Novel research: Austen Somerset A40
One of the cars I drove in my twenties was an Austin Somerset. Basil, my powder blue Coupe de Ville, had a two-way convertible top that could be operated from the driver’s seat while waiting for a light. By reaching up, I could easily crack the top part way, and by reaching back, drop it all the way down. Basil was one of a fleet of similar vehicles brought out for the British Empire Games in 1954.
In the early seventies, I drove him happily for some years, though on certain occasions, like driving up Mountain Highway on the North Shore, he was so slow I felt obliged to move onto the shoulder so other traffic could pass.
The final straw came when Basil mysteriously quit on Vancouver Island with my elderly mother aboard. We were enroute to the ferry, and after a pause and a long walk to fetch reviving cups of tea, I got him started again, just as mysteriously. In the ferry compound, I was afraid to turn off the engine. When I explained my concern to a kindly employee, he replied with a wink and said in a British accent, “Don’t worry dear, I used to have one of these. We’ll get it started.”
Basil drew a lot of attention, especially when the top was down,. Pedestrians and other motorists would often call out to me, “Want to sell it?”
When I did sell Basil, the reason was rather ignominious. I had come to the realization that to be really useful, a car needed to climb hills and cross water. After the incident with Mom on the island, I sold the Somerset convertible, with some regret, to the gentleman who had helped me restore it. He had installed the parts I’d gone to such great lengths to obtain, even carrying shocks and a wiring harness home in my luggage from a spare parts shop in Crouch End, North London.
Later, Basil was sold on again, and went to Ontario. For all I know he is still toddling along at a sedate pace, and occasionally showing up to wow car buffs at a Vintage Car parade.
On a visit to Bletchley Park in 2012, I was astonished to see an almost identical car on display with other vintage vehicles. The only differences apparent to me were the colour — mine was powder blue — and the lack of a convertible top on the Bletchley one.