Showing posts sorted by relevance for query Tiger. Sort by date Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query Tiger. Sort by date Show all posts

Saturday, July 27, 2024

Chenille

Chenille (pronounced shuh-neel)

(1) A thick soft tufty silk or worsted velvet cord or yarn used in embroidery and for trimmings and other embellishments.

(2) A fabric made with such a fringed silken thread used as the weft in combination with wool or cotton; it’s a popular fabric for garments such as sweaters.

(3) In casual use, any fabric with a protruding pile, as in certain rayon bedspreads.

(4) A deep-pile, durable, woolen carpeting with chenille weft: the most expensive of the power-loomed floor coverings in volume production.

(5) In botany, the chenille plant (Acalypha hispida), a shrub with colorful furry flowers

1738: from the French chenille (velvety cord used in embroidery, fringes etc (literally “hairy caterpillar” and a doublet of canicule)), from the Latin canīcula (which under a strict etymological breakdown suggests “little dog” but the only documented use was in the senses “shrewish woman”; “dogfish”; “the star Sirius” (canicular); the worst throw in a game of dice); it was a diminutive of canis (dog), from the from primitive indo-European root kwon- (dog).  All uses are derived from the furry look of certain caterpillars.  Chenille is a noun and chenillelike (also as chenille-like) is an adjective; the noun plural is chenilles.

Renault UE Chenillette with trailer, the combination configured as a refueling unit for the infantry, circa 1932.

The unrelated noun chenillette originally described a class of small (most not even 3 metres (10 feet) in length), armored vehicles built for the French Army during the 1930s.  Because they were tracked, they were sometimes referred to as tankettes (a noun later adopted as military slang for scaled-down tanks) but that was misleading because they were really armored utility vehicles intended to tow artillery pieces or trailers with supplies.  The earliest had provision only for a driver and were unarmed but later designs expanded both capacities.  By the standards of the time they were fast and being cheap to produce and operate were produced in large numbers and used by a number of militaries as late as the 1950s.  In the UK, the Chenille name was adopted for a tracked sidewalk tractor, especially one equipped with plough-like device for clearing snow, the name an allusion to the (vaguely) caterpillar-like appearance.  In arctic regions, snowcats (tracked, truck-like enclosed vehicles used to transport people and supplies across snow & ice) are sometimes referred to as chenillettes, the term used also for some of the machines operated by ski resorts or others in alpine areas.

The inspiration: Woolly Bear caterpillar (Pyrrharctia isabella), the caterpillar the larval stage of the Isabella tiger moth.

Chenille is a type of fabric construction available in a range of designs and valued for qualities as varied as disguising wrinkles and retaining an opulent sheen meaning it is adaptable and widely used.  The name comes from the French chenille (caterpillar) and in an allusion to the creature’s soft, fluffy appearance although this shouldn’t be taken too literally because some caterpillars have stinging hairs which can induce health problems such as itching, conjunctivitis, sore throats and various localized irritations which can in some cases lead to infections and because the hairs can even be flown off by gusts of wind, even being in close proximity can expose one to risk.  The chenille technique used to produce the fabric involves placing several short piles of yarn between two core yarns, weaving them together to create a raised (ie hairy) effect.

Lindsay Lohan in a pale pink chenille midi-dress by David Koma (b 1985), Clarins new product launch party, Los Angeles, March 2024.

Thick, durable, and water-resistant, chenille is popular with furniture manufacturers and used for upholstery and its seen often in bed sheets, rugs and linens but most photographed are the sweaters, dresses and such, the industry liking the look because it’s so easy to achieve a lustrous, opulent appearance and customers like it because the texture is such that it “absorbs” crushing, crinkling and wrinkling without obvious effect.  Quite which type of chenille should be chosen will be dictate by the appearance desired and that is a product of the materials used in the construction: cotton, silk, and wool chenille lend a soft and luxurious texture, polyester versions have a shiny, almost velvety sheen while rayon chenille is famously lush, durable valued for its shimmering iridescence.  The cost breakdown of course dictates patterns of consumption and polyester chenilles are by far the cheapest and most widely used for furniture, especially where the surface areas large or subject to high use.  Natural fibres such as wool raises the cost and demand more maintenance but no synthetic can match the softness, natural feel and desired degree of fuzziness.

Examples of chenille fabrics.

Chenilles are among the more recent fabrics, the technique coming into use in France only in the mid-eighteenth century although then it was the preserve of artisans and it wasn’t until the 1830s that industrial production began in Scotland.  Initially the fabrics were expensive because the process was broken into several stages and although mechanized, it remained labor intensive until dedicated machines were developed.  The centre of production shifted to the US and by the 1930s, despite the onset of the Great Depression, the sector emerged as a bright spot for the industry because chenilles were adaptable to purposes as diverse as floor mats, bedspreads and upholstery, the economics particularly attractive because the production process made such efficient use of the cotton crop.  Use actually declined in the post-war years but new techniques and the expansion of mass-market fashion in the 1960s & 1970s saw renewed interest in it for garments and fashion houses at all levels four it a flexible and adaptable fabric.  Not unexpectedly, as manufacturing in the 1980s shifted to South Asia and the Far East, “faux chenille” soon hit the high street.

Monday, October 2, 2023

Unique

Unique (pronounced yoo-neek)

(1) Existing as the only one or as the sole example; single; solitary in type or characteristics; the embodiment of unique characteristics; the only specimen of a given kind.

(2) Having no like or equal; unparalleled; incomparable.

(3) Limited in occurrence to a given class, situation, or area.

(4) Limited to a single outcome or result; without alternative possibilities:

(5) Not typical; unusual (modern non-standard (ie incorrect) English).

1595-1605: From the sixteenth century French unique, from the Latin ūnicus (unparalleled, only, single, sole, alone of its kind), from ūnus (one), from the primitive Indo-European root oi-no- (one, unique).  The meaning "forming the only one of its kind" is attested from the 1610s while the erroneous sense of "remarkable, uncommon" emerged in the mid-nineteenth and lives on in the common errors “more unique” and “very unique” although etymologists are more forgiving of “quite unique”, a favorite of the antique business where it seems to be used to emphasize the prized quality of "exquisiteness".  Unique is a noun & adjective, uniqueness, uniquity & unicity are nouns and uniquely is an adverb; the (rare) noun plural is uniques.  The comparative uniquer and the superlative uniquest are treated usually as proscribed forms which should be used only with some sense of irony but technically, while the preferred "more unique" and "most unique" might sound better, the structural objection is the same.

The Triumph Stag and its unique, ghastly engine

There was a little girl by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807–1882)

There was a little girl,
And she had a little curl
Right in the middle of her forehead.
When she was good
She was very, very good,
And when she was bad she was horrid.

The V8 engine Triumph built for the Stag between 1970-1978 was a piece of machinery not quite uniquely horrid but so bad it remained, most unusually for such an engine, unique to the Stag.  The only other post-war V8 engine to be produced in any volume which was used in a single model was the Fiat 8V (1952-1954) though with a run of 114 it was hardly mass produced.  The Ford Boss 429 (1969-1970) was only ever used in the Mustang (apart from two Mercury Cougars built for drag racing) but it was a variant of the 385 series engines (370-429-460) rather than something genuinely unique.  More common have been V8s which never actually appeared in any production car such as Ford's 427 SOHC (a variant of the FE/FT family (332-352-360-361-390-406-410-427-428; 1957-1976)) or the Martin V8, designed by Ted Martin (1922-2010) initially for racing but briefly envisaged for the French Monica luxury car project (1971-1975) until a sense of reality prevailed.  What is unique about the Triumph 3.0 V8 is that it's the one produced in the greatest volume which was used only in the one model.

The Triumph 3.0 V8

Engine schematic. 

Problem 1: Some strange decisions were taken by British Leyland and many associated with the Stag’s engine are among the dopiest.  The engineering strategy was to create a family of engines of different size around common components which would enable the development of four, six and eight cylinder units with capacities between 1.5-4 litres, (75-245 cubic inches), the part-sharing offering some compelling economies of scale.  Done properly, as many have often done, it’s sound practice to create a V8 by joining two four-cylinder units but it’s unwise to using exactly the same bottom-end components for both.  Strictly speaking, because the V8 came first, the subsequent fours were actually half a V8 rather than vice-versa but the fact remains the bottom-end construction was more suited to the smaller mill; the bearings were simply too small.

Stagnant.  Blockages and corrosion by chemical reaction.

Problem 2: A second cause of engine trouble was the choice of materials. The block was made from iron and the heads from aluminum, a common enough practice even then but a combination new to Triumph owners and one demanding the year-round use of corrosion-inhibiting antifreeze, a point not widely appreciated even by the somewhat chaotic dealer network supporting them.  Consequently, in engines where only water was used as a coolant, the thermite reaction between iron and aluminum caused corrosion where the material were joined, metallic debris coming lose which was distributed inside the engine; the holes formed in the heads causing gaskets to fail, coolant and petrol mixing with lubricating oil.

Problem 3. The engine used a long, single row, roller-link timing chain which would soon stretch, causing the timing between the pistons (made of a soft metal) and the valves (made of a hard mental) to become unsynchronized.  There are “non-interference” engines where this is a nuisance because it causes things to run badly and “interference” engines where the results can be catastrophic because, at high speed, valves crash into pistons.  The Stag used an “interference” engine.

Engine schematic.  Note the angles of the head-studs.

Problem 4: There was a bizarre arrangement of cylinder head fixing studs, half of which were vertical in an orthodox arrangement while the other half sat at an angle. The angled studs, made from a high-tensile steel, were of course subject to heating and cooling and expanded and contracted at a different rate to the aluminum cylinder heads, the differential causing premature failure of the head gaskets.  It must have seemed a good idea at the time, the rationale being it made possible the replacement of the head gaskets without the need to remove the camshafts and re-set the valves and that is a time-consuming and therefore expensive business so the intention was fine but defeated by physics which should have been anticipated.  Nor did the thermal dynamics damage only head gaskets, it also warped the aluminum heads, the straight studs heating differently than the longer splayed studs which imposed the side loads that promoted warping.  As a final adding of insult to injury, the long steel studs had a propensity solidly to fuse with the aluminum head and, because they sat at dissimilar angles, it wasn’t possible simply to saw or grind the top off the offending bolt and pull of the head.

Problem 5: The head failures would have been a good deal less prevalent had the company management acceded to the engineers’ request to use the more expensive head gaskets made of a material suited to maintaining a seal between surfaces of iron and aluminum.  For cost reasons, the request was denied.

Triumph Stag engine bay.

Problem 6: Despite the under-hood space being generous, instead following the usual practice of being mounted low and belt-driven, at the front of the engine, the water pump was located high, in the valley between the heads and was gear driven off a jackshaft.  This, combined with the location of the header tank through which coolant was added, made an engine which had suffered only a small loss of coolant susceptible to over-heating which, if undetected, could soon cause catastrophic engine failure, warped cylinder heads not uncommon.  Because, when on level ground, the water pump sat higher than the coolant filling cap, unless the car was parked at an acute angle, it wasn’t possible to fill the system with enough fluid actually to reach the water pump.    It seems a strange decision for a engineer to make and the original design blueprints show a belt-driven water pump mounted in a conventional manner at the front of the block.

It transpired that Saab, which had agreed to purchase a four cylinder derivative of the modular family, had to turn the slant four through 180o because, in their front-wheel-drive 99, the transmission needed to sit at the front and, space in the Swedish car being tight, there would be no room between block and bulkhead for a water pump and pulley to fit.  So, dictated by necessity, the pump ended up atop the block, suiting both orientations and driven by the same shaft that drove the distributor and oil pump (and would have driven the mechanical metering unit for the abortive fuel injection).  Aside from the issues with coolant, the drive mechanism for the pump brought problems of its own, the early ones proving fragile.  As if the problems inherent weren’t enough, Triumph made their detection harder, locating the coolant temperature sender in one of the cylinder heads.  On the modular fours, with one head, that would be fine but the Stag’s two heads didn’t warp or otherwise fail in unison.  One head could be suffering potentially catastrophic overheating yet, because the sensor was in the as yet unaffected other, the temperature gauge would continue to indicate a normal operating level.  That’s the reason just about every fluid-cooled engine with multiple heads has the sender placed in the water pump.  To compound the problem, the four and eight used the same specification water pump, which, while more than adequate for the former, should have be uprated for the latter.

Problem 7: This was the eventually nationalized British Leyland of the 1970s, a case study, inter alia, in poor management and ineptitude in industrial relations.  Although the pre-production engines were cast by an outside foundry and performed close to faultlessly in durability-testing, those fitted to production cars were made in house by British Leyland in a plant troubled by industrial unrest.  Quality control was appalling bad, lax manufacturing standards left casting sands in the blocks which were sent for the internal components to be fitted and head gaskets were sometimes fitted in a way which restricted coolant flow and led to overheating.

The lineage of the Stag

Michelotti's show car, 1966.

It was a pity because but for the engine, the Stag proved, by the standards of the time, relatively trouble-free, even the often derided Lucas electrical equipment well behaved.  The story began in 1965 when Italian designer Giovanni Michelotti (1921–1980) had requested a Triumph 2000 sedan, a model he’d styled and which had been on sale since 1963.  Michelotti intended to create a one-off convertible as a promotional vehicle to display at the 1966 Geneva Motor Show and Triumph agreed, subject to the company being granted first refusal on production rights and, if accepted, it would not appear at the show.  The donor car sent to Turin was a 1964 saloon which, prior to being used as a factory hack, had been one of the support vehicles for Triumph’s 1965 Le Mans campaign with the Spitfire.  Driven to Italy for Michelotti to cut and shape, the result so delighted Triumph they immediate purchased the production rights and the Stag was born.  Briefly called TR6, the Stag name was chosen, somewhat at random, as the original project code but was retained when it was preferred to all the suggested alternatives; unlike the engine, the name was right from day one.

Michelotti's pre-production styling sketch for a cabriolet version of the Triumph 2000, 1967.  The concept was remarkably close to the production version.

The styling too turned out to be just about spot-on.  The partially concealed headlights, then a fashionable trick many US manufacturers had adopted, was thought potentially troublesome and abandoned but the lines were substantially unchanged between prototype and production.  There was one exception of course and that was the most distinctive feature, the B-pillar mounted loop which connected to the centre of windscreen frame, creating a T-section.  This wasn’t added because of fears the US Congress was going to pass legislation about roll-over protection; that would come later and see European manufacturers produce a rash of “targas” (a kind of roll-bar integrated into the styling as a semi-roof structure) but Triumph’s adaptation was out of structural necessity.  Based on a sedan which had a permanent roof to guarantee structural integrity, Michelotti’s prototype had been a styling exercise and no attempt had been made to adapt the engineering to the standards required for production.  Although the platform had be shortened, a sedan with its roof cut of is going to flex and flex it did, shaking somewhat if driven even at slow speeds in a straight line on smooth surfaces; with any change to any of those conditions, vibration and twisting became much worse.  The T-top not only restored structural integrity but was so well-designed and solidly built the Stag’s torsional stiffness was actually better than the sedan and unlike Triumph's long running TR range (TR2-TR6, 1953-1976 (the TR7-TR8 (1975-1981) a different platform)), there was no scuttle shake.

Given the platform and styling was essentially finished at the beginning, the initial plan the Stag would be ready for release within two years didn’t seem unreasonable but it took twice that long.  Perhaps predictably, it was the engine which was responsible for much of the delay, combined with the turmoil and financial uncertainty of a corporate re-structure.  Triumph had since 1960 been part of the Leyland group (a profitable bus and truck manufacturer) and until 1968 enjoyed much success as their car-making division.  However, in 1968, under some degree of government coercion, a large conglomerate was formed as British Leyland (BL) and Triumph was absorbed into BL's Specialist Division as a stable-mate to Rover and Jaguar-Daimler.

Jaguar & Daimler: V8s, V12s and missed opportunities

Daimler 2.5 V8.

What became the Stag's engine imbroglio was interlinked with the merger because with the great coming-together, BL had on the books, in development or production, one V12 engine and five V8s, an indulgence unlikely to survive any corporate review.  Jaguar-Daimler, the most substantially semi-independent entity within the conglomerate, were adamant about the importance of the V12 to their new model ranges and the point of differentiation it would provide in the vital US market.  They were notably less emphatic about their V8s.  Within the company, there had long been a feeling Jaguars should have either six or twelve cylinders, any V8 a lumpy compromise for which there’d never been much enthusiasm.  Additionally, the Jaguar was more of a compromise than most.  Based on the V12 it was thus in a 60o configuration and so inherently harder to balance than a V8 using an orthodox 90o layout.  Development had been minimal and Jaguar was happy to sacrifice the project, doubtlessly the correct decision.

1961 Jaguar Mark X.

Less inspired was to allow the anti-V8 feeling to doom the hemi-head Daimler V8s.  Built in 2½ litre (2,548 cm3 (155 cubic inch)) and 4½ litre (4,561 cm3 (278 cubic inch)) displacement, both were among the best engines of the era, light, compact and powerful, they were noted also for their splendid exhaust notes, the only aspect in which the unfortunate Stag engine would prove their match.  Jaguar acquired both after merging with (ie taking over) Daimler in 1960 and created a popular (and very profitable) niche model using the smaller version but the 4½ litre was only ever used in low volume limousines, barely two-thousand of which were built in a decade.  Both however showed their mettle, the 2.5 comfortably out-performing Jaguars 2.4 XK-six in the same car and in some measures almost matching the 3.4, all to the accompaniment of that glorious exhaust note.  The 4.6 too proved itself in testing.  When, in 1962, engineers replaced the 3.8 XK-six in Jaguar’s new Mark X with a 4.6, it was six seconds quicker to 100 mph (162 km/h) and added more than 10 mph (16 km/h) to an already impressive top speed of 120 mph (195 km/h).  The engineers could see the potential, especially in the US market where the engines in the Mark X’s competition was routinely now between six-seven litres (365-430 cubic inches) and increasingly being called upon to drive power-sapping accessories such as air-conditioning.  As Mercedes-Benz too would soon note, in the US, gusty sixes were becoming technologically bankrupt.  The engineers looked at the 4.6 and concluded improvements could be made to the cylinder heads and the design would accommodate capacity increases well beyond five litres (305 cubic inches); they were confident a bigger version would be a natural fit for the American market.

Internal discussion paper for Jaguar XK-V8 engine, Coventry, UK, 1949.

Curiously, it could have happened a decade earlier because, during development of the XK-six, a four cylinder version was developed and prototypes built, the intent being to emulate the company’s pre-war practice when (then known as SS Cars) a range of fours and sixes were offered.  This continued in the early post-war years while the XK was being prepared and the idea of modularity appealed; making fours into sixes would become a common English practice but Jaguar flirted also with an XK-eight.  While the days of straight-eights were nearly done, trends in the US market clearly suggested others might follow Ford and offer mass-market V8s so, in 1949, a document was circulated with preliminary thoughts outlining the specification of a 4½ litre 90o V8 using many of the XK-four’s components including a pair of the heads.  There things seemed to have ended, both four and eight doomed by the success and adaptability of the XK-six and there's never been anything to suggest the XK-eight reached even the drawing-board.  Work on the prototype four did continue until the early 1950s, the intention being to offer a smaller car which would fill the huge gap in the range between the XK-120 and the big Mark VII saloon but so quickly did the XK-six come to define what a Jaguar was that it was realized a four would no longer suit the market.  Instead, for the small car, a small (short) block XK-six was developed, initially in two litre form and later enlarged for introduction as the 2.4; with this, the XK-four was officially cancelled by which time the flirtation with the eight had probably already been forgotten.  For decades thereafter, Jaguar would prefer to think in multiples of six and, having missed the chance in the 1960s to co-op the Daimler 4.6, it wouldn’t be for another thirty years that a V8 of four-odd litres would appear in one of their cars.

1954 prototype Jaguar 9 litre military V8.

That didn't mean in the intervening years Jaguar didn't build any V8s.  In the early 1950s, while fulfilling a contract with the Ministry of Supply to manufacture sets of spares for the Rolls-Royce Meteor mark IVB engines (a version of the wartime Merlin V12 made famous in Spitfires and other aircraft) used in the army's tanks, Jaguar was invited to produce for evaluation a number of V8s of "approximately 8 litres (488 cubic inches)".  Intended as a general purpose engine for military applications such as light tanks, armored cars and trucks, what Jaguar delivered was a 9 litre (549 cubic inches), 90o V8 with double overhead camshafts (DOHC), four valves per cylinder and a sealed electrical system (distributors and ignition) to permit underwater operation, thereby making the units suitable also for marine use.  With an almost square configuration (the bore & stroke was 114.3 x 110 mm (4.5 x 4.33 inches)), the naturally aspirated engine exceeded the requested output, yielding 320 bhp (240 kw) at 3750 rpm and either five or six were delivered to the ministry for the army to test.  From that point, it's a mystery, neither the military, the government nor Jaguar having any record of the outcome of the trials which apparently didn't proceed beyond 1956 or 1957; certainly no orders were placed and the project was terminated.  At least one one of the V8s survived, purchased in an army surplus sale it was as late as the 1990s being used in the barbaric-sounding sport of "tractor-pulling".  Later, Jaguar enjoyed more success with the military, the army for some years using a version of the 4.2 litre XK-six in their tracked armored reconnaissance vehicles, the specification similar to that used when installed in the Dennis D600 fire engine.             

Jaguar V12 in 1973 XJ12.  So tight was the fit in the XJ's engine bay, even the battery needed its own cooling fan.

Jaguar’s management vetoed production of the Daimler 4.6 on the grounds (1) there was not the capacity to increase production to what be required for the volume of sales Jaguar hoped the Mark X would achieve and (2) the Mark X would need significant modifications to permit installation of the V8.  Given that Daimler’s production facilities had no difficulty dramatically increasing production of the 2.5 when it was used in the smaller saloon body and a number of specialists have subsequently noted how easy it was to fit some very big units into the Mark X’s commodious engine bay, it’s little wonder there’s always been the suspicion the anti-V8 prejudice may have played a part.  Whatever the reasons, the decision was made instead to enlarge the XK-six to 4.2 litres and missed was the opportunity for Jaguar to offer a large V8-powered car at least competitive with and in some ways superior to the big Americans.  The Mark X (later re-named 420G) was not the hoped-for success, sales never more than modest even in its early days and in decline until its demise in 1970 by which time production had slowed to a trickle.  It was a shame for a design which was so advanced and had so much potential for the US market and had the V8 been used or had the V12 been available by the mid-1960s, things could have been different.  The unfortunate reputation the twelve later gained was because of lax standards in the production process, not any fragility in the design which was fundamentally sound and it would have been a natural fit in the Mark X.  So the Daimler 4.6 remained briefly in small-scale production for the limousines and the 2.5 enjoyed a successful run as an exclusive model under the hood of the smallest Jaguar (as well as the footnote of the SP250 roadster), a life which would extend until 1969.  Unfortunately, the powerful, torquey, compact and robust 2.5, which easily could have been enlarged to three litres, wasn’t used in the Stag.  More helpfully, even if capacity had been limited to 2.8 litres (170 cubic inches) to take advantage of the lower taxation rates applied in Europe, the Daimler V8 would have been more than equal to the task.

Crossing the Rubicon

Fuel-injected 2.5 litre Triumph six in 1968 Triumph TR5.

The Triumph six was essentially an enlarged version of an earlier four.  Released also in 1.6 & 2.0 capacities and used in the 2000/2500, Vitesse, GT6 & TR5/6, the fuel-injection was adopted only for the some of the non-US market sports cars and the short-lived 2.5 PI saloon and because of the reliance on the US market, TVR, which used the engine in the 2500M, in all markets, offered only the twin-carburetor version certified for US sale in the TR-250.  Apart from those fitted with never wholly satisfactory Lucas mechanical fuel-injection, with roots in a tractor engine, the pushrod Triumph six was not an advanced powerplant but it was highly tuneable and something the Stag's V8 never was: robust and reliable.  Although it sounds (and would have been) anachronistic, Triumph would have been better advised to take the old four and create a 3.0 litre straight-eight with the power take-off in the centre.  Even with carburetors (certainly for the US market) it would have been unique (in a good way) and doing that while adding a few inches to the nose would have been a simpler and cheaper task than what was done.  A straight-eight Stag would also have reached the market earlier.      

Triumph tried using the fuel-injected 2.5 litre straight-six already in development for the TR5 (TR-250 in North America) but the rorty six was a sports car engine unsuited to the grand tourer Triumph intended the Stag to be and thus was born a 2.5 litre V8, part of a modular family.  Another innovation was that the V8 would use the Lucas mechanical fuel-injection adopted for the long-stroke six and this at a time when relatively few Mercedes-Benz were so equipped.  However, while the power output met the design objectives, it lacked the torque needed in a car of this nature, and the high-revving nature wasn’t suited to a vehicle intended to appeal to the US market where it was likely often to be equipped both with air-conditioning and automatic transmission; the decision was taken to increase capacity to three litres.  Because the quest was for more torque, it might be thought it would be preferred to lengthen the stroke but, for reasons of cost related to the modularity project, it was decided instead to increase the bore to a very over-square 86.00 x 64.50 mm (3.39 x 2.52 inches).  Despite this, the additional half-litre delivered the desired torque but the coolant passages remained the same so an engine with a capacity twenty percent larger and an increased swept volume, still used the already hardly generous internal cooling capacity of the 2.5.  It was another straw on the camel’s back.

It was also another delay and, within Leyland, questions were being raised about why a long and expensive programme was continuing to develop something which, on paper, appeared essentially to duplicate what Leyland then had in production: Rover’s version of the small-block Buick V8 which they’d much improved after buying the rights and tooling from General Motors.  Already used to much acclaim in their P5B and P6 saloons, it would remain in production for decades.  The Rover V8 did seem an obvious choice and quite why it wasn’t adopted still isn’t entirely certain.  One story is that the Triumph development team told Rover’s chief engineer, by then in charge of the Stag project, that the design changes associated with their V8 were by then so advanced that the Rover V8 “wouldn’t fit”.  While it seems strange an engineer might believe one small V8 wouldn’t fit into a relatively large engine bay which already housed another small V8, he would later admit that believe them he did.

Tight fit: Ford 289 (4.7) V8 in 1967 Sunbeam Tiger Mark II.  A small hatch was added to the firewall so one otherwise inaccessible spark plug could be changed from inside the cabin.

It actually wasn’t a wholly unreasonable proposition because to substitute one engine for another of similar size isn’t of necessity simple, things like cross-members and sump shapes sometimes rendering the task impossible, even while lots of spare space looms elsewhere and a similar thing had recently happened.  In 1967, after taking control of Sunbeam, Chrysler had intended to continue production of the Tiger, then powered by the 289 cubic inch (4.7 litre) Windsor V8 bought from Ford but with Chrysler’s 273 cubic inch (4.4 litre) LA V8 substituted.  Unfortunately, while 4.7 Ford litres filled it to the brim, 4.4 Chrysler litres overflowed; the small-block Ford truly was compact.  Allowing the Tiger to remain in production until the stock of already purchased Ford engines had been exhausted, Chrysler instead changed the advertising from emphasizing the “…mighty Ford V8 power plant” to the correct but less revealing “…an American V-8 power train”.

1973 Triumph Stag.

It may have been, in those perhaps kinder times, one engineer would believe another.  However, years later, a wrinkle was added to the story when, in an interview, one of the development team claimed what was said was that they felt the Rover V8 was “not a fit” for the Stag, not that “it wouldn’t fit”, an amusing piece of sophistry by which, it was said, they meant the characteristics of the engine weren't those required for the Stag.  That may have been being economical with the truth: any engineer looking at the specifications of the Rover unit would have understood it was highly adaptable and so for decades it proved to be, powering everything from the Land Rover to executive saloons and high-performance sports cars.

More plausible an explanation was competing economics.  Triumph was projecting a volume of between twelve and twenty-thousand a year for the Stag and, within the existing production facilities Rover could not have satisfied the demand in addition to their own expanding range, soon to include the Range Rover, added to which, an agreement had been reached to supply Morgan with engines for the +8 which would revitalize their fortunes.  The Morgan deal was for a relatively small volume but it was lucrative and the success of the +8 was already encouraging interest from other manufacturers.  So, with Triumph already in the throes of gearing up to produce their modular engines and Rover said to be unable to increase production without a large capital investment in plant and equipment, the fateful decision to use the Triumph engine was taken.

1974 Triumph Stag in magenta.  Some of the shades of brown, beige, orange and such used in the 1970s by British Leyland are not highly regarded but some were quite striking.

This was the critical point, yet even then it wasn’t too late.  Although Jaguar were emphatic about shutting down Daimler’s V8 lines and converting the factories to XJ6 production, it would have been possible to move the tooling and resume building a 2.5, 2.8 or 3.0 Daimler V8 for the Stag.  Rover had found managing a shift of some tooling across the Atlantic not too onerous a task so trucking stuff a few miles down the road should have been possible.  Ironically, Triumph argued their OHC V8 was a more modern thing than the then decade-old pushrod Daimler which, they suggested, wouldn’t be able to be adapted to upcoming US emission regulations and thus would have a short life.  Given the success of many in coaxing pushrod V8s through decades of US regulations, that probably wasn’t true but it had all become irrelevant; the decision had been taken to pursue Triumph’s modular option.  At least a decision had been taken that was final, unlike some British Leyland decisions of the era but it did mean the Stag’s introduction was further delayed.

1973 Triumph Stag.

Eventually, the Stag was launched in the summer of 1970 to a positive if not rapturous reception.  There was criticism of weight of the hardtop and the fabric roof not being as easy to us as the brochure suggested but most contemporary journalists seemed to enjoy the drive although some were disappointed with the lack of power; the wonderful exhaust note and rakish lines perhaps promising more but this was a relatively heavy four-seat grand tourer, not a sports-car.  Still, it would touch 120 mph (190 km/h) and its acceleration, brakes and handling were all at least comparable to the competition and, among that completion, it was close to unique.  A small-capacity V8, four-seat convertible with a choice of manual or automatic transmissions and all-independent suspension was a tempting specification in 1970; to get the same thing from Mercedes-Benz would cost more than three times as much.  Of course Stuttgart would probably have suggested their buyers got something more than three times as good, a not unreasonable point at the time and, given the prices at which 280SE 3.5 cabriolets now trade, the Germans appear to have been conservative in their three-fold estimate.  But it was value for money and had some nice touches, a heated rear window when that was a novelty in removable hard tops, a clever (and influential) multi-function display of warning lights and even, though curiously discordant, the option of wire wheels.

1974 Triumph Stag interior (manual o/d).

All concluded that driving one was a pleasant, if not especially rapid, experience but owning a Stag proved frequently nightmarish, all because of that unique engine.  Before many months had elapsed it was clear there were problems and, despite years of fixes and adjustments, the inherent design faults proved just too embedded in the mechanical DNA.  A change to the Rover V8 might, even then been the answer for the Stag otherwise suffered from little but by the early 1970s, Leyland was in dire financial straits, chronically under-capitalized and without any appetite to invest in a small volume product with an uncertain future.  Perhaps the earlier failure by Facel Vega to rescue the doomed Facellia by replacing the interesting but fragile French engine with a dreary but reliable Volvo unit played on their minds.  An upgraded automatic transmission, improvements to the cooling system and other detail changes to the engine were pursued and even an inconspicuous re-style was thought to warrant a “Mark 2” tag but the reputation never recovered.

Quixotic derivations were built but never pursued.  There were a couple of clumsy-looking prototype GT6-esque (the GT6 was a successful fastback version of the Spitfire roadster which used a the 2.0 litre straight-six in place of the smaller car's 1.3 litre four) hatchbacks which excited little interest and in 1972 Ferguson Research adapted two using their all-wheel-drive and anti-lock brake systems made famous on the Jensen FF; said to work most effectively, both still exist in private hands but there's nothing to suggest even limited production was ever contemplated.  In seven years, 25,877 Stags were built, 6,780 of which were exported but only 2,871 Americans were persuaded, a disappointment in a market of which much had been hoped.

End of the line: 1978 Triumph Stag.

The Stag however has enjoyed an extraordinary afterlife for something once thought a fragile failure.  Seduced by the style, the surprising practicality and the intoxicating burble of the exhaust, the survival rate has been high and most still run the Triumph V8 rather than the Rover V8, Ford V6 or any of the small-block Detroit V8s to which not a few owners once resorted.  Modern additions improve the experience too, five speed manual transmissions have been fitted, mostly to cars not equipped with the desirable overdrive and there's a popular and well-executed conversion to a four-speed ZF automatic which many describe as transformative.  There can be few engines which have for so long inspired owners to devote so much energy to rectifying the defects the factory never fixed.  High strength timing chains, external water pumps, improved radiators, better bearings and (the once rejected) correct head gaskets are now available, the consensus being that properly sorted and maintained by the book, it’s a solid, reliable engine, just not one which can be tolerate the sort of neglect Detroit's V8s of the era famously would endure with little complaint.

The Stag, November 2023 (the date stamp 21/8/2024 presumably wasn't caught during the pre-production process).

The Stag is the student newsletter of Reddam House Sydney, an independent, co-educational, non-denominational, day school, located in the leafy (Sydney code for “rich”) suburb of Woollahra.  An encouragingly professional example of student journalism, the content appears to reflect the generation's interest in popular culture (film, fashion, music, sport etc), climate change, consumer tech products and progressive politics (including the now obligatory trigger-warnings).  The writers take a few youthful liberties with conventions of formal English but that lends the publication an accessible, conversational tone.

Monday, May 29, 2023

Flak

Flak (pronounced flak)

(1) Ground-based anti-aircraft fire using explosive shells.

(2) In casual use, criticism; hostile reaction; abuse.

1938: From the German Flak (anti-aircraft gun), condensed from Fliegerabwehrkanone (literally "air defense gun"), the acronym deconstructed from Fl(ieger) + a(bwehr) + k(anone).  The sense of "anti-aircraft fire" became generalized in English from 1940 and the flak jacket is attested from 1956.  The metaphoric sense of "criticism" is American English circa 1963.  The synonym (and military verbal shorthand) is ack-ack, which appears to have developed independently in the German and allied military, the former using (from 1939) acht-acht (eight-eight) as an informal reference to the 88mm canon, the later being World War I (1914-1918) signalers' phonetic spelling of "AA".  Jargon has its own life and even after the NATO Phonetic Alphabet was standardized in 1956, ack-ack was so distinctive and well-known there was no suggestion it should be replaced by alpha-alpha. 

Lindsay Lohan in flak jacket.

The homophone flack (public relations spokesman) was first noted in US use in 1945, initially as a noun but, almost immediately became also a verb and it’s always had the sense of handling adverse criticism; if necessary by lying ("taking the flak" as it were).  The origin is murky; there’s a suggestion it was coined at entertainment industry magazine Variety but the first attested use was in another publication.  Flack was said to have emerged because of a coincidence in existence between flak being used to describe criticism (analogous with anti-aircraft fire) and a certain Mr Flack, said to be a public relations spokesman in the movie business but, given the accepted etymology, most regards this as an industry myth.

The 88mm Flak Canon

Panzer VI (Tiger Tank 1) with 88mm canon, Sicily, 1943.

The German 88 mm anti-aircraft canon was developed during the 1930s and was one of the most versatile and widely used weapons of World War II (1939-1945), deployed as field artillery, in anti-aircraft batteries, in ground assault and anti-tank roles and, on the larger tanks, as canon.  The naval 88, although the same caliber, was an entirely different weapon, dating from 1905.

88mm Flak Gun, Russia, 1941.

However, its stellar reputation belied to some extent, latter-day battlefield reality.  Like much mass-produced German weaponry of World War II, the 88 lost some of its comparative advantage as the allies’ quantitative and (with a few notable exceptions, especially in jet and rocket propulsion) qualitative superiority in materiel became apparent.  As an anti-aircraft gun, the Flak 88 needed high muzzle velocity to reach the altitudes at which bombers flew (20,000+ feet (6000+m)) and to achieve that the projectile itself was relatively small.  The high velocity made the Flak 88 a formidable anti-tank weapon, but did limit its effectiveness as field artillery.  Right to the end however, it remained a potent force wherever the terrain was suitable.

Zoo Flak Tower, Berlin, 1945.

One place the Flak 88s weren’t used was on the three huge concrete structures in Berlin called the Flak Towers.  Because the newer British and US bombers flew at higher altitudes, the bigger 128 mm canon was required.

The best known of the structures was the Berlin Zoo Flak Tower (Flakturm Tiergarten), the construction of which was induced by the Royal Air Force’s (RAF) first bombing raids on the city in August 1940.  Even by the standards of the time, these attacks were small-scale and of no obvious military value but, like the raid on Tokyo staged by the US in 1942 and the seemingly quixotic cross-border incursions by forces of indeterminate origin probing Russia’s “special military operation”, they compelled a disproportionately large re-allocation of civilian and military resources.  Early in the war, Hermann Göring (1893–1946; leading Nazi 1922-1945 and Reichsmarschall 1940-1945) in his capacity as head of the air force (Luftwaffe) had been asked if the industrial Ruhr was at risk of being bombed and he assured the nation: “No enemy bomber can reach the Ruhr… if one reaches the Ruhr, my name is not Göring. You can call me Meyer.”  The Reichsmarschall might have believed his own publicity but the RAF did not though few in 1940 thought the more distant Berlin was vulnerable and the first raids, pin-pricks though they were compared with what was to come, embarrassed the Nazi hierarchy and convinced Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) to fear that ominous mantra of the 1930s: “The bomber will always get through”.

Accordingly, needing to retain popular support and well aware of the capital’s lack of air-raid shelters (though the leading Nazis and their families were well provided for), the Führer ordered the construction of huge anti-aircraft gun towers, the designs submitted for his approval as early as the following March.  Construction began immediately and the first, the Berlin Zoo Flak Tower, was made operational within months and in its massiveness was entirely typical of the architectural practices of the Third Reich.  Reflecting Hitler’s preferences, it was rendered in a neo-Romantic style and any medieval soldier would have recognized it as a fortress, albeit one on a grand scale.  It gained its name by virtue of its proximity to the municipal zoo and the term “tower” was a rare instance of modesty of expression during the Nazi era.  The reinforced concrete structure was as tall as a 13-story building with a 70 x 70 m (230 x 230 feet) footprint and in addition to the flak guns on the roof, it housed an 85-bed hospital, extensive storage space for art works & cultural artifacts as well as the capacity to provide shelter for some 15,000 people (a number greatly exceeded later in the war when the raids became both frequent and severe.

The installed armament was a battery of four 128 mm (5 inch) twin Flak mounts, augmented by 20 mm (¾ inch) and 37-mm (1½ inch) guns on lower platforms, the sides of the tower 8 m (26 feet) thick, the roof 5 m (16 feet).  The versatility of the design was proven when in 1945 the city was under assault by the Red Army and the big guns were deployed at low angle, proving highly effective as tank destroyers and according to the estimates of both sides, delaying the entry of Soviet troops by almost two weeks.  Even then, after the city had been occupied and the surrender negotiated, the Germans remained in control of the tower, the thick walls having withstood all attacks.  After the war, it proved difficult to demolish and it was only in 1948, after several attempts and over 100 tons of explosives that finally it was razed, the land eventually returned to the Berlin Zoo.

Monday, June 13, 2022

Flair & Flare

Flair (pronounced flair)

(1) A natural or innate talent, aptitude, or ability, a bent or knack for something; instinctive discernment or perceptiveness.

(2) Smartness of style, manner, etc; stylishness or elegance.

(3) In hunting, scent; olfaction, the sense of smell (now rare).

(4) In Scots, a word for floor.

1350–1400: From the Middle English flayre, from the Old English flōr, from the Old French flaire (scent; odour (literally “sense of smell”) which endures in Modern French as flarier), a noun derivative of flairier (to reek; to give off a smell), ultimately from unattested Vulgar Latin flāgrāre, a dissimilated variant of the Classical Latin frāgrāre (to smell sweet), source also of fragrant in Modern English).  The related Latin form was flāgrō, a dissimilated variation of the verb frāgrō (emit a sweet smell).  The present participle is flairing, the past participle flaired).  In modern use, the original sense (scent, sense of smell etc) is rare and restricted to niches such as hunting and historical fiction.  The sense of "special aptitude" is an invention of American English, dating from 1925, probably from hunting and the notion of a hound's innate and extraordinary ability to track scent.  The popular uses now refer to (1) matters of style or (2) a particular talent or aptitude:

He has a flair for the business”.

That was Winston Churchill's (1875-1965; UK prime-minister 1940-1945 & 1951-1955) grudging assessment in 1944 of Field Marshal Sir Alan Brooke (later Lord Alanbrooke; 1883-1963, Chief of the Imperial General Staff (CIGS) 1941-1946) as a general.  It was about as close to praise as the CIGS received from his chief; the prime-minister liking his soldiers dashing and daring rather than cautious and conscientious.  The most common synonyms now (depending on context) include chic, dash, élan, grace, verve, oomph, ability, aptitude, elegance, genius, gift, glamour, knack, mastery, taste, bent, faculty, feeling, head, panache & pizzazz.

Flare (pronounced flair)

(1) To burn with an unsteady, swaying flame, as a torch or candle in the wind; the flame of this type.

(2) To blaze with a sudden burst of flame (often followed by up); the flame of this type.

(3) To start up or burst out in sudden, fierce intensity or activity (often followed by up).

(4) To become suddenly enraged; express sudden, fierce anger or passion (usually followed by up or out).

(5) To shine or glow.

(6) To spread gradually outward, as the end of a trumpet, the bottom of a wide skirt, or the sides of a ship.

(7) To display conspicuously or ostentatiously to display.

(8) To signal by flares of fire or light.

(9) To cause (something) to spread gradually outward in form.

(10) In metallurgy, to heat a high-zinc brass to such a high temperature that the zinc vapors begin to burn; to increase the temperature of (a molten metal or alloy) until a gaseous constituent of the melt burns with a characteristic flame or (of a molten metal or alloy) to show such a flame.

(11) In hydrocarbon extraction, to discharge and burn (excess gas) at a well or refinery.

(12) A bright blaze of fire or light used as a signal, a means of illumination or guidance etc; the device or substance used to produce such a blaze of fire or light.

(13) In fashion, a gradual spread outward in form; as in a skirt or trousers (known also as bell-bottoms).

(14) In engineering, an outward extension, usually as a curvature.

(15) In automotive design, an extension at the wheel arch of the fender (mudguard) to ensure tyres don’t extend beyond the bodywork.

(16) Something that spreads out.

(17) In optics, light, often unwanted or extraneous, reaching the image plane of an optical instrument, as a camera, resulting from reflections, scattering by lenses, and the like.

(18) In photography, a fogged appearance given to an image by reflection within a camera lens or within the camera itself.

(19) In astronomy (commonly as solar flare), a sudden and brief brightening of the solar atmosphere in the vicinity of a sunspot that results from an explosive release of particles and radiation.

(20) In US football (NFL), a short pass thrown to a back who is running toward a sideline and is not beyond the line of scrimmage.

(21) In television, a dark area on a CRT picture tube caused by variations in light intensity (mostly archaic).

(22) In aviation, the final transition phase of an aircraft landing, from the steady descent path to touchdown; to operate an aircraft to transition from downward flight to level flight just before landing.

(23) In pathology, an area of redness on the skin surrounding the primary site of infection or irritation.

(24) In engineering, as flare tube fitting, a flare nut being used to secure the flared tubing’s tapered end to the also tapered fitting, producing a pressure-resistant, leak-tight seal.

(25) In baseball (also as blooper or Texas leaguer), a low-fly ball that is hit in the region between the infielders and the outfielders.

(26) An inflammation such as of tendons (tendonitis) or joints (osteoarthritis).

(27) In pyrotechnics (also as Bengal light or fusee) a colored flare used as a warning on a railroad.  In US use, a parachute flare or Very light.

1540-1550: Of uncertain origin, the verb not appearing in English until the mid-sixteenth century, most etymologists thinking it probably related to the Latin flagrō (I burn) and may be from a Scandinavian source or the Dutch vlederen.  The Norwegian flara (to blaze; to flaunt in gaudy attire) has a similar meaning, but the English word predates it so it’s presumed derivative.  There may be some relationship with the Middle High German vlederen (to flutter (and represented in modern German by flattern)) but the evidence is scant.  In English, the original meaning was “spread out” (as applied to hair (and later structures such as the sides of ships)) leading to a comparison with the Old English flǣre (either of the spreading sides at the end of the nose).  The meaning "shine out with a sudden light" dates from the 1630s while the notion of "spreading out in display" emerged in the 1640s and is the source of the modern association with things which "spread gradually outward".

The noun flare (a giving off of a bright, unsteady light) dates from 1814 and was derived from the verb; from this followed (by 1883) the sense of "signal fire" (1883). Astronomical use dates from 1937.  The general meaning "a gradual widening or spreading" is emerged circa 1910, the best known modern example probably the “flares” (flared trousers), first noted in 1964, actually an adaptation of earlier forms of design but a fashion trend which is associated with the hippie era and lasting until the mid 1970s.  Flares then became suddenly unfashionable but revivals since have been frequent and they now enjoy a standardized niche in the industry.

In idiomatic use, the flare-up (a sudden burst) applied by 1827 to an argument and by 1858 to light, derived from the verbal phrase and contemporary publications noted the vogue flare-up enjoyed as a street expression in 1830s London.  The 1660s noun flatus (wind in the bowels) was a direct borrowing from the Latin flatus (a blowing, breathing, snorting; a breaking wind), past participle of flare (to blow, puff) from the primitive Indo-European root bhle- (to blow).  From this came the 1590s adjective flatulent (affected by digestive gas), from the sixteenth century French flatulent, from the Modern Latin flatulentus, from Latin flatus.

Flare is a verb (used without object) & noun, flared is a verb & adjective and flaring is a verb (the noun derived from the verb).  The present participle is flaring, the past participle flared and the noun plural is flares.  Synonyms, depending on context, include flame, erupt, explode, flash, blaze, blaze, boil over, break out, burn, explode, flare up, flash, flicker, glow, seethe, widen, burst, dart, dazzle, flutter, fume, glare, rant, shimmer & broaden.

Worn with flair: Lindsay Lohan (left) in peach flared trousers, Los Angeles, 2012 and (right) out shopping in flared jeans, Milan, 2015.

1975 Porsche 911S (left) with standard body and 1979 Porsche 930 3.3 (right; often called the 911 Turbo) with flared wheel arches, a body style which came generally to be called the “wide-body”.

1963 AC Shelby Cobra 289 (left, retrospectively dubbed the "slab-side") and 1967 AC Shelby Cobra 427 S/C (right) with flared wheel arches.  Aspects of the bulge-bodied 427 had actually already been seen on competition versions of the 289 and it has for decades been the most popular style of body (regardless of the engine installed) used by producers of replicas, there now being in excess of 50,000 of these, dwarfing the production of the thousand-odd originals.

For many years, most cars have used slightly flared wheel arches but more exaggerated extensions are often added to high-performance models to enable wider wheels and tyres to be fitted.  If the high-performance version is to be a regular-production model, the usual practice is the integrate the flares into the fender.

1975 Holden Torana SL/R 5000 L34 (left) and 2020 Dodge Challenger SRT (right).  Limited production models however often have flares added which are obviously “tacked-on”.  That can be part of their attraction, giving the things the appearance of something obviously intended for competition, emphasizing too their “limited production” status.  The 1975 Torana L34 (and the 1977 A9X) was an extreme example, leaving exposed the bolts attaching the flares to the fenders.

Peter Brock (1945-2006) in his self-built Austin A30 Holden sports sedan (left), Hume Weir, circa 1969 and Harry Lefoe's Hillman Imp (right) at the same circuit in 1971.  Both were typical of the racing cars built by amateurs in the 1960s to compete in events with very loose regulations.  The prevailing theory seems to have been to find the smallest possible car and add to it the largest engine which fell conveniently to hand.  Brock used a 179 cubic inch (2.9 litre) Holden six in the little car which had begun life with a 803 cm3 (49 cubic inch) four yet even that wasn’t the most extreme of the time.  The Hillman Imp's light-weight and diminutive dimensions held great appeal for Australian earth-moving contractor Harry Lefoe (1936-2000) who had a spare 302 cubic inch (4.9 litre) Ford (Windsor) V8 sitting in his workshop.  By then, the Imp was a Chrysler product but because the published guidelines of the Australian Sports Sedan Association (ASSA) restricted engines to those from cars built by the manufacturer of the body-shell, the small-block Ford V8 could be put in an Imp because it had been used in the earlier Sunbeam Tiger.  So the big lump of an iron V8 replaced the Imp's 875 cm3 (53 cubic inch) aluminium four and such was the difference in size that Lefoe insisted his Imp had become "mid-engined" although it seems not to have imparted the handling characteristics associated with the configuration, the stubby hybrid infamous for its tendency to travel sideways.  It was never especially successful but it was loud, fast, spectacular and always a crowd favourite.  Also typical was the simple “flaring” of the wheel arches, easily crafted with sheet metal and often integrated with aerodynamic “improvements” created with by guesswork rather than wind-tunnels or computer emulations.  The technique was known as the “square flare”.

1974 Ford Cologne Capri.  Factories with bigger budgets sometimes use both wind-tunnels and computer emulation to optimize the shape of flares, often using them to direct airflow to radiators or brakes as well as permit the fitment of wider tyres.

1987 Mercedes-Benz 300E (left) and 1991 Mercedes-Benz 500E; note the modest flared wheel arches on the 500E which added about two inches to the width of the car, something which proved surprisingly significant.

In 1991, Mercedes-Benz finally gave the W124 (1984-1995 (body-styles other than the four-door sedan would remain in production until 1997 and 46 500Es were actually built in 1990)) an engine with the power to exploit the fine underpinnings.  The 500E (later E500 when the naming system was updated) was a response to demand from those who hankered after something like the old 300SEL 6.3 (W109 1968-1972) as well as a long-overdue model to compete with BMW’s M5 but, with development of the new S-Class (W140 1991-1998) over-budget and behind schedule, the production work on the 500E project was out-sourced to Porsche.  Porsche’s engineers did a good job mating the 5.0 litre (303 cubic inch) V8 to the chassis, a task which included some modifications to the suspension and a flaring of the wheel arches to accommodate the wider track.  So subtle were the flares that they’re almost imperceptible to the casual viewer and without a standard W124 with which to compare, probably few notice.  That’s not surprising given the 500E was a modest 56 mm (2.2 inches) wider than the more prosaic models (1,796 mm (70.7 in) vs 1,740 mm (68.5 in)).

However, those two-odd inches of additional width created by the wheel arch flares proved an unanticipated obstacle to volume production, the prototype found to be too wide to proceed at several points on the W124 production line.  As a glitch (in communication and systems management rather than engineering), it recalled an incident which afflicted the somewhat more ambitious Hubble Space Telescope (HST) which, upon deployment, was found to have one incorrectly ground mirror which blurred the view.  In software and hardware, NASA found a solution, a part of which was effected during a celebrated (and anyway scheduled) servicing mission.  On Earth, things were simpler for Mercedes-Benz which contracted with Porsche to handle part of the production process, the cars shuttled by truck between the two factories, located a few miles apart in Stuttgart.  That was inconvenient for Mercedes-Benz but fortuitous for Porsche, which, hard-hit by the recession-induced downturn in the sports car market, needed something to make use of their now substantially idle facilities.  The well-publicized arrangement meant it took eighteen days to complete every 500E but it added to the allure of the car and even at a very high price, 10,479 were sold and they were in many ways the blueprint for the AMG range which followed.  Encouraged by the success, the factory released the 400E (1991-1995 and later renamed E420) which, with a 4.2 litre (256 cubic inch) V8, didn’t demand the fitment of the five litre car’s wider track and flared wheel arches.  Being thus able to use the standard W124 production line, it was built at a much lower cost and 22,802 were sold.

Built by Ferrari: 1973 Dino 246GTS with "chairs & flares" options.

The rhyming colloquialism “chairs and flares” (C&F to the Ferrari cognoscenti and these days the early Dinos are an accepted part of the family) is a reference to a pair of (separately available) options available on later production Dino 246s.  The options were (1) seats with inserts (sometimes in a contasting color) in the style used on the 365GTB/4 (Daytona) & (2) wider Campagnolo Elektron wheels (which the factory only ever referred to by size) which necessitated flared wheel-arches.  In the early 1970s the factory wasn’t too punctilious in the keeping of records so it’s not known how many cars were originally built equipped with the wider (7½ x 14” vs 6½ x 14”) wheels but some privately maintained registers exist and on the basis of these it’s believed production was probably between 200-250 cars from a total run of 3569 (2,295 GT coupés & 1,274 GTS spyders (targa)).  They appear to have been most commonly ordered on UK & US market cars (although the numbers for Europe are described as “dubious” and thought an under-estimate; there are also an unknown number in other countries), the breakdown of verified production being:

246GT: UK=22, Europe=5, US=5.
246GTS: UK=21, Europe=2, US=91.

The “chairs and flares” cars are those which have both the Elektron option and the Daytona-style seats but because they were available separately, some were built with only one of the two, hence the existence of other slang terms in the Dino world including “Daytona package”, “Sebring spyders” and, in the UK, the brutish “big arches”.  In 1974, the Dino's option list (in US$) comprised:

Power windows: $270.00
Metalic Paint: $270.00
Leather upholstery: &450.00
Daytona type central seat panels: $115.00
Air-conditioning: $770.00
14 x 7½ wheels & fender flares: $680.00
AM/FM/SW radio: $315.00
Electric antenna & speakers: $100.00

At a combined US$795.00, the C&F combination has proved a good investment, now adding significantly to the price of the anyway highly collectable Dino.  Although it's hard to estimate the added value because so many other factors influence calculation, all else being equal, the premium would seem to to be well over US$100,000.  Because it involves only wheels, upholstery and metal, the modifications are not technically difficult to emulate although the price of a modified vehicle will not match that of an original although unlike some of the more radical modifications to Ferraris (such as conversions to roadsters), creating a C&F out of a standard 246 seems not to lower its value.  These things are always relative; in 1974 the C&F option added 5.2% to the Dino GTS's list price and was just under a third the cost of a new small car such as the Chevrolet Vega. 

Gas flaring on off-shore oil-rig.

It’s surprising gas flaring isn’t more controversial than it is.  A practice which dates from the earliest days of oil extraction, it was originally merely a safety procedure, disposing of the surplus and unwanted gas unavoidably associated with oil production but has long been recognized as wasteful of a valuable natural resource which, if harvested, could be used to generate energy now produced by more polluting sources such as coal.  The volume of gas flared annually (ie burned off in the atmosphere) is sufficient to satisfy the energy needs of all sub-Saharan Africa.  Additionally, the flaring process, which annually burns some 144 billion m3 of gas, is estimated to contribute to the atmosphere about 2.8 kilograms of CO2 equivalent emissions for each m3, resulting in over 400 million tons of CO2 annually and, the methane emissions resulting from the inefficiency of the flare combustion contribute significantly to global warming.  This is especially acute in the medium term because methane is over 80 times more powerful than CO2 as a greenhouse gas so on a 20-year timeframe, the multiplier effect means the annual CO2 equivalent emissions are increased by nearly 100 million tons.  There are technical solutions to this which would remove the need for most flaring as well as providing a valuable energy source less polluting than coal or diesel but, for the oil industry, the economics are not compelling.  Nor, given the relationships between the fossil-fuel industry and politicians, does there seem to be any hint of political will to pursue the issue.