BPH 106H
SM106
Restoration 2023B

Time for a clean, new page to celebrate a surprising turn of events! My retirement was planned for September, coinciding with the traditional 'Summer' holiday, but the planets refused to line-up prettily and instead I started my retirement rather earlier, on 1st June, and coinciding with a week's boat holiday on the canals of Stafforshire and Shropshire with the younger part of the family. What goes around, comes around, I suppose, but it was a huge success, and seems likely to be repeated. However, not going to work any more means that other projects can move to the front of the queue - like mending buses. Unrelenting hot sunshine has made the bus garage untenable, so I have been earning brownie points doing other things instead. One little job on a back-burner was grit-blasting the last two untreated Swift wheel-rims, and they look much better - even in a coat of primer that looks a bit like Bullock Maroon! I also indulged myself with a weekend away at Transport Museum Wythall for their London Bus Event, largely on the basis that I would meet Keith, Tim H, RF539 and BL88 in one place. What I was not expecting is that I would also meet Steve Fennell as well! Despite riding unwittingly on his latest RF aquisition, and not seeing him among its passengers, I did recognise him when we disembarked for photos at Alcester Lanes End. That Tim Clayton and Paul Morris were there should also be recorded. Later, on the fish & chip tour we decided that no more populous meeting of Swift and Merlin owners has been convened for many a long year. The icing on the cake was the experience of riding on BCT 486, the 1931 AEC Regent with its petrol engine and proper 'stick' gearbox. I can hardly describe the sights, the sounds, the ambience of that trip, but the perfectly-synchronised back-fire as Mr. Handford, our able driver, double de-clutched to take second gear descending to the old Horse & Jockey was sublime. Finally, I have to say that the Wythall Miniature Railway was also a delight, with its fabulous model Hunslet locomotives chuffing sedately around. A fine museum and a fabulous collection.


You wait 6 weeks for an RF and two come along at once!
Photo © J.Wilkins

Birmingham 486, a 1931 AEC Regent.
Photo © J.Wilkins

Working-out a schedule and what to work at next is the immediate problem, but my guess is that sub-contracting the DPA injection pump is a high priority to get some parallel activity under way. Meanwhile, getting to grips with the bus was indicated, and a cooler day with other non-bus tasks in abeyance saw the start of a 9 'til 5 session with a number of jobs progressing. A priority was the application of some paint, since very little has found its way to the bus so far this year. First-off was a coat of undercoat to the inside of the two wheel rims that were grit-blasted recently. Next, tidying, masking and applying etch-primer to the entrance door header was fun now that the memory of all the rubbing-down has faded. While that was drying, I set about plugging the remaining holes for fitting the gutter moulding at the rear end, having abandoned the task due to running-out of dowelling! After lunch, the primer was ready for a magnolia undercoat, and it was duly applied. The smell of paint inside the bus was intense because the entrance doors had to be closed so that they didn't get in the way. It was the following day before my overloaded sense of smell was re-calibrated! For the final act, I removed the two damaged injection pipes. Examination showed a curious feature: one had a smooth, abraded patch, while the other was both abraded and notched. If the damage was due to a loose linkage rattling about on the pipes, it could not have made a notch, I am sure. Is there a hint of sabotage there? Did someone attempt to induce a failure that would bring SM106's active life to a close? Very odd, to be sure. After that whirlwind of activity, I was only fit to go home.


Etch primer applied to the entrance header
Photo © J.Wilkins

Drilling and plugging the gutter fixing holes.
Photo © J.Wilkins

I am still puzzled by the gutter-fixing problem. When drilling the wood using the countersunk holes in the top of the gutter moulding as a template, only rubbish and rusty gunk was produced, which implies that I was finding the remains of corroded screws. BUT, the holes in the gutter moulding do NOT line up with the old holes in the bottom edge of the dome. To be sure, I have a new flashing installed, which has no fixing holes yet, but why do the dome holes and the gutter holes not line up? All very odd, and the end result is a gap of about 3/8" between the ends of the n/s and o/s gutter mouldings. I may live to regret it, but for now I shall install the gutters with the gap and make an adaptor piece to close it off in due course. This is a job that is preventing the effective completion of the bodywork, so a way WILL be found!


PRV original and Late Custard shades on the nest-box flaps,
interior and exterior sides juxtaposed.

Photo © J.Wilkins

Gloss paint on the entrance header.
Photo © J.Wilkins

My retirement appears to be good for buses and their restoration. The solstice was celebrated in a couple of unusual and significant ways. For a start, I have never in the history of my restoration of SM106 worked three full, consecutive days at the garage. This means that at the start of this week I had clean metal for an entrance header flap, but after three sessions it has received etch-primer, two undercoats and one top-coat. As usual, for the sake of efficiency, the roller had to be used as widely as possible once it was loaded with paint, but on this occasion it was used on two days after careful wrapping in a polythene bag. That was good, because rollers are not only expensive, but hold a lot of unrecoverable paint. However, the first job was to put etch-primer on the gutter moulding, a job initiated the previous day by masking-off the paintwork underneath it. I have never tried brushing the etch-primer, but the long, narrow and intricate profile ruled-out a roller or sponge, but it went well as it was quite runny with the activator, but flashed-off quickly and didn't dribble too much. I have also done a lot of rubbing-down - of the first gloss coat on the exit header area and the central panel of the ceiling, which is adjacent to the doorway 'cove' panel and makes a nice patch of shiny real-estate. The magnolia gloss seems to dry quite fast, and it didn't go on brilliantly the first time. So, when the third-day dawned cool and overcast, I knew it the ideal time for a reasonable finish, and I was very happy with the outcome. I thinned the paint a bit more, which also helped, but it is quite arduous rolling-out and laying-off at top speed for an hour and a half at above head height. After lunch and a peaceful cup of tea I was psychologically and physically fit to pick up another brush, and applied green undercoat over the primer on the gutter. And that, dear Reader, was cause for the second celebration, because it was the very last part of the entire body of SM106 to receive the green paint it deserved! I reckon she was painted in the Deeble colours in 1979, so that is 44 years since she has had green everywhere it belonged (yes I know it's only undercoat, but it IS GREEN). "So it goes", as Kurt is wont to say. In order to make the job of painting the entrance header a bit simpler, I had unscrewed the nest-box flaps. Preparing and painting them will also be much easier that way, ditto the destination blind header. What it did illustrate was the difference between the Park Royal Original Cream (left, above) and Late Custard colours. I just use British Standard BS08B15 Magnolia because "Magnolia" is called-up in the parts list, it looks right and is much cheaper than matching shades, if you could even find a good sample. The Swifts did not last very long on our 303 service, being replaced by MB quite quickly, and I never saw inside one that had been overhauled and re-certified. However, I did see MB type vehicles that had been through the works, and they had a bright white ceiling which contrasted strongly with the original, 'yellowish' colour of the blind-box headers. What a lazy job!


Re-instated gutter mouldings over the emergency exit.
Photo © J.Wilkins

Green undercoat on the wheel rims.
Photo © J.Wilkins

The next session saw the gutter fixed back into place with sealing mastic. A couple more plugs needed replacement, but with a long piece of dowel in stock that was no great hold-up. Until this point, only the upper line of screws received attention, because that located the gutter properly, but to complete the job it was necessary to put in the lower screws as well. New wood is in place at that level, so there were no old holes to block-up, but on the other hand there was no hole for a screw through the 'drip-strip' or the window surround panel, so they had to be drilled at clearance size, then pilot size. I tend to do that sort of thing progressively, rather than drill all one size in one go, so there was a lot of bit-changing. Putting the screws in was a sheer joy, however, which was good because the day's total was 42 plus two rivets. Anything over 30 is fine progress, but with luck I shall not have to do any more of them! Way back at the start of this adventure I bought four boxes of stainless, raised-csk screws, and they have been very useful elsewhere - not least on my canoe, where I was forced to replace the whole set which hold the wooden gunwale strips in place to sandwich the GRP. The person who made the kit had used screws just too short, and the whole gunwale unzipped in a progressive failure while I was paddling down Llyn Padarn a couple of years ago! With the screws and mastic in place, a second undercoat was applied, and with the brush in green I did the inside of the wheel-rims as well, so that was a good day and an efficient use of paint. The next session was principally concerned with preparation for a top-coat for all of the rear above the livery line, so there was rubbing-down of the rear quarter panels and dome as well as the narrow strips which surround the rear window. While that was drying-off, the "WAY OUT" legend was applied to the exit header flap, and the flying-saucer was fixed in place together its "TURN TAP etc" lettering. I now looks very neat and proper, but visibly short of a tap to turn! We are working on that, obviously. After lunch a new batch of green undercoat was mixed, filtered and applied to the rear dome and areas noted above. The dome was never well-finished previously, so it will do no harm to build-up the paint and have a proper go at it again. The other area to receive green paint were the wheel rims, which will benefit from a good thickness.


Almost completed: the exit door header
Photo © J Wilkins

The other news is that I made a long distance trip in Tuppence the Clio, in horrendous rain and spray up the M6 to Walton Summit and deliver the DPA injection pump for service, and then through less rainy Lancashire to Blackburn to drop off the damaged injection pipes for replication. On the return trip I stopped by the canalside at Preston Brook for a cup of tea and a leg-stretch, and a visit to Midland Chandlers for new nuts and olives for the fuel filter/sedimenter, which will save a few pounds in carriage costs (disproportionate for such a trivial package). Luckily the sun had returned by that stage, so it was a very pleasant interlude, but disturbed by exactly zero boats. Where is everyone? Preston Brook should be a busy node on the network! And, finally, as if the day had not been exciting enough, an Arriva Sapphire double-decker has just stopped outside my house, which is in the sort of residential street which does not see buses, particularly Enviro 400 'deckers which belong on the number 12 route! Enquiries of the driver found that he had a drunken passenger, whom the police and ambulance service had declined to assist in any way when found lying in a Llandudno street. The driver was trying to find his house, which is lower down our road, and was very grateful for directions. Well done for taking up that customer-care challenge, and I hope everybody arrived home safely. Navigating any vehicle around our bends and parked vehicles can be a challenge at times, so hats-off all round!

I was amazed when I was contacted to say that the new injection pipes were ready after just a couple of days, so they were paid-for and sent off by carrier during the same week. Good progress, but the critical test will be the 'fit'. The other task that week was rubbing-down the yellow livery stripe on the driver's side, and then giving it a new coat of Canary Yellow gloss. The undercoat was a bit lumpy, so it won't look particularly good, but at least it is has no obvious dribbles and is generally improved. To economise on yellow paint, which is now running low, I did the whole job with a brush, and found that it worked better than a roller, with less tendency for a build-up under the mouldings. The other problem is that the driver's side is not well-illuminated, nor easy of access as it is against the wall. In comparison, the nearside was a doddle! Unfortunately, the vehicle is not easily mobile, or I'd try and turn her around. The mobility is of course affected by having no functioning engine, and news received regarding the DPA injection pump has not been encouraging. Apart from significant wear, fuel contaminated with water has been standing in the pump for so long that there is also corrosion and pitting. Replacement parts are available, and it can be reconditioned, but it will NOT be cheap. More on this topic later, I am sure!


From our German correspondent: a Citaro G in Berlin.
Photo © David Wilkins

The refreshed fuel pump, fitted after a struggle.
Photo © J Wilkins

Some few days later, when nicely hardened, the yellow-painted area was masked off and the surround to the driver's side, 'upstairs' windows rubbed down gently and given a nice, fresh undercoat. It all went on smoothly by brushing, again, and for an encore the last undercoat was applied to the wheel rims. The day of the Lincoln Green gloss is drawing near! I could not resist publishing the Berlin image which arrived at breakfast time. Clearly my peripatetic son has been paying attention when on our foreign travels, as he took the trouble to capture the image AND choose the bus type correctly. It also fits the colour theme quite nicely, as it is almost Canary Yellow! A start towards the re-installation of the fuel-injection pump has been made by cleaning-off the top of the engine, so that it is a bit less like the Black Hole of Calcutta. I had a go at the spare engine first, to familiarise myself with the geography and obstacles, since visibility, illumination and access is much worse through the floor-trap and under the nearside chassis member. The spare was encrusted with a thick, almost solid layer of fine 'tarmac', which came off quite cleanly, while that of SM106 was much less thick and softened by the recent, copious spillage of fuel oil. In the end it was mostly brushed away with de-greaser and the area cleaned-up with an absorbent rag, ready for a coat of red primer another day. Finally, it looked as if the day was not going to develop disastrous, hot sunshine and it was time for the green paint to flow, which it almost did, but once again I was disappointed with the properties of the paint. I suspected that something was amiss when I did the front dash late last summer, but this time there was no varnish involved, and the paint was again sticky and intractable, and not what I am used to after 40 years of using HMG 1K Fleet Poly. The other, recent event of note has been the return of my fuel injection pump from the specialists, and I must say I was expecting a much longer turn-round than they have achieved. It looks absolutely fabulous in its clean, re-manufactured condition. If it works as well as it looks we should really go places! I had a long correspondence with HMG, and established that 1K Fleet Poly is not what it was, and is no longer formulated for brushing. They recommended their 'slow' thinners as a remedy, and I have little option but to give it a go, since I have a significant investment in green paint and there is no more to be had. A morning was spent rubbing down the first gloss coat around the rear and o/s upstairs, but by lunch time the sun had decided to shine in earnest and painting was abandoned for that day. A bit like the Ashes contest, but Sun stops play for a change. "So it goes", as Kurt would say. Plenty to play at, mind! On with the fuel pump, but with first a play at fitting it to the spare engine. No problem at all, as the rotor can be turned by finger pressure now, but it took more than three hours of back-breaking toil down the engine hole before it slid neatly into its proper home. Why so much trouble? The slotted pump-base is held by three studs onto the end of the compressor/lift-pump assembly, which gives the fine timing adjustment, but even if the 'master' spline is properly positioned, there is some difficulty in aligning the pump shaft with the drive coupling (which doubles as the lift-pump eccentric). Basically, it is all too floppy and if you are bent double reaching under the rear seat to get at the job it is much more difficult than when the engine is at waist-height in the open air. I had to go back to the spare engine and try some more practice, but simulating a failure to engage the splines rather than a direct 'hole-in-one' fitment. Returning to SM106 I gave it one last try, and felt the splines bite. After a gentle wiggle, I was rewarded with the drive shaft pushing home and the body sitting down prettily on the studs. Phew!


The back of the bus looking the way one should.
Photo © J Wilkins

Feedback for HMG - self-portrait in fresh paint.
Photo © J Wilkins

Bearing in mind the advice from HMG's Quality Analyst, I decided that the weather on the morning before the arrival of a weather front could prove to be more or less ideal for another go at the painting of the rear end. With the rubbing-down and masking already complete it was just a case of checking the local weather forecast (head out of garage, look at sky, plenty of high cloud) and inside temperature (is the bus roof warm to the touch) and decant/filter some paint. Addition of about 15% 'slow' Thinners 2612 and a thorough stir was the first step, wet the brush with thinner, then up on the scaffolding and paint the rear dome, which because of the roof-heating problem is always the most sensitive area. It went on beautifully, I thought. In fairness, the well-prepared surface should present no particular problem; it was applied over a previous top-coat and a lot of the area was fairly flat on the top of the number-blind box. Thereafter, it was a case of careful focus and not stopping for an instant longer than necessary. The rear quarter-panels came up really well, but they are a good area to work quickly at, whereas the 'upstairs' windows surround is "absolute horror-show" as Alex and his droogs would say. Hardly any of that area is much wider than the brush and the three lines of horizontal moulding are a real challenge, continually breaking the flow of a stroke. Rule 1 of coach-painting is to avoid laying-off horizontally, because that encourages sags to form. Remarkably, the fast 'tacking' of this paint actually helped, because (so long as the right amount of paint was applied) a single horizontal stroke would finish really smoothly. Adapting technique to the media is how Michelangelo would describe it. After 2 hours I was finished (in both senses), but the surface was good enough to obtain a wide-angle image of the rear of my garage as feedback for HMG! Collapsing into my armchair for lunch coincided with the first rattle of rain on the roof. Thereafter it increased in intensity for a period of hours - glad I wasn't stuck in the car park at the Royal Welsh Show! The garage roof (uninsulated) gives emphasis to weather conditions, and the thermal expansion and contraction with passing clouds and hot, sunny intervals is marked by all sorts of creaks and bangs. The roof of SM106 'pops' as it heats and cools, too! After lunch it was back down the engine-hole to tighten the three securing nuts down on the injection pump. The lower one was a bit of a faff, which was why it was missing when I removed the pump, I am sure! Two hands required, one to apply torque and the other to guide/locate the ring-end of the combination spanner as it was inched around, one spline at a time. Eventually we were ready to set the pump body on its fine, new mark and after about an hour in total it was nipped-up tightly in the right place. When I discovered that I could not then reach a spanner onto the fuel return-pipe union on the pump because it would foul the lift-pump, I was so disgusted that I just went home. Enough was enough for one day!

Well, we have to bite the bullet eventually, so after a suitable delay to build-up mental energy, I went back to the problem and removed the pump, fitted the return pipe and re-fitted the pump. This time, I was also able to attach the jumper pipes to the manifold, so on paper at least, we were on track to supply diesel through the lift pump and see the outcome. Not that I did, mind! During the latest pump-fitting exercise, I made a curious discovery: I could not even turn the bottom nut by one spanner-flat at a time UNLESS I rotated the pump fully anticlockwise on its mounting - I was just lucky the first time! All this had me thinking, in particular that it is the lift-pump housing which determines the position of the fuel pump, and my compressor is sticking-up in the air. On the spare engine (SMS637) the compressor is lying-down snugly, but if it was simply rotated by 60 degrees the injection pump, would be in the wrong orientation because it fits on three studs. It occurs to me that my engine is actually a VERTICAL AV505 made to lie horizontally. Knowing that does not solve my immediate problem, which is the state of the injection pipes. The old ones are dubious, my spares are worse and the new ones don't fit. Boo-hoo! Time to do something else to regain my sanity....fit one of the windows into a newly-painted aperture. I chose the narrow, fixed light in bay 4 adjacent to the emergency exit door because I needed a practise session on a simple one first. I also reviewed the state of my coils of weatherstrip, and found that my original cutting-list was no longer the most economical mix, and I had in stock a piece which would do the rear window and the fixed light. Suffice to say, I had not entirely lost the knack, and it went in easily (subject to the usual cautions). It was the locking strip that was the problem, a new coil was just wide enough to bind in the through-hole of the insertion tool. It was addressed sternly with a 10mm drill bit, and worked just fine thereafter!


Bay number 4, fully glazed once more.
Photo © J Wilkins

Applying the legend to the newly-popped flap.
Photo © J Wilkins

On my next visit I was accompanied by my apprentice, whose nimble, left-handed fingers were very useful when it came to holding some difficult nuts inside the bus while I worked from the outside (failed captive-nuts by the door valve mounting-plate). Then we made some air and tested the exterior door-release taps, which were found to be very sticky, so they were disassembled, cleaned and greased lightly, and found to be much improved. My apprentice found great novelty and amusement in the driver's trick of opening the door with the tap, and stepping through while simultaneously closing the door with the tap. He found that the build-up of air was slow enough that he could actually climb on at the entrance and leave again through the other side of the door before the door closed. Apprentices, what will they come up with! He also appreciated powering up the bus from my generator, dinging the signal-bell, and honking the horn. The purpose here is for him to get used to seeing the bus less as a cold, immobile lump, and more as a 'complex system' that has its own various needs. We pop-rivetted the entrance door-release flap in place and applied its lettering. He then set about cleaning the windows, while I cleaned-up the frame of the window in bay 6 ready for its forthcoming insertion. I think we all had fun.

Now, a diversion: are you named Nigel? I know four people called Nigel, and three of them are owners of vintage buses. They are also of similar age, and this is interesting, because the Office for National Statistics records that the popularity of the name peaked in 1963, but after 2016 fewer than three people were given the name in England and Wales combined. So, what has that do do with SM106? One of the Nigels is a benefactor, and I am very grateful for his support. There is another, however, who left a different kind of mark on the bus, three to be precise. Scratched deeply into the offside aluminium window pan of bay 6 the name Nigel appears twice, one of them with the qualifier 'B', apparently incised while sitting on the back seat or one row forward. There also appears the message "NB 4 ME". I wonder if it came to anything? Have they celebrated their silver wedding? Or was the perpetrator expressing a less-than secret love for Nigel? My apprentice asked how I was going to remove the lettering, and I had to reply that I will not because it is part of the history of the bus. If you are Nigel B and you do read this, please give me a call.

Well, in due course the window was fitted to bay 6, but I found that inserting the locking-strip was impossible unless I was standing higher than my portable steps allowed. Moving my scaffolding entailed relocation of my strategic heap of spare seat cushions, so it wasn't entirely plain-sailing. With the assistance of my apprentice I was able to get the scaffolding into place, the platform lowered, and the remainder of the locking-strip inserted. Then it was cleaned by my able assistant. He also spent some time polishing the new handle for the emergency door, and the rods and fittings that are in place. It all looked very smart. That left just the rear window and bay 5 to complete the installation, and I was not going to leave the rear until last, because I reckoned that it would be a stinker. Having mulled over the way to proceed, I concluded that the first step should be to insert the central frame displaced slightly so that I could offer-up one of the small side panes and then push the whole lot back into its correct location. So that is what I did, but I did find it difficult to get it all central, and a large block of wood and a club-hammer were required to persuade the assembly into the right place (as defined by the screw-holes in the locating-blocks). Then I had to insert the remaining (offside) side-pane with its channel-section attached, which looked very difficult, but actually turned out to be straightforward once I realised that the weatherstrip was disengaging from the frame, and making the fit look much worse than reality. I suppose it probably took about an hour to complete that stage, but it was longer by far when it came to the locking-strip. It did not help that the day turned out much warmer and sunnier than forecast, so I was 'quite warm' with all the exercise. The major problem was that the lower corner on the nearside was so tight that I could not get the strip in with the tool, and it took a lot of more or less robust persuasion before it gave-in. Finally, putting the screws back in the locating blocks required significant effort from a G-clamp to line everything up. Not nice, but I can see why the blocks are needed when you consider the weight of the emergency window and its tendency to escape from the weatherstrip. I must admit that I have not done the upper blocks yet, but I need to experiment with sliding the emergency window out of its frame first, or I won't be able to squeeze the weatherstrip as previously. It looked absolutely fine and dandy, which ever side is viewed! Now there really is only one window to go, in bay 5 - watch this space!


The rear/emergency window, all rubbery and lovely!
Photo © J Wilkins

The final window is installed to complete the set
for the first time this century!

Photo © J Wilkins

In other news, as Moira Stewart was given to saying, another vintage vehicle has returned to working condition thanks to the persistence of Brian the Mower Man. SP75, the mega-Flymo conked-out during the Spring, having become increasingly erratic. Bryan was initially very pessimistic about her motor, but it turns out that it is quite common in the USA, where it is used in light-duty snow-blowers. With remarkable swiftness a replacement carburettor crossed the Atlantic, and was fitted. After attention to the head and valves, life was restored. Initial results on the field were mixed, but thinking through the symptoms of rough-running, sudden paroxysms of misfiring and emission of black smoke, I diagnosed over-fuelling and spent a while dismantling the old carburettor to see how it worked - I know nothing about petrol engines, having only serviced diesels! Adjusting the mixture screw brought her back to peak condition after a few minutes, and I ran up and down my verges to keep the place properly tidy. The overgrown patches will be a longer project for winter, as was customary before SP75 joined the fleet. All this has turned-up an original advert for the SP75, part of the professional Flymo range, which turns out to be nearly as old as SM106!

Another milestone passed! Week 34 saw the final window installed in bay 5 on the offside, and didn't it look grand! A complete set of windows for the first time this century! It was a deliberate choice to do this one last, rather than finish with the rear, as I feared that the emergency window construction would throw up problems that I didn't want to cope with, and the 'upstairs', side windows are smaller and lighter. As it turned out, bay 5 DID throw up a problem not seen before. It was all going swimmingly, but for some reason I could not get the weatherstrip to grip the top of the ventilator-slide frame. By that time the fit was reasonably secure, so I was able to stick my head through a ventilator and look critically at the frame. It was a surprise to find that the ventilator slide was fouling the cosmetic edge of the weatherstrip, and I had to take my life in my hands and go inside the bus to tackle the problem by easing the ventilator slide into the aperture defined by the edge of the rubber. Once the window was free to move inwards, I was able (outside the bus again) to continue the progressive process of lifting the rubber onto the aluminium rib that matches the glass pane below. Finally, the filler strip was inserted without any real problem, though one corner was a bit tight. The secret appears to be working at exactly the right height so that pressure can be exerted at the correct angle to wiggle the tool, but with luck I won't need to do it again for a long time. It was a hard session, kneading the weatherstrip onto the window pan under adequate pressure, washing and polishing the window, then cleaning and polishing the frame, fitting the glass and then inserting the filling, and my hands have suffered from all the recent exertion. Time for a rest. Exactly how the good staff of PRV could spend their working lives inserting windows all day long is beyond me.

The last update was posted in late August, since when there has been a bit of a silence, but you may be sure that progress has been made during the many weeks since. September was a period of quiet on the bus front due to annual holidays at Girvan, which was conveniently located for me to try out my Senior Railcard on the Glasgow & South Western between Kilmarnock and Stranraer. A fine railway and one that I have been waiting to ride on since the 1970s when I first encountered the derelict remains of the 'Port Road' while on a geology field course at Leeds University. I must point out that travel between Leeds and Dumfries was facilitated by the Thames Clyde Express over the Settle & Carlisle line, and hauled by a Peak (yes, that shows my age). The former G&SW is 156 Super Sprinter territory, which was fine by me as I enjoy a British Rail era train! The following weekend it was off to Kendal for a conference, a trip dominated by Civity units with a bit of Pendolino and 158 thrown into the mix, with a run out to Windermere, another first. After that, things returned to 'normal', whatever that means! So far as SM106 was concerned, there has been progress on paint, tyres and fuel filters. Although the offside upper body is in proper livery with windows installed, the lower body has received a fresh undercoat with the yellow livery band properly masked off. There is a limit to what I can achieve in a single painting session, so I started with Lincoln Green on the moulding below the lower saloon windows, which finishes a job started longer ago than I care to recall. Then it was the same paint mix below the driver's window and bay 1, this time with a roller and thinned by about 30%, and the result was just fine. I am pretty sure that a lot of what I see as brush marks are actually in the undercoat, so I made sure that I had rubbed as much of that out before proceeding. While the brush was wet I also put some gloss on the front of wheel rims (now that the tyres are back on courtesy of Teiars Nant Conwy) and the running number holders. Sadly, that fine, warm day which popped-up without a fanfare will certainly be the last for the year, but it was a success, though pictures of that side of the bus are very problematic and you must take my word for it.


The finished wheel rims with tyres replaced
Photo © J Wilkins

The replacement fuel filter with pig-tail pipe
Photo © J Wilkins

The primary fuel filter has been the bane of my summer, but I think I now have the answer. It is not, of course London Transport Original, just a standard CAV filter with agglomerator bowl. I am pretty sure that the design has changed over the years, and it is now necessary to use a matched set of union-nut and olive specific to the modern unit. Any attempt to put new nut and olive into the old body has failed, so in a determined and disgusted funk I simply bought a new filter body from my local Auto-Electrician and set to replacing the 'original' unit. Then, of course I was forced to replace the pipes from tank to filter and from filter to the chassis union. Sadly, my last bit of Kunifer pipe was too short, but an extra metre for further experiment was soon obtained from my eBay source. I decided to re-jig the routing of the pipes because the original had entry and exit on the same side of the body, which just created conflict, and go for a simple pig-tail design for the section to the chassis union. The advantage of that was that it was guaranteed to sit straight in the unions if the lengths of the tails were correct. I spent a while looking for a former, because the spiral of the finished pipe would not slip off anything except a plain tube, ruling out my favourite former which has been the exhaust manifold of the spare engine. It turned out that my scaffolding contractor neighbour had an ACROW prop of just the right diameter! The first serious attempt was a success, and soon it was in place. Not good news on test, however! Sucking of fuel with the priming lever of the lift-pump showed nothing but bubbles coming through, even after prolonged pumping into a pot that could be emptied back into my can. "So it goes" as Kurt would say. I then resorted to a old electrical fault-finding trick: simply by-pass complex items which might be defective. A new nylon pipe was run from the chassis manifold to my fuel can, and priming resumed with the same result. Going all the way, as they say, I re-attached the new, direct pipe to the correct port on the engine manifold, and Hey-Presto no bubbles. That meant I was winning, so I had my lunch and a rest. It's hard work rolling on the floor under the fuel filter and climbing out to run round to reach into the Black Hole again. After lunch I made a new link-pipe between the chassis and engine manifolds from the end of my by-pass, and all was well - even after I put the connection back through the chassis line and new primary filter with its pig-tail. If I had batteries, I would have "pressed the tit" as the late Rob Woodcock would have said. Stalwart of the BaMMOT Museum, now Wythall, he would accost any driver sitting over-long with a cup of tea and ask how their "tit-pressing" was, as a hint that it was time to get back on the road. Well, I deserved my cup of tea, and while drinking it I added-up all the compression fittings that fuel must pass through between the tank and the injectors - an extraordinary TWENTY-SEVEN - any or all of which might be defective! Then I had a tinker with a 3-wide seat cushion that I found among Straub blue items recovered from Hertfordshire. It's time to reinstate my favourite offside rear seat now the windows make it a cosy nook again! But the cushion in question raises a conundrum: why does a blue-green Straub cushion have "Ash Grove" chalked on the back, when that garage was not opened until 1981? Answers on a postcard, please!

So, what do we do for an encore, after that success? Well, the reason the radiator was not where it belonged was to ensure freedom of access to the secondary fuel filter, and as it has long proven to be OK, radiator time has come. Now, it is heavy, but easy enough to lift if you can get hold of it, a situation which does not obtain under the rear saloon floor, so it had to be raised progressively, and in the correct attitude. Assembling my entire collection of (spare) wood blocks and planks, a milk-crate and my jack, the job took a couple of hours. Sadly that included a false move which had to be reversed. The following might not apply to a 'standard' radiator, which is not so wide, of course, but the problem is the same in that the mounting brackets make the assembly wider than the pitch of the outriggers. Using the blocks, each end was raised by about 3" or 4" at a time, but I did discover that the rear must 'lead' during this process, as its mounting bracket must be in place on the outrigger, with the front bracket inboard before the front end can be swung outwards, raised and slipped back onto the forward outrigger. That made it seem easy, which it wasn't, but at the end of the process the radiator was swinging snugly on reasonable rubber bushes atop the outriggers and located with a bolt to prevent any movement. At which point there was a celebratory lunch and recuperation session. Too tired to do anything really physical, instead I started to sort out the rear blind box and its winding gear. The logic behind that rather trivial task being that its glazing is the only piece of glass not in its proper place! It was also an excuse to examine the contents of a couple of boxes of spares relocated during a recent boat-shuffling move, and which need to be stowed properly before the rest of the fleet comes in for the winter. It's amazing what one finds, and of relevance: I have two spare sets of front and rear blind-winding gear, various internal paraphernalia of MB application, one more emergency door-release handle and assorted door handrails including their elusive barrel-nuts, PA amplifier, a driver's door latch and a nearside driving mirror. The emergency door-release handle went straight into my lunch-box so it can be worked on at home in the warm, ready for fitting in the exit header. Elsewhere, I found my good winder with its mounting-block and chose a matching 'non-winding' end but could not find its mounting-block. After a search I concluded that I did not have anything in the garage suitable and closed the session. Next day, armed with a scrap piece of wood from home I made a new mounting-block, drilled appropriate holes, fitted the winding mechanism and tried a tension-roller for size. It fitted snugly, which was just fine. All the bits were removed once more, the new wood given a coat of primer and the blind-box interior prepared for a coat of paint. A small hole had come to light, quite literally, almost certainly the result of perennial water ingress and electrolytic corrosion between the steel frame and aluminium panelling. That was quickly filled, and the whole given a coat of pale-grey to make it look clean. I also re-instated the prop on the door and put the wiring to the lighting back in its conduit ready for my next electrical session. I felt particularly relieved when I found the two idle-rollers which belong in there, as I was expecting to have to make some up as previously for the destination blind. Instead, I just needed to clean and lubricate ready for renewed service. Another happy day!


Three-seat cushion as found - the squab is random but comfy
Photo © J Wilkins

The rear blind-box glazing in place at last.
Photo © J Wilkins

The next session took place on a surprisingly pleasant day, and warm enough to wave a green paint-brush so I put a top-coat on the work-in-progress wheels and also on the garage/running-number plates. Both therefore became more or less ready for re-attachment. The afternoon shift started with attaching the number-blind winding-gear as a prelude to inserting the glass. It could be done afterwards, but I'm sure it would be easier to work through the blind aperture. Soon done, and idle-rollers inserted, then to dig out the NEW toughened glass which I had made a very long time ago (September 2004 to be precise) when I realised how badly abused was the only other glass I had in stock. The rear glass had been painted over and sign-written "Welcome Aboard", which sounded a bit over-the-top for a local bus! After a thorough cleaning the new glass was put aside while the weatherstrip was dug out and the discovery that a mouse had re-purposed my stock as the basis for a nest, including having a nibble at some of the filler! The actual glass insertion seemed to go smoothly with persistent but not too forceful application of lever pressure. At the point of full insertion of the glass I gave up because I was tired, and experience has shown that inserting the filler can be a trial, so I called it a day before anything started to go backwards. At home, I continued the preparation of the emergency door-release handle that I had found. It will look good and complete the exit header. Next time I was down, the filler did not go into the weatherstrip as planned. I had squeezed a bit too much 'spare' into the weatherstrip, and it kinked at the upper corner, and in my enthusiasm I had succeeded in cutting the web with the insertion tool. It's surprisingly easy to do if you hit the edge of the glass. Well it had to come out again because we don't want to start with a leak, even if it had eventually proved possible to complete the filler insertion. A new piece of IRS1295 weatherstrip was cut marginally shorter and great care taken to avoid kinks the second time. I also found that the kinking was partly due to the glass pressing into the aperture instead of sitting flush, so took steps to brace the glass ready for the second attempt. You will be pleased to hear that it did work OK, but I discovered an area where the mice had been chewing the weatherstrip. Fortunately it was only a cosmetic nibble, and if anybody spots it they will be doing very well indeed. The glass was cleaned and I moved on to rubbing down the rusty frame for the driver's seat, and applying red oxide primer. Then went home before Storm Ciarán landed.


The new radiator is installed at last! From the outside....
Photo © J Wilkins

...and the inside, with the fan-motor chassis in place.
Photo © J Wilkins

If the raising of the radiator was an ordeal, then attaching the hydraulic fan-motor frame was worse, and ended split between two work days. I elected to lift the radiator without the fan assembly because it would not only be lighter, but having the heavy fan-chassis on the back makes it very unstable and the complete unit would be impossible to handle (bearing in mind that I work alone under most circumstances). I knew that the fan-chassis would fit onto a set of ¼-inch bolts, 8 in number, because I have had it all in place while doing the drilling of the radiator ends. Luckily, the fan, though unstable, is much lighter, though it does have the additional hazard of the fragile blades which are always vulnerable. Lifting was easy enough, and popping in the first bolt. The difficult bit was fitting the nuts! Captive nuts, or studs as per the original AEC unit, would be correct for a production environment, but I cannot go there, and probably would not for fear of the difficulty of ever undoing them. Sadly, the radiator lives in a very corrosion-prone location! Using a pair of fingers to ease the nuts into place while turning the bolt with the other hand was the method, but the narrow clearance and sharp radiator fins made it an ordeal. After a few were in place, I remembered that my trial fitting used plain nuts, but the final attachment needed Nyloc nuts, so those were repeated with much grumbling and more pain. Once I had all 8 of the bolts in place loosely I went home. A short session a couple of days later, part of a longer outing in the Pentrefoelas district, saw the thicker bolts inserted into the stay-rod brackets, and the whole shooting-match tightened down. The last batch of nuts were held with my water-pump pliers, which are much slimmer than regular pliers, and have a secure, parallel grip. I wish I had thought of that sooner! "So it goes" as Kurt would say. In between whiles, more paint was applied sequentially to the driver's seat frame, so I went away happy. While composing this, I was struck again by just how much smaller the radiator is than the body aperture, even when extended by four inches! It just needs the stay-rods attaching now. Oh, and the water pipes, but that's a different campaign.

I have had recent correspondence with Keith from Hitchin, who was the generous donor of my spare seat stock, regarding the source of those blue-green cushions. Apparently, they were mostly from DMS vehicles coming out of service, and it is for others to work out what they were doing at Ash Grove. The important bit, he pointed out, was that I have always used the wrong name for the blue pattern moquette, which is only ever identified in the parts listing as "blue-green". Celestra appears to be a trade name for a woven fabric used as a dust cover on the base of chairs and sofas - so now you know. I also found where I had picked-up the name from: Ken Russell's book "The London Swifts" (Capital Transport 1985). It was obviously a matter of interest that the same seat-covering was used for the country fleet when there was no compulsion to do so, though the buses were ordered before the split from London Transport. However, the information appears to be in error, and I note on the same page (p16) that the country buses were given floors in "Aerowalk" flooring. That does not agree with contemporary PRV photography of the newly-finished vehicles, which clearly have conventional Multislat flooring. Here is the truth, as distilled from various sources including "Seats of London" by Andrew Martin (Safe Haven Books, 2019). Back in 1965 Misha Black (who had done iconic poster work for London Transport, industrial design for major companies including British Rail and conducted a twelve year consultancy to LT on the design of the Victoria Line) commissioned a moquette for London Transport which would become a design icon. The block pattern of blues and greens is known as Straub, after its designer - Marianne Straub OBE, a leading designer of fabrics from the 1940s to the 1960s who was famous for prototyping her designs on a hand-loom. The striking pattern was originally intended to launch the Victoria line in the late 1960s but wasn’t ready in time. So it found its way onto the Bakerloo, Northern and Piccadilly lines instead. London and London Country buses of the 1970s used it too, i.e. late-series MB saloons, Swift types, RP, DMS, and even some RF, RML and SNC. It must have been a real money-spinner for Holdsworths!

Well, that's enough theory for a bit, so let's get back to the bus. The engine 'room' is a mess, and I'm reluctant to put work in to connect hoses etc. when they will just be in the way of a tidy-up. A particular bug-bear is the mess of damaged and disintegrating fibreglass composite pads that are on the back of the bench seat box to provide thermal and acoustic insulation. So I have started a clear-up, and removed the mucky mat from the nearside, where it covers the box containing the voltage regulator and the remains of the automatic heater controller. It was held by small aluminium plates pop-rivetted onto the steelwork, so it wasn't a big deal to undo. Not so the reservoir tank for the hydraulic pump, which had large bolts and wasn't in a hurry to let go. A good tommy-bar and an extension handle shifted them after a bit of grunting, so by the end of the available daylight things were looking much neater and the tank and brackets were all wire-brushed with my angle-grinder and awaiting painting. I also cleaned-up the thermostat housing and water pump area and tried to figure-out what the mess of broken wiring was really about - not very successfully, but that wasn't the real object of the day.


The new radiator is installed at last! From the outside....
Photo © J Wilkins

...and the inside, with the fan-motor chassis in place.
Photo © J Wilkins

That work was continued ready to clean-up the chassis, and inside the base of the rear bench-seat where there was an unholy mess of the kind of dirt that just accumulates in hard-to-reach areas of buses. It even has its own special smell! A pound or so of grime was collected, and it proved interesting - like a medieval midden which tells about life in the day. The box has lost its lid, presumably because a generation of fitters had become fed-up with undoing the screws every time they had to dive in to fix the heating. A lot of the larger detritus was de-laminated plywood from seat-bases, but there were also a lot of similarly-shaped plastic parts which appeared to be some kind of shim and a lot of very grubby paper in two forms, thin and square and thicker but rectangular - all of them oily and without obvious markings. Yes, historical Almex and Setright tickets, which were posted or swept in from time to time. I noticed that there is a new aperture in the front of the box, with a mesh cover, but I don't know why it needed ventilation.


The hydraulic oil reservoir ready for primer.
Photo © J Wilkins

The voltage regulator and mess under the rear seat.
Photo © J Wilkins

By that time I was tired, so started to seek-out the necessary parts to finish the assembly of the interior trim. It is obvious that the rear-most, near-side window has seen some reconstruction as there is new grey plastic and the long moulding above the window is short - for which I will need a replacement length. The grey trim is interesting, and a new technology compared with the Routemaster age of Rexine. The window pillars have a flat profile, and are finished with grey plastic held captive in grooves formed into the aluminium extrusion of the window-pan. The 'plastic' is Darvic, a PVC material without the normal plasticiser and pressed into sheets to produce a self-coloured, smooth finish. Neat! Also no longer produced, but there are alternatives such as TELBEX. Because the window pan has been removed, fettled and re-installed, the trim would no longer fit nicely, so it was a pleasant fettling job to put it right again. Another step towards a neat, complete saloon. The hydraulic fluid reservoir and brackets have been given a primer coat ex-situ, and that project will continue.


The residua from the heater control box.
Photo © J Wilkins

The Blackpool 'Luminations.
Photo © J Wilkins

I thought that it might be amusing to look more closely at the rubbish from under the rear seat, in case its vintage could be determined, so I sieved out the fine, dusty stuff and picked-over what remained. Sadly, no identifiable tickets were located, but it was a good game. Inside, and it was back to the electrics for a change - but only after wire-brushing the nearside rear frame and chassis and applying some rust-converter. It said that it should not be used in temperatures <10°C, and the day was surprisingly warm (for November). Make hay etc.... First job was to re-connect the lamp batten on the rear blind-box and put a couple of bulbs in it. London Transport were lavish with their lighting and specified 4 X 12W bulbs in each box, and 3 X 12W bulbs in the "NO ENTRY" sign, but I only need to prove that they work (for now, at least). The effect was truly glorious and gave the impression of the Blackpool Illuminations in what was otherwise a rather gloomy and dark garage under a typical November sky. I was also minded to have a go at the wiring of the driver's binnacle, which has various unauthorised modifications such as the hazard-warning lights switch, and the indicator stalk which has not yet been connected-up to its NOS switch unit (well done, Steve F). Working off the plan, the setup was returned to original specification, and a bulb holder was wired-in at the rear but it didn't exactly function as intended. Instead of a bold flashing from the Ice Warrior unit on the offside, there was just a dim, steady glow from the repeaters on the binnacle. No clunking from the interruptor! Was it faulty? Well, a test bulb on a bit of wire soon proved that it wasn't, and that the logic of the connections to the direction switch and terminal block was entirely correct. More work to do there, such as proving that the labelling of the rear lamp-cluster wiring was correct and that the wires connected to the bulb-holders were intact. An unexpected finding was triggered by the dirty and unhappy state of the over-temperature buzzer on the bell-board, which has lost its cover. Digging in the stores, I found a spare board which had a pristine buzzer complete with cover, so that will make another little job when I am bored one day. Well done to my father for collecting another item of great value from the erstwhile donor vehicles. Unfortunately, my long testing wire has been re-purposed to operate the rear-hatch lock of my Clio which has gone flakey on me. It all made a pleasant change from lying on the floor becoming covered in muck from under the engine-room. And, finally, when I returned home I found a parcel of transfers to complete the interior signage (in due course). Thanks Simon. Happy days!

A long session with my new 'test-cable' (about 12 metres long and furnished with a 24V, 12W bulb and spade connectors at each end) came up with some disturbing findings, but the long session was all about proving that my conceptual model of the wiring was correct and any failure not simply a feature of my flawed imagination. The advantage with the direction indicators is that there are two, presumably identical set-ups. Drawing a blank on the offside, I tried again on the nearside where there was more joy on offer. The logical situation is that one of the two wires poking out into daylight at the front indicator casting connects through to the paired rear-lamp cluster to connect two 12V bulbs in series. One thing I found is that my rear wiring has been mis-labelled by the dismantler! "So it goes", as Kurt would say. The other wire of the IND pair at the back must go to the negative bus-bar, which it did. However, there was no connection between the terminal block in the binnacle and the 'other' wire at the 'ear' position. Switching attention back to the offside proved the same, but with the added excitement of there being no through-connection between the lamp positions. "Drat and double-drat", as Dick Dastardly would say. Actually, drat is the minimalist comment on this mess, because of course the wires all run in conduits buried in the cove panels. At present, my hunch regarding the lack of continuity between the binnacle and ears is a dodgy 33-way connector on the front dash, but I was hoping I would not need to disturb that! After all the electrical excitement, I was too exhausted mentally for much other than continuing work on the new lid for the regulator box and the re-purposing of a decent seat cushion (fabric foam and fittings) for the two-seat position at the nearside corner. Its plywood base was rotted and riddled with woodworm, so our wood-stove is its approved destination. The hydraulic oil reservoir has had a coat of primer and silver and is back awaiting progress on the chassis. Fiddling with the electrics of the binnacle has continued, without much success, although there has been confirmation that what has been put back in place is correct. Curiously, the contactor unit behind the driver's seat has failed to perform correctly and I suspect that a wire has come adrift in the STOP button circuit. Fortunately, I have a picture of the binnacle from 2007 upon which can actually be read the numbering of many cable sleeves in the area. The other discovery is that the MB wiring diagram which I have been using for advice for a long time (thanks, Keith) isn't exactly correct for an SM, so I have a problem in a couple of areas - notably the contactor unit! So much is correct that it is still a boon, however. Lying on the concrete floor isn't a suitable activity for such cold weather, so I have found other jobs, and taken some work home, such as the rear seat cushion re-purposing.


A new seat-base, repurposing plywood from our boat.
Photo © J Wilkins

Patching the Multislat flooring.
Photo © J Wilkins

I have also examined the floor in the exit area, thinking that it will be easier to work on before the doors are installed. Treadmaster, Multislat and associated items are now in a heritage class of their own, so I have derived a repair plan that uses scrap materials left from the entrance area. The exit was furnished originally by Multislat with an attached nosing, which makes it difficult to repair due to the pitch of the slats, but I don't think anybody will really notice my bodge - answers on a postcard, please! I shall choose a warmer day to apply glue, though (Note that the new patch needs to be cut back for the nosing). When I had the power on, I noticed a whining noise from the transistorised light drivers and connected a couple of new tubes for a lark. They lit-up, but not brightly, which was another positive, however silly. At this time of year you have to do what you can to stay sane! But sanity is in short supply, sadly! Repeated efforts around the wiring of the indicators has confirmed my initial findings - no connection from binnacle to the ears, and only the nearside has continuity through the rear to ground. Better news from the START button, where it appears that a hard-pressed mechanic simply by-passed the latching relay rather than mend it (it was only a dead snubber diode, but unfortunately silicon diodes tend to fail short and there was also some smoking wire) which was really easy and done a long time ago. Getting to grips with the wiring between binnacle and latching-relay soon showed the problem - no holding current through the secondary contacts - and that if I fixed that issue then the effect would be to engage the starter continuously. Finally, it dawned on me that the second switch-element stacked on the START button is to prevent that exact situation! Separating the starter operation from the relay impulse was simple enough, and then implementing the proper STOP button function even easier. In a nutshell, the START button has two "push-to-make" circuits while the STOP button has one "push-to-make" circuit and one "push-to-break", which are conveniently provided in each switch element. Another home-working task has been to put together a working set of door-control switches, which were very obviously absent from the cab-side. Sadly, I have a large number of rusted and filthy switches, but the last one required for a working set was found and fettled. The design is poor in the sense that any water coming through the cab window will settle on top of the switch and eventually rust will cause it to seize-up. This one was just sticky, so it was opened, cleaned and serviced and attached to its bracket. Then I had to make sense of the wiring, but fortunately (as I had expected) I had made full notes and a diagram of the wiring locations in my notebook and almost all the wires were tagged. I set about drawing a schematic so that I might understand it better, but the exit-door switches did not look right, at least until I realised that originally they had been rotated by 180 degrees. Sorting that out was simple, and then I was delighted to see that the wiring connections looked the same for both controls. I had to put new crimp tags on the wires to make it neater, easier and more durable. Goodness knows why the crimps were cut off and bare wires fitted under the screws. When the time came for a test, I could not find any voltages anywhere, but remembered in the nick of time that it is all dependent upon the contactor unit. Pressing START brought a determined thunk from the contactor and a click from some of the relays on the control panel, which was good. When air-pressure was applied from my portable compressor the front door promptly shut and gave me a surprise! Yes, it opened again when requested, with a huge hiss from the compromised air-piping and worked fine. The only sign of life from the exit was the OPEN warning lamp and one mysterious opening episode which could not be repeated. I think the solenoid valve is stuck, since the manual controls are fine. Progress on the indicators and side-lights has not advanced much, but I did manage to get inside the Painton 33-way plug and socket to discover that the central alignment socket ferrule had unscrewed and forced some of the wiring aside, but I don't think there was any damage. As I had (once again) forgotten my electrical tool-kit, there was no more to be done except size-up the radiator top-pipe assembly and think about what I need to re-install it.


A tidy re-fit for the door-controls wiring.
Photo © J Wilkins

Opening-up the switch panel on the cab header.
Photo © J Wilkins

There is not a lot to do in North Wales in the cold, damp months, so de-bugging bus pneumatics and electrics are on-trend at present. Progress was also more likely as I had my multimeter with me on this visit! First-off as another look at the door solenoid valves, and confirmed that they are indeed 2-wire devices. As they are biased when 'off' it is obvious why the doors default to a closed condition as soon as air is applied. It soon became apparent that the exit valve was working (up to a point), which would explain its odd behaviour. Pressing on, I found that the OPEN button would do just that, but there was no closing it unless the power was turned off. I think the answer lies in the relays, which makes it a job for another day. Then it was back to the short-circuited side & tail light switch. This is a 2-pole device, one side does what you would expect and the other applies power to the binnacle switches for head and fog lights. I disconnected the S&T pole, and switched on. Amazingly, the speedometer-dial lamp came on and glowed cheerfully. Argian fawr (trans: blimey)! Thereafter it was a fun romp through the other switches and connections, which showed that the headlamp and wiper circuits were all showing vital signs, though the dip-switch appears to be stuck on main-beam. Back on the indicators after a cup of strong coffee, I re-wired the indicator tell-tale lamps through a spare connector on the indicators tag-strip and the abandoned circuit No.10 to the bell-board where they belong. That drops the current for a longer life. All of which shows that the continuity through the Painton plug/socket is just about perfect on every circuit tested, apart from the indicators. I am beginning to smell a rat here. Either way, sorting the wiring to the 'ears' is a priority, and here came a bitter blow. Fiddling with the grotty wiring at the rear of the bus provoked an "unscheduled disassembly" of the indicator's positive line where it exits the conduit under the rear quarter panel, which was the last chance of salvaging any of the existing, accessible wiring. I spent another hour trying to understand how the wires from the binnacle are routed through conduits to the ears and rear, but then my inspection-lamp battery ran out and it was time to go home.


Fixing and testing the driver's wiper motor.
Photo © J Wilkins

The sad saga of the nearside indicator wiring continues.....investigating its path showed that it breaks surface at a number of points en route from the 'ear' to the rear, so replacement would be tricky but not absolutely awful. At the rear I found that after its recent spell in the limelight it had decided to part company where it left the conduit, and fall to the ground leaving just a tantalising bit of useless, coppery stubble. But what was this? Close inspection showed that it was not in the conduit with the brake and tail lights circuits, but in its own which was stuck with masking tape to its neighbour. I concluded ruefully that this was a job which would have been better attended to before the panelling was applied, never mind completed! "So it goes", as Kurt would say. Cutting the tape brought joy, however, as I was able to liberate a few inches of wire to connect onto for the last leg of the journey. Back at the front (tee-hee!) there were signs of continuity, however, though power was required for testing. Then the crimp-tag on an innocuous circuit called AUX parted company with the bus-bar, and I found that it included the interruptor which fed the indicators, and I did not have an eyelet-tag large enough to make a new connection. Time to go home, carrying some homework, which was conducted at the solstice, always an auspicious time. First, the screw-in adaptor for the entrance door solenoid valve appears to be 1/8" BSP, so a fitting which will attach my stock air-pipe was ordered online. Then I set about the investigation and repair of the windscreen-wiper motor which has been lying around at home for absolute ages after its failure was first diagnosed. Knowing that the wiring on the bus would make it work was an incentive! Obviously the subject of an overload and melted insulation, I had a go at attaching some flying leads and covering the wire with heat-shrink tubing and then attaching a power source. Working out that it was a series-wound motor was key, and guessing at the connections it was reassembled and attached to a model train controller that I use for sundry tasks like charging my radio (golf-trolley) battery and testing model trains. Nothing happened at first, but a gentle prod at the armature with a plastic spatula produced movement! Cleaning the top bearing with a well-known agent and applying a drop of light oil enabled movement (nominally 12V applied to a 24V motor, remember), which slowly improved. After a bit of running and a clean of the commutator with some kitchen towel and a drop more of the well-known cleaning-fluid, things improved greatly. Soon it was running smoothly and a croc-clip on the spindle was wagging to and fro like the cat in a chinese takeaway. Sadly, I have only one motor; the other was taken from the 'Christmas Tree' long before aquisition. Speed control was superlative (a cloned Gaugemaster circuit) and proved that it is always electrical contact which lets down model trains.

The last session of the year brought some resolutions that had been postponed because my favourite auto-electrical outlet was closed over the Christmas to New Year period. I am pleased to report that an alternative source provided the requisites to fettle the wiring from the end of the nearside trunking to the indicator 'ear' and join it securely. A new crimp tag has been applied to the interrupter circuit and connected to the bus bar. I also spent some time tracing the side-light wire down the trunking toward the bus-bar cabinet, but it disappears into a thick, tight wiring bundle and cannot be traced to any joining point, which must exist because so many circuits depend upon it (e.g. tail-lights, step-lamps and 'No Entry' box). with the nearside indicator wiring secured again I spent a while with my meter testing the circuits and was able to prove a connection right through to the rear from the binnacle tag-strip. I had seen this before, but lost it again, and I surmise that I have from time to time been missing the fact that right and left indicators are reversed on the tag-strip. Shorting the rear indicator wire to ground enabled the insertion of a 24V bulb at the front and a healthy flashing ensued. Fabulous! The offside connection was still dead, so I became more forceful and separated the 33-way plug & socket, then checked each end of the wire to its destination. Lo and behold, it was perfect. So, if both ends were correct, but didn't connect through the socket, then it was the socket connection at fault. Just in case you are under any illusions, the socket is not easy to reach in front of the steering column, and the assembled cable is thick and unwieldy. There were signs of contact on the plug pins, but circuit 23 was still bent out of shape (and buried in the centre of the assembly), so I gave it a gentle massage back to its proper orientation and pushed home the plug (again). This time I was rewarded with a beep from my meter, but it was dark and time to go home and I had struggled enough for one day. At least I have something to look forward to for 2024! That is it for 2023; it has been a roller-coaster ride recently and I am looking forward to consolidating some of the small gains in the near future.



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