Gérard Le Clerc's  Rolls-Royce Silver Dawn SNF95

Once upon a time that one day I would own a car and it was crystal clear that it would be a Rolls-Royce. I'm sorry you Bentley Boys; I really cannot say why it should be so, but it was always clear to me that this was the way it was going to be.

In August 1999 I was on my way to see a friend when I passed by a used car lot and found myself being STARED at by a Rolls-Royce, looking very sorry for herself and not at all prim and proper. My heart jumped and I realized instantly that she had decided to come home with me. What could I say? Well, I didn't say or doing anything for the next five months:

"I tried to forget her smile but she read my eyes and her heart was wise"

But how could I possibly buy her? I had never owned a car, even though I have driven since I was 16 years old, and after all, it is Kings, Queens, Presidents and Dictators who are allowed to buy these magnificent beauties and not musicians, (least of all 'cellists, which is what I am) so what WAS I going to do?

For a while I tried to tell myself that it could never become a reality and that after all, even if I was of Royal descent I have to have a lot of that rare, exotic substance that people call money; so it was really all out of the question. Speaking to the seller I realized that this would really cost lots of the aforementioned stuff and that I would have to play faster and louder on my 'cello than I had ever done before to try and make this miracle happen. Then to my horror he said he thought he might just "let my kids play with it in the garden"!   So with everyone saying that I had done the RIGHT thing by not buying, I decided not to do the RIGHT thing, but the ONLY thing that I could do to save my sanity and escape from the turmoil that was robbing me of sleep.

Someone once told me that if ever you REALLY want something and don't have the necessary funds, put everything you have in a big bag in small Bank Notes and try your luck, so on my birthday I decided to try MY luck.

Miss Rolls-Royce Silver Dawn SNF95 began to turn her clock back as the restoration process started. EVERYTHING had to be looked into. I had no idea where to start and still less where it all might end, but I had jumped into this very deep end of the pool without hesitation and with every intention of saving this damsel-in distress.

The front suspension had rotted away due to age and lack of use of the poorly adjusted One-Shot system, as well as the usual places towards the rear wheels that needed attention. Initially, I had the suspension attended to, fitting all new King Pins and lower bearing yoke assemblies to the front, and had the rear springs reset, brand new Wefco gaitors fitted and new shackles. I thought that would be all that I needed to have done, but after some months I realized the awful truth: 50 odd years of life had left her gasping for breath. Biting the bullet, I made the tough decision to go all the way and have the motor and transmission overhauled. Assuming that the engine would only need to be renovated once, I engaged the services of an Englishman in a neighbouring Swiss town to undertake the work. He claimed to specialize in such vehicles, and was convincing in his sales pitch. He later admitted that he had never touched a car like mine before. The transmission was given to a local Geneva shop which made similaclaims. I did some detailed research, and was convinced of the merit of fitting full length cylinder liners with new standard 3 5/8" bore pistons from JP Pistons in South Australia.

With the motor removed and dismantled, the noble parts were shipped to another nearby town for machining and balancing. With the bores back to standard and the mains and big ends ground to minus 0.010", I was confident of a perfect result. I spared no expense, including all new bearings, valves, seats and guides, along with numerous overhauls from the radiator to the water pump. I even had a fully overhauled final drive fitted. The first cracks in my decisions soon appeared however. The main restorer decided to move his workshop to grander premises and my project was sidelined. I even physically helped the move, but the months passed. Soon a year had passed, and my patience was waning along with the demands for hefty progress payments. Finally, my beauty was returned to me running beautifully I thought, but crack number two soon appeared: negligible oil pressure.

Broken-hearted I returned my car to the restorer. After removing the sump, the garage proclaimed that the big ends were the wrong size, a claim now seen to be very unlikely after more recent events. I patiently waited six more months and finally the car came back home very silent and running beautifully, but I was charged a very high price for the rectification. I was oblivious of the smoke from the exhaust: we later found that no valve stem seals had been fitted!

In October 2002 I proudly drove it to the town of Aarau, 250 Km away for an RREC technical day at the State's vehicle testing station. I had the car over the pits and was intrigued to meet an Australian guy peering up at the internals. I asked him what he was interested in, and he explained that my car was almost identical to his own R/type Bentley. I was interested in his ramblings, so visited his home the next day. After driving a few yards, he said that the transmission was in shocking tune, and promptly adjusted the bands and using my special tools, then adjusted the throttle linkage. The improvement was instant and astonishing, but he said to my dismay that it was still way below par, probably due to Cadillac clutch plates being fitted by some scoundrel. He also adjusted the steering box and removed 3' of play inherent since it had been overhauled, and tuned the huge servo lag from the brakes.

We left it at that for then and I was delighted to drive home with such wonderful improvements, and returned a month or so later for the RREC Christmas Party in Zurich. With great anticipation I approached Zurich in very cold weather, and then felt sick. There was a huge knock developing in the motor 15km from my destination. I rang my friend and stuck the phone near the motor, and he was very worried that a piston had failed. Unfortunately he was correct..

With the motor dismantled and with the Engineer's reports to support me, I claimed for repairs from the restorers, but they refused to participate. The car languished in a commercial Zurich storage for nine months until my friend finally convinced me to take action than to wait years for the court ruling which I won only recently.

I agreed and we planned the work after a precision measurement of the components. We determined that the failure was caused by insufficient bore clearances, coupled with cold weather and the use of straight 50W vintage engine oil as recommended by the restorer to reduce the thick blue oil smoke. The bores were all 3.2650", dangerously below the minimum recommended 3.6265", causing the cold seizure just after overhaul. The lucky side was the ideal undersize to refinish the bore using just a finishing hone to achieve the proper cross hatched finish. I ordered a new set of pistons from South Australia: they arrive at (:00 on Monday after ordering them at 5 pm the previous working day on the Friday, and we awaited the other spares from the UK while my friend fitted modern teflon valve stem seals to the cylinder head.

We took the vehicle to pieces to a rented workshop, and promptly started the honing, cutting through the glazed bores and carefully measuring them to achieve the ideal diameter. Afterwards reassembly went smoothly, and I was as surprised as the workshop landlord to drive home the next evening in resurrected Silver Dawn. We shall re-visit a few aspects of the motor before long, but it is definitely running beautifully. In 2004 I drove it to the UK and the trip was marvelous. She regularly wafts me to the South of France too.

An old car that looks old is no fun in my book so in the true "cows and trees"  form, I had new leather, broadcloth, Wilton (flying) carpets and wood veneer redone to make everything look extra smart,
To start with I made another trip to the UK to  Frank Dale and Stepsons and spoke to Mr Ivor Gordon to see what the original colours might have looked like, for SOMEBODY had re-dyed the seats and getting out of it in the summertime left red and LOTS of it on ones back (and one's backsides as well!). Is this a Rolls-Royce type kiss??

Ivor Gordon at Frank Dale's remembered my car having passed through their hands about 29 years ago; in fact their nameplate is still on the bottom of the farside door.  This is what the colour should be he said, showing me a swatch of heartstoppingly beautiful red (in a blue blood R-R?) but hastened to add "don't forget that after the war Connolly was not quite as beautiously refined as today's so why don't you think of a slightly thicker cut from elsewhere", and so I did and am rather pleased with the results.  I started with just the front seats and, as you all know, one thing leads to another and the whole inside found itself under siege, (I cannot abide by things HALF done!)

The Broadcloth came from a Trader outside Geneva and fits the bill admirably along with the Wilton carpets, all this having been brilliantly fitted by my upholsterer. I don't know about you but Sheepskin over-rugs makes me feel as though I am in a bathroom or loo and so it is for this reason I opted for Iranian woven rugs: real flying carpets for a real flying lady. (and they WERE  of greatest necessity and if you gents don't know why, just ask your wife if she would like a red carpet at home. Of course she will not because she will know that every micro-molecule shows up in the most distressing manner....)

I did take the precaution to ask my upholsterer to be industrious especially in the morning, knowing that his penchant was for a liquid lunch....(!) The door panels were perhaps the most fiddly bits, owing to their many small bits that must come together to make a harmonious whole. I was able to locate a toolkit box that goes under the driver's seat and good friend Struan Erskine from Introcar came up with the essential rear blind, for without no Rolls-Royce can possibly be, you DO understand?

Oh yes, and the WOOD! Acres and acres of decimation of the most beautious  wood  forests known to man were re-finished with anti UV protection and for me this is one of the heartthrobs with this auto. With everything looking so good on the inside it's rather difficult (and boring) to have a look at the OUTside.

I feel a little bit sheepish when I explain to people the delicious joy that I had with the renovation of the boot. Basic but beautious black was chosen of course, and I decided to integrate two extra tool/book/polish compartments (holding together via Velcro of course) so that I could have every essential accessory hidden but present without it looking like 'just a boot to hold things' Wow.

Oh yes, I couldn't help buying and for the ever so infinite sum of 75 French Francs (pre euro days) a simple but smart bar made in the fifties, to keep everyone happy also redone in that heartstopping red that even contains a deck of playing cards with the R-R logo, just to keep everybody enthused. (these were given to the workers in Crewe in the 1950's to pass the lunch hour break I've been told).

Someone told me recently: "You've got to have LOTS of Rolls-Royce grill out there to go to such great efforts to get things right" and this brings me to the question of why I just had to have this car. It is, I now know and without a doubt, that the sum total quality of the beauty far outweighs the sum total weight of the pieces that go into it, and this brings to me a further thought: BEAUTY IS MORE THAN SKIN DEEP.  It is true that I bought this Silver Dawn for its sheer beauty of design, and it is now also true that I hold onto this dream of a car, or magic carpet if you will, because of the astounding way in which the mechanics of the car are designed and the way in which they operate.

It is strange, but in the music world we all use the same twelve tones, and yet through those tones we create visions of cultures that are completely different from others. What is it that makes British music BRITISH and American music AMERICAN? I am not a mechanic, although my father was, but there is the strangest sound to be heard, (just barely) when one listens to the mechanism of a really beautifully fettled motor of a Rolls-Royce. Hmmmmmmm...

A friend of mine the other day said that it was strange: one DRIVES a Bentley, but one OWNS a Rolls-Royce, and from where I stand (sit) I would agree. It really is like a magic carpet, (although I think that maybe, just MAYBE, a tyre -I don't know which one- MIGHT have touched the Tarmac last month.!) and like a masterpiece of music, it intrigues, captivates and makes everything somehow worth the while. The driving experience is always a huge event; being the musician that I am I realize that any really great event like this is the conjugation of so many smaller but perfect details all leading up to the summit and from up here on top one can easily see the view is truly Rolls-Roycean!

Next on her 'beauty agenda' shall have to be a repaint, and since her godfather Richard Treacy insists on seat belts it looks as though they will find a place on board as well. So this remarkable car has taken me down many paths these last years and even onto the internet to get all the way there, as well as getting to know new and oh-so-interesting people like Norman Geeson, Richard Treacy, Ashley James, Stephe Boddice, Bill Coburn and so many others. By the way I recently read that the fabulous and magnificent 'cellist       Jacqueline du Pré had used a Phantom II at one period of her life. She was one of the greatest 'cellists of all time and being my teacher I think that perhaps this is a lesson I can well take advantage of! Who said that only Kings, Queens etc.....?