London to Brighton Veteran Car Rally in Phill & Gerri's 1904 Cadillac
by Ray Gomm
5.00 am on a Sunday morning is a ridiculous time to get out of a warm bed but on 6th November that's just what Anita and I did to take part in the 2005 London to Brighton Veteran Car Rally. After donning our Edwardian outfits which we'd hired a few days before we set off to St Albans to meet Phil & Gerri Barton and their 1904 Cadillac. It was already loaded up on the back of the truck and, with their daughter and son-in-law in a support car we set off for Hyde Park. Arriving at Park Lane, around 7:30 am we instantly added to the general traffic chaos by joining the other trucks completely filling the bus lane. The Caddy was off loaded, the support car put up in its place on the truck and John & Pauline (daughter and son in law) set off with the truck whilst Phil and I boarded the front of the Caddy and Anita and Gerri climbed in the back. As we joined the quite considerable early morning traffic for the short hop to the start line in Hyde Park it suddenly struck me just how dangerous these motors can be.
Whilst Anita and Gerri were snugly cocooned in the rear with sides, back and front - Phil had a steering wheel to hold onto yet I had nothing at all in front of me except an 18 inch high panel off the floor. Just enough to brace my foot against but nothing to stop me going straight over the bonnet in event of a collision. Even at 15 ~ 20 mph it would be nigh on impossible to stop myself flying into the road in front of the Caddy. So I dug my feet in tight and that's how they stayed for the rest of the day !!
Now before we get onto the trip itself I ought to explain a little about this 101 year car – like there’s no brakes on the front and just a band clamping the final drive at the back. A foot operated lever pushes a rod which attempts to stop the back wheels revolving. Gears ? forget it – this motor has a system of pulleys and belts which provide two ratios : first needs to be held until you think the entire body is going to shake itself apart and the fillings in your teeth are on the point of falling out. Then a swift kick on the floor pedal into second almost stalls the engine. It doesn’t have a carburettor as such – more a funnel into which fuel is dripped. What doesn’t get burnt just gets thrown overboard. There’s no conventional coil or distributor either – this single cylinder engine has a “trembler” which is a device akin to an old fashioned electric bell. Its job is to produce a continuous stream of sparks into the single cylinder, even on the exhaust strokes !! To keep the engine going the driver has to “chase the spark” which is an exercise where you have to try and match the engine speed to the current spark rate so as to develop power. And finally: lights. The single back light runs on paraffin although apparently Johnson’s Baby Oil burns cleaner. The two brass headlights run on sodium carbide wherein water and powder are mixed in an onboard “kettle” and the resulting gas is lit with a match to produce light. No brake lights. One other thing, it really is a “horseless carriage” - it’s entirely open topped with no windscreen or other protection from the rain and spray.
So there we were parked along side the Serpentine in Hyde Park awaiting starter’s orders. I got out my Camcorder and started filming. Once instructed our group of 10 cars, with us at the front, pulled up at the start line before being waved off with the Union Flag. With hundreds of people lining the route we left the Park and headed around Hyde Park Corner onto Constitution Hill. We waved to H.M as we drove passed the front of Buckingham Palace, along Birdcage Walk and onto Westminster Bridge. Crowds lined the route all the way, cameras were flashing non-stop and, like a scene from a 1950’s film, children and adults alike were waving little flags, clapping and cheering. From there we went down Lambeth Palace Road and finally onto the A23 to start our run to Brighton – and that’s when it started raining !!! And it really meant it. Phil and I were squeezed together on the small front seat. Whilst I was now wearing a waterproof Cagoule Phil was wearing an oilskin overcoat. The water was running down his coat and straight into the pocket of my jeans so within a few miles I was sitting in soaking wet jeans and boxers. Every other drop seemed to run down my legs and into my boots.
It was still quite warm and apart from getting soaking wet it was great fun. Within 10 miles or so we saw 40 or 50 of our fellow 506 “starters” broken down at the side of the road and I was just congratulating us on comparatively doing so well when disaster struck. The Caddy only has a little fuel tank, under the driver’s seat, so I suggested we stop at the Norbury petrol station and fill the jerry can. As I got off a motorist on the forecourt started yelling that we had a leak. Assuming it was just the obligatory oil thrown out of the overflow ( it does that ) I nodded and turned around to see a torrent of fluid pouring out from underneath.
It couldn’t be water – it doesn’t hold that much. It turned out to be petrol and gallons of the expensive stuff. Now to reach the fuel tap you have to get the ladies out of the back, take up the carpet and remove the wooden floor. That’s when we saw the problem. There was a solid copper pipe feeding petrol from the fuel tank to the cylinder. With all the vibration it had sheared off at one end. Fortunately, we were told that a 100+ RAC vans were on the route to give free assistance to all entrants. So we just had to wait. Well, just like London Buses we waited for 40 minutes and three came along together.
Now to be fair these guys were not used to working on these vehicles but a little common sense wouldn’t have gone amiss. One took of the union joint and removed the short broken piece of pipe to find it secured with a compressed olive. Whilst he worried about where he could get another 100 year old olive I suggested simply crunching the bit of pipe with pliers until the olive fell off. That done he then tried to fit the olive back on the existing piece of pipe: NO GO the olive had obviously been compressed. So while 3 RAC guys watched I opened up the olive over a conical file. Once refitted we were on our way again - and it was still chucking it down.
We were now at least an hour and a half behind schedule but Phil was getting the hang of this beast. Before today Phil had only driven the Caddy around the block so he was learning on the job – so to speak. We trundled on occasionally hitting the heights of 20mph, the three inch wide rubber tyres on their wooden spoked wheels desperately trying to keep a grip on the flooded roads. We managed to get into a skid when a badly placed road sign directed us into a sharp turn – but with rally driving excellence Phil corrected with opposite lock and I held on tight.
Somewhere around Croydon I sensed a difference in the engine note – just something I couldn’t put my finger on, a sort of hiss on each stroke. I kept my concerns to myself and concentrated on wiping the rain off my glasses. We reached the notorious Reigate Hill and saw fleets of RAC vans ready to tow the veterans up to the top. Phil took a run at it but halfway up it became apparent we were losing power. To ease the burden by 20 stone I jumped off and jogged alongside like some US President’s bodyguard running alongside his master. It helped, the 101 year old car left my 52 year body behind and I thought they would make it. Half way up, at the lights the engine died. We pushed it onto the side with another retiree and there were the same three RAC men we met first time. For the next 45 minutes we each took it in turns to swing the starting handle but the Caddy was having none of it. It just felt like there was no compression left in the engine. Then it fired and we could hear and see the problem. A hole had developed at the head of the cylinder around the spark plug. Black soot was being thrown out of the hole and that explained both the loss of compression and my earlier suspicion of a different engine note. A new spark plug was tried but the leak persisted indicating that it would need a new cylinder head. A combined effort got it started with just enough power to get Phil to the top of the hill. The ladies and I walked. When we got to the top a very disconsolate Phil pointed out that he’d also got a puncture on those final yards. With a busted engine, no compression, a flat tyre and no spare wheel it was time to call it a day. John. Pauline and the pickup were summoned and we all headed home.
It had taken us nearly seven hours to do about 27 miles but we’d had a lot of fun and learnt so much about real motoring. Roll on next year - I just hope it doesn’t rain.
Our thanks to Phil and Gerri for a great day and our commiserations to John and Pauline who didn’t get their turn to ride on the Caddy – but at least they stayed dry.
The DVD will available shortly.