Scuttle

Scuttle (pronounced skuht-l)

(1) In nautical use, a small hatch or port in the deck, side, or bottom of a vessel; a cover for such a hatch; small opening in a boat or ship for draining water from open deck.

(2) A small hatch-like opening in a roof or ceiling that provides access to the roof from the interior of a building.

(3) In nautical use, deliberately to sink one's ship or boat by any means (eg by opening the sea-cocks), usually by order of the vessel's commander or owner.

(4) To abandon, withdraw from, or cause to be abandoned or destroyed (plans, hopes, rumors etc).

(5) To run with quick, hasty steps; scurry; a quick pace; a short, hurried run.

(6) A deep bucket for carrying coal.

(7) In northern British dialectal use, a broad, shallow basket, especially for carrying vegetables; a dish, platter or a trencher (sometimes called scuttle dish).

(8) The part of a motor-car body lying immediately behind the bonnet (hood), called the cowl in the US.

Pre 1050: From the Middle English scutel & scutelle (trencher) and scuttel (dish, basket, winnowing fan), from the Old English scutel (dish, trencher, platter), from the Latin scutella (serving platter; bowl), diminutive of scutra (shallow dish, pan) and (perhaps) the Latin scūtum (shield).  The Latin scutella was the source also of the French écuelle, the Spanish escudilla, the Italian scudella.  It was also a source of much Germanic borrowing, the source of the Old Norse skutill, the Middle Dutch schotel, the Old High German scuzzila and the German Schüssel (a dish).  The Meaning "basket for sifting grain" is attested from the mid-fourteenth century and as a "bucket for holding coal", use dates from 1849.

The sense of a “hole cut in a ship for some purpose” dates from 1490–1500, firstly as “skottell”: Of obscure origin, possibly from the Middle French escoutille, or from the Spanish escotar (to cut out) & escotilla (hatchway), the construct of which was escot & escote (a cutting of cloth) + -illa (a diminutive suffix of Germanic origin).  In the Gothic skaut meant “hem or seam).  Another possible link is to the Middle English scottlynge (scampering), a variant of scuddle and frequentative of scud.  The idea of hatches and holes in ships later extended to automobiles, the scuttle (cowl in the US) the space between the windscreen and bonnet (hood).  The sense of "cutting a hole in a ship to sink it" was first attested in the 1640s, an extension of use from the late-fifteenth century skottell (opening in a ship's deck), either from the French escoutille (which in Modern French is écoutille) or directly from the Spanish escotilla (hatchway), a diminutive of escota (opening in a garment), from escotar (cut out).  Scuttle & scuttling are nouns & verbs, scuttleful is a noun and scuttled is a verb; the noun plural is scuttles.

You're wrong.—He was the mildest manner'd man
That ever scuttled ship or cut a throat:
With such true breeding of a gentleman,
You never could divine his real thought;
No courtier could, and scarcely woman can
Gird more deceit within a petticoat;
Pity he loved adventurous life's variety,
He was so great a loss to good society.

Don Juan (1819–24) canto III, stanza XLI, by Lord Byron (1788–1824)

The figurative use to describe the sense of abandonment or destruction of the planning etc of something is recorded from 1888.  In military use this can be combined with the use of scuttle to describe a rapid, sometimes erratic crab-like walk suggestive of panic; the recent US evacuation from Kabul, would, in more robust times, have been called a scuttle.  The sense of "scamper; scurry" emerged in the mid-fifteenth century, probably related to the verb scud and perhaps influenced by the odd imperfect echoic.

A variation of the scuttle as a hole in the deck was scuttlebutt to describe a "cask of drinking water kept on a ship's deck, having a hole (scuttle) cut in it for a cup or dipper" is from 1805, supplanting the earlier (1777) “scuttle cask”.  Scuttlebutt is first recorded as meaning “rumor; gossip" in 1901 and was nautical slang before coming into general use late in World War I (1914-1918).  The modern corporate form, analogous with “gathering around the scuttlebutt” is the office “water-cooler” conversation.  The idea of information (accurate or otherwise) being associated with drinking water is doubtless as old as prehistoric people gathering at a drinking place and there’s the World War One era “furphy”, a descriptor of a rumor proved wrong, based on its origin being talk exchanged between soldiers having a yarn at one of the army’s Furphy brand water tanks.

Scuttle shake

The term scuttle shake is used to describe the shuddering displayed in many convertible cars, especially when traversing rough or uneven surfaces.   The vibrations happen because, without the strength provided by a fixed-roof, open-top automobiles generally are less structurally rigid than closed vehicles.  It’s called scuttle-shake because, although the scuttle (the area between the bonnet (hood) and the windscreen) is not the only place where the shuddering happens, it’s there where it’s usually most severe, often to the point where other vibrations tend not to be noticed.  The scuttle is affected because the erratic forces are generated through the tyres, to the chassis or frame to the point of the least structural rigidity: the bulkhead atop which sits the scuttle.  There is a transatlantic difference in that what most of the English-speaking world calls a scuttle is a cowl in US use.  Despite that, the term scuttle shake and cowl shake are both used in the US, probably because cars made there were always less susceptible to the phenomenon because the body-engineering standards were higher, Detroit always willing to add more bracing even at the cost of increasing overall weight.  It's speculative but perhaps it became so associated with foreign cars it was just natural to think scuttle and not cowl.

The archetypical scuttle shakers were the Triumph TR roadsters (TR2-TR6 1952-1976), the reputation gained because of the platform’s long life; although the TR6 bore no external resemblance to its earliest antecedents, much the same chassis and body structure underlay them all.  Many contemporaries of the TR2 and TR3 also suffered the problem but most manufacturers went through three or four generations in the quarter century the separate chassis TRs were produced, benefitting from the improvements in design and body engineering which passed by Triumph's aging roadster.  By the time the TR6 entered production in 1969, none of the competition still shook so much; that doesn’t mean that by the late twentieth century the problem went away but it was much ameliorated.  Notably, in the 1980s, generational shift, an improving economy and the non-appearance of the rumored US legislation which would have outlawed convertibles enticed some manufacturers back into the drop-top market so new models appears to demonstrate the difference.  Because volumes would be small, the development costs associated with new models was thought prohibitive so these were usually modified coupés.  Cutting the roof of a closed car is the classic recipe for scuttle shake but the techniques to strengthen structures had much improved over the years and the basic bodies were anyway inherently stronger because of the regulations imposed to improve crashworthiness.  Drivers could certainly tell the difference in body-rigidity but few were anything like a Triumph TR6 (unless it was a Saab 900; the Swedish car's convertible body was famously flexible).

Triumph TR2 (1953-1955).

After a similar looking prototype based on a pre-war platform was rejected, a redesign produced the TR2.  The specification was unpromising for a sports car; a hardly innovative ladder frame chassis, a two litre (122 cubic inch) engine based on one used in tractors (!), rudimentary weather protection and an already dated body but it was a success on both sides of the Atlantic.  On the road, it turned out to be greater than the sum of its parts, easily exceeding 100 mph (162 km/h) when that was something rare and, in the UK, it was the cheapest car which could make the claim.  Not delicate or in any way exquisite to drive ("agricultural" the usual description, perhaps a nod to the tractor engine), its characteristics were predictable by the standards of the time and it was soon effective in competition.  Over eight-thousand were built.

Triumph TR3 (1955-1962).

Essentially an updated TR2, the TR3 would be upgraded throughout its life in three identifiable generations although the factory regarded the changes as normal product development and never used different designations to distinguish between them (in the collector car market they're known as TR3, TR3A (1957) & TR3B (1962)).  Although still lacking many of the civilizing accruements buyers would soon expect, in its time the TR3 was a great sales hit and was campaigned successfully both by the factory teams and privateers in just about every category of competition for which it was eligible.  The advantages of using the tractor engine had become apparent in the TR2: the thing was both tuneable and close to indestructible if run by the book.  In the TR3, the usual English route to power (bigger carburetors, bigger valves, bigger ports and a more radical camshaft) was followed and 100 bhp (75 kw) was achieved.  Disk brakes, first used on the Factory Le Mans TR2s, were added to all but the earliest TR3s and the driving experience, despite the addition of rack and pinion steering, though offering nothing like the precision of the Italian competition, was rewarding if a little brutish (although the thing had gained respect and was now rarely called "agricultural").  Almost seventy-five thousand were built.

Triumph TRS with "sabrina" engine, Le Mans, 1960.

Like the TR2, the TR3 was a popular choice as a race car but by the late 1950s, the competitive cars from Britain, Italy and the US had been developed well beyond what the TR2 had tended to face earlier in the decade.  For various reasons, it wasn’t easy for European manufacturers to pursue the path to power and performance by adopting the American approach of big displacement so they chose the alternative: greater specific efficiencies & higher engine speeds.  In Italy, as early as 1954 Alfa Romeo had proved the once exotic double overhead camshaft (DOHC) configuration was viable in relatively low-cost, mass-production machines and even in England, MG’s MGA Twin Cam had been released, short-lived though it was.  Triumph’s cars had enjoyed much success, both in the marketplace and on racetracks but their engines were based on one used in a tractor and while legendary robust, it was tuneable only up to a point and that point had been reached, limiting its potential in competition.  The solution was a DOHC head atop the old tractor mill and this the factory prepared for their racing team to run in the 1959 Le Mans 24 Hour classic, naming the car in which it was installed the TR3S, suggesting some very close relationship with the road-going TR3 although it really was a prototype and a genuine racing car.  The engine used at Le Mans was called the “sabrina”.

Sabrina in some characteristic poses.

Norma Ann Sykes' (1936–2016 and better known by her stage name: Sabrina)  early career was as a model, sometimes in various stages of undress, but it was when in 1955 she was cast as a stereotypical “dumb blonde” in a television series she achieved national fame.  On stage or screen, she remained a presence into the 1970s and although without great critical acclaim although the University of Leeds did confer an honorary D.Litt (Doctor of Letters) for services to the arts so there was that.

The Le Mans campaigns with the sabrina Engine: TR3S (1959, left), TRS (1960, centre) and the TRS team crossing the line in formation for what was a "staged  photo-opportunity", none of the cars having completed the requisite number of laps to be classified a "finisher" (1960, right).  In 1961, all three went the distance, taking the "Teams Prize".  

Some resemblance in the mind's eye of an engineer: Sectional view of the sabrina.

The engine's original project code was 20X but an engineer's chance remark at the assembly bench caught on so "sabrina" it became.  Anatomically, the engineers were of course about right because the front sectional view of the sabrina engine’s internals do align with what Dr Vera Regitz-Zagrosek (b 1953; Professor of Cardiology at the University of Zurich), describes as “the bikini triangle”, that area of the female human body defined by a line between the breasts and from each breast down to the reproductive organs; it’s in this space that is found all the most obvious anatomical differences between male & female although the professor does caution that differences actually exist throughout the body, down to the cellular level.

Triumph used the sabrina engine for three consecutive years at Le Mans, encountering some problems but the reward was delivered in 1961 when all three cars completed the event with one finishing a creditable ninth, the trio winning that year’s team prize.  Satisfied the engine was now a reliable power-plant, the factory did flirt with the idea of offering it as an option in the TR sports cars but, because the differences between it and the standard engine were so great, it was decided the high cost of tooling up for mass production was unlikely to be justified, the projected sales volumes just not enough to amortize the investment.  Additionally, although much power was gained by adding the DOHC Hemi head, the characteristics of its delivery were really suited only to somewhere like Le Mans which is hardly typical of race circuits, let alone the conditions drivers encounter on the road.  As a footnote in Triumph’s history, it was the second occasion on which the factory had produced a DOHC engine which had failed to reach production.  In 1934 the company displayed a range-topping version of their Dolomite sports car (1934-1940), powered by a supercharged two litre (121 cubic inch), DOHC straight-8.  The specification was intoxicating and the lines rakish but, listed at more than ten times the price of a small family car, it was too ambitious for the troubled economy of the 1930s and only three were built.

Triumph TR4 (1962-1965).

Although the chassis and drive-train of the TR3 substantially were carried over, the TR4 received a new body, designed in Italy by Giovanni Michelotti's (1921–1980) design house, continuing what would prove a lucrative association for both the Italians and the British.  Modernised in function as well as form, the TR for the first time enjoyed wind-up windows and much improved ventilation as well as the novelty of the option of a kind of targa top, the first on the market although it was Porsche which decided to copyright the name.  To compensate for the increased weight, the engine was bored out to 2.1 litres (128 cubic inches) but the smaller version remained a factory option for those wished to run in competitions under the FIA’s 2.0 litre (122 cubic inch) rules, although, being a tractor engine and thus using wet cylinder liners, it wasn’t difficult for owners of a 2.1 to revert.

A 1965 Triumph TR4A appeared in Netflix's Lindsay Lohan film Irish Wish (2024) and the IMCDB (Internet Movie Cars Database) confirmed it was registered in Ireland (ZV5660, VIN:STC65CT17130C) as running the 2.1 litre version (17130C) of the engine.  The Triumph 2.1 is sometimes listed as a 2.2 because, despite an actual displacement of 2138 cm³, in some places the math orthodoxy is ignored and a "round up" rule applied, something done usually in jurisdictions which use displacement-based taxation or registration regimes, the "rounding up" sometimes having the effect of "pushing" a vehicle into a category which attracts a higher rate.  The lack of the "IRS" (independent rear suspension) badge on the trunk (boot) lid indicates the use of the live rear axle.

This time Triumph did create official version names as the specification changed.  In 1965, the TR4A was released, marked by a small power increase but, more significantly, independent rear suspension which necessitated a change to the rear of the chassis frame.  Improvements in tyre technology had increasingly exposed the limitations of the TR4’s live axle which, mounted on such a low chassis, offered only limited wheel travel, something disguised by the grip of the TR2-era tyres which tended predictably to slide but when fitted with modern radial-ply tyres, the loss of grip could be sudden and unexpected.  The IRS greatly improved the ride and raised the limits of adhesion, making for a safer road car but those using a TR4 in competition still opted for the live axle which offered more control in the hands of experts who preferred to steer with the throttle.  Many TR4As were actually fitted with the live axle, re-designed to accommodate the changes to the chassis.  Facing competition from much improved MG and Austin-Healy roadsters, sales suffered somewhat with around forty-thousand TR4s built.

Triumph TR5 (1967-1968 and sold in North America as the TR-250).

Visually almost identical to the TR4, the TR5 benefited from being powered by a 2.5 litre (153 cubic inch) version of Triumph’s (again almost indestructible) straight-six and in a first for a volume British manufacturer, it used Lucas mechanical fuel injection, tuned to a healthy 150 bhp (112 kw) (although even at the time many thought this seemed a little optimistic).  Again available with the clever targa (usually called the “Surrey Top” although the factory insisted the “surrey” was merely a the roof part of the whole system), the bigger engine meant the TR5 became a genuine 120 mph (195 km/h) car.

For the first time (and a harbinger of what lay ahead), TR5s built for the North American market differed significantly from most of those destined for the rest of the world.  Instead of fuel-injection, the new world cars breathed through a pair of Zenith-Stromberg carburetors and, to mark the debut of the 2.5 litre six, were named TR-250.  The combination of the loss of the fuel injection and the addition of the early anti-emissions plumbing did sacrifice power, the TR-250 rated at 111 bhp (81 kW) but performance was still slightly better than the TR4, the feeling being the US car’s official power was likely a more accurate number than the 150 bhp claimed for the TR5.  The TR5 was in production for only a short time and fewer than three-thousand were built, the importance of the US market illustrated by almost eight and a half thousand TR-250s being shipped during the same time.  The IRS was now fitted to all cars.

Triumph TR6 (1968-1976).

Like its predecessor, the TR6 was built with both fuel injection and carburetors but all were labelled TR6 regardless of destination, the US market and those with less developed infrastructure missing out on the newer system.  The car itself was almost unchanged underneath but new front and rear styling was grafted onto the TR4/TR5 centre section, styled this time by Karmann of Germany so it was English underneath, Italian in the middle and German to the front and rear.  The targa top was retired, replaced by a hardtop designed in-house and the restyle, universally praised as ruggedly handsome, was well received.

Although the factory labelled the whole run as TR6, such were the variations over the years that Triumph nerds differentiate several (informal) versions, some based on detail differences and some on significant changes in specification.  All models produced for the North-American market used carburetors (the mechanical fuel-injection system unable to comply with the more onerous emission rules), delivering 104 bhp (78 kw) and this configuration was used also in some export markets because of anticipated difficulties in servicing the Lucas equipment in countries with a less developed infrastructure.  The home market and most other export cars used fuel injection which, again rated at 150 bhp, delivered almost identical performance to the TR5.  In 1972, the fuel-injected cars were re-tuned with a milder camshaft, lower compression ratio and smaller inlet valves, the factory revising the claimed power to 125 bhp (94 kw) although performance barely suffered, hinting the new claim might be more accurate than the old.  The engine revisions suited the motoring conditions of the day, traffic volumes now much heavier and the re-tuned engine delivered its power over a wider range, the slight sacrifice in top-end performance noticed by few.

A home market 1974 TR6 in magenta, one of the more appealing of the wide range of color choices (some of the hues of brown not fondly remembered) British Leyland offered during the 1970s (left) and a 1976 US market TR6 (right).  The revised detailing at the front was a consequence of needing to install more substantial bumpers to comply with legislation, the rubber dagmars fitted also at the rear.  Unusually for the smaller British roadsters of the era, air-conditioning was sometimes fitted to the US market cars.

Compared with genuinely modern sports cars like the Datsun 240Z or even the flawed Jensen-Healy, the TR6 was antiquated but so immensely satisfying to drive, buyers seemed not to mind and sales remained strong, the end coming only because it was clear it soon would no longer be possible to modify the thing to meet upcoming US legislation.  At the end of its seven year run, it was the most successful of the traditional TRs, well over ninety-thousand made of which over eighty-three thousand were exported.  Although the TR6 was not visually recognizable as a descendent of the TR2, one thing remained constant throughout: scuttle shake.