My 1992 Fiat Elba CSL - I Didn't Know A Fiat Could Be This Nice

Around the time we got our Fiat Uno, my father-in-law decided it was time to update his car fleet, partly due to age and also for tax incentives. So, I accompanied him to check out the available options in Uruguay. He typically preferred “long-roof” cars; i.e., station wagons, because his job often required transporting heavy materials or finished furniture, and station wagons made it easier to load and unload.

The first dealership we visited was a Ford dealership. They were showcasing the new Versailles, which was essentially a VW Santana with a different trim. Confused? Well, during the late 80s and early 90s, Volkswagen and Ford of Brazil had formed a joint venture called Autolatina, primarily to share bodies and engines. This meant you had the Versailles, which was a Volkswagen with a Ford badge. The Del Rey, which was a Ford with a VW engine. The Logus, which was a two-door Escort with a trunk and a VW engine… you get the idea. It didn’t work out too well, but not because the products were necessarily bad.

The Versailles/Santana was a 4.7-meter-long car, and it was initially imported to Uruguay in two trim levels: the 2.0 GL and the 2.0 Ghia, with the Royale being added later (a two-door station wagon). The Santana also came in two trim levels, but the wagon was a four-door. Regardless of trim level, all models had several features the basic Versailles GL lacked; it came just with air conditioning, power steering, and tinted windows. The upholstery was typical of Brazilian VW at the time, which meant it was very good—comparable to the seats in a Golf of the same era.

This is the Versailles Ghia dashboard, evidenced by the lack of blind spots for buttons and the rev counter. The GL was more spartan.

For what was available here in 1992, the Versailles was a great deal, especially the GL, as it offered plenty of space, a spacious trunk, air conditioning, and power steering at a reasonable price.

So, there I am, eyeing the Versailles like a hungry wolf looking at a sheep. My father-in-law turns around, opens the door of a Fiat Premio, sits inside, and says, “This is the car I need…”

1988 Fiat Premio photo from the CC Cohort by Alberto Simon.

“Beg your pardon? You’re 54, can afford a nice car with accessories, and you say you like that Fiat, which is used, has a 1300 engine, and, well… is a Fiat?”

“Well, yes, its seats are really upright, and they’ll help with my lower back.”

“Lo and behold, listen to me. A Fiat 1300, assembled here in Uruguay, is not a good buy. It will rust in no time…”

“Excuse me, sir…” said the salesman, as he joined in. “Remember, we are also Fiat dealers. We’re starting deliveries of the Elba CSL 1600, which is just like the Duna Weekend wagon but assembled in Brazil. It has a 1600 engine, power windows, power locks, is full of soundproofing material, comes with an extended warranty for rust-through, and costs… yes, only the same price as the Versailles.”

Fiat Elba photo from the CC Cohort by Alberto Simon.

A few days later, my father-in-law was the proud owner of his new Elba wagon, which was nothing more than a longer Fiat Uno, with the same wheelbase. So, essentially, he was getting a smaller car for the price of a larger, better-engineered one, in my opinion.

The car probably had around 1,000 km on the clock when one day, my sister-in-law was driving it, and a little smoke appeared from under the hood as the temperature needle shot upwards. She stopped, waited, and then continued driving. No damage, no problem for now. My father-in-law decided that dealer service was too expensive, so he took it to his friendly corner mechanic, who was an expert in fixing Ford T magnetos and manual starting procedures. The mechanic pronounced the car sound and fit.

A year later, having had a particularly good season, my father-in-law decided that he really needed air conditioning and had received a generous tax return. Time to spend on a new vehicle. He reasoned that the Elba had been an excellent car and he didn’t want to go shopping around. He heard that Fiat was importing the same car but now with more equipment, including air conditioning, tinted windows, and a simple computer that indicated when a light wasn’t working (i.e. idiot lights):

He called and asked me, “Do you happen to know where they might have an air-conditioned Elba?”

What am I, a walking catalog?

Turns out, yes, I was a walking catalog. I started calling all the major and minor Fiat dealers in the city looking for an air-conditioned unit. Not a single one was to be found. After several days of running around, I finally found a red one at a nearby used car dealership. Somehow, they had gotten hold of it, but it wasn’t advertised. I hated both the color and the black accents, which didn’t appear well finished, deep down, I was worried the car might have been involved in an accident and repainted. The doors didn’t close as well as my father-in-law’s had.

I called him and expressed my concerns, though he didn’t pay much attention to them. He said, “Do you have a grand?” “Yes.” “OK, please go there and give that as a down payment.”

A while later, in 1996 I was in the process of selling our Uno. My father-in-law’s first Elba had 18,000 km by then, but was almost never used since the air-conditioned one had entered the fleet. So we asked if we could borrow the Elba, let’s say for a decade or so, until we could buy it.

“Sure, take it.”

Those 18,000 km hadn’t been as kind to the car as one might expect. Clearly, the overheating I mentioned earlier had taken its toll, and the car was smoking a little. But I was delighted by the Elba’s power and the space. The steering was much heavier than the Uno’s, as the front had a lot more heft and the tires were 165s instead of the 145s our Uno had. I also installed rear diagonal seatbelts to complement the original ones, and with that, the twin child seats fit very nicely.

My father-in-law was quite used to doing most maintenance on his Elba by himself, and he was eager to teach Junior. Judging by my kid’s size, this must have been around March 1996. We still didn’t own the Elba (ours was white, his was red), but these front-side and rear views show much of the car.

And of course, I’d be willing to lie on the floor under my car with my grandkids if my body would allow it, but it’s unlikely to be tomorrow. You can see the future engineer in yellow on the left and the future neuroscientist just to the right. They are probably learning to fix the car’s air conditioner.

During our ownership of the Elba, the car was stolen once. Regardless, I never had the starting switch repaired. I just had my mechanic disassemble the steering lock, to ensure it wouldn’t get stuck in the future.

In other areas, I had all the shock absorbers replaced. The engine also needed a ring job and several relatively minor valve and cam adjustments, but we never got them quite right. Then, at around 120,000 km, the Elba overheated while returning from a vacation, partly due to being packed to the top. No damage to the engine was done because I reacted quickly, but a new radiator was installed.

Still, the car was aging too quickly by then. The front end needed further attention, and I didn’t want to spend any more money. I reasoned that I’d rather get power steering and air conditioning in a new car rather than restore the old one.

Nonetheless, the Elba was an excellent Fiat.

Have a great week!