Thanks again to Kevin MacIver for this photo - Tobermory Main Street
I’ve
realised that in my last Mull catch-up several days ago, I got to 1981, and
over the last few episodes I’ve covered ’82 and ’83. So before I go any further, I need to tell
you about ’84 and ’85 – so here goes.
The
1984 Tour of Mull was almost certainly the last rally I did in KKC 733P. Seeded at 10 out of a starting field of 78
(small by today’s standards) we had high hopes of a good result. These were well founded early on, and we were
lying 6th… after the first stage, Mishnish Lochs. In fact we were inside the top ten on the
first four stages, but then had an alternator problem which slowed us down in
the second half of the night, but we still finished Friday night in 11th,
with MacKinnon, Pattison and Gwyndaf Evans taking the first three.
In
those days there were no closed roads, so the Saturday afternoon stages were on
private land – the forests of Lettermore, Fishnish, and Dervaig. Amazingly (for us) we didn’t drop a place,
but at the start of Saturday night we had John Cressey and Dave Calvert
breathing down our necks in 12th and 13th! So if nothing else, as the three of us had
entered a team (Clitheroe A), with 11th, 12th and 13th
we were looking strong for the Team Award!
Just got that about right I reckon - Lettermore Forest
Saturday
night was split into two halves, and we started strongly, arriving at the
Craignure petrol / service with a cumulative 4th fastest time over
the five stages – Mishnish Lochs, Calgary Bay, Glen Aros, Gribun and Scridain –
(less than a minute down on second placed Pattison.) I really had the bit between my teeth now as
we set off on the last four stages, starting with Loch Tuath and the Hill Road
(4th fastest, with MacKinnon retiring here) and then storming down
Glen Aros in 2nd place.
But
worryingly, the damper on the offside front strut had taken such a beating it
had lost most of its damping capability.
We started Gribun well, but just before the bridge near Dhiseig took a
yump, and the car bounced badly after landing just as I tried to turn in for a
medium left. The result was we went straight
on, passing within an inch of a telegraph pole and on to the beach. Luckily the tide was out. Unluckily the nearest spectators were at
least 400 metres away (we couldn’t get the car out on our own) and in no hurry
whatsoever. Our cries of “Hurry! Faster!
Hurry!” were received in the same way as the Spanish ‘mañana’ – but without the same sense of urgency.
Eventually
– over 30 minutes later – we got going again, finished Gribun and then
Scridain. With maximum lateness on Mull
being 20 minutes, we were headed for exclusion, and the Time Control was just
after the selective finish. Dad’s mind
was working overtime. “I don’t know how we’re going to bamboozle the marshal,”
he admitted, “we’re going to end up as non-finishers.” “We’re not going to try
and bamboozle the marshal,” I said firmly. Dad was confused, so I told him to
say nothing and leave it to me. When we stopped at the control, I leaned over; the
marshal said “Blimey, you’re very late, what happened to you?” So I told him
how well we’d been doing, the damper, the ‘excursion’ on to the beach, the lack
of spectators, and ended up by saying, with a sigh, “After all that, if you put
down the time that’s on the watch, we’ll not even be classed as finishers. But
if you could put a time 30 minutes earlier, it won’t affect our selective times
at all, but we’ll be in the results, even though nearly last.” So that’s what
he did.
Only
three of the other 16 teams finished intact, and they had even more penalties
than we did, so despite me finishing 47th, we had the consolation of
winning the team prize. Outside the Aros
Hall that night, results supremo Fred Blundell asked me “I’ve been racking my brains
all day - how on Earth did you con the marshal at the last time control?” to
which I replied with total honesty “I didn’t con the marshal Fred, and I didn’t
tell any lies.” A few other people asked
me the same question and got the same answer.
You heard it first here folks.
In
1985 I had no car at all. For the second
year running, the rally wasn’t included in the MN Championship, partly because
of the cost, partly I think because road rallies were getting so fast that Mull
– effectively a closed road stage event but run like a road rally without
closed roads – was a potential embarrassment if things went wrong. We had to take part – we did every Mull Rally – but how? Luckily for me, Ken Skidmore, who was
competing with Kevin Savage in a Sunbeam, had a MkII Escort RS2000 available
and offered to hire it to me (or lend, I can’t remember which!)
Seeded
one better at no 9 this year, we had a slow ‘wake-up’ call on the first test
(Scridain) but then went on to set consistent top five times, to finish Friday
night 3rd overall behind Ron Beecroft / John Millington and my old
pal John Cressey / Alan Wilson. Even
more remarkably, we were still lying 3rd as we ended the Saturday
afternoon forest stages.
I DO have a photo of the 1985 car, but can't just find it - so here's some running repairs from around 1981 instead
It
may not have been Mull’s biggest or best entry list, but starting the Saturday
night section from Tobermory Main Street as a re-seeded no 3 felt pretty
good. But on the night’s first test –
Mishnish Lochs – just before the end of the lochs, a halfshaft let go and the
rear wheel and brakes disappeared with it.
I managed to pull in to a safe track after a very scary hundred metres, trying
to slow the car down whilst at the same time having the distraction of a very
fine fireworks display in the mirror, caused by sparks from the wheel-less rear
suspension racing along the tarmac! So 3rd
overall was not to be. I’ve had to be
satisfied with two 6ths and several other reasonable finishes.
Would
we be back? Of course, and in another Escort.
But you’ll have to wait for a couple of episodes while I tell you how I
carried on rallying with no car (again)…
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