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Summer 2009, Car Chatter, Car Chatter
A Decision of the Heart – Restoring a Jaguar XJC
One of our "Car Chatter" pals from across the pond tells us of his '76 Jag.
A decision of the heart – restoring a Jaguar XJC
The advert showed a beautiful sleek red two door Jaguar – the hallowed XJC, among the most beautiful of the breed – sitting forlornly on a driveway. I knew, right then, it was waiting for me. Good condition, it said, with low mileage. Yes indeed, this was the one – and it was less than 20 miles away.
What I found, of course, was somewhat different: if good condition means “with large holes in the rear wings” and “four worn tires, rusted sills and a completely absent floor” and low mileage can be taken as 106,000 then there was no need to be concerned. Still, she was beautiful – but was $3,000 worth it?
For those who are not aware, the XJC was built in the mid 1970’s in small numbers, and is the two door version of the venerable XJ6 saloon. It’s a beautiful car, but suffered from quality issues, mainly as a result of having frameless windows. This one was somewhat less than great, but had a very sound 4.2 litre engine and good mechanicals.
In talking to the owner, he let slip something he shouldn’t have. He was an innkeeper, and was moving 600 miles away in two days time. It was time to sell the car for whatever he could get, or leave it behind.
I offered him everything I had in my wallet - $525. He called me every name under the sun (none of them my own), took the money and handed me the keys.
With that “exchange” I became the proud owner of a very tatty 1976 XJC – a Daimler-badged version – that, while running well and sounding sweet, needed new wings and sills, a new interior, and a new floor. And that was just the start of it.
Driving her home was a joy. She accelerated effortlessly, the automatic box changing up and down without a glitch, and the engine pulled beautifully and showed healthy oil pressure. The fuel gauge moved faster than the tachometer, however, but that is something you take for granted with these beauties.
I enjoyed it very much, for that would be the last time I drove her for eight months.
The rebuild
The first advice I would give anyone who decides to attempt a rebuild of a specialist car is this – don’t. As I know that will always fall on deaf ears, the second bit of advice is one that must be adhered to – join a relevant club.
The Jaguar Drivers Club proved to be absolutely essential in my quest to restore this mighty beast to her former glory, and were especially helpful in pointing out that the eight foot long one piece rear wings – of which one was needed – were not only practically impossible to find, but would cost twice what I paid for the car should I strike gold and discover one lurking somewhere.
As chance would have it I did just that. An old man my parents knew had been a garage proprietor past his 70th birthday, and then simply closed the place down when it got too much for him. The garage operation stood, as it was on the last day it opened, beside his house, and was a treasure trove of bits and pieces. As it happened, the old fellow died shortly after I bought the Jag, and I was invited to look around for any parts that may have been of use. The club described it as a miracle, but there – lying in wait alongside four perfect alloys from a car just like mine – was a passenger side rear wing: brand new, and still in primer. I could not have been any luckier.
Sourcing a new floor was simple, and it came from Jaguar itself. The XJC uses pretty much the same floor as the short wheelbase saloon version, and with a bit of cutting and shoving this proved to be the easiest of jobs. A friend of mine runs a body shop, and he helped with various tasks. The new sills, cut down from the saloon, the fitting of the rear wing, plus a full strip down of all the chrome, which I hoped to replace. This proved harder than I had thought, and even a junkyard visits and adverts in the club magazines failed to find the relevant rim. My friend managed to clean most of them up, however, and sourced new bumpers from a scrapped saloon.
While he set about the bodywork I concentrated on stripping out the wiring and replacing it, as well as fitting the new interior trim I had found at a show somewhere. Remarkably the seats looked like new with some treatment, and I began to wonder whether the mileage shown was not an exaggeration as, mechanically and in many ways otherwise, the car was in pretty good shape.
Seven months of toil down the line and several days of curses and blasphemy later, and she went for a paint respray. Out she came, resplendent in the original guards’ red, and with a brand new vinyl roof – essential to hide the cosmetic work that came with the original – looking absolutely stunning. All that remained was for me to fit the chrome trimmings and have her serviced.
The sadness of realization
Driving the Jaguar was like riding a magic carpet; however, it proved to be, as I had known deep down, a very expensive magic carpet. The twin fuel tanks cost a week’s salary to fill, but didn’t last a week of commuting, and while the insurance was low and I experienced few problems – she started first time, every time – I knew from the first time I drove her that this simply could not go on.
Selling her was the easiest part of the whole saga. I placed an advert in the club magazine and was besieged by telephone calls. I sold to a young man nearby, who arrived one sunny day and loaded her onto a trailer.
I was sad to see her go, and have often thought I should have kept her, and to console myself went out and bought the latest copy of my favorite classic car magazine. And there, in the classifieds, was an advert for a bright yellow Lotus Elite 501; good condition, low mileage, and not far away. I picked up the phone and….well, no, that’s another story!