Post by CrazyBrit on Oct 20, 2014 20:55:00 GMT -8
This is the story of my right hand drive, 1957 CKD (Completely Knocked Down) 11 window kombi. It is quite a long one, so you might want to crack a cold one and find a comfy seat.
I found the bus through a chap called Bobby (prior to my days of surfing eBay or The Samba), who I had met at a UK VW show a few years earlier and who imported Aussie V-Dubs into the UK. I was actually after a walkthrough model, as I thought it would be better for camping, but he said that he knew of a solid '58 that was located near Melbourne. It had the licence plate Kool VW and allegedly belonged to a Greek gentleman - not sure how true the Greek bit is, but I do have an old photo somewhere with the licence plate though! It turned out to be a '57 and was structurally every bit as good as he promised. The mechanicals were not quite as good....
It then travelled to London, England, where it was impounded by Her Majesty's Customs & Excise, because Bobby had been a bad boy and forgotten to tell the tax man that he was importing vehicles as a business to sell to other people, and not just for his own personal use. I worked on the cruise ships at this point in my life, so by the time Bobby sorted out his problems with the tax man, I was away on a four month contract. So, in stepped my good old Dad.
Dad checked the bus out for me, paid Bobby the balance of the price and set off on a rather eventful, and therefore protracted journey, to my parents home in the North East of England. This journey would take around 6 hours in a modern vehicle, but took Dad around double that in the Split. Whilst filling up with gas somewhere in London, he noted some oil on the ground in the gas station. His first thought was that someone was losing a lot of oil. Yep, it was him. It was pouring out of the engine. So, armed with a can of fresh oil, he set off again, stopping frequently to top up the black stuff. As it began to get dark, he noticed that the waves, honks and flashing of lights had become more frequent. He stopped and discovered that the traffic honking their horns and flashing their lights weren't just saying "cool bus"! He had no rear lights. My Dad is quite a resourceful chap, so he strapped his Maglite into the rear offside lense with electrical tape and continued on, changing out the batteries every hour or so. There was also the problem of headlight alignment. One was pointed at the ground a few feet ahead of the bumper, and the other was searching for aircraft WW2 style.
He practically rolled it into the garage after the engine began depositing it's oil in very significant quantities during the last 10 miles or so - it had been leaking quite nicely for the entire journey before this. My mother heard him approaching from around 5 miles away.
It lived in the North East until shortly after I emigrated to Canada, and in November 2006 it once again headed South and onto the ocean. I picked it up in Tacoma WA and then drove it on a less eventful trip home to Nanaimo. Our only problems were driving the wrong way down a one way street in Seattle and then a puncture on the ferry. My Dad was driving my KG on the same trip for me and managed to get totally lost in the middle of Seattle. He found a local cop who was actually walking down the street (yes, I know, unbelievable, but true!), who sent him in the correct direction towards our hotel.
Although the bus has not seen any real mileage since arriving in Canada, it was well used in the UK. I drove it to VW Action, Vanfest, Southampton (7 - 8 hours from my parent's place in a normal car!), the English Lake District and many other places. I even, unintentionally, drove it in the snow once. It handled pretty well, although the 6v wipers weren't much use at keeping the screens clear. I think that it actually broke down on around half the times that I took it out. I think that the most eventful trip was the time that we were going camping in the English Lake District, around 120 miles from my parent's place. We managed around 8 miles before it stopped. The AA attended and pronounced a faulty coil. Of course, he didn't carry coils for vehicles as old as this these days.... So, my Dad picked one up and brought it out to me. We fitted it up and headed home, with the intention of starting again the next day. The next day we managed around 30 miles, before it conked out again. Once again, the AA attended and pronounced.... a dead coil. Good old Dad made the trek out to rescue us again, as the AA still didn't carry coils for old vehicles. This time we made it to the West coast, before the engine overheated (something to do with cruising in the fast lane at 70mph plus. I say plus, because that is as far as the speedo goes!). Once it cooled down, we managed to limp onwards to our campsite. When we arrived, I went to check in, but when I climbed back into the bus, it wouldn't start. Fortunately, our camping spot was downhill, so I put it in neutral and coasted down the hill to our spot in silence, much to the amusement of my somewhat (!) patient wife and the other campers... The next morning, we got in, turned the key and drove off. I still don't know what was wrong. We had no further problems that trip, other than the brand new front wheel brake cylinder leaking it's fluid all over the front drum as we drove home through the mountain passes. It made it to the top of the pass. The photographic proof is on the left in my avatar! That's my Dad's old 1990 bronze Audi 80 parked next to it. After this camping trip we joked that we would always carry a camping chair and a cold Diet Coke in the back of the bus for my wife, whilst we waiting for the breakdown recovery.
This photo (above) was taken at the top of Kirkstone Pass, in the Kirkstone Pass Inn car park in the English Lake District. The road up to the Inn was so steep that I had to drive the bus up in 1st gear. It was running a 1600cc DP, with the original big nut transmission and 1500cc reduction boxes.
Camping near Ambleside, English Lake District.
You can just make out the winding single lane road in the background. This is the road I drove up in first gear from the lake in the background. It doesn't look too steep in the photo's.
I found the bus through a chap called Bobby (prior to my days of surfing eBay or The Samba), who I had met at a UK VW show a few years earlier and who imported Aussie V-Dubs into the UK. I was actually after a walkthrough model, as I thought it would be better for camping, but he said that he knew of a solid '58 that was located near Melbourne. It had the licence plate Kool VW and allegedly belonged to a Greek gentleman - not sure how true the Greek bit is, but I do have an old photo somewhere with the licence plate though! It turned out to be a '57 and was structurally every bit as good as he promised. The mechanicals were not quite as good....
It then travelled to London, England, where it was impounded by Her Majesty's Customs & Excise, because Bobby had been a bad boy and forgotten to tell the tax man that he was importing vehicles as a business to sell to other people, and not just for his own personal use. I worked on the cruise ships at this point in my life, so by the time Bobby sorted out his problems with the tax man, I was away on a four month contract. So, in stepped my good old Dad.
Dad checked the bus out for me, paid Bobby the balance of the price and set off on a rather eventful, and therefore protracted journey, to my parents home in the North East of England. This journey would take around 6 hours in a modern vehicle, but took Dad around double that in the Split. Whilst filling up with gas somewhere in London, he noted some oil on the ground in the gas station. His first thought was that someone was losing a lot of oil. Yep, it was him. It was pouring out of the engine. So, armed with a can of fresh oil, he set off again, stopping frequently to top up the black stuff. As it began to get dark, he noticed that the waves, honks and flashing of lights had become more frequent. He stopped and discovered that the traffic honking their horns and flashing their lights weren't just saying "cool bus"! He had no rear lights. My Dad is quite a resourceful chap, so he strapped his Maglite into the rear offside lense with electrical tape and continued on, changing out the batteries every hour or so. There was also the problem of headlight alignment. One was pointed at the ground a few feet ahead of the bumper, and the other was searching for aircraft WW2 style.
He practically rolled it into the garage after the engine began depositing it's oil in very significant quantities during the last 10 miles or so - it had been leaking quite nicely for the entire journey before this. My mother heard him approaching from around 5 miles away.
It lived in the North East until shortly after I emigrated to Canada, and in November 2006 it once again headed South and onto the ocean. I picked it up in Tacoma WA and then drove it on a less eventful trip home to Nanaimo. Our only problems were driving the wrong way down a one way street in Seattle and then a puncture on the ferry. My Dad was driving my KG on the same trip for me and managed to get totally lost in the middle of Seattle. He found a local cop who was actually walking down the street (yes, I know, unbelievable, but true!), who sent him in the correct direction towards our hotel.
Although the bus has not seen any real mileage since arriving in Canada, it was well used in the UK. I drove it to VW Action, Vanfest, Southampton (7 - 8 hours from my parent's place in a normal car!), the English Lake District and many other places. I even, unintentionally, drove it in the snow once. It handled pretty well, although the 6v wipers weren't much use at keeping the screens clear. I think that it actually broke down on around half the times that I took it out. I think that the most eventful trip was the time that we were going camping in the English Lake District, around 120 miles from my parent's place. We managed around 8 miles before it stopped. The AA attended and pronounced a faulty coil. Of course, he didn't carry coils for vehicles as old as this these days.... So, my Dad picked one up and brought it out to me. We fitted it up and headed home, with the intention of starting again the next day. The next day we managed around 30 miles, before it conked out again. Once again, the AA attended and pronounced.... a dead coil. Good old Dad made the trek out to rescue us again, as the AA still didn't carry coils for old vehicles. This time we made it to the West coast, before the engine overheated (something to do with cruising in the fast lane at 70mph plus. I say plus, because that is as far as the speedo goes!). Once it cooled down, we managed to limp onwards to our campsite. When we arrived, I went to check in, but when I climbed back into the bus, it wouldn't start. Fortunately, our camping spot was downhill, so I put it in neutral and coasted down the hill to our spot in silence, much to the amusement of my somewhat (!) patient wife and the other campers... The next morning, we got in, turned the key and drove off. I still don't know what was wrong. We had no further problems that trip, other than the brand new front wheel brake cylinder leaking it's fluid all over the front drum as we drove home through the mountain passes. It made it to the top of the pass. The photographic proof is on the left in my avatar! That's my Dad's old 1990 bronze Audi 80 parked next to it. After this camping trip we joked that we would always carry a camping chair and a cold Diet Coke in the back of the bus for my wife, whilst we waiting for the breakdown recovery.
This photo (above) was taken at the top of Kirkstone Pass, in the Kirkstone Pass Inn car park in the English Lake District. The road up to the Inn was so steep that I had to drive the bus up in 1st gear. It was running a 1600cc DP, with the original big nut transmission and 1500cc reduction boxes.
Camping near Ambleside, English Lake District.
You can just make out the winding single lane road in the background. This is the road I drove up in first gear from the lake in the background. It doesn't look too steep in the photo's.
Speaking of sore backs , my brother in-law threw out his back last year reaching for a cookie.......true story! 
). But that was unloaded. So load that camper up with the wife, kids, and camping paraphernalia, or otherwise ballast accordingly(read: beer to a VW show), and enjoy the drive 