I’ve been thinking about and encountering references to my old Hillman quite a lot lately. Students of human psychology say that this sort of thing is quite common and that there appears to be no reasonable explanation as to why it happens. BDS510 copped a mention in my DIY post a week or so ago and it has been prominent in my memory due to its association with my late father from whose estate I bought the car while still an impoverished teacher college student in 1970. Dad passed away just a few days before Christmas in 1969 and, while that was many years ago, Christmas is inevitably linked to memories of him. Then the other day I was asked to nominate a secret question that I could answer if I happened to forget an online password. One of the choices offered was “What was your first car?” So the Hillman cropped up again.
As a young man and an avid car fiend, it was inevitable that I would seek to “improve” the car in whatever way my meagre budget would allow. I fitted a rear window demister, one of the stick-on sorts. Despite the fact that the car only had a generator not an alternator, I contrived to fit four driving lights on the front. This prompted a wag of a friend to to note that, when I turned on all of the lights at the same time, the car would slow down. Since It wasn’t real fast anyway, whether this happened or not is a moot point.
I fitted a set of speakers on the back parcel shelf and wired them in to a portable cassette player so that we could have music while we travelled. After consuming copious numbers of batteries I discovered a charger that would allow me to keep it running off the car battery so that was a plus. Seat belts were not compulsory then but I fitted some anyway.
But by far the greatest and most consistent expense involved was that of simply keeping the car running. British cars of the ilk had incipient rust but I was fortunate that a friend who was doing an apprenticeship in mechanics, was a dab hand at rust removal. Over the course of a few weekends, Murray cut out all the rust, patched the panels and then filled them before offering me (for just the cost of the paint) to respray the car as well. From the garage at what was the servo on the corner of Cliff Road and the Princes Highway, North Wollongong (now a Mercedes dealership – I always have a giggle when I drive by) emerged a refreshed car in a light blue colour replacing the drab green it had been before.
But what is the use of a car that looks good if it doesn’t GO good? By the time I got it, the Hillman was already 14 years old. These days a 14 year old car is just getting run in but, back then, it was already getting to the end of its useful life. A car needed a de-coke and valve grind at around 60000 miles and the car had already done a lot more than that. So, soon after I got it, I stripped the head and took it to Southern Engine Reconditioning at Kembla Grange where, for the lordly price of $35 the job was done. A few dollars more for a gasket set, borrow Murray’s torque wrench and I had it back together and running so much better in just a weekend.
And so it was that, as things needed doing, I found a way of doing it myself or finding friends who would help with doing or do it outright. I did front wheel bearings, fixed the universal joints on the tailshaft (one of them broke and left me with no drive while going to college one day- fortunately it was the rear joint not the front one). I drove the car about 20 kms one day stopping just on the handbrake as the hydraulic brake master cylinder, located under the floor just abaft of the accelerator pedal, failed. I knew enough about mechanics to know that that was one job that HAD to be left to the experts. A mate took me to college and dropped me back at Better Brakes in the afternoon and I picked up the car.
I became dab hand at adjusting the points and doing a static timing job with a little timing light and a metal nail file. Many was the time that I did that on the side of the road. Because of all the extra electrical farkles that I had installed I found it necessary to fit a heavy duty 9 plate battery (no alternator, just generator, remember?) and that came in handy too on more than one occasion. On a trip home to Wollongong from Bega in convoy with my brother in his 105E Anglia and the late Les Randles in his Humber Sports Vogue, I became aware that Les’s headlights were growing dimmer the further into the night we pressed. Sure enough we pulled over shortly afterwards and Les advised that his generator warning light had been on for some time. There was no way we would get back to Wollongong like that so I swapped out my fully charged battery into the Vogue and put his dying battery into the Hillman. We both got home OK with Paul riding shotgun at the rear in his slightly battered Anglia (which is another whole story by itself)
One day we were out in Les’s dad’s FX Holden when, just at the top of Bombo Hill north of Kiama, the Holden died and we pulled to the side of the road. Basic troubleshooting revealed that the distributor shaft was turning freely which it should not have been doing. We undid it and pulled the whole distributor out to find that the cog at the bottom of the shaft that meshes with the cog on the camshaft was not turning the rest of the distributor shaft. The pin that located the cog on the shaft had snapped. Fortunately we always carried comprehensive tool kits (you had to in those days) and we were able to get going again by locating a 3″ nail in a nearby fence, cutting it to length and inserting it in the hole where the broken pin had been. A few good whacks with a hammer at both ends using the tow bar as an anvil ensured that the pin would not come out and then we reassembled. A quick timing and points job and we were on our way. To my knowledge our repair job that day lasted until Les’s dad passed away and the car was sold as part of his estate.
And so we arrive at distributors. For those who don’t know, I suggest you Google it. For some months I had been troubled by a flat spot under acceleration in the Hillman (I use the world advisedly). I had cleaned and re-gapped the points a dozen times. I had done the timing till I could do it in my sleep. I had even gone down to Ron Thorp’s Bargain Barn and bought a whole carburettor, thinking that it could be a fuel issue. Despite replacing it, the problem refused to go away. Not long after the Holden incident I was fiddling under the bonnet when I noticed that there was a lot of free play in the distributor shaft. “It shouldn’t be doing that,” said Les. “There should be hardly any movement at all.” We popped the bonnet on the Humber and compared and it seemed he was right.
Back to Thorpy’s and we swapped the carby which hadn’t solved the problem, for a second hand distributor unit. Back to my place, retro-fit, time and gap and VOILA, the flat spot was gone. Hooray. The total cost had been minimal, I think $25 swap-over but the expenditure of time and frustration had been considerable. Nevertheless, as they say, all’s well that ends well.
I am guessing that many of you will be able to drag out stories like this from your youth and the days of playing around with cars and motorcycles. I don’t regard any of these experiences to be wasted, in any event. Had this not happened I wouldn’t have had a cool story to tell you today, so the value is clear.
Till next time, Happy New Year to you all.