In the aftermath of the Second World War, the “Export or die” era of the British motoring industry, when steel was only allocated to carmakers who sold ¾ths of their products overseas, was a cut-throat world. British carmakers were especially attracted to the North American market, whose appetite for their products seemed insatiable. From MG to Rolls-Royce, everyone got piles of greenbacks in exchange for their wares. So did Austin, by the way. But it wasn’t thanks to the A90 Atlantic.
I encountered this rotund drop-head gorgeous A90 on the street, quite randomly. I couldn’t quite believe my eyes, but I knew immediately what it was. These are rare cars, but they’re certainly very distinctive.
As luck would have it, I bumped into it again at the Nihonbashi car meet I wrote up recently. This Atlantic definitely wanted to have its fifteen minutes of CC fame. And although it’s not quite a Deadly Sin or anything (the Austin marque lived on for several decades afterwards), the A90 Atlantic was certainly a major dud. That always makes for a fun Schadenfreude-filled story.
Austin’s postwar range was primarily focused around compact and family-sized saloons, though they also had a line of prestige limos. But all in all, there wasn’t much to catch the eye of the discerning American buyer. To add a much-needed dose of pizzazz, Austin’s first all-new post-war car, premiered at the 1948 London Motor Show, would be a large convertible, with as many bells and whistles as could be crammed in.
This included a column gearchange, an optional radio, 12-volt electrics, full leather upholstery, room for five passengers and (drum roll please) electro-hydraulic windows and convertible top. For a 1948 car – let alone an Austin – this was a veritable gingerbread house.
But they didn’t stuff this car with all those goodies just to clothe it in a warmed-over 1939 body. Austin designers went all-out on the bathtub styling, lathered in chrome for good measure. They even took the Pontiac silver streaks to keep the hood and bootlid nice and shiny. This was also the first Austin to eschew the traditional vertical grille, also providing it (in a nod to Tucker and Tatra, perhaps?) with a third headlight.
The chassis was a bit less daring, consisting in a coil-sprung independent suspension and hydraulic brakes up front, and a leaf-sprung live axle with cable brakes in the back. The engine was based on the 2.2 litre OHV 4-cyl. seen in the 1945-49 Austin 16, albeit bored out to 2660cc and providing 88hp and mated to a 4-speed manual. In early 1950, a metal roof version joined the range, which ended up being the sole model once convertible production was halted at the end of that year.
Austin could have gone further in the body variants – indeed, they did build this stunner of a woodie, but perhaps by this time the writing was already on the wall, so it remained one-of-a-kind.
The problem was that Austin of England didn’t wow anyone in Austin of Texas. Folks who wanted to buy British actually liked the dated styling, and those who wanted a big drop-top with power everything could buy something American-made, where they would also be able to get double the engine (and an automatic transmission), all for the same price as the Atlantic. In addition, Jaguar launched the XK120 and showed everyone how it’s done, after which the higher end of the market only had eyes for them.
Production wound down in 1952, by which time just under 8000 units had been made, half convertibles and half saloons. Only 4% of this total actually made it to the States, demonstrating that Austin had badly missed the mark. On the other hand, 10% of production went to Australia. They should have called it the Austin Antipodean.
Ultimately, the exercise was not a complete waste: British carmakers saw this misadventure as a sign that they should stick to their tried and true formulas (and that aping the Americans was pointless). Austin, for their part, recycled the big 4-cyl. into a much more successful package thanks to their cooperation with Donald Healey. The A90 Atlantic hit an iceberg on its way over to the place it was supposed to conquer, just like a ship whose name escapes me.
Wow, what a find! I had the impression they were quite a bit larger than this. It would have seemed very strange to an American used to Buick convertibles.
It’s a fascinating example of seeing American culture reflected back in a distorting mirror.
Beautiful Austin. The nose may have looked more elegant, if the primary headlights were more distanced from the third light. Father apart, less gathered to the middle. And aligned more over the parking lights. With the hood opening widened. Attractive bodywork, given such a short wheelbase.
Amazing find! These are awkward and over styled in a lot of ways but there is something rather appealing about them as a classic car I find. They are unique and have a lot of presence.
Wow, boat is right!
Amazing find. Years ago I finally saw one at a vintage car show. I started chuckling as I walked around the car, moved on as I realized said chuckle was obviously going to turn into full blown laughter, and the proud owner was there with his car. I didn’t want to insult the man.
A prime example of the “two societies separated by a common language” trope. I’d put that in the “what were they thinking?” category, except that it’s plainly obvious what they were thinking. It’s what they didn’t understand that matters.
For 1950, the ad is quite attractive. The cutaway illustrations are beautifully rendered.
The wagon is a very creative, and appealing design.
Agreed. I’m tempted to make a little model of that version.
It’s not just that they copied American design trends, but the trends they copied were largely 1949-50 Nash, Hudson, and Packard.
It really looks like something Nash might have built circa 1950, apart from those British style fenders (I guess Austin of England just couldn’t help themselves there).
What an amazing find.
I like the twin ‘Flying A’ on the front wings.
That swoop down the side reminds me of a miniature Daimler.
The front was weirdly American, but most of the car agreed with the Italian “future” as seen more gracefully in the Isotta-Fraschini Monterosa.
The estate has the best profile and hides the dumpy big car styling on a small car issue, These arrived in New Zealand but were private imports mostly farmers spending some of their British pounds from their wool cheque, A70s arrived the same way and they were plentifull not many of either model remain, Austin put that four banger in all sorts of things mostly in 2.2 size truck, cars & 4x4s, I learned to drive in a 4×4 Austin Gipsy.
I must have grown up in the wrong part of Australia, but I don’t recall seeing any. Oh I know what the sales figures say, I don’t doubt that. I’d guess limited supply of the A90-specific parts put them off the road while commoner A40s and A70s soldiered on. And of course the Healey guys allegedly robbed A90s of their engines….
But what a spot for Tokyo! American style et luxe in a parkable size.
I’m always fascinated by the three-part windshield, as shown here. This one which I saw a few years back wasn’t a convertible, but a very scruffy coupe – they came with a vinyl roof.
Panhard & Lavassor also had a 3-piece windshield on their pre-war Dynamic.