Ornbau - the big gathering

I set of at 6.30 am (see yesterdays posting to calculate how much sleep I got), drove the car out of my garage, closed the garage door behind me, turned right at the first crossroads and drove right away into the arms of an police control. Well, not quite, as the car decided to stall a few meters in front of them. What a start. But they only wanted to know whether I drank lots of booze yesterday or today, and I wholeheartedly answered "NO". The police officer stepped to the right (the right) side of the car, but he approached me in german. Kind of an half-hearted attempt. But very friendly, although being asked to show the car documents I answered (less wholeheartedly this time) "no". Well, I got away with it.

After collecting my co-travellers on the way, we set of for the big Mercedes-Benz club gathering at Ornbau, located in the most beautiful southern region of Franconia. As you can see, there was no time to visit the hairdresser.



Spirits were high, weather was best, the car behaved - almost, coming to a stop when we were nearly there, with fuel starvation. Filling up the tank helped. Calculating the fuel consumption (12 mpg) did not help. Readiness to travel restored. Oil level checked. Drops lots of it.



We then resumed our travel without problems and drove right into the huge gathering, with hundreds of cars and thousands of visitors.



The car got parked next to another Crayford, no stroke-eight of course but a W116 that was somewhat "improved" during its restoration. A very interesting car, and putting two Mercedes Crayfords together should not have taken place for some time.

The funny thing is, everybody has got an opinion about the Crayford stroke-eight. And although everybody got the same opinion about it, everybody needs to tell it to me. As if I never saw my own car before. And yes, I KNOW that the roofline is not perfect.

But what a wonderful way to spend a wonderful day. We talked, bought parts and in any way socialised for the rest of the day. Then Michael, one of my co-travellers, asked for the car keys and I gave them to him. A few minutes later, he appeared with the car right in the middle of the meeting and drove it into the club headquarter, where TUeV checks are carried out during the day. And then it all started.



The TUeV officer, a member of the Mercedes club, gave us very helpful advice on what to do so that the car will gain TUeV approval. From the technical side, there was not much to nag about, brake hoses at the rear and one or two rubber buffers. Examining the structure, there were more severe problems, and we were explained in detail what needs to be welded and what can remain like it is. We also got valuable advice about the procedure to acquire the german historic number plate, where special examinations and tests are carried out.

After all the good news, we put the car to rest and started to party in a serious way. A stroke-eight taxi took me to my hotel late at night. One of the things I still remember.

More work

With the intention to take the green Crayford /8 to a big Mercedes-Benz gathering tomorrow, I set to work at about 2 pm. The first thing to re-assemble was the propshaft, featuring a new rubber boot and a new bearing (an of-the-shelf over-the-counter model bought from a bearing company for less than Mercedes asks for). The rubber boot is quite expensive at about 45 Euros.



The propshaft, well marked before disassembly of course and cleaned a bit afterwards, went into the car almost by itself. No problems here whatsoever. New self-locking nuts, of course. The flexible joint discs at the front and at the rear were checked and proved to be OK. Very rewarding.

Next on the list was the rear exhaust: pick up new part from workshop floor, hold it into direction of car, fit it. Easy.

The fuel tank got a new seal for its filter element and was also easily refitted. New fuel hoses and clips at the same time, of course. And the missing plastic locking cap for the boot floor (where the wires to the fuel sender unit pass the floor) was added, not too expensive a part at about 1,50 Euro.

Our prayers were then obeyed and the bleeding valves of all the brake calipers opened without ripping off, although they were quite rusty. So we bled the brakes, cleaning the brake fluid reservoir on the way. One of the three caps of the reservoir proved a bit leaky and a little spray of brake fluid eat itself into the paintwork of the engine bay. Most was rinsed off in time. But I forgot to rinse the left front wing. No idea how the brake fluid got there in the first place. Nice row of dots though.

I continued with little cosmetic improvements, like mounting new bonnet buffers.



Meanwhile it was time for dinner, and afterwards Felix started to clean the interior of the car out of pure kindness. I tackled another task, bigger this time. The leaky radiator.



This started well, with the old radiator easily removed (it includes an oil cooler for the automatic transmission and is mounted together with the oil cooler for the engine oil, so some wrenching was on order). The new radiator fitted in with more difficulties, as some details and the mountings for the fan shroud were quite different. After long hours it proved impossible to fit the fan shroud without the fan touching it, making loud noises. The resolution was to move the radiator forwards as far as possible, using a lot of force (it should not move anyway, so another problem) and locate it there with cable ties. 1 am by now. A quick fix but not a satisfying one.

Work was not finished and I installed a new-old Blaupunkt radio (with FM) so that we can listen to some radio/iPod during our trip tomorrow. Well, today. I finally took the car to my house, arriving there at about 2.30 am. A long day, a short night.

Lots of work

and no photographs.

Yesterday was a recreational day after the little get-together on Friday, but today work continued on the green Crayford.

During the little outing on Friday the propeller shaft became very noisy, so today Daniel and I dismantled more or less the complete underside of the car to remove the propshaft. We finally extracted it from the car and disassembled it on my workbench. The bearing was fine, the rubber boot was completely shot. Unfortunately, you have to destroy the bearing (or at least damage it severely) to remove the rubber boot. We succeeded in doing that. New parts to be bought tomorrow.

Then we removed the rear silencer that had parted from its tube. The middle silencer is fine, though.

When we collected the car from Britain, Rory told me not to fill the fuel tank completely because he never did and he did not know whether it was rusted through on the top. So we drained (mega-yuk, I hate working on gasoline engined cars) and removed the fuel tank to find it in serviceable condition. A good clean confirmed that it is rusty on the outside but fine on the inside. I will change the seals for the fuel sender unit and the fuel drain plug, renew the hoses and simply put it back onto the car.

As I found the radiator to be leaky a few days ago, I ordered a new one but it has not been delivered yet. So I prepared the old radiator for removal, giving the connections for the automatic transmission oil cooler a good spray of WD40. The engine oil cooler can be parted from the radiator and will remain in the car. Daniel suggested not to remove the old radiator until the new one sits in my workshop, and I followed this wise suggestion. The car would be rendered completely stationary if something broke during removal of the old radiator.

Then I decided to continue with low-profile cosmetic improvements: replace the faulty switch for the rear interior light operated by the left rear door (the new switch looks very differently and will be exchanged for an originally-looking old part as soon as possible), removing the rubber from the rear bumper (finding the chromed bumper severely rusted on the left part and fine on the right part), clean away the rust and reassemble the rubber for a much-improved look, and firmly attach the "250" badge on the completely rusted-through bootlid (an operation during which the bootlid disintegrated in this area).

We began to clean the engine, which is very oily on the left side, but did not detect the origin of the oil dripping to the ground from the engine. The same goes for the fuel smell, it may simply originate from the shot rear silencer (engine running rich) or from the fuel lines at the fuel tank, which I will renew. The fuel hoses in the engine compartment are more or less new already.

So much for today. Collecting parts tomorrow.

One patient and many doctors

A few friends came round to my workshop today, to celebrate the near-mystical appearance of the Crayford /8 and its faultless journey from Britain. A little drive with four on board was on order.



It is always a good idea to have competent Mercedes-Benz personnel with you.



Afterwards we fired up the barbeque and I did the little celebration with the Crayford /8 that I prepared when we brought it over from Britain - having a very nice pint of british real ale. Old Speckled Hen, if you insist to know.

Now the odds were against me: I wanted to celebrate, the crew wanted to inspect the car. After we chased away a north-african taxi, the Crayford changed from a place on the ground floor to the heights of my workshop hoist for the first time.



I then stopped taking photographs. But what happended next was like this (from "Asterix in Switzerland").



There was some (well, a lot of) rust, but not unexpectedly so. There was some oil that should better be on the inside of the engine. There was some water that should better keep itself in the radiator instead of dripping out of it. And there was a lot of noise from the silencer that had parted from its tube on the ferry. A new one is already lined up in my workshop.

And during the aforementioned small drive, the center ball bearing on the propeller shaft more or less desintegrated... More work to do.

Giving it a good clean

Arriving at my workshop.



New tires on older but very serviceable /8 rims.



Jacking the car up for a good clean.



Front left wheelarch.

View from the engine bay. Left inner wing rusted off from the footwell.



Rear left wheelarch. Rusted through to the front and at the bottom.

Left inner/outer rear wing. Not much left there.



Front right wheelarch before cleaning. Rusted through to the footwell, too.

Front right wheelarch after cleaning.

Rear right wheelarch. No metal left at the bottom.

Visit from a differently coloured friend.



First small repairs: adding the missing rubber grommet at the left spring for the bonnet (see inset).



Next I removed the period Blaupunkt radio (that only plays LW and MW), the switch for the (now missing) electric antenna and the rotary knob for moving the radio sound to the front or rear. A similar radio that also plays FM is already on the shelf and will be installed when a missing rubber grommet is obtained. In the meantime, the original blanking plate for the radio, featuring the "250" script and found in the glovebox, found its way there.



The left red knob is for the hazard flasher and the right white knob is operating the heated rear window. What the black knob in between is responsible for was unclear to Rory and also to me until I examined the connections in more detail. The knob is connected to original Mercedes-Benz wiring. And the car features an interior light in the back that is normally operated by a switch in the dashboard. This car being a RHD version, the place for this switch is taken up by the handbrake. So Mercedes-Benz moved the switch for the rear interior light into the center console on RHD cars. After I added a small bulb into the rear interior lightning unit, there was light and the switch did what it was intended to - turn the light off and on. Success.

We have finally arrived

This tale of our journey to Britain was kindly compiled by my fearless co-traveller Felix, who also took the pictures. Musik to listen to while reading this: "Mister Bloe - Grooving With Mister Bloe".

Today Felix and I collected the green Crayford /8 estate from Rory in Worthing, Sussex and drove it to my home in Germany.

The whole trip felt like a weird Top Gear challenge with us meeting in Düsseldorf at 4.30 am, packed with tons of tools, spares and a great variety of train, bus and plane tickets. So in the spirit of Clarkson and co. we spent the whole trip basically throwing Top Gear quotes at each other, laughing a lot and getting funny looks.

First leg: Düsseldorf to Cologne airport. A tram full of sleepy drunken people brought us to Düsseldorf main station where we switched to the ICE train to Cologne which of course was 20 minutes late. So when we arrived at the airport we had 15 minutes to get to the check-in and since there was no TV camera around we even ran at one point. Being a little out of breath we discovered that the plane was delayed, too, and we spent the delay waiting and grunting at all means of public transport.





Second leg: Cologne airport to London Victoria Station. Everything went smoothly on the flight so we hurried through the customs at London Gatwick airport only to find out that the bus which should take us to the London Victoria Station left just moments ago. After even more grunting we quickly emboarded a train that took us to London Liverpool Street; we then took the tube to Victoria Station and the train was pretty crowded with shoppers from outside London I suppose.



Remember this was on a Saturday morning. We arrived at Victoria Station with 20 minutes to spare in which Christian managed to get our tickets and I managed to get hold of some sandwitches. All in all everything went rather well, but the only thing we managed to see from London itsself was the Gurke on the way in and Battersea Power Station on the way out. Sightseeing? Well, another time. We were on a mission! But a funny feeling to rush through the London underground with the knowledge that this wonderful city is located just above us.

Third leg: London Victoria Station to Worthing aka THE TRAIN OF DOOM. The British have a great sense of confusing everyone who even thinks about taking a train somewhere. First of all you need a ticket in which case you should know where you need to be going. This is the easy part. You are then confronted with finding out which platform to take - something the British deliberately make so difficult that you are going to miss your train eventually. Even if you know the platform number, finding out where the right platform actually is is close to impossible. In our case the train departed from platform 16 and we were faced with two signs: "platforms 1-9: left" and "platforms 10-15: right" Great!



We somehow managed to get to platform 16 in time and then learned that the train is going to split after leaving the central London area. "The first four carriages are heading towards Worthing, the last eight carriages will be heading to (some place very very far off course)." But when they say "the first four carriages", where do they start counting? The signs contradicted the diagram which contradicted the numbers on the carriages which contradicted the man from British Rail we asked for help. Who contradicted himself by changing his opinion only seconds before the train took off. It turned out he (of course) placed us in the wrong part of the train which we noticed in the very last minute before we would have headed towards... well I don't know. Hell maybe?



But in the end we made it to Worthing and in front of the station there was Rory, the Crayfords former owner, already waiting for us.

Fourth leg: From Rory's to Westerham to Dover. Rory is a great guy who knows a great deal about Crayfords. He has been with the club for quite some time and owns a couple of Crayford convertibles which looked rather nice I must say. We enjoyed Rorys company very much and made plans to meet him at Goodwood in September, but we had to press on in order to do a little shopping and catch the ferry, so we turned our attention to the Crayford /8. It, of course, started up first time and felt really healthy as we set off and had to say goodbye to Rory way too early for our liking.



We then headed towards Westerham in Kent to meet Barry who is the long-term president of the Crayford Convertible Car Club. On the parking lot of the "Grasshopper Inn" Crayford took most of their pictures for their brochures. And it was the place where all Crayford employees had their pints after a hard day of work.



The former Crayford "factory" was just around the corner, the pictures taken at Squerryes Mede road show the place where almost all Crayfords were built, the house with the white 1st floor was the workshop. There was a garage-door at ground level and the window facing the street shows the location of the former construction office.

After half an hour of car talk with Barry we headed to a Waitrose and a Tesco where Christian stocked up on British ales and I bought basically one glass of every marmelade I could find, then we added potatoe chips and whatever you bring over from Britain. Good thing we brought an estate!

Fifth leg: Leaving Britain. The car perfomed absolutely fault-free and we arrived in Dover with time to spare.



We looked back and realised that at no point we even felt the need of looking under the bonnet. It had been a while since the car had seen a skilled mechanic, but it went smoothly. The list of faults compiled by now was pretty long, but nothing on it would stop us from arriving back in Germany. Things like unevenly balanced wheels, a disfunctional exhaust and a bouncy propshaft cannot stop a stroke-eight. Finally it was time to board the ferry and aknowledge that, sadly somehow, the car won't be returning to Great Britain for quite some time.



Final leg: Dunkirchen ferry terminal to Düsseldorf.



We refueled the car in France and pressed on through heavy rain, moaning. After midnight we arrived in Düsseldorf, exhausted but happy.





All in all we took a 36 year old car on the longest journey of its life with the only preperation being to bring tools and spares we did not even need. These cars are definetely built to last.