Tag: British cars

Sandstone’s 1933 Morris 10
Keeping its ageing patina

_{Original text and pics by Sandstone Estates
Some editing by Axel von Tramp}

The recent article (https://oldcars.net.za/blog/2025/03/22/1933-morris-ten/ – ed.) on the Morris 10 brought to mind a restoration, that we did at Sandstone, of a similar car. Our car, which we acquired from a deceased estate in Estcourt, was originally thought to be a 1934 example. Since then we have established that our vehicle’s chassis number, 2673, identifies it as a 1933 model and not a 1934 as originally thought.

This is a further – well preserved and highly original – vehicle from the same owner, Dennis Pietersen, as our 1935 Ford V8 Bakkie that remains as yet unrestored.

Up on blocks, slap in the entrance to his workshop, stood the Morris. Dennis was reticent about it and didn’t encourage interest. Beyond the fact that it had belonged to his late father, and had been driven in to its current spot after his death, he would say very little about it. And would get really annoyed if one even hinted at his selling it.

One can only speculate how long it had stood there, by the turn of the last century, when Dennis himself passed away or how many “City” collectors – scenting a bargain and turning up with cash – had been sent off with Anglo Saxon curses ringing in their ears.

Tom Kirkland, who started the restoration in 2016, takes up the story:
While I have been a Volunteer, working at Sandstone Estates over the past 11 years, I have always admired this little Morris. It was parked in the sheds, among redundant tractors and farm implements, but I considered it eminently worth restoring. I could not detect any rust and all parts appeared to be present.

Last year Sandstone brought it up to Johannesburg for me to work on at home. Now that I have been able to strip it down, I have found that most parts are hardly worn. The speedometer shows a mere 25,000 miles. That seems to be its true mileage. I have now found that the motor’s water chambers need a good flushing out; whereafter it can easily be re-built with light honing, new pistons, rings and bearings.

The diff and gearbox will be checked but they appear to be in good order with no oil leaks. The radiator and fuel tank have been checked. The radiator will be re-cored, the fuel tank has been cleaned and a bad dent in it will hopefully be straightened out. The brake system was easily repaired with new linings and rubber seals. Wheel bearings are still firm and just need to be re-packed with fresh grease. Its two electric Trafficators are the only items that are missing. Can anyone please help find these because we never could? (Leads to: daver@sandstone.co.za – ed) The next major tasks will be the upholstery and a good paint job for the body work. In the end that was not done; as you will see.

Up to now most parts have been cleaned and the engine, gearbox, and differential are presently at an engineering works. Soon, therefore, it will all need to be re-assembled – over the next year or so. Presently the old-style ‘Knee-Action’ shock absorbers are proving to be quite a challenge but I’m sure we’ll get them working again.

Chapter two:
Sadly, Tom Kirkland became unwell and was unable to complete the restoration. There were also various issues with the engine that remained unresolved until quite recently. As all classic car enthusiasts will know there are always many “experts” but sadly, without Tom, we ran into difficulties with completing a satisfactory rebuild of the engine. The project was shelved as the COVID pandemic hit South Africa.

It was not until 2023 that the project was revitalised with a new hand on the wheel. This was none other than Lukas Nel who, apart from being the master restorer of most of Sandstone’s steam locomotives, was also highly skilled with old vehicles and he breathed new life into the Morris 10 by reupholstering the interior and spent three weeks hand polishing the paintwork to remove 80-plus years of grime and dirt.

We specifically did not want to respray the car so as to keep its ageing patina. The engine and gearbox were sorted out by Tobie Meyer who has assisted Sandstone with several projects, including our BSA Railcar and the Allen Trench digging machine. Like Lukas Nel, he’s a man of many talents.

The Morris is now looking splendid and sees the odd run in Johannesburg.

Some numbers
Engine: Morris 1292 cc, four-cylinder side-valve, two valves per cylinder, naturally aspirated
Power: 24 bhp @ 3200 rpm
Transmission: Four-speed manual
Acceleration: 0-50mph, 33.0 secs
Overall fuel consumption: 35.0 mpg Imperial
Tyres: 4.50/19 crossply
Fuel tank: 6.5 gallons Imperial (29.5 litres)
Turning circle: 37.0 feet
Kerb weight: 19.5 cwt (991 kg)
Production run: 1932 to 1935
Body styles at launch were: fixed-head saloon at £169-10-0, sliding-head at £165-0-0, two-door Special Coupé for £195-0-0

Views: 8

William Morris established Morris Motors Ltd in Cowley in 1919 and by 1924 was the UK’s biggest car manufacturer, producing 2,000 vehicles per week.

He had diversified his business interests by founding or acquiring subsidiary companies that produced engines, bodywork and other components. Morris Commercials built trucks and taxi cabs while firms such as MG, Wolseley and Riley became part of the organisation as well. His small-to-medium vehicle ranges would, however, prove to be the most lucrative.

Morris Motors entered the small-car market in 1928; first with the Morris Minor and then the Morris 8 in 1934. Alongside these, the ten-horsepower class took a large slice of the UK market with Austin, Morris, Ford, Vauxhall and Hillman all selling similar products head-to-head.

These early *RAC, or licensing, horsepower ratings may originally have had something to do with actual power outputs, or even cubic capacities, but humans always find loopholes if not specifically forbidden from doing something sneaky. It wasn’t long, therefore, until manufacturers took to enlarging engine capacities, and increasing power, by the simple expedient of lengthening piston stroke. Result: a more desirable engine at the existing RAC, or taxable, horsepower rating. “Nobody said we couldn’t, did they?”

The Morris 10 was introduced in 1933 and proved to be very successful. Built on a conventional ladder chassis, it was fitted with a side valve, 1,292cc, four-cylinder engine using a single SU carburettor and producing 24 bhp. The gearbox was originally four-speed but an overdrive was fitted later. Lockheed, hydraulically operated, drum brakes were fitted.

Body styles at launch were a fixed-head saloon priced at £169-10-0, a sliding-head version at £165-0-0 and a two-door Special Coupé for £195-0-0. A four-door tourer joined the range that December and was followed, in 1934, by a Traveller’s Saloon and a two-seater with dickey.

The summer of 1933 heralded the introduction of a 12 hp, six-cylinder, model labelled Morris 10/6 so, to avoid confusion, the four-cylinder car was renamed 10/4. A total of 49,238 Morris 10s and 10/4s were built before being replaced by the revised Morris 10 Series II in 1935.

Morris Ten continued through a number of variants until October 1948 when, together with Morrises Twelve and Fourteen, it was replaced by the 13.5 hp Morris Oxford MO.

Early models had a centre accelerator pedal and large sidelamps on the wings, the propeller shaft had Cardan (Rag joint) disc couplings made from leather. After 1933 the accelerator pedal was moved to the right of the cluster in line with modern convention. One source claimed that wheels became 18-inch, “Easy Clean,” at that time but your scribe hasn’t found confirming evidence of this.

The numbers
Engine: Morris 1292 cc, four-cylinder side-valve, two valves per cylinder, naturally aspirated
Electrical supply: Twelve-volt dynamo
Ignition: Coil type
Bore x Stroke, inches: 2.5 x 4.0 ( 63.5 x 102.0 mm)
*RAC horsepower formula: Piston diameter in inches, squared, times number of cylinders, divided by 2.5 (Therefore 2.5 x 2.5 x 4 ÷ 2.5) = 10 horsepower
Crankshaft: Three main bearings; white metal
Compression Ratio: 6.5:1
Chassis: Double box-section
Power: 24 bhp @ 3200 rpm, increasing to 27.5 bhp @ 3400 rpm in April 1934
Fuel: Petrol, via single SU carburettor
Layout: Longitudinal front-mounted engine; rear-wheel drive
Clutch: Wet, cork plate
Transmission: Four-speed manual; with overdrive from 1934
Gear ratios: 3.97/2.25/1.47/1.00
Final drive ratio: 4.70:1
Maximum speed: 65.2 mph
Acceleration: 0-50mph, 33.0 secs
Overall fuel consumption: 35.0 mpg
Steering: Bishop cam
Suspension: Semi-elliptic leaf springs front and rear. Hydraulic shock absorbers
Brakes: Lockheed hydraulic; 11-inch drums front and rear
Wheels: 19-inch Magna type, wire spokes. See text.
Tyres: 4.50/19 crossply
Fuel tank: 6.5 gallons Imperial (29.5 litres)
Measurements, length/wheelbase/width/height in inches: 147/96/62/64
Track, front/rear: 48 inches
Turning circle: 37.0 feet
Kerb weight: 19.5 cwt (991 kg)
Production run: 1932 to 1935

Views: 22

The tale of an informal import

TYRES AND TRIBULATIONS

_{By John Carlyon – on returning from a working trip to England.}

I returned, armed to the teeth, with hopefully all the necessary engine spares for our 1936 Rolls Royce 25/30, as well as two Firestone tyres for her (6.50×19″); weighing 23kg together! Funnily enough a few people suggested the old tyres-around-waist-under-a-large-poncho method of getting onto the flight… until they saw them!

Actually, getting the tyres to Heathrow and onto the flight proved to be quite an interesting exercise: After a hectic morning, finalising my veterinary cases and finishing off my packing, I was dropped off at Adisham, a small local country station. On trying to board the train I soon discovered that you can’t enter or leave a train – through a normal door – with an overweight suitcase in one hand, and a pair of oversize tyres under the other arm, while also wearing a solidly packed backpack. Something has to be left behind or first deposited inside the coach. And hope the train doesn’t take off in the meantime.

The conductor came around and sold me a ticket that included the fare for the underground all the way to Heathrow, which I thought was a good thing, as it should save valuable minutes spent buying a tube ticket in London.

I had a very tight schedule to get to the airport for my flight at 19:30. Getting to Victoria was easy enough and I arrived there still on schedule. So, all I had to do now was contend with the seething masses in peak rush-hour and, without wasting any time, get down into the underground station and onto the District Line tube. By the time I got through the dense crowds of commuters, down the stairs and on to the platform, I was sweating and puffing. London was hot and muggy. It was then that the wheels started falling off… the ticket didn’t go into the automatic gate opening mechanism! So I had to look for an official to let me through, or so I thought.

Eventually when I found someone, he politely informed me that I had to go back up to Victoria Railway Station and change my ticket for an underground one! I couldn’t believe my bad luck but set off in the direction I had come from cursing the conductor who had sold me the ticket for not telling me this. I got up to the railway station at 10 to 5 and joined the long, excruciatingly slow queue for ticket sales….

So eventually I got back to the automatic gates armed with a valid tube ticket. I even made sure it was a return (back into London) as by now I was sure I was going to miss my flight. It was going to be at least an hour on the tube to Heathrow.

I now discovered that the tyres were too tall to fit through the “baggage” slot, it could only cope with just the suitcase. So I had to sort of dash through the gates with tyres in front and backpack behind, hoping not to be cut off halfway through.

The tube up to Hammersmith, where one changes onto the Piccadilly line, was painfully slow; stopping for ages on one occasion. As there was no service to Rayner’s Lane, passengers had to use the Heathrow tube instead, so it was doubly packed. It was seven minutes in coming and I was not going to miss it for anything.

Eventually everyone was on except me but, within the wide doors where I was hoping to step in, was just a solid wall of bodies. I moved to the narrow door nearby and reckoned I could just about get in there… There were a few stifled groans as my baggage sort-of forged a path into the packed compartment, followed by me, apologising profusely. Hunched over to allow the tube doors to close behind me, I had to remain immobile for a few stations until sufficient people had disembarked to allow me to move a bit.

It was now after 6pm and Heathrow was still about eight stations away. Check- in would close an hour before the flight departed, at 7.30pm. Luckily the lines seemed to open up a bit and the driver sped up to a cracking pace, so there was just a chance I was going to make it. But I still had to have my ticket changed, check in, get the tyres to VAT reclaim, and back to check in. Finally, at Terminal One, it was a mad dash along the corridors and travelators with a trolley loaded with the 65-odd kg of luggage, up the ramps and into the lift, and then right across to the far end of the upper level. I was now sweating profusely and waited for ages while they changed the dates on my ticket.

At check in, nearby, I heard them giving a lady a very hard time about her excess baggage which it seems she had no money to pay for. This did not bode well. I needed to debulk the hand baggage as it also looked too big (you’re only allowed 7kg and I had double that), which meant putting on my fleece – to add to my discomfort. So, with some trepidation, I put my bag on the scales and explained that the tyres were going to VAT reclaim. The guy looked at them and said “they’re not very heavy are they?” with which I readily agreed…

Unfortunately he then thought better of it and said “well, put them on the scales anyway”… and as expected, he then told me I was over the weight limit. At this point I produced my letter from SAA Voyager which informed me that I was allowed 30kg extra baggage allowance – which he read with amazement, and reluctantly said “OK then”…..In fact I had already made enquiries to confirm what was on the letter and it seems that this was no longer applicable, in London at any rate! But I wasn’t letting on that I knew.

I was on the flight, tyres and all. As it was time for check-in to close, an airport official even escorted me to VAT reclaim, bypassing all the queues, and brought the tyres back to check in for me!

At SA customs there was no one around – at the precise moment I walked through – so I had no trouble there either!

After another recent trip to the UK, tyre number 3 has arrived with considerably less trouble than the first two. The lady behind the check-in counter at Heathrow exclaimed “Now I have seen it all”!

But there is still tyre number 4…….!

Views: 10

Body doubles, transplants and makeovers: 1936 Rolls-Royce 25/30 HP
_{A regal beauty}

Back before That War Rolls-Royce, and other vendors of upper-crust motor-cars, did things differently. Pre-empting the modern fad, for turning every feature a buyer wants into an “optional extra,” Rolls-Royce simply supplied bare engines and chassis’. Choice of coachbuilder, body style, and all the bits and bobs inside, was up to the buyer. He or she negotiated with a chosen body firm, typically Hooper’s or Vanden Plas, then let them get on with it and thereafter return the finished job to the dealer who did the final invoicing.

So it was that Commander C.H. Davey, RN, requested that his Rolls-Royce 25/30, Chassis No. GXM68, be built by Vanden Plas and modelled after his existing 20/25 four-door, four-light, saloon. Messrs. Jack Barclay Ltd of Hanover Square, London W.1, invoiced the completed car out to him on September 16, 1936. Typical list price at the time was £1605 complete, although options included a sliding roof for £20 or a drop-window divider priced at £25.

The car’s history is vague after that, undergoing an engine transplant and swapping homes between gentry and commoners, until we pick up its trail on 25th August 1956. That was when Mr A.G.B. Skinner bought it for £445 from Conway Motors (Hove) Ltd, of 107 King’s Road Chelsea.

Mr. Skinner shipped it to Cape Town, on the Bloemfontein Castle, shortly thereafter and promptly drove it via what is now Zimbabwe to present-day Zambia. Possibly as result of a cracked cylinder head – it has known a few of those during its lifetime – the car suffered engine failure while on a rally in South Africa during 1959. It was railed back to Kitwe for repairs.

The body rotted away, its wooden frame crumbling to powder, in subsequent years and he finally sold the car somewhere around 1965. By 1970, Nature and scavengers had reduced it to an unrecognisable hulk. (Left)

Then came salvation: In December of that year Captain Vic. S. Meakin, an airline pilot from Lusaka, Zambia, bought the car and set about restoring it. Originally a woodwork and metal-craft teacher before his career change, Vic Meakin was able to apply his considerable skills to restoring GXM68. He began the project soon after building a small workshop and carport in the back garden of his home in Lusaka. The engine overhaul came first – the list of parts required was long – there can’t have been much left of it when he began.

Five years of spare-time work later, the motor and chassis repairs were complete. He had also crafted a replica, Gurney Nutting-style, drop-head coupé body by adapting blueprints for a similar shell that had been designed for a Phantom 1. Nothing wrong with that; some humans have plastic surgeons resculpt their details with impunity. And there had always been body choices when the car was born.

But nothing came easily. In order to fabricate rear wings, for example, Vic first had to construct a wooden form and then hand-shape aluminum over that. The car eventually passed its roadworthiness test, in Lusaka, during June 1975.

The car was brought to South Africa in 1976 and used until late 1990 when Captain Vic ascended to the great hangar in the sky. GXM68 then passed to his daughter, ornithological artist Penny Meakin. Owing to more pressing issues in her life, however, it stood unattended because the recalcitrant cylinder head had developed hairline cracks yet again.

By then in Pietermaritzburg, work resumed during 2000 with a further attempt to repair the troublesome component. But several days had first to be spent releasing the clutch that should, apparently, have been ‘jacked out’ during storage. (Why does nobody tell one these things beforehand?). The rewelded head didn’t last very long, unfortunately, before water again contaminated the oil. The old warrior was off the road yet again. A replacement cylinder head was among many parts imported from UK suppliers or collected in the course of flying visits.

Penny’s husband, John Carlyon, regales anyone interested with an enthralling tale of one such trip that culminated in his arrival, in the “Items to declare” queue at OR Tambo International, sporting a pair of tyres looped over one shoulder. We may even post it someday. We did: https://oldcars.net.za/blog/2025/01/29/tyres-and-tribulations/

Once again restored, its current colour scheme was applied during March 2005 by M. Bizarre Panelbeaters in Pietermaritzburg. She is now a regal beauty in Volvo ‘Polar White’ with Rolls-Royce ‘Pacific Blue’ mudguards and stripes.

Penny’s heirloom has graced many shows, been written about in newspapers, transported blushing brides to weddings, ferried starry-eyed Matriculants to year-end dances, and now enjoys the pasture years to which every noble old Rolls is surely entitled.

Technical:
Country of origin: England
Number built: 1201
Engine: Inline-6, single-coil ignition
Block and head: Cast iron
Position: Front, Longitudinal
Aspiration Natural
Carburettor: Stromberg DC42 downdraft
Fuel pumps: 2 x SU
Electrics: 12V Rolls-Royce dynamo, starter motor, direction indicators and others
Battery: 12V/60A/hr. negative earth
Valvetrain: Pushrod Operated OHV
Displacement: 4257 cc / 260 in³
Bore/stroke: 89 mm/114 mm
Compression: 6.0:1
Power: 85.8 kw / 115 bhp at 4500 rpm
Zero to 60 mph: 23.5 seconds
Max. speed: Approx. 130 km/h / 80 mph
Fuel consumption, driven hard, 17.2 mpg
Fuel tank: 18 gallons
Specific output: 29.4 hp
Body / frame: Aluminium, over wooden frame
Driven wheels: RWD
Tyres: 600×19 cross-ply
Brakes: Drums, front and rear, w/Servo Assist under licence from Hispano-Suiza
Steering: Marles’ cam and roller
Suspension: Semi-elliptic springs, hydraulic dampers, Live axle at rear
Wheelbase: 3353 mm / 132 in
Transmission: Four-Speed Manual, synchromesh on third and fourth
Clutch: Borg and Beck single dry plate
Gear ratios: 3.10:1, 1.98:1, 1.32:1, 1.00:1
Final drive: 4.55:1
Propellor shaft: Hardy-Spicer

Views: 29

This article tells of how one couple adopted a 1973-1979 Daimler Double-Six 5.3 V12

_{This piece was written 21 years ago by a friend who is sadly no longer with us. As an “acquisition tale,” it’s a little different from the usual style of such things and certain details are perhaps not to be recommended. But it’s a cracker nonetheless.}

Geoff is my friend and neighbour. Even if he were not, I’d always be nice to the grumpy old codger because he has a beautiful, white E-type coupe in original, pristine condition. One day he may let me drive it. I hope he reads this.

On a warm winter’s day, in April, he and I set off from Nottingham Road, bound for the Cannon and Cannon Vintage Car Auction in Hilton. I had been there two days previously, when my eye had fallen upon a red 3.8 Mark 2 (Inspector Morse type) Jaguar. On closer inspection it was a bit of a “paint job”, but possibly worth a bid if it went cheap. It did not so I did not.

In passing I had noticed a golden Daimler Double Six with the bonnet up (usual mode). A quick glance revealed that the fan-ventilated battery-box was missing; so I looked no further. My mild interest stemmed from having driven my late father’s Double-Six in the ’80s. He had purchased it almost new, in part exchange for his old Sl Bentley.

Five years’ hard work finished off the Double Six; I suspect the Sl is still running. If someone has up-graded the front dampers and put on radial tyres, it may even be possible to drive it in a straight line and not have to avoid the cats’ eyes in order to do so. After 20 years’ use, the Sl sold well. After 5 years, the re-sprayed Double Six did not. British Leyland/Daimler/Jaguar designed some good cars; such a pity they could not build them so well.

At the Auction, the Double Six with bonnet down (unusual mode) had good, clean, upholstery and the original paint. As I looked into the boot, someone started the engine. I did not get covered in black exhaust. It runs; it is golden and good to drive, as fond memories remind me. The bonnet is up again and I discover the catch is faulty, which explains a lot!! I peer in, and mention to another peerer, that the battery-box is missing. A long explanation follows and I am shown a secondary electric cooling fan fitted for South African models.

We chat on: he must have been a Jaguar-Daimler Club member. He was polite, shaven, well dressed, probably rich, and far worse than all this, assumed I knew the engine well. I actually only knew the results of this monster; complicated, quiet power coupled with an insatiable thirst. The day was hot and time to attend to my own thirst.

Then I met the owner’s brother, the vendor himself, living in England and only using the car for a few weeks each year. The auto dealer who had had the Golden Monster in his showroom in Durban was also there. I talked to someone who had tried to buy it and sleuth (me) discovered how much he had offered, and had been refused.

I’m beginning to get excited, but must not show it. I think: “Don’t look at the car again or they’ll be on to you.” I eavesdrop on a conversation, “The gear box has been re-conditioned for R12,000 in Johannesburg.” The bidding starts. I melt to the back of the crowd, not easy when you are over six foot and weigh 18 stone.

I do not bid. In increments of R500, the price is rising steadily and so is my passion to possess this limousine. There is a pause in the bidding, I whack in a bid of R2,000 over the last offer. David Cannon bangs his clipboard shouting, “Sold to Mr. King at the back, but subject to the vendor’s confirmation”. I never saw the dealer or the vendor’s brother again …

A golden Daimler Double Six is back in the family … sign this … go to the office … the number plates are not included … sign again. Help, where is Geoff? Will he refuse me a lift home? Is he furious? Who cares; it will be nothing to what my first passion, my wife Chris, will say, when I tell her what I have done. Her last words, still ringing in my ears were, “Enjoy yourselves. Don’t buy anything”, but then the ‘phone rang and I was saved from answering her.

The next task is a plea to Cannon and Cannon to help preserve my marriage, if not my sanity (too late for that!) and let my Daimler stay until Monday – four days. They agree; they are fabulous people and they know Chris too! Geoff drives me home to the front door and promptly puts foot to his Mercedes Kompressor (coward) leaving me to face the storm.

It rages for a couple of days but there are calms and sunny periods. On day four we collect my passion and Chris almost smiles when she sees it. She concedes that she understands why I felt the passion, even if she cannot agree with my priorities. “You promised not to buy anything.” “Oh, No! I didn’t. You asked me not to buy anything, but I made no promises.” . . . . and so it went on, for hours.

When we arrive at the Country Club the golden monster attracts much interest. The bonnet opens un-aided and the crowds peer inside. Chris tries not to be impressed. At a Bonnets Up in Durban, I explain to all present the technicalities of the V12. Do they believe me? Are they just being polite, or are they as ignorant as I am?

Four months on, my passionate wife and I share this gilded chariot. Six months on, I refuse three times what I paid for it.

Does anyone in the club have a bonnet catch for sale? If so, please contact my wife. By e-mail.

-John King

==================================================
Some technical details:
Country of origin: GB United Kingdom

Make: Daimler (U.K.)

Model: Sovereign XJ Series II 1973-1979
Submodel: Double Six Series II 1973-1979
Class: full-size luxury / luxury car
Body style: sedan
Doors: 4
Traction: RWD (rear-wheel drive)
Dimensions & capacities
Length: 4945 mm / 194.7 in
Width: 1770 mm / 69.7 in
Height: 1375 mm / 54.1 in
Wheelbase: 2865 mm / 112.8 in
Front track: 1473 mm / 58 in
Rear track: 1488 mm / 58.6 in
Ground clearance: 178 mm / 7 in
Turning circle btw. kerbs 11.9 m / 39 ft
Drag coefficient Cd estimated by a-c: 0.46
Frontal area A estimated by a-c: 2.02 m2
Drag area CdA estimated by a-c: 0.929 m2
Trunk (cargo) capacity claimed: 481 lit/ dm3
Boot length: 902 mm / 35.5 in
Boot width: 1130 mm / 44.5 in
Kerb weight (without a driver): 1870 kg / 4123 lbs
Powertrain
Engine manufacturer: Jaguar V12 5.3-Litre
Engine type: spark-ignition 4-stroke
Fuel type: gasoline (petrol)
Fuel system: 4 carburettors Zenith-Stromberg 175 CDSE
Charge system: naturally aspirated
Valves per cylinder: 2
Cylinders alignment: V 12 SOHC
Displacement: 5343 cm3 / 326 cui
Bore: 90 mm / 3.54 in
Stroke: 70 mm / 2.76 in
Compression ratio: 9 : 1
Horsepower net: 186.5 kW / 254 PS / 250 hp (DIN) / 6000 rpm
Torque net: 408 Nm / 301 ft-lb / 3500 rpm
Fuel capacity: 91 litres / 24.1 U.S. gal / 20 imp. gal
Drivetrain
Gearbox: Borg Warner BW 12
Transmission type: automatic
Number of gears: 3
Standard tyres: 205/70 VR 15
Performance – Factory claim
Top speed: 225 km/h / 140 mph
0-60 mph (s): 7.5
0-100 km/h (s): 7.9

Views: 4

A golden anniversary review

Jaguar Mark 2: The Golden Anniversary

The Mini turned 50 in 2009, but so did two other British icons, the Triumph Bonneville and the Jaguar Mark 2. We look back on the Jaguar.

Originally published in The Witness Motoring on Wednesday November 18.2009

Fast, spacious, luxurious and affordable

While Minis captured the hearts of housewives, businessmen, race- and rally drivers and penniless students alike, it was Jaguar’s medium-sized family sports saloon, the Mark 2, that endured as an all-time classic.

Taking over in 1959 from the “2.4” and “3.4” saloons, later called Mark 1, Jaguar’s Mark 2 boasted improvements to suspension, handling, braking, rear axle and body styling. Unfortunately its increased weight saw it lose a little performance to similarly spec’ed Mark 1s.

Mark 2 was fitted with a choice of three versions of the classic XK engine. These were the short-block 2483cc unit, the earlier 3.4 litre and the bored- and uprated 3.8 litre motor. This developed 220 bhp (164 kW) and was capable of up to 125 mph (201 km/h) and zero to 60 mph in 8,5 seconds, making it the fastest production saloon in the world at the time.

While the smaller versions proved popular as family cars and as weekend motorsport machines, the 3.8’s performance and racing pedigree endeared it equally to bankers and to wealthy underworld leaders in need of nimble getaway cars. Needless to say, highway patrol police quickly adopted the 3.8 as weapon of choice on the UK’s unlimited-speed freeways of the time. Some found their way to pre-independence Rhodesia to defend the honour of law and order in that country as well.

Civilian Mark 2s were true to Jaguar’s mission at the time to provide fast, spacious and luxurious family cars at affordable prices; an element that fans might say is lacking today. Interiors were dominated by the obligatory spread of dials, across beautifully polished walnut instrument panels, and real leather upholstery. Unfortunately leather made way for vinyl in 1966 when bean counters insisted on lopping Pounds off showroom price tags to compete with upstart Rover 2000 TCs.

By 1967 the 2.4 and 3.4 litre cars were renamed “240” and “340” while the 3.8 was dropped to make way for the incoming XJ6. The new cars were identified by means of slimmer bumpers, while cylinder head and carburettor changes increased performance slightly. They were phased out in 1969.

Altogether, 83 976 Mark 2s were produced, including 2 050 shipped out to South Africa for assembly at the CDA plant in East London. An unknown number were exported, fully assembled, to Rhodesia. The “240” and “340” runout models accounted for a further 7 234, including seven “340/3.8” versions built to special order.

Jaguar Mark 2s featured in many movies, notably in chase scenes, while a particularly scruffy example starred in the 1980s cult film Withnail and I. On the small screen, Mark 2s were seen in episodes of The Professionals, The Avengers and The Baron. Most familiar to SA viewers though, was probably the clean-looking but mechanically suspect 1960 model 2.4 of the late John Thaw’s Inspector Morse character.

Morse was originally intended to drive a Lancia but no suitable example was available so a cheap, used, 2.4-litre Mark 2 was bought for the purpose. This was the basic steel-wheeled version with a vinyl roof added by the producers to cover cosmetic flaws. Its suspension and brakes were dodgy at best and was famously described by Thaw as “a beggar to drive.” The engine was no better, so the car was regularly pushed into scenes, with mechanical sounds overdubbed.

After the series ended, the car was given away in a raffle, then famously auctioned for £53 200, some £45 000 above its expected value, purely as result of its famous history. After a comprehensive rebuild, it sold again for “over £100 000”. When we last heard of it, the car graced the garage of property management tycoon Ian Berg, who made it available for shows and promotions across the UK.

Update: December 19, 2011

Owned by Australian publishing company, International Publishing Group, the distinctive car remained housed in the UK and featured in a cameo role in a prequel to the series. An ITV production entitled ‘Endeavour,’ its first episode was timed to coincide with the 25th anniversary of the first instalment.

Set in 1965, Shaun Evans played Morse as a junior detective who’d just dropped out of Oxford University and was investigating the disappearance of a schoolgirl. John Thaw’s daughter, Abigail, starred alongside Evans in the eight-season drama that piloted on 2 January 2012 and went on to become a fully-fledged series: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Endeavour_(TV_series)

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A nimble, sporty driving machine

Pics supplied by restorer

Updated, with additional material, on 2026-01-26

The first thing to know about MG TFs is that there were two versions. The first, introduced in 1953, was fitted with BMC’s 1250 cc XPAG engine that produced 43 kilowatts and 88 Nm. For a mid-1954 update that motor was switched out for the 1466 cc XPEG unit developing 47 kW and 106 Nm. The wizards of Abingdon also wanded away 39 kilograms of excess mass. That Chapman chappie’s “Just add lightness” Lotus Seven arrived in 1957. Just mentioning…

Here’s a tale about one man’s 1954 TF 1500:
People make plans. Life gets in the way. So it was with Ian Grieve. He’d planned, following school, to study medicine in Cape Town. Fate saw to it that he read the Hippocratic Arts at Trinity College, Dublin, instead. While there, he owned an MG TC and the damage, as they say, was done.

Back home in Pietermaritzburg life went on but, one day during the ‘seventies, the MG bug bit again. He bought a bundle of parts, supposedly a complete 1947 TC, firmly intending to reassemble them. They remained on shelves in his garage.

A more approachable project, a 1954 TF 1500, came his way a few years later. This was noticeably complete, standing on its wheels and recognisable. It just didn’t run and the fine old English Ash framework had succumbed to dry rot. He disassembled the car, during the ‘eighties, with imminent intent to restore.

Living unfortunately intervened again and the project was shelved. Literally. Grieve retired in 2007 after 40 years in family practice. Then, following a long-awaited extended safari into Africa, he looked around for something to do.

Life made up for past interferences by stepping in, with a Grand Sign, during a visit to Weekend Witness/VSCC Cars in the Park the following year. A magnificently restored TF, belonging to Charles Rilett, caught his eye and Grieve knew that the time had come. Work resumed in earnest during 2009.

Rust was brushed, buffed and cut away, rotten panels patched or replaced and most of the wooden framework remade in Meranti and heavy plywood. Genuine Ash doesn’t grow on trees ‘round here you know. How does one remake a wooden part that’s rotted away to a fraction of what it should be? Take what remains, measure carefully, then reconstruct according to the drawing in the parts book. Thereafter, trim and shape until it fits into the space provided.

The chassis had to be stripped of rust, repaired and repainted, while body parts required thorough cleaning, panel beating where necessary, and repainting or replating. Metal parts damaged beyond repair, or rusted away, were remade; using basic tools and old-fashioned ingenuity.

Then came the upholstery. Very little had withstood the ravages of time. As Grieve said: “I didn’t consciously learn new skills. I solved problems as I went along.”

New skills learned, or problems overcome, included spray-painting, panel beating, upholstery, soldering, parts fabrication, brazing, carpentry and rust removal.

Luckily, the MG’s wings were in good shape but among the items Grieve figured out how to reproduce were the pair of bonnet strip supports – those little brackets that the long centre hinge-pin of the bonnet fits into – at either end.

These were available from the old country at ‘only’ £9.15 each, plus sundry other charges, but it’s far more interesting to fettle from mild steel sheet for a few Rand. It wasn’t all ‘making do’ however; he admitted to having gathered and hoarded ‘a few’ MG parts over thirty-odd years.

A guaranteed way to spend heaps of money is the “cheque-book” route: It results in a car costing so much that one’s afraid to take it off its show trailer. Grieve did not subscribe to that notion. In his view, the whole point of nostalgia was revisiting the fun and sensations of driving cars you enjoyed when you were young.

That’s why his TF ultimately harboured a few pirated parts, non-imperial fasteners and perhaps even a modern alternative, here and there. The aim was to produce a nimble, sporty driving machine that he could enjoy, despite life’s little interruptions, for years to come.

“Migs” was completed, and ready to run, in May 2013.

Footnote: Ian Grieve passed away in 2022, aged 87, following a bout with bone cancer.

The numbers
Engine: BMC XPEG, 1466 cc naturally aspirated, Pushrod OHV, petrol
Fuel feed: Twin SU4, semi-downdraft, constant vacuum, carburettors
Power: 47 kW @ 5000 rpm
Torque: 106 Nm @ 3000 rpm
Drive: RWD
Gears: Four-speed manual with synchromesh on second, third and fourth
Clutch: Single dry plate.
Chassis: Steel box section; over-slung at rear
Body style: Two-door Roadster
Acceleration, 0-100 km/h: 18.1 secs
Maximum speed: 137 km/h (85 mph)
Average fuel consumption: 12.5 l/100 km
Measurements, L x W x H, mm: 3734 x 1518 x 1334
Wheelbase, mm: 2388
Kerb weight: 876 kg
Ground clearance: 150 mm
Tank: 54 litres
Quantities produced: 3400 x 1500 cc, 6200 x 1250 cc

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