The arrival - Restoration 28/04/2007
Last Updated on Sunday, 04 July 2010 17:01 Written by Nige Sunday, 04 July 2010 15:11
The memories of this Spit from when I was young are etched into my brain. I've been dreaming of owning this since I was a young boy. I remember running around the back of where my gran lived to the group of garages where my uncle Bill used to keep her (The car, not my gran).
I remember steering down the cul-de-sac whilst Bill operated the pedals. This car took Bill around the Country racing, auto testing, drinking (hey, it was the 60s), courting and much more.
I had to wait for around thirty seven years, knowing that this Spit was locked away in a garage. On 28th April 2007 I finally got my hands on her.This was a dream moment for me. I swear that I'd thought about it once a day since I was a kid.
As you can see, it was in a pretty sorry state. After being stored in a garage, bric 'a' brac piles growing around it over the years, there are several dings, from falling objects. The red paint that was put on sometime between 1968 and 1970 was peeling away in places revealing the original Lichfield green. Filled with spares like a skip, and looking sorry for herself we loaded her onto the transporter that I'd hired to get her home.
After an epic journey of two miles, we arrived at our place and proceeded to unload. She was difficult to push due to the dried up brakes and flattening tyres. Once in the garage the seemingly enormous task ahead of me hit home. I'd always remembered her as she was, this was a pile of junk that needed to be made into the dream.
The rest of the day was spent thinking about the best way to go about this restoration. I'd never performed a full restoration before. I'd owned two Spits already, but had only done mechanical work in situ. I didn't have a garage before and all work had to be done kerb side. This limited options to those that could dodge rain downpours.
I sat and dreamed of where I wanted this to be. I imagined the sound, and the look that I wanted. From the outside she was to look original. The cockpit was to be original with a slight personal twist and the engine was to be kept as the original 1147cc one, but uprated enough to cope with modern traffic speeds and town dawdling.
I determined that I was going to do a full body off restoration. Every last nut and bolt would be removed, every part restored, or replaced and all work possible within the realms of perceived, or learned skill and available resources. I would learn new skills and at least try before passing any work on to others. This is what I determined, but as you'll see throughout this series of articles, it wasn't to turn out quite like that.
There were certainly plenty of spares. Looking at her I imagined replacing only the perishables, disposables and gaskets. The bodywork was going to be the tough one. I wanted her back to Lichfield green, the doesn't need any more red Spitfires. There was lots of rechroming and chrome replacement needed and the floors and sills were most definitely suspect.
Nothing much was done today, just a good look over and a few lists and imaginings made. This was a day that I'd waited for, for a long, long time. Was it worth the wait. Abso-fekin-lutely it was. I was off and there wasn't much else on my mind for the next three years.
As you'll see, the stripdown was to start very soon after this. Three years of this restoration fighting me every step of the way. Circumstance held me back many times adding months to the overall restoration time. Through it all, I shouted, stropped, put the missus through hell and poverty and ended up in debt. Sound hellish? Noooo, not at all, it was a learning pleasure with rewards a plenty.
Maxine, my wife, has always managed to put up with my all encompassing obsessions, but this has probably proven to be the most expensive and all encompassingly obsessive. Without her support this could never have happened. I thank her from the bottom of my bottom. I bow down to the greatness that is Max and ask her not to hit me too hard if I ever lay out all of the receipts in front of her.
Nige
