots of Highlander - there's a photo of a scene with Christopher Lambert in one bedroom!

Our next stop on the road back to Edinburgh was the Thomas Telford bridge at Invermoriston.

This was one of the few chances we had to walk in a forest. I've been in lots of different types of forests, from thick and dark New Zealand bush, resin-scented pine plantations, Australian tropical jungles to dryland savannah. The open, light Scottish deciduous forest, with light green leaves and beams of sunlight picking out a path through the leaf litter, was one of the prettiest.

Lunch was in Fort Augustus, at the head of Loch Ness. We'd just sat down to bowls of steaming Cullen Skink (smoked fish chowder, no lizards) when an RAF Tornado flew over. It looked to be at treetop level but was probably about 200 feet off the deck. Something different for the hordes of tourists, anyway.

Last stop was at the Falls of Bruar. The "Walk Highlands" website calls it a strenuous walk (http://www.walkhighlands.co.uk/perthshire/falls-of-bruar.shtml)... err not really. But it is pretty. Plantations of ash and fir were planted at the suggestion of Robbie Burns, and the falls are crossed by a stone bridge that fits into the landscape so well that it fooled the geologist for a second or two.

And so ended our trip to Scotland. I want to return one day, to see more of the west coast, the bits of Skye that were shrouded in cloud, the Outer Hebrides and Orkney. In the meantime, it was south to England again, for the next (and most anticipated) part of the holiday.

Skye

2010-06-13T09:40:00.006+10:00

A common saying is Scotland is that if you don't like the weather, wait ten minutes. For most of my time in Scotland this was true, we saw everything from driving rain to beautiful blue skies, often only a few minutes apart. Skye was an exception to this, as it was cloudy almost the whole time we were there. I can say that I've seen the bottom 300 feet of Skye, but I'll have to go back to see the rest.

Waiting for the ferry at Glenelg, looking across towards Skye.

The mists added an air of mystery though. Shapes half-seen loomed over the road, like giants ready to snatch us away. One highlight was the Fairy Glen near Uig. For the geologists, it's an ancient landslide, since remodelled by glaciation. For the romantics, it's the home of fairies. Both generous and capricious, they can steal you away or grant wishes.

The Fairy Glen contains the remains of several buildings and stone walls. On a cold, misty morning it was easy to believe that the crofters had been stolen away to the land of the fairies, where a century passes in a day. If they come back, they'll get a surprise!

Near the Fairy Glen, we visited a restored Black House, an example of the buildings farmers lived in for centuries. The walls are dry stone, packed with earth, the roof is thatch and the floor bare earth. On a cold and damp day, warmed only by a peat fire burning in the middle of the room, the house showed how hard life must have been for farmers on the edge of the world.

In contrast to the Black House, we stayed in the thoroughly warm and welcoming town of Portree. If you're going, I can recommend the Caledonian Hotel. Portree has a nice combination of rustic charm, good pubs and very nice restaurants. I felt a bit shabby in one! Even the fish and chips were superb, sitting on a stone wall overlooking the harbour.

I've posted this picture before, but without an explanation. Kilt Rock, north of Portree, is an early Tertiary dolerite sill intruding Jurassic sediments. Like Staffa it has columnar jointing due to slow cooling, which gives it a kilt-like appearance.

Staffa

2010-06-11T13:07:00.005+10:00

The island of Staffa lies to the west of Mull, about an hour's boat ride from the better known island of Iona. Iona has a small village, sandy beach and is best known for its abbey, where St Columba established a community in 563AD. Staffa, on the other hand, is a much wilder place, and a must-see for the wandering geologist.

The geology of Staffa consists of three layers of volcanic deposits. The base is unremarkable, a black lava with airfall deposits (tuff). The middle, and most spectacular layer of lava has cooled to form columnar joints. These joints commonly form in slowly cooling lava, but Staffa's are the best I've come across, and in places are 20-30m high. The columns form perpendicular to the top surface of the lava flow; where the lava is thick and forms domes, the columns radiate outwards. The top layer of basalt is similar to the basal layer and lacks columns, but has protected the columns from erosion.

Staffa is also famous for Fingal's Cave, a large sea cave on the southern side. It was made famous by Sir Joseph Banks, and has been visited by the composer Felix Mendelssohn, Queen Victoria and many others.

We were told that in the seventeenth century, up to six families lived on Staffa, but the last left (or were blown off) by about 1800. Today the island's covered in grass and spring flowers, and the only sign of human visitation is the ruin of a nineteenth century visitors' shelter. On a fine day it was idyllic, but in a cold North Atlantic winter it must have been a bleak purgatory.

More holiday snapshots

2010-06-09T18:37:00.004+10:00

The Standing Stones of Kilmartin Glen:

The Glenfinnan viaduct at the head of Loch Shiel - as seen in Harry Potter. No flying cars today though.

Castle Stalker, as seen in Highlander:

Glencoe:

A fishing boat in Oban harbour:

Oban harbour at dawn - jetlag pays off!

Dunollie Castle - a 'fixer-upper':

The only thing better than touring Scotland in Spring, I've decided, would be touring Scotland in Spring in an open-topped Triumph. On the trip we saw a red TR5 in Callander, a Spitfire and Stag on Skye and numerous other open topped cars, all top down and enjoying an often bracing Scottish climate. Respect!

Tasting Notes

2010-06-07T04:14:00.007+10:00

Kilchoman was a good introduction to Islay Scotch. The distillery was founded founded in 2005 - the other seven distilleries on the island have been making Scotch for over a century. Kilchoman are also the smallest distillery on Islay, so you won't find their whiskies in Duty Free. Referred to as a 'farm distillery', Kilchoman uses locally sourced barley rather than importing it from Scotland.

Despite their limited time in barrels, their "Spring" and "Autumn" bottlings were fruity more than smokey, and subtly different. the Autumn is long since sold out, but their next Spring will be worth hunting down. (http://www.kilchomandistillery.com)

The next distillery on the tour was Bruichladdich (http://www.bruichladdich.com). Founded in 1881, the distillery has had a checkered past, closing several times, most recently from 1994 to 2000. The distillery has been refurbished, and the Victorian buildings have been transformed from dingy warehouses to a freshly painted showcase distillery.

And the Scotch? Their range is vast (amazingly so for what is still a small distillery by world standards) so we only got to try a few varieties. My favourite was the 17 year-old Rum Cask. We also tried 'Octomore', named after a local farm. Several distilleries claim that their whiskies are the smokiest, but Octomore would have to be the smokiest by far. I didn't like it, the impression wan't of barley gently smoked in a peat kiln as much as burning tyres and bitumen. I needed some more of the 17 y.o. afterwards to recover! Sorry guys, it's just not for me.

Although we stayed in the town of Bowmore, we didn't get to tour the distillery itself (http://www.bowmore.co.uk). Tastings were conducted at the local pub, and may have gotten a little out of hand. We certainly weren't taking notes! The lucky few who stayed in Bowmore Distillery's cottages received a complimentary bottle of 12 year old! Quite a few brain cells were sacrificed to the cause in Bowmore, but I do remember the 18 year old making me very happy.

The south coast of Islay has a string of three distilleries - Laphroaig, Lagavulin and Ardbeg. Unfortunately Lagavulin wasn't open on a Sunday, but Ardbeg (http://www.ardbeg.com) opened to show us around, and entertain us afterwards in their shop. Their whiskies were some of my favourite on the tour. Uigeadail was my overall favourite, not just smokey but spicey as well. Corryvreckan was another standout, sadly now sold out.

Last on the tour was one of the largest Islay distilleries, Laphroaig (http://www.laphroaig.com). I ended up joining the "Friends of Laphroaig" club, mostly to get a few freebies, but they also issue all members with their own square foot of Islay. If I go back, I can pace out the paddock over the road and plant a flag!

Some intrepid Kiwi's been there ahead of me though... As for the whiskies - 18 year old was my favourite.

And so ended the tour of Islay. I'd love to go back one day, plant my flag and 'bag' the other distilleries, and would recommend a visit to the island to anyone who likes their holidays off the beaten track, and a bit wild and quirky.

How to make the best whisky in the world

2010-06-05T13:52:00.010+10:00

A big part of the trip to Islay was to visit several of the island's distilleries and sample their products. I didn't know that much about whisky (note - 'whiskey' is the American spelling, usually referring to bourbon) before I went to Scotland. I liked it, had heard that Islay whiskies were special, but really went on the tour to see the island.

We visited five distilleries - Kilchoman, Bruichladdich, Ardbeg, Laphroaig and Bowmore, although we didn't get a tour of Bowmore. We also passed Lagavulin, but they were closed on a Sunday.

Making Islay Scotch seems simple, but there are a surprising number of factors involved in making a complex flavour. The main ingredient in Scotch whisky is barley. Some is grown in Islay, but the island's climate means that supply can't be guaranteed, so the majority comes from the mainland.

The first step is to germinate the barley, which turns the starch in the grain to sugars, which are essential for fermentation.

The germination takes place in cool storehouses, well ventilated to ensure the barley doesn't heat up.

Once the barley has germinated, it's dried in kilns. Islay's Scotches get their famous smokey character from drying and smoking the barley with peat, which is an abundant form of fuel in the island. After drying, it's ground - the grinder here is at Ardbeg:

The ground barley is then mixed in a 'mash tun' with hot water, before being piped to fermentation vats called 'wash tuns'.

Some distilleries use wooden wash tuns, others more modern stainless steel. The wood doesn't contribute much to the flavour. If you're ever invited to stick your head in a wash tun and savour the yeasty smell of fermenting grain - don't! Some stages produce what can best be described as nasal napalm.

After fermentation, the solids and liquids are separated, and the alcohol goes through a two-stage distillation. At this point you can taste the grain and smoke, but it lacks the character imparted by ageing in barrels. Distilleries use bourbon and sherry barrels to impart woody, fruity flavours to the whisky, moving it from one barrel to another to add various layers to the taste. The 'age' of a whisky indicates how long it has been in barrels for - once it's in a bottle, the ageing process ceases. Younger whiskies generally have higher alcohol content, as it gradually evaporates through the wood (the Scots call this "the angels' share"). If the alcohol content drops below 40%, it cannot be sold as a single malt, and instead is used for blending.

The best thing about Scotch making is that it is a genuine art - the subtleties of timing and ingredients at the various stages have profound effects on the final product, and even the professionals are sometimes surprised by their results. Every once in a while a whisky master opens a barrel and finds something extraordinary. And in a world of mass-produced products, that's something to treasure and marvel at.

Islay

2010-06-03T02:12:00.007+10:00

Islay (pronounced Eye-la) was a magical place to visit. It's away from the usual tourist trails through the Highlands, and has a wild and isolated feel. It's largely flat, and although the Spring sun shone brilliantly the whole time we were there, the wind off the Atlantic had teeth. In the dark winter months, Islay would be a forbidding place, a test of character and endurance.

We sent three days on Islay, staying in Bowmore. Over those three days we visited five distilleries - Kilchoman, Bruichladdich, Bowmore, Ardbeg and Laphroaig. More on them next time.

It wasn't just about the whisky though. A great highlight was Portnahaven, a small fishing village built in the 19th century around a natural harbour on the south west tip of the island. Its small white houses crowd the road around the harbour, with seals swimming in the kelp in the centre of town. Many of the houses, we were told, are owned by descendants of villagers who have since moved away, and are maintained as holiday homes. Even with houses standing empty the town projected a cheerful air, with tubs of flowers on the footpaths, and locals out enjoying the sunshine.

On the southern coast of the island is Kildalton church. The roof is gone, probably ripped away during Atlantic storms, and the interior is carpeted in sweet emerald grass. On a calm day, it was a peaceful place, sleeping away the years. Outside the church is the 8th century Kildalton Cross, still standing straight, the carvings easily seen through a veneer of lichen.

Visiting Islay wasn't just about the towns, distilleries and scattered relics of a long history at the edge of the world. Some of the best impressions are of the places in between. Small villages around the coastline, wide flats with peat cutters drying turf for the winter, narrow roads lined with drystone walls winding over low hills, small beaches and rugged cliffs, the smell of peat smoke in the evening air, and the lilting sounds of gaelic in the pub at night are all part of the island's charm.

Edinburgh

2010-06-02T18:21:00.003+10:00

The first part of my holiday was a tour of Scotland's Highlands, and the islands of Islay, Mull and Skye. The tour left from Edinburgh, so once I'd headed north from London (ie Heathrow) I had an afternoon to have a look around. And yes, I knew one afternoon wouldn't be enough time to do it justice...

Preview

2010-06-01T23:08:00.003+10:00

No posts for a month, as I've been on holiday in the UK. The trip took in a bit of everything, from the Scottish Highlands, the Inner Hebrides and the subtleties of making good Scotch, to Triumphs, Industrial Revolution (ie pre-Triumph) history and even some geology. Scotland, for instance, has some wonderful examples of granite and gneiss, but they tend to spoil them by building castles on top.

Anyway, here's a preview. More when the jet-lag wears off.

Paint stripping

2010-05-03T14:25:00.004+10:00

I visited to a couple of car painters in Mackay last week, mainly to see what sort of work they do. The first workshop was in a large shed beside the owner's house on the edge of town, the second in a large commercial unit in the industrial district. Of the two, the one on the outskirts impressed me much more, mainly because the owner took the time to show me the spray booth, some of their current restoration work and discussed what I'm working on. I never got past the reception desk in the second place! Both exclusively use two-pack paints.

One thing I wanted to ask about was soda blasting. A Mackay company offers this, but I've read a lot of scare stories of how paint doesn't adhere (key) well to the metal afterwards because of soda residue. Some people recommend cleaning the panels with vinegar afterwards to neutralise the soda! Another problem mentioned is that soda caught in creases and panel joins can damage new paint down the track. Anyway, both painters told me they use it, but preparation is the key.

Maybe I'm just cynical, but I decided that just because neither painter has had problems, there are enough scare stories circulating to make me worried. The safest method of paint removal still seems to be the oldest - paint stripper, elbow grease and a wire brush.

So, this weekend I stripped the right hand door, and will drop it at the painters to get primed. It held a few surprises - despite nice door shuts, the car must have had a big bang on the right side, judging by the amount of filler and six holes from a dent puller. They're not really bullet holes!

Cool runnings (hopefully)

2010-04-12T10:12:00.002+10:00

The GT6's radiator went back to the repair shop last week to get a bung fitted for an adjustable electric fan thermostat. Some fit into the top or bottom hose, but this version is neater. I also had the shop open up, clean out and resolder the heater matrix. It's much better to spend a bit extra now, rather than find out later that the 38 year old heater is leaking - it's much harder to get to than a Herald's.

Exactly why I'm bothering with a heater I don't know. Northern Queensland winters can be a tad cool in the mornings, but any other time of the year the climate ranges from hot to stinking hot. It's likely I'll end up fitting aircon at some stage, otherwise the car just won't get driven in summer.

The Doors

2010-04-10T16:46:00.004+10:00

Spent a couple of afternoons stripping down the GT6 doors. GT doors are much lighter than a Herald's, and all the bolts and screws undid easily - even the large phillips-head screws behind rubber bungs that keep the quarterlights in place. These more commonly need to be drilled out, so I'm delighted - must be the result of a long life in a dry climate. Neither door has any significant rust.

The left door had a large shallow dent, which popped out easily enough with the handle of a hammer. It'll need to be dressed, but should come up like new. The surprise was the right door, which has had a couple of dents pulled out by a slide hammer. Once it was stripped the drilled holes were easy to see, as they have small worms of filler poking through!

So both doors will need some panel beating once blasted. But they should come up like new.

Back at the wheel

2010-03-31T17:33:00.002+10:00

Modern geologists don't often wander the deserts with a hammer, compass and rough map these days. We use 40-tonne drill rigs to core rock hundreds of metres below the surface. It's fast, expensive, and completely impossible during the summer wet season, as the trucks sink into the black steaming swamps that were, until the rain, hard-packed dirt roads. This year's 'big wet' has lasted longer than usual, so we've only just been able to start the 2010 drilling program.

When we're not drilling, I get sentenced to a spell in Head Office in Brisbane. A tenth-floor view of the Brisbane River is great, but after a couple of weeks I start to miss the open spaces, laid-back atmosphere and clear skies of the Coalfields. Also, I have a proper garage/workshop in Moranbah, so the Triumphs stay tucked up while I'm away. This year we had a cyclone pass over, which dumped a lot of rain but caused no damage other than a few toppled trees. The workshop was covered in branches but didn't leak, so I'm happy.

The Herald doesn't seem to have been bothered by being laid up, thankfully. I came up for a meeting at the beginning of March, and took the Herald - it was only 90 miles away, virtually next door by Australian standards. In fact the Herald handled the drive better than me, as a migraine kicked in during the day. Solution - drive home with earplugs!

As for the GT6, the heater matrix is away getting tested. I do NOT want to find out that it leaks once the car's reassembled! I've also had time to look over Canley Classics' alloy water pump housing, and I love it. It looks like an exact casting of the original iron one, and is beautifully machined and finished. No casting flash. I'd have substituted UNC threads for the pump studs, but I guess they wanted people to be able to reuse the old ones. I can't - one came out, one sheared and the third is just plain stuck!

Light and shiny

2010-03-10T19:54:00.003+10:00

One lesson learnt while rebuilding the GT6 is that it's far easier to restore a car to standard specification than modify it. The parts fitted at the factory are guaranteed to fit - for instance, a pair of front suspension turrets which had been powder-coated years ago and never used didn't fit as well as the originals. I tried to make up new steel brake lines, but found that flaring and forming new pipe isn't as easy as you'd think. In the end, after careful cleaning and checking for cracks, the originals went back on.

However, there are a few areas I'm determined to change. The engine will be rebuilt to a higher state of tune than the original US-spec (78hp), so the gearbox, diff and rear axle will be upgraded to improve durability. The new diff is a Subaru 3.7:1 LSD, and the rotoflex couplings have been replaced with a CV conversion made by Nick Jones. The right hand side's been assembled, and only needs an adapter between the inner CV and the Subaru diff.

A few other non-original bits thrown into the mix are a lightweight alloy water pump housing and engine backplate. I still have some reservations about whether the engine plate will be strong enough to prevent the engine and gearbox flexing, but it's well machined and seems solid, so time will tell. The water pump housing's beautifully made, amazingly light and only a little bling :-)

A few other parts trawled from eBay and purveyors of parts Triumphant are a pair of NOS door handles - the original are pitted and 'orrible - and replacement running lights. These were only fitted to US-spec cars, and while I'm in two minds as to whether they suit the lines of a GT6, they are part of the car's history and identity, so will stay. Just like the US-spec dashboard layout and brass dash plaque.

Colour

2010-01-10T09:10:00.003+10:00

The stripdown of the GT6 body is finally complete (it's only taken a year!). The last things to pull out were the wiring harness and heater. In theory I could send the body off to get soda blasted now, but I'll wait until the wheels arrive in case the guards need 'adjusting'.

In the meantime I've had a great time cleaning up the wiring loom and labelling all the loose ends. No seriously, it's pleasing to clean decades of grime off wires and gauges to reveal original stickers and wire colours. The loom's been chopped around by previous owners to fit a new ignition switch, but the rest is in very good condition. As the car's ex-USA, the harness is different from the UK-spec diagrams in the Haynes manual, but the wire colours are the same. It'll need extra wires grafted in as part of the conversion to right hand drive - that'll have to wait until it's back in the car, so I can see where the extensions have to reach. Other planned modifications are a modern, pre-engaged starter motor, larger alternator, electric fan, headlight relays, an electronic tachometer and speedometer, and modern fuses. All those mods will have to wait until the car's getting rebuilt and I can decide how to proceed.

Another bit of progress is getting an adapter brazed into the sump so I can fit an oil temperature gauge. The 13/60 has one, and it's proven that even on a hot, steep mountain road the oil temperature never gets above 80 degrees. Any decisions on an oil cooler in the GT6 will wait until I've seen how hot it gets.

My Rimmers order arrived on Friday. The New Tan door panels are beautiful - Newton Commercial do a brilliant job - but the paint pots, the real reason I put in an order, weren't there. Apparently the international carrier now deems Conifer Green, BRG and Mallard as hazardous! In theory a paint shop should be able to mix them from the codes, but in practice they don't have recipes for most old cars. A bit of research is in order.

Idle fingers

2009-12-27T06:53:00.004+10:00

Christmas comes in many forms. White, as my father has found out this year in Riga. Hot and sunny in most of Australia, warmish and sunny in New Zealand according to my friends. And in Brisbane, wet.

I went for a bike ride on Christmas morning - took the train out to the coastal suburb of Cleveland and cycled home. It was a beautiful day when I left home but by the time the train pulled in to Cleveland station, it had started to rain. It drizzled on and off as I made my way north up the coast, but held off the big guns until I was right out in the open. As it's summer the rain wasn't cold, so the impression of a drowned rat was more for the look of the thing than any real discomfort. In New Zealand the impression would have been of a rat pre-pneumonia. But by the time I returned home for the traditional exchange of vouchers, I don't think a single square inch was dry! The rest of the day was spent grazing, quaffing a drink or two and watching the alternating heavy grey clouds and bright blue sky scud past. It would rain as though an ocean had fallen on us, water cascading down the trunks of the palm trees and gushing down the road, and then the clouds would clear, revealing bright sunshine that set the ground and rooftops steaming.

So, a lot of the day was spent surfing the net. This can be dangerous. Last year's post-Christmas boredom lead to my adopting a GT6. Just about any orphaned Triumph tugs at the heart-strings, from a Mayflower found in a field (complete with Herald 1200 engine), a Standard 10 languishing in a barn, a conifer Spitfire Mk2 with wire wheels, a Herald 1200 coupe in a knacker's yard, a manky TR3... Life is too short, and garages too small. Fortunately it's the wee Triumphs that appeal most. The big girls like 2500 saloons and Vanguards don't pull the same heart strings at all. Oh well, more for everyone else!

So this year I refused to look at the 'cars for sale' section. Nope, I set about finding a few parts for the GT6 and Herald coupe. One find is a 'Coupe' boot badge. Another is a set of engine gaskets for the GT6, and from Rimmer Bros, a set of interior door cards and engine timing sprockets. Oh yes, idle fingers on eBay bring a new definition to 'Christmas shopping'!

A recent dilemma I've been wrestling with is the colour for the GT6. The Herald coupe is going to be Royal Blue (#56 for the anoraks), probably with white side-stripes. It's not an original pattern, but then nothing else about the car is original either! First choice for the GT6 has been a similar blue, Sapphire. However, the more I think about it, it feels as though I'm just reproducing the Herald coupe's colour scheme. An alternative is dark green, but it's hard to decide on a colour based on photos on a monitor, as the same colours can look very different with different cameras and lighting conditions. So to help me choose, I've ordered test pots of Conifer, Triumph BRG and, out of curiosity, Mallard. All of these will go with the chosen interior colour of New Tan.

The only other progress on the GT6 is that I've decided to fit a CV rear axle conversion made by Nick Jones, and so have posted the GT6's rear uprights to the UK in exchange for a machined pair, as well as CV joints, halfshafts and MGF hubs. Out of interest, a rotoflex iron upright weights 3.96kg. And costs a lot to post around the planet!

Conifer Green - choice # 1

British Racing Green - choice #2

Mallard - the joker

(apologies if these are your photos - I've collected a lot over the last year)

Handling

2009-11-20T06:07:00.004+10:00

I've just been back across 'the ditch' (ie the Tasman Sea) to New Zealand. The trip was originally to attend a Triumph rally around the upper South Island, but it was cancelled due to lack of interest. No matter, I wanted to check up on the progress of my Herald coupe restoration (not much progress), and catch up with friends and family.

Although the rally was canned, I still headed off to the Marlborough Sounds for a night with friends. Instead of riding in a Stag or big Trumpy though, I borrowed my father's BMW 318ti. The wee compact hasn't impressed me much on past visits, as it feels a bit lacklustre around town. It goes well enough, but compared to the Triumphs and 4WDs I'm used to, it feels sluggish and vulnerably low. That's around town. On the open road, it turned out to be a very different car.

The road north from Christchurch passes through the rolling countryside of north Canterbury before climbing over the Hunderlee Ranges, and then winding along the Kaikoura Coast. It's scenic, but is also a great driving road. And that car, on that road early on a Saturday morning, was a revelation, a drive to remember.

I should point out that my father's not a keen motorist, and chose the wee beemer simply because it looks smart and is small. A previous owner has fitted 17" wheels, which might be expected to make the ride harsh - not a bit of it. It's not a powerful car - 138hp I think - but with those wheels, good 215 tyres, supple suspension, a rigid body and quick steering, it is the best handling car I've driven. As I learned to trust its cornering ability the drive became better and smoother. I knocked about 15 minutes off my best time to Picton (in a twin-turbo Subaru) without speeding (much), simply because so much more speed could be carried through corners.

It took a while to figure out why the beemer could hold on around bumpy, off-camber corners. The tyres are critical - I never came close to unsticking them. The other half of the equation, though, is a decent amount of suspension travel, meaning the wheels always have a good chance of staying in contact with the road. The springs aren't notably hard, but the damping is very good. The result is a car that feels much better than most 'moderns', which are designed to do their job adequately. Those cunning Germans obviously decided to build a car to a high standard, not just a price.

The reason for all the analysis is to try and get my little Triumphs handling as well. The GT6 will probably have about the same amount of power, and the V8 Herald deliciously more. The Herald's got 195/15 tyres, so grip should be adequate. The trick will be in getting enough suspension travel to allow the wheels to stay in contact with the road, and getting the spring rates and damping right. As for the GT6, it'll always be nose-heavy, but I'll try to balance spring rates, damping and tyre sidewall to keep the wheels hanging on to the road. Ultimately, probably neither will handle as well as that little coupe though. It really was that good.

In the pipeline

2009-11-08T09:25:00.002+10:00

This week I've been learning about how to flare brake pipe. Actually, what I've mostly done is learn how NOT to flare it! As the GT6's being converted to right hand drive, and I plan to fit a booster to the front circuit (just as Triumph did), it will need some new brake pipes made up. At the same time, I figures I might as well replace all the original pipework. New is better, right?

Step 1 was to buy a Sykes Pickavant tool, 20' of pipe and some unions. The tool's the sort where you clamp it in a vice and pull a lever to press a boss into the end of the pipe. I found it takes quite a bit of force to make an impression in the pipe, in fact I nearly pulled the workbench over! It worked slightly better when I unbolted the vice from the bench and parked my 4WD in top of it, but still not good enough - I'd probably bend the lever before getting a nice flare! In hindsight I suspect the tool is designed to work with softer copper pipe - which isn't legal here. To be fair, copper pipe can fracture if it's not well supported, and steel pipe won't rust fast in Australia.

On to Plan B - I found a cheaper tool which uses a screw to apply much more force to the end of the pipe. It works far better , so I've been practicing how to make single and double flares. Both require skill, so of course I instead have a collection of lopsided, skewed and bent flares instead. The success rate's going up though, with the help of a few 'how-to' websites.

Even my best flares aren't as nice as the factory's though. In fact, after comparing my flares with Triumph's, I cleaned the crud off the pipes and found that most are in perfect condition. No rust, no cracks and the union threads look mint. And so to Plan C - reusing as many as possible! It sounds dodgy, but they don't appear to have been bent or bashed, and were removed carefully so I could use them as patterns.

The less I change on this car, the easier the restoration seems to be. There's a lesson here somewhere...

Small steps

2009-10-26T21:45:00.003+10:00

The GT6 is coming along slowly, but there's not much to show for an hour or so spent in the garage every evening. I've jumped between several jobs - brakes, diff, gearbox, inlet manifold, welding. That way, when I get out to Mackay every few weeks, I can chase down all the parts I need in one hit. And if I'm getting bored with one task, I can put it down and spend time on another.

The Subaru diff is mounted in the chassis. With the mounting plates from my friends in New Zealand it just slots in to place. I've decided to use CV halfshafts instead of Datsun sliding splines, as the CV halfshafts are strong, light and compact. It does mean I'll need to work out which hubs and inner flanges to use, and get some halfshafts custom-made. I've stripped down the right hand rotoflex hub to see how much material can be bored out to fit larger bearings. This aspect will take a while...

The stock GT6 inlet manifold has been opened out to take a pair of Sprint HS6 carbs. I'll post some photos when the carbs are mounted.

The Ford Type 9 gearbox fits to the GT6 bellhousing with an adapter from a Sideways Forum contributor named GT6Mike - if you want one, he's here: http://gt6-efi.blogspot.com/. Next time I'm in Mackay I'll pick up some cap screws to bolt the adapter plate to the box. I've shortened the remote selector, but still have to get it TIG welded - not easy in a back country Australian mining town.

As part of the conversion from left to right hand drive, I've started welding the battery box in place on the left side of the bulkhead. And then my welder tip jammed - something else for the next trip to Mackay!

What else? The engine is in pieces in Brisbane, waiting for some 60 thou forged pistons before I can start rebuilding it. The front seats are also in Brisbane at an upholsterer, getting recovered in 'New Tan' leather. The trick is apparently finding the right coloured cow.

Lastly, although the brake pipes look OK, I decided to renew them all. I've bought some steel pipe (copper & kunifer not allowed here), threaded unions and have ordered a flare-making tool over eBay.

MacBook Pro battery failure

2009-10-15T13:09:00.003+10:00

My MacBook Pro battery died today, swelling up and bursting out of its case. A bit of surfing revealed that this is a common failure mode. Over the past month it had developed the habit of shutting down with no warning and at least 30% battery life remaining. According to the tell-tale indicator lights, it's still OK!

At least it didn't leak or explode... but Apple batteries aren't cheap. Damn.

Wings

2009-09-15T20:51:00.001+10:00

Some more photos from Brands Hatch. Their last missive mentioned 'M3-style' rear flares. Which M3, I wondered? The latest model has some very nice lines, for instance (and a V8 as well, I wonder if it would fit...)

I think a more accurate description would have been "Audi Quattro-style'. I'm not sure what to think, to be honest. At the moment the guards are beautifully made, but I'd imagined them being more curved, and the outside of the fins following the curve, not staying straight. So much for the Q-car! However, I'm sure it'll look impressive when the Royal Blue goes on.

Bouncing back

2009-09-09T20:24:00.003+10:00

After a break in drilling, I'm back in the field. The best bit about this, apart from getting some nice tropical sun again, is being able to play with the Triumphs I'd left wrapped up in Moranbah.

The first job was re-installing the Herald's repaired fuel tank. I painted it in POR-15 before sliding it back into the wing, as the repairer's paint was matt black. Not having a large drain-bung underneath made it much easier to maneouver into place. The new tap was then screwed in, and the sender refitted with a rubber-cork gasket and Loctite sealant. After 3 months it started immediately - I love being able to prime the fuel pump - so we went for a blast to clear the cobwebs. I also got a lung-full of smoke at one point where the council were burning off the roadside grass in advance of the fire season. Still, smoke was better than the last trip in the Herald, with an oil can as a fuel tank and car full of fuel vapour.

The GT6's underside is nearly all stripped and repainted in POR-15. The rusted sections won't get replaced until my welder gets up here - it's still 800km away in Brisbane - but they're easy to access, so won't stop me remounting the body on the chassis. I stripped down the old front coil-overs today - both the springs and shockies are getting replaced, but I needed the top spring hangers to send away for sandblasting. US-spec cars always rode high to comply with headlight height legislation, but someone had tried to lower the nose by clamping the coils together. Maybe it had some effect, but what a bodge! The sides of each shockie were crushed, so how they worked I don't know. These went straight in the bin, the only parts I'm keeping are the top spring hangers.

With a little help from your friends

2009-08-31T19:11:00.004+10:00

Another update from Brands Hatch Restorations - with a little help from a friend.

It's hard to get a good handle on a restoration in another country, so I asked a mate to pop in and take a few photos. It helps that he's building a Herald coupe as well... but where I'm going for brute force, he's decided to be clever and fit a modern, turbo-charged engine. Once finished, the comparison will be interesting.

Anyway... the bodywork on my Herald coupe is well advanced. The front and rear track widths have been increased to improve the handling, requiring substantial modifications to the wheel arches and guards. Brands Hatch have removed the rear outer wing panels, allowing the body shell to sit properly on the chassis for the first time. Wow, she's low! Once the outer panels are modified and replaced, the wider track won't be obvious... unless she's parked next to a normal Herald, anyway.

Note the string over the left wheel. The guard must extend over the tyre to be legal. The coil springs have been removed, so the wheels are sitting at full compression right now.

Below is an interesting shot - the main chassis rails have been scalloped to allow the engine and gearbox to sit further back. This had been recommended a couple of years ago, but I didn't have the facilities and ability to do a good job on the chassis.

There's still a bit of work to do on the backbone though. With less metal in the main rails, I may yet decide to bulk up and triangulate the backbone. When you're playing with a V8 (and I'm thinking of reducing weight further by taking it to 3.9L) you don't cut corners. Well, unless it's in a Landrover, but you know what I mean.

Herald coupe update

2009-08-08T11:46:00.003+10:00

Brands Hatch Restorations sent me an update about the Herald coupe last week. They're making good progress, but not necessarily in the direction I'd originally envisaged.

As background, I engaged them to finalise the engine and gearbox mounts, but mainly to repair the rust and alter the bodywork to fit over the braced transmission tunnel and wider track width. Bodywork is their specialty, and they have numerous restorations to their credit. A V8 Herald isn't their normal bread and butter, but they like the idea...

In New Zealand, substantial vehicle modifications have to be approved by a 'certifier', an engineer who applies strict guidelines on design, workmanship and safety before the car can be unleashed on public roads. I used to think NZ's system was a pain, but since moving to Australia, realise it's pretty straightforward. Anyway, BH sought the advice of a local certifier, who specified a few changes. The first is that my beautiful front wishbones, which provide a wider track width and mount to Cortina uprights (no trunnions!) need to be made of a thicker-walled tube. The guy who made them is p1ssed off but will make new ones.

Another change the certifier asked for was to move the engine back. BH have done this, and made the final engine mounts. For the first time, the powertrain is firmly bolted in, about 4-5 inches further back than I'd planned, but it will help both the handling and give more room for radiator and fans. The engine mounts look very firm, and mount to the chassis main rails rather than the suspension turrets. It may be possible to run a brace between the turrets to stiffen the front up further. My Dad has dropped the front pulley in, so they can make sure it doesn't foul on the steering rack. I wasn't pleased when I saw that my tubular backbone had been cut into, but that can at least be rectified later.

And this is what 46 hours labour buys...

The timing cover is now in line with the steering rack. The P6 crank pulley has been dropped in to check clearance.

The right hand engine mount. It's basically a suspension bush, so if it fails the engine won't drop far. Could transmit a bit of vibration though, so the engine had better be well balanced.

The backbone has been 'clearanced' to accomodate the new engine position. If its rigidity has been compromised I'll have to look at replacing the tubes.

A very tidy gearbox mount.

Tanks Greg

2009-08-01T16:55:00.003+10:00

During June's camping trip to the coast with my Herald, it developed a bad fuel leak. The tank had rusted due to years of standing water, probably condensation. After I filled up with ethanol-blend, the new fuel ate through the glossy paint that was sealing the rust holes. The rust I had no idea was there...

No one in the Moranbah - Mackay area repairs fuel tanks, so when I was transferred down to Brisbane last month, I brought the tank to be fixed by Greg Stevens at Fuel Tank and Radiator Services (http://www.ftrs.com.au/index.php). It's had its bottom section replaced, and Greg added a new drain tap which will be screwed in after the tank's refitted to the car.

As you can see in the photos, the old base was very rusty. The factory drain plug's boss, by the way, protrudes into the tank, and doesn't allow the tank to be fully drained - any water will remain and continue rusting the tank. Not that the original drain plugs can be undone anyway... The new drain point doesn't protrude, so it should be possible to drain any water with the turn of a tap. It's the way light aircraft tanks are made, and the way Triumph should have done it forty years ago.

Dash it

2009-07-06T15:15:00.002+10:00

As my GT6 started life as a LHD US car, I had to find some new dash panels as part of the conversion to RHD. It wasn't as simple as ordering a new RHD dash, though, as the US cars' centre dash panel is unique. The solution, therefore, was to mix'n'match dash panels and re-veneer them.

To give the car an Australian flavour, the wood I chose was called 'Tiger Myrtle', actually a southern beech, Nothofagus cuninghamii, from Tasmania. Five coats of satin urethane later, it looks pretty good. I've still got to restore the tachometer and speedo though.

Stag photos

2009-07-03T21:55:00.003+10:00

A contributor to the Club Triumph forum (http://www.club.triumph.org.uk/cgi-bin/forum10/Blah.pl?m-1246418662/) asked if somone registered on Trademe.co.nz could contact a vendor selling fibreglass Stag bonnets and other panels. I did, and this was his reply:

"Hi there Nick.
Thanks for the questions on trademe. I have attached some photos of the Stag bonnet and components we do. The photos are of the bulge bonnet. I also make the standard flat bonnet. Other components we make that are on that car in photo are the front guards, front and rear bumpers and the front air dam. If you have any more questions please don't hesitate to ask. Everything is made from fibreglass and comes in white gelcaot finish.

look forward to hearing from you
Jason Bryant
bodyworx fibreglass
Hamilton
New Zealand"

He posted some photos of a Stag that's raced in the Targa New Zealand. It's obviously very light; in some photos it's not even touching the ground.

Meanwhile, back in the real world, my Herald's still sitting in the garage waiting for the fuel tank to be repaired. No one's willing to do it locally, but I've found a specialist in Brisbane. I'm driving to Brissie next week, and I'm hopeful the tank will be allowed to fly back up at the end of July. At least the petrol smell's disappeared!

Alcohol problem

2009-06-18T14:43:00.004+10:00

Gerald the Herald's seldom left Moranbah since driving up from Brisbane last year. We go for regular blats out to the airport and back to warm the engine, but otherwise it hasn't left town since last July. So, I decided it was time for a holiday.

Sarina Beach

Sugar cane ready for harvest. No crop circles visible from this height!

We headed out to the coast and stayed for a night at Sarina Beach, a quiet settlement about two and a half hours from home. After a run on the beach the next morning, we headed north to Mackay to pick up the GT6's newly recored radiator. After Mackay, we headed north to Cape Hillsborough National Park and pitched a tent in the caravan park by the beach. I stopped at one point to photograph the Herald alongside one of north Queensland's iconic crops, sugar cane. When I was planning my move to Australia a few years ago, I'd visualised driving the Herald through fields of pineapple, only later finding that pineapple is grown further south. So sugar cane it had to be.

A byproduct of the local sugar industry is ethanol, blended into the premium fuel as "E15". Not being able to find the normal Premium, I decided to try the E15. The car ran well to Cape Hillsborough, the only difference being a hint of vapourisation after stopping for a few minutes, and slight pinking. Unfortunately, all wasn't well, and I returned from a walk on the beach to find fuel pouring from the boot. An old repair to the petrol tank had been dissolved by the ethanol, and I had to pull the tank out and drain it. The get-me-home fix the next day was an old 20L cooking oil drum with the old tank's pick-up pipe poked through the lid! And it did get me home, with roof down and windows open to control the smell of petrol wafting from the boot and carbs. The fuel tank will need to be professionaly repaired this time, and will be dropped off in Mackay next week. In the meantime, Gerald's asleep in the garage, all washed but stil with sand on the carpet. As always, it did well.

Pulling the tank out - oil drum ready to go in.

The morning after - sunrise on a tropical beach

Just chop it in half!

2009-06-06T08:07:00.003+10:00

No photos right now. The V8's front suspension arms were checked by a Certifier, who decided that the car should be built to 'heavy-weight ladder-chassis sports car' specifications, rather than medium-weight as Andrew, the suspension designer, had done. (Bollocks of course, the Rover V8 weighs less than a Triumph 6). What this means is that the arms will have to be re-manufactured with 4mm-thickness tube rather than 3.2mm... and then crack-tested again, as per the current arms. This also affects other cars Andrew's working on, so none of us are happy. By the time the V8 Herald is certified road-worthy in New Zealand it will be able to crush tanks!

The GT6's engine has been stripped down for measuring. The bearing sizes are all standard, so it had probably never been taken apart before. Some bearings are showing traces of copper, but overall are pretty good. I have a full set of .010 VP2s to fit after a crank grind. A set of cam bearings are on their way from Canley Classics, and I've ordered forged pistons and valves from Gareth Thomas. He tells me that there's a prize for the first GT6 to exceed 40mpg on 95 octane fuel, and another for the first to reach 150mph normally aspirated. Bloody 'ell!

I'd like to give a big round of thanks to Canley Classics. I ordered a new right hand floor pan to replace the lace-like original (the left is better). A floor pan costs £100, but Clare, the sales person, emailed to advise that postage would be another £170 due not to weight but length. I wrote back asking if chopping it in half would reduce the postal charge (I only need the front and rear wells), and to my surprise they did, and it did cost less! There aren't many places that even warn of huge postage charges, and few who are hands on and practical enough to do it. Thank you very much, Dave Pearson and the rest at CC!

Meanwhile, back at the ranch...

2009-05-13T15:42:00.004+10:00

Operation Two Triumphs continues.

The GT6's right hand floorpan turned out to be fairly rusty under all the dirt. Apparently California cars do rust. In this case I think the aerial hole in the front scuttle let the water in, and the carpet held it in the front footwell and under the passenger's seat. That'll be the driver's seat when it's revived in RHD form, so I decided to replace the floorpan. It doesn't look too bad in the photo, but the remainder was too thin to weld patches to. One panel, 100 pounds. Postage, about 40. Not having my backside dragging on the road? Priceless!

Not that I've ordered a new panel from Canleys yet, as Customs haven't released my welder. In the meantime I'll get on with restoring a pair of ex-Sprint HS6 carbs and de-rusting the seat frames.

Meanwhile, back in Christchurch the Herald V8's body has been removed for sandblasting, and the certifier has asked that the custom lower wishbones be reinforced. A friend snuck in and snapped a photo of the V8 in its ultimate weight-saving guise. The V8 really does look as though it's supposed to be there, doesn't it?

POR-15

2009-05-04T11:47:00.004+10:00

After the chassis came back from the sandblasters it got several coats of POR-15, the hardest paint I've found. It flows well off the brush - well enough in fact that I've painted the fuel tank with it as well, achieving a glassy smooth finish. POR-15 doesn't come off hands though, you have to wait until the skin sheds!

Gloss black doesn't photograph well, but I'm happy with the result.

The next step is removing the dirt, paint and rust from the wheel arches and underside, and painting that in POR-15 as well. The car never had underseal, which makes the job far easier, though far from pleasant. Below is the result of two hours with an angle grinder and wire brush.

The only rust so far is light surface rust behind the rear axle. I'll clean the rest of the right side, paint it and turn the body the other way to tackle the left side. A friend suggested leaving the body and bonnet off the chassis until they're painted, avoiding the possibility of overspray on the chassis and suspension. However it would make the body harder to move and more prone to damage after painting. Pros and cons.

I won't fit the body until I know the gearbox fits without chassis modifications. And I've rebuilt the suspension. And chosen some wheels...

Off with its head!

2009-04-26T18:41:00.002+10:00

After a Parts Department sort out at my father's place in NZ, there's a pallet of parts due to arrive in Brisbane late next month. I uncovered a lot of bits opportunistically grabbed over the years, many cleaned, repainted and wrapped in newspaper before being put away and mostly forgotten. The pallet includes a Type 9 gearbox, new 23-spline clutch, Subaru diff, Triumph Tune 330lb/in springs (I 'd go for 450lb now but hey), NOS Monroe Herald rear shocks (which may fit the GT6, I'll wait and see), and shiny front wishbones and turrets.

One box contained 6 cylinder engine parts, as I originally planned to put a PI engine in my Herald coupe. I uncovered VP2 010" main and big end bearings, new valve guides, gaskets and a timing chain tensioner. I also dug up an 'F16' camshaft from Kelford Camtech in Christchurch. It's the same grind as in my 13/60, and certainly made a difference to a friend's 2000 Mk2:

Valve lift: intake 0.426, exhaust 0.422
Duration at 050: intake and exhaust 220

The TR5, by comparison, has 0.372 valve lift and 226 duration (http://www.hottr6.com/triumph/tr6cams.html), so less lift but slightly more duration. A longer duration cam may be worth trying at a later date, but for now I'll build it with what I've got.

I took the head off the GT6 motor today to see what lurked beneath. It's a low compression US-spec engine, and turns out to have flat pistons in a recessed block, and the head casting - 312388 - and machining numbers - 218255 - are the same as Mk2 PIs, 2500TCs, as well as the GT6 Mk2, which had domed pistons to raise the compression. The head numbers indicate a height of 3.400" compared with 3.300" for the flat-pistoned Vitesse Mk2, so it'll need at least 100 thou shaved to get the compression up.

The pistons can be moved around in the bores, so a rebore is on the cards. 60 thou forged maybe? Interestingly, the outer 4 are stamped 'A' and the inner two 'B'. The photo shows the recessed bores - it looks like the head gasket's still in place, but that's the step in the block!

April fooling

2009-04-19T09:31:00.007+10:00

Before the New Zealand winter clamped down, I flew back to Christchurch. The official reasons were to visit my father for his birthday, to see friends and see the autumn landscape - Queensland doesn't have an autumn, the trees stay a dull grey-green all year round. I went up to North Canterbury with a friend, and to the Botanic Gardens (cliched but beautiful nevertheless).

The unofficial reasons for the visit were to send my V8 Herald to the body shop (Brands Hatch) and bring back a pile of restored but never used parts for the GT6 in Australia. Having two restoration projects on the go simultaneously in two countries makes life interesting. Because it's in my garage in Moranbah I can do 90% of the work on the GT6 myself, whereas I have to farm out 90% of the work on the Herald coupe because I'm away 50 weeks of the year.

Andrew Stanton completed the chassis modifications with this backbone connecting the front and rear suspension. The idea is that this will provide additional rigidity to counter the torque of the V8. He also built a 'wide-track' front end and fitted a Holden diff. No way this baby will blow up!

Seeing if the carpets still fit. The front floorwells are the only unaltered parts of the floorpan!

Once again Ashley's Tow Taxi swung into action

The Herald at Brands Hatch

Megajolt assembled

2009-04-04T18:36:00.003+10:00

The latest version of Megajolt Light Jr (version 4) is a tricky little bugger to assemble if, like me, your soldering skills are infrequently tested. Most of the components are surface-mounted, which makes assembly far less of a D-I-Y proposition than previous incarnations. I tried, realised it's harder than it looks and gave up before damaging anything. Luckily, my brother Tim is an electronics genius (I knew this before I ordered the kit, of course) so I gave it to him. Here's what he emailed me today:

"Hi Nick,
"Almost had it complete on Thursday evening, and had it all done yesterday afternoon, done the basic tests, voltages all correct and on correct points. Reworked your solder joints, you really need a very fine tipped iron for SMD stuff, needle tipped less than 1mm diameter at point, and I use 0.6mm diameter solder, to ensure I get an appropriate amount, and even then I often still suck and reflow the joint. I've secured the Map sensor with two M3 stainless bolts cut to appropriate length, and I used a compound to prevent the nut from coming undone, rather than use a plastic cable tie, as the diagrams seemed to suggest, which may give way or not prevent vibration, and failure of the 6 brass legs or solder joints.

'I have also replaced the leaded filter cap (electrolytic) with an SMD tantalum, like the one on the output of the 5V regulator, I did this because the electrolytic caps, especially 85 deg rated devices do dry out, or leak, and thus are more prone to failure down the track, especially in a vehicle, where the temperature can become very high during summer, and in winter drop very low. Where possible, and we have them in stock, when replacing caps in radios, we fit the SMD tantalum types for improved reliability in the longer term. Standard electrolytic caps would be rated for say a 5 year life at 50 deg C, this will decrease with increasing temperature."

I'd say I owe the lad a curry and lager for that one!

Oh, my chassis is back from the sandblaster and half painted. When it's finished I'll post a few pictures. And start trying to remove POR-15 from my hands ;-)

Bulkhead panels and Megajolt

2009-03-25T14:43:00.003+10:00

While the GT6 chassis is getting blasted (must check how that's going), I've been busy converting the shell to right hand drive. The battery box, pedal shelf and brackets are available as rust repair panels, so the old ones were cut out and new ones fitted on the other side. These are still to be welded in place.

I've also cut out the left hand drive dash frame, and will weld in the replacement right hand drive frame when the bulkhead is welded. I'll also have to make a recess in the bulkhead to accomodate the long tandem brake cylinder.

Another little project will be to replace the Delco distributor (curved for the US-spec engine) with Megajolt ignition. A trigger wheel and EDIS-6 kit arrived from the UK last week, and the Megajolt Light Jr version 4 kit landed on the doorstep today. I forsee a lot of delicate soldering in my future.

Triggerwheels.com included a couple of boiled sweets in the box, which I thought was a lovely touch. There was also a bag of UK air as packing. I'll release it in the car when finished to ensure absolute authenticity.

Turning point

2009-03-14T13:30:00.003+10:00

After a few more evenings in the shed, the GT6 has finally been stripped down to the chassis. It's straight and rust-free, so will get sandblasted and painted next week. After that comes the ceremonial turning of the ratchet, when I start screwing bits together again.

In the meantime the body and mechanical components are tucked in the garage so the Herald can nest in the middle. Small cars are great - once the GT6's shell gets reunited with the chassis I'll still be able to tuck it sideways in the back of the garage and wheel it out to work on it.

With the exception of one piece of the wooden dash and the steering rack, I now have all the parts required to convert the car to right hand drive. Time to practice my welding skills.

The reassembled car will have a few improvements built in. The gearbox's magnetic drain plug held a significant amount of swarf and a needle roller. She can't have been running too well at the end! A popular upgrade is a Ford Type 9 five-speed box. Triumph diffs are known for their fragility, so I'll fit a Subaru 3.7 LSD which just happens to be sitting on my shelf. The rotoflex couplings are another weak link (see above), so the Subaru diff will be connected to Datsun sliding spline halfshafts (they bolt together).

I'd hoped to be able to run the existing engine for a year or two before rebuilding and upgrading it, but the crankshaft has about a half millimetre of fore - aft movement, signalling worn thrust bearings. I'll check their condition before making a final decision, but if the thrusts are worn, chances are the rest of the engine is pretty tired too. The engine can stay in the garage for now, though, as restoring the bodyshell is top priority. It'll be much nicer to rebuild an engine with a beautiful painted and trimmed car waiting to receive it.

Stripping with friends

2009-03-08T07:51:00.004+10:00

Over the last week or so, I've been slowly stripping the GT6 down, learning how they were built and revealing its secrets. It's suffered a few bodges in its time. The ignition lock obviously failed at some point, so it was removed from the column and an ordinary switch fitted in its place. There's the standard horn switch bypass wire, as the steering column contacts invariably fall apart with age. A strange find was a 1998 tape by Vicente Fernandez, a Mexican folk singer, found in the bottom of a door. I'm guessing that around then, the car was owned by a Mexican or lover of Mexican music. When it's on the road I'll download some of Vicente's tunes, to get something of the feel of the car's history.

So that's one new steering column needed, then!

The general condition of the car is best described as 'worn out'. The body really has very little rust, but most panels have a dent or two. The interior is a write-off - even the plywood dash crumbled as the glue holding the ply together had been cooked. Just about everything made of vinyl, rubber or plastic is history.

It's fascinating that the GT6 is only three years younger than my Herald, and yet the design is much more modern and mature. The greasy bits are the same, but the Herald doesn't have features like seatbelt warning lights, two-speed heater fan and wipers or eyeball vents. Of course, my 1969 Herald was really designed in the late fifties (bar a few cosmetic changes) so I shouldn't be surprised. But I've fallen for the new car already, seeing how well constructed it is.

Last night I was planing to strip out the back end - fuel tank, rear lights, bumper and tailgate glass, but a few friends turned up and offered to help. All my careful one-bit-at-a-time note-taking went out the window, and in a couple of hours we had the body off. Thanks to Bill, Leon (a Valiant Charger nut, he loves my 'toy' car), James and Ashley for the spanner work and lifting.

Leon, James and Bill getting stuck in.

The morning after

So, three pizzas and a six-pack (should have been Tortillas and Corona obviously) the chassis was laid bare. And the verdict? Under the dirt, it's factory fresh. You can still see the Damson overspray on the rails!

A last note, right now we're watching out for category 4 Cyclone Hamish, a couple of hundred kilometres off the coast and moving south. At worst we expect heavy rain, but are prepared with gas cooker, beer and DVDs.

The light of day

2009-02-28T13:09:00.005+10:00

After probably its first night under cover in years, the GT6 was wheeled out this morning for a wash. She was imported in Sept/Oct 2007 and probably sat outside since then - and goodness knows how many years before that. She was filthy!

After the wash, I spent an hour going over her, noting what bits are missing and broken. The right hand rear quarterlight is gone - carefully removed and left somewhere. All four US-spec cruising lights have perished or lost the lenses, and need replacing. Various bits of interior trim have vanished or crumbled away, but as a full retrim is on the agenda they don't matter. All the window rubbers have perished, the tyres are cracked, the windscreen is broken, the wiper arms have fallen off, the tachometer is broken, the dashboard ply is falling apart, and the bumpers are pitted and dented. Most of the panels have small dents, but there really is almost no rust (except for the tailgate) so she'll be able to keep all her panels. California cars...

All the mechanical bits are in place, so I changed the plugs, leads and air filters, put on a battery and turned the engine on the starter. Good news, it's not seized and spun easily. I hotwired the ignition and ran a hose from the fuel pump to a jerry can, but couldn't get her to fire. There was spark at the coil but not the plugs. The engine service kit I bought had parts for a Lucas distributor, but mine's a Delco, so I couldn't do any more on that side. The carbs were seized, and spent a while with CRC56 freeing off all the linkages, only to find the accelerator pedal itself is seized solid! A pair of Dolomite Sprint 1.75" SUs are on their way, so I couldn't see any point persevering with the Strombergs. The radiator leaked like a seive, but the tanks look OK so a simple recoring should be all that's required.

Another impression. The interior was cleaned thoroughly for shipment (thank you Australian Quarantine) so it's not completely disgusting, but this car has spent years sitting in the sun. The seat foam is crumbly (high backed recliners, the best and still very comfortable), the steering wheel is falling apart, the dash foam is history... she smells like a barn find, dry, dusty and dessicated, and everything inside is dirty. The hinges, pivots and locks are dry and stiff (more CRC!). But the view down the long bonnet is the same as I remember from my only other GT6 experience, driving a white Mk1 on a grasskhana. She was worth the expense and the wait.

The GT6 arrives

2009-02-27T18:54:00.003+10:00

Last month I bought a GT6 Mk3, sight unseen, through eBay. The problem was that it was three states away in Adelaide. However, one of our contractors regularly moves graders and bulldozers around the country, so I asked him if he'd have room to bring it north. He agreed, so I'll say it here - Ross Yendle, you're a star!

The car arrived today. I knew from phone calls roughly when it would arrive, so a mate and I headed out to the main highway to meet it and follow it into town. We gave him directions via two-way to a local freight depot where we could unload the car - it wasn't on the part of the trailer with ramps.

Unloading was a bit nerve-wracking, despite everyone's claims that they'd done that sort of thing heaps of times. It worked - not a scrape or bend underneath - but I hope we don't need to do it again.

From the freight depot it was a quick tow home, via a petrol station to pump up the almost flat tyres. With only a handbrake to slow down, it was an interesting ride. 30mph feels fast when your bum's so close to the road, and with a host of rattles, vibrations and road noise coming through the floor, it was pretty agricultural.

Tomorrow the car will get its first wash in years, and I'll go over it carefully to work out what's missing, broken, bent and worn out. One thing there's very little of, though - rust.

Trim and fit

2009-02-08T09:55:00.004+10:00

Waiting when I returned from the Blue Mountains was a package from Newton Commercial. It contained two new 13/60 door trims, boot carpet, and a red carpet set for the V8.

The door trims are 'Stag Grain', and are frankly better quality than the factory trim. When I repainted the Herald I replaced the manky and warped original panels with some better Shadow Blue trims, repainted black. They were OK, but always on the list of things to replace. The new ones are perfect.

I also replaced the left hand door's window channel. This required finding some (almost) flat steel rivets and attaching the old channel's brackets to the new channel. The hard part was finding steel rivets in an Outback mining town...

At the same time, I bought a new Herald boot carpet and wheel cover. I still need to fit the domes and jack restraining strap, and will need to buy a dome popper tool.

The last part of the package was a Matador Red carpet set for the V8 coupe. One of the first things I bought for the 13/60 when I started restoring it was an early Newton Commercial black moulded carpet set, and they've survived extraordinarily well. Comparing the old and new carpets, it's obvious that Newtons have developed their product over the years. The new carpets are more intricately moulded, and also thinner. Possibly their new press can't accommodate the old 1/2" thick material? I'm sure the new carpets will fit perfectly, but the thinner backing material may not reduce cabin noise as efficiently as the older set.

Newcastle and the Blue Mountains

2009-02-03T07:41:00.004+10:00

January's adventure was south to New South Wales to visit my friend Katie. First stop Newcastle, the second settlement in Australia and named after the UK's Newcastle because of the coal deposits upstream. The sunsets are taken from Anna Bay, just north of the port.

After Newcastle we took the train south to Sydney - a much nicer way to travel than driving in. The next day I got out from under her feet and headed inland to the Blue Mountains. The term 'mountain' is a bit misleading, as it's really a sandstone plateau dissected by rivers to form huge gorges. I stayed in Katoomba, on the edge of a valley overlooking the Three Sisters. These spectacular eroded rock pillars are one of the most photographed landmarks in Australia, along with the Sydney Harbour Bridge and Opera House, Whitehaven Beach in the Whitsundays, the Seven Apostles and Uluru / Ayers Rock.

The Blue Mountains are also home to the Jenolan Caves. I toured the Lucas Cave, and there are more waiting for next time (there's too much to see for one visit). There's a Scenic Centre at Katoomba with a steep traintrack into the valley, so tourists can explore the forest without too much exercise. I did several walks around the tops and bases of the cliffs - the Giant Stairway up one of the three Sisters is very well named (ouch my poor calves).

Between the scenery and catching up, it was a damn good trip.

Oh, and the GT6 is somewhere between Adelaide and here. The vendor mailed me the dash plaque I thought had fallen off, so I have one bit already!

New Year's Resolution

2009-01-18T17:46:00.004+10:00

One of this year's resolutions was to not buy any more Triumphs... unless absolutely necessary. So less than three weeks into the New Year, I bought a GT6 on eBay. It's a 1972 Mk3, US-spec left hand drive, and needs to be completely restored. I couldn't view it before bidding as it's in Adelaide, about 1700km away, but from the pictures, it looks to be pretty intact (although completely worn out), and the rust looks to be relatively minor, mostly confined to the tailgate.

Why? Well, I've lusted after them since I first got into Triumphs, but my Herald was $500, and no GT6 was for sale for less than about $8000. Low, fast sleek and with a wonderful 6 cylinder bark, they represent just about the best Triumph had to offer, ever. Soon after I started work the local Triumph specialist got a nice Mk3 in for wrecking. Nice apart from a huge dent in the back where someone had run into it, and a bent nose where it had in turn hit the car in front. It was written off, but could have been repaired. I made an offer but it was worth more as spare parts.

This week's eBay car is only the second I've seen for sale in Australia in the 2 1/2 years I've been here. There are usually several for sale at any one time in NZ, but add $4500 to freight it here, and the costs aren't worth it.

The next hurdle is to freight it up to Moranbah, which will hopefully just take a few phone calls and a credit card (ouch). And then see what condition it's in. A US-spec car is slightly different to your run-of-the-mill Trumpy, so it'll be exciting.

Rear suspension

2008-12-31T13:50:00.003+10:00

Several years ago I replaced my Herald's original swing axle with a Canley Classics swing spring. This was to eliminate the original suspension's tendency to sudden oversteer - a tendency that is often over-hyped, but a trap for the ham-fisted or unwary nonetheless. The new swing spring improved the handling, but as standard made the rear sit too high. I lowered it with a Jigsaw 1" block between the diff and spring, and have driven it that way ever since. The 1" lowering created its own problems, though. The car had about 4 degrees negative camber, putting a lot of strain on the halfshaft UJs, and the swing spring's central box sat so high it occasionally contacted the diff inspection plate behind the back seat. So this week I substituted a Canley Classics 3/4" lowering block to raise the ride height.

The first task was to shorten the four bolts holding the spring to the diff. The threads were extended up the shank with a thread die, and about 1/4" was removed from the ends.

The spring box now sits slightly lower, and no longer makes rubbing noises on the inspection hatch. The two plugs in the diff (Heralds originally used six bolts to retain the spring) are still in place and haven't moved over the last few years. The protective grease on the spring box seems to have worn off. If I'd been more motivated I would have taken it out, derusted and painted it. Oh well, next time.

The old Spax shockies were replaced with Konis. The Spax went on in the mid-nineties - I'd ordered Konis from Rimmers, but they sent some yellow ones instead. When I complained, they sent a second pair free! Postage from New Zealand to the UK made returning them too expensive, so they went on the car, and the spare pair were sold to a friend.

The final tweak was to remove the swing spring's second retaining loop, as it sits very close behind the brake cylinder (I've got Vitesse brakes). The flexible brake hose has to connect to a short length of steel brake line, a setup I've always viewed with concern as the small metal line has to be free to slide as the cylinder moves back and forth. This means it's poorly supported and can flex, creating a potential fatigue failure point. Removing half the outer spring loop means I can reattach the brake line to the wheel cylinder, eliminating a potentially catastrophic failure point. I didn't move the brake lines yesterday, as I want to get a one-man brake bleeder before tackling that particular job.

(I should point out that Canley Classics' kit includes Kunifer (copper nickel alloy) hoses which run aroud 270 degres of the backing plate, and are less prone to fatigue than steel. Kunifer's illegal in New Zealand and Australia, though).

The spring's second loop is designed to help retain the top of the suspension upright if the spring fails - not something I've heard of happening. I've left half the loop though, which should hold the upright if the inner spring leaf does fail.

Happy New Year to all Heralders and Triumphologists!

West Coast

2008-11-06T21:37:00.005+10:00

When Kiwis talk about 'The West Coast' they invariably mean the west coast of the South Island. The North Island has a western coast as well, but it lacks the isolation, beauty and otherworldliness of the West Coast district. About 20,000 'Coasters' live in small towns stretched along about 400km, separated from the rest of the country by the Southern Alps. The Coast is famous for rainfall measured in metres per year, dense rainforest, quirky characters and very good beer. And stunning scenery, which is why it's so popular with tourists and returning Kiwis.

Here are a few shots from late October...

Dawn at Lake Brunner

Some musket shooters at the tiny town of Kopara. Half were 'northerners', the other half 'southerners', hence the Confederate flag. Their powder was dry, and the muskets amazingly accurate.

Another local, a Weka (bush hen). Amazingly bold and curious, tourists often mistake them for Kiwis, which are neither bold nor curious, and hardly ever seen.

Random scenic shots:

Rolling chassis

2008-11-04T11:13:00.006+10:00

I've just spent two weeks back in New Zealand, including a few days in the garage working on Herald #2. The rolling chassis has gone back to my engineer friend for some more fabrication work, to install a better diff, add a backbone to make it more rigid and improve the front suspension's geometry.

Loading onto the car transporter, sans body tub

Well, he wanted written instructions!

Andrew's son liked the new lightweight concept

Snakey

2008-10-18T19:47:00.003+10:00

The Spitfire speedo I bought from the Spitfire Graveyard looked mint on eBay (above) and for real, but I found when installing it that it didn't have a 'zeroing' cable - and the cable from the old 13/60 gauge didn't fit. And they're n/a on the Canley Classics and Rimmer Bros websites. Oh well, never mind. But I later realised that the odometer and trip meters don't work. Hmmph. When Lionel Otto Instruments rang to tell me the tacho was ready I asked about the speedo, and the chap said it would be an easy fix. "Is it calibrated?", he asked. Which is where this story starts.

The best way to test a speedo's accuracy is to drive at various speeds with a GPS on board, and compare the two. They agreed almost perfectly around town, and I could easily convince myself that any difference was due to a slightly trembling needle. But a smaller error would be proportionally larger at higher speed, so I headed out of town to open it up a bit. The local mechanics have a favourite back road to check their work. It's mostly straight, like most Australian roads, and only a bit bumpy. Alrighty then!

At 100km/h on the speedo, the GPS said 96km/h - as good as a modern car, and erring on the slow side just enough to avoid a ticket. But the road was straight, so the taps were opened wide. By the time we got to a slight right-hander the GPS and speedo both read nearly 130, at which we backed off and sat at about 110 for the last stretch of seal. Turning around, the old lump got a better run-up, and we hurtled back toward town at 140, at which the GPS and speedo still agreed almost perfectly. Anything working perfectly on the Herald is unheard of, it's a collection of bits that work 'pretty well for a 40-year-old car'. So the speedo is calibrated!

The handling, though, was another story. Since its wheels were aligned shortly before going into storage it's felt a bit funny, with very little self-centering action to the steering. At 100 it's fine, but at 140 it felt as though I was riding a snake. It was very light and scarcely felt in contact with the road. The back would deflect one way or the other over bumps, and it was hard not to over-correct the steering. It's very direct compared to the 4WDs I usually drive, and I felt that over-correction would cause a positive feedback where it started snaking down the road, swerving more and more violently. Sweaty hands on the wooden rim didn't help, either! Having checked the speedo, we returned to town at a speed more befitting our age.

I've fitted lower, stiffer front springs, Konis, a lowering block and urethane bushes, so the basics are right. It's had enough shiney bits thrown at it for a while, so once I can get some more shims (none in Oz) it'll go into the local mechanics (with me watching) to get the alignment reset to something resembling the factory settings, albeit with a lower ride height and increased negative camber. I have my fingers crossed that it'll cure the snaking.

In the meantime I'm going to NZ for a break next week, and the speedo will be fixed while I'm away. That way I won't be tempted to drive with an ugly hole in the dashboard. We'll even get the odometer reset!

Revolutionary

2008-10-12T17:43:00.004+10:00

A few months ago, I replaced my broken Herald speedometer with a Spitfire Mk3 gauge. The style is similar to a 13/60's, but it goes to 120mph... not that the Herald will! To match it, I've had a Mk3 tachometer converted to electronic operation.

The conversion was done by Lionel Otto Instruments (http://www.ottoinstruments.com.au) near Brisbane, who replaced the cable-driven workings with a VDO mechanism. It originally over-read by a factor of two, but this was adjusted by fiddling with some jumper switches and a fine-tuning potentiometer. I used the Herald's old and nasty (but accurate) tachometer to get a baseline reading.

Another recent modification is to fit a proper factory overdrive switch and cowling. The overdrive used to be switched on and off by a toggle switch in the dashboard - again nasty, but it worked. I've wired in an indicator switch as well. One discovery - if you switch off the overdrive while holding the switch, you can get a significant electric shock!

Repainted case

Looks like new!

Calibrating

A Way Forward

2008-09-07T08:20:00.003+10:00

About five years ago, I started building my idea of an 'ultimate Herald' (see the August 2007 entry). The car started as a way of using up some of my horde of spares, and as it was being built from scratch, I couldn't see any reason to keep it standard, like my 13/60. It's a coupe because they look stunning, with completely revised suspension and a Rover V8. Why the Rover? Mostly because I used to run a Range Rover and loved the engine. Even as standard they're light, torquey and sound fantastic. A heavy metal angel with straight pipes! And big torque in a light car can make for a stunning driver's car.

When I moved to Oz two years ago, the project was stuffed in my father's garage. I've bought a few new bits like a big front brake kit, and had a few bits machined ('cos nothing shipped from the UK has simply bolted on, oh no!). Apart from that not a lot has happened, as it's hard to restore a car when you're working in another country. However, one day soon Dad will want his garage back, so I'm about to get the ball rolling again.

Step 1 was to visit Earl Gilchrist, a 'compliance engineer', as Australian states have different, and often stricter, regulations on vehicle modifications than New Zealand, or just about anywhere come to think of it. I showed him what we'd done so far, and what the end result should be. He liked it, especially the engineering plans drawn up by the New Zealand engineer who build the front and rear suspension. However, given the extensive chassis modifications and engine size, he declared it almost impossible to certify for Queensland roads. It would have to be built as a 'scratch-built' car with new space-frame chassis, and comply with all 2009 ADR (Australian Design Regulation) requirements. These include emissions, impact resistance and chassis rigidity. Some modern manufacturers struggle with the ADRs - Ariel Atoms don't pass muster, for example.

I wasn't surprised, after stories I'd heard about the ever-changing panoply of rules and regulators. In terms of silliness, a V8 Herald is up there with stuffing a Merlin V12 in a Bentley chassis, which I also like... Earl did suggest, though, that if the car was registered in New Zealand, it would be able to be imported without being subjected to full ADR scrutiny. I still have to confirm this with Queensland Transport, but it's a way forward as the Herald has been built with New Zealand certification in mind. Even if it transpires that ADR compliance will still apply I still want to build it, as I return to NZ once or twice a year, and it would be nice to have a Herald on both sides of the ditch.

I won't be able to do much of the work from 3000km away though, so it'll have to be handed over to the engineer to finish the chassis and then a bodyshop to get the panel and paint done, and then a trimmer to install carpet and headlining... I'm just hoping it will be worth it.

Cool bits

2008-08-30T16:24:00.002+10:00

My Herald usually coped with New Zealand summers, except in traffic on warm days. While we don't have much traffic in Moranbah, it gets hotter than Triumph imagined - usually high 30s, sometimes into the low 40s. To deal with this, I've been upgrading the cooling as much as possible. The first modification was to construct a shroud to mount two electric fans behind the radiator. The shroud is just a sheet of steel with holes for the fans, and rolled edges to seal against the radiator. The radiator is protected from the steel edges by fuel pipe with a lengthwise slit.

The fans are controlled by two thermostatic switches. The left fan uses a switch in the top tank which kicks in around 75 degrees, and the right hand fan is controlled by a Revotec adjustable switch in the bottom hose. The fans are wired via relays, and each has an indicator light and over-ride switch in the dashboard.

So far so good, a long blast on the open road showed temperatures between 60 and 75 degrees, depending on speed. Still, it's only Spring... I've bought an early Spitfire or Vitesse header tank to increase coolant volume. It needs cleaning up (and has a small dent to remove), and will sit above the distributor. There really isn't any other place for it. Apparently they were deleted from later Spitifres due to 'over-cooling'.

The tank came from Jon Wolfe of Wolfitt Motorsport, who also made these rose-jointed anti roll bar drop links:
They're a considerable improvement on the original links, which here have urethane bushes. I also bought alloy rack mounts from Canleys. Some people have advised against them, but then some advised against 450,b/in springs, and they're almost downright comfortable!

Wiring in the fans took ages due to an attack of shipwright's disease. To mount the relays I had to reposition the headlight relays, and then the loom was recovered in modern spiro-wrap, then the overdrive relay was replaced, then the dashboard wiring needed altering...

Right, off for a test drive!

Lowrider

2008-08-08T12:30:00.003+10:00

Waiting when I got back from the Bunyas were a pair of 450lb/in 9" springs and set of Mintex 1144 pads. The new lower springs are now fitted, and yep, it's lower.

A new 9" spring, with an original for comparison. Getting the old ones out was a hassle (boing!) but the new ones just about slotted straight in. Hmmm, may need some sort of spring retainer if it ever gets airborne. The pads needed the locating pin holes drilled out to 1/4".

Slammed!

Bunyas

2008-08-07T07:10:00.003+10:00

Another camping trip, south to the Bunya Mountains NW of Brisbane. A long drive, ~2300km return. The official reason for the trip was a tour of the Acland Mine, but I couldn't resist throwing the tent in the car as well, and taking the scenic route back.

The Bunya Mountains are a high range, with a cool, wet climate. The rainforest is one of the only localities of Bunya 'Pines', a conifer related to Norfolk Pines (also not a pine) and Monkey Puzzle trees. Fossil Bunya leaves date back to the Jurassic - dinosaurs probably ate them! The cones are the size of a pineapple and weight about 10kg, so you don't stand under them when they drop in Spring!

Old house near Monto

Acland Mine. Thin seams, lots of them.

A mad Cuckoo Clock shop near Toowoomba. What's German for kitsch?

A pair of Bunya Pines

The Bunya Mountains have open grasslands called 'balds'. One minute you're in a dark, lush rainforest, the next you're in the open, with views for 150km.

Last rays of sun on the tree tops

Campgrounds are always busiest in winter, and often feature bush poets or singers around the campfire. The wooly hats aren't for show - even in the tropics, the temperature can drop to freezing overnight.

On the way back home, I stopped at Gladstone. Here's the harbour, and a tree lit up with green floodlights at the lookout.

Oh yes, and there was a pile of Triumph parts I'd ordered from the UK waiting when I got back. More on them soon...

Looking back, looking forward

2008-07-05T12:43:00.003+10:00

A few days into the current hitch, I've had time to reflect on the drive up, and how the car ran. In short, very well, but it could use some fiddling and fettling.

There are several things which could use attention. I've already replaced the very worn ignition switch. I've ordered a capillary water temperature gauge from Mini Spares to replace the 'C-N-H' electrical one, and see how efficient the cooling system is. The radiator has a single cooling fan mounted loosely behind, and I'll fit a second fan beside it and duct them so all the air they pull comes through the radiator. Mini Spares also sell braided oil pressure gauge hoses, a good idea as the standard plastic ones can wear through or break, running the engine out of oil. Replacing the temperature gauge means the original is redundant, so I'll find a 4" tachometer and a new fuel gauge. Much more sporty than standard Herald fare.

Lastly, the Herald could use a tune-up. The problem is lack of mid-range torque and response - open the throttle, the carburettors hiss, but the pick-up is missing. In Christchurch it always went to a garage who knew SUs, but out here I'll have to figure out for myself how to do it. I'll get a wide-band air-fuel meter, carb balancer and an adjustable timing light.

Just being able to go out and sit in Gerald the Herald has brought back memories of where we've been. Looking through the sunroof as we drove through a tunnel of beech trees in the Lewis Pass. Driving onto the ferry to go to the North Island. Turning the corner at the Hermitage at Mt Cook, and gazing at glaciers of green ice hanging off the Southern Alps. Later on the same trip, winding through the Maniototo Valley with warm feet and frozen head (sunroof open as always). I wonder where we'll go in the next sixteen years?

North of Oamaru, after the Dunedin Street Races in 2005

At Mount John Observatory, above Lake Tekapo

Porter's Pass, Southern Alps. The sunroof was closed that day!

Chapter 4 - final leg

2008-07-02T11:40:00.003+10:00

The last day of the trip was always going to be the longest and hardest. There are few towns between Mt Morgan and Moranbah, and the first, Middlemount, was nearly 200 miles away. It's flat, dry, empty country, and in summer you carry a lot of water in case of breakdown. Cell phones are useless, and traffic light. The road is at least sealed the whole way.

The first leg retraced about 30km, and then we headed north to the Capricorn Highway, which runs west along the Tropic of Capricorn. For some of the westward drive along the highway I sat behind a road train, almost coasting in his slipstream. We did an easy 100km/h, hardly touching the accelerator. It would have been the perfect free ride if not for a strong smell of cattle leftovers...

After he turned off, I realised we were slowly passing an empty coal train heading west to the mines. These trains are 120 wagons long, and sit at about 80km/h, so passing took a looong time. As we finally caught up with the loco, I heard a short toot and looked over. The driver waved, I waved back, and he let out a long, loud blast. Man, I want one of those horns! Only one thing for it, we floored it and sat at 110 (the limit) all the way to Dingo. He had more horsepower, but I had a weight advantage!

We turned north off the highway at the Dingo roadhouse. Dingo's not so much a town as a place to fill the tank, grab a bite and have a pee. From there it's 120km to the coal mining town of Middlemount, up a straight, flat road known locally as the Beef Road. The whole road is 230km long, with no towns, roadhouses or rest areas, built solely to get cattle trucks to the market at Rockhampton. From Middlemount to Moranbah, we passed one huge mine after another. Although it isn't usually visible, the road parallels a single open pit about 65km long. The quantities of rock removed, coal mined, expenditure on infrastructure and income are staggering, and pump billions into the Queensland economy every year.

Derailed coal train near Saraji Mine

The Outback. Flat, straight roads and big skies. And hot.

Made it!

Gerald pulled into my drive in Moranbah at 2pm, a bit hot and dusty after three days and 747 miles (1202km), but running perfectly. He picked developed a few new rattles and squeaks, but never needed the oil topping up, returned a consumption of 36mpg or better (despite racing trains) and kept his cool in all but heavy traffic.

After a trip of nearly 3500km from Christchurch to Moranbah, from temperate latitudes right into the tropics, that was definitely Gerald's biggest adventure, ever.

The red line is the flight down to Brisbane (at least the portion I was allowed to have the GPS on for). The green line is the route Gerald took, along the D'Aguillar, Burnett and Capricorn Highways, and then into coal country. Two hours vs three days!

Chapter 3 - Orange to gold

2008-07-02T10:27:00.003+10:00

Sunday morning was again foggy, and little of the scenery could be seen as we drove north out of Gayndah. It had cleared by Mundubbera, where I stopped at the Giant Mandarin. A lot of Australian towns have built giant icons such as an enormous pineapple, mango or crayfish, and Mundubbera has celebrated its local citrus industry the same way. I can't decide whether they're tacky, or sad, or brilliant.

Misty morning

Munduberra and the giant mandarin

I stopped in Eidsvold for morning tea (and a mandarin), before pushing north to Monto. I passed through Monto a month ago after camping at Cania Gorge, and stopped for an early lunch. When I finished a local, Ron Jamieson, came over and had a yarn about old cars - he has a '79 Corvette, currently in the workshop, and an rip-snorting XU-1 Torana before that. He remembered his father's old Wolseley, and an MG rally that passed through a few years back. Couldn't remember a Triumph in Monto, though! I'll look in next time I'm passing through, and see how the Corvette's coming along.

North from Monto, we passed over the Coominglah Range. Ron had told how road trains at night could be seen climbing the range by the glow of their turbochargers, but Gerald kept his cool. No turbos! From there to Biloela the road wound down through a valley and past Mt Scoria, an extinct volcano. Biloela's information centre makes good coffee, and after a reviving espresso and wander around the farming display ("eat Beef!"), we headed north to Mt Morgan, the final destination for the day.

Mt Morgan was slightly off the direct route, but was the last place to find a decent motel between Biloela and Moranbah. Mt Morgan's an old gold mining town tucked in a valley inland of Rockhampton. It survives partly on tourism, but with gold over US $1000/ounce, mining companies are looking again at the old tailings, and fresh, unmined deposits deeper under the hills. The place has a buzz, and I'll go back and camp there sometime. The motel, also a caravan park, had an old motorbike mounted on its sign - typical Queensland quirkiness. Apparently the owner collects old bikes...

Later in the evening, while waiting for my pizza, I filled up Gerald - 29.1L and 240 miles for the day equalled 7.8L/100km, or 36.2mpg. Not bad! The local RACQ (Royal Automobile Club of Queensland) mechanic was there, and had seen my car earlier in the day. I joined the RACQ prior to the trip, but was glad I hadn't needed them. We discussed Triumphs (there used to be some locally many years ago), the foibles of SU carbs, and other local auto-antiques, until the pizza was ready. Along the whole trip I met people who knew what Heralds were, or had had similar British cars, and the stories and characters added greatly to the trip.

470 miles into the trip, we slept in a mining town full of ghosts and stories from the past, but with a bright, golden future. Like a lot of Queensland, really.

Stop 2 - Mt Morgan

Chapter 2 - Escape from the Big Smoke

2008-07-01T18:42:00.003+10:00

Saturday morning in Brisbane was clear and cool, certainly too cool to have the roof open. I didn't leave until about 8.30, instead mucking around repacking, cleaning the windows and checking the oil and water again. Procrastinating, in other words. Once we pulled away, though, the nerves disappeared.

At the start line

First stop was the Gateway Bridge, a concrete arch which soars over the Brisbane River. $2.60 toll paid, Gerald roared up and over in top. It's a long, steep climb, but the engine pulled strongly and exhaust echoed off the walls and other traffic. Progress slowed on the other side thanks to an accident and subsequent tail-back. A traffic jam before 9am on a Saturday? I was glad to be leaving! The temperature rose a bit while crawling, but dropped again once we were clear and cruising.

I turned off the motorway just north of Brisbane, at Caboolture. I could have continued up the main highway for the next two days, but it's a long, boring grind between concrete walls, passing town after town and seldom in sight of the sea. The alternative route up the Burnett Highway links farming towns. It looks shorter on the map but winds around hills and valleys the whole way. Much more fun, then!

I stopped at Caboolture for snacks, and then at Kilcoy for fuel. It was foggy inland, and we drove through valleys filled with thick mist, with the ghosts of gum trees looming out of the gloom. Ridges and hill tops, meanwhile, were above the sea of clouds, bathing in the Queensland sun. Next stop was the town of Nanango, near the giant Taroom coal mine. The low-rank coal here is mined for electricity generation rather than coking, and the mine is celebrated at the entrance to town with a giant dragline bucket. I tried to reverse into it, but had forgotten how much lower Heralds are than 4WDs. Ooops, hopefully no one saw that! Thank goodness for the towbar.

The town of Moore, on the D'Aguillar Highway heading west

Dragline bucket from the Taroom Mine, on the Burnett Highway heading north

The goal for the first day was Gayndah, a pretty town on a river flat. It's famous for citrus fruit, so I drove up to the lookout and watched the sun set over orange orchards.

The first day's drive let me get reacquainted with a Herald's character and quirks. The road is a bit bumpy, probably due to the large trucks. Gerald tended to get thrown off course by these, and sometimes it felt like flying a small plane through a thunder storm. The quick steering is a joy, very responsive but needing constant correction. I'd forgotten how much the windows rattle, too! From late morning I'd opened the roof, and with the heater warming my lower half, it was very pleasant. We seldom drove at 100km/h though, due mostly to the bumps and wind noise. 90-odd made for a more comfortable cruise, and I could hear the radio.

And so we slept, dreaming of roads ahead. No longer on a little island, a whole continent stretched out before us!

Gerald the Herald's Biggest Adventure - Chapter 1

2008-06-30T20:27:00.003+10:00

The plan was simple - fly down to Brisbane on the Monday, pick up my car on Tuesday, register it and drive back to Moranbah, about 800km NW. The reality, of course, was far more exciting!

1 Getting Legal
When I first saw Gerald at the freight depot, he looked a bit lost and forlorn. Absolutely filthy after sitting on the wharf, the windows were down, the interior dusty and the engine bay was caked with aluminium corrosion and rust. The agents hadn't been able to start him, so had just pushed him into the warehouse. But, Gerald the Herald had made it across the Tasman in one piece and was standing on Australian soil.

I began by cleaning the battery terminals and tightening the clamps. Once it was reconnected the engine turned over, and eventually fired on three cylinders. After a minute or so the fourth chimed in, and the warehouse reverberated to the sound of a cherry bomb muffler, puffing a little oil smoke as it always does after a long rest. It ran!

When I tried to move off, though, there was a horrible grinding noise from underneath. I looked under, but couldn't see anything dragging. It was obvious that something was fouling the driveshaft, so I drove slowly to the front gate and waited for a transport truck recommended by the shipping agent. Time for a bit of cleaning.

Filthy but free - Gerald at the depot, waiting to be picked up.

This is where I definitely landed on my feet. Crash, the truck driver, is a Mini restorer. When he looked at Gerald he suspected it would need some work before it complied with Queensland traffic regulations, and recommended a mate who is a compliance officer have a look. So off we went to John Greene's workshop in the eastern suburb of Wynnum, Gerald tied to the back of the truck and my mountain bike, in turn, strapped to his bike rack.

When he looked over Gerald, John decided the only change it would need was retractable front seatbelts instead of static, static rear belts and mounts for a baby harness. Hmmph. First, though, it needed the driveshaft rubbing sorted, and I'd also noticed that both rear tyres were well worn. The workshop's in an area of small side streets lined with garages, body shops, exhaust fitters and tyre depots. I drove to a tyre place in the next street, and looked underneath while it was jacked up. The exhaust was clear of the driveshaft, meaning it hadn't been pushed up by a ramp. This was bad news because it meant the shaft was rubbing on the floorpan.

After enquiring at a couple of garages, I found one who agreed to let me use their hoist. The problem was that the transmission tunnel under the handbrake had been forced down, hard, onto the driveshaft. How I don't know, possibly a heavy Customs or Quarantine officer knelt on it. Australia's getting fatter, so they say... Anyhow, the problem was fixed by a combination of a very large hammer, and fitting thicker rubber sections between the chassis and floorpan, effectively raising the floor. (You'd think it'd take one solid blow to the head to learn not to stand up too quickly under a hoist. I can report that two blows twenty minutes apart definitely hammer the message home, and provide matching bumps). While he was up on the hoist I greased the UJs and rear wheel bearings. A quick test drive proved it was running well again, and had lost none of its bark.

The seatbelts took about a day to fit, and then Gerald received a 'blue plate' declaring him to be legal - a proud moment. While John worked on Gerald I had a look at his bread and butter work - he restores Mustangs, impecably. The 'roadworthy' was next, and for that it needed a new indicator bulb, the windscreen washers fixed, and a seat mounting bolt replaced. Then it was off to Queensland Transport to get registered, and by lunchtime Friday, Gerald was legal. Time to hit the road!

To make sure the long hibernation hadn't harmed him, we drove about 40 miles on Friday afternoon, out to the eastern suburb of Cleveland to Greg Tunstall Mechanical, Brisbane's Triumph specialist. After picking up the latest issues of Triumph World we went home to pack. Couldn't resist cruising the local 'strip' that night though on the way to a restaurant.

Gerald at John Greene's workshop (above) and one of his regular charges (below).

Acknowledgements: I'd like to thank Steve White of Cargo Online for taking care of the Customs and Quarantine paperwork; 'Crash' for a great yarn and recommending his mate John; John Greene for putting urgent work aside and working to get Gerald compliant before the weekend; and Brett for letting me use his hoist.

Plates

2008-06-21T11:16:00.002+10:00

Still no news on when Quarantine will be finished with the car. They've had two weeks now. My June break starts next week, so I'm flying to Brisbane on Monday. I have to be back in Moranbah eight days later, so hopefully the car will be ready in time.

In the meantime I bought a wee present for it:

Pacing

2008-06-16T18:18:00.003+10:00

In 1992 I bought my first car, a 1969 Triumph Herald. It was 23 years old, and after being run into the ground by a succession of owners, was nearly dead. In peeling purple, with a knocking engine and self-opening passenger door, it was an eyesore. Its saving grace was that, being a Christchurch car, it had little rust under the awful paint.

Over my years at University most repairs were mechanical. It got a reconditioned engine (two actually, the 'recon' engine was a pup), overdrive, carburettor, electrics - everything to keep it running. It made several trips over the Southern Alps to the West Coast for my Masters thesis. On the first, the brakes overheated down the Otira zigzag... Ah fun times!

Once I had a job, attention turned to bodywork. I painted it myself, and from two metres away it looks pretty good. A retrimmed interior, sunroof, Superlite alloys, Vitesse brakes, swing spring, all turned it slowly from a sad old car to a very happy one. It's only broken down once in nearly 16 years and 60,000 miles, and that was my fault. For many of those 16 years it was my only car, as anything else simply felt like a Herald substitute.

For the last two years, the car has been in semi-retirement. I emigrated to Australia to work as a geologist, and the car went into storage. I drove it each Christmas, but it stayed wrapped up the rest of the year. Last Christmas, as I put it away again, I thought "enough, it's time the car emigrated too".

Which brings us up to the present day. It arrived in Brisbane on June 3rd, has been passed by Customs and is awaiting Quarantine approval. Once that's done it'll need a Roadworthy certificate, registration, and it'll be legal. And then the adventure continues...

The Coastal fallback

2008-05-26T21:33:00.003+10:00

OK, so I didn't originally plan to get out to the coast on this trip. Still managed to shoot a few piccies while I was there, though!

Above & below: sunset at Tannum Sands. A wedding photographer was working nearby. Hopefully I didn't get in any of the shots.

What happens when you put a polariser on a wide-angle lens! There were some fascinating high-altitude clouds around the coast. I've seen similar inland during winter, usually in the lead-up to bushfire season.

Leaves on Turkey Beach.

The stars over the rocks at Tannum Sands. It looks light, but it wasn't!

Cania & Kroombit - highs and lows

2008-05-26T21:15:00.003+10:00

There are a couple of National Parks about a day's drive south of Moranbah I've wanted to visit for a long time, Cania Gorge and Kroombit Tops. A perfect opportunity to break out the tent and camping gear!

Cania Gorge is cut into the same Precipice Sandstone as Carnarvon Gorge. It's smaller, with lots of walking tracks to suit various levels of fitness. The longest, to Castle Mountain lookout, is 22km return. I stayed for three nights at the Cania Gorge Tourist Retreat, a small caravan park on the park boundary. The walks start only a few hundred metres from the retreat, which is tucked into a side canyon. Being winter, it was cold at night, down to 5 degrees, but still mid to high twenties in the day, perfect for walking. The sun didn't burn, either. And yes, I did all the walks, as my hamstrings keep reminding me.

After Cania Gorge I drove down to Monto. I love old Queensland farming towns, especially after living so long in a purpose-built mining town. Old buildings, shops, houses, all give a town character. From Monto I went to the Waratah Vineyard (try the red port). Then on up the Monto-Gladstone Road, which is delightful, winding through rolling hills and small towns. Still a few gravel sections, but these look as though they'll eventually be sealed. I turned off to the second National Park, Kroombit Tops, at Ubobo. The guidebooks state that this road is 4WD only. In the dry, I'd say a 2WD would have no trouble. Not my 2WD, you understand, it still is a bit bumpy...

Kroombit Tops was, sorry, a disappointment. The drive in showed some spectacular cliffs and bush-covered ranges dissapearing into the blue distance. But it turned out that both main attractions, the clifftop lookout and Beautiful Betsy walks were closed for repairs. I've checked on the Queensland Parks & Wildlife Service website and no, the closures aren't mentioned anywhere. You have to drive 68km in from the bitumen to find out. To be fair I'd just rolled in, and you're supposed to get a camping permit first - presumably the closures would have been mentioned if I'd rung them. I will go back and camp up there for a couple of nights, but not until the walks are open (and maybe when it's a bit warmer!).

So, a change of plans, and I headed instead to the coast. A colleague had mentioned Tannum Sands as a nice spot, and I camped there for two nights. On Sunday I went exploring, down to Turkey Beach and then to Agnes Waters and 1770. A good way to spend the day.

The drive back to Moranbah was via Rockhampton, and then up the coast to Marlborough. Before the coast road was finished the main highway ran inland from Marlborough, emerging on the coast again at Sarina. The old road's winding, bumpy and far more interesting than the coastal grind. Try it if you have time!

Dry Eucalypt forest on the tops of Cania Gorge National Park. The grasstrees are characteristic of this sort of environment.

View from the Castle Mountain lookout, over Lake Cania. 11km each way, and worth every step!

On the way to The Overhang, in the gorge proper.

At The Overhang. One geologist for scale.

Just playing here, with the trees lit by a campfire. Lentil soup, cask red wine and woodsmoke, perfect for those cold nights outdoors!

Sydney and the Hunter Valley

2008-05-11T09:08:00.004+10:00

In early May I flew down to Sydney to visit my friend Katie again. We spent the weekend in the Hunter Valley with an old geologist mate Volker and his wife and young son. The Hunter's a beautiful area to work and live in - nice one Volker! - and the wine's not bad either. Katie wanted to see what a mine looked like. It looked far better in her watercolours than in real life. A pity I can't draw.

After a quick weekend away it was back to Sydney to play tourist for a few days. I went to the Sydney Harbour Bridge museum in one of the pylons, wandered the streets, toured the Maritime Museum and went on a frigate, submarine and replica of the Endeavour.

Next time I want to get out to the Blue Mountains for a few days. Cities have heaps of photographic opportunities, but I love landscapes!

And now for something completely different...

2008-04-10T05:47:00.004+10:00

My youngest brother got married in early April, at Riccarton House in Christchurch. It was a beautiful ceremony, and here are a few of my favourite shots from the day.