3 TIGERS@LE MANS.AGAIN

OK, before anyone starts putting their anorak on: I know only two Sunbeam Tigers raced at Le Mans in 1964, but the prototype was there as well (see picture).

Regular readers may recall that last year, I met up with John Connolly, Neil Wingate and their two Tigers, thus reviving a long held yearning to have one of my own. Finally, after five months of trawling the country looking for the right one, I found her, bright red, affordable, original log book and service history, and first registered on my eleventh birthday! Who says there's no such thing as fate.

After the usual last minute panics, would John's new wheels turn up in time, perhaps he really ought to get the MOT done before we left, etc, we met up at Portsmouth ferry terminal on the Wednesday morning before this years race. Alas I was already in trouble, taken to task over the erected status of my hood... "Is your roof broken?" was my greeting: fortunately a good quantity of lame excuses ("drying it out after overnight rain", "security on the ferry", "just washed my hair"), combined with adulation of John's mirror finish Minilites seemed to have me forgiven. Boarding the ferry to Caen, after the obligatory photograph (wish I had taken the roof down), the three of us, with our passengers (I believe "riding mechanic" is the classic car term), James King, Dick Woollacott and Nick sat down for the full Brittany Ferries breakfast.

Arriving in Caen at around 2pm, running repairs had to be made, as John's new tyres were being shredded on his rear wheel arches. After he had removed the spacers, we set off for a leisurely run in convoy under a cloudless sky to Le Mans, uneventful apart from a couple of refreshment stops, where I was surprised to hear the others complaining of cooked feet: supposedly a feature of travelling in a Tiger in warm weather. Why was I not suffering from this affliction? A quick inspection revealed carpets with underlay providing insulation and had the other resolving to replace their bulkhead grommets (a tricky job, I understand, but one that does a lot to keep the engine heat out of the cockpit).

We had clearly made at least one stop too many, because by the time we reached Le Mans, the traffic was horrendous, virtually gridlocked, with eyes glued to temperature gauges and heaters full on (I thought 230°F was hot, but not after the return trip!). We eventually reached our campsite, Camping Houx, inside the circuit at 7pm, just as the first qualifying session was getting under way. Being good little campers, however, we got the tents up and cars unloaded before setting off for the track, a few beers and something to eat (not necessarily in that order). After visiting various vantage points we settled on the Café Tertre Rouge to fulfil all our requirements, remaining there until after the finish of night qualifying at midnight. I am told that I had to be assisted back to camp, but I only remember waking up the following morning wishing I hadn't done whatever I did!

Thursday started off mundanely, shopping first for breakfast (pain au chocolat, sausages and scrambled egg) then for our evening barbecue (duck kebabs, steaks and salad), descending on the Bar du Sport at Mulsanne for lunch and a game of boules. Unfortunately Madame had covered the boules court with tables and chairs do we moved on the Café Hunaudières on the Mulsanne straight. A few beers later, a work crew turned up to prepare the circuit for evening qualifying and it became clear it was time to leave: imagine our disappointment when we discovered the circuit had already been closed in the opposite direction and as they were already erecting the Armco we were forced to drive round both Mulsanne chicanes and Mulsanne corner. Imagine our distress as we were able to explore the racing line at Indianapolis and Arnage, I just wish that I'd thought to get the video camera out.

Back at the campsite, John got the barbecue underway, styling himself as "The Seated Chef", requiring all present to fetch and carry while he remained firmly in his chair by the barbie. He soon discovered the disadvantages, as the wind shifted and then as not inconsiderable quantities of water started flying about. Thursday qualifying had us trying out our grandstand seats and then watching proceedings form the Esses before settling at Tertre Rouge again. After the circuit outlets stopped serving alcohol, we moved on to the Bar au Portes du Circuit, outside the main entrance, one of James' and my old haunts and much appreciated by the other Tigers who didn't know of its existence.

"Mad" Friday dawned bright and clear and after a barbecued breakfast (and great difficulty rousing a snoring James from his slumbers) we wandered over to the pits for the customary look at the preparations for the following day's race. Unlike previous years when nobody seemed to be doing anything except polishing, there was plenty of activity, with engine and suspension changes galore. Hunaudières again at lunch time, but rather disappointing this year, as the usual unofficial cruise was being dampened by the presence of CRS riot police with speed guns in addition to their usual hardware. There were a couple of other Tigers, though as well as numerous TVRs and Corvettes. We decided to move on to Arnage, getting some video of the Tigers at Indianapolis, where we had had so much fun the day before. It was soon clear where the Hunaudières crowd had gone; Indianapolis was heaving, with stop-start walking pace traffic throughout, so that idea got scratched, although the Tigers did attract a fair bit of favourable comment (from "Ooh a Tiger", "Ooh another one", "Ooh another one" to "Bloody Hell, what you got in there mate?"). I'd like to take this opportunity to thank the gentleman who was handing out refreshments in the traffic jam.

In the centre of Arnage, there was another crowd of Brits, dancing in the fountain and trying to organise burnouts down the high street, so it probably won't be long before the police presence extends from Hunaudières. Nevertheless there was one chap in a Caterham who eclipsed everyone with his burnouts and spin turns. I thought the Tigers looked very well, parked up in the company of two Ferrari Modenas, a 355 and a Testarossa, but perhaps I'm biased. On the way back, Neil got sufficiently fed up with juddering brakes that he decided to fit a spare disc he just happened to be carrying, so we had a demonstration not only of slick service work, but also the ineffectiveness of the standard Tiger jack on soft ground. Even with a board under it we finished the job with three of us supporting the car as Neil put the wheel back on!

Having heard that one of the Radio Le Mans crew had recently bought an Alpine, we thought he might be interested in our Tigers, so we left a message at their office and parked the cars in echelon where they would be spotted on the campsite tour that evening. Here I was in trouble again, the state of my tailpipes having attracted criticism since the ferry, so it was out with the chrome polish and the predictable ribald remarks as I buffed my exhaust. It was worth it though, even if we only got a passing mention on the radio. Dinner in Arnage was disappointing this year, and not nearly as raucous, with the party splitting up later on, some for an early night and some for the "Portes du Circuit".

I was glad of my early night as I left a snoring camp site on Saturday morning to watch the support race at 10am. This was the Ferrari-Maserati challenge, scheduled for ten laps or 45 minutes and involving fifty or sixty classic sports racers. The parade lap was initiated with a real Le Mans start, with the drivers running to the cars, in echelon all down the pit straight, starting up and then roaring off. If this was chaotic, one can only imagine the mayhem if it was the actual start of the race! After the rolling start, it was a thrilling race, nobody seeming to be concerned at the value of the cars, the commentator saying he couldn't bear to look as ten million quid's worth of Ferarri (two Daytonas) fought side by side through the Ford chicane, It was gripping stuff, with only minor damage, ending after nine laps with the first three cars (Daytona, 250LM and Dino) in sight of one another. This was then followed by a parade of historic Jaguars, led by both the Silk Cut cars.

On my way back to meet up with the others in the ACO reception area, I was just in time to encounter the cars from the support race making their way through the crowds to their paddock, giving the chance to see and hear them at very close range, and even pass the time of day with some of the drivers, A champagne lunch at the ACO is a tradition with the other Tiger crews, which we were happy to comply with but, being thoughtful fellows, we telephoned some of those who couldn't or wouldn't be with us so they could listen to the corks popping. This was an excellent start to the 24 hours and by 3pm everyone was settled in the grandstand for the build up to the race start at 4pm.

After some excitement when the DAMS Cadillac caught fire at Tertre Rouge and following the first pit stops, when David Brabham's Panoz led the Audis for several laps, it became clear that as expected the race was Audi's to lose, so most interest became focussed lower down the order where there was some close racing, although spectating at Le Mans is rarely dull, with four different classes competing this year, ensuring that there is almost always some sort of overtaking going on.

We had booked dinner at the ACO's trackside restaurant, which was a most enjoyable and relaxed affair, accompanied by the sight and sound of the cars along the pit straight. We then bar-hopped our way to Tertre Rouge, most people falling by the wayside by about 1am, but I had other plans: I had determined to try out some of the other vantage points around the circuit, and following last year's abortive attempt to do it by taxi, had stayed off the sauce so that I could drive myself. Consequently, at 2.30am, when I thought the traffic should have died down, I jumped in the Tiger and headed for Arnage and Indianapolis. After being directed into a field to park, I had to walk about 300yds to the entrance to the viewing area where I could at last make use of the "Enceinte Generale" ticket I have dutifully bought for the past five years. The area stretches all the way from Arnage to the turn-in for Indianapolis and provides some spectacular vantage points very close to the track. I was only there for about an hour but saw a couple of minor "offs" at Arnage and a lot of overtaking. On then to Mulsanne; the route I had recce'd in daylight had been closed off, so conversations with a Gendarme at a crossroads were necessary, and eventually after approaching him from three different directions I found the way. Again it was a bit of a hike from the car park to the viewing area, but you get a really good impression of how dark the circuit is out there. After another hour spent filming cars coming off the Mulsanne Straight and sorting themselves out round the tight right hander, I moved on again, this time back to the Porsche Curves to see one of the higher speed sections. Again I was not disappointed, but the sight of dawn breaking prompted me to return to my bed, albeit only briefly.

Having broken camp and moved the cars up to Tertre Rouge in readiness for a quick getaway, we returned to the circuit for lunch, ending up in the grandstand for the finish. It is difficult to explain where the time goes during the 24 Hours, it never seems to get boring and time just flies past. So, 3.55 on Sunday and its Audi one two and three, despite two of them having complete gearbox and rear suspension changes, one of them I believe not even losing a lap in the process, with the Pescarolo Courage team a creditable fourth. Everyone cheered as the "finishers" emerged from the pits for the final lap, prior to a formation finish at 4pm on the dot. Normally we would have been rushing to the cars to beat the traffic, but more entertainment was provided with several drivers indulging in spectacular burnouts, much to the irritation of the marshals who were trying to shepherd them into the pits.

Then it was a brisk 1½ mile walk back to the cars (surely it would have been quicker to have left them at the campsite) and into the traffic to get to Caen. This time we really redefined "hot"; at one point my temperature gauge was reading 250°F (my physics said it should have boiled, but we got away with it) this led to much discussion that evening about how many Kenlowes I should fit, or would a Flexifan be better. Anyhow, the Tigers attracted a lot of attention from the locals on the way north (much more satisfying than when I made the same trip in my Impreza) and even welcome showers of water from the Penny Black party (friends of Neil) in Beaumont. I do hope that the Tiger we passed in Alençon found some assistance, but we were on a very tight schedule and did not have a spare water pump between us.