Andy Cunningham

Arriving home late at night from the Quo concert, I noticed some liquid had dripped from under the car. I assumed it was condensation from the air-con drain, thought no more of it, and went to bed.

The drips were still visible the following morning.

I stuck my head under the car and saw a residue coating the rear chassis rail and adjacent area. Not good.

I turn the ignition key on, and liquid is dripping out.

Smelly liquid.

Diesel fuel, to be precise.

Even less good.

A bit of ferreting found a tiny pinhole in a diesel fuel line, that was jetting out fuel under pressure as soon as you turned the power on, never mind starting the engine.

We’re supposed to be in Guildford in 2½ hrs time.

Even less good.

I phoned the nearest Land Rover dealer in a panic. Parts department engaged. “Can I hold?” “Sorry, no, but here’s their direct number.”

Second try, get through, explain part that’s faulty. “It’s an assembly of 4 pipes and it’s £55″.

“Never mind that, have you got one?”

“Yes, sir, would you like us to reserve it?”

“Do I sound like a casual enquiry as to what the part number might be for future reference?” No, I didn’t say that, I said someone would be there to collect it within 30 minutes. Thank you, dear. Yvonne heads off, having tracked down the phone number of the Admiral of the Fleet (more on that later) to warn her that there may be a slight technical hitch.

So while my wife drove over to get the bits, I started to take the car apart. First challenge was figuring out the release clips on the end of a bit of pipe I could barely reach. Then I got the book out and worked out how to get at the other end. Remove 3rd row seats on RH side… remove side panel trim … undo 3rd row seat mounting panels …

Back to car. Undo 4 screws and pull. Carpet comes out from under the trim all around, to be refitted at a later date. Remove plate over fuel tank. 4 pipes, one of which is mine.

Need to wait for the love of my life to return.

Look up, and one of our neighbours is just driving off. I run after them…

“Dave, help, can I borrow you for 2 minutes?”

“Yeah, mate, no problem, what’s up?”. They’d have spent the morning helping me if necessary!

So with Dave’s help we identified the other end of the pipe (the green one) , disconnected it, and I went inside to clean up and await the arrival of The Part.

I call Yvonne, and she’s just collected it. “I took a few short cuts. Ten minutes after you get back and we’re ready!” “What have you done?” “Just pulled the carpet from under the trim, will take longer to refit this way, but moves the time to the refit stage, and I can do that next week sometime. See you soon. Kettle’s on”.

I’m standing by the car as she’s reversing into the drive, so she passes the part out the window to me, and I tear the packaging open like a kiddie at Christmas. By the time she’s cut the engine I’m under the car and it’s in place. Connect this end, back up at the top, connect the other end, run around to driver’s seat.

Now this is where it gets tedious. There’s a purge process you have to go through after getting air in the fuel lines. 15 seconds off, 30 seconds on position II. Repeat 6 times, floor the accelerator, and start it.

15 seconds is one screw back in place, 30 seconds is two. So I turn the ignition key, run round the car, fit two screws, back to the drivers seat, key off, back to the boot, next screw, back to driver’s seat, turn key, back to boot…..

You get the picture. By the time everything is screwed back into place, the purge is done, and I turn the key. And am rewarded by the delicate sound of the Td5 engine purring into life.

I run into the house. “We’re done, call the Admiral while I clear the crap up! Tell her we’ll be there by 1pm”.

Now we were supposed to be there for 12:30. So this is pretty impressive – doubly so considering we stopped on the way to get some sandwiches, and turned up with donuts all round!

Why were we in such a panic? Well, Yvonne’s employers had entered a team into the Guildford Lions’ Raft Race. And we were providing the transport for the raft. No car, no entry.

The connection to the previous post is that what’s actually on the roof raft is 2 aircraft drop tanks. Painted up to look like torpedos, ratchet strapped to a couple of ladders, and this is a raft: the Actimaran.

We arrive. We transport the draft and some of the crew down to the river Wey in Guildford, and basically spend the rest of the day larking about in the sunshine. They didn’t get placed this year, and we’re waiting for the full results.

But it’s the most fun I’ve had in a long time!!!

Andy