The Fire Drake Files No.2 - Darjeeling & Himalaya Class B tank engine

I was entranced by film footage of the Darjeeling and Himalaya Railways many years ago and a preserved locomotive from the DHR visited the Launceston Steam Railway over the summer. It didn't come all the way from India for it now lives a life of restful ease in the UK.

What captivated me from then start was an aerial view that must have been filmed by a helicopter of a small but big-hearted little train struggling up the sort of scenery a fantasy writer would like to have imagined. It was obviously working hard but seemed to have lost its way slightly for it went round and round in circles while climbing all the time. It looped around conical hills with an abyss in every direction and sometimes gave up climbing and went backwards - except it didn't go down the hill but lost its way again and, in a cruel trick of fate for a train that must have wanted to freewheel downhill so much, it went up the hill backwards (just like the David Bowie song).

How could a train get so confused?

The Darjeeling train even went down what appeared to be a rabbit hole in its search for the summit, perhaps slyly reasoning that going into the ground would offer some downward relief but - no - it just came out at the other end of the burrow a bit higher up again.

And this was what made me like the Darjeeling & Himalaya Railway so much. As the little train struggled out of its hole, the passengers - all dressed in brilliant white - sportingly leapt off the carriages and ran up the side of the embankment next to the tunnel mouth. Relieved of some of its burden, the little tank engine put on a spurt of speed and rattled round another loop to line itself up with another tunnel some distance above the last one. As it came out of the curve and dug its wheels in to reach the tunnel as fast as it could, the passengers scrambling up the bank must have been regretting their decision to jump off but even from a distance they seemed to be grinning. As the fastest climbers reached the higher track, the engine dived into the tunnel before them. As the tunnel swallowed the train the passengers hurled themselves at the train and somehow they all got back on, even if their friend shad to pull them aboard bodily.

It looked like the happiest railway service in the world. Although built by the British as a strategic objective in an attempt to add Tibet to their empire, the Indians found ways of getting the most fun out of it.

And as the last passengers clapped each other on the back and laughed again before being plunged into darkness once more, I wanted to join them. For how many people have raced a train on foot and won?

So when a Darjeeling & Himalaya Class B tank engine came to Cornwall I had to go and see it. I was too late to ride behind but I didn’t mind because I’d come to just see it.

It’s an odd looking machine with front and rear overhangs almost as long as its wheelbase but I really like it. There’s an enormous coal bunker in front of the cab but a tiny saddle tank between chimney and dome. It doesn’t look big enough for an engine this size and it isn’t – it’s supplemented by a well tank under the footplate and between the frames ahead of the front axle. The saddle tank probably doesn’t qualify as a saddle tank On the DHR, they called them collar tanks. Some engines has extensions to the well tanks ahead of the cylinders to increase water capacity a little further. Some people reckon the added capacity was negligible and that their real purpose was to stop the engine toppling over if it ever de-railed, an important point considering the vertical tendencies of the terrain. To my mind these wing plates are little pannier tanks and, when you consider that the engines ran with tenders as well, the attempt to classify this type of tank engine descends into anarchy.

The important thing about these engines, though, is that they worked incredibly well at their allotted task from 1879 onwards. This particular engine, DHR No. 19, was built in 1889 by Sharp Stewart with 11” by 14” cylinders and worked on the DHR until 1960 when it went to the USA. It was bought by Adrian Shooter in 2002 for use on his Beeches Light Railway at Steeple Aston in Oxfordshire and it often visits other narrow gauge railways.

I understand that a significant amount of work had to be undertaken on the track on the LSR to take this engine. Although it weighs 13 tons, the baby Hunslets that live at Launceston weigh only 6 tons and they make the engine of the toy train from Darjeeling look massive.

In Switzerland they relied on a rack of teeth between the rails for adhesion but the DHR tanks habitually manage to climb 1 in 3 gradients without slipping, so somebody knew what they were doing when they laid out these little engines on the drawing board. Not only were they well designed and well made, they were well maintained, for anything less would not have made such strenuous operation possible.

On thing I didn’t appreciate was that they had a crew of 6. So where did they all go? There was an engine driver and a fireman plus two coal men, one standing on the right hand running plate and the other in the coal box itself. The other two crew were the sandmen. Gravity or steam sanding was found to be never as good as an experienced human hand so two men sat on each end of the front buffer beam feeding sand from a box between them. That’s how the British managed without a rack system.

I think it’s significant that I’d already bought secondhand the Loco Profile covering the Darjeeling Tanks several years before, in the excellent bookshop at the Launceston Steam Railway. This was the only profile available at the time that interested me. My principle enthusiasms have always been cars followed by motorbikes but there are exceptional steam engines that interest me from time to time and the Darjeeling and Himalaya Railway B Class is definitely one of them.

This is the turbo generator set for the big headlamp – it looks like it would do well on my Hillman Imp!

Vintage Thing No.49 - the VW-Imp trials special

A number of times over the last couple of trialling seasons have seen me turning up to spectate at a section somewhere only to be accosted by an acquaintance with words to the effect of, "You should have been here earlier, Bob! There was hopped-up, mental Imp that..." And they would go on to describe how it became airborne on the first bump and didn't land until the pilot throttled back just beyond the section ends boards. Or that it had proceeded up the hill on the rear pair of wheels only with the headlamps pointing to the sky.

A quick scam through the programme would prove that there was indeed a big engined Imp in the trial.

However, this very special Imp proved surprisingly elusive. It wasn't until we were signing off at the end of the Land's End Trial this year that I saw this legendary vehicle to a first-time. The crew were also signing of so didn't have much time to talk to them but the driver, Tristan White, gave me the keys to the car and said, "Take as many pictures as you like, do whatever you feel with it."

Through the good auspices of the Camel Vale Car Club, I managed to track Tris down again and last week he came along to our regular gathering of Hillman Imp enthusiasts in Bodmin, which, funnily enough, is Tris’ home town.

The car in question is probably the ultimate development of the VW-Imp trials special. There have been quite a few of these constructed over the years and they seek to combine the Imps tidy dimensions with the legendary mud plugging ability of Ferdinand Porsche’s finest. In their most basic form, they are simply Volkswagen drivetrains shoehorned into the wide but low engine bay of the Hillman Imp, which originally was designed to take a boxer engine.

Back in the early 90s, I once marshalled on a section with Mike Furse, the long-standing membership secretary of the Motor Cycling Club, which is responsible for organising all the long-distance classic trials. He told me that he had a VW-Imp but this was a far more sophisticated machine in that it had complete VW running gear from front to back and was more of a Hillman Imp shell mounted on a VW floorpan. If my memory serves me right, this machine was still extant at the time although Mike said it was very rusty. I'd be particularly intrigued to know if this VW-Imp still survives.

Slightly before this date, during the my first Land's End Trial as a competitor, (or was it the first event in the llama?) I noticed a red Hillman Imp with very large wheels in the car park at a control point. Listed in the programme as a 2-litre, it looked like the proverbial mountain goat on steroids. At one point we watched it storm up Cutliffe Lane. It had been built by Martin Harry and was typically driven by his wife Julia. Somebody later told me that it had the back half of a Beetle under its wings but used Ford Pinto power. It was certainly very successful but then disappeared for awhile and in fact I haven't seen it since.

Tristan White's car continues this tradition but instead of Pinto power unit it uses one from a VW Golf. It was built by Terry Richards of Ponsanooth (my voice activation software interprets Ponsanooth as porn sunroof) but the project was funded by Rob Williams who worked for the local Kessells and Riders car dealerships. Tris bought it from Trevor Bailey in Keinton Mandeville five years ago this September and at that stage it had an 1800 Mk1 Golf GTi engine.

This engine later went up in smoke -- quite literally. It began to leak oil prodigiously during a trial until the exhaust got so hot that the escaped oil reached its flashpoint and burst into flames. This couldn't have happened at a worse spot because Tris had just climbed a very slippery grass section and there were very few people and no other cars nearby.

He leapt out and began to unscrew the folding spare wheel carrier over the engine compartment but, by now, the flames had really taken hold and if it hadn't been for the layers of clothing that he wore then he wouldn't go quite badly burnt. Luckily, another trials driver with a fire extinguisher in his car saw what was going on and managed to clear the grassy section in a desperate rescue bid. The fire extinguisher was just big enough to put out the flames and now Tris never goes anywhere without two.

Tris then to have the opportunity to fit a Mk3 8 valve Golf 2-line engine and this now runs on twin 40s holding onto a special inlet manifold with very long induction tracts, the longest they could fit into the available space in fact. The idea of this is to maximise the available torque.

The exhaust system is still quite involved. The curves down from the engine from under the inlet manifold and then runs back to the rear of the sump where it crosses the back of the car before running boards again and then doubling back into a rearwards facing silencer and exits through a cutaway engine cover. This is the original engine power that just about survived the earlier fire and is now more air vent than steel. Engine cooling it's taken care of by a front mounted radiator but it's still important to get hot air out of the engine compartment.

Tris reckons this engine puts out a modest 115 bhp but in a car the size of the Hillman Imp this represents a very favourable power to weight ratio. Torque is anybody's guess that is conservatively rated at "adequate."

The VW hubs have been modified to accept Ford Sierra wheels while at the front the original Hillman Imp hubs carry Skoda Estelle wheels. Again, the hubs have been adapted rather than the wheels.

I assumed that Tris had fitted front disc brakes but he is actually still running on drums. He admitted that the brakes could be better and at some stage he may well improve them but he said that his VW-Imp was not a car to drive quickly on the road. It was built for tralling and it didn't sound like he enjoyed driving it fast on tarmac. "The centre of gravity is so high to get the necessary ground clearance that it really doesn't handle well. But when it's in the mud, it just keeps on finding grip."

The excellent ground clearance gives Tris' car it's purposeful stance, which, to my mind, suggests an all-terrain Hot Rod. It's just as well then that its performance exceeds its looks.

Tris is a very an accomplished trials driver and is currently doing very well in the Wheelspin Trophy. Having been in the lead for part of the year, he is typically lying either second or third. He knows his car quite well now and there is hardly a weekend during the winter when he is not using it competitively. He also has a Troll, a bespoke trials special that resembles a Lotus 7 from a distance, but he finds driving the VW-Imp less tiring. As soon as he's finished an event, he steam cleans his Imp and sprays it with duck oil, which explains how he has kept it in such good condition over the years, despite such a packed competition history. Long may it continue.

Vintage Thing No.39 - the Gillie

Continuing the occasional theme of Hillman Imp off-road thingies, this device is probably the ultimate. The Gillie was designed around 1970 by the Rootes group and endowed with hub reduction gearing and a shorter wheelbase. This combination gave it exceptional off road performance but made it a bit slow on the road. It also hadn't been consciously styled by the Rootes Group stylists so had a kind of honest-to-goodness lack or pretension. This photo is from a newspaper article supplied by Gary Henderson via Franka's excellent site. You can read more about the genesis of the Gillie here.

The Gillie never went into production and remained unique. After a brief period on Lord Rootes' country estate, the one-and-only Gillie fell into obscurity. There were tantalising glimpses of it by Imp aficionados from time to time but it led a secret existence unrecognised for many years until recently, when it turned up - like so many things - on Ebay. And by now you'd never believe that it was the same vehicle.

It's been extensively "pimped" and while it would look out of place on Lord Rootes' estate, and would probably frighten the horse more than my Llama ever did, for a sensational seventies party this thing has to be the ultimate. Petrol-finish round glasses, a head band, long hair, droopy moustache and loon pants with flares to match those rear wheels - and you'd still be under dressed.

But before all that (necessary) frivolity there's quite a lot of work to be done. There's a gaping void at the front where an automatic Metro engine and gearbox once lived and at the back is another hole where an Imp engine would've been and only partially filled by a fuel tank.

There can't be many cars that have been re-engined at either end.

The Gillie has found a new owner in the form of Ricky Walden of Daventry who was pleasantly surprised to find what an incredible survivor and piece of history he'd acquired.

"I wouldn't know half of what I know now if it wasn't for James Henderson and Tim Morgan (Imp Club enthusiasts par excellence). I'm going to keep the body the way it is because trying to re-create what it used to look like would be a long and trying process. I'm slowly restoring it and swapping the engine over to the back. The bloke who had it before thought it'd be a good idea to stick a Land Rover fuel tank in the back (with an Imp fuel sender unit bolted to the top of it!)."

To provide an accurate read out no doubt.

"I'm going to spray it as close to it's original color as I can get.

"It's still got part of a Mini sub-frame in the front. The current "engine bay" had to be made wider to accommodate the Metro engine. It looks like quite an unskilled job using bit of old Imp floorpan.

“The hub reduction gearbox was thrown out with the arc. It was built to cut the top speed of the car down but to enable it to climb quite steep hills. I don't think the gearbox exists anymore. I think it was a one off.

“From what I can gather about 18" has been cut out of the body to reduce the wheelbase. Pretty much after the front seats, there’s the bulge in the floorpan /chassis to accomodate the engine. It’d be interesting to park an Imp next to it to get an idea exactly how much the factory removed and to compare notes.”

In the photo of the Gillie in its original state, some of its panels look familiar to those of us who have chopped them up or undertaken extreme welding experiments on them. But they're all covered up again now after a succession of owners have had a go at realising a dream of theirs using the Gillie as a basis.

I just think Ricky's vision for the Gillie is the clearest of all. It certainly looks wild, actually, although I can't say I really like it but it'll be a BRILLIANT laugh to drive!

It's still a shame that it's been cut around so much but it's morphed into something even weirder than the original rather worthy concept of the Gillie and what Ricky’s got now is still – like an amp that goes up to eleven – even more unique.

Make that an Imp that goes up to eleven.

I remember a Ford Cortina Mk1 when I lived in Kent in the 90's that must have been customised in the 70's. It had all the old custom mods like murals and sun strips. I hope it still survives because it was a perfect period piece. Nobody does that to Mk1 Cortinas these days.

“I found the wide Dunlop racing wheels at the back quite appealing. (They're about 14" wide.) It looks a bit like a Hummer at the front I like to think. The purple colour didn't really do it for me. I liked the idea that this would really be something I can get my hands dirty with. Now I'm Imp-obsessed and would quite happily fill my drive with them!”

Yeah, Imps get you that way.

Good luck with the re-Imping of the car, Ricky. I reckon once it’s done you’ll get a great reaction when you’re behind the wheel.

Vintage Thing No.22.4 - yet another other Siva Llama

I've just been talking to the owner of yet another Siva Llama. Chris Griffin has owned his car from new. It's his only car and the mileage is just coming up to 27,000 miles. He works on a farm and only has to travel about half a mile to work, which he usually cycles. He's regularly covered the chassis in old engine oil and the only things that have rusted so far are the steel brake pipes outboard of the flexible hoses at the rear. Apart from two or three water pump seals and the occasional throttle cable, Chris's car is just as it left the Aylesbury factory.

I asked him what attracted him to the Llama in the first place and he said that he was looking for something reliable, fun, adaptable, rustproof and that looked a bit different. He first came across the Siva Llama when it was advertised in one of the farming magazines, probably Farmer's Weekly. He visited the Siva factory in Aylesbury with his father in the summer of 1974 and saw a number of cars under construction, including some of the more exotic VW-based Sivas. These would probably have been Siva Salukis. He reckons as many as 8 people worked there at the time.

Chris and his dad were shown all round the factory and Chris's father expressed concern about the front mounted fuel tank in an accident. "Was there a fire risk with the glass fibre bodywork?" he wondered. Their guide said that there was no fire risk and proceeded to demonstrate this by playing an oxyacetylene welding torch on a scrap body moulding. Despite the full force of the flame, all the glass fibre did was blister and it certainly didn't burst into flame.

Reassured on this point, they also asked about the battery position. This is still a constant source of amusement to all Siva owners because to get the battery out you have to jack the car up and take off the near side rear wheel, which then allows you to take off a further panel within the rear wheel arch before you can get at the battery. The access panel on the inside of the body allows you to reach its terminals but to actually remove it you have to "get down and get under". The response from their guide was that in export markets, such as Spain or Portugal, local drivers liked to fiddle with their batteries and this design had been adopted deliberately to stop them from doing this.

Although they didn't really believe this, Chris still liked the Siva Llama. The lack of foot space around the pedals was the only other awkward thing about the car but it didn't stop him ordering one. There were two options - either build the car yourself or take delivery through an agent of a finished car and Chris chose the latter route for simplicity's sake.

This was of particular interest to me because all the information on Llamas that I had seen suggested that they had only ever been available as a kit. When I entered mine in the classic trials run by the Motor Cycling Club, I was running in Class 7 with the big engined Beetles. I had hoped to be included in Class 4, which was for rear-engined cars up to 1300cc. When I queried this, the scrutineers said that they had made a concession to me by including me in Class 7, for, if the rules were applied as intended, my Llama would have been included with the red spot Class 8 specials, which included rear-engined kit cars like beach buggies.

Although it is unlikely that I will ever use my Llama again in classic trials, Chris said he would get something in writing to me about his car being fully built by the factory. He might even be able to get something from the agent that supplied his car from new. This was Station Garage, Rudgwick, West Sussex, run by Tony Thorpe, and Chris still gets his car MOTed by the same firm although the garage has long since moved out of Rudgwick. Because he was buying the car fully assembled, he had to use an agent as an intermediary but this was no problem, as the local village garage could easily oblige. This was quite a common practice in rural areas. I can remember the faded sign writing on garage walls in my father's home village of Plaistow in West Sussex saying that any make of car could be supplied new.

There was a small delay to delivery and Chris finally took delivery in November 1974. True to his word, Chris sent me a copy of the original invoice. Including 12 months car tax at ₤25 (₤25!), ₤3 for numberplates and ₤96 for Car Tax and ₤97 for VAT, Chris’ car cost him ₤1,339.

Now, in one of those spooky coincidences that feature in real life, on the way back from looking at my Llama when I bought it, I stopped off in Okehampton and bought a copy of World Cars for 1976 that listed the Llama for sale. Its price ex-works was then listed as ₤1,246. For Chris, this was ₤1,176 before a 5% discount. In 1976, the cost of a Hillman Imp was ₤1,587. An 850 Mini was ₤1,299 and a Skoda 110 saloon was ₤1,100.

This sort of cost made me suspect that Llamas were available fully built but, until now, I couldn't prove anything.

12 months car tax at ₤25, though!

Chris used his car mostly on the farm but in his younger days went much further afield, such as the Midlands, Wales and the New Forest. Some years, he barely did 300 miles and to provide an unbroken record of his mileage through old MOT certificates, he's returned to go the same garage that acted as agent when he bought the car. It only ever failed once in the rear brake pipes developed rust.

Back in the summer, Chris's car was used as wedding transport for his nephew's wedding. His Llama is in remarkably original condition and has lived up to his expectations for all the years since he bought it. Ground clearance can prove limited in some circumstances and, in sticky situations, the Llama is better going forward than backwards. The front end is so light that Chris and his brother used to be able to lift it up and turn the car around through 180° if ever they got bogged down. He found the rear wheels rub on the rear inner wheel arches on full bump and fitted some wheel spacers to get around this. These gave the added benefit of widening the rear track, which just like an Imp is slightly narrower than the front, with the result that it handles even better in boggy conditions.

I was intrigued by the colour because most surviving Llamas seem to be in this bright yellow. Chris said that it has lost some of its brilliance over the years but it still looks good to me. This is the original gel-coat finish. Mine has been re-sprayed and in worn areas a sand-coloured gel-coat is visible.

I asked him what its best feature was, and he said reliability. I think this is a testament to him looking after his car so well. And it's worst feature? "It doesn't like running when cold. Juggling the choke is a real art. Too much and it runs hesitantly but too little and it just dies."

I think an unbroken record of ownership over 34 years indicates a good deal of customer satisfaction for Chris from the Siva motor company.

On the day of the wedding it poured. The photo call with the happy couple and the Llama was completed the following day but despite the weather the bride arrived on time, tucked away under the Llama's hardtops. Chris removed the zip up door on one side so well-wishers could see her but it wasn't long before the bridal possession attracted the attention of the local police. A squad car pulled up alongside with an "'Ello, 'ello, 'ello? What's going on 'ere then?" expression on the crew's features but when they saw the wedding dress they just grinned and wished everyone well.

This car takes a total of known survivors up to 6, two of which are -- amazingly -- still with their original owners. And there may be even more yet to come to light through the power of the Internet!

A Hillman Imp ghost story for Christmas

It was a dark and stormy night at The Borough Arms on the road between Wadebridge and Bodmin. There were precious few travellers on the roads that evening and we had the usually popular hostelry pretty much to ourselves. There was just me and my friends and fellow members of the Imp Club, John and Sarah Doughty. Outside, the rain beat at the windows, the wind moaned in the chimney and the pub sign rattled on its chains but inside it was warm and welcoming. The fires were lit and after our meal we pulled up the armchairs in a semi-circle and gathered round the hearth.

And, as might only be expected on a night such as this, talk soon turned to the subject of the supernatural.

I happened to remark that I had never heard of a car being haunted. There have been ghost trains and phantom trucks and cars, I said, and I had even heard of a headless cyclist. But while accounts of ghostly cars have often been told, I had never heard of a real car being haunted as a house or a ship might be.

“The well known case of the hairy hands on the Two Bridges to Princetown road over Dartmoor doesn’t count,” I went on, warming to my theme. “That phenomenon affected the steering wheels of many cars and on at least one occasion the handlebars of a motorbike. It was not the cars or the bikes that were haunted but that particular bend in the road.”

At this, I paused. John was looking at Sarah and Sarah was looking at John and they were smiling knowingly at each other.

And this is the story they imparted to me that night.

About a dozen years before, John had been contacted by a widow living in Saltash. Her husband had died some years before and his car, a 1972 turquoise Hillman Imp, remained in the garage. Her husband had loved that car and she wanted to make sure it still worked. John, being the generous and helpful soul that he is, went along to get it going after a few years of standing idle. He soon had it running and drove it up and down the drive to make sure the clutch wouldn’t seize again before she passed the car on.

She was very grateful and became a good friend of the Doughtys. Eventually she decided to sell the car and John checked it over to make sure everything was in order.

A few weeks had passed when she rang the Doughtys up. She was very sorry, she said, but had he done anything to the locks? Nobody could get in it. John went over to investigate. They opened the darkened garage, he squeezed in beside the car, unlocked it and sat in it.

“The lock’s probably worn,” he told her. “The ignition lock on Sarah’s car is so worn the keys sometimes fall out as she’s going along.”

That should have been an end to it but John had a strange presentiment that there was more to this than at first appeared and was not surprised when she rang again with the same problem. To cut a long story short it became apparent that the only person who could get in the car and start it was John.

The owner’s widow wanted the Hillman Imp to go to a good home but advertising it seemed pointless when anyone who came to view it couldn’t even get behind the wheel so she offered it to John and Sarah. They didn’t really want another Imp but it was such a nice one and she was such nice old lady they at last agreed to buy it off her. John took it home and parked it outside his workshop to wait its turn while he finished off some other projects.

It was several months later that John was outside his workshop, working on a car, when he saw a stranger approaching from the lane. He was an elderly man, smartly dressed in a raincoat and wearing a hat (check description). He didn’t pay John any attention but looked around him with approval at John’s Imps outside the workshop. Some were show standard and others little more than spares cars but among them was the Hillman Imp that they’d bought from the widow lady some time before.

John could just as easily have carried on working. He’s always got a lot to do. But – again – something told him that all was not as it seemed. At last, his visitor drew level with him and, before his very eyes, faded into nothing. The Doughtys had kept in touch with the widow and went to see her after this experience.

“Do you mind if I ask you what your husband looked like?” John asked her over a cup of tea.

She hesitated at this somewhat strange question but smiled and replied, “No.”

“Did he wear a raincoat and a hat?”

“Perhaps it’s best I show you his photograph,” was her reply.

Sure enough, the man who had come back to look at his Imp was indeed her husband.

His wife was not in the least bit surprised. “He always loved that car, you see,” she told them.

She’s dead now but the Doughtys still have her husband’s old car in their little fleet. These days, it’s a well kept runabout and John has treated me to a ride in it more than once. But there have been no more sightings of the car’s former owner and never any sense of there being three passengers when by rights there should only be two.

We can only assume that the widow’s late husband, and the car’s former owner, has seen enough to reassure himself that his old pride and joy is in safe hands.

In any case, this remains the only instance that I know of where a car has been haunted – unless, of course, anyone out there knows any different……

Vintage Thing 22.1 - another Siva Llama

It seems that just by writing about something I really stir things up. If you follow my Anarchadia book blog you'll know that real life is starting to follow the fictional world of The Horsepower Whisperer and The Wormton Lamb and probably rejoiced to hear that - from now on - all my books will feature brilliantly sunny weather. Well, now I'm stirring things up with Vintage Things. I blog about them and more come out of the wood work.

This Siva Llama belongs to a doctor who has owned the car from new. He’s commissioned Tony Suckling in Kent to get the car going again and, through the wonders of the interweb, Tony found me to ask a few questions about Siva Llamas. It’s a 1975 car so a few months younger than mine and it looks like it’s the same colour. Mine’s been resprayed but I’ve seen a couple of others in this bright yellow.

It’s been on blocks for the last 30 years and has only done about 6,000 miles. So far the wheels have been shot blasted and powder-coated, new tyres and drive couplings fitted, the brakes have been overhauled and, after a certain amount of aggravation, the electrics have been sorted out. Tony has made new bumpers and outriggers and mended various small items such as the fuel sender unit, windscreen wiper wheel boxes, ignition switch and handbrake. He’s also fitted new seat belts, finding Securon a good source for the non-inertia variety.

Its first road test provoked only a slight leak from the water pump and the clutch was free despite all those years of storage.

Tony initially asked me if the Llama was worth doing up so I obviously said yes. This brings the total of known survivors to 4.

Besides this latest discovery, there’s my own 1974 van version, the blue one that used to belong to Colin Valentine and the camouflage one that used to be owned by Richard Murtha but has now gone abroad.

Tim Morgan was once given a Llama, many years ago, sight unseen, that was in Cornwall somewhere, possibly Launceston but he didn’t have time to pick it up. There was also the one I spotted in a scrapyard at St Day in Cornwall about 14 years ago that got baled up before I new how scarce they were becoming.

According to Chris Rees in his book Classic Kit Cars, Siva made around 50 Llamas. No owner’s club exists but an informal network has grown up over the years as enthusiasts and fellow owners let each other know whenever anything new crops up. Leading light in all things Siva is William Jansen in Holland who has a Siva Moon Buggy - like a beach buggy but Mini powered. Between us we know people with Ford Pop-powered Siva Edwardians, VW based Siva Salukis and crazy Raceabouts and even the amazing V8 Siva S530 that was nearly made by Aston Martin.

Popular Siva lore has it that the Llama killed the company but I recently made contact with Neville Trickett who exonerated the little car of all blame. The fault lay with Siva’s financiers. As the Imp was 10 years old when design work began, Neville obtained assurances from Chrysler UK that Imp production would continue. However, Chrysler abruptly announced that Imp production was to end and Siva’s financial backers pulled out.

I asked Neville if the Llama was ever resurrected abroad under another name. He said overseas Llama production had been planned but it never came to fruition. I explained that Patrick Neckles in Grenada had a car that looked like a Moke from the front but a Llama from behind. This car is a Hustler built by Arawak Motors but Neville had never heard of these names although he added that he wouldn’t be at all surprised if there was a link.

This sort of thing happens a lot with kit cars. Neville’s design for the Siva Parisienne, a pastiche of a veteran Renault based on a 2CV chassis, popped up wherever it was sunny after going out of production in the UK. And another of Neville’s designs, the VW based Siva Saluki, morphed into the Charger and then the Eurocco - without him having to lift a finger.

It's interesting that this car is owned by a doctor as the most famous Siva of all time was Bessie, which belonged the most famous doctor of all time – Doctor Who. “The Doctor” (Tony's mate) has this to say about his Siva.

“You may wonder why I purchased a Llama car. I attended the 1975 Motor Show at Earl’s Court wishing to buy a four seater convertible and - believe it or not - there were only three available, the Llama, a Morgan that had a ten year waiting list and a Bentley Continental, which was somewhat out of my price range so I attended the garage in North London where they were selling them. I was a young GP at the time with a wife and young daughter so I needed four seats. The Llama was our only car for two years, but was not very practical with the side screens up. There was nowhere to lock my medical bag or other things and with the roof down the maximum speed was only 55mph with no acceleration at all.

“I put in more comfortable seats for the driver and front passenger as the original seats were unsafe and uncomfortable, especially on a long journey.

“Once I had bought another car I stored the Llama in a lean-to at my mother’s house where it remained quietly rotting away. A friend of mine who had just retired was looking for a project, hence the rejuvenation of this unusual car.

“Tony is one of those chaps who can turn his hand to anything and is also a very good snooker player. I personally cannot even bang a nail in straight.

“One of the little car’s claim to fame, apart from being owned by me, was that on two occasions attended Broadstair's carnivals carrying carnival queen and her companions.

As there are so few Llamas in the world I intend to keep it unless there is a multimillionaire whose greatest desire is to add this car to his/her collection. Then for a suitable fee I would be persuaded to part with it.”

I must say that I have never considered my Llama as an alternative to a Bentley Continental or a Morgan but I can relate to the restriction on top speed. My car had a 998cc engine but it wore a 1¼ inch SU carb to enhance low speed torque for trailing. It wouldn't rev like an Imp engine should and only managed 65mph at best. I put this down to the lack breathing ability but it could be that it was more a question of aerodynamics. I never went anywhere with the hardtops so can't say if the top speed improved with them on. I do know that there was terrific turbulence in the passenger compartment at speed and once had twenty quid sucked out of my shirt pocket during a jaunt over Dartmoor.

I’ve asked Tony Suckling if he can identify what headlamps “The Doctor's” car has got. When arch-enthusiast Colin Valentine had his blue Llama, the origins of its headlamps were a big mystery. His car had unidentified lamps that fitted. My headlamps are believed to have originated from a Mk1 Escort but they just don’t fit. Colin sent me some codes and serial numbers written in the lenses but we never found out what they were from. They had proper adjusters and we suspected a Continental or Scandinavian origin. The headlamps on my car are so deep the bulb fouls the wheel arch panel behind it. Whoever put my car together solved this problem by the simple expedient of fixing them to the outside of the bodywork, thereby ensuring that the headlamp cover panels wouldn’t fit properly and that the Llama’s sleek styling was compromised - some would say even further.

I’m sorry to say that this sort of lash up typified my car. My door hinges pins are obviously old nails welded to the windscreen frame. Whoever put the side windows in the van sides cut the apertures too big on one side but then riveted a strip back in the make the hole smaller. The front seats hinged on bent pieces of metal when I got my car with the inevitable result that the material hardened and fractured. At this point, the seats became infinitely adjustable and the occupants became unhinged in both senses of the word. I made up some better seat brackets and hinges to restore peace of mind but Timo Rumary still took the mickey out of them. Apparently he was a welder fabricator in a previous incarnation.

It sounds like “The Doctor's” was better built than mine and will probably be MOTed by the time you read this.

As for the great Llama headlamp mystery, answers on a postcard please.

Beautiful Boconnoc

The good weather that we had for the Boconnoc Steam Fair in July is now nothing but a distant memory. Everyone I spoke to said what a great event it was. In previous years, some have said that the atmosphere was a bit "clicky" and that previously the organisers were only interested in the steam engines but this year there was a good overall balance and no complaints about unfriendliness. There was a fine range of exhibits, too, although decent autojumbles seem to be things of the past.

Everybody seemed to be there. If you hadn't caught up with old friends for a while, here they were, polishing their cars or riding on their tractors.

The surroundings in the great park are magnificent with the big trees and rolling landscape down to the house and the lake.

Some of my neighbours from up the line called Boconnoc Bock O'Nock when they moved down here and those of us who should know better have started saying it, too. It should be said like B'con'c with the accent on the second syllable.

There even two examples of Hillman Imp at the show. I'm Cornish Centre Area Organiser for the Imp Club, but I've found that not many club members like to get involved with the club locally. It was nice therefore to see this very nice Husky as well as the Sunbeam Stilleto of local stalwarts John and Sarah Doughty. It belongs to Kevin Richards (I think that was his name) of Saltash and is a car that belonged to a very active lady club member for a while. It's in very good condition despite one or two paint bubbles and is a rare variant of the Imp. I was very pleased to see it again in such sympathetic hands.

The only problem with Boconnoc now seems to be its popularity. It took me half an hour to get into the car park. Leaving the site was more difficult since an ambulance had been called for someone. Cars waiting in the queues suffered fuel vaporisation in the heat as their engines idled. Some had to park up and wait to cool down. People complained at the time but if they knew what weather was around the corner they wouldn't have said a word and just enjoyed the rays.

Vintage Thing No.22 - Siva Llama

Unlike previous Vintage Things, I've actually got one of these. I've had my Siva Llama for a few years now and it's currently awaiting removal of the body to allow the chassis to be shot blasted. It's a van variant - would you believe - and I've got all the hardtops and doors. It's just that it wasn't very well put together when it was built and somebody cut windows into the van sides. This wouldn't have been a problem if they'd got the measurements right. On one side they cut the hole too big and riveted in a strip to fill a gap of about 2 cm. They must have got this strip out of the bit they'd just removed. I bet the language was choice. I'm not sure how I'll deal with this when respray time beckons.

Anyway, I never bothered with the doors or hardtops. It was always sunny wherever I went and the people always smiled and waved so I never felt the need. Don't judge this claim by the accompanying photos. Some of them might look overcast but they're just under exposed. If I look wet it's because I'm simply sweating a lot in my waterproofs....

The Siva Llama was designed by Neville Trickett and uses the running gear of a Hillman Imp. It has a separate steel chassis and the body panels continued the Siva in house utiliy style established with the Mini based Siva Mule. These are even rarer at 12 produced against the 50 or so Llamas they made.

Llamas were made from 1973 to 1976. There were great plans for them. Many light field cars came out at about this time expanding on the concept established by the Mini Moke, which could be made cheaply abroad but also attract the trendy Bohemian set in Knightsbridge.

In my guise as a throwback Bohemian living in Cornwall, I established contact with Neville Trickett about a year ago and he told me what killed the Llama was Chrysler's decision to end production of the Imp in 1976. They announced this in 1974 just as the car was launched, despite previous re-assurances over the Imp's future. Investors immediately withdrew their backing and Siva went out of business after producing a wide range of kit cars that epitomise what Peter Filby - doyen of alternative motoring - called The Fun Car Explosion.

Besides my own car, there are three known survivors. The first one I ever saw was in a scrapyard at Carharrack in Cornwall but it was binned before I knew what it was and could mount a rescue attempt. When another came up for sale, I leapt at the chance.

I subsequently kitted it out with a 998cc engine and entered it in the 1999 Land's End Trial. We got a Finisher's Certificate so it has a competition history but it wasn't really competitive. To make it more suitable for trialling would entail drastic alterations and because it's so rare, I don't want to do that. And that 998cc engine never breathed properly as it only had a 1 & a 1/4 inch SU carb. Apparently this is a demon tweak for trialling but it limits top speed to about 65mph, as I found out.

I also did the Testing Trial in Somerset in 1999. My bouncer let me down so I turned up with a question mark over my entry but fortunately Bee Hayes volunteered. She needed a certain amount of persuading. Her husband is a demon trails sidecarist and she had sworn never to ride with him on a trail. One look at me and my Llama and that vow went out the window. I later discovered she had once been a backing singer for Arthur Brown, as in "I am the God of Hellfire and I bring you.. Fire!" and the Crazy World thereof.

So the plan is now to take the body off and shotblast the chassis and rebuild it as something with more power. My example had not been built very carefully and I feel that it deserves some time and effort to turn it into a sow's ear.

Not too much, mind. I wouldn't swap its cheap and cheerful demeanour for something dear and dreary.

I'm not under any illusions about my Siva Llama. It'll never be a thing of beauty but it's definitely a fun car. It suits summer life in Cornwall and as I write this I realise how much I miss not being able to drive it. I'm glad it got built and mean to have more fun with it dreckly.

Neville Trickett is still designing and building interesting automobiles. An even earlier creation of his was the Minisprint and he is producing these again nowadays from his base in France.