In this first of an occasional series, we look back at what happened in the motoring world in a given week in the past. Here, Zack Stiling takes a look at the first week of April 1953 with the help of Autocar magazine (which is still going today) – part one relates to the general motoring industry; later in part two, Zack looks closer at the motorsport news from that week.
On this week 67 years ago, the first thing anyone browsing the car magazines would have seen was a large advertisement for the new Phase II Standard Vanguard, sporting a more conventional boot instead of the beetle-back of the Phase I. “Re-styled for tomorrow’s needs” was the strapline. Quite why tomorrow needed a three-box shape instead of a beetle-back never became totally apparent, but it was a clean, handsome shape if no less stodgy than the other family saloons of the immediate post-war years.
Another mid-market family saloon benefitting from a lot of publicity was the Austin A40 Somerset, which seemed rather more exciting than the Vanguard on account of how its mettle on been tested on a very thrilling adventure; getting from the Equator to the Arctic in 11 days, 10 hours and five minutes was its proud achievement. Starting at Entebbe in Uganda, the team of Ken Wharton, Alan Hess and Ron Jeavons had set out to drive the A40, MOX 656, up Africa, through Juba, Khartoum and Cairo, and along the Mediterranean coast through Tripoli, crossing the sea at Tunis and landing at Marseilles. From there they would reach Strasbourg and cross into Germany, heading for Hamburg before reaching Copenhagen and the Baltic Sea. Entering Sweden, they would travel through Stockholm before finishing in Jokkmokk in the Arctic Circle, successfully completing a journey of 8000 miles.
The trip set off on time at 10 a.m. from a point just north of Lake Victoria, through Uganda’s tropical regions and the deserts of Sudan and Egypt, making it to Jokkmokk at 6 p.m. on March 28. In the early stages of the trip, through the jungle, the team became lost briefly and suffered some trouble as they inadvertently descended a ravine, suffering some bodywork damage on the way. Still in Uganda, they reached Gulu, where the governor of the area awarded them a rifle and a game license in case they ran into trouble with large animals. The Austin regularly encountered lions, but fortunately the rifle never had to be used as a special siren had been fitted to the Austin to scare the creatures away. Other provisions taken included wire mesh screens over the windows to protect against mosquitoes, and serum for snake bites…
Ploughing on through the night saw the A40 reach the Sudan border on time but, once there, the government insisted that they must have a vehicle to escort them through the desert; this suffered several breakdowns and caused the Austin serious delays. After the expedition had agreed to sign a document absolving the government of any responsibility in the event of misdemeanour and agreeing to cover any costs incurred for rescue, they were allowed to proceed. For this stretch, the car was well supplied with sand tracks, Jerricans on the roof rack for water and petrol and a facia compass. Both vehicles got stuck from time to time in the sand but the Austin was able to free itself with the aid of sand tracks and spades. Unfortunately, the government’s larger car was not so well prepared and the Austin’s tailored tracks were ruined by use with the other car. Ultimately, the anti-mosquito window curtains and even the drivers’ spare clothes had to be given up to help the other car grip.
The desert crossing was supposed to take 16 hours, but after eight hours they had only covered 12½ miles. On the second day, the coil fell off the escort car, spark plugs burnt and a half-shaft broke. Still in the desert on the third day, water had run out and the drivers all had swollen tongues. Happening upon a railway, a maintenance trolley was sent to fetch water for them. Remarkably, the Austin itself did not use up any water across the whole trip.
Despite making up time in Egypt, they were too late for the scheduled Mediterranean ferry from Tunis and so had to get an air lift from Cairo to Marseilles, where they arrived 12 hours behind schedule and without the benefit of the rest that might had been enjoyed on the ferry. Dashing through Germany, their ferry crossing was frantically rearranged and they succeeded in getting a lift across the Baltic. Equipped with Arctic clothing, self-heating soup and refreshment and two interior heaters for the trip to Jokkmokk, this last leg was surprisingly uneventful, especially considering the weather in March. On completion, the Austin had covered 7,673 miles at an average of 28 m.p.h., having required two oil changes and encountered no mechanical difficulties. On returning to London, the car was reported to be using some oil, suspected to be due to some desert dust having permeated through the air filter, but otherwise ran very well and retained much of its special equipment such as its Lucas head lamps, crossed shovels and cans on the roof rack.
It is always interesting to look through dealer advertisements and see what was once available in your area. I notice that not far from me was Cliftons Service Station, occupying large premises at 59, Sidcup Road, Lee, London S.E.12. This Austin agent must have had a very impressive stock to warrant being billed as ‘the Longbridge of the South’. Happily, the building remains, although it is now an Esso station and Tesco Express.
Despite its boastful advertising, not all was well at Longbridge. The factory was beset by strikes at a time when its sales were suffering anyway. The Autocar deplored the labour unrest, maintaining that ‘times of trouble are those in which management and men should pull together’ and fearing what the outcome should be for the motor industry pending a possible improvement in relations with the Soviet Union that might reduce its involvement with rearmament.
What else was there to choose from? The now almost-extinct Singer SM1500 was being promoted in a very reserved manner. It’s easy to read its strapline of ‘A thoroughly good car’ in the cut-glass voice of Raymond Baxter. On the sporting front, we had the two-litre Morgan Plus Four, still very much a hangover from the pre-war years which, history has taught us, was no bad thing at all for the brand. The MG 1¼-Litre saloons were being sold on their rallying success, having achieved first, second and third place finishes in Class I (touring cars up to 1300 c.c.) in the R.A.C. International Rally. Likewise, the Jowett Javelin, which had placed first and third in the class for 1½-litre touring cars. However, if you simply wanted to add a dash of glamour to your mundane saloon, you could do so by investing in a set of Ace Rimbellisher chrome wheel trims.
The less well-off motorist might pay a visit to Measham to choose from its stock of second-hand cars – the previous model of Hillman Minx, perhaps, would be ideal for the austere family motorist.
From the manufacturers, there was exciting news from Jaguar, who had been speed-testing its cars on the Jabbeke road in Belgium on Wednesday, April 1. The XK120 exceeded 140 m.p.h. and the XK120C did best with an average of 148.435 m.p.h. over the flying kilometre, but most impressive was that the lumbering Mark VII saloon managed to average 121.704 m.p.h. over the flying kilometre. Less exciting but equally significant was the report from Ford that its Dagenham plant had built 20,082 cars during March, an all-time record that equated to almost 100 per day. Regardless, Ford declared that it was still struggling to meet demand.
On the street, the prospect of parking meters was a very new threat and one which the motoring press was treating with scepticism. They had already been adopted in America, where they were universally hated.
Meanwhile, in the States, Chrysler reduced the price of each model by around £35. It denied the rumours, but the feeling was that Chrysler had built rather more cars than it was able to sell. It had recently exhibited at the Chicago motor exhibition the Plymouth XX-500, a styling research model which looked remarkably European. Over at Hudson, the company was enjoying great success in stock-car racing and the sales success that naturally followed. The Hudson Hornet won 47 out of 60 events in the 1952 stock-car calendar, which the company president, A E Barit, attributed to its low centre of gravity.
Unsurprisingly, American makers were always looking to make their cars seem newer and more exciting than everyone else’s. Cadillac increased the power output of its V8 to 210 b.h.p. at 4,150 r.p.m., while Chevrolet had just introduced its now-famous Bel Air model. Oldsmobiles received a major facelift for 1953. Nash not only increased the power available in its Ambassador and Statesman models, it also introduced power steering for the first time with the Ambassador. Hudson introduced a new top-of-the-range model by the name of Super Wasp and Willys began production of four-door bodies. Ever eccentric, Kaiser brought its Dragon model, with unusual styling and gold-plated trim, while the brilliant Raymond Loewy had completely restyled Studebakers along quite European lines.
One of the most unusual American cars was receiving some attention from the motoring press. The King Midget went very much against the grain of bulky cars with vast chrome embellishments. Available ready-made or as a $500 kit, the total weight of this tiny car was only 500lb.Made by the Midget Motor Co of Athens, Ohio, it had actually débuted in 1946 but was largely ignored by its home market and elsewhere. Powered by a Wisconsin single-cylinder industrial engine which Midget furnished with a petrol tank, clutch and magneto-type generator, a single chain drive from the engine to the right rear wheel did without the need for gears. To reverse, simply get out and push. As an option, the buyer could specify an automatic two-speed belt-drive transmission. Independent suspension was used all round. With a steel body and Perspex windscreen, the car was only good for 45 m.p.h. but could return 72 m.p.g.
The Autocar’s editorial questioned the philosophy of making cars too easy to drive, a topic which invites interesting comparisons between the cars of yesterday and today. Naturally, it was understood that to be a commercial success, a car manufacturer will want to sell as many units as possible and it will do that if people feel at ease behind the wheel; conversely, if cars become too straightforward they will end up in the hands of people who, while perhaps just about able to operate the car, are not sufficiently cerebrally equipped to operate it in a safe manner on public roads. From this, it drew the conclusion that an excess of gauges and instruments should never be any more than a luxury for those who could afford high end cars, since any intelligent driver would not rely on anything besides oil, temperature and battery gauges to inform him of approaching difficulties. Also, in light of the material shortages that remained from the war, it expressed concern that this could be a waste of materials that might be better employed.
Now, haven’t things changed! The three important gauges for oil, temperature and battery have been universally banished from every facia, but they have been replaced by a barrage of switches and dials controlling everything from air conditioning, windows and the position of seats to radios, portable technology and Bluetooth (whatever that is). I don’t know what the situation was like in 1953, but it’s not unusual today to come across drivers who are distracted, lazy or just totally brain-dead…
