The Alfatross

The Alfatross
The Alfatross in 1965 and 50 years later in 2016

Sunday, December 15, 2013

All It Takes Is Time and Money (Post # 46)

More than 11 months ago I wrote in the second post to this blog: 
In December 2012, I was contacted by two different parties within days of each other who wanted to buy my car.  Both  needed a Zagato-bodied Alfa Romeo 1900 to add to their collections and both had been looking for such a car for more than a year.  It slowly dawned on me that I had the car, the workshop, the time, and now buyers.  Could 2013 be the year I free myself at last of the Alfatross?  That revelation was the genesis of this blog.  Starting January 1, 2013,  I am going to do my best to finish the restoration this year and document my 44 years of its ownership over the next 52 weeks.
People with experience in automotive restoration told me that the goal of restoring a car as old and rare as The Alfatross in one year was wildly optimistic--and they were right!

And this wasn't even the Alfatross' first rodeo . . . .

The Alfatross some time in the early 60s when it belonged to its fifth owner, Pat Braden.  Alfa Romeo All-alloy Twin Cam Companion 1954-1994.
There are many potential pitfalls in any restoration project, most of them triggered by the lack of time or money or both.  Pat Braden, Alfa enthusiast and author of seven books on Alfas, Ferraris, and Weber carburetors, put it this way in Alfa Romeo All-alloy Twin Cam Companion 1954-1994:
An overestimation of one's skills has ruined more cars--very valuable cars--than any other single cause.  The surest way to destroy a car is to present it to a starry-eyed new owner who sees himself, only several weeks hence, standing with a 100-point car while all sorts of nubile females throw themselves on him and/or his car.  It happened to my 1900 Zagato.

He goes on to recount how he sold his 1900C SS Zagato to a law student and enthusiast who decided on a "total" restoration, and laments that "like so many candidates for restoration, it remained apart for many years and changes hands several times."   The picture he paints is undoubtedly intended as a cautionary tale rather than a carefully-researched account, and as such his advice is well-grounded in experience.  But the subject car is none other than The Alfatross!  I am its only "subsequent owner," and it was never apart for many years.  The law student was my cousin, Bo Bricklemyer, and if you are so inclined you can read more about it in the January 19th, 2013 post.     

The Braden 1900 Zagato some time in the early '60s (seen with a BMW 328, 6C Alfa Romeo and a Frazer-Nash).   Alfa Romeo All-alloy Twin Cam Companion 1954-1994.

I corresponded with Braden as early as 1973.  He was extremely helpful and wrote down everything he could remember about the car, including the names of the two previous owners, Will Henderson and Paul Turner.  In his last e-mail message to me days before he died in 2002 (the same year the book these quotes were taken from was published) he wrote:

It's nice to know where my old Zagato went.  It was my absolute all-time favorite Alfa, and I've owned 6C and 8C pre-war Alfas.
Maybe he was thinking of The Alfatross and I when he wrote the concluding paragraph in his chapter on automotive restoration: 
Very few people are capable of "total" restorations, emotionally, physically, or financially.  The tragedy--for many valuable Alfa Romeos--is that many people image that they are capable of completing such a project themselves. 

Having fallen into every pit imaginable and still managing to extricate The Alfatross, I consider myself amply qualified to elaborate on this theme.  I may not always have done right by my car, but I got the most important part right: I kept it.  The Alfatross had 6 owners during its first 14 years, but only one for the last 44.  If would-be restorers were to ask my advice I would admonish them to:   

  1. Keep It.  However you managed to acquire your car, hold on to it!  Store it properly until you are well and truly prepared to take it to the next level.  This will likely require some sacrifice.  There were many occasions when The Alfatross and I came close to being separated. A worthless car that didn't run and placed a burden on my meager finances, it was during this time that it became known as The Alfatross.  Between 1969 and 1993 I moved and relocated it at least 9 times.  In 1991 I began to notice that something had changed.  Now it was starting to appreciate in value. People began making offers to buy it.  I was tempted to sell to Martin Swig, a well-known collector and enthusiast who came to see the car and offered to buy it on the spot.  But somehow I couldn't quite part with it. Now, of course, I'm glad I kept it all those years, but a positive outcome was never certain.
  2. Keep It Together.  It's easy to lose parts.  Casual disassembly over a long period is to be avoided. Keep it in one piece. Keep all documentation, related paperwork and photographs together.  Keep a log of everything you do and spend related to the car.  Don't trust your memory.  It is important to remember the archaeologist's mantra: If you didn't write it down, it didn't happen!
  3. Research It.  Learn everything you can about the car's story, who the marque specialists are, what level of restoration is most appropriate, and what it is likely to cost.  Don't wait until you are finally ready to work on the car.  People die, records are lost or destroyed, part sources are depleted.  Don't wait 40 years like I did to try to get in touch with the original owner only to learn that he recently passed away.  This part of the restoration doesn't cost much or tie you up for weeks on end--and it's fun!

    I intended to dive right into an end-of-the-year overall update on progress made restoring The Alfatross in 2013, but that will have to wait for the next post.  Obviously, the project will fail to meet the original goal of being substantially completed by December 31st, but I am satisfied--well, mostly satisfied--with the progress made so far.  All it takes is time and money!

    Monday, December 9, 2013

    Re-What? (Post # 45)

    "Authenticity" and  "originality" are such a disarmingly simple words.  The English language contains a number of different terms with similar, but distinct, meanings having to do with the concept of saving, or improving, or copying something that existed previously.  Words like Restoration, Replication, Reproduction, Reconstruction, Re-fabrication, Remanufacture, Replacement, and Rebuild allow a lot of wiggle-room for interpretation.  The terms can apply on a micro scale to a single object like a nail, or on a macro scale to an assembly of thousands of objects, such as a entire ship or car.

    Archaeology

    As marine archaeologists we encounter the "re" words all the time when people try to "replicate" things that existed in the past.   Consider "The Ship of Theseus Paradox":  Two thousand years ago the the Greek writer Plutarch used a ship to raise the question of what's real, and what's REALLY real--and we've been scratching our heads over this conundrum ever since.

    A "replica" of an ancient Greek merchant ship based on the remains of a ship that wrecked about 2,500 years ago.  Wooden Shipbuilding and the Interpretation of Shipwrecks.
    I'm sure the readers of this blog are abundantly familiar with the ancient Greek mythological hero Theseus who saves Athenian boys and girls from being sacrificed to the Minotaur, a half-human, half-bull monster. Plutarch tells us what happens next:

    "The ship wherein Theseus and the youth of Athens returned had thirty oars and was preserved by the Athenians down even to the time of Demitrius Phalereus, for they took away the old planks as they decayed putting in new and stronger timber in their place, insomuch that this ship became a standing example among the philosophers for the logical question of things that grow; one side holding that the ship remained the same and the other contending that it was not the same."

    So people who have been collecting old things have been asking themselves what is real and what is REALLY real for at least 2,000 years.  One of the goals of maritime archaeology is to figure out what ancient ships looked like and how they performed.  We use methods very similar to those used by the most rigorous car restorers.  If you want to find out about something that existed in the past--the Spanish caravel of the 16th century in this example--you have five avenues of research to follow for accurate information:

    Avenue of Research #1: Artistic (or photographic) representations, like this very detailed drawing of three ships off Dover, England, in the early 1500s.
    Avenue of Research #2: Written records and descriptions,
    like this list of equipment on board Columbus' ship
    La Nina in 1498.  National Geographic Magazine.
    Avenue of Research #3: Archaeological evidence (actual remains of original examples), like this main mast step of an early 16th- century shipwreck in the Bahamas.  KC Smith.
    Avenue of Research #4: Examination of traditional methods of manufacture that still survive, like these shipwrights in Bahia, Brazil, shaping hull planks by hand.  Ships of Discovery.
    Avenue of Research #5: Recreation of the subject using all four of the research avenues above to test and refine its performance, such as this seaworthy recreation of Columbus' caravel, Santa Clara.  Ships of Discovery.

    Carchaeology

    I mention this parallel between archaeology and carchaeology not only to reassure readers that "I get it" when it comes to those seemingly simple words "authentic" and "original," but also that I am aware of the enormous gaps between words like "replica" and "reproduction," words that most people blithely use interchangeably.  

    The passion for collector cars is at an all-time high.  The prices some cars obtain can be stratospheric, but there are rules for assigning values . . . well, more like guidelines, really.  One of the rules is that "original and authentic" cars are the most highly valued.  But that's not always true.  Consider the case of Tom Merkel's "Car Garden," a work in progress since 1973 that now includes at least 1,200 cars, give or take a few hundred.

    Part of the 1,200-car Merkel collection.  Midnight in the Garden of Eldorados and E-types. Car and Driver.
    When adding to his collection, Tom doesn't look for anything in particular, just old, used-up, motor vehicles of any type in any condition.  He doesn't restore the cars in his collection and he doesn't sell them.  That's not the point.  I don't understand the point, either, so I'll let him explain:

    "The massive 20th-century time-capsule monument project, the Lost Highway [part of the Car Garden], came about by happenstance . . . .  The work in progress is basically the 20th-century equivalent of the Chinese clay soldiers.  The cars are as if they were pages from hundreds of family albums.  The vehicles from police impound often still have their owner's belongings in them.  Eighty percent of the old rides were on 'death row' and were bought for scrap.  To me they were three-, four, and  five-thousand pound sculptures a person could buy for 200 bucks in the 1980's."

    But for all the Car Garden's rich authenticity and originality, it just continues to get older--not more appreciated, more widely recognized, or more valuable. Evidently, it isn't enough just to be original.  There has to be more to it.  If cars are like shipwrecks, the "more to it" is the richness, detail, and depth of their story.

    Now take a look at  the other side of the coin--the side where authenticity and originality translate into millions of dollars.  In Dave Kinney's "Insider" column in the November issue of  Octane magazine I ran across this tidbit having to do with the confusion that often arises when trying to establish "originality" for race cars that are sometimes crashed, rebuilt, recommissioned, modified, re-bodied, crashed again, scrapped, rediscovered, and restored:

    "The back-story of this 1955 Jaguar D-type: buy one car claiming to have this car's serial number then, to alleviate the problem of another car having the same serial number, buy that as well.  Take all the original bits from both and put them back into the car.  Stamp each important bit and panel of the copy with the word 'replica' in hidden areas.  Sell it on at a replica price, then present the  real thing here.  It [chassis number XKD 530] achieved $3,905,000 (RM Auctions, Monterey, California, 16 August 2013."


    1955 Jaguar D-type chassis XKD 530 . . . or one of them . . . .
    At some point the definition of and quest for originality, whether it be an ancient ship or an historically significant automobile, becomes more of a philosophical issue than a practical one.  The Alfatross is an exercise in achieving a balance between preserving the soul of a machine, while returning its appearance to the way it looked in 1955, and improving its mechanical functions when possible to extend its life.  So which "re-" is that?  It seems to me that several distinct processes are involved.  The engine is being rebuilt.  Parts of the upholstery will be replicated while other parts will be restored.  Various rubber parts have been reproduced. A few original parts such as the thermostat that operates the shutter in front of the radiator will be simply replaced with new old stock.

    So, like the Ship of Theseus, it can be argued that The Alfatross  is original--or that it is not--depending on which side of Plutarch's paradox you prefer.