The Alfatross

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

Thursday, July 23, 2015

ReinCARnation (Post # 88)

Restoration of an automobile is as much a re-birth as it is a re-build. If The Alfatross could see, smell and hear, it might think that it is back in Zagato's workshop in Milano, 60 years ago--except that everyone is speaking English instead of Italian, of course, and their hand gestures are less . . . expressive. 

A restoration shop is a place of sensory contrasts, a place where things of delicate, ethereal beauty somehow miraculously emerge from the sturm und drang of shrieking power tools, endless thrumming of massive compressors, hissing air lines, crackle of welding torches and the cringe-inducing nails-on-chalkboard sound of hand filing.  A place where all verbal communication is delivered as a shout. Where handshakes are replaced by elbow bumps. Where the atmosphere is perpetually flavored with the aroma of strong solvents.  It's easy to imagine that the sensations in Zagato's shop, where The Alfatross was born almost exactly 60 years ago, were very similar.

Whether it's a piece of furniture, a house or a car, "Preparation is 95% of a good paint job." The Alfatross is living proof of that adage.  How do you get a car ready for a paint job?  Well, if it's your 1991 Toyota 4Runner with 250,000 miles on the clock, you hose it off, let it dry in the sun, buy a case of rattle cans, and have at.

But if it's a 1955 Alfa Romeo 1900C SS Zagato there are a few additional steps in between the "hose it off" and "have at" steps--like, about 18 months' worth! And don't even think about it if you don't have a few hundred thousand dollars worth of building stuffed with all the right equipment and spacious paint booths like the one at Vintage Auto Craft.


The body shell in paint.  The color was carefully chosen to match the original.  Tim Marinos.


The doors, hood, and boot are painted separately.  Tim Marinos.
Yes, the body shell looks good, but there's still a lot left to do before I can bring it back to The Shed in Santa Fe: The doors, hood, and trunk have to be painted, everything has to be baked, cured, sanded, and polished. The bottom, engine bay, trunk, interior and wheel wells have to be painted, each requiring a different finish. Then the grills, windows, and trim can be re-installed. 

In addition to the main body shell, which is all one piece, there are a number of essential panels that also needed removal, repair and repainting.  Some of them are quite intricately shaped. Here is the panel that defines part of the left front wheel opening. The hose that supplies fresh air to cool the exhaust manifold comes through the hole in the panel. Tim Marinos.

The area from the bottom of the firewall to the beginning of the enclosed drive shaft tunnel was originally covered by aluminum panels that protected the brake, clutch,  and shift linkages.  Tim had to fabricate new ones because the originals were lost long ago.  Tim Marinos. 
To keep the weight down, all the windows are Plexiglas except the windshield.  Fitting Plexiglas quarter windows to their frames is a tricky business.  Plexiglas scratches if you look at it too hard!  Tim Marinos.


If the cost of restoration seems exorbitant, stop and think about what it takes to get the job done.  The physical infrastructure, the financing, the time it takes to gain the necessary expertise in so many areas, the research, the knowledge, the connections . . . .  Everyone wants three things: Good, Fast, and Cheap, all of which are relative terms, and everyone knows that you aren't likely to get all three of these, but sometimes you can get two. When it comes to car restoration, in my experience if all you get is Good, be happy.  Be very happy.