Gearbox latest

I few weeks ago I took my gearbox to Jez at Carrera Performance. I knew synchromesh on 3rd gear was very tired, and his brief was to open the unit up, and let me know what was needed for a rebuild. I've been on tenderhooks ever since; bits for these units can be very expensive, and severe wear can render the casing scrap. 

So it was relief I learned this week that the gearbox internals were in good condition, and all it need was a few synchromesh rings - in fact about the least I could have hoped to get away with. It should be back with me in a couple of weeks. 

An aside I was interested to hear a comment Jez made when we were inspecting the 'box, comparing the weight favourably to the later G50 units. From what I'm able to tell, the various weights as follows;

• G50 gearbox used in the later Carrera 3.2s                                                        ~70kg
• 915 gearbox with aluminium cases used in the SCs and first 3.2s                ~58kgs
• 915 gearbox with magnesium cases used in the '72 and '73 911s                ~50kgs

The stronger aluminium cases were adopted when Porsche started to worry about the torque of the bigger engines, but from what I can tell from other owner's experiences, with sympathetic use the mag  alloy cases do just fine. Certainly losing 20-odd kilograms from the tail of the car can only be a good thing.

SS7

Blast

I removed the final few bits and pieces from the car and it was ready for cleaning. The yellow paint coating the car appeared to be a single stage acrylic that was either applied by an amateur, or a dealer looking to give the car a cheap once over for a sale. 

In any case it was a poor job; there's overspray everywhere and preparation around the door shuts etc was woeful. If I was ever to achieve a decent end result it all needed to come off 

Mechanical methods are too time consuming and really only used where the bodywork is very fragile or extremely precious. I was left with a straight choice; blast cleaning or dipping. The latter involves dropping the shell into a foul caustic concoction that will remove anything that isn't metal; underseal, seam sealer, rust, paint all disappears leaving clean, fresh metal behind inside and out. The shell is then rinsed, and once any repairs are completed. is dipped again in a rust proofing base coat. 

Im sure there are companies out there doing this very well, the problems arise when the capillary action takes the acid up into seams and between panels deep in the structure of the car. There it lurks, and often doesn't reappear until much, much later when your freshly restored car starts weeping rust from the seams.

Blasting on the other hand also has disadvantages. Obviously it won't touch the inside of any box sections, and a heat generated by heavy handed operator can distort panels, easily wrecking a shell. The media - generally a dry, fine sand - gets everywhere too. 

In the end I decided to use a blast cleaner recommended by a DDK mate; De-Corrosion Services in Chertsey, West London.  They've done a couple of old 911s - in fact they'd already cleaned the panels I'd taken off the car earlier. Their offer to collect and deliver the shell sealed it - finding someone to move wheel-less old cars isn't easy. So one sunny day in April the shell on its dolly was strapped onto a trailer and taken away. 

It would very different the next time I saw it.


SS7

911 Project Update

Well the telecom companies have finally managed successfully to install broadband into the new abode. Much like hangovers, the pain and nervous exhaustion brought on by every house move is enough to make me swear never to do it again. I didn't make things any easier this time by dismantling the old Porsche before moving it from garage to garage. Not only are a dozen crates full of components littering the house, but body panels decorate almost every room. And the only option for moving the 'car' - in reality a bare rolling chassis - was for me to push it down the road while one of the younger SS7s sat on a wooden box and steered. The proximity of the 'new' house to the old one - 400m at most - was a definite bonus. As I write, 200kgs of 911 engine still sits on the floor of the old garage. 

The actual project - removing only the glass and parts essential for new paint, and refreshing the mechanicals - has progressed to a full blow restoration. My reluctance to take the final step of stripping the car of its wiring loom, braking system and all of the running gear wilted in the face of determined opposition from the DDK crew. 

Here's a picture of the car. Its on the driveway sitting on a dolly ready for the next stage of the project.

More next time.

SS7

It's not me.....

This time the lack of posts isn't down to my usual sloth and indolence, but BT's inability to provide a phone line or broadband to the new SS7 towers for 2 months.

Normal service will resume soon.

SS7

911 Project - Heavy Metal

As is almost inevitable with projects like this one, I have underestimated the amount of effort it would involve.  However, unlike many restorations of old cars, I have had no nasty surprises. You see, by some fluke of good fortune my 40 year old 911 is practically rust free. 

I've held out making this announcement for a long time. Internet doom mongers will tell you there are only two types of old 911s - rusty ones and those where the owner hasn't found the rust yet. 

Here are a couple of shots I've taken from a DDK thread on the restoration of a 1972 car - it gives you an idea of what can be expected under a car that looks nice and shiny on the top. All of the complex structures that give the car its integrity have corroded. I'm reminded of fine Belgian lace - the consequences of a serious impact just don't bear thinking about. Here's the area of floor under the pedals:

 And here's a view from under the back of the car, the two rear seat pans and most of the rear shelf have simply disappeared. However, there are some amazing craftsmen working on old 911s in the UK at the moment, and this one will be repaired. The increasing value of the cars, even of the lowly 911T also means this sort of effort is (almost!) financially viable. 

My car appears to be the exception to the rule. From what I know and can deduce of its history, the car was originally delivered to California in late 1973, and appears to have spent recent years in storage. This benign existence has spared the car the worst ravages of the weather, and as a result much of that metal is just as it left the factory.

Over the past few weeks I've removed panels (front wings, doors, boot, bonnet, bumpers and sunroof), dropped the engine and gearbox, taken out the fuel and oil tanks, taken all of the trim out including the headlining, stripped the dashboard, and extracted most of the wiring harness.  

Original silver finish in the luggage compartment

The car is now almost down to the bare shell, which has enabled me to get a good look, bar one small section under the rear window, all of the the usual 911 rustspots are clear. Not trusting my own judgement, I've had a couple of expert second opinions, and both were agreed. The car is almost completely rust free.

Trim out and partway through stripping the heater mechanism

The fuel tank support area still show solid metal

The vulnerable windscreen support areas look good

Just surface rust in the rear seat pans

Apart from some dents, the floors under the sound proofing are like new

The pedal area is good

Rear shelf, the only remaining worry. There's a box section here, perished window seals and soundproofing that soaks up any leaks is a perfect 911 killing combination. The full picture will be revealed when the blast cleaners have finished.

This happy news means that I will not have to budget for any serious body repairs. I have also decided that it is worth doing the job properly. While my initial thoughts were to do only enough dismantling to allow a decent paintjob, I have now decided on something approaching a full restoration. This will involve taking off the remaining components and running gear, and mounting the bare shell on a dolly. I'll then have the shell blast cleaned, inside and out, before a full re-paint. Only the thick and high quality rubberised underseal protecting the bottom of the car will remain.

SS7

911T Project - Gearbox

In spite of the diversions caused by running around in £100k 991s, I'm still making progress on the 911 project. In fact there has been some noticeable 'mission creep' as my initial hopes that the shell was in good condition were confirmed. More details to follow......

With some help from one of the DDK crew, I dropped the engine and gearbox out last week. 

The 911 engine come out from underneath.
First you need to get the car up high.....

Yesterday I took the gearbox to Jez at Carrera Performance in Horsham to take a look at. The synchromesh on 3rd gear is tired so before I re-install the gearbox in the car I want an idea of its condition. Hopefully the cases will be in good nick, and a refresh won't involve serious (or expensive) machining work. 

The 1973 model year cars were built in the last of the completely engineering-led, money-no-object days at Porsche.  From 1962, product development and competition efforts had been led by old man Porsche's grandson, Ferdinand Piech. His energy and determination were incredible, and the level of development applied to the 911 over the next decade were, to modern eyes, extraordinary.  

Increases in engine capacity you would expect, but over time the car got lighter and even more costly to build. A large part of that was a move from aluminium cases for the engine and gearbox to expensive but lighter magnesium alloy - at one point the largest mag alloy casting ever made. Countless other improvements and developments were also applied to all aspects of the cars - it must have had the cost accountants screaming in their sleep. 

The introduction of the 2.4 litre cars in 1972 brought with it a completely new design of gearbox. Known as the type 915, these units were based on Porsche's racing experience, and were used in 911s for the next 16 years, before being replaced by the easier to use (and much, much heavier) G50 'box.

Mag alloy 915 unit. Lovely castings

An anecdote from John Wyer's book illustrates Piech's approach nicely. During the discussions that preceded JWR's 917 factory campaign for 1970, Wyer was asked how many cars his team would need for the season. Basing his answer on his experience of racing Ford GT40s for Gulf the previous year, he answered "Three; two race cars and a spare". 

At that there was a long, slightly awkward silence. 

Wyer learned later that under Piech's perfectionist regime, Porsche had been using brand new cars at each round of the sports car championship, and had built over 30 racing 908s in 18 months as a result. 

In 1972 Piech left Porsche to go to Audi. Internecine politics had clearly become a problem at the company as various members of the Piech and Porsche families vied for influence. Finally an agreement was reached that resulted in all family members leaving the company. 

Piech of course went on to build a stellar career in the motor industry; at Audi he drove development of the Quattro, and then in 1993 he moved on to head the VW group, where his determination to build a 1000PS car capable of 250mph inspired his engineers to create the fantastic Bugatti Veyron. Ironically, as a result of the catastrophic hubris of Porsche CEO Wendelin Wiedeking and his finance goon Holger Haerter, the VW group now own the company, ending 80 years of independence.

Meanwhile, back at Jez's, he had a couple of 915 gearboxes in for attention at the moment. It makes sense for him to do them at the same time, so he'll get mine cracked open pretty quickly and let me know what it looks like.

We also discussed various options for blast cleaning the body shell and zinc phosphate coating the bare metal. There's a local company he has suggested talking to about taking on the work. They have just completed a VW Type 1 van which Jez is restoring and he seemed pleased with the quality of the work. 

After that it was a short drive down the A272 to the painters (passing over the hump backed bridge where I'd briefly got two wheels of my BMW GS off the ground) located in farm buildings on the outskirts of a Sussex village. My brief to them has changed - they now won't be responsible for cleaning the shell, but will be painting both the interior and front compartment. 

The painter seemed pretty chilled, and the price quoted will stay about the same. They also have metalwork skills which might be useful if it saves me from moving the car one more time. In fact they had a race BMW CSL in that was mostly constructed of tackwelded re-inforcement tubes, so much of the original metalwork has been cut out. 

In another corner there was a competition prepared Mk1 Escort shell ready for paint. The lumpen old cast iron Ford gearbox casing was a noticeable contrast to the 911's complex webbed magnesium alloy one. 

More soon.

SS7

Six days with a 911 - Part 2

Continued from here

Wednesday. Today the car goes back to Porsche GB's base in Reading. 

My nine year old's reputation is made when I take him to school in the 991, although reputation for what isn't clear to us. Sitting outside the school I cannot help noticing the glances from the yummy mummies as wait I for the usual parking scrum of MPVs and SUVs to untangled itself.  But no-one comes up to ask me about the car. I think its an English thing, either a unwillingness to make waves, or a willingness for envy - take your pick. 


I'm lucky in many ways, and one is living within close proximity to the great driving roads that thread along the Sussex and Hampshire downlands.  I plan a route back to the OPC that should finally give me an opportunity to extend the 991 a little. The temperature indicated on the dash is still only just above freezing, but the cold dry air now being sucked across the UK from Siberia has removed the wet sheen from the tarmac that had featured over the weekend.  

I pause to take some photographs before cutting north west on fast open roads towards Winchester. As I build speed, the big 3.8litre six changes from torquey traffic slugger to race car howler, rushing the 991 through 3rd gear, and given the space, into 4th and then 5th, before braking hard and blipping the responsive engine back down through the gears for another village 30 limit. The light traffic I encounter is clinically dispatched, and for once my progress isn't marked with flashing lights and waved fists as the overtakees in their mean little hatchbacks realise the futility of attempts to show their puritan disapproval. For once I do notice of the odd creak and dull clunk from below, revealing the cabriolet's compromised rigidity, and the chassis is on occasion confused by some combination of lumpy tarmac, giving rise to an unmistakable hip wriggle of the rear biased mechanical layout.  And even in these open roads I'm always aware of the width and size of the car, it refuses to shrink around me, the invisible nose and tail just slightly too far away, constraining progress as soon as the road narrows. But we make impressively rapid progress, this car and I - borderline ballistic. I drink deep from the heady well of 400bhp, pushing again and again as hard as visibility and self preservation allows.  

But I experience disquiet too. The numbers flashing up in the digital speedo are not those I am going to be able to repeat on a regular basis without facing the possibility of jail time or an accident reassembling a satellite crash. When one's method of transport will reach 115mph in 3rd gear with four ratios still to go, there is little satisfaction to be found in burbling along at 40 or 50 mph, or even the 60mph national single carriageway limit. 

Reaching the M3, I turn north east, switch off the exhaust valve and burble in 7th along with the faster motorway traffic,  letting the adrenaline rush fade and wondering if the journey wouldn't have been more satisfying in my 964, or even my old yellow 911T - even if I would have been travelling 30mph slower. For the record, at this point the trip computer shows a 17mpg trip average, compared to the 24mpg I'd become used to.

Grey car, greyer day.

Several hundred words of amateur 991 driving impressions, and not a mention of the electric steering I hear you ask? Introduced with the 991, the system is engineered to a better level than those used by manufacturers of family hatch-backs, Porsche making an effort to allow some feedback to run up from the contact patch up to the rim of the steering wheel. The effect is definitely different, it's possible to position the car with great accuracy but there's a muted artificiality to the response, even a helpful Gran Turismo driver aid style nudge every now and again. However the new rack never dominates - much more noticeable is the non-linear character of the rack - turning into low speed right angled urban corners takes place with a rapidity that surprises me at first and takes some getting used to.

Writing this a day later I suspect that had the 991's electric steering system not been such a controversial feature I wouldn't have noticed it against the background of the car's overall step change in usability and refinement. 

I wait in the Reading Porsche Centre's showroom while the road salt is washed off my 964 (Porsche's PR department had brokered the loan of it to a magazine - my use of a 991 in its stead was the quid pro quo) and I drink good OPC coffee and wander around looking at the other 911s on display, most heavily optioned coupes with prices well into six figures. 

I look forward to learning how the 964 will feel in contrast, and I also worry that experience of the new would spoil my enjoyment of the old. 

It's time to go. Climbing in to the old car, my first impressions are immediate, the cockpit is so much smaller and closer to me that the first thing I do is try to move the front seat back 6" on its runners. The immediate clunk reveals it is already as far back as it will go, and the upright windscreen still feels inches from my face. Unlike the gear lever, which in contrast to the 991's high mounted version, has somehow been moved down to my left ankle. Moving off, the satisfying and entirely non-artificially enhanced engine note (surely the 964's basso profundo exhaust rumble is the best of all the 911s?) burbles away behind me while the cold oil gurgles into the dry sump tank. From the lack of response to the throttle it feels to me like all the torque has gone missing. 

But within a few minutes, all thoughts of the 991 have gone. As I head back to the old car's winter quarters I find myself enjoying the rustle of the wind from the old style roof gutters, the thump and roar from the tyres, the sight of the big plain instruments right under my nose, the simplicity of the 5 speed gearbox, and the big lunged feel from that old aircooled, two valve motor as it shoves the nuggety little coupe down the motorway slip road, the thin rimmed steering wheel wriggling in my palms. I grin to myself. This is what a 911 means to me.

Without any doubt, the new 991 is a big step for the 911 bloodline. It seems to me that Porsche have total clarity in their vision for the 911;  a prestigious high performance GT car that uses the best available technology to ensure its owner makes absolutely no compromises in order to drive the car daily.  The PDK gearbox (now selected by three quarters of all buyers), the electronic 'hand' brake, the opportunity to pack the car with luxury features, the lack of any particular skills needed to drive it, all make it something that can be bought and enjoyed by wealthy Middle Eastern, American or Chinese buyers. In the new car, they have the luxurious refinement of a Mercedes SL, a Jaguar XK or a BMW 6 series, while being able to feel they are still in a sports car. Yet I wonder how long this trajectory can continue before those sportscar roots become barely present in any meaningful sense, like the active ingredients in homeopathic medicine.  Certainly, any sentiment for the days when the 911s were bought in tiny numbers by knowledgeable and hardcore enthusiasts have long gone at Porsche, in spite of the respect the company pays to its heritage. Perhaps the GT cars are intended for their descendants, or maybe the Cayman's role is to take on the mantle of those early 911s. 

I wish Porsche well. I'll continue to enjoy my 1973 and 1991 cars, I'll probably make the trip to Le Mans next year to see the LMP1 challenger face Audi stable mates, and I'll try and get behind the wheel of a new Cayman. I even await the GT3 with interest, hoping that the rumours of PDK only transmissions are exaggerated. 

But there's not a 991 shaped hole in my heart.