Page 46, para 3

Page 46, para 4

    Alan spent hour after hour hauling himself in and out of the cab trying to unplug or disconnect some electrical component or other, often ending in the most awkward of positions. Every now and again, having emerged from the car’s interior, he would peer from behind his glasses in a typically schoolmasterly way to question the relevance or otherwise of some obscure find.
    From time to time, while clutching some accumulation of wires that disappeared into the innermost abyss of the semi-destroyed car, his voice would echo across the barn.
    “What do I call this?” he enquired on one occasion.
    “Oh, that’s the thing that locks the doors when you put the car into gear,” I said.
    “OK, but what should I call it?”
    “Well... what about ‘auto-doorlock’?” I suggested, trying to sound as intelligent as possible to these experts in their chosen fields.
    “Why not? Sounds good enough to me,” came his reply, at which he un-plugged and marked the item with a tag, stating what it was and from where it had come. He then bundled the part into a clean clear plastic bag and securely tied the top – and so it continued.
    The idea of using clear plastic bags, of which our company had an ample supply as packaging material, was to combine easy visual accountability with best possible insulation from dust and damp. In effect, this optical filing system was the quickest way to locate a particular component when needed, either to refurbish or to re-fit, especially those items whose description was not easily put to words.
    When Alan had removed all the individual components from under the bonnet, from in the cab and from the trunk area, he began removing the individual looms. He arranged these on a large eight-foot by four-foot sheet of chipboard approximately as they were positioned in the car, fixing each loom in place with nylon cable ties onto strategically placed nails. This was critical, as whatever was disassembled now had to be fully understandable when it came to putting everything back together – at a much later date, and into a much-altered car. Eventually, he dragged the main wiring loom from under the dashboard only to discover, much to his slight horror, that it weighed nearly a hundred pounds. At this point he was undoubtedly beginning to realise that some ‘motorcar’ electrics were not so simple after all.
     Unquestionably, when taking stock, some very clever people had been at work during the design of the Seville’s electrics. Not only was the car a very complex piece of machinery but, being just prior to computerisation, which effectively made components smaller and simpler, was possibly the most heavily wired car ever produced. There were any number of automatic functions, virtually all with optional manual overrides and often with variable settings – to say nothing of the one-way diodes in certain circuits placed there to prevent ‘back tracking’ into others!

Page 46, last para

    While Alan concentrated on the electrics, Bruce steadily removed all the non-electrical components. He bagged everything up, anything from crude metal bracketry to pristine interior trim, and either hung the particular item on the wall at the back of the barn or carefully placed it on one of Archie’s two flatbed trailers that sat in the alcove opposite the entrance. Everything had to be stored in such a way that no one part damaged another during their long hibernation. Permanent indents on dashboard fascias or marked or torn seats would be of little help when extolling the virtues of a ‘one off’ created by a bunch of non-motor professionals.
    When Bruce struggled out of the cab with the steering column, complete with its porcupine-like protruding levers and a throng of Alan’s tags attached to its dangling wires, I seriously wondered when, and if, the device would ever again be used to direct or manoeuvre a resurrected machine. All one could was soldier on and hope.
    Later that day, Jack arrived with his portable crane to remove the engine and transmission, at which, for some inexplicable reason, we became like a bunch of overgrown kids. In our state of child-like euphoria, I guess we thought we were just dismantling a toy, although rather larger than any of us would have had in our youth. Fortunately, someone or something kept us on course and we continued to bag up everything in an orderly and businesslike fashion. 
    And so for two full weekends this innocent charade continued, albeit efficient and productive, until HLN 827V was stripped down to the barest of bare shells.

Page 48, para 3

    As soon as the denuded shell was ensconced in Des’s workshop, Terry began recording a list of reference points using their super-accurate, multi-position measuring jig – many thousands of pounds worth. He bolted the device, with its two sets of adjustable metal pointers that extended up from respective left and right sliding arms, securely to the underside of the stripped out monocoque. Then, one at a time, each to the nearest millimetre, he recorded a comprehensive list of essential reference points, on the right, on the left, the front, the back and underneath.
    Each point related to specific position on our tenth-scale plans and would be needed for the ‘cutting up’ and re-positioning of the sections of the monocoque, as well as to ensure that no distortion or mis-alignment occurred while doing so. This long and tedious task often necessitated the double-checking of corresponding points on opposite sides that appeared not to match up. Some eventually did, others, although very similar, did not: presumably they were just minor variations that, during the final design and tooling stage when first produced, were considered to be of no relevance. In time, and to our unhappy disbelief, as ‘Sidetracked’ explains, we discovered the reasons.

Page 58, para 6

    During the early design stage, I recall thinking that many of our ideas, once evaluated, seemed to be so simple and so obvious. Yet, when the time came, could we be sure they would work? For instance, we were so pleased when we located a manufacturer who could form truck springs to be used as bumpers; but we gave scant thought as to how difficult spring steel would be to drill, cut, or chamfer at the edges. I remember there being similar delight when finding a foundry that could cast ballast-inducing lead into the front bumper brackets, and even into the half-chassis if needs be; but again, no proper thought was given to the complications this might cause to neighbouring components and their fixings.
    With so many doubts and with the steady onset of a recession, surely, if we had been remotely sensible, we would have called the project off. Why did we not? Well, not only, against all likelihood, had Des performed a most professional job on the structure, but also, and more importantly, it was all just too exciting – as amply stated in ‘Sidetracked’, it really was, in so many ways, a true case of ‘boys and toys’.