Though the title reveals the eventual outcome, let’s take a step back for a moment. My dad had his ’68 Nova 230 overhauled around 1977, but before committing to a new expense we did some shopping around. As I mentioned earlier, Latin America, and Uruguay in particular, weren’t places where you could easily buy a variety of vehicles, even if money was no object—which, of course, wasn’t in our case.
So let me tell you about some of the cars we considered.
Dad wasn’t comfortable with anything but a six-cylinder engine (something that would soon change because of the gas-guzzling nature of those engines in a country with outrageous fuel prices). One day, we saw an ad from the American Embassy announcing a tender for two vehicles: a 1975 Nova with 10,000 km, and a 1970 Argentine Falcon with high mileage. Of course, we went to see them.
The Nova looked brand new and had a 250 engine, automatic transmission, power steering, and brakes. That was it– it was the cheapest version, with no air conditioning. It was golden brown, with a nicely coordinated interior. At the time, the embassy wouldn’t let you test-drive the car; the mechanic in charge would just start it for you and that was all regarding inspection. Since the car was so new, it had to pay taxes that diplomats are usually exempt from—11K USD, in 1975! I don’t remember the price of a new Nova back then, but I’m sure this was much higher than it should’ve been.
1975-1979 Nova image from the Cohort by Hannes.
Dad placed a bid anyway, but someone outbid him. After all, a two-year-old Nova with so few kilometers was a costly and desirable car in Uruguay. The ’70 Argentinian Falcon, on the other hand, didn’t deserve a closer look. It was clearly neglected, needed a repaint, and despite not being many years old, it felt like a remnant of an older era. An American user accustomed to a 1962 Falcon would have felt at home in it—right down to the left-hand starter.
I looked for two 3/4-angle images of the front and rear of the Argentinian Falcon to show you. There may be some differences between these two cars and the one I describe, but the shell, headlights, and general details are the same. These cars are now over 50 years old and are well-preserved, which couldn’t be said for the one we saw that was only six years old in 1977. By the way, it’s common to see headrests in Argentine cars that were obviously added aftermarket, as well as shoulder belts. These are required by law for road use, and similar laws were applied in Uruguay. It’s funny to see a Fiat 600 with headrests and shoulder belts.
The site todofalcon.com.ar is an interesting resource about these cars if you understand Spanish. It has a lot of reliable information and nice pictures.
We’re now well into the first fourth of this story, and apart from the title, I haven’t said much about the Nova’s replacement yet. So let me tell you about a visit to an import car dealer before I continue. On a Saturday morning we went to a dealer where I saw a 1975 Chevelle 4-door and a 1975 Chevrolet Opala side by side. The Opala, a copy of an Opel Rekord C with a Chevy II 4- or 6-cylinder engine and drivetrain, didn’t really catch my attention. But the Chevelle did. I took a closer look… Hold on. This is strange. Everything inside was black. The upholstery felt like plastic. Let’s check the dashboard… Where’s the air conditioning? Let’s pop the hood… Power steering? Check. Power brakes? Check. Six-cylinder engine? Check.
Photo by Jason Shafer.
The ’75 Chevelle we saw that day was far simpler than the one in the picture. No vinyl roof, no SoftRay glass, just basic dog dish hubcaps. A few years earlier it would have been considered a Chevelle 100 (I know there was also a 300/300 DeLuxe/Malibu, but I just want to emphasize the simplicity of that particular model).
Dad came over, looked at the car for all of two minutes, and said, “No way. I won’t find parking near the office for this, and it’ll have worse fuel consumption.” He showed me the recirculation system and added something like, “We’ll have to wait a while before we can get an American car again.” He then turned to the Opala, which looked brand new. It had only 11,000 km on the clock, was a 151 CID engine, three-on-the-tree, power brakes, a radio, and nothing else. One downside: as you may know, these were years of military governments across much of Latin America, and Uruguay was no exception. This Opala was painted in the exact blue color of the Air Force. Dad was the chief cardiologist at the Central Military Hospital, and he didn’t want his daily driver to make him look like an Army officer 24/7. Even though the price was reasonable, he decided to pass on both cars and wait to see how the overhauled engine on our ’68 Nova would perform… Well, you know how that turned out.
The Opala above is both an exact copy and yet quite different from the one we considered at the import dealer. If it passed you on the street, you might not even notice the “4100” badge behind the front bumper, which signifies a 250 CID engine. In the description I found with the image, it mentions that this car came with an automatic transmission and air conditioning—features that the car we saw didn’t have. Additional options included power steering and brakes. Also notice that the front end closely resembles that of the 1972/1973 Chevelle.
If you look at the rear, you’ll find a Chevy-esque round light arrangement, which I also think looks great. It was common at the time for Brazilian owners to add a third pair of rear lights, which gave their cars a mini-Impala look.
We’re about halfway through, but let’s see what else the Uruguay car market offered at the time in August of 1978.
The mid-range cars in Uruguay were clearly defined, not by size, but by price.
You could buy a VW Brasilia, a Fiat 128, a Chevrolet Chevette, a Renault 12, a Ford Escort, or a Grumett (a fiberglass station wagon based on the Chevette, which would be produced locally until the Chevette Marajo was imported). There were also a few other less common models in this price range. All these cars were imported as CKDs (completely knocked-down kits) and assembled locally, except for the Grumett. The Escort was the only model imported as a kit from England.
The Grumett was essentially an Opel Kadett with a different front end and mechanicals. The Brasilia was the cheapest of the bunch (there was also a four-door version), but it wasn’t much cheaper than the others. The Fiat 128, Chevette, and Grumett were all priced closely together, while the Escort and Renault 12 were a bit more expensive.
Anyone who was interested in buying one of the first three models could easily afford any in the group, and probably even purchased the better trimmed and more expensive options.
The Brasilia, being built on the Beetle chassis, had poor performance, weak brakes, limited cargo space, and a loud interior. It was removed from our list. The Grumett was also ruled out because Dad didn’t want a fiberglass car. The Escort wasn’t comfortable, and the Renault 12 was more expensive than Dad was willing to pay at the time.
So, it came down to a Fiat 128 or a Chevette. As is often the case, car enthusiasts have strong opinions about certain brands. In our family, Fiats were a running joke and so, it was scratched off the list.
The winner? A 1978 Chevrolet Chevette, the Brazilian version of General Motors “T-car” (better known as Opel’s Kadett C, plus other siblings). It was delivered on Tuesday, August 15, 1978, at 4:30 PM, and issued the license plate 300-111 from Montevideo (only a car nut would remember those details, I know). There were three Chevette models to choose from: the two- and four-door sedan, and the two-door Rally, which was simply a decor option. The Rally had most of the chrome blacked out (but not the bumpers), a tachometer, a vacuum gauge, an ammeter, a “RALLY” stripe, sport wheels, and wider tires. I’ve been completely unable to find a picture of this model—either none exist anymore, or they’ve been repainted or refurbished. The only model available for immediate delivery was a canary yellow Rally, which, for its time, looked really sporty.
The Brazilian GP version, similar in graphics and color to the Rally.
I had to teach him how to engage reverse—this was his first four-speed car, and his first in 30 years to have a floor-mounted lever. He’d gotten his license in a 1940 Ford A, back when Uruguay still drove on the left side of the road.
I showed him how to place his hand on the lever, press down, slide it left and forward—and that was it.
“How did you know?” he asked.
“Because I was the only one at home who read the Nova’s owner’s manual,” I replied. And I was lucky, because I later learned that there were a couple of different gearboxes for the Nova, each with different shifting mechanisms.
I had a lot of fun with that Chevette because Dad drove me to school every morning. He decided I was old enough to start warming the car up on my own. So, I’d go down to the garage, open the choke, start the engine, and sit there listening to the sputtering when it was really cold. Dad, however, was a guy who followed the car’s manual to the letter. The manual, for some reason, recommended parking the car in reverse instead of first or neutral. One day, I forgot to put it in neutral and left my foot firmly on the clutch. When Dad approached the car, I got out—and the sporty Chevette rolled backward. Fortunately, Dad had quick reflexes and jumped out of the way before the door hit him.
The neighbor’s Citroën Méhari, which belonged to Dr. Martínez, a large animal vet who used it to visit patients in remote areas, wasn’t as lucky. The door came off and broke all the retainers of the convertible roof. My punishment for not being careful was to not drive the car for a few days. However, the worst part was knocking on Dr. Martínez’s door to confess what I had done and asking him to send us the bill for the repair. He wasn’t pleased at all, but I guess he understood how sorry I was after I had been chewed out by Dad. Oh… and by the way, the Méhari was brand new.
That Chevette had a short but intense life with us. Mechanically, it was excellent, pretty agile even with its 1.4-liter engine and 65 horsepower. It had very low fuel consumption compared to the Nova. But it was extremely uncomfortable for anyone sitting in the back. It was so low that it was hard to get in and out of. And as much as we joked about the Fiat’s poor corrosion protection, the Chevette developed rust holes in the front fenders, rocker panels, and the driver’s side floor—despite only having 60,000 km on it, which was quite a lot for a car at the time. Dad soon started considering trading it in. Things weren’t going to get any easier.
Related CC reading:
Typo:
The winner? A 1978 Chevrolet Chevette, the Brazilian version of General Motors “T-car” (better known as Opel’s Kadett C, plus other siblings).
FIFY
Noted. It’s updated now.
The Brazilian Chevette with its thin, integrated bumpers looked far nicer than what we received in North America, plus a couple of more body styles, including a sedan and a wagon.
I’d hesitate to call these trims “bumpers”.
This is a great series. It’s fun to read what other families drove and how they arrived at those choices!
My dad only let two of his five children pick out a car.
The first was my sister Vicki when it was time to move along from the 58 Buick wagon. She chose a 62 Buick Invicta by just saying how nice it looked. Never mind she was going to be of driving age soon so of course a convertible would be the cool thing to drive!
The other kid was me. He looked at all the models of the downsized GM cars in 1978 and I chose the Buick Electra 225 black over red!
Great articles
Love this series, Rafael.
Us car nuts are such sad people – I also used to love being allowed to go out and start cold cars for adults on cold mornings, and I too have a completely useless memory of various car number plates to this day!
I had a flood of memories when I read that because I absolutely loved when mom or dad asked me to warm up the car. Made me feel very grown up as I walked to the car, unlocked, and started it. Never had Rafael’s mishap though – that probably would have ended my car-warming career. Oddly, though, my folks always left their cars in neutral, though with the hand brake on. In hindsight, probably not a great idea.
Loving this; you’re giving me a very clear picture of what it was like for you and your father at that time and place. It’s easy to forget how much more limited the options were for buyers in many parts of the world outside of the US, Western Europe and Japan.
Ah yes; forgetting to put the car in neutral before getting out. How many have experienced that unpleasantness? I remember diving back into my VW one time before any damage was done.
Thanks Rafael, what a nice story! I loved to know a little bit about the car options in Uruguay at the time. I have fond memories of the Chevette too! My father owned two of them, being one 2 door and one Marajó wagon, back in the 80s…
I’m looking forward for more stories from you. Greetings from Brasil!
I think a lot of Chevette owners here in the US bought theirs cars under somewhat similar circumstances – the combination of inflation and fuel prices prompted folks to abandon their preferences for larger cars and squeeze into a Chevette. Many went back to larger cars later (or imports, since there were plentiful choices here).
My brother-in-law had a canary yellow late-’70s Chevette as his first car, and his folks had a mid-’80s Chevette as well. We joke sometimes that his Chevette experiences scarred him for life, because he’s been a luxury-car buyer for most of his adult life.
Thank you for sharing these great personal memories. Excellent recollection of details, and heart-warming storytelling. Nice, that you have documented it here.
I liked the notchback version of the Chevette. But if GM was going to sell one version of the car in the US and Canada, the three door hatchback was the correct choice. It was the most efficiently packaged example, and the most modern-looking. As hatchbacks remained hot. Especially, in the subcompact segment.
GM not offering anything other than the 3-door hatch Chevette in the US seems like marketing that forced loyal GM buyers who wanted a small sedan or station wagon to move up to a more expensive (and profitable) X-body which included a complete array of body styles.
It was a typical, cynical GM ploy that effectively ceded the entire small sedan and station wagon market to Ford and Chrysler (to say nothing of the encroaching Pacific Rim).
You guys have forgotten the 4-door hatchback? It even had a longer wheelbase for better rear seat room. I’d have to look it up, but I suspect that longer wheelbase was exclusive to the US 4-door Chevette. A genuine commitment to better rear seat room by GM.
Yes, I knew GM wouldn’t want to cannibalize Nova sales. Why they stuck with the three door hatch. Why the notchback as opposed to the hatchback, would possibly be a internal sales problem. Including Vega/Monza wagon sales as well.
I didn’t mention the five door, as it came later, after the 1976 NA launch. In 1978. It think it arrived in Brazil in 1978 as well. Well after, the three door’s release in the US and Canada. The five door option, was not available upon launch here. Yes, looking at all Chevette versions available in NA until 1987, the five door was easily the most practical.
Importantly, the hatchback looked like a fresh, original, and progressive economy car. The three door notchback looked like a mini Nova. Would appeal more to potential Nova hatchback buyers, hoping to save a dollar. Bad idea!
Wagon would have competed head-on with the Vega/Monza kammback/wagon. Saturation.
Correction: ‘two door notchback’
As to the big bumpers on the U.S. version, they worked very well. A co-worker with a Chevette hatchback got rear-ended at a stoplight on the way to work, which pushed her into the car stopped in front of her. Her car was fine—except that it was severely bowed upwards in the center, along the axis of rear frame of the doors. It actually was driveable for a while that way, which was strange, the car being rear-wheel-drive, and given the severity of the twist.
Daniel M. I’m sorry my post didn’t came right after yours, as the “reply” button doesn’t seen to work no more. Anyway, Brazil never had the 5 door Chevette. The hatchback did come late, in late 1979, but only as a 3 door.
Thank you for the correction Eliminator! To confirm my response above, I checked author ‘Rubens’ comprehensive review/report of the Brazilian Chevette, here at Curbside Classic. I didn’t realize they were all exported.
Here’s what he said: “In the same year (1978) GM unveiled the 4 door model, intended mostly for exports…”
https://www.curbsideclassic.com/curbside-classics-american/the-brazilian-chevette/
Daniel, I’m sorry, I thought you were referring to the 5 door hatchback!
The 4 door sedan was sold here yes, but in small numbers, as Brazilians had a huge prejudice against small and medium cars with rear doors. So, as Rubens wrote, the 4 door Chevette was built mainly for exports.
Anyway, thanks for the comment!
No, my mistake Eliminator! I was referring to the five door hatchback. He said the ‘four door model’, as I thought he meant a five door hatchback. As I see now, Rubens comment was accompanied by a photo of the four door sedan. Thank you for your correction.
That “notchback”, style would have done well here in the states.
GM’s own brand new Monza/Sunbird coupes, would have been immediate competitors.
Thanks all for your comments! All Brazilian Chevettes had the same wheelbase. Uruguay, for its size, was a good market for the 4 door, which went on sale in mid 1978. The Marajo wagon was the nicest model for me. I found it strange at the time that after a few years there were some Chevettes with automátic and A/C. Nice times!
An interesting story, well told ~ thank you Rafael ;
Before I retired the C.O.L.A. had a fleet of four door Chevettes, they were reviled by all except me who likes smaller vehicles in general .
-Nate