It goes something like this...
Summer of 1993, I am fifteen years old and back east visiting my grandmother and some aunts and uncles for the summer. I live in the Monterey / Santa Cruz area of California but have been to Patchogue several times for the summer. I never once though took notice to a car my uncle owned until this particular summer. Perhaps I never saw it, or just never thought about it.
Enamored with the thoughts of one day owning a 1966 Cobra, perhaps a 1965 Fastback Mustang seemed more in my reach, but I was more of a Chevy kid really. I loved the front end of the 1970-73 Camaro’s and the round taillights. Don’t get me wrong, 1967-69’s were beautiful too. Then there was the T-buckets, and who could forget the split window Corvette or a 1968 427 big block.
My Uncle Paul is telling me about his car, a Sunbeam Tiger. A what? He explains to me that when they came out, some called them the Corvette chaser as they were winning races against the Corvette’s. He told me stories of racing Mustangs, Camaro’s Cuda’s and the like across Long Island and how this little car was plain fast. He told me he parked it a year or so ago and has been meaning to pull it out of grandma’s garage and drain the gas. I explained I’d be more than happy to help. We agreed that the next morning he would pull it out of the garage, leave it in the backyard driveway so I could start it up and let it run to burn off the gas while he was at work. Easy, no problem.
The next morning I go out back not knowing what to expect, and man, this little thing is cool looking. Small, convertible has the British lines, somewhat Cobra like. Put the key in, knock it out of gear and step on the seemingly heave clutch. Turn it over and it fires right up. I was not expecting the purr that came from the exhaust. Even though the car is rough, I think I just fell in love!
Uncle Paul gets home and I explain to him I run the car out of gas and how I noticed the brake master was low. Perhaps that is why the brakes were spongy. I let him know I filled the master up with fluid and I would be happy to bleed them on the weekend. “What brake fluid did you use?” is the question I received. I explained “The DOT 3 that was on the shelf” looking at him like he was dumb, what was he thinking. His eyes grew big as he almost blows a gasket, “That will eat the lines, it needs to be DOT 4, we need to get it out of there.” He immediately left the room.
A few days later once he has settled down we talk a bit more about the car and its stories. I suggest to him that I am getting my license in the next few months and how the car might enjoy California since it is just sitting. “Shaun, you will kill yourself in that car, sorry.” The summer flew by, skim boarding on Fire Island, hanging out with some girls I met, Fishing and crabbing, but I did not forget about that Tiger.
Somewhere around the age nineteen, Uncle Paul is out visiting. I play sax and was going to go sit in at a jam session in Monterey and offered to take him along with me. As we were out, curiosity struck and I had to ask about the little Tiger. He still had the car, but the oh so familiar answer came out of his mouth “Shaun, you will kill yourself in that car, sorry.”
Twenty one years old, I go back to Patchogue to help my Grandmother pack he house so she can move upstate near my uncle Donald. During my trip I get to hanging out with my uncle and of course “Shaun, you will kill yourself in that car, sorry.” When is this answer going to go away. “If I ever sell it, you will be the first one I call.” Yeah, whatever.
It was now April of 2001, a month or two after getting home from New York, I went and bought myself a brand new Camaro SS. Within 3 months I was modifying the car. By 2002 it had a set of headers, ported throttle body, K&N filter, air lid and a 125hp dry shot of N20. I was absolutely stupid in this car. I think it went triple digits daily. I was always trying to find someone that wanted to play on the freeway. One night on highway 280, I opened it up and was doing 148mph before shifting from 5th to 6th gear. By 2003 the car had a cam in addition to the other modifications mentioned above, 4.10 gears, a set of slicks and a bit more. Car made 510rwhp. It got sold in 2004 to fund a 1973 Camaro I bought for $300.
Though I started building the Camaro (Which is still a work in progress), bought a 1963 Chevy C10 that I have built and drag race to this day (last time out it went 10.54 @ 122 on motor), own a 1967 Continental convertible suicide door, and had a 67 Cougar; I never forgot about the Tiger.
Last August while at Sacramento raceway, I get a phone call from my mom. “Shaun, Your uncle Paul has asked that I call you to see if you still have interest in the Tiger.” What??? Did I just hear that right?
It did not take long for me to collect his phone number and discuss options. He suggested I have the car shipped out to me and look it over before we agree on a price. Well, it is here, and I haven’t had a lot of time to do much with it yet. I have looked it over and it needs a LOT of work. This last weekend I was going to see about firing it up. We have not figured out a price yet.
I drained the oil and filled it up with some Delo (high zinc for the flat tappet cam)
I was planning on pulling the distributor to prime the oil system before turning it over.
I also don’t trust what fuel might be in the tank, if any, so I was going to undo the fuel line and put it in a 5 gallon can with some rubber fuel line.
I decided to just check the battery terminals before I go too far. Cleaned them and wanted to make sure I know for sure which one was ground (I never trust old wiring). Both show going to ground.
That’s where I stopped for the day and decided that I need to try and buy a shop manual.
So, that is where I am at today. Since my wife and I will be moving to a house we are currently buying, it will probably sit untouched for another month or two. I’ll get a shop manual and start reading up on it. I just home it is not as complex as the rear window circuit on my Lincoln 3 switches and 3 relays for each rear window. Oh, let alone the convertible top system.
I will keep things updated. BTW, the plan for this car is a bone stock resto at some point. I have no plans of hot rodding this car.
Summer of 1993, I am fifteen years old and back east visiting my grandmother and some aunts and uncles for the summer. I live in the Monterey / Santa Cruz area of California but have been to Patchogue several times for the summer. I never once though took notice to a car my uncle owned until this particular summer. Perhaps I never saw it, or just never thought about it.
Enamored with the thoughts of one day owning a 1966 Cobra, perhaps a 1965 Fastback Mustang seemed more in my reach, but I was more of a Chevy kid really. I loved the front end of the 1970-73 Camaro’s and the round taillights. Don’t get me wrong, 1967-69’s were beautiful too. Then there was the T-buckets, and who could forget the split window Corvette or a 1968 427 big block.
My Uncle Paul is telling me about his car, a Sunbeam Tiger. A what? He explains to me that when they came out, some called them the Corvette chaser as they were winning races against the Corvette’s. He told me stories of racing Mustangs, Camaro’s Cuda’s and the like across Long Island and how this little car was plain fast. He told me he parked it a year or so ago and has been meaning to pull it out of grandma’s garage and drain the gas. I explained I’d be more than happy to help. We agreed that the next morning he would pull it out of the garage, leave it in the backyard driveway so I could start it up and let it run to burn off the gas while he was at work. Easy, no problem.
The next morning I go out back not knowing what to expect, and man, this little thing is cool looking. Small, convertible has the British lines, somewhat Cobra like. Put the key in, knock it out of gear and step on the seemingly heave clutch. Turn it over and it fires right up. I was not expecting the purr that came from the exhaust. Even though the car is rough, I think I just fell in love!
Uncle Paul gets home and I explain to him I run the car out of gas and how I noticed the brake master was low. Perhaps that is why the brakes were spongy. I let him know I filled the master up with fluid and I would be happy to bleed them on the weekend. “What brake fluid did you use?” is the question I received. I explained “The DOT 3 that was on the shelf” looking at him like he was dumb, what was he thinking. His eyes grew big as he almost blows a gasket, “That will eat the lines, it needs to be DOT 4, we need to get it out of there.” He immediately left the room.
A few days later once he has settled down we talk a bit more about the car and its stories. I suggest to him that I am getting my license in the next few months and how the car might enjoy California since it is just sitting. “Shaun, you will kill yourself in that car, sorry.” The summer flew by, skim boarding on Fire Island, hanging out with some girls I met, Fishing and crabbing, but I did not forget about that Tiger.
Somewhere around the age nineteen, Uncle Paul is out visiting. I play sax and was going to go sit in at a jam session in Monterey and offered to take him along with me. As we were out, curiosity struck and I had to ask about the little Tiger. He still had the car, but the oh so familiar answer came out of his mouth “Shaun, you will kill yourself in that car, sorry.”
Twenty one years old, I go back to Patchogue to help my Grandmother pack he house so she can move upstate near my uncle Donald. During my trip I get to hanging out with my uncle and of course “Shaun, you will kill yourself in that car, sorry.” When is this answer going to go away. “If I ever sell it, you will be the first one I call.” Yeah, whatever.
It was now April of 2001, a month or two after getting home from New York, I went and bought myself a brand new Camaro SS. Within 3 months I was modifying the car. By 2002 it had a set of headers, ported throttle body, K&N filter, air lid and a 125hp dry shot of N20. I was absolutely stupid in this car. I think it went triple digits daily. I was always trying to find someone that wanted to play on the freeway. One night on highway 280, I opened it up and was doing 148mph before shifting from 5th to 6th gear. By 2003 the car had a cam in addition to the other modifications mentioned above, 4.10 gears, a set of slicks and a bit more. Car made 510rwhp. It got sold in 2004 to fund a 1973 Camaro I bought for $300.
Though I started building the Camaro (Which is still a work in progress), bought a 1963 Chevy C10 that I have built and drag race to this day (last time out it went 10.54 @ 122 on motor), own a 1967 Continental convertible suicide door, and had a 67 Cougar; I never forgot about the Tiger.
Last August while at Sacramento raceway, I get a phone call from my mom. “Shaun, Your uncle Paul has asked that I call you to see if you still have interest in the Tiger.” What??? Did I just hear that right?
It did not take long for me to collect his phone number and discuss options. He suggested I have the car shipped out to me and look it over before we agree on a price. Well, it is here, and I haven’t had a lot of time to do much with it yet. I have looked it over and it needs a LOT of work. This last weekend I was going to see about firing it up. We have not figured out a price yet.
I drained the oil and filled it up with some Delo (high zinc for the flat tappet cam)
I was planning on pulling the distributor to prime the oil system before turning it over.
I also don’t trust what fuel might be in the tank, if any, so I was going to undo the fuel line and put it in a 5 gallon can with some rubber fuel line.
I decided to just check the battery terminals before I go too far. Cleaned them and wanted to make sure I know for sure which one was ground (I never trust old wiring). Both show going to ground.
That’s where I stopped for the day and decided that I need to try and buy a shop manual.
So, that is where I am at today. Since my wife and I will be moving to a house we are currently buying, it will probably sit untouched for another month or two. I’ll get a shop manual and start reading up on it. I just home it is not as complex as the rear window circuit on my Lincoln 3 switches and 3 relays for each rear window. Oh, let alone the convertible top system.
I will keep things updated. BTW, the plan for this car is a bone stock resto at some point. I have no plans of hot rodding this car.
