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.