The misadventures of a fatbloke and 13/60 Herald named Poppy

[rich.]

you have kids mike? get them to help.. younger smaller & will help develop an interest in old cars .. my kids are always helping me

[Fatbloke]

I have two daughters 19 and 16 who used to enjoy helping me but since becoming teenagers, seem to have developed an aversion to oil/Petrol/cleaning products etc.

Happy to go for rides so I am grateful for that but no longer interested in the work or car shows.

[kstrutt1]

My 16 year old daughter will clean the cars for the right fee!

[rich.]

my kids dont have the choice... but neither do i eldest started at 2 months old helping change the pads etc on my old rx7... im still unsure how she ended up with a mouthfull of copper grease..

[jpsh120]

Great write up, very entertaining!

Why is Phil (the power) Taylor sat on your garage floor...oh wait that must be you!!

Any chance of you making the Footman James show at Shepton Mallett show on the 14th & 15th of June??

[Fatbloke]

Thanks JPSH.

Yes. Poppy and I are hoping to make it down on the Saturday. It'll be the furthest she will have ventured in quite a while so I hope we make it!

Edit: That rather gives away the end of the story doesn't it. Sorry chaps!

[Fatbloke]

The Merlot came up trumps again and advised me to stop wasting time and money tracking down yet another original pump/switch and fit an electric one. A quick search of the great bay of e turned up a pump, push button switch and a bracket to mount it under the dash all with the promise to be delivered on Tuesday. I also knew that I would be able to source the required wire and terminals from work. (Automotive wiring harness manufacturer remember.)

Sunday morning found me back at the lock-up gazing thoughtfully and fearfully at the offending steering gaiter. There was no getting around it. Despite all the tales of doom on the internet, I would have to get on and replace it with the new one waiting in the box in the boot. The gazing had also revealed the need to remove the offside engine valance to give me room to work around the gaiter. To remove the valance I would have to remove the radiator… yet again! I was getting quite expert at draining and removing the radiator by now (and quite fed up with having to do so!) so it was soon all done…again.

With Poppy’s front end resting on axel stands again, and room to work, I was back in action with my trusty ball joint splitters (I love this tool!) and ball joint was split without damage to the new TRE gaiter. The TRE position on the track rod was marked with correction fluid raided from my daughter’s stationary supplies and TRE was removed. I was now able to remove the old gaiter which confirmed the internet horror stories about how difficult it was to get the new gaiter onto the housing. The previous person to fit it had cut off the narrow end of the gaiter and cable tied the 1st “bellow” onto the housing.

I wasn’t going to resort to these dirty cheating tactics though. Oh no. I was determined to prove I was made of sterner stuff! After about an hour of wrestling and the use of 3 rolls of paper towels to remove the grease from hands and gaiter, which was making it impossible to handle, I was no closer to success. A cup of tea was poured from my thermos and contemplation began.

Inspiration struck. In our factories, when we want to fit a grommet to a harness, we have a nifty tool for stretching the grommet until the hole is large to fit over the harness. (Funnily enough it is called a “Grommet stretcher”) Obviously I didn’t have one of these tools in the lock up but could I improvise one? A search of my puncture repair kit turned up 4 plastic bicycle tyre levers. If I could position these around the housing at one end with the other in the gaiter mouth, the mouth would be stretched as I pushed the gaiter onto the housing and tyre levers until it was in the correct position when I could simply slide out the tyre levers leaving the gaiter snugly fitted to the housing. After another hour of wresting, the answer was clear. Being somewhat less endowed in the arm department than an octopus, I could not improvise a grommet stretcher using 4, or even 3 plastic bicycle tyre levers. Bad words were said. The tyre levers were ejected forcefully through the lock-up door narrowly missing the local cat. Another cup of tea was poured and further contemplation embarked upon. The temptation to take the Stanley knife to the gaiter was getting ever greater but I resisted manfully.

I was on my 2nd cup of tea after the abortive tyre lever attempt and reaching almost Zen like levels of concentration when inspiration struck again. No, really, it did this time. I had hatched a plan so cunning that I was in serious danger of ruining my carefully cultured reputation for being an incompetent bumbling fool.

What if I folded the gaiter back on itself so that the wider diameter bellows section could be offered up? I could then simply unfold the narrow part of the gaiter back over itself again and onto the housing. Well I thought about it some more but couldn’t come up with anything more cunning than this.

I cleaned all remaining grease from my hands and carefully turned the end of the gaiter inside out. I offered it up to the housing and, holding my breath, I carefully unfolded it onto the housing all the way round…it worked…it was in place…turning slightly blue in the lips as I was still holding my breath, I quickly grabbed the cable tie supplied by Canley’s with the gaiter and fitted it tightly around the snugly gaiter wrapped steering rack housing. I carefully let go. It didn’t all suddenly fly apart. I started breathing again as I was about to pass out. It was all still fitted. I cable tied the other end of the gaiter to the track rod and still nothing had exploded free.

I carefully refitted the TRE and assembled it to the steering arm. I refitted the engine valance and radiator and topped up with the correct water anti-freeze mix…again. And STILL the new gaiter was in place. I had done it. I had succeeded when the previous chap had failed. I had succeeded when seasoned weekend warriors on the other forums had failed. I was Supermecahnic…NO…I…was…an…auto…motive…GOD! I was quite chuffed!

I was home in time for a long soak in the bath with a celebratory pint of Gin and Tonic whilst Mrs FB put the finishing touches to one of her superb Sunday roasts.

To be continued…

[Fatbloke]

I was in work early on Monday morning and as expected, I had soon located everything I would need to fit the electric washer pump. It was all in the scrap bins to be thrown away…honest!

I booked the Tuesday off work and optimistically booked the MOT and set up some insurance. Then had to try and concentrate to do some work, which wasn’t easy!

Tuesday morning found me sat on the front door step waiting for the postie. I eventually saw her sauntering up the road in her own good time. Didn’t she realise I was in a hurry? I snatched our post off of her and threw anything that didn’t look like it contained my goodies into the house, Jumped into the Honda and left the surprised looking Postie in my dust.
On arrival at my lock up I set to immediately. Out came the drill and the pack of Tesco Value drill bits that I’d bought on a whim some time ago. Unfortunately, Tesco Value drill bits are made of chocolate. The 1st one snapped before I’d even pressed the trigger on the drill and the 2nd one didn’t last much longer and barely scratched the paint.

Fortunately, we have one of those very rare independent hardware stores on our High Street. (Well it is ROYAL Wootton Bassett after all). It is a family run business called Rouse and Sons and is an Aladdin’s cave of goodies. It stocks everything from 5 bar gates and animal food troughs down to a packet of washers. Oddly, It also has a well-stocked kitchen department and as baking is my 2nd hobby, I have been known to spend days mooching around in there. Not today though, I purchased my new non-chocolate drills and was soon back at the lock up and had everything fitted wired and plumbed in very fast time.

Poppy was now ready to be offered up for judgement to the man from the ministry. I drove her out of the garage and ventured onto public roads for the 1st time in 3 years. The ½ mile to the test centre was covered faultlessly. After a final satisfactory prod of the washer button and horn, I handed over the keys and set off on the walk home with a heart mostly full of dread and, dare I say, just a little hope.

After 90 of the longest minutes of my life, the phone rang. I picked up the receiver to a cheerful sounding mechanic. I worry when they are cheerful. “I’m sorry to say that she has failed” he said, not sounding the least bit sorry. My heart sank to the floor. Whilst she’d been on the axel stands I had cast my inexpert eye under her and not spotted any gaping holes in the floor or chassis but what did I know, I’m just an incompetent bumbling fool and visions of an expensive weldathon flashed before my eyes. I forced back the tears and with bottom lip a-trembling and a very un-manly squeaky voice, I heard myself say “What on?” “The washers. They don’t work at all” he said, still sounding annoyingly cheerful. “That’s odd” I said. “They were working when I dropped it off…You did spot the electric pump didn’t you?” “Ahh…Hold on a minute” he put the phone down and I heard his footsteps fading into the distance. After a short pause, I heard his footsteps returning and he picked up the phone again. “I’m pleased to say that she has passed” he said, not sounding at all pleased!

The roller coaster of my emotions had taken me to the top. I was on cloud nine. I grabbed my insurance documents and V5 and skipped back up to the test centre.

With hindsight maybe skipping wasn’t such a good idea. The sight of a fat bloke skipping along the street does draw some rather funny looks. Several small children and animals were terrified and the emergency services received 15 calls reporting a minor earthquake in the North Wilts area but I didn’t care. I had found my holy grail and it had a ministry stamp on it.

I got to the garage and picked up my keys and the fresh ticket. I left them in no doubt about how happy I was. It’s OK though. The restraining order they took out only lasts six months so I should be able to take Poppy back for her next MOT test.

Clutching all my necessary documents I skipped across the road to the post office and only one pensioner showed any signs of distress as it was just a short skip. Still grinning stupidly I handed over my documents and said my most favourite words of classic ownership. “Can I have my free tax disc please?” A very short time later, I was cruising around the local B-roads in a fully road legal Poppy with 10 days to spare before the Prom and a stupid grin that the doctors are still trying to remove.

I shall now let you bask in my glory and gaze upon my Ministry of Transport certificate of roadworthiness. You may also marvel at the complete lack of advisories.

[kevin]

Its a great feeling eh

well done

Kev

[Fatbloke]

One of the best Kev. Looking back on it, I think I actually really enjoyed the whole thing!

Thanks to all on the forum that took the time to answer my inane or plain stupid questions and thanks to Canley Classics whom I highly recommend for service AND price.

The last weekend before the Prom found Poppy back in pride of place on the drive at home next to a huge pile of cleaning products. (Halfords had a 3 for 2 offer!) As the weekend progressed The pile of cleaning products diminished as Poppy 1st returned to being red and then became steadily shinier and sparklier and she was almost ready for the Prom the following Friday.

A quick wipe over on the afternoon of the Prom and now, she was ready to transport my youngest to her big night. Poppy got her there in style and performed faultlessly. Again both Poppy and my daughter received lots of positive comments and a great night was had by all.

em pops prom.jpg (83.69 KiB) Viewed 1919 times

And that brings my tale up to date. Thank you for taking the time to read my ramblings and I hope you have enjoyed it. I plan to keep you updated as and when there is anything to report.

I hope now to have a summer of fun drives and a few shows. Footman James at Shepton Mallet next Saturday! See you there?

Jobs still to do?

Well there is now next to no padding at all in the front seats so I have managed to convince Mrs FB to help me do those as our winter project...finally!

The nearside headlamp has now blown so may be an excuse to fit a halogen conversion?

The heater no longer works so I will take that off and try and get that sorted as another winter project.

And of course, the gearbox is still suffering from incontinence...

There is also a very faded and sad looking Morris Minor that is sat on an old chaps drive down the road. it doesn't look too rusty..what do you think?...