Automotive Aspirations and a Spritely Opportunity

My first car was a reliable 1952 Ford Consul purchased on my eighteenth birthday in 1963. The Consul, registered number XN-882 (Vic) was a good buy for ₤150. It was an excellent ‘only-one-lady-owner’ car but its acquisition was not an initiative of the birthday boy.

It was apparent later, that this purchase was dreamt up by a concerned mother who wished to secure a safe, solid vehicle for her eldest son. Assisted by a second opinion from an acquaintance who was the service manager at Heath’s Motor, a Geelong Ford dealer, the Consul – in sparkling condition – was presented as the ideal car best able to satisfy the young man’s motoring needs.

The other option was an MG TC sports car which was also available for ₤150. The MG TC was well used and brush-painted black, and it did not present well. Mother, and her adviser, had swiftly, and cleanly, killed off any interest in the MG TC.

Mother’s motor trade adviser had done well. Although overshadowed in Australia by the Ford Zephyr 6 – the Consul’s six-cylinder engine stablemate – the Ford Consul Mk1 was an under-rated car. Although built by Ford of Britain, it featured considerable American influence as evident by its unitary body and MacPherson strut front suspension – both firsts for Ford of Britain.

It was powered by an excellent post-WW2 technology 1,500 cc overhead valve engine and the car was so successful that, ten years later, Ford morphed the design into the Ford Consul Cortina, Ford’s initial designation for its highly successful and best-selling Ford Cortina.

But the purchase of the Ford Consul placed the young RAAF cadet in a potential conflict with his air force superiors as RAAF Academy Standing Orders decreed that no first-year cadet could own a motor car. They also decreed that no cadet, not even a fourth-year cadet could own a motor cycle. The RAAF obviously wanted its cadets alive – at least until the commencement of pilot training.

So, for the period June 1963 to December 1963, and in keeping with the Australian tradition of ignoring rules that make no sense, the Ford Consul was driven into RAAF Base Point Cook after dark, and parked discreetly in the No 1 Basic Flying Training School parking lot, some 400 metres distant from the RAAF Academy car parking precinct.

On Saturday morning, after leave parade was convened and dismissed, the Consul sat watching the RAAF Academy car park empty then, when it observed the RAAF Bedford bus, full with car-deprived cadets, predominately first-year cadets, depart for the Melbourne CBD, it motored through the main gates of RAAF Base Point Cook to freedom.

Remarkably ‘the RAAF powers that be’ remained in ignorance of the two-tone cream and green Ford owned by the RAAF Academy first-year cadet – or maybe they just let still waters rest!

Today, state secrets survive less time than the small Ford sedan spent sneaking in and out of RAAF Base Point Cook, enroute to the No 1 Basic Flying Training School parking lot.

But it was a relief, when at the start of second-year, the Ford Consul settled into the official RAAF Academy car parking lot where it added a touch of class to the generally dilapidated cast of rust-buckets that were parked there. It also proved its reliability when two fellow cadets from New South Wales, who did not own cars, convinced the owner of the Consul that the car could enable them to spend the 1964 Easter break in Sydney.

On Easter Thursday evening, and loaded with five air force cadets, the Consul drove through the night leaving the Hume Highway at Picton, diverting through Appin to arrive at the home of one of the NSW Cadet’s parents, in Gymea, early on Good Friday. Over the weekend it parked easily in the Sydney CBD while the cadets ‘did Sydney’ including observing the emergence of the foundations of the Opera House from the observation platform of the South Pylon.

The Consul returned to Point Cook by daylight on the Tuesday, touring at a comfortable 50 mph with the only problem being a punctured front-tyre, encountered approaching Wangaratta.

But despite being functional and reliable, the Consul was hardly in keeping with the image of an aspiring jet jockey who spent much of 1964 dreaming of more appropriate automotive options. Then BMC released the Austin-Healey Sprite Mk 111, a small sports car with a Donald Healey heritage. Sporting, convertible, and affordable, well maybe not really – but there were financial ways and means.

After sorting the finance, the Consul was driven to Peter Manton Motors in Elizabeth Street, Melbourne, on a fine Saturday morning in October 1964, with a view to exchanging it for a new AH Sprite Mk 111. But for a time, it all looked nugatory as an aggressive, patronizing and overbearing salesman advised the presentable and fully serviceable Consul was really a mechanical disaster. All he would offer was a paltry ₤90 – a sum ₤60 short of the approved financial arrangements.

But the salesman had picked the wrong target as he was not aware the Consul’s owner was not a city slicker, but was lad – brought up in a country hotel – where he already had considerable experience in the robustness of life.

With the salesman having gotten his hackles up, the contingent ‘Plan B’ was put into action. The Consul was driven to 516 High Street, Northcote, to Goulds Motors, an inner-suburban Melbourne BMC dealer with a long history of selling Austin cars. Sports cars were not their cup of tea but the staff at Goulds had manners and treated the man in the air force uniform with respect. More importantly, they agreed the Consul was in excellent mechanical condition and yes, they would offer a trade-in price of ₤150.

They even rounded it up to ₤150-15-6 as the drive-away price for a Sprite Mk 111 was ₤1,082-15-6. The deal was done, but it would be four weeks before the red Austin Healey Sprite Mk 111 would arrive in stock.

The Consul was driven back from Goulds Motors to Point Cook but along the way the opportunity was taken to detour via Manton’s showroom in Elizabeth Street to advise the salesman that he had just blown a sale. Such is the precociousness of youth!

Actually, he had blown seven sales because over the next 18 months another six cadets from No 16 Course at the RAAF Academy would buy either Mk 111 or Mk 111A Sprites, and most from Goulds – certainly, no sales from Peter Manton Motors.

For the next four weeks the Consul was rarely driven as this was not the time to risk its body panel integrity on the streets of Melbourne until, on Saturday, 28th November, the trusty Consul was delivered to Goulds where Sprite was waiting prominently, at the front of the showroom, next to the full-length windows.

‘My Sprite’ had been registered, as JDB-836, on Friday, 27 November 1964. The invoice of sale from Goulds Motors, 516 High Street, Northcote, recorded the chassis number as YHGN7 629, the engine number as 10CCDAH 5623, the sale number as 499, and the colour as red.

Many decades later a Sprite aficionado noted the prefix YHGN7, as recorded on the invoice, was the prefix for a Mk IIA Sprite and not for a Mk III Sprite. But Sprite is definitely a Mk III. The only explanation is that, as Sprite was one of the first Australian Mk III cars, the staff at Goulds Motors – more used to selling BMC sedans than BMC sports cars – did not closely examine the car’s ID late and presumed Sprite was a YHGN7. Similarly, they did not note the car’s ID plate listed the paint colour as Champion Red.

But the car’s ID plate is clearly stamped “Type – YAGN8”, “Car No – 629” and “Colour – Champion Red”. Sprite’s body number is 41509 which is legible on the left front chassis.

With the transaction completed, the hood was secured in the boot and the open car pointed towards Point Cook to commence its run-in regimen.