Fri.04.08.08. I had phoned Mark in the morning to check whether it was possible to return the chassis to him after the sand blasting, thankfully he agreed. This meant that the previously planned morning agenda ran remarkably smoothly facilitating the pre-arranged meeting with Dave. The transporter fired up first time (I now leave the starting of the vehicle to Chris; so if anyone is going to screw up it won’t be me), by one o’clock, bang on schedule, we were entering JJ Bullens yard at Apply Bridge. This was a wide, open space, very roughly tended, partially enclosed by overgrown hedgerows, damaged broken trees, bordered on its northern boundary by 15 metre high but unkempt grass embankment. Inside was an assortment of semi derelict commercial buildings in spite of everything professing to be ‘working businesses’. Faded, flaking old signs above rotten wooden entrances. An odd mix, huddled side-by-side enclosing a muddy, unsurfaced open yard. A construction company supplying re-claimed building materials, a truck servicing and repair garage, a specialist engine tuning, spray and paint shop apparently exclusively supplied by a graveyard of old 70’s cars and vans.
This was a place of neglect, nothing could possibly prosper here. It was the film set of Mad Max beyond the Thunder Dome. Where amongst all of this was Dave? Sure enough, in one remote corner of the yard there was Dave with young Ron, who we guessed was his son. Wearing green, stained, torn overalls, crusty, weathered boots stripped down to steel toecaps, was a jovial, reddened, paint spattered face. “I’m Dave, whats want?” Ron and Dave smiled collectively both tuned to same wave band. I replied by reminding Dave that I had brought my chassis to be blasted questioning if had I come to the right place. “Aye lad, bring it up and put it in the sand pit over there, I’ll just finish this job and I’ll be with thee”. We placed the chassis on two old school desks in a depression that was lined on two sides by sand dunes, on one other side by an assortment of compressors, sand tanks, wheelie bins sheltered by an abandoned caravan. The final and fourth side opened onto the rest of the yard. Ron duly arrived with a huge coiled hose dumping it forcefully on the ground.
He then began to mix the various grades of sands in the storage reservoir preparing the way for Dave. As he approached, now sporting a battered yellow safety helmet, I began to record the moment on camera. “You’re not from the DHSS?” chuckled Dave. “No, the benefits agency” I responded. “I’m supposed to sheet up and seal off the area because of the noise, but I don’t bother: there’s a moaning old bastard over there who’s always complaining about the wind blown sand, but I just think fuck ‘im”. As the motor on the compressor fired up the sand rushed through the hose striking the metal full on.
What a fuckin’ horendous noise!! I’ve never heard anything like it. Bare handed, Dave worked his way along the chassis only pausing to blast the turrets and the prop shaft, which had been randomly propped up against the legs of the old desks. Obviously health and safety ‘regs’ were not statuary in the Thunder Dome. The chassis was inverted and the process repeated. We inspected the finished article with renewed enthusiasm and excitement. Before us lay a totally different piece of post war engineering technology. The jets of sand had brought the chassis back to the 21st. century. Clean, fresh metal where before was 40 years of grime and rust. Unfortunately, the blasting had revealed several other weak spots which now have been added to the snag repair list for Mark and Andy. We chatted with Dave regarding the next process. He confirmed that hot wax oil must be injected into all the sections of the chassis to prevent rusting from within. Externally, red lead, galvafroid or powder coating would be equally successful processes.
We offered to settle up but Dave needed Ron to tally up the bill (which we thought, at the time, was slightly bizarre: assuming the son /father, father /son thing?). He returned requesting the princely sum of £40.00. “Oh bollocks, I’ve only brought Fifties, I hope he has change” mumbled Chris. As Dave ambled back to his truck in search of a ‘tenner’ we both felt that the job was impossibly cheap anyway, so we generously suggested to ‘knock it off’ the next job. Waving the fifty-pound note in the air Dave, grinning, turned to us and said “I’ve never had one of these for ages, I’ve as much chance of spending this in Standish as curing aids, thanks lads”. The chassis was strapped on the transporter, Chris sparked up the engine, farewells were uttered and we slowly left the Thunder Dome having one last gaze at this surreal landscape we considered Dave’s last remark “They are flattening all of this in a few months to build a new housing estate”.
Our good fortune continued having returned to RG engineering we discovered the roller doors open, Andy had stayed on to work late instead of finishing early as was the normal practise on Fridays. The chassis was examined carefully after all the weak spots had been identified Andy nodded, “No problem”.
The day had gone so well we decided to return to Westmead for some more rubbing down. “Let’s try the screen on for one last time just to make sure that it will still tilt, I want to see the mechanism operating smoothly before we sign it off”. “Make sure you slide it in carefully, don’t force it, remember what I have told you, if you have to force it there is something wrong, slowly and gently, with loving consideration careful handling, apply a suitable lubricant if necessary” suggested Chris, the ‘agony aunt’ of the ‘News of the World’. “Perfect, that’s really good, how was it for you?” We stood back to admire this beautiful image of sexy, curved, sweeping lines that Chris had laboured long and hard to achieve. The, apparently, minor details had formed the sum of the whole, a real car, not a botched up kit. Once the backslapping had subsided, a realistic closer examination revealed that the screen sat higher on one side.
Bollocks, the brackets will have to be re-located, again!!!
The day had been so successful we did not want anything to turn sour. “It won’t be a problem, I’ll sort it” Although sounding quite confident, I knew that Chris secretly realised that all the problems of fitting this Morgan screen had returned to haunt us.
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