:: Diary - June 2026 ::

:: Monday, 1 June 2026 ::

Right, back to the Vixen and this fuel tank sender. First I tighten down all the screws, to finally compress the gasket and sealer.

Then I refill the tank, right to the top. It leaks around the nearside edge of the sender...

Nip up the screws a wee bit more... one of them is turning but not tightening fully, so I remove it, and measure it as a 4.1mm self-tapper. I dig out a slightly thicker self-tapper (4.75mm), put some sealer on the threads, and wind that in. Then I refill it to the top of the filler neck.

No leak! Yay! I leave it for 5 or 10 minutes, just to check that there's no slow leak, and then syphon some fuel out of it again to give the seal more time to dry out. It's raining outside so I'll leave any test drive for now, but I think it's sorted. If it's not leaking when it's immersed in fuel, it's not going to leak if it's just splashing up. It's definitely better than it was.

I replace the boot floor and then the boot lining. I can still lift the carpet to check the sender if I have to.

The gitcave is honking of petrol though, what with all this leakery and fucking-aboutery with syphons and jerrycans and funnels and spillages etc, so I leave both doors of the gitcave open for a while to help the fuel smell evaporate a bit. You can't diagnose a fuel leak in a car that already stinks of fuel! So there's a wee glimpse into where all this shit happens.

Time to start planning our trip to Wedgefest in a couple of weeks!

:: Friday, 5 June 2026 ::

Not much to report but... I took the Vixen out for a very short run on Wednesday, with lots of corners, and found that the sender was still leaking, ever so slightly, around one of the screws. It really was just the slightest "sweat" around one screw, although you could barely smell it. I put around 3ml of permatex in a syringe, took the screw out and injected a tiny blob of Permatex into the top of the thread, and replaced with a new screw. Then I decided to use up the rest of the permatex in the syringe, by injecting a tiny bead around the edge of the sender, and rubbing it in with a cotton bud.

I got a chance to take the car out and fling it around a bit, with the windows closed. No fuel smell, no sign of any fuel leak, I hope that's it sorted! It's certainly a lot better than it was...

Also on Wednesday, I went to visit Hugh, around 60 miles away. He tripped over some stuff lying on his garage floor a couple of weeks ago, while he was trying to replace the driver's door on his S. He landed on a random bit of wood and cracked his ribs... Health and Safety, boys and girls, tripping over shit is no fun (and even less fun when you get older and your bones turn to papier mache).

What else? Oh yes, at my birthday bash on Saturday, one of my former work colleagues gave me a book "TVR - The Early Years" by Peter Filby. I've been reading that over the week, while looking out at rain battering off the windows, and it's really very interesting. It only goes up to 1965, when Martin Lilley bought the company, but covers the early "specials", the Granturas, the Griffiths and the ill-fated Trident. Some interesting stories, and examples of good management and bad management, combined with trusting the wrong people, and sheer bad luck, such as increased tariffs in Canada and US dock strikes at exactly the worst time.

I've just ordered Volume 2 which covers the Lilley years!

:: Sunday, 7 June 2026 ::

The TVRCC Sprint magazine arrived on Friday, with a good write-up of the event at Grimsthorpe that we attended in May.

It includes this photo of (most of) the Scottish contingent parked in front of the house. Unfortunately, John's car is just out of the photo on the right, and we have an interloper yellow Chimaera on the left.

There's another photo of my Vixen with the white one (that I already posted last month) and a few more photos with our cars in (at longer range).

So today, it's our local TVR Car Club day. Dave is back, so we meet up with Eric for the run through. I'm taking the Vixen just as a further check on fuel tank sealing, and also because I took the S last month, so it's the Vixen's turn.

Eric and I are treated to a demonstration of Dave's radio controlled car collection. It's very interesting, fair enough, but time is marching on...

Because it's dry, we decide to have a wee run, rather than go directly. That doesn't last long though, as it's bucketing down by the time we're 20 minutes up the road. As we drive through, I start to ponder on what special event or announcement will take place at today's meeting. Perhaps a show to attend? A wee club tour for a day or two? Maybe a barbecue? Perhaps a guest speaker? I have a fair idea what the answer to those questions will be...

We get held up by the weather, dawdly tourists, and roadworks, so we arrive about 20 minutes after everybody else. They have all had their dinner orders taken, and are served before they take our orders. We talk about Hugh's car, Dave's wedge wheels, some Kirkliston gossip, my birthday last week, Dave's radio controlled cars, leaky petrol tanks, and various other shit, until my dinner arrives. Then Eric's. The focus of the discussion then shifts imperceptibly to where the fuck Dave's dinner is. It eventually arrives after we have all finished.

We also endure a lengthy request for advice on Tamora driveshafts. Any advice appears to go unheard...

Then it's time for home... Dave leading, then Eric then me. I have earplugs in, but one of them is falling apart. When I take them out, it sounds as if the exhaust is blowing again...

Another wee stop for a photo opportunity, then when i get home, I have a quick look underneath. It looks as if that welded silencer crack is leaking again...

On the plus side - no fuel smells!

:: Monday, 8 June 2026 ::

Spent far too much of the day under the Vixen, pulling this exhaust off to fix this silencer crack. I can see that the two hanger bolts just behind the silencer are scraped, and I do remember the exhaust bottoming out twice on our wee run to the club meeting yesterday. I also now remember another clonk when I pulled into a layby earlier this week to check the sender for leaking. I suspect that's what has cracked the weld (that plus the fact that it probably wasn't a great weld in the first place).

So, I grind back most of that old weld, and clean it all up. There's a couple of bits where the old weld just flies off - no penetration...

I tack it back together with a slightly lower wire speed and lower amperage setting, but moving the torch slower to melt the wire into the crack. That seems to be much better - proper "blueing" around the weld and a better looking finish.

I put the exhaust back on the car, and it seems to be fine - but that welded crack is right where the exhaust will ground, so is susceptible to further damage. The seam at the front of the silencer is bent back (but not split) and the rear pipe has already been welded once. It's only mild steel, not stainless (apart from the manifold) and I think it's fair to describe it as "just about fucked".

I can't find a single photo of a standard Vixen exhaust system on-line, so I don't even know if mine is standard. I have a receipt that shows that it was fitted by David Gerald Sportscars in 2001, but there's no part numbers or any other information.

The S-Series has a huge amount of information available on-line, along with an "alternative parts list" that tells you the origin of most of the parts - for example Saab top balljoints, Fiat bottom ones, etc. There's nothing for the Vixen, except for a rare, almost mythical, very old typed list of original parts. This list is treated like the Dead Sea Scrolls, or the Enigma master code book, and only mentioned between the high priests of classic TVRs - not for the peasants like me.

Except I've got one of those lists, among the papers that came with the car...

It says that this centre exhaust section is from a Triumph TR3A. I look that up - you can buy them from the Triumph specialists like Rimmer Bros or Moss Europe, and it does look exactly the same. I can't get exact dimensions though, to compare with the measurements of mine, and there are two different sizes of silencer, although the ones for sale don't tell you which size they are. The bigger one might not fit between the chassis rails, or might foul the hand brake, or might be a different length, so there's a risk that it might need some butchery of the existing system...

Option A - buy a TR3 centre box, see if it fits.

Option B - When I had the Cerbera, I had the exhaust repaired (and partly replaced) in 2011, by a friend of my son, who had his own business making and fitting custom-built stainless steel exhausts from scratch. His work was very good, and I've got his details again, so I think I might ask him about either a proper repair to the system I have, or a new stainless system that might fit a bit better, possibly with a bit more ground clearance.

Oh, there's also Option C - leave it alone and see how long it lasts.

Fuck it, you have to spend your millions somewhere, eh?

:: Wednesday, 17 June 2026 ::

I've been faffing around getting the Vixen ready for Wedgefest near Leamington Spa this coming weekend - a bit of cleaning mainly...

First though - exhaust progress. None. I settled for option C - do nothing and see how it goes. I don't think the TR3 one will fit - it seems to have a longer silencer, which I think would foul on the handbrake lever mechanism. I didn't have time to order one anyway, and then fit it, before this weekend, so that made the decision for me.

I did find that the exhaust was touching the chassis just behind the silencer, so I had to lower it slightly, then bend the rear mounting slightly to suit.

I measured ground clearance under the exhaust with a bit of 4 x 2 wood - the clearance is three and a quarter inches under the silencer and under the rear pipe, and that's without a kit bag, a tool bag, and my fat arse sitting over the back axle. The clearance in normal use will be slightly (erm, significantly) less... The clearance under the sump is exactly the same - so if the sump hits anything that height, the exhaust will be the least of my worries...

I also filled the fuel tank, and there's no sign of a leak at the sender, and no fuel smell inside the car. This bodes well!

So - car ready, route planned, troops on standby.

:: Friday, 19 June 2026 ::

Well, the "leave the exhaust alone and see how long it lasts" conundrum has been solved. The answer is "not very long at all" - but more of that later...

We meet up at services around the Edinburgh City Bypass, to avoid the traffic melee that surrounds the Royal Highland Show near our normal muster point - although as it turns out, the traffic wasn't as busy as it usually is. We're soon on our way, only 5 minutes after our agreed departure time.

We travel round the rest of the bypass, then on to the A1 and down to our breakfast stop at Purdy Lodge, with a quick fuel top-up a few miles before, just to ensure that we don't end up paying motorway service prices further down the road.

Now, Purdy Lodge has many virtues. Good food isn't one of them. Neither is fast service. Or friendly service. Or even noticing that you're standing at the counter like a spare whats-it for ages while they completely ignore you. In fact, it's only real saving graces are that it's on our route, and there's nothing else for miles.

As I turn from the soft drinks fridge, I thump the top of my leg on the tray-shelf along the front of the counter. It hurts, but not badly.

So, on we go - next stop Wetherby. Eric sets off before I'm quite ready, but I follow anyway. After about half an hour, the weather improves drastically, and I'm absolutely sweltering. I try adjusting the heating, but moving the knob seems to make absolutely no difference to the temperature or direction of the air entering the cabin. I'm not waiting until Newcastle this time, so I manage to release one arm from the full-harness seatbelt to open the passenger side window.

First bit of news - no fuel smells even with a full tank on corners!

Second bit of news - I can hear that exhaust rrrrrrrrrasp again, so the split is obviously opening up...

When we reach Wetherby, the exhaust is now blowing really noticeably. I stop the car and go to get out, but I can't move my leg - I have to lift my knee back with my hands, to get my foot out of the door. Then it takes ages just to stand up straight. That wee thump on the leg is now killing me!

We set off again, me in the lead this time. After aa few miles, the satnav says "60 minutes delay on your route - choose alternative", so I do. That ends up taking us through Pontefract, where the traffic is stationary for ages. Just as we leave the queue behind, Bobby phones - he's had to stop because the car was overheating. Eric and I turn and go back to find him.

Eric's car is also running hot, and he says it has a misfire, mine has an exhaust with virtually no silencing at all, so it's a complete TVR experience!

After "a bit" we're on our way again, back to re-join the A1(M) where we soon encouter another queue. Boily-boily. Eric and Bobby stop again, we wait for them in a services just down the road. After some, erm, "running adjustments", we are eventually on our way again... We eventually arrive at the venue at 7:30 pm. That's 10 and a half hours (including face-feeding stops) to travel around 360 miles. Fast sports cars, eh?

After dinner, we go out to the car park, and discover a merry party already under way. I stand and watch this merriment for a bit, chat to a few people who wander near, and then head back in to watch the football (I wish I hadn't bothered, but that's another story).

:: Saturday, 20 June 2026 ::

Today, the group are going to the Coventry Transport Museum - assemble at 9.30 for depart at 10.

After breakfast, we find this lovely Alvis in the car park. The owner is on his way to an Alvis convention. It's lovely!

Most of the Wedges haven't woken up yet. Eric is under the bonnet, looking for this misfire, but the engine sounds as though it's running perfectly.

This lovely SEAC is parked in front of me.

Although I still think that the Vixen is the prettiest car here!

So we set off in convoy to the Transport Museum. The "convoy" lasts around 5 minutes until the leaders piss off into the distance. The rest of us find a way along a route that seems to be confirmed by my satnav. We have private parking at the rear of the museum and our second group arrives before the leading group, who got lost. Tee hee.

We're at the museum for hours, because it's a really good journey from the beginings of transport (wooden hobby horses etc) up to the very recent land speed records - what was it, 763 mph? Still not as fast as a TVR Wedge on the M18, obviously...

Anyway, too many things to see, and not enough photos. Just a few comments:

We had a teacher at school who had one of these Armstrong-Siddelys in the 1960s. And through most of the 1970s. Stuck out a bit among the Ford Escorts and Morris Marinas etc in the rest of the car park.

My dad drove one of these Humber staff cars, just like this, all over the Western desert during the war. This was a welcome change from driving tanks and lorries and diving for shelter when you heard a Stuka dive bomber heading downwards in your direction.

Meanwhile, Bobby is trying out alternative means of transport home, should the boily-boily situation get any worse.

After all this limping around, this just about summarises how I feel.

Then it's time to head back to the hotel. Before we leave, I hear one member ask another if they are going back to the hotel first, before they all go on somewhere else. Nobody has mentioned that to us...

Because we're parked in 2 rows, I have to leave in the first group so that the ones at the back can get out. We head out of Coventry and onto the motorway, where I'm in the middle of a line of Wedges. Then one batters past and cuts in, between me and the car in front. So you ease back a bit to leave a sensible (but still short) braking distance. Then another one pushes in. Then another... and so on until I'm at the back. I know my place (or at least, I've just learned it).

I hang around a bit to see if anybody mentions the afternoon excursion to come. Nobody does, so I retire to the hotel terrace with a wee drink and a bit of peace. Eventually the Scottish contingent join me, and then a few Wedge owners who haven't gone out again.

Mark has organised a group dinner in a private room, where we are joined by a group of Dutch Wedge owners, and over-enthusiasts. Dinner is very nice, and then we are treated to the Dutch showing videos of "enthusiastic" driving up and down bits of road and around car parks. Then I realise that the room is half-empty, and someone mentions that the party is continuing out in the car park. By the time I go out, I'm too late to see the Dutch hooning around the car park, until the hotel staff ask them to stop. We hang around and chat for a bit, and then I go back inside when I think that things are quietening down.

I was wrong. The Dutch resume their wheelspinny donut nonsense after midnight. There are apparently videos but I'm not wasting webspace on that pish. I pay enough to tell you my own pish.

:: Sunday, 21 June 2026 ::

It's time to head for home... By this time, my leg is so sore that I can hardly get into the car... First, we head 5 minutes up the road for fuel. I fill the tank until the pump clicks, and go in and pay. Then I realise that I only put in just over 26 litres, or just under 6 gallons. That's around 180 to 200 miles, although I already had some fuel left over from the journey down. I'm going to have to stop again though, before I get home.

Back on the motorway, where we have a couple of hours to observe the shitieness of normal motorway driving. People without a single bleeding clue, with last minute lane changes, dangerous high-sped slip road merges, and generally being dickheads. My exhaust has now given up entirely, and sounds as if it's hanging wide open. I can't get down to the floor (or more importantly, wouldn't be able to get up again) to have a look.

We stop first at Wetherby, and then on to the A68 Cafe near Tow Law on the A68 for a wee lunchtime sandwich, where we learn from Facebook that a convoy of Dutch-registered TVRs have been seen chucking litter out of their moving cars. They are the same cars as we saw last night. Arseholes.

A few miles after the cafe, we stop for a wee fuel fill-up - they don't have E5 fuel, so I put in just enough E10 to get home (according to John's NASA-scale calculation of distance to be covered, approximate fuel consumption, wind factor etc). My own mental calculation has already concluded "that's plenty".

Another hop to Jedburgh, and then home. I arrive back at the house with an exhaust that sounds like Concorde on full afterburn, and luggage that doesn't stink of petrol. Result!

That's exactly 700 miles over the weekend, and apart from the exhaust racket, the car has again behaved perfectly.

My behaviour has perhaps not been so perfect but not as bad as some.

It takes a lot of work to organise something like this, and Mark has done a great job. It's just a pity that events can be spoiled (and perhaps made more difficult to organise in future) by a few knobheads. That, unfortunately, is life.

:: Tuesday, 23 June 2026 ::

Knackered knee news! Although I bumped my leg at the top (compressing a bunch of keys that were in my pocket, into my leg), it's my knee that has come up all bruised. The sore bit is more than a foot from the bruised bit. That doesn't sound good...

Exhausted exhaust news! I lift the car to have a look at this exhaust.

The crack has opened up ever so slightly, so there's now a whole chunk of silencer missing. I don't think I'll be welding that back together any time soon... I have a receipt that shows that this mild steel exhaust was fitted in 2001, so I suppose 25 years isn't too bad. Or should I take it back under warranty?

You can also see that the gearbox rear oil seal is leaking - I only replaced that a year ago, but it obviously needs done again.

Time to do some ski-ing - that's "Spending the Kids Inheritance". I asked about getting a system made to fit better into the chassis (or at least, closer to it than the current one), to improve ground clearance at the back. The guy hasn't got back to me. I'm not desperate enough to force someone to do work that they can't be arsed to do, so that's that.

The current plan, then, is to buy a "Vixen Exhaust" and then fit it myself, but take time to get it fitting just right. If it needs to be modified, I'll deal with that at the time.

If the exhaust is on back-order and I have to wait for it, I'll swap the diff at the same time.

Ooooh here's another thought! What if the Vixen's suspension has dropped, so that the chassis is too close to the ground? The suspension on the car isn't adjustable and new shocks / springs would cost hunners of spondoolicks.

The spec sheets say that ground clearance should be five and a half inches to the underside of the chassis. A wee check on Pistonheads seems to confirm the same. I measure mine at 140mm - pretty much bang-on. New suspension not required, I hope!

:: Thursday, 25 June 2026 ::

Phoned up yesterday at 10.30am to ask about a new exhaust. It turns out that he has one on the sheelf, that he bought for a car that he's restoring, but he's a long way yet from fitting the exhaust. By 11.00 he's showing it on the floor in a video call, and by 12.00 it's boxed up and waiting for UPS to collect it.

It arrives at my house at 12.00 today, and I unbox it and set it all out again. I realise now that I have the big silencer back-to-front here, but you get the idea. My exhaust only has one silencer, but this one comes with two, plus a wee bit of pipe if you want to miss out the rear silencer. It also has a little upward kink bit in the middle, that lets you get the silencers further up between the chassis rails for slightly better ground clearance.

I've also ordered a gearbox rear oil seal, so I'll do that at the same time as the exhaust.

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