My Newest Favourite Thing: The E-Type Jag

"The most beautiful car ever made" - Enzo Ferrari

"I want that car and I want it now!" - Frank Sinatra

"Every car that came before and every one that has happened since is irrelevant." - James Elliott, Classic & Sports Car

When I was fifteen, I visited my dad at his work place. He was doing very important things at the forefront of computing. He had a to-do pad on his desk and, while he was out of his office making coffee (or, more likely, finding someone to make it for us), I wrote on it 'Buy Daughter an E-Type Jag'. He said nothing about it and I presumed he hadn't seen it, or just tossed it in the bin, but he came home from work the next week with a Matchbox Jaguar E-Type, which remains one of my most treasured possessions.

Matchbox E-Type Jags

When I got married, I added one to the wedding present list, and I received a beautiful model of a silver Series 3 coupe. It was exquisite, right down to the gleaming spokes of the wheels. Clearly, we were getting closer. Him Outdoors arranged one as our wedding car, and we had one booked, but the week before, the owner phoned us to tell us that it had failed its MOT and couldn't be on the road. He offered us an Austin Healey as a replacement. As if. Him Outdoors had had one job. (As it turned out, we got a launch which ferried us up and down The Thames while we had a bottle of champagne and crossed the county border in style, so all was marvellous.)

The Jaguar E-Type is a British sports car that was manufactured by Jaguar Cars Ltd between 1961 and 1975. Launched at the Geneva show in March 1961, it was designed by former aeronautics engineer, Malcolm Sayer, who had previously worked for the Bristol Aeroplane Company during World War II. It was fast: 150 mph top speed and 0-60 mph in under seven seconds, and it had a range of features that made it exceptional. 

• Unitary construction: a method of fabricating vehicles where the body, floor pan and chasis are built on one unit, resulting in high performance torsional rigidity
• All-steel monocoque, which offers high fuel efficiency due to low weight: the whole structure is an outer shell (monocoque meaning 'single shell' in French) which provides better space efficiency and crash protection
• Disc brakes: the E-Type had them on all wheels, at a time when few mass-produced cars did
• Rack and pinion steering 
• Front and rear suspension: double wishbones at the front, wishbones and twin coil/ damper units at the rear

Okay, so maybe I looked most of that up (although I did know it was fast for the time), because if I'm honest, I'm not all that interested in the specific features. What thrills me is the looks. This is simply the most spectacular thing on wheels. I'm far from alone in thinking so. In March 2008, the Jaguar E-Type ranked first in the Daily Telegraph list on the world's 100 most beautiful cars of all time. That may be the only time I agree with that paper. 

The New York City Museum of Modern Art has six cars in its permanent design collection, and the Jaguar E-Type is one of them. The others are a Cicistalia 202GT, Jeep, Smartcar, Volkswagen Beetle and F1 Racing Car (Ferrari 641), which may have historical and cultural significance, but they haven't got equivalent style. In 2018 James Elliott wrote in Classic & Sports Car, "The Jaguar E-type is the most commonly desired car in the world. Period. Even car-haters swoon in its presence and, if you ever want to be taken seriously as a classic car dealer, you must have one on your forecourt."

It's hard to argue with that design and those vital statistics: length of 14ft, 8in; counterbalanced by width of 5ft, 5in. It looks as though it was designed by a human to appeal to our artistic and aesthetic instincts, rather than by a computer to appeal to power-to-weight ratios and wind-tunnel performance. It was both. There were 72,500 of all types built and, according to Elliott, "the E-type is the barometer of the entire classic car market and has been since day one."

Finally keeping a promise and completing his job (seventeen years on; who says we have to keep nagging - things will be accomplished eventually), for my birthday last year, Him Outdoors hired one for the day. It was amazing, and a little bit terrifying. I was overwhelmed by my dreams coming true, and by the slightly erratic nature of the beast. 

By modern standards of power steering, the directional motion is tough. The bonnet is so long that you sometimes have to nudge out of a side-road before you can actually see what's coming. There are no wing mirrors and the view from the rear mirror is limited.The engine wants to let rip - this really is a powerful cat - and it can be strenuous to control that surge. She has modern tyres that grip the road (apparently not as thrilling to racing drivers who enjoy the thrill of high-speed cornering on tiptoe), but if you're not going quickly enough around a corner, she will wander a fraction to try and hint who's boss. She can smell fear. 

Bearing all that in mind, I took a couple of turns around the carpark, and was content to let Him Outdoors do the lion's share of the driving. I took the photos (we were in Cambridgeshire; a land of thatched houses, village greens and picturesque pubs) and watched the people watching us. We had been told that people would make way for us and let us into traffic. They did. We had been told that people would smile and wave as everyone loves an E-Type Jag (only the Jensen Interceptor receives a fraction of the interest according to the bloke who rented it to us). They did. 

We had been told that people would want to stop and talk to us about the car. They did. We had stopped at the roadside because I wanted to take picture of the car against the ploughed fields and the sunset. A chap pulled up alongside us and asked if we needed any help. He said that he used to own an E-Type and, seeing one stopped at the side of the road brought back memories of his multiple breakdowns. We had a chat and he could barely take his eyes off her. I don't blame him.

In an article for GQ entitled, The A-Z of the Jaguar E-Type: a 1960s icon that's never out of style, Marc McLaren wrote that the E-Type was "as integral a part of the Swinging Sixties as Mary Quant miniskirts and Mod suits". It's also timeless. In 2017 an E-Type Zero was used as a wedding car by Prince Harry and the new Duchess of Sussex - what've they got that we haven't...? It's an electric version of a 1968 Series 1.5 Jaguar E-Type Roadster. Buyers could either provide their own donor vehicle for conversion or let Jaguar Classic source a donor car to be rebuilt - the BYO price was quoted as GBP60,000.

It would be a shame to lose that engine, but it's more environmentally conscious, although development was halted in November 2019, and no further explanation appears to be forthcoming. Meanwhile, she sounds sensational; that cat-like purr is content for now, but it contains a suggestion of power, just waiting to be unleashed. I am utterly smitten. 

"If it's not an E-type Jag; it's just a car." - Me

Rolling Sculpture: The Shape of Speed

I'm not particularly a fan of vintage or classic cars, or any cars come to that - they're a fine mode of transport, but if it's not an E-type Jag; it's just a car. The exhibition at the Portland Art Museum, however, intrigued me. It was called The Shape of Speed and it featured nineteen rare streamlined vehicles. These models are shiny and glorious with many Art Deco features and precision details but, as with anything new, they took a while to catch on with the public at a time when people wanted something that looked like everything else. 

The concept of streamlining has fascinated people for generations. The years between 1930 and the outbreak of World War II saw rapid advances in the design of aircraft, trains and highways. These changes, along with global events like the 1939 World Fair in New York spurred automotive designers and engineers to create streamlined cars that were aerodynamic, fast, and increasingly fuel-efficient.

The 1934 Chrysler Imperial Model CV Airflow Coupe was miles ahead in safety and strength, and its 'dramatically different shape' was influenced by the fastest railroad locomotives of its time. Unfortunately, however, people purchasing cars wanted something more conservative, and 'its unconventional design was also miles ahead of public acceptance'. Sales figures were 'disappointing'. A less radical and simplified style was brought out the following year, which proved to be 'more marketable to the car-buying public'.

1934 Chrysler Imperial Model CV Airflow Coupe

The cars on display, presented as kinetic art, are indeed rolling sculpture, yet they are eminently capable of dynamic function. As guest curator, Ken Gross, former executive director of the Petersen Automotive Museum in Los Angeles notes,

"The seventeen cars and two motorcycles in this exhibition were designed without the myriad safety and crash-absorbing constraints that affect the look and form of the modern automobile. The operative charge was that they be sleek and streamlined. We will not see their like again."

The Spirit of Motion, more popularly known as the 'Sharknose Graham' appears to be moving while at rest. Its massive headlights are Art Deco-inspired with elaborately scribed lenses and a squarish-shape that must have encouraged considerable comment in the day. The styling was a complete flop in sales.

Graham Spirit of Motion

The 1937 Lincoln-Zephyr Coupe is considered to be 'the first successful streamline car in America'. It sold more than 180,000 units (finally ending production in 1942), saved the faltering Lincoln brand from oblivion, and helped pave the way for more aerodynamic successors. I like the back of it; it looks like there's speed and power in those curves.

1937 Lincoln-Zephyr Coupe

These automobile designs were organic, with many of them emulating the teardrop shape then considered to be perfect for cheating the wind. The results were brought to life in cars whose startling shapes seemed to invite them to be embraced and caressed. Even if they weren't noticeably faster than their predecessors, they looked fast.

American Paul M. Lewis planned an affordable, lightweight, aerodynamic and distinctive-looking car of the future. The museum catalogue informs me that, 'The Airmobile's independent front suspension was composed of tubular shock absorbers, coil springs and control arms. The odd car's single rear wheel, which was smaller than the two front wheel, was supported by a longitudinal, semi-elliptic leaf spring, a lone trailing arm, and a single hydraulic shock absorber.' No, I don't know what any of that means, but it looks like an inverse Reliant Robin from The Jetsons. And it's bright orange.

This shape of speed found prominence in countless other designs of the period, ranging from the architecture of Streamline Moderne to kitchen appliances, radios, and pencil sharpeners. The automobile, however, became the perfect metal canvas for streamlined design. 

The Cord 812 Supercharged is an impressive machine. It was the first American front-wheel-drive car with independent front suspension. New features included hidden door hinges, petrol cap, and headlights (obviously these were visible when they were turned on), rear-hinged bonnet (rather than the side-opening one more usual at the time), and variable speed windscreen wipers. 

The most famous feature was the 'coffin nose', a louvered wraparound grille, which came from designer Gordon Buehrig's desire not to have a conventional grille. The supercharged models were distinguished from the ordinarily-charged models by the brilliant chrome-plated external exhaust pipes mounted on each side of the bonnet and grille. 

As we've established, when it comes to cars, I'm more interested in the design than the details, and I think this looks pretty distinctive. I'm not alone; in 1996 American Heritage magazine proclaimed it, 'The Single Most Beautiful American Car'. In 2006, the 'Classic Cord' Hot Wheels toy car of the 1960s, a convertible coupe, was one of the most valuable and commanded up to US$800 if still in an unopened package. 

Cord 812 Supercharged

The 1938 Mercedes-Benz 540K Streamliner was specially built as a test vehicle for the German branch of the Dunlop tyre company. It was a unique vehicle, used by a US serviceman after the war and then returned to Mercedes-Benz in the 1950s, whereupon its bodywork was removed and most of its mechanical components were taken off and lost. Following the rediscovery of the chassis, restoration technicians at Mercedes-Benz elected to build a new body using traditional methods. Car enthusiasts were suitably enthused. 

Mercedes-Benz 540K Streamliner

Motorbikes are often romantic pieces of engineering design - unless they are those ones where the rider sits back like they're in an armchair: those may be comfortable, but they're ugly and don't really seem to be playing the game. This one is glorious - if probably impractical. The Henderson KJ Streamline Motorcycle from 1930 is a one-off, built by craftsman Orley Ray Courtney. The catalogue notes that it had a 'power hammer-formed steel body and a rear end that looked like it belonged on a speedboat.' Probably.

Henderson KJ Streamline Motorcycle

The catalogue notes, 'Chrysler confidently touted the 1941 concept car, the Thunderbolt, as 'The Car of the Future'. Sporting a smooth, aerodynamic body shell, hidden headlights, enclosed wheels, and a retractable, one-piece metal hardtop (an American first), the roadster was devoid of superfluous ornamentation, with the exception of a single, jagged lightning bolt on each door. It stood apart from everything else on the road, hinting that tomorrow's Chryslers would leave their angular, upright, and more prosaic rivals in the dust.'I think it looks like a liquorice torpedo.

Chrysler Thunderbolt

This 1938 Talbot-Lago T-150-C-SS has lots of numbers and letters in its name, so it must be highly qualified. Or something. Apparently it was the first one of three built with aluminium alloy coachwork and is unique in several ways, thanks to its lightweight body, fold-out front windscreen, and competition-style exhaust headers. It's also pretty and shiny with nice curves and a gorgeous glossy shine.

Talbot-Lago T-150-C-SS

The Bugatti Type 57 Aérolithe is one of my favourite models on the car-walk. Designed by Jean Bugatti, the Aérolithe (French for Meteorite) was a one-of-a-kind model that was built by Bugatti to star at the 1935 London and Paris Auto Salons. After the touring continental show circuit, the one-off Aérolithe disappeared. The one on display is an exact re-creation of the earliest known Type 57 chassis.

Bugatti Type 57 Aérolithe

It may be partially that mint green colour, but it is such a dramatic example of Art Deco styling. It may be reminiscent of luggage or a sofa, but those sloping lines and rivets are glorious. According to the catalogue, 'the avante-garde couple was sensually curvaceous, with a flowing sculptural body that was in marked contrast to the era's square-rigged competitors'. This is not something I would usually say, but just look at that rear end!

Joseph Figoni (French, born in Italy, 1894-1978) and Ovidio Falaschi (French, born Italy, unknown-1978), renowned Paris-based carrossiers (coachbuilders) were noted for their swoopy, elegant custom coachwork in the mid to late 1930s.

Richard Adatto,  resident of Seattle, author and expert on pre-World War II French aerodynamic cars wrote, "Joseph Figoni took modern streamlining to the next level by allowing the optimal aerodynamic shape to dictate the styling. Instead of two pontoon fenders that protruded from the car's body, Figoni found a way to incorporate them into the body, heightening the impression of a singular, flowing form."

1938 Delahaye 135M Roadster

"These sensuous curves are considered the quintessential expression of 1930s luxury European automobiles. Often described as 'rolling sculptures' or 'Paris gowns on wheels', Figoni and Falschi's voluptuous creations were the epitome of Art Deco automobile elegance." It is believed that only eleven of these roadsters were built.

Friday Five: Random Thoughts

Here are some thoughts for the week, which are in no particular order and bear no discernible relation to each other.

5 Random Thoughts:

1. We have just had our oven fixed. It has been out of order for about two weeks. The first thing I made in it was baked potatoes. I think they are the food of the Gods. Someone told me they are the meal of poverty. Whatever, they taste great with butter, baked beans and grated cheese. 
2. I was talking to a friend's teenage boy child, and he told me that his three favourite things are Bionicles (a line of Lego construction toys), his family, and food. This seems like a solid, no-nonsense list to me. I remember at a slightly younger age telling my mother I loved her almost as much as my bed. I do greatly value my sleep, and probably meant this as a compliment, but it is patently unfair. I'm sure she's long since forgotten the comment, but I am still racked by guilt - sometimes even to the point that it stops me sleeping at night.
3. I have recently been irritated by advertising slogans, which fail to follow the rules of grammar. For example, an investment finance company advertises itself with the slogan, 'Be ready for next.' Next what? Unless they are referring to the British clothing retailer, founded in Leeds in 1861, which in 2012 overtook Marks and Spencer as the UK's largest clothing retailer, this is an incomplete sentence. It requires a noun at least, if not a definite article. A car manufacturer heralds its brand with the tagline, 'Experience amazing'. Again, I question, amazing what? Grace? Gross disregard for basic syntax? Another culprit that uses adjectives as nouns with car(e)less abandon begs us to 'unlock the more'. I don't even know where to begin with this abomination. Or should I say, 'Witness the wrong'? I read a report this week for the UK Department of Education which claims that more than a quarter of children starting primary school are unable to communicate in full sentences. Is this surprising when so-called educated marketing graduates can't either?
4. My car has been recalled because it has a faulty airbag. I have been sent dire warnings that, 'If you are involved in a collision, the airbag can go off with too much explosive force, causing sharp metal fragments to shoot out and and kill or seriously injure people in your vehicle.' (The bold type is theirs.) This will apparently be fixed free of charge, which is as it should be, and there is no implied fault on behalf of the owner. I phoned up my Toyota dealer to book in for the free replacement, and they informed me that they were not taking bookings for this procedure until next week. You can probably imagine how terrified I am of driving right now. 
5. All of which leads me nicely to the point that I suffer from anxiety. I count things as part of daily life. My morning ritual involves counting how many minutes to steep the teabag (three) to how many times I brush and rinse my teeth (five). When I fold the washing I fold five items before I put them away. When I do the washing up I place four items into the basin each time. When I adjust the sound or the time on a digital device, I always have to settle on an even number (I don't care if this makes my clocks a minute fast: that's just how reckless I am). One of the skills I learned through orienteering as a young child was literally how to pace myself. I would count my steps and know how many steps I walked/ran in 100 metres so, therefore, could work out how far I had travelled on the map, which topographical features I could expect to see around me, and where that elusive control should be. I also know how many strokes it takes me to swim a length of the pool whether I'm doing butterfly, backstroke or front crawl, and I count them to myself to ensure I remain consistent. This is a technique I use whenever things start to get a little too much for me. I love to count - the simple rhythm and predictable pattern is reassuring. I find it interesting that I consider myself a wordsmith, and yet it is numbers that have the power to calm. 

Friday Five: Automobile Personality

Over the past three weeks, as I have caught the bus to work, I have had ample opportunity to gaze out of the windows at Canberra’s cars. I like looking at the stickers people put on their cars, as I find it’s a way in which they identify themselves by declaring their allegiances. By affixing a sticker to a car window, you are displaying your affiliation in much the same way as you might wear a slogan t-shirt.

Similarly, we used to write lyrics and band names on our exercise books at school when we wanted people to notice how cool we were. It was easier than having to articulate it, which we were probably unable to anyway. Some people brand their flesh with tattoos for the same reason. Anyway, a car sticker is a cheaper and less permanent way of telling people what you like without actually having to talk to anyone. This is what I found in Canberra:

5 Car Stickers:

1. A set of Stars Wars stick family transfers - Han Solo and Princess Leia adults with baby Yoda and Chewbacca
2. Husqvarna Racing (on a black Holden ute) and a World Rally Championships
3. Canberra Raiders (rugby league)
4. The Batman symbol
5. Thredbo Ski Resort

I also saw a couple of 'give blood' stickers, but as these were in the Red Cross House carpark, I didn't think they were necessarily representative of society.

So based on my totally non-scientific survey, I would have to conclude that the populace of Canberra are obsessed with vehicles, keen on sports, family orientated and a little bit geeky. You'd hardly have to live here a year to figure that one out...

Friday Five: The First Time

Parents record their children’s achievements all the time. Their first smile; their first steps; their first words… it goes on and lovingly on. And then it stops. At some point they stop remarking on their offspring’s milestones, possibly because they don’t know what they are or when they happened.

No one’s suggesting that you sit down at the kitchen table and discuss the loss of your virginity with mum and dad, but there are some wonderful memorable experiences that deserve wider recognition. The first time you drink champagne deserves an honourable mention. I’m talking about the proper stuff. Bubbles are all very well, but champagne is bliss. There’s no comparison. But it doesn’t make the top five, which are...

5 First Time Experiences:

1. The first time you ‘get’ Shakespeare – chances are it won’t be at school. You’re just aware of him as some bloke that other people appreciate for whatever reason and suddenly it hits you – that poetry; that characterisation; that insight; that freedom with language and plot. For me it was the Triumph Theatre production of Richard II at the Phoenix Theatre in 1988 with Derek Jacobi in the title role. I thought, ‘I want to do that; I want to move people as I have been moved’.
2. The first time you go home after having been away for a long time. Flying back to Heathrow makes me blub like a baby. I haven’t lived in England now for over 16 years, but it’s home. There are so many people and places there that give me a sense of security and comfort while conversely filling me with excitement and anticipation. It just feels like home, and nothing makes you appreciate home more than leaving it.
3. The first time you drive your own car. Whether it’s second-hand or brand new (I assume, having never owned a brand-new vehicle), it gives you a sense of independence and liberty and responsibility all in one. You can go anywhere there is a road and enough petrol. That’s power.
4. The first time you vote. Going into the little booth and marking your voting paper and then posting it in the box – it’s all so civilised and you are part of a democracy that people have fought and died for. It makes me feel proud every time I do it.
5. The first time someone other than your family says ‘I love you.’ Don’t get me wrong, it’s wonderful to hear your family say it, and to say it to them, but if you’re lucky you’ve grown up with that unconditional affection and you probably can’t clearly remember the first time it was said or you said it back. When someone unrelated says it to you and you say it back and you know you both mean it, there may not be a better feeling in the whole world.

A matter of life and death

I don’t know why I read the newspapers sometimes – they just wind me up.
 
Last weekend I read about the moronic behaviour of boy racers in Christchurch. While trying to evade the police, some lowlife hit a power pole and killed his front-seat passenger. He himself suffered serious head and chest injuries and underwent intensive surgery.

A mother in Invercargill resorted to crushing the car in which her 19-year-old son and his two 16-year-old passengers died instantly to prevent his ‘friends’ taking parts as keepsakes. She was understandably upset as she admitted her son was responsible for the deaths – he was drunk, speeding, and driving an unsafe vehicle.

On the next page, there is a story about an Auckland teen fundraising to buy a $217,000 microscope that Middlemore Hospital can’t afford. He needs it for his treatment after he received an electric shock seven years ago that blew his left hand off and ruined his right arm, knee and liver. The 15 year old has had over 40 surgical procedures and multiple skin grafts.

People injured in car ‘accidents’ of their own making are taken to hospital where they face lengthy operations that cost thousands and occupy doctors and nurses for hours – that’s their job; their Hippocratic Oath prevents them from picking whom they care for. They don’t choose who deserves treatment and who should be left on the gurney. I haven’t taken such an oath – I know what my decision would be. I’m just saying...

Driving Forces

People who drive sign-written vehicles can be startling stupid. I ride my bike around the Wakatipu Basin a lot and I see some alarming driving. Many cars (usually 4WDs) cut me up or don’t understand the concept of share the road. I know this is mutual and there are quite a few cyclists who display a reckless disregard for fellow road-users also, but that’s not what this post is about.

Last week I was carved up three times in less than ten minutes in Arrowtown by the same vehicle. Arrogance or ignorance; I’m not sure which is worse, but it certainly motivated this bloke’s attitude to the road. He ended up pulling into his driveway (overtaking me and then turning inches in front of me, causing me to brake heavily) so I know where he lives. If he continues this behaviour, I will let you know where he lives too.

And this is where those with sign-written vehicles come in. It’s all too easy to think you are in your own little bubble when you drive, but your antisocial and unthinking actions affect everyone else in your vicinity. You are blatantly advertising that you don’t give a toss and are reckless, thoughtless and completely inconsiderate. Do you really think anyone would want to do business with you? I’ve witnessed a lot of woeful driving; dangerous overtaking and careless corner-cutting. I won’t mention it here, but I know who you are.

I must also give credit where it’s due – there are some sign-written vehicles in the area who display consistent courtesy and I would certainly recommend their business to anyone who requires their services. Among the more noticeable champions of the road are Nomad Safaris, Otago Southland Waste Services, Addstaff and Ministry of Works.

Of course, not everyone wants you to know who they are. Once, Him Outdoors was racing around the Lake District when a car pulled out sharply in front of him forcing him to slam on the brakes and take evasive action. He waited until the driver was looking his rear view mirror then flashed a rude signal and mouthed obscenities very clearly, which the other driver couldn’t help but lip-read.

The flashing blue lights popped up and Him Outdoors was reluctantly pulled over by the unmarked police car. After trading ‘You shouldn’t have pulled out like that’ and “It wouldn’t have been a problem if you weren’t speeding’, the policeman allowed that he had another pressing call to attend and that Him Outdoors was lucky to be let off without a fine. His parting shot was, ‘Just watch who you call a f*&%ing t#%t in future, sir.’ Which goes to prove, you can never be too careful on the road – someone is indeed always watching.

Little Michael

I bought a car a couple of weeks ago, which made me feel terribly grown up. I took it for a test drive with the dealer and had to make knowledgable conversation about revs and miles per gallon (except he called it kilometres per litre, which was a totally different figure, but I nodded sagely nonetheless as though I knew what he meant).

I kept the car overnight and drove it along some winding back roads with hills and single lane bridges. I thought this might help me experiment with the acceleration, the suspension, and the torque (thanks Top Gear). It's a manual so I get to change gears when I choose, not when the engine feels like it, and the brakes are solid and secure without being either too spongy or sensitive.

It's got a good stereo and the CD player works. I tuned to Radio New Zealand National and popped in a Minuit album. When I turn the music and voices off the car is quiet -there are no rattles and knocks or other noises to pretend to ignore. It fits nicely in my garage. It's not white or silver and it's not a Subaru Legacy (these were definite no-nos on my anti-wish list).

So I took it down the lake, where I experimented with some Top Gear style photography - these are the results. I realise I still have a long way to go, but I think we can agree that it looks pretty damn stylish on the shores of Lake Wakatipu, can we not?

As we all know, every car needs a name, so I've called this little beauty Michael. It's small and perfectly formed with great acceleration and a tight turning circle, but it's the wrong red. Am I still grown up?