Honestly, how could I resist this!
It all started innocently enough.
I like to visit used bookstores when I’m out of town. My wife and I were staying in Anaheim, and I found the Bookman Bookstore.
I thought that this was just a book, but it turned out to be Pandora’s Box!
In the auto section, I found a Brooklands Books anthology on the Jaguar XJS. Honestly, this was not a car that I had spent much time thinking about. I’d seen one years ago and I recall that I couldn’t identify it until I saw the Jaguar badge. Then I remembered reading about it in Car and Driver magazine.
I bought the book and read it over the next few days. I showed it to my wife and told her, “I bought the book, but don’t worry, I’d never be crazy enough to buy one of those cars!”
Funny how things turn out. After reading the book I did some web searching and discovered the Jaguar Forum. I read all about the car and how problematic they could be. Then I started looking on CL. I also downloaded the Kirby Palm book on the XJS. This is a very detailed 900 page volume with tips on maintenance and repair. Especially how to source generic replacements for some of the car’s hard-to-source parts.
Nothing scary about this.
These are cars that scare most buyers, and as I learned, that fear is justified! It is believed that these cars are notoriously unreliable and very expensive to fix. Most owners would not think of DIYing with this car. And they’d be right! This is why they often end up sitting unused and non running for years. Some end up in sympathetic inside storage. Most end up in driveways, backyards, and storage yards. This is why they are the cheapest 12 cylinder car that you’ll find. And, there are lots more of them around than you might imagine!
So that was a great part of the appeal, an almost exotic car for peanuts! The ultimate end run!
I found my car on CL being sold out of an estate sale in Southern California. The car looked very tempting in the photos.
I should have realized that a car like this, belongs to someone that owns a house like that.
Simple but handsome design.
It was bright red convertible with a black top and a tan leather interior. The ’89 model was the first year of the factory convertible that was built in-house, and was not a coupe conversion.
I had seen a Hess and Eisenhardt conversion and they were pretty wonky in some areas. Those had two gas tanks, one stacked above the other! The top header panel in front, which clamped the top down, was downright medieval. The factory car eliminated those areas and sold for sixty thousand dollars.
It wasn’t all peaches and cream. This is what happens without cupholders.
The body was straight, and all the trim looked great. The paint was quite good. It had a set of chromed alloy laced spoke type wheels. The top was worn and would need replacing. The interior was in good shape, except that the driver’s seat bottom cushion was cracked and broken. The leather was that stiff.
The car displayed 102,000 miles on the odometer and it was offered at a very low price. 1,200 dollars, so I didn’t think that I should be so picky.
The car started up with a jump and ran well enough to settle into a fairly smooth idle once it warmed up. There was no indication of the dreaded dropped valve seat syndrome. This is where the valve seat inserts become loose from the head due to overheating. I’d seen and heard that in the H&E car that I mentioned and it sounded as rattly as an old Chevy pickup.
The car would drive back and forth, though it did seem to slip a bit in ‘drive’. But it had been sitting for quite a while. I had encountered that same problem with my late FIL’s ’81 Cadillac Fleetwood. I figured that it just needed some driving, a bottle of transmission additive, and some new fluid to come back to life. They both used the same GM Turbo 400 transmission.
The backstory on the car was that it was part of a collection of cars that the owner had amassed. He had owned more desirable cars, like 60’s Mopars and some early Thunderbirds, but his daughter told me that the Jag had been one of his favorites. He had been ill with cancer, and his cars all sat for a couple of years before his passing. He was a relatively young man in his mid 50’s. His daughter and SIL handled the sale.
Unfortunately, the car’s title was in the deceased owner’s name only. There is a certain amount of paperwork involved in this situation, including a copy of the death certificate. I had not done my research and did not realize what would be needed to transfer the title to me. His widow was still grieving and I didn’t want to press the point at the time, even though I had driven over 350 miles. I thought that we had agreed the SIL would gather all the necessary documents and would send them to me a little later. That didn’t happen. I had to contact him a couple of times. It turned out that the widow was gracious enough to arrange everything, and I agreed to meet her back in So Cal to pick up the needed documents.
It wasn’t that they were trying to scam me, it was just a difficult time for the family and they were distracted. The lesson is: When buying an estate car be sure to do your research, and be sure that the documents are ready and complete at the time of the sale.
I was incredibly happy on this first day!
I had driven down in my truck, and arranged to pick up a trailer at a nearby U-Haul. After I decided to buy it, I retrieved the trailer and returned to the seller’s home. The car drove onto the trailer without an issue.
Even though it is a very mechanically dense and complex car, I was encouraged by people on the forum and by reading Kirby’s book. Many, actually most, operations were time-consuming because the car hadn’t been designed for easy access and repair. But if you could deal with the car on its own terms, then you could/might be successful.
The first rule is: Label everything.
Some jobs were as big a hassle as imagined; changing the spark plugs was quite a chore. Removing and replacing the transmission was something that I couldn’t imagine doing… until I did!
The car needed lots of deferred maintenance, like every cheap Jag that is offered for sale.
An automotive pig in a blanket!
Jaguar has a unique front suspension, not because it is all that different from other cars, but because the springs are twice as long as any car I’ve ever worked on! The suspension bushings in the XJS were inherited from the early XJ6 sedan. With American cars, the bushings are big and beefy, and will usually last well past the 100K mark. Jaguar has a bushing designed like a pig in a blanket. The sausage is a steel tube surrounded by a thin rubber covering, with no shoulders to absorb side loads. It’s no wonder that they don’t last very long. A special tool is needed to remove the springs so that the suspension can be disassembled. I found the factory tool offered at a couple of sites for 600.00.
Engineered for long life? Maybe not.
Jaguar eventually went to a GM transmission, a version of the reliable Turbo 400 Hydramatic. It uses a special case to mate with the V12. The transmission is a very tight fit in the chassis. There is no access to the bell housing bolts from under the hood. Very little servicing can be done with the transmission in the car, this is especially true of the convertible, which lacks access panels in the trans tunnel. Therefore you can’t service the governor without dropping the trans a few inches.
The rear transmission mount is a combination of a rubber mount suspended by a heavy coil spring. The idea was that in the event of a severe frontal impact, the transmission would “submarine” under the floor pan, and the engine-transmission unit would be displaced under the car, instead of intruding into the passenger compartment. Considering that the car had a top speed of over 140 mph. that might be a good idea.
I was lucky to find a good used transmission plucked from a car that had suffered a fire under the hood. It was listed on CL. by Continetal Motors in Oakland, a Jag specific shop. The burned car had belonged to a customer and the shop assured me that the transmission was in good shape. 180.00 was a very good price.
Of course, I would handle the transmission removal and installation.
First I had to get the car up far enough to work underneath. Don’t worry. I put ramps under the front wheels and had additional jackstands also underneath.
You have to approach the car on its own terms. The two transmission cooling lines had to be disconnected, as well as their fittings in the case. These fittings had two inches of threads that went into the case. Due to the limited access, I found that I could only turn them 1/8th of a turn at a time. I was lying on my back, craning my neck, reaching up between the frame rails. I was working steadily; turn the wrench, remove, reposition, and turn the fitting another eight of a turn. Maddening!
I suddenly became engulfed in an overwhelming feeling of futility and frustration. I crawled out from under the car. I needed to clear my head.
Those are one-half of those darn fittings.
During my break, I gave myself a little pep talk. ‘It’s only a machine, it doesn’t hate you, it just is, what it is. Either do the job the way it has to be done, or get rid of the car!”
I got back under the car and set to my task. It took twenty minutes per fitting. The bolts holding the bell housing to the engine were another challenge.
It wasn’t easy to reach those bolts.
Loosening bolts by remote control.
Success!
There was no way to unbolt them with the usual socket or box wrench. To reach them I snapped together five feet of extension shafts. Even with a very limited view of the bolt heads, I was able to remove the upper bolts.
For reassembly, I taped the bolts in position on the case before I raised the transmission into position. Then I used my very long extension shafts to tighten the bolts.
So what was this 12 cylinder supercar like to drive? (Not that I actually drove it that much.)
First of all, it was very smooth and quiet, there was no Ferrari-like snarl. It wasn’t brutally fast off the line, like a big block muscle car. It was more like my 300ZX, a steady acceleration from a start, that built as the engine gained rpm.
The Turbo 400 transmission wasn’t really well suited to this engine. It only had three speeds and shifted into third at a low speed. It was best behind a large displacement engine that was designed for low-end torque. The Jag 12 was an over-square design that needed high rpm to realize its power. The engine would then unfurl its power in a magnificent velvet rush. Or something like that. From 60 mph. it would keep on spinning. I could see how it could reach 145 mph. Though I only hit 85-90 mph…once.
It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t a NorthStar Cadillac, which was ferocious in its acceleration. My Seville was a better performer than the XJS in every measurement. In many ways, the Jag reminded me of my ’96 Mustang GT. Not really quick, but fast enough.
There was a lot of ego involved in owning this car, not so much as in a status symbol kind of way. Instead, it was the hubris of thinking that I was one of the few, the chosen few, who could deal with all of its peculiarities and issues. Deal with them and emerge triumphant!
1977 Mosport Pit Lane.
The XJS, though forgotten by the general public today, had a storied racing pedigree. It won the European Touring Car Championship and the SPA 24 hours from 1975 to 1996 with the Tom Walkinshaw Racing team. Competing in the Trans Am series with the Bob Tullius Group 44 racing team, it won the Driver’s Championship in ’77 and dominated the ’78 season. The XJS had a more impressive racing record than the XKE.
I will admit that I wanted to bask in the reflected glory of the Jaguar heritage. It was my chance to be part of a legend.
The twelve-cylinder 5.3 liter, all-aluminum engine was also a marvel. Jaguar chose this configuration to differentiate their cars from their competition and American large displacement V8s. In my eyes, it recalled the great pre-war marques like Packard and Cadillac. A modern fuel-injected V12 was the stuff of dreams. The low value of this car sucked me in, like it has to many others.
The car was always more of an abstraction, instead of a real car. Ownership was going to be a journey, and I knew it would take a long time to achieve my goal of a fully reconditioned vehicle. It was a process that had to be “savored.”
That lasted for a while, then that idea soured.
I decided to find a shop that could help me take care of some of the problems so that I could move my project forward.
If I had problems finding a shop that would work on my ’56 Cadillac’s transmission, this was just as bad, if not worse. My search began on the West side of town, where the expensive foreign car garages were located.
Many independent foreign shops have a rule that they will not work on a car that is twenty years old, or more. Don’t laugh, I actually heard this numerous times! In fact, the aforementioned Continental Motors gave me that same line!
Another was that they would only work on cars with a detailed service history. And just, how am I supposed to get this history? Most old Jags have passed through numerous owners who didn’t keep all or any of the receipts. How am I supposed to start this history if their shop refuses to work on my car?
I went to one shop and spoke with the owner. He was very friendly and we had a long conversation about cars, life, and what it’s like to be nearing retirement age. He said that he could do the work when I was ready.
A year or so later I returned and another guy was running the shop, and he spouted the whole 20 years old, no service history line. I tried to press him on the issue, but he was steadfast in his refusal.
I found another shop in the same area, one that advertised work on Jaguars and other fancy imports, and I asked about having the front suspension totally rebuilt, requesting an estimate. The shop manager said that he couldn’t do that, because “maybe” the car didn’t need everything replaced. They recommended a complete inspection, then they would have had an accurate idea of what work was needed.
I countered with: “Add up the cost of all the needed parts, add labor for the typical suspension rebuild, and we could agree that additional expense might be incurred as the work progressed.” It would be a parts and labor arrangement. “Can’t do that. he said, We need the inspection first. Pay the 115.00 dollars first.”
Is this hard to see?
So I let them do the inspection. Oh, they found issues that needed to be addressed alright. About ten thousand dollars worth of work was detailed in the report! Did that include the front suspension? No, somehow they had missed seeing the chewed-up rubber that was hanging out of the suspension pivot points! Look at the picture! They never even mentioned that. I was very disappointed, frustrated, and disgusted.
Then it dawned on me: I was being discriminated against! Not because of my ethnicity, but because I was poor. They didn’t want to work with a working-class guy who knew about mechanics. They wanted a rich guy who would drop the car off and pay the invoices.
When I spoke to my usual mechanic, he refused to work on my car. I offered the parts/labor arrangement and he still said no. I asked why, and he told me that working on the Jag would be something that he would be unfamiliar with, and it would likely tie up a repair stall for too much time. He needed a steady turnover of flat-rate repair jobs to make enough money to run the business. He was honest, and I respected that.
I came up with a plan to replace the most accessible suspension bushings, the front upper and lower pivots points. It was a clever plan. I would support the wheel, control arm and spring, and loosen and pull the pivot bolt back far enough to replace the bushing. I’d seen something like this done in a recent issue of Hot Rod magazine, to replace the front springs in a spring comparison test. However, on the XJS, both pivot bolts couldn’t be removed completely without dropping the front cross member.
The plan worked well enough.
With a good transmission and an “overhauled” suspension, I invested in a new set of tires and began to drive the car more. I lucked out, in that the car’s cooling system had been well maintained and it never got close to overheating, even in 90 degree weather. A bane of this engine.
I thought that I was finally gaining some traction, when I started having problems with the Anti Lock Braking System. This is a Teves II system that was more complex than the typical American design. In this system, the ABS pump would run intermittently to pressurize the brake system to provide boost. There was not a vacuum booster on the master cylinder. Instead, there was something that looked like an oversized eight ball that stored pressure as a reservoir.
The ABS light would stay on when you started the car, until the system pressurized, but it wasn’t supposed to stay on after that. There were some chilling threads on the Jaguar Forum about the brakes going out unexpectedly, or one of the front brakes locking up suddenly, causing the car to swerve across the road.
Mine was an ’89 model, it was going on 25 years old. The ABS pump was made of unobtanium. A new unit was NLA; no longer available, and rebuilt pumps were hard to source. The internal valves and pistons would corrode, or gum up and stick. The delicate ribbon wires inside the unit could break, or the pump itself would fail. The computer circuit boards that controlled the system would also start to fail. The connections would come unsoldered or corroded. The boards could sometimes be repaired by resoldering and cleaning connections. These were pretty old electronic components.
None of this was too reassuring.
Though repairs could be done successfully according to the forum, I began to question if it was worth it.
I used to joke that my XJS was a car that was currently worth 3,00o dollars, that needed 10,000 dollars of work, all to be worth 7,500 dollars!
It was not a winning situation, I compared the car to my ’96 Mustang, which I dubbed my “No drama Car.” The performance of the XJS wasn’t any better than the Ford, and the headaches of ownership were much smaller.
Perhaps, like Icarus, I dreamed too big and flew too close to the sun. Perhaps it was inevitable that my dreams would crash and burn. I don’t think that it is impossible to deal successfully with this type of car, but it would take an unwavering commitment and the willingness to spend whatever funds would be necessary.
That doesn’t really sound like me.
So what was I going to do?
My initial plan was to stay the course, I would clear out some of my other cars so that I could concentrate my efforts on the XJS. So I sold my other Jaguar sedan which had been my driver, then I sold my old yard car project. (You haven’t heard about those cars yet!)
Oh, then I bought another hobby car, and asked, “Do I even want to bother with that Jag anymore?” The answer was swift and cruel, and the XJS was sold like the others, to an online car-buying site.
The End of the Affair.
I was done with Jaguars.
Now all I had to do was to start over. That is actually the Fun part!
Related CC reading:
This an exiting story. Can’t wait to read the next chapter.
Better you than me.
Indeed you are far braver than I. I admire Jaguars, but am afraid to get involved with one.
You certainly got out at the right time too. Your end run worked well in this case.
Several people I know bemoan the fact that they can’t find anyone to work on their cars, this includes more”normal” cars like a late 60’s Plymouth. I couldn’t find anyone to work on my 1963 VW, so I rebuilt the front end myself last year.
”Deal with them and emerge triumphant!” .
So very well said .
Bummer it didn’t pan out, cool that you thoughtfully approached each issue and solved it .
Well written too .
-Nate
A great story to read this morning. This whole business of shops not touching older stuff is becoming rampant in the powersports sector as well. Despite some of the designs being quite old. I gave up fixing my own stuff 10 years ago. Or so I thought. I have had the tools out a lot in the last few years. Not because I really want to but because I have to.
Yet another well-written, excellent article for anyone contemplating buying an old exotic (of any marque) on the cheap with the idea they can keep it going with a little elbow grease and internet access. It’s just too much of an exercise in frustration for anyone not having the access to the resources of someone like, say, Jay Leno.
In my experience, the 6.0L V12s are generally more reliable than the 5.3. After a rocky start, I’ve had three years of trouble-free driving in my ’94 coupe (knock on wood) and have been lucky to find a shop that can actually work on it.
The pre-Ford cars have always scared me away, so I admire your attempt at trying to sort one out. There’s really nothing else like a Jag, for better or worse!
Looking forward to hearing about the XJ sedan!
I guess you reinforced the rep these had/have.
That Teves ABS system is very similar or the same as was on our ’92 Grand Caravan. But Chrysler had to offer a lifetime warranty on it, and so I got at least two free replacement pumps. But they warned me the last time that they were likely not going to be available any longer, so that encouraged me to get rid of it.
My neck and arm hurts just from reading about those transmission cooler line fittings!
Ironically enough, as I sat down to read this, while sitting on my front porch, an XJS convertible drove by (similar era as yours, though beige). Your story here is remarkable – and gives me a new appreciation for folks who work on Jaguars.
Great story. I’m also a big XJS fan and had the chance on two occasions to buy a clean low mile coupe, but the angel on my shoulder talked me out of it both times at the last minute.
The more stories like yours I hear, the more I think I probably made the right decision.
Ah, to have the motivation and follow through of a young(er) man again… 🙂 I too like these quite a bit, yours is one of the higher mileage examples, they pop up in the junkyards regularly, and most usually with the odometer having stopped at somewhere around the 50-60k mile mark.
I think they generally fall into two camps: 1. They were resold at some point after their first decade and maybe 25,000 miles or so and then resold again and the eventual third or fourth owner reached the end of their capability and wallet, after which the car sits for at least half a decade or more and then is eventually hauled off for good. Or 2. The original wealthy owner holds on to it for a long time but rarely drives it yet has the means to coddle it as needed. Then, with these now being 30-40 years old, that wealthy young (or maybe not so young) original owner is now quite aged and the car just sits for half a decade or more and then, once the original owner passes, is hauled off for good as no heir wants to deal with a finicky V12-engined beast five or more states away….
There are not many stories of these remaining in good, usable form for the long term (unfortunately), an affliction that seems to strike most Jaguars, at least the post-1960s ones anyway in my estimation. Judging by how many do end up scrapped, sales of most models were surprisingly good, at least in North America and always worthy of at least a casual appreciative once-over while softly uttering “Blimey…” a few times, sort of a last rite.
PS: the later Ford “engineered” Jaguars, at least our little X-Type, still have plenty of maddening poor access issues as well to continue the tradition… At least the parts are relatively cheap for that one though, or at least cheap relative to other Euro cars.
Coincidentally, I too recently bought a book about Jaguars from The Bookman in Orange. I think I’ll stick with book and skip the car.
Although I generally never comment on posts like this, I must say that this is an absolutely brilliant piece of reporting. I had 2 twelve-cylinder XJS coupes and I sold them because I was terrified every time I opened the hood. Now I have a second series XJS six-cylinder coupe.
It is not terrifying to open the hood, but I did have the experience you refer to of losing the brakes coming down a steep hill. That was terrifying, particularly because I was passing a big over the road truck at the time. I do not have your courage, knowledge, and dedication, but I will figure that out, I suppose, if I am lucky.
Thank you for your contribution here. It is a bit of an inspiration.
As a BMW ‘file, I’ve heard the line, “there’s nothing more expensive than a $500 BMW V12.” I suspect that might be more accurate if corrected to , “than a 12 cylinder Jaguar”
Regardless, exotic cars retain exotic car repair and parts prices, even if they’re worth less than a tenth of what they sold for, not accounting for in inflation. Intriguing that the only people who can afford to buy them need to be able to work on them.
Not a big Jag fan, though I do find them interesting, especially the E types, but there was a XJS V12 for sale in this little burg of 8K people I live in last year. Looked good. Saw the FS sign which said 12K and walked away laughing. Made it an easy call for no.
That was a very good read indeed.
Though a closet Jaguar fan, I don’t think I’d ever touch one either.
I’m too old/impatient for those extension/extension/extension/ratchet things, though I do remember doing it.
Late arrival here, but had to give you a big salute for taking this one on. I always liked these, and I sometimes share your optimistic view that “it’s just a car, and anyone with reasonable skills and patience should be able to keep it going”. But then I’ve been beaten by more plebian cars than this.
I agree that shops hate the old stuff. I had a good mechanic but he started charging more and more when I brought in older iron and I finally found another place. I also quit trying to maintain 30+ year old cars as DDs.
Having owned a ’68 E-Type fhc (fixed head coupe, the pretty short wheelbase version, pic) I never had a desire to own one of these. When they came out shortly after the demise of the “E” I was mightily let down. Even the ’71 to ’74 V12 E-type is considered far less desirable than the older XK engine six cyl version, and apparently the same holds true for the 6 vs 12 version of the XJS.
I had a chance to ride in a new ’71 E V12 and was mesmerized by it’s smooth velvety rush of turbine-like power, but glad I never succumbed to it’s nearly irresistible siren song, as I’d have had to buy one rather well-used and after owning an E and a ’62 Mk II I’d clearly realized by then the penalty exacted by ownership of any Jag. Unless you’re a master mechanic or rich (I’m neither so that was a bullet dodged), beware!
Thanks for all the comments and the sympathy, though the pain has pretty much been forgotten by now. I worry that it will be the “tech” that will kill interest in trying to preserve cars with fuel injection and ABS computers, etc. in the future. At least for non mainstream brands. Although most of the basic electronic systems are quite reliable nowadays, I do wonder how they will fare when entering their second and third decades of life. Even newer cars with stuff like automatic temp air conditioning, adaptive cruise control, pushbutton keyless ignition, start to crap out at around ten or fifteen years. It’s not like you can retrofit older systems.
There were a few guys on the forum that retrofit non ABS braking on their XJS, but finding those parts isn’t easy. Sure, if you know someone with a race car building shop, or a really high dollar hot rod shop, they could re engineer an entirely new braking set up, as well as a new suspension and steering system. Just bring bushels of hundred dollar bills!
It’s funny, but if you read my last post about the ’70 Mustang, here was the perfect basic, low tech, simple car, with plenty of aftermarket parts support. These are the ideal cars for the low buck, DIY vintage car owner/enthusiast. Actually anything American from the mid Fifties and newer. They will provide more satisfaction with a lot less grief. However, they can also run up some high reconditioning bills, if you need an engine rebuilt, or new paint, chrome, and interior.
As I stated, a car like the XJS can be successfully restored to like new condition, but it will cost a lot of money. Much more money than I was prepared or willing to pay. For a time, I was ready to buy the Jaguar spring compressor and rebuild the front end myself, until I became very concerned about the ABS system. It just wasn’t worth it, to me. I kind of took a walk on the wild side, and I don’t regret it. But I know that I really belong on the “mild side!”
Still, what’s life like without dreams and romance?
What an amazing amount of time and devotion to the Jag project! You are to be congratulated.
My dad bought a new 1968 Rover TC 2000. Then known as a poor man’s Jag. His good friend had a Jag XJ. The Brits made some awfully pretty cars then.
Together they kept a local garage in business and the shop proprietors invited both my dad and his friend to regular dinners. You couldn’t be poor and own these cars. 🙂
If I remember, the main trouble spot(s) of my dad’s car was the to-die-for Lucas electrics specifically the starter Bendix. Can’t count the times I pushed the car out of the garage for a comprsssion start.
Dad drove the car until his next car, a 1986 Honda Accord. He remained friends with the shop guys. They just didn’t see each other very often.
I admire your perseverance, resourcefulness, and honesty with yourself to sell it,
I understand the attitude of shops we sent our 2003 Buick in and got a $6000 estimate on a $1700 car. So we continue to do our own dirty work. The good thing about 20+ year old Detroit iron is that parts are cheap and plentiful. Even the NLA stuff isn’t too bad, when the Buick’s ABS brain went out it was $200 for a specialist to resolder and reseal the unit.