Tanking Up (Post #146)

The Alfatross' gas tank shortly after removal.

Draining the tank to check for debris and to
ascertain its capacity.  

Beautiful, powerful engines are great. Flawless paint finishes, sumptuous interiors, jewel-like instruments, and state of the art brakes are all well and good but your're not going anywhere without gas and a tank to put it in. 

The Alfatross' gas tank appeared to be in pretty bad shape when I took it out back in 2004. All of the important openings such as the tank filler neck, the fuel level sender, the drain plug, the fuel line to fuel pump connection, overflow circuit, and vent were good as new. The hoses were shot, of course, and there was rust and even pitting on the tank's exterior. The interior of the tank was surprisingly busy with a complex of baffles around the fuel pick-up, but thankfully virtually rust free.

Once in place, the gas tank leaves little room for anything
else in the trunk.

Could there be undetectible pin holes that would later cause big problems?  I considered my options: make a new one?  Take it to a skilled welder in the hope that prophylactic reinforcing patches could be applied here and there? Or research gas tank interior sealing agents, pick a good one, and seal the hell out of it?

The copper fuel line was preventing the spare tire
from fitting properly in its recess next to the tank.
Note it is in contact with the tire. 

Having already sealed the gas tank for the '73 VW microbus with a product offered by POR 15 I decided on that approach.  After completing that process and giving the sealer weeks to set up, I should have plugged all the openings and filled it with some kind of fluid to (a) check for leaks, and (b) calculate its usable volume.  I should have, but I didn't. I was just as put off by the idea of filling it with water, even after sealing it, as I was filling it with many gallons of gasoline, which would mean handling a lot of a substance I have learned to keep contained and avoid contact as much as possible.  






So the gas tank ended up being installed and plumbed in just before the Arizona Concours in January 2016.  We put a few gallons in and everything was fine, but I was still dubious about its integrity.  A couple of weeks ago I decided to end the suspense and fill it to capacity.  But first I needed to drain it completely to see if there were any debris, rust fragments, traces of sealer, or other signs of something going wrong. To my great relief the filter in the funnel over the catchment tank was completely clean. 

I was suspicious that a leak had developed at the outlet
from the tank to the fuel pump, but repeated tests failed
to confirm that.

I started refilling the tank 5 gallons at a time and waiting at least a day between fills to check for slow leaks.  So far it is up to 15 1/2 gallons (about 59 liters), and the level is still several centimeters short of being "full" The official repair manual says the 1900 and 1900C models were equipped with 53 liter tanks and the 1900 TI model had a larger, 80 liter tank (21.2 gal.). These numbers are telling me that's what The Alfatross has, and the tank's rough dimensions, 61 cm x 68 cm x 21 cm = 90 L (23.8 gal) seem to confirm that. 

The new fuel line I made had a tortured shape, but
permitted the spare tire to sit upright.

So far my concerns that the tank might have a leak somewhere have proven unfounded. There remains a detectable aroma of gas in the trunk, but now I suspect it is emanating from a loose rubber seal at the filler cap, rather than the tank itself. 


The tank fills the trunk area from battery to tire, with little room to spare.  The radius in the bend of the copper fuel line we made to replace the broken original was too large, forcing the spare tire to sit at an angle, so I made another one with a tighter radius and that fixed the problem.  

But there is one thing I can't do anything about.  It comes with the territory. When the car is on the ground and the trunk lid raised as far as it will go, you have to get down on your knees, duck your head, contort your back, and dislocate your right arm to wiggle the spare tire out. One of The Alfatross' siblings whacked David Smith on the head with its trunk lid, during one such maneuver. The gash required several stitches to close. Oh, the inconveniences we suffer to live with such beautiful creatures!

The Princess and the Ploughman (Post #145)

Not afraid of heights. The VW on top of Hurricane Ridge in Olympic National Park, Washington state.

In 1973 war broke out in the Middle East. It really got my attention because the price of gas in the US—when you could find it—went from about 29 cents per gallon, to a panic-inducing 55 cents a gallon. At the time, I was driving a 1967 Mustang with a big V8 engine, not the most fuel-efficient vehicle on the planet. My father, always a glass is half-empty kind of guy, correctly concluded that the price of gas was going to continue to increase and encouraged me to get rid of the Mustang and acquire something more economical. Things did look pretty gloomy so I went car shopping. After paying the princely sum of about $4,000, I became the owner of a new, jaunty, blue and white 1973 VW “bay window” microbus/van/transporter. I wish I could explain why I ended up with that instead of a real car but whatever the logic was at the time, it is long forgotten now. 

Kor Smit, a hitchhiker we picked up outside Devil's Tower
Wyoming who rode with us all the way to Fairbanks. We
corresponded for many years afterward.  Anyone out
there know him?  Last known address was BARK 15, 9606
Kropswolde, Netherlands.

A few weeks later, the VW, a friend and I were on a road trip, the first of many.  The rather vague destination was Fairbanks, Alaska, 4,238.3 miles from the starting point in Chapel Hill, North Carolina. For you Europeans, that is pretty close to the distance from Chapel Hill to Milano all the way across the Atlantic Ocean and halfway across the Mediterranean. It actually turned out to be almost twice that distance because due to side trips and meanderings.

Passing through Tennessee one winter the VW and I were 
caught in an ice storm that encased him in hundreds 
of pounds of ice.  The passenger side windshield wiper 
broke off under the strain.

A few days into the trip we picked up Kor Smit, a Dutch hitchhiker.  He inspired us to relax the itinerary, to be more spontaneous, more adventurous, and to take time to meet people along the way instead of just racing to a destination. As soon as we started doing that, things got better.

On-the-road repairs like tightening the bolts on the CV
joints in a campsite in the Wind River Range were 
sometimes inconvenient, but ample ground clearance 
meant you didn't need a lift!

Among its many virtues, the VW displayed a talent for creating impressionistic artwork
such as this "landscape" that appeared on the sliding side door during a trip to Big Bend National Park in Texas.  A hybrid style somewhere between Claude Monet and Georgia O'Keef?  Photo by Bob Adams.

During the almost two months it took, the VW and I bonded, and 35 years later it is still in my garage. It changed my appreciation for what a car can mean. The VW wasn’t about looking good, going fast, or getting to a certain destination as rapidly as possible. It was about having experiences. When we finally made it to Fairbanks, it was kind of a let-down. Not much to see, not much to do. Actually, we couldn’t wait to hit the road again!  The memorable part was the journey, the people we met, the things we saw and did along the way, not the destination! 

One of those trips stands out in my memory because of how intimately it involved the three of us: me, the VW, and The Alfatross. It was in 1979 when the VW was 6 years old and already on its second engine. It wasn't just another road trip. It was do or die time. I was moving to Texas and if The Alfatross was going to survive, she had to come with us. There was no alternative. With 1.7 liter air-cooled engines boasting all of 67 HP VW microbuses were not built for towing, and 1955 Alfa 1900C SSZs were not built to be towed. It was a gamble, but it paid off, and the humble VW ploughman became the princess' hero. They spent the next 3 decades together, sharing the various garages and driveways where I lived as equals. Now she dominates The Shed, preening as her restoration is nearing completion while the ploughman who saved her is relegated to secondary storage space in The Shedlet.  

The VW is not a collector car by any measure and I certainly have no intention of restoring him to like-new condition. But I am going to keep him. After The Alfatross leaves us to take her rightful place among automotive royalty, I intend to muster the energy and find the time to get him back on the road.  Who knows, maybe we still have an adventure or two still left in us . . . .

The Princess and the Ploughman prepare to leave the safety of Hendersonville, North Carolina for the trip to College Station, Texas, 1,201 miles away.

Embrace Pessimism! (Post # 144)

Having finally solved The Alfatross' mysterious brake problem(s) after months of frustration with what I initially assumed would be a one-hour fix, it was now time to tackle installation of the new Quicksilver exhaust system (https://www.quicksilverexhausts.com/Products/ALFA%20ROMEO). That should be a very straight-forward process too, but after the experience with the brakes I steeled myself to be prepared for lots of unanticipated problems. 

The back half of the finished Quicksilver exhaust ready to mount.

With the Quicksilver system's 17 pieces already test fitted and welded into just two continuous sections, I thought I was all but finished. Then Luigi Ventura ("Gigi") alerted me to the fact that 1900C SS cars with 1975cc engines came from the factory with heat shields over the first set of "siamesed" mufflers . . . and protective covers over their master cylinders.  

The heat shield illustration in the Alfa parts
catalog. Note that the notch appears to be cut
into the driver's side of the shield.

Insulated panel Tim installed under the
floorboard on the driver's side.

I had seen an image of the muffler heat shield in the official Alfa parts catalog David Smith sent me, but never an actual example mounted on a car or otherwise.  After learning from David how hot the floorboard of his 1900C SS got when running, I asked Tim Marinos (http://vintageautocraft.com/) to build an insulated panel to cover the space directly underneath the driver's side, thinking maybe the heat shield would not be all that important. And where would I ever find one anyway? 

Galafassi's original master cylinder cover (top) and his
reproduction.  Paolo Galafassi.

The cover over the master cylinder struck me as more of an "automotive urban legend" because I thought I knew these cars as well as anyone and I had never seen or even heard of one.  Maybe it was something someone fabricated for a race or rally car, not a production item? 

Galafassi's reproduction of the exhaust shield flanked by the original examples that provided
the pattern.  Paolo Galafassi.

Then Gigi sent photos of multiple actual examples of both the heat shield and the master cylinder cover along with reproductions made by his friend Paolo Galafassi (https://www.classicvintagecar.it).  All of my skepticism vanished in an instant. These are not insignificant, minor items. They are functionally important parts that, given their exposed location and the necessity to remove them to work on the brake and exhaust systems, were almost invariably scraped off, rotted off, or removed and never replaced. No trace of The Alfatross' original exhaust heat shield remained, but the four threaded inserts in the chassis for the screws that held the original master cylinder cover in place were still there. The Alfatross would not be complete without these parts!

I knew from previous experience that photos of reproductions are one thing but the actual product can be a big disappointment. The high-dollar exhaust system I ordered from AFRA is a good example. It took them 9 months to make it, the build quality was terrible, and it did not come close to fitting. But Paolo's reproductions appeared to be  accurate and the prices quoted by Gigi were very reasonable, so I placed the order for both as well as some other parts offered on Paolo's website.  

Bottom side of the exhaust shield. Paolo
Galafassi.

Much to my relief, the parts arrived securely packed in less time than it takes for me to get parts from Atlanta for my old Toyota 4Runner.  After I sanded and painted the master cylinder cover and made a very slight adjustment to accommodate the emergency brake rod, it fit perfectly.  

Critical dimensions of the siamesed mufflers.

The master cylinder cover in place on The Alfatross.

I decided to leave the exhaust heat shield in "natural" aluminum, but to paint the clamps to match the exhaust system.  Even though I sent Paolo a diagram of the dimensions of the siamesed mufflers, I had misgivings about how well the shield would fit. I could readily see that its curved shape was necessary to clear the bulge in the center of the mufflers, but what was that notch on one side for?  And why was one of the clamps set in the center of the shield instead of diagonally opposite the other one? 

The shield came with holes drilled for one set of clamps and a suggested location for where the second set was mounted on the original shields, but Gigi cautioned that a different location might make a better fit, given that The Alfatross' Quicksilver system is not exactly like the original Alfa system and that the insulated panel Tim made might crowd the space above the mufflers. And which side did the notch go on? I could see a lot of ways this could go wrong.

The Quicksilver exhaust system, heat shield and master cylinder cover in place on The Alfatross.

Note that the notch in the heat shield allows access to three of the screws that hold the master cylinder cover in place.

With the Quicksilver system already mounted I carefully slid the shield in place with the notch facing the passenger's side. No problem with clearance. The pre-drilled clamp fit the exhaust pipe perfectly, and the second clamp lined up with the x's marking the holes for the factory location.  The reason for the notch was now obvious: it allows access to the screws that hold the master cylinder's cover in place!  A perfect fit on the first try?  This can't be happening!  

I sent Gigi photos of the heat shield and cover mounted on The Alfatross and asked if I had done it correctly and if he had photos of how other people had mounted it.  After pointing out that the Alfa parts catalog clearly shows the heat shield oriented with its notch facing the drivers' side (though not actually attached to the exhaust system), he made the observation: 

About exhaust shield there aren't original car pictures and consider that in this century there is only one man in the world mounting this extinct part : you. in fact the first cover reproduction in the world is yours.😄

Gigi, Paolo and I would love to hear from anyone out there who has photos of how the exhaust heat shields were mounted originally on 1900C SSs, but we are pretty sure we got this right because the fit is so effortlessly perfect.

The good thing about being a pessimist is that you are always either being proven right . . . or pleasantly surprised! 

Then a Miracle Occurs (Post #143)

The master cylinder got a lot of attention. 
Getting the big end off the cylinder  required
a really big socket with a 3/4 in. breaker
bar and a 3 ft."cheater" pipe.  The hardest
part was creating a wood cradle to protect
the main body.

The damn brakes finally started working.  Wish I could say exactly what the problem was and how I fixed it, but I can't.  Maybe it was an Act of God?

Having tried every trick I knew and every trick everyone else knew, and having tired of doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results, I tried the "Hail Mary Pass", also known as "Fire all your guns at once and float off into space."

It was a multi-prong attack addressing every part of the brake system from the wheel cylinders all the up to the fluid reservoir.  I disassembled, cleaned, inspected, primed, and reassembled everything, noting dimensions and volumes along the way.  I elevated the rear to coax any air that might be trapped to leave the system and readjusted the shoe-to-drum clearances.  I laid in a supply of fresh fluid. 

Bench testing the Alfatross' master cylinder. After a complete dismantling I wanted to make sure it was leak-free.  The black bar on the right applies pressure on the piston.  The spring scale indicates the force used (50 lbs).

As mentioned in several earlier posts, over time I became increasingly suspicious that something was wrong with the master cylinder.  The symptoms suggested that it might not be moving a sufficient amount of fluid out to supply all 6 wheel cylinders. But after taking it down to its discrete constituent parts and not finding any problems, I started to look at the length of the "pushrod" that transfers brake pedal movement to the piston inside the cylinder.  I noticed that the spare 1900 master cylinder Peter Marshall sent me was outwardly almost identical to The Alfatross', but one major difference was the length of its pushrod--almost 50% longer than The Alfatross'.  I tried to transfer it to The Alfatross' master cylinder, but its diameter and threads were entirely incompatible with the shackle and jam nut that mate to the end of the brake pedal.  The solution was to order a 12" length of  BSF 5/16 X 22 (50 degree) threaded rod, and cut it down to about 90 mm.  There is a mushroom on the end of the original pushrod that presses against the master cylinder's piston. To simulate it I attached a nut to the end of the new pushrod and ground it down to a shallow dome.

The Alfatross' original pushrod (top) compared to the new
longer pushrod before adding the dome on the cylinder
end and shackle on the other.

Not surprisingly, lengthening the pushrod raised the brake
pedal inside the car.  This will be adjusted later during
road testing. 

With all that behind me and The Alfatross on the lift, I started bleeding the system using the one-person technique I came up with.  It allows me to operate the brake pedal lever from under the car while preventing air from re-entering the system when pressure on the brake pedal is released.  As described earlier, I spent a lot of time trying to perfect the Motive Products approach of pressurizing the brake reservoir for bleeding, but I finally gave up. The Girling reservoir cap does not easily lend itself to modification, and the reservoir's location and flimsy manner of attachment further compound the difficulty.  

After so many disappointments, at this stage I was prepared for another one. But no--the pedal began to firm up!  The Alfatross has brakes at last!  

Let's not get carried away.  It is conceivable that the problem(s) could return.  But right now it is enough to know that the problem can be fixed!  The next hurdle is to get the exhaust system back on.  With brakes, the exhaust system, and a running engine we can start the road testing--just in time for the New Mexico winter!












troublesome rr wheel cyl bleeder valve wrapped in teflon

heated and bent wrench already filed to fit bleeders tightly


reservoir Motive Products cap adapter location of reservoir and the way it is mounted made it difficult