Reputation from mat_the_cat - Page 2

mat_the_cat reacted to Stinkwheel in Six Cylinders Motoring Notes April 13

Thanks Chris, i was having mini hankerings, now i think im cured 😁

mat_the_cat reacted to Six-cylinder in Six Cylinders Motoring Notes April 13

The Past!
The Dream!
The Reality!
Mrs6C said don’t do it, but I gave into peer pressure and bought a black 1984 Austin Mini Mayfair.
The trouble is that it is a project that needs a lot of welding and as yet I have no idea if the engine and gearbox are any good. As it has not been on the road for 24 years I have to assume the brakes and exhaust will need attention and the interior has been exposed to the weather.
Yes this car is a full restoration project and I said no more projects. If you can spare a few working brain cells please put them in a jam jar and send them to me!
Now what, first off is to see if I can get it started which I am looking forward too.

mat_the_cat got a reaction from Dave_Q in What has two seats, a mid-mounted 6 cylinder engine, and a turbo? Time for windscreen number 5! Sunday at 18:22

This last week has been awful for moisture, so I couldn't paint (even under cover) until today. Had to clean up the bare metal again, and painted in BH Etchweld followed by a zinc primer.

Then the exciting part...4 coats of colour! (Think this was only after the first coat or two).

Before going over with 3 coats of lacquer. Really *really* hope it's fully hardened by a week on Monday!

mat_the_cat got a reaction from cobblers in What has two seats, a mid-mounted 6 cylinder engine, and a turbo? Time for windscreen number 5! April 13

Minor update - both A pillars and (quite a few) rust spots on the upper lip have been cleaned up, phosphate treated and ready for masking and etch primer.

I'm hoping for some decent weather so I can bake the paint before the screen is fitted, but not massively optimistic. Thinking at least a week to harden.

mat_the_cat got a reaction from RayMK in What has two seats, a mid-mounted 6 cylinder engine, and a turbo? Time for windscreen number 5! April 13

This last week has been awful for moisture, so I couldn't paint (even under cover) until today. Had to clean up the bare metal again, and painted in BH Etchweld followed by a zinc primer.

Then the exciting part...4 coats of colour! (Think this was only after the first coat or two).

Before going over with 3 coats of lacquer. Really *really* hope it's fully hardened by a week on Monday!

mat_the_cat got a reaction from Coprolalia in What has two seats, a mid-mounted 6 cylinder engine, and a turbo? Time for windscreen number 5! April 13

Minor update - both A pillars and (quite a few) rust spots on the upper lip have been cleaned up, phosphate treated and ready for masking and etch primer.

I'm hoping for some decent weather so I can bake the paint before the screen is fitted, but not massively optimistic. Thinking at least a week to harden.

mat_the_cat got a reaction from Tickman in What has two seats, a mid-mounted 6 cylinder engine, and a turbo? Time for windscreen number 5! April 13

This last week has been awful for moisture, so I couldn't paint (even under cover) until today. Had to clean up the bare metal again, and painted in BH Etchweld followed by a zinc primer.

Then the exciting part...4 coats of colour! (Think this was only after the first coat or two).

Before going over with 3 coats of lacquer. Really *really* hope it's fully hardened by a week on Monday!

mat_the_cat reacted to Datsuncog in Datsuncog's Heaps: Sept 2023 - Another Year's T-Met Exemption Certificate... April 12

Well well well... nearly two years without any updates to this thread, hey?
Mmm, you don't get away that easily.
So, what gives in these strange times, daddy-o?
Well, not much in the way of motoring, to be fair.
Both the wub-wub-wub Forester Turbo and the increasingly scratty yet unkillable Mk1 Yaris have largely continued to just be an cars, in their usual disgustingly dependable early-2000s Japanese tradition.
Mostly.
Which means that, unlike my agonisingly-documented years of Rennering, nothing's really fallen off, blown up, or urgently needed to be bodged with White-Tac ten minutes before an MOT. Therefore, as predicted by the Autoshite sages upthread, I've merely missed out on a world of automotive pain - but you cats have missed out on further side-splitting* antics from the hapless DC and his ever-shifting roster of totally fucking fucked m8 sub-£300 Mk1 Lagunas.
But then, since both the Subaru and the Toyota have hardly been driven since midway through last March - to the extent that my insurer generously refunded me a whopping £10.08, since my average weekly mileage has dropped from 300 to less than 50 - and, with both of them running on Boris MOTs, I suppose they haven't had all that much opportunity to go wrong in a highly conspicuous and/or gratuitously expensive manner.
Until now, of course.
But with recent tales of @Tim_E's tribulations over his Passat, and @Dan_ZTT's relatable Vel Satis electronic funsies, I was moved to bang out a long-overdue update.

The Forester has proved itself a thoroughly decent motor, and it came as a mild shock to realise I've been driving it for verging on three years now, making it my second-longest lived daily after KAZ.
I mean, it's had a bit of work here and there - I replaced the droopy rear springs with heavyweight Sachs jobs not long after acquiring it, and then rebuilt the brakes with new discs 'n' pads all round over the summer, as they were never quite right and had become really gritty through lack of use. I didn't do this work myself, of course; I've no doubt I would have managed to take my head off my shoulders using a spring clamp, and my rip-roaring success* with brakes can also be found documented a few pages back. But other than a healthy appetite for headlight bulbs, Subaru ownership has been largely uneventful. A dashboard bulb here and a sticky boot release there; nothing much to write about, really.
So I didn't. Obviously.
Well, cold weather ain't great for shite motors, that much we know.

But, having started, run and stopped pretty much on the button since I acquired it, I suppose I'd become somewhat complacent.
So, Christmas Eve 2020. I'd headed out early to pick up a few last-minute bits and bobs, for a greatly-reduced and socially distanced pandemic festive season. So far, so good. Christmas Day, we went nowhere - video calls to friends and family, and a dinner that mainly involved a gigantic bowl of prawn cocktail each. Hey, we're all just trying to do it to get through it, and if 'it' happens to be a kilo of prawns, then I'll be doing my bit, for sure.

Then, on Boxing Day afternoon, I went out to retrieve some stuff from the boot and the central locking wouldn't unlock when I jabbed the keyfob. Nothing. Nada.
Now, I knew the fob was already a bit dicky, often requiring four or five increasingly irate pushes before it'd operate. I'd replaced the battery about a year before and given the contacts a good scrub with electrical cleaner, to no avail.
Typically, the car only came with one key, and after the purchase I'd tried and failed to find anyone who could cut me a like-for-like spare. The weird one-button design of this particular fob doesn't match the one shown in the owner's manual, and seems nigh-on impossible to find; replacement two-button Subaru keys are widely available, but apparently not the one-button type.
Naturally, Subaru had decided to fit these fobs with a weird narrow-but-thick CR1632 button cell battery, which had given me all sorts of gyp while trying to track one down before; apparently, these aren't ones you can simply pick up from the battery section in Home Bargains or Tesco. Why I hadn't bought two of them last year is anyone's guess, but I ended up ordering one on Boxing Day Night from Amazon (yes, just the one - because, as you'll deduce after three consecutive Mk1 Lagunas, I never learn).

What with seasonal festivities, and New Year, and the country falling into a terrifying vortex of death and despair as COVID-19 fatalities went through the fucking roof again, it took a little while for the fob battery to turn up on the doorstep (and I genuinely am grateful for the postal delivery workers who have gone way above and beyond to keep things even slightly functioning in this past year; even though Jeff Bezos seems to have trouble finding his wallet when it comes to paying them a fair wage).
During this time, it had occurred to me that I might use the dead key to manually open the car through the driver's side lock and retrieve my festive delights from the boot, but I was dissuaded from this by fears that I would trigger the alarm via the interior sensors, and then be totally unable to switch the damn thing off, and end up having to rip out all the wires and cables with my bare hands just to stop the bastard sounding over and over and over and over, my ham-fistedness then causing something fatal to the needlessly complex Sigma alarm/immobiliser system.
And we certainly wouldn't want any of that happening, would we? Can you even imagine how much of a total fucking ball-ache it would be if that happened, boys and girls?
[Pregnant pause for dramatic eyebrow raising and heavy foreshadowing, in best storyteller tradition.]
Of course, the new fob battery made not a shred of difference. Still nothing doing, no matter how much I pushed, begged and pleaded.

So, reasoning that the microswitch had finally given up completely (after giving me scarcely a year's warning that it was failing - tut tut) and lacking any of the tools, parts or technical wherewithal to solder on a new one, for once I did the smart thing and went looking for a professional who could repair it properly.
Of course, no local locksmiths reckoned they could do the work, and what with a nationwide stay-at-home order in force, travelling further afield in the off-chance wasn't a realistic possibility. Luckily, eBay rode to the rescue with a postal key repair service; the specific mono-buttoned Forester fob was listed, with a same-day turnaround…

So although I had my misgivings about entrusting the only key to the car to the tender mercies of Royal Mail, I told myself I was merely being paranoid. But of course I selected a tracked and signed next day service, for total peace of mind.
Oh, you can see where this is going too, can't you?
I'll draw a veil over the ensuing postal shitshow, but suffice to say the grim details can be found on the Grumpy Thread.
I should clarify that my gnashing of teeth wasn't directed at those Royal Mail employees out doing the deliveries, again in very challenging and dangerous conditions, but the fact that their online retail arm was continuing to sell premium next-day services with no ability to actually provide the service paid for. If the website had simply said, 'look, we're flat-out here, we'll do our best but no promises, right now it's second -class mail only, tracked if you need it' then I would have been cool with that.
So it was nearly a month before I saw my key again; all of it down to Royal Mail slinging my 'guaranteed next-day' parcel into a corner of a warehouse and then ignoring it for three and a bit weeks, and none of it down to the repair dude in Peterborough, who did indeed turn the repair round the same day it arrived, and had it back with me the next.
Problem solved, hey?
Sagging with relief, I pointed the key at the Forester and… nothing. Again.
Now, I could feel the new switch clicking ok, so clearly the work had been done. But the car remained stubbornly locked.
A quick peek inside revealed the clock was now blank… and after manually unlocking the door (with some trepidation) and popping the bonnet, a quick tickle with a battery tester tool confirmed that the battery was now totally flat.
Muttering assorted curses, I dragged the battery out (not as easy as it might have been, due to the crowded engine bay) and slung it on the charge overnight, first topping up the electrolyte which was looking unhelpfully low.

It seemed to take a charge ok, so I threw it back into the engine bay the following morning and connected it all up. Hopes were high, but still nada. The central locking did now operate from the keyfob and the clock came back on, but efforts to turn the engine over merely resulted in assorted relay clickings and dimming dashlights. No cranking.
Well, bollocks. A goosed battery.
A feeling of dim irritation scratched at my fingertips, as I twigged that this could have accounted for the sudden non-opening on Boxing Day, and perhaps I'd been a little too quick to ascribe it to the dodgy-looking keyfob. I've only once before had a battery totally fail on me without warning - and that time it left me stranded mid-way round the Great Ocean Road outside Melbourne, in a deserted national park with no mobile phone signal. So y'know, small mercies and all that.
I slammed the bonnet and invented a few new curse-words. It was early February, it was freezing, I had nowhere to go anyway so what was the point in prioritising expenditure on this bag o'misery right now? It had sat now for about five weeks, a few longer wouldn't kill it.
In best Cosmic Joker tradition, my bluff was called at around half past three the following morning.
Yes, a.m.
WEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwww.
Fuck. Is that...?
WEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwww.
Ah, shit!!
I hammered down the stairs, clad in my cosy jim-jams, and began rummaging frantically in the key box while MrsDC smacked on the hall lights, temporarily blinding me.
WEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwww.
The Forester's alarm has done this before. It's a pain in the hoop, and Subaru forums the world over have any number of threads about problematic alarms. It seems that Subaru, keen to ensure that ne'er-do-wells don't get an easy time in pinching their esteemed products, have such ludicrously sensitive alarms and locks that damn near anything sets them off.
So I'm no stranger to this 3.30am alarm call (and neither are the other 400 households within earshot), usually triggered by a cat jumping on the roof, the dashcam sucker coming off the windscreen, a particularly lardy leaf brushing the doorhandle, or a blackbird looking at it funny.
But usually I just need to give the keyfob a squeeze and it shuts off. Most of the time I don't even need to open the front door; I can just press the button in the hall and silence blessed silence returns, allowing me to slink back upstairs again and pretend it was nothing to do with me.
But not this time.
WEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwww.
I jabbed away at the newly-repaired keyfob like a maniac, but to no avail.
Wrenching the front door open, I stood outside under the winter night's frosty void, pointing the key in fury at the flashing, squealing Forester, like a deranged Harry Potter in slippers.
Alarmus fucking negato.

(Not actual game footage)
WEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwww.
I knew that the alarm was meant to only sound for thirty seconds before automatically turning off, but this was a long thirty seconds. A very, very long thirty seconds.
Lights were starting to come on in some of the bedroom windows opposite. FFS.
I tried the Subaru's doors to find they were still locked despite all the fob-battering, and with the alarm still showing no sign of getting bored with its earsplitting nocturnal warblings, I scuttled round to the driver's door and manually unlocked it, before trying the button again from the inside - for reasons that are still unclear.
WEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwww.
Naturally, no improvement was forthcoming.
I tried the key in the ignition, in case this would magically silence it.
Nope.
I flailed around, jabbing on all the overhead lights as if that might help the situation; I even pulled everything out of the glove box in case there was a miracle device in there that would end this sonic torment for me and about two-thirds of the population of south-east Antrim, but in doing so simply managed to scatter a Belfast A-Z, the locking wheel nut socket and, oddly, a large block of marzipan onto the floor, but noooooo... the alarm decided to just keep on keepin' on.
WEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwww
Eventually, the voice of reason made itself known through the electronic tumult, in the form of a somewhat fed-up MrsDC.
"Can you not just disconnect the battery?"
Yes. Yes, I probably could. Or I could wait until a mob formed and tried to do something clever to my neck using a length of knotted towrope and next door's tree, but on speedy reflection I felt this was a reasonable course of action to explore further, without the encumbrance of a written business case.
I popped the bonnet lever, and scurried round to the front of the car. The Subaru's release catch is never quite where I expect it to be, so a further ten seconds of fumbling ensued while I swore and barked my knuckles repeatedly on the freezing metal. Eventually, I got the bonnet up.
WEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwww
Oh brilliant, now people across the Irish Sea in Dumfries could enjoy Fuji Heavy Industries Ltd's delightful contribution to the dawn chorus. How astute of Subaru's design team to realise that when a car's being tea-leafed in Belfast, it's important that people in Carlisle know about it.
It felt like I was being strobed with one of those sound cannons used to break up riots; the fluctuating pressure on my eardrums was unbelievable, as I grabbed and pawed at anything resembling a cable in my stunned stupor.
WEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEE-
Suddenly, it all stopped.
Everything.
Was I dead? Had someone taken pity on my cack-handed endeavours and just knocked me out with a single .30 rifle round, fired from their bedroom window?
Hopefully. That would certainly seem a preferable outcome to having to deal with this fuckabout any longer.
But no; I'd managed to wrench off the clamp from the battery's negative terminal. A blessed peace descended once more upon the land.
I closed the bonnet and limped inside, my ears ringing and my knuckles grazed, and my bollocks frozen.
Fuck me ragged. Cars, eh?

The next morning, looking suitably chastised, I dutifully toddled over in the Yaris to the Local Motor Factor a few streets over and, via a mixture of improvised mime and Makaton through masks from a distance of 2 metres across the Perspex till barrier, I managed to communicate that I needed a new car battery. The old one was tested and pronounced useless (dead cell); and I was relieved of seventy quid for an unfamiliarly named 'Napa' replacement with a 5yr warranty.
I sloped on home, and slotted the new one into the Forester's irritatingly small and inaccessible battery tray, which required the bending of various air con gubbins in a way that appears somewhat unwise, in order to get it in.
I also noted that this power cube boasted a rather beefier CCA rating of 510, rather than the 380 amps of the problematic Exide that had lived in there previously. Hmm.
Nipping everything up, it was time for the moment of truth...
Oh yes!
It started! The old Subaru flat-4 caught and went whurble-whurble-whurble for the first time in about six weeks.
I left it to run, to get it up to temperature before doing anything more ambitious. A quick scoot-over with the battery tester device indicated no alternator issues, which had also concerned me, and I was greatly reassured that the transponder in the keyfob hadn't managed to lose all its data or something during the repair process. It lived!
I R MECKANICKING JEANIUS.
Feeling well chuffed - while trying to forget that there was plainly never anything much wrong with the keyfob in the first place so I could have saved myself all that expense and hassle in the first instance - I decided to take the car up to the filling station and reinflate the tyres, which had gone a bit saggy-looking in the intervening time.
But, as luck would have it, something elsewhere needed attending to first, and then summat else, and suddenly the car had been idling for half an hour and I had other tasks still incomplete so... still feeling pleased, I shut the engine off and locked up, intending to inflate the tyres and take it for a drive tomorrow.
But, as Ronan Keating posited so touchingly/mawkishly (delete as appropriate) - what if tomorrow never comes?

It was still dark when I was awoken from my slumbers once again.
WEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwww
GAAAAAAH!!
I flollopped down the stairs like a drunken sack of spuds, and was so insensible to all but the hideous electronic keening that I was out the door with the car keys before I realised that I wasn't wearing my slippers, or indeed any other form of footwear.
We have a gravel driveway. Actually, that's not quite true. We have a grit driveway. Because I am a cheap-ass mofo (who knew?), I twigged that it was much, much cheaper to buy ton bags of horticultural grit than it was to buy yer actual driveway gravel. Because you really don't notice the difference - except if you happen to walk on it in bare feet because, here's the thing; gravel is biggish and rounded, and grit is small and sharp.
Damned sharp.
Suddenly, I became very much apprised of the opposing spatial properties of grit vs. gravel, but hadn't really the time to go into the subtleties of the argument since, like tending a squalling infant, my overriding instinct at that moment was directed solely at the Subaru's squealing and my heartfelt desire to MAKE IT STOP.
WEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwww.
Yeah, that.
As before, pressing the keyfob did nothing at all, so I scuttled round to the driver's side, manually unlocked the door, reached in and hauled at the bonnet release cable.
Some more messing with the catch earned me another faceful of decibels ( WEEEEEEEowwwww WEEEEEEEowwwww etc etc), and then I twisted and joggled at the negative battery clamp (which, it turned out, I'd done an absolutely first-rate job of nipping up really tightly) until, eventually, a shocked peace reverberated through the pre-dawn streets once more.
I'll admit it, I was close to tears this time. I'd bought it a new battery, I'd bought it a new microswitch, and in return I'd managed to piss off every man, woman and child in a mile radius on two consecutive nights - plus my bare feet were full of sharp grit.
I limped back inside, and spent the lonely hours before sun-up in the bathroom, removing said pieces of grit from my feet using tweezers and a bowl of TCP, all the while doing some hardcore rumination on my life choices to date - and would a Hyundai i20 on finance really be such a bad thing after all?
It's contemplative moments like these on ghost-grey February mornings that I believe can break a shiter.
I'm sure as and when Martin Scorsese gets around to putting together a biopic of my assorted motoring non-adventures (hey, he's a busy guy, don't @ him) he'll probably add in some sort of flashback montage around this scene, involving such highlights as me tooling round in a Datsun Sunny with plastic sheeting instead of windows, having to ask MrsDC to hang off the end of a 5ft breaker bar to support the engine in a Polo while I removed one of the mounts, and setting my trousers on fire while trying to take the exhaust off a Viva HC with an angle grinder.
Probably with an appropriately melancholic soundtrack (emphatically not Ronan Keating, though).
Hey, he can fill in the details; I'm not gonna tell him how to do his job.
So, self-pity aside (and hey, I don't like to brag but I know how to throw one hell of a pity party), the following morning the Forester was still inert, and every time I took a step my feet felt like I'd stuffed my socks with steel swarf.
I was also delighted* to realise that I'd apparently broken the bonnet release in my haste to shut the thing up, as now the damn bonnet wouldn't close at all.

So I did what I always do in these situations; I ignored it.
I ignored the shit out of it. For about a month and a half.
Which was something of a challenge, since it's right outside the front door - but I have form in this kind of endurance test, so I was pretty confident I'd win.
Just ask any of the Renners. Two years? Easy.
Every weekend, MrsDC and I would stage a jolly pantomime over breakfast, where she'd very casually ask if I was planning on doing anything with the broken car, and I'd tell her I was going to fix it.
Then we'd both have a good laugh, and I wouldn't.
Life's a riot over at Casa Datsuncog.
But once again, I managed to draw on my deep reserves of personal character*. And so a heroic battle was waged over the course of a few weeks between my total apathetic laziness and my utter, shameless parsimony, which was incandescent that I'd stumped up three months' worth of road tax in 2021 (value: nearly £100) for a car that had not turned a wheel on the Queen's highway in all that time.
Thus, Parsimony demanded that Apathy ought to just crack on and SORN the fucker if it was going nowhere, and cut our damn losses while we worked out what to do with the ungrateful remains. Apathy protested that it was really all Motivation's fault for doing nothing beyond warily pushing at the bonnet every few days just to confirm it still wouldn't latch, while Motivation then shouted that Parsimony was really to blame for not calling out a mobile autospark back in January to confirm what the actual fucking problem was, rather than piss about playing fucking parts darts in the cold for weeks at a stretch.
You really don't want to live in my head, I tell you. You really don't.
So on Sunday past, I cracked. I did. It was a surprise to me just as much as you, let me say.
The first thing was the bonnet latch. Now, I have no special knowledge of bonnet latches, to be fair, but the principle of the thing is fairly simple - basically like a bike's cable brake, but attached to a spring to release a rotating chock and allow the bonnet to move up thanks to another spring. There had to be a limit to the complexity of this one, even by my rock-bottom skills.
Luckily*, the grille pretty much fell off in my hand, so I could quickly see what was going on behind. (Note to self: order more cable ties ASAP.)

Prodding at the mechanism with a screwdriver did nothing much, so the next challenge was - remove the latch without killing myself.
I was fairly sure the rather terrifyingly powerful spring was retained inside somehow, and wouldn't ping out and embed itself in my throat as soon as I began to slacken the bolts, but still...

Mmmm, that's looking pretty horrible.
Off with the braided cable, and I skipped back into the comparative warmth of the house to give the whole shebang a nice bath in some household petrol and a brisk scrub with a toothbrush [insert joke about 'reminder to rinse the missus' toothbrush before returning it to the bathroom', arf arf]
Yeah, that looks a brave bit better.

Thoughts of a quick win have been far from my mind of late, but I was genuinely amazed to find that when reattached, the bonnet now closed and opened correctly. So it really was just choked solid with manky old grease and glar.
Giddy with excitement at the unexpected success with Phase 1, I turned to the battery.
Gingerly, I reconnected the negative lead...
WEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwww
Ah, bollocks.
MrsDC did all sorts of ingenious things with the key from the driver's seat while I whipped the terminal on and off. Some folks on the Subaru forums recommend the use of 'valet mode' to deal with a misbehaving alarm, involving pressing buttons a certain number of times with doors and ignitions in specific positions to deactivate the alarm.
However, my own Forester manual says nothing at all about this mode (maybe because valet parking ain't really a thing here in Blighty?) and my efforts to follow their step-by-step instructions ran into bother.
The advice given was to open the car as normal, get in while leaving the door open, then press and hold the 'unlock' button for two seconds to activate valet mode, which would cause the immobiliser light on the dash to double-flash to show it was activated .
Sadly, as mentioned, this particular fob doesn't possess a dedicated 'unlock' button - only the single dual-function lock/unlock button. -So all that happened was that the car attempted to lock itself again as soon as the button was pressed, but then couldn't because the door was open.
And all the while going WEEEEEEEowwwww WEEEEEEEowwwww WEEEEEEEowwwww WEEEEEEEowwwww WEEEEEEEowwwww WEEEEEEEowwwww. Yup, plenty of that.
With patience running thin, I tried to work out logically what the problem might be.
Were the keyfob and immobiliser system no longer on speaking terms, since the microswitch was replaced?
No, because it had run when the new battery was fitted.
Were the immobiliser and alarm banjaxed due to being left with no battery connected?
Possibly. I've heard of otherwise sound cars being bridged as they've ended up with a recurring alarm fault that just can't be traced or fixed following a battery problem. And at first the car was ok when the battery was connected - but now the alarm was sounding as soon as the terminal made contact with the cable.
I glared at the new battery. Maybe... maybe it was dodgy? It's far from unknown; back in my Halfords days, there was probably a 10% return rate on new batteries (what can I say, they were made by Lucas back then...). I went in and found my multimeter, which indicated 11.34v across the terminals. Not, like, flat - but not really great.

So I pulled the battery again, and hooked it up to the old Linwood charger overnight. Maybe it was faulty, maybe it was just low after being left to sit unconnected for several weeks. Maybe there was an electrical drain somewhere? I'd spent a happy* few weeks trying to solve the riddle of the Amazing Disappearing Charge on my flatmate's Metro back in Brighton many years ago, and never did get to the bottom of the issue.
Just as I was looking at the Linwood's needle trembling around the charge gauge's halfway mark, there came a familiar sound from outside.
WEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwww.
WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK??
For a second, I thought I was actually losing my mind. The battery was sitting there in front of me on the kitchen worktop, yet the Forester's alarm was unmistakable.
Was there a SECONDARY battery?
Was there a BACKUP independent alarm system?
Were we deep into the same twilight realm of @Jim Bell's Zafira alarm woes, and the immortal "I did a bad fright"?
My brain splintering into fragments, I rushed to the front door and pulled it open.
WEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwwwWEEEEEEEowwwww.
You have no idea how glad I was to realise that it was next door's son's Mitsubishi Lancer Evo X spitting its dummy out on this occasion. Interesting that it must use the same Sigma alarm siren as the Subaru. I'm pretty well attuned to that particular sound these days, believe it or not.

By Monday morning, the battery was showing a healthier 12.38v across the poles, although after disconnection this dropped after a few hours to 12.24v. I left it out on the worktop, checking on it every now and then like a worried old lady whose cat's gone off its food.
On Tuesday evening, with 3 tons of topsoil due for delivery the next morning (plus another ton of grit to top up the driveway, because as we know I never learn), I realised it was essential to get the Forester mobile and out of the drive, or risk imprisoning it behind all the dumpy bags for another couple of months. So, having prevaricated mightily all day and with the scanty spring evening light now going, I bit the bullet and slotted the battery back in. And reattached the retaining bar. It was now or never.

Positive clamp to positive terminal. Okay.

As I touched the negative clamp to the negative terminal, the alarm gave a brief squawk and, as a reflex, I pulled it back off again. FFS. Was this really going to fight me every step of the way?
Screwing down my courage to the sticking point, I jammed the clamp firmly onto the terminal.
Nothing. No alarm. Silence.
I lowered the bonnet.
I pressed the key fob.
Klung-ki-ki-klik.
The car locked. The indicators flashed.
I pressed it again.
Klung-ki-klik.
It opened.
Feeling like this was more of a job for the bomb squad, I opened the driver's door. Silence. Nothing.
Just the 'immobiliser disarmed' light glowing red on the clock cubby.
Key in. Engage.
BANG! It fired up!
That familiar roar through the stainless back box, and the throb of the flat-4. It worked.
I sat back in the seat, in relief.
And then I noticed the glow from the overhead lights. I possibly wouldn't have noticed if it had been earlier in the day, but as I said, the daylight was going.
Ah.
You may recall that way back, on the occasion of the Forester's first performance of solo nocturnes, I'd knocked all the interior lights on to see what was what?
And then pulled the battery lead?
And then fitted a brand new battery on a sunny spring morning, which ran absolutely fine?
But then the alarm went off again, about 18 hours later?

You're all way, way ahead of me here, aren't you?

Yeah. I'd drained the brand new battery with the still-switched-on interior lights that I didn't notice were on, causing the alarm to flip out when the voltage dropped below 12 volts.
That was the problem the whole time.
I was giving serious thought about selling it as a non-runner, or even scrapping it altogether. When it turns out the the only problem is that I'm as dumb as a bag of rocks.
Well well well.

And you know what the best bit is?
I did exactly the same fucking thing with one of the Lagunas four years ago.

Nope, it's true. I never learn.
DC out.

mat_the_cat reacted to juular in 1964 Volvo 122S - Amazonian rustforest. Electroshite. April 11

Just did a test drive there, it's going really well. Only casualty seems to be the temperature gauge not working. It looks like the actual sender on the engine has failed as it's gone completely open circuit, so a new one is on its way.
Next up, I have more fun upgrades.

mat_the_cat reacted to Dyslexic Viking in 1963 Mercedes Benz 190DC Fintail. First start 2024. April 11

I changed the engine oil and oil filter today and there was some good news. I have until now used a heavy duty diesel engine oil in this and think it has cleaning stuff in it, this has now got all the oil sludge out of the engine.
This was the oil pre-filter that came out of the engine now after 1000km and had little in it.

For comparison, this is how the pre-filter was at the last oil change, which was only 280km. This was then so clogged that it was not possible to clean and had to be replaced.

So now with the oil sludge gone I can do regular oil changes. And now switching to a slightly thicker oil.
After cleaning the pre-filter, it was to find a new oil filter and install them. The oil filter on these is, as I have previously mentioned, is a challenge as it is tight and must be careful that the pre-filter does not come off during installation. But got it done this time too.
I like the oil filters on these they are unlike anything else I have seen before.

So with new engine oil and filters it was time to start it again.

mat_the_cat got a reaction from Dick Longbridge in What has two seats, a mid-mounted 6 cylinder engine, and a turbo? Time for windscreen number 5! April 12

Minor update - both A pillars and (quite a few) rust spots on the upper lip have been cleaned up, phosphate treated and ready for masking and etch primer.

I'm hoping for some decent weather so I can bake the paint before the screen is fitted, but not massively optimistic. Thinking at least a week to harden.

mat_the_cat got a reaction from Sunny Jim in What has two seats, a mid-mounted 6 cylinder engine, and a turbo? Time for windscreen number 5! April 11

Before doing any welding whatsoever, I made an extra long lance from 3 originals joined together.

This is so I could arrange it in the correct position for optimum coverage, before putting the panel in position.

I used mini G clamps to hold the 3 layers together.

And here you can see how the holes in the outer panel are lined up with those in the middle layer, which I'd previously only tacked into position and ground back.

This meant I could create a decent plug weld, and tie all 3 layers together.

Once I'd done all the plug welds and tacked the front edge, I ground them all back ready for seam welding in stages.

I was trying to minimise the gap to make life easier for myself when it came to welding 1mm steel. I found that on a current sufficient to get good penetration on the first pulse, by the time I'd laid down 3 or 4 more pulses, the localised heat build up meant I was in danger of blowing through, so I just moved on to another location. And repeat...

Finally, it was a case of taking the flap disc to it, followed by the power sander to flatten out any imperfections. This should still be under the seal, so I dont think I need to use filler.

Then a coat of etch primer to protect while I treat the surface rust which is around the rest of the frame.

Lastly I used my new lance to spray cavity wax on the rear of the weld, which did reveal two pinholes...easily dealt with though. Time for bed now!

mat_the_cat reacted to rusty_vw_man in Rusty VW bothering - on the road again April 11

Thanks! You never know if people are interested or if you are just shouting into the void!
So this Easter trip was back to Spain - ferry to Bilbao, then Zaragoza, Valencia, Toledo and back to get the ferry home from Santander. 2200 miles, 64 hours on a ferry.
Photos are a bit patchy, as due to my charging skills* my phone was often flat, because I’d plug one end into the phone, but forget to put the other end in a usb socket. Winner.
Firstly churros.

crispy hot loveliness dipped in molten chocolate. What’s not to love. For bonus points I saved some down my T-shirt for later.

Lots of old shite around the place - loads of old French luxury saloons still doing sterling service. Car of the trip for me was this one though, what a beauty:

for bonus points still apparently in everyday use.
Zaragoza saw me having a squint at this, which was similar to mine but more dieselly:

Weather here was a bit mixed - warm but quite wet from time to time.
Next stop Valencia, which was endless orange trees that I have lots of photos of but they just look like fields of trees, and you don’t get the lovely smell. It was much warmer and more desert like - this was the campsite:

whilst there I also tried pleb-shite (or cycling as the masses insist on calling it) for the first time in years.
and I shit you not, found the actual holy grail - I’ve no idea what Monty Python or Indiania Jones were up to, it’s just in a side chapel in Valencia cathedral. if you believe the story it’s apparently the real deal. If you don’t it’s still a pretty impressive cup

bit more camp action:

Saw another nice caravelle which was for sale - lot less rusty than mine living as it had in the sun:

now I’m not religious in the slightest, but the Spanish catholics know how to build a top notch place of worship

next was a trip over to Toledo and Aranjuez through the most horrific weather I’d ever driven in - driving rain and sleet.
Toledo was spectacular, but a bit busy for me, full of other tourists and tat shops (never had so many opportunities to buy a sword).

the royals summer palace was a thing of extravagance - first some carriage shite

their smoking room - not sure what they were smoking though!

and the most comprehensive selection of coffee in machine id ever seen

did enjoy it all, and loved the geckos in the wash block

started the long trip home and had the first issue. Gears have a dog leg first, with reverse above. Couldn’t select first or reverse. Two options - shagged gear bag (there is a delicate ‘hockey stick’ that controls these gears) or linkage issues.

popped the selector box off, and found that without the lock out gate in place everything worked as it should, which was a relief. There is a spring loaded ball bearing that slots into an indent that prevents this bellows collapsing, and thus locking out 1st and reverse:

the ball under some pressure released at speed into the car park:

but I finally found it under the white one! Next it needed some cleaning and lube, but I had to improvise

worked a treat and off we went again. Made it back to the ferry
where I did spot this

come on - own up which one of it was you?!
got home 11:30 last night and back at work today.
Some minor work to do over the next couple of months then off to Finland and Northern Norway…..
can highly recommend Spain, lovely people, cracking cars and some great driving. The long ferry is also worth it I think, although it was just a shade rough on the return leg - I found myself at one point in the air falling, as my bunk was swiftly coming back up to meet me! Will book it agin for next year, give us something to look forward to!

mat_the_cat reacted to Saabnut in How much shite is too much shite? Not Over for the Rover - Yet! April 10

Well a day of mixed emotions as I am heading to port (Schiedam) to demobilise for the last time. Sad to realise it will be the last time I will look closely at rigs from the sea after 35 years - glad it is all over! Tomorrow I fly home and Saturday morning I start my retirement! It should mean more pictures of cars and less of the sea on here.....
The sun setting on my career;

mat_the_cat reacted to Saabnut in How much shite is too much shite? Not Over for the Rover - Yet! April 10

I dropped off the Xantia at my Shitroen Fondler and it should be ready when I return. When I left, and as allured to above, the Xantia was going to a new owner, one of my Saabs was leaving and an addition was being made in exchange for the Saab. Despite being away from home and the world of work going mad, the collection count is now three higher than when I left. Firstly the Xantia is staying, the prospective new owner succumbed to something more modern and boring (a turbo diesel Fiat) and I am very happy about that. It means I will have a spare car again, and it looks like it will immediately be required as my neighbour has just had total clutch failure on his 3 year old, 20k mile Toyota Landcruiser! I offered him the use of one of my 4x4s but he declined as he is in his mid 70s and has never driven an automatic! He can borrow the Xantia for shopping runs when I get home.
Next, Malc dropped me a mail saying common sense* has prevailed and he has too many projects so was going to change his mind on having the Saab. This made me happy as I really did not want to part with the Saab, but sad I was not going to be getting his project. Malc then went on to say that the project could be available for cash, a very reasonable price was agreed and I did a bank transfer before he could change his mind . As a result, since I left home two vehicles are now not leaving and an additional one is arriving. That went well*. The new project is a make I have only had one of, and that one was a non running major project that was too much work for me so got sold on PDQ. It has sat in a corner of Malcs shed for many years after a an FTS just after he got it. Hoping to collect it mid next week if I can escape this boat as planned.
Talking of work, that is going great*. As I have mentioned, I plan on retiring at the end of Feb when my ticket expires as I have had enough and all my old bosses (who have become friends) have retired. Whilst the new bosses are nice enough, it is not the same, and I suspect that there is a bit of tolleration rather than acceptance as the new bosses inherited me and had no say in my hiring which is understandable and they have not seen first hand what I can bring to the party. A few days, I was going through some of the multibeam echosounder images we have produced (not strictly part of my job, but because I am like that) and spotted what I thought was a potential problem. I requested some further scans by the boat which appeared to confirm my suspicions so I sent a copy to the beach with my theory. Oh dear.
Because I am the only offshore construction representative on this boat (they were short staffed and experience told me I could handle it fine) I have been working extended hours. Since I flung the shite at the fan, ny hours have been get up at 0530 CET (0430 GMT) start work by 0550 and work through to about 2230 CET. This is a long day and not allowed by legislation, but you do what you need to do to get the job done. In addition, the meeting room is 5 decks below my office, and the canteen is another deck down. We have at least 3 meetings a day, plus 3 meals a day so I am averaging 45 to 50 flights of stairs a day. The result is I am fairly knackered as I am too old for this shite.
Whilst on a port call a couple of days ago, my boss and his boss came to visit to look through all the data to basically see if I was right or talking out of my backside. What I did not know was one of the other reps who I have worked alongside occasionally for the last couple of years who is nice socially and a PITA to work with, saw this as an opportunity to get his contract (currently expiring in May 24) extended and had been showing my bosses how all this was my fault, I had not been doing my job properly etc etc and how he could take it over and do much better. I tthink he had had some success as when the bosses arrived, their attitude was distinctly chilly towards me, fortunately I cared not.
After a few hours talking and looking at the data as I had, they came to the conclusion I was right and they do indeed have a problem. This problem is going to require further vessels and will cost many, many millions to fix. By the end of their visit, we had a very warm and good relationship, and they went to great lengths to thank me for spotting the problem and highlighting it to them.
This post has taken me three days to put together, I keep falling asleep in the evenings whilst typing it. What has spurred me on to finish it this morning, is I just heard the other rep who was trying to stab me in the back was called into a meeting yesterday and was told his contract was terminating on the 20th December as his services are no longer required!
Karma is a thing!

mat_the_cat got a reaction from RoverFolkUs in The grumpy thread April 10

Scammers reaching a new low today:
Someone my wife knew has recently died - https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-wales-68435343
So she gets an invite to his funeral online, but the website wants card details to verify identity, but that no payment will be taken. Next thing is she's getting a call from the HSBC fraud department saying that the scammers are trying to take money! I'm guessing they must trawl social media for people who've died, and then go after the friends and relatives.