Tony Tamora Titanic Tour's (we are going back!)
Discussion
For those of you that can remember our 2005 trip will know that what happen to our group was incredible, you just couldnt make it up.
(See below our story of 2005)
Well the group has been reformed for 2007 (we have some unfinished business) so once again Tony Tamoras Titanic Tours goes to Le-mans 2007(even though he now has a Sagaris)
The story of our trip in 2005:-
(or how to sink a well planned trip to Le Mans 05)
You know what it's like when you organise a dinner party and only 13 people can make it? You set the table for 14 and put a teddy bear in the spare seat, don't you?
13 people, 8 cars, 2 groups to Portsmouth
The starting grid consisted of (in order of age of conveyance) Steve and Glyn in a Suzuki Gold Chimeara 4.3, Phil in a Griff Taraka 500, Chris and Lee in a very pretty blue Tuscan, John and Tom in the Tango Orange Cerbera 4.5, Andrew in an M3 CSL, myself and Roger in a Tango Tamora, Dave and his son Chris in a yellow Sagaris and Tony M in a bright red Sagaris.
It would have been an all TVR line up had Andrew not sold his Taraka Griff 500 last month in favour of something more reliable . As the weekend unfolded, many of us were glad that he did!
Tackling the 170 mile trip down in one morning and one afternoon pack, we regrouped in the pub just outside the quay and toasted the warming weather and the start of our outing in the usual fashion.
Several hours later and with the cars safely stowed we settled down for a pleasant evening of beer, wine and food before hitting the cabins for a few hours sleep.
This turned out to be a few less hours for Chris and Lee, who unfortunately were sharing their cabin with myself, Andrew and Roger who turned out to be the unofficial accopello snorers of the party.
The French leg. (Oh God, the French leg.)
Decamping on the other side saw us head off in assertive fashion the wrong way up the dual carriageway for an impromptu drive down the scenic coastal route.
Having found our way back onto the right road, we drove but a few miles before Chris, tiring of the sound of silencer sliding along the tarmac pulled us all over for a spot of skin burning action, trying to re-attach his Tuscan s nearside silencer hanger, but to no avail.
So driving on to a Citroen garage, we managed to find a mechanic to do the job for us. Hey, these things happen.
Feeling peckish, we'd decided to find a roadside cafe for some lunch, but before finding anywhere suitable, we managed to get split up into two groups again. In our group was Dave (yellow Saggy), Andrew (BMW), Tony (red Saggy), Chris (blue Tuscan) and myself.
Orbital
Whilst hacking up a bit of dual carriageway, Dave stretched the Saggy s legs a little, and just after coming past fast enough to physically move me on the road with the air he was pushing out of the way, his bonnet tore off and up over his roof. Mesmerised by the bright yellow flying object, I nearly lost control of the Tamora trying to get out of my prediction of its path.
Pulling over on the hard shoulder, Dave, Chris and Andrew ran back up the road to retrieve the offending bits of bodywork from the road, but not quick enough to prevent Tony driving his red Saggy straight over one piece, splitting his canard wing and cutting the sidewall of his nearside front tyre, as we were later to discover.
Whilst trying to work out what had happened, a local Gendarme arrived on his motorcycle and ushered us off the road to somewhere a little safer. After chucking the bits into Andrew s CSL we found a truck stop a few clicks further on, and set about trying to work out a), what had happened, and b) how we were going to get the car the remaining 30 miles to the circuit.
Our answers were a), the nut retaining the catch to the bracket at the front offside corner on the underside of the main bonnet and come loose, allowing the catch to disconnect from the bonnet. This allowed the bonnet to be sucked up into the low pressure area over the bonnet, catching the wind under it, and doing a Malcolm Campbell. With little left to hold it in place, the service bonnet soon followed suit. Looking at the other side, the nuts aren t even Nyloks. On further investigation on Pistonheads, it would appear this is not an isolated incident!; b), tape what was left of the bonnet back in place and drive slowly to the circuit whilst contacting the factory to see if they could fly another bonnet out in time for the return trip on Monday.
Do you mind not flicking ash in my boot, Tony?
Whilst sorting this out, we also discovered that my Tamora was leaking fuel out from a drain hole under the boot. Further investigation revealed a split hose from the tank to the solid fuel return pipe to the top of the tank, causing high pressure fuel to leak out into the boot and out the drain hole. (This was discovered by Saggy Tony who was smoking a cigarette at the time.)
Please bear in mind that both of these are brand new, 05 plate, 3 year warranty, weve sorted out the reliability issues cars.
Having called the RAC to tow my car to the circuit, we retreated to the truck stop for some lunch while we waited. On emerging, Tony discovered his cut sidewall and resulting flat tyre. After much deliberating (like you always get when a group of men are tasked with resolving a problem) Andrew and Lee (who spoke fluent French) nicked off into nearby Laval to see if they could find a tyre for Tony and some fuel hose and jubilee clips for me.
Some time later they reappeared with a length of hose and clips and an arrangement for a replacement tyre the following day at a local French equivalent of Kwikfit who were happy to look after the car in the meantime.
We tried sticking some tyre weld into Tony's tyre, but just ended up with a snowstorm coming out of the split, but eventually tried using an inflatable lilo patch over the outside to stem the flow long enough for a second can to work and keep the tyre inflated. Tony wasnt too keen to drive any distance on it, understandably.
He had already arranged for a new wheel and tyre to be brought out with a member of staff from a UK dealer who hadn't yet left for the race. Handily, the RAC recover truck arrived just after we'd finished fixing my car, so we used it to take Tony's Saggy to the circuit instead, closely followed by Dave in the yellow one. The truck driver at thoughtfully placed some 2 inch thick planks of wood in front of the angled bed to assist with ground clearance issues when loading the car, but as these were met by the rear wheels, shot out from the back of the car like a pair of skateboards. If anyone had been standing in the way, they would have taken their feet of at the ankles!
Arriving in style (not).
A very embarrassing scene indeed was created as two flagship TVR models arrive at La Sarthe, one on a transporter and one being covered in silver duck tape.
Having taken 8 hours to travel the 140 miles from St Malo to the circuit, Andrew, John, Tom and Chris ventured out in the BMW to Arnarge for supplies (okay, beer) and Dave and John cooked us supper.
That'll be 45 Euro's Monsuir.
On Friday we ventured out to Indianapolis for the Pistonheads meet. Chris and Lee cruised into Arnarge to mbe met by the roundabiut spinners....well you have to oblige don't you? Out pops the Gendarme, with hand outstretched for some beer vouchers. B*st*rds!
Woo Woo
On arriving back to the circuit, Dave's yellow Sag was doing a passable impression of Ivor the Engine, with steam hissing out from under his impromptu bonnet. Suspecting another of TVR's high quality hoses, we left it to cool for inspection in the morning.
Chris also found that he could no longer open his door using the button under the door mirror, but the car thought it was still open, so wouldn't close his window either.
Drivers Parade
That evening, we ventured into Le Mans proper for the driver's parade, which was a little disappointing due to the time gap between each vintage car and team's drivers, so we found a spot to get a meal and enjoy a beer or two before catching the midnight coach back to the circuit. However, the peanut smuggling baton twirlers were rather fetching (see Dave for copies of the video).
Err, darling?
Having been split up again, we bumped into other members of our party later on who informed us that Steve had had his rucksack stolen. Now this would not have been too much of a disaster were it not for the fact that it contained his car keys, two cameras, one lens, his Euros, his Sterling, passport, entrance tickets and Glyn's tickets as well.
After a number of frantic calls to various institutions, it was established that yes, he could get back home, but no, he couldn't go on his family holiday to Fuerta Ventura on Tuesday as it would take at least seven days to get a replacement passport. After asking his wife if she fancied going to Cornwall instead of the boring old Canary Isles, Steve decided to go home and face the music, so first thing on Saturday, even before the race had begun, Steve and Glyn packed up and headed to Caen via the local police station to gain the necessary paperwork to smooth their journey.
We have since learned that Steve is recovering nicely in hospital.
Castrated Cerbera
Whilst reflecting on Steve's plight on Saturday, Andrew was staring at John's Cerbie and noticed that only three of his five wheel nuts were silver, the other two being black (to suit his wheels). He mentioned this to John who having felt steering vibration on the way down, got up to investigate, and discovered that they were indeed not black, but absent.
Using Saggy Tony's torque wrench, a nut was pinched from a rear wheel and the remaining nuts checked. Turns out, only two of the remaining three were tight. The car had been in for a service recently, as well. To top it all, the locking wheel nut key was missing, so if he was to have a puncture, the wheel could not be removed for repair. We can only assume that the wheels had been removed for brake wear inspection, and not tightened on refitting.
It does not bear thinking about what could have happened had the front wheel detached itself from the car at anything like a reasonable speed.
Incontinence
Dave had a look at his cooling system, and after an hour we came to the conclusion that his radiator had split as there was no sign of damage, and the thing sits horizontally anyway.
Finally admitting defeat, Dave called the RAC to collect the car and repatriate it. Missing the start of the race waiting for the recovery truck, it eventually left at about 5.30pm. Dave was going to go with it, but then Chris, his son started suffering from hay fever, so he decided, that on reflection, it would be better for him to stay and look after his son, than go and look after his car. (Personally I think it had more to do with my vague threats to educate Chris at the minty hippo.)
Breaking, one low mileage Sagaris.
However, before it was removed, it donated a couple of wheel nuts to John and a rear wheel and tyre to Saggy Tony (so the new set could be returned unused in it.)
Nick & Caroline
We decided to eat out again on Saturday evening, and ventured into nearby Arnarge where I had arranged to meet another member of the West Mids car club and his girlfriend. After dinner, we drove to Arnarge corner to watch some of the night racing, and spent some time walking up to Indianapolis as well. Trying to find a way out of the car park and back to Houx Annex proved tricky, but eventually we all made it, finishing the night with a few drinks and promises of seeing the sun rise over the action on the circuit.
That s a lovely coloured nailbrush, Dave!
Whilst in Arnage, Dave who seems to be quite anal about his hygiene, bought a rather fetching pink nailbrush. By the end of the evening I had demonstrated to Dave that I was quite anal about these matters as well.
Lunch in Fille by the river
On Sunday, Saggy Tony, Chris and French Lee made the decision to head back early as well, leaving eight of us to travel out for brunch. John and Tom left before us and found a caf in Arnarge, but we wanted to go out into the villages and came across the village of Fille, about 7 kms south of Arnage, on the river. We spend a pleasant couple of hours drinking beer on its banks and eating jambon et fromage sur pain in the caf .
Getting back to the circuit at around 2.30pm, we waded through the 40 degree heat to catch the last hour's racing, only to discover that racing had indeed stopped several hours previously to be replaced with some Sunday afternoon cruising. Not being prepared to endure the relentless sun to watch such crap, we repaired to the camp to open some more beer and enjoy each other's company in the relative comfort of the shade offered by the two gazebos we had brought along.
A quiet Sunday in.
Whilst in Arnarge we had bought provisions for Sunday night and at around seven thirty cooked steaks with pepper sauce and salad for everyone, although I don t think anyone had much of an appetite as it was still over 30 degrees. However, once the sun had gone down, and the temperature dropped, the appetites returned and focussed on the remaining wine and beer. This took until about 4am to consume, along with much singing and letting off of fireworks (some at ground level) much to the amusement of our fellow campers, I am sure.
Monday's long drive home.
Fortunately, Monday started dull and overcast which allowed us a lie in and some respite when packing up the gear. Dave and Chris piled into Andrew's BM along with their gear, and after ensuring we left nothing serviceable for the gyppos, except a little used pink nail brush, we called in on Arnarge for the last time for breakfast and fuel before starting out on the drive back to Caen, and England. Getting to the boat in the nick of time (why does it take so long to drive anywhere in groups?) we embarked and took the opportunity to rest up before the last 170 mile leg home.
Stopping at Bicester for a last coffee, we made it home at around 1am and fell headfirst into bed.
Despite all the, err, hiccups, this was a fantastic trip one of those that are reminised over for years to come. We don't buy TVRs for their reliability we buy them as much for their quirkiness as their performance and head turning looks and noise. Having said that, it is still very disappointing for these new 3 year warranty cars still showing the same old issues previous cars have shown.
Even saggy Tony, whose puncture was hardly his fault has had a catalog of issues since he took delivery of his car at Easter, and the only difference seems to be that TVR will be paying for their cockups for much longer than on older cars. Someone told me they allocate 7% of the retail value of each new car sold towards remedial warranty costs. That would be around 3,500 on a 50,000 Sagaris. I think they are still being a little optimistic.
If I was Dave, I would be absolutely gutted, and I am sure he will be having some interesting dialog with the factory.
The moral of this story is:-
Always pack a blow up doll for inflation in cases of 13 in your group.
(See below our story of 2005)
Well the group has been reformed for 2007 (we have some unfinished business) so once again Tony Tamoras Titanic Tours goes to Le-mans 2007(even though he now has a Sagaris)
The story of our trip in 2005:-
(or how to sink a well planned trip to Le Mans 05)
You know what it's like when you organise a dinner party and only 13 people can make it? You set the table for 14 and put a teddy bear in the spare seat, don't you?
13 people, 8 cars, 2 groups to Portsmouth
The starting grid consisted of (in order of age of conveyance) Steve and Glyn in a Suzuki Gold Chimeara 4.3, Phil in a Griff Taraka 500, Chris and Lee in a very pretty blue Tuscan, John and Tom in the Tango Orange Cerbera 4.5, Andrew in an M3 CSL, myself and Roger in a Tango Tamora, Dave and his son Chris in a yellow Sagaris and Tony M in a bright red Sagaris.
It would have been an all TVR line up had Andrew not sold his Taraka Griff 500 last month in favour of something more reliable . As the weekend unfolded, many of us were glad that he did!
Tackling the 170 mile trip down in one morning and one afternoon pack, we regrouped in the pub just outside the quay and toasted the warming weather and the start of our outing in the usual fashion.
Several hours later and with the cars safely stowed we settled down for a pleasant evening of beer, wine and food before hitting the cabins for a few hours sleep.
This turned out to be a few less hours for Chris and Lee, who unfortunately were sharing their cabin with myself, Andrew and Roger who turned out to be the unofficial accopello snorers of the party.
The French leg. (Oh God, the French leg.)
Decamping on the other side saw us head off in assertive fashion the wrong way up the dual carriageway for an impromptu drive down the scenic coastal route.
Having found our way back onto the right road, we drove but a few miles before Chris, tiring of the sound of silencer sliding along the tarmac pulled us all over for a spot of skin burning action, trying to re-attach his Tuscan s nearside silencer hanger, but to no avail.
So driving on to a Citroen garage, we managed to find a mechanic to do the job for us. Hey, these things happen.
Feeling peckish, we'd decided to find a roadside cafe for some lunch, but before finding anywhere suitable, we managed to get split up into two groups again. In our group was Dave (yellow Saggy), Andrew (BMW), Tony (red Saggy), Chris (blue Tuscan) and myself.
Orbital
Whilst hacking up a bit of dual carriageway, Dave stretched the Saggy s legs a little, and just after coming past fast enough to physically move me on the road with the air he was pushing out of the way, his bonnet tore off and up over his roof. Mesmerised by the bright yellow flying object, I nearly lost control of the Tamora trying to get out of my prediction of its path.
Pulling over on the hard shoulder, Dave, Chris and Andrew ran back up the road to retrieve the offending bits of bodywork from the road, but not quick enough to prevent Tony driving his red Saggy straight over one piece, splitting his canard wing and cutting the sidewall of his nearside front tyre, as we were later to discover.
Whilst trying to work out what had happened, a local Gendarme arrived on his motorcycle and ushered us off the road to somewhere a little safer. After chucking the bits into Andrew s CSL we found a truck stop a few clicks further on, and set about trying to work out a), what had happened, and b) how we were going to get the car the remaining 30 miles to the circuit.
Our answers were a), the nut retaining the catch to the bracket at the front offside corner on the underside of the main bonnet and come loose, allowing the catch to disconnect from the bonnet. This allowed the bonnet to be sucked up into the low pressure area over the bonnet, catching the wind under it, and doing a Malcolm Campbell. With little left to hold it in place, the service bonnet soon followed suit. Looking at the other side, the nuts aren t even Nyloks. On further investigation on Pistonheads, it would appear this is not an isolated incident!; b), tape what was left of the bonnet back in place and drive slowly to the circuit whilst contacting the factory to see if they could fly another bonnet out in time for the return trip on Monday.
Do you mind not flicking ash in my boot, Tony?
Whilst sorting this out, we also discovered that my Tamora was leaking fuel out from a drain hole under the boot. Further investigation revealed a split hose from the tank to the solid fuel return pipe to the top of the tank, causing high pressure fuel to leak out into the boot and out the drain hole. (This was discovered by Saggy Tony who was smoking a cigarette at the time.)
Please bear in mind that both of these are brand new, 05 plate, 3 year warranty, weve sorted out the reliability issues cars.
Having called the RAC to tow my car to the circuit, we retreated to the truck stop for some lunch while we waited. On emerging, Tony discovered his cut sidewall and resulting flat tyre. After much deliberating (like you always get when a group of men are tasked with resolving a problem) Andrew and Lee (who spoke fluent French) nicked off into nearby Laval to see if they could find a tyre for Tony and some fuel hose and jubilee clips for me.
Some time later they reappeared with a length of hose and clips and an arrangement for a replacement tyre the following day at a local French equivalent of Kwikfit who were happy to look after the car in the meantime.
We tried sticking some tyre weld into Tony's tyre, but just ended up with a snowstorm coming out of the split, but eventually tried using an inflatable lilo patch over the outside to stem the flow long enough for a second can to work and keep the tyre inflated. Tony wasnt too keen to drive any distance on it, understandably.
He had already arranged for a new wheel and tyre to be brought out with a member of staff from a UK dealer who hadn't yet left for the race. Handily, the RAC recover truck arrived just after we'd finished fixing my car, so we used it to take Tony's Saggy to the circuit instead, closely followed by Dave in the yellow one. The truck driver at thoughtfully placed some 2 inch thick planks of wood in front of the angled bed to assist with ground clearance issues when loading the car, but as these were met by the rear wheels, shot out from the back of the car like a pair of skateboards. If anyone had been standing in the way, they would have taken their feet of at the ankles!
Arriving in style (not).
A very embarrassing scene indeed was created as two flagship TVR models arrive at La Sarthe, one on a transporter and one being covered in silver duck tape.
Having taken 8 hours to travel the 140 miles from St Malo to the circuit, Andrew, John, Tom and Chris ventured out in the BMW to Arnarge for supplies (okay, beer) and Dave and John cooked us supper.
That'll be 45 Euro's Monsuir.
On Friday we ventured out to Indianapolis for the Pistonheads meet. Chris and Lee cruised into Arnarge to mbe met by the roundabiut spinners....well you have to oblige don't you? Out pops the Gendarme, with hand outstretched for some beer vouchers. B*st*rds!
Woo Woo
On arriving back to the circuit, Dave's yellow Sag was doing a passable impression of Ivor the Engine, with steam hissing out from under his impromptu bonnet. Suspecting another of TVR's high quality hoses, we left it to cool for inspection in the morning.
Chris also found that he could no longer open his door using the button under the door mirror, but the car thought it was still open, so wouldn't close his window either.
Drivers Parade
That evening, we ventured into Le Mans proper for the driver's parade, which was a little disappointing due to the time gap between each vintage car and team's drivers, so we found a spot to get a meal and enjoy a beer or two before catching the midnight coach back to the circuit. However, the peanut smuggling baton twirlers were rather fetching (see Dave for copies of the video).
Err, darling?
Having been split up again, we bumped into other members of our party later on who informed us that Steve had had his rucksack stolen. Now this would not have been too much of a disaster were it not for the fact that it contained his car keys, two cameras, one lens, his Euros, his Sterling, passport, entrance tickets and Glyn's tickets as well.
After a number of frantic calls to various institutions, it was established that yes, he could get back home, but no, he couldn't go on his family holiday to Fuerta Ventura on Tuesday as it would take at least seven days to get a replacement passport. After asking his wife if she fancied going to Cornwall instead of the boring old Canary Isles, Steve decided to go home and face the music, so first thing on Saturday, even before the race had begun, Steve and Glyn packed up and headed to Caen via the local police station to gain the necessary paperwork to smooth their journey.
We have since learned that Steve is recovering nicely in hospital.
Castrated Cerbera
Whilst reflecting on Steve's plight on Saturday, Andrew was staring at John's Cerbie and noticed that only three of his five wheel nuts were silver, the other two being black (to suit his wheels). He mentioned this to John who having felt steering vibration on the way down, got up to investigate, and discovered that they were indeed not black, but absent.
Using Saggy Tony's torque wrench, a nut was pinched from a rear wheel and the remaining nuts checked. Turns out, only two of the remaining three were tight. The car had been in for a service recently, as well. To top it all, the locking wheel nut key was missing, so if he was to have a puncture, the wheel could not be removed for repair. We can only assume that the wheels had been removed for brake wear inspection, and not tightened on refitting.
It does not bear thinking about what could have happened had the front wheel detached itself from the car at anything like a reasonable speed.
Incontinence
Dave had a look at his cooling system, and after an hour we came to the conclusion that his radiator had split as there was no sign of damage, and the thing sits horizontally anyway.
Finally admitting defeat, Dave called the RAC to collect the car and repatriate it. Missing the start of the race waiting for the recovery truck, it eventually left at about 5.30pm. Dave was going to go with it, but then Chris, his son started suffering from hay fever, so he decided, that on reflection, it would be better for him to stay and look after his son, than go and look after his car. (Personally I think it had more to do with my vague threats to educate Chris at the minty hippo.)
Breaking, one low mileage Sagaris.
However, before it was removed, it donated a couple of wheel nuts to John and a rear wheel and tyre to Saggy Tony (so the new set could be returned unused in it.)
Nick & Caroline
We decided to eat out again on Saturday evening, and ventured into nearby Arnarge where I had arranged to meet another member of the West Mids car club and his girlfriend. After dinner, we drove to Arnarge corner to watch some of the night racing, and spent some time walking up to Indianapolis as well. Trying to find a way out of the car park and back to Houx Annex proved tricky, but eventually we all made it, finishing the night with a few drinks and promises of seeing the sun rise over the action on the circuit.
That s a lovely coloured nailbrush, Dave!
Whilst in Arnage, Dave who seems to be quite anal about his hygiene, bought a rather fetching pink nailbrush. By the end of the evening I had demonstrated to Dave that I was quite anal about these matters as well.
Lunch in Fille by the river
On Sunday, Saggy Tony, Chris and French Lee made the decision to head back early as well, leaving eight of us to travel out for brunch. John and Tom left before us and found a caf in Arnarge, but we wanted to go out into the villages and came across the village of Fille, about 7 kms south of Arnage, on the river. We spend a pleasant couple of hours drinking beer on its banks and eating jambon et fromage sur pain in the caf .
Getting back to the circuit at around 2.30pm, we waded through the 40 degree heat to catch the last hour's racing, only to discover that racing had indeed stopped several hours previously to be replaced with some Sunday afternoon cruising. Not being prepared to endure the relentless sun to watch such crap, we repaired to the camp to open some more beer and enjoy each other's company in the relative comfort of the shade offered by the two gazebos we had brought along.
A quiet Sunday in.
Whilst in Arnarge we had bought provisions for Sunday night and at around seven thirty cooked steaks with pepper sauce and salad for everyone, although I don t think anyone had much of an appetite as it was still over 30 degrees. However, once the sun had gone down, and the temperature dropped, the appetites returned and focussed on the remaining wine and beer. This took until about 4am to consume, along with much singing and letting off of fireworks (some at ground level) much to the amusement of our fellow campers, I am sure.
Monday's long drive home.
Fortunately, Monday started dull and overcast which allowed us a lie in and some respite when packing up the gear. Dave and Chris piled into Andrew's BM along with their gear, and after ensuring we left nothing serviceable for the gyppos, except a little used pink nail brush, we called in on Arnarge for the last time for breakfast and fuel before starting out on the drive back to Caen, and England. Getting to the boat in the nick of time (why does it take so long to drive anywhere in groups?) we embarked and took the opportunity to rest up before the last 170 mile leg home.
Stopping at Bicester for a last coffee, we made it home at around 1am and fell headfirst into bed.
Despite all the, err, hiccups, this was a fantastic trip one of those that are reminised over for years to come. We don't buy TVRs for their reliability we buy them as much for their quirkiness as their performance and head turning looks and noise. Having said that, it is still very disappointing for these new 3 year warranty cars still showing the same old issues previous cars have shown.
Even saggy Tony, whose puncture was hardly his fault has had a catalog of issues since he took delivery of his car at Easter, and the only difference seems to be that TVR will be paying for their cockups for much longer than on older cars. Someone told me they allocate 7% of the retail value of each new car sold towards remedial warranty costs. That would be around 3,500 on a 50,000 Sagaris. I think they are still being a little optimistic.
If I was Dave, I would be absolutely gutted, and I am sure he will be having some interesting dialog with the factory.
The moral of this story is:-
Always pack a blow up doll for inflation in cases of 13 in your group.
sportie said:
Whilst hacking up a bit of dual carriageway, Dave stretched the Saggy s legs a little, and just after coming past fast enough to physically move me on the road with the air he was pushing out of the way, his bonnet tore off and up over his roof. Mesmerised by the bright yellow flying object, I nearly lost control of the Tamora trying to get out of my prediction of its path.
I did speak to Dave when I saw his Saggy all duct-taped up. Indeed, that was the last Le Mans I went to.I, too, am returning this year and I'll be too close for comfort to a load of beer-swilling hooligans (you know who you are!).
Great story - only missing what happened to me last year. Left Monday morning around 5am, stopped at a layby around 6am after an hour blast up the motorway (needed to top up the oil).
Steady hand poured oil all down the side of the block, and onto the exhaust manifold... cue 6ft flames.
After a few seconds of panic, I calmly remembered the large bottle of Orangina in the boot - what better to put out a fire!
So, a liberal dousing (taking great care not to get any through the open oil filler hole), followed by all the sugar coated bits of orange catching fire, sending the flames up to 10ft.
Ah, how we laughed as we watched my car burning away in the morning air, with only a Sagaris as alternative transport for the 4 of us back to Blighty.
Luckily, the oil burnt off, the Orangina burnt off, and the flames went out. Leaving me with a fully working car!
Suffice to say I was definitely awake after that moment of...er..."brilliance".
And the best part? One of the guys I was with, just after the flames went out, saying "you should've used a funnel for that. I've got one in the car...."
Steady hand poured oil all down the side of the block, and onto the exhaust manifold... cue 6ft flames.
After a few seconds of panic, I calmly remembered the large bottle of Orangina in the boot - what better to put out a fire!
So, a liberal dousing (taking great care not to get any through the open oil filler hole), followed by all the sugar coated bits of orange catching fire, sending the flames up to 10ft.
Ah, how we laughed as we watched my car burning away in the morning air, with only a Sagaris as alternative transport for the 4 of us back to Blighty.
Luckily, the oil burnt off, the Orangina burnt off, and the flames went out. Leaving me with a fully working car!
Suffice to say I was definitely awake after that moment of...er..."brilliance".
And the best part? One of the guys I was with, just after the flames went out, saying "you should've used a funnel for that. I've got one in the car...."
Edited by dan101smith on Thursday 5th June 16:15
I'm taking my relatively recently acquired 2002 Tuscan this year and was feeling pretty confident about it's reliability, until now...hi guys,
i was travelling down as passenger in jermery's purple sagaris seems like 2005 was not the year for them as we had quite an adventure coming back up!!
Everything had gone well on the trip down. The trip back up was a little different!! We left Monday morning breaking from the main group of Northants TVRCC with a black tuscan driven by ian. We decided to head out east to avoid the traffic and police for a nice run up to Calais.
After a couple of hours of nice driving we were accelerating down a long stretch when the accelerator went lose and hit the floor and we lost power.
The throttle cable had snapped!! We had the car apart to see if anything could be bodged together to get us going, unfortunately it was not good! The tuscan went off and found a local Citroën garage who agreed to recover us when he had a chance!!!! Time was getting on so we let the tuscan go so they could make the ferry.
Eventually we were recovered to the garage and a dodgy temporay fix was done using a Citroën throttle cable, it tended to stick but we were on our way again!!!
We stopped for a drink in a little town where we had to make the decion to gun it and try to make the ferry or take it easy and get one on Tuesday! Only one choise really!!
Later on it looked that we might make it, we stopped at a petrol station to fill up!! However they would not except my English credit card and we had no cash so we carried on once again chancing it!!!
We were on the final stretch of peage when we ran out of petrol lucky at the top of a hill, we crused down the other side and lucky off at an exit!!
At the exit gate to our amassment was a lone petrol pump!!! But yet again would only accept French credit cards, after not seeing any cars leave at this exit we finally saw a car and flagged it down, and managed to convince them to pay for some fuel in return for any lose change floating around the car, under the seats!! Woo hoo we were mobile again we got to the end of the toll the speedo said we were doing 0 mph?? we reached the toll booth and the windows dropped and the ‘christmas tree lights’ flashed as on start up the screen said TVR engineering and shut down!!! What now!!!!
I pushed the car through the gate and some nice people came over from the rest area and gave us a hand to jump start it! It fired into life and we were off again, with Calais not far now nothing could stop us!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
After awhile the car shut down again we luckly cruised to an exit from the dual carriage way and stopped in a little lane!! Unable to get any power into the car this was now terminal, we rang for recovery and sat and waited, we could do nothing but laugh as the sun went down, after everything we had been through and how close we had gotten.
We were recovered to the car park for the ferry were we met a Nissan with a blown engine! Cracked open a bottle vodka and spent the night sleeping in a sleeping bag on the tarmac.
Once back in dover we were recovered to tvr power were we borrow a Takara for blast home!!!
It turns out that someone at the factory had fitted a wrong fuse to the alternator!! Doh!!! And we were unable to reaconise this as no one had a fuse diagram for the sagaris as it was too new!!!!!!!!!
Im now awaiting 2008! See you there, hopefully!
Robin
i was travelling down as passenger in jermery's purple sagaris seems like 2005 was not the year for them as we had quite an adventure coming back up!!
Everything had gone well on the trip down. The trip back up was a little different!! We left Monday morning breaking from the main group of Northants TVRCC with a black tuscan driven by ian. We decided to head out east to avoid the traffic and police for a nice run up to Calais.
After a couple of hours of nice driving we were accelerating down a long stretch when the accelerator went lose and hit the floor and we lost power.
The throttle cable had snapped!! We had the car apart to see if anything could be bodged together to get us going, unfortunately it was not good! The tuscan went off and found a local Citroën garage who agreed to recover us when he had a chance!!!! Time was getting on so we let the tuscan go so they could make the ferry.
Eventually we were recovered to the garage and a dodgy temporay fix was done using a Citroën throttle cable, it tended to stick but we were on our way again!!!
We stopped for a drink in a little town where we had to make the decion to gun it and try to make the ferry or take it easy and get one on Tuesday! Only one choise really!!
Later on it looked that we might make it, we stopped at a petrol station to fill up!! However they would not except my English credit card and we had no cash so we carried on once again chancing it!!!
We were on the final stretch of peage when we ran out of petrol lucky at the top of a hill, we crused down the other side and lucky off at an exit!!
At the exit gate to our amassment was a lone petrol pump!!! But yet again would only accept French credit cards, after not seeing any cars leave at this exit we finally saw a car and flagged it down, and managed to convince them to pay for some fuel in return for any lose change floating around the car, under the seats!! Woo hoo we were mobile again we got to the end of the toll the speedo said we were doing 0 mph?? we reached the toll booth and the windows dropped and the ‘christmas tree lights’ flashed as on start up the screen said TVR engineering and shut down!!! What now!!!!
I pushed the car through the gate and some nice people came over from the rest area and gave us a hand to jump start it! It fired into life and we were off again, with Calais not far now nothing could stop us!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
After awhile the car shut down again we luckly cruised to an exit from the dual carriage way and stopped in a little lane!! Unable to get any power into the car this was now terminal, we rang for recovery and sat and waited, we could do nothing but laugh as the sun went down, after everything we had been through and how close we had gotten.
We were recovered to the car park for the ferry were we met a Nissan with a blown engine! Cracked open a bottle vodka and spent the night sleeping in a sleeping bag on the tarmac.
Once back in dover we were recovered to tvr power were we borrow a Takara for blast home!!!
It turns out that someone at the factory had fitted a wrong fuse to the alternator!! Doh!!! And we were unable to reaconise this as no one had a fuse diagram for the sagaris as it was too new!!!!!!!!!
Im now awaiting 2008! See you there, hopefully!
Robin
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