Vintage View: Irish classic and vintage car owners share their stories

We reveal the agony and the ecstasy of devoting time and money to that first vintage car

1. David Fitzgerald, Dublin with his son, and the 1976 Mini Cooper he has owned since he was 15 years old, now in racing stripes

Beautiful burbles, cheap tax, blackened fingernails and understanding spouses. In an age where the combustion engine is regarded as an insufferable misfire, we talk to some classic and vintage car owners about the vehicular love of their lives. 

What would they tell someone setting out to buy?

Ending up with multiple vintage cars is a natural evolution from owning the first. Trevor Mitchell has seen it all before.

Buy just one car and down the road, you might end up with a motor museum, kilgarvanmotormuseum.ie

“Make sure you have storage space for at least eight cars. Let me explain. When you buy a vintage or classic car and start to use it, you will discover one of two problems,” he says.

“First, the car is very well restored and is trouble-free but you are bored and want to work on something. So, you buy a project car. Alternatively, the first car is not as good as you thought, and you think you can do better. So, you buy a project car. Now the project will need spares.

“So, you search for a donor car and along the way you find another project, a completely different make to first car. So, that is project number two.”

“Do you see where this is going now? While taking parts of the donor car for project number one you realise the donor is not too bad and can be restored, so that is project number three. Another donor is now required. And, so it goes on. That’s what happened here with my dad 45 years ago, and now he has over 30 restored cars and more in waiting, and we have the Kilgarvan Motor Museum.”

Dublin owner David Fitzgerald owns a race-ready 1976 Mini Cooper. “I bought my Mini when I was 15 years old for £50. It underwent its first restoration very slowly while I was between 18 and 22,” he says. 

“I got it to a decent standard, but had a huge amount to learn. I worked part-time in engine reconditioning, building engines for motor-sport for two summers, one year part-time in body repairs, traditional panel-beating and took an evening course in welding. I’ve never owned a garage.”

This is far from ideal as most classics’ worst enemy is rust, given the Irish climate. “I do use covers in the winter but without the right cover, you can do more damage than not using one at all. I’m currently looking at building a carport,” he adds.

Abner Brown thoroughly enjoying his 1977 Triumph Spitfire. "When it goes well, you’ll smile the whole journey."

“I’ve already spent more than double what the car could ever be worth and that’s with literally hundreds of hours doing the labour myself, leaving aside the cost of all the tools. I hate to say it, but unless you have lots of time and dedication on your hands, you’re going to need a nice fat wallet.

“Of course, it also depends on the make of the model you decide to go with and how readily parts are available for it.

“Brexit has had a massive effect on British car parts. Previously you didn’t have to think much about purchasing a box load of bits. Now, it’s a very different story.

Barry Patrick's rare 1977 steel-slider-sunroof VW Beetle as found in Tracey, California, and fully restored today.

“For anyone who is not at least ‘a little handy’, it can be overwhelming given the amount of both smaller and bigger issues that you inevitably encounter. Even at the best of times, there is always a list of 5-10 jobs to be done to both maintain the car and also keep it at a certain standard.”

Barry Patrick imported his 1970 VW Beetle from Tracey in California in the United States to his home in Dunboyne, Co. Meath. There was method in what seemed like madness. “I would suggest considering a car from somewhere dry and sunny. Fifty-year-old cars can be good as new rather than falling apart with rust,” he says.

“This VW is a rare steel slider sunroof model and still wears its original factory paint (a little faded on the roof). It hasn’t got a spot of rust anywhere. It cost me less to both buy it and ship it to Ireland, than what people are asking for rusty old sheds here. The money saved on bodywork was put into repairs for the 2.3 litre engine, so I’ve now got 160hp instead of the standard 45hp it originally came with (stored).”

A relative newcomer to the vintage car scene, Anthony Scott lives in Swords. His decision to go vintage, accelerated change in his already busy life. “The car is a TVR S3C — 30 years old — less than 2000 made, hand-built in Blackpool,” he says. “I’m a long-time TVR fan. Big-engined, lightweight, loud, hand-built British sports cars are a rare sight in Ireland. Road taxes killed that. 

A strange thing happens when a car reaches 30 years old. Road tax drops to €56/year, import is just €200. 

"I did copious amounts of research, joined the car club and spoke to the regional organiser about cars. I used Facebook and put out feelers for people selling, then I saw an ad for one in Larne.

“Buying a car in lockdown is strange and the car was not 30 until November. In August 2020 I went to Belfast for a weekend, and I instantly fell in love when the car was started. It had a lovely burble.”

Anthony Scott and his 30-year-old vintage TVR S3C following his post-graduate celebration. “In 2020 I went to Belfast for a weekend. I instantly fell in love when the car was started. It had a lovely burble.”

Six months later, after organising a few events, Anthony was asked to run the TVR car club. “Since then we’ve been to Waterford, Galway, Mayo, and Cork. Hand-built means everything — bolts on or off, so it’s actually easy to work on, and the internet has a wealth of information for beginners to get going, changing UJs, manifolds, engine mounts, cats, expansion tanks,” he says.

“The biggest thing about owning one of these is the attention it gets. Roof down — invariably someone will start talking to you saying they love TVRs, and the TVR community is fantastic.”

Somewhere in Rathdrum, County Wicklow, is a garage, and buried beneath piles of family detritus is the 1948 Alvin of car lover and devoted dad Paul Ryan. He describes it as his poor, tragic, neglected treasure. “I wish I’d known my wife was lying when she said that if I agreed to have kids, she’d do the majority of the parenting. The Alvin’s been under a cover in that shed since my first kid came home from the hospital 10 years ago!”

The 1948 Alvin of car lover and dad, Paul Ryan. Of his 'tragic, neglected treasure', Paul said: "I wish I'd known my wife was lying when she said that if I agreed to have kids, she'd do the majority of the parenting. The Alvin's been under a cover in that shed since my first kid came home from the hospital 10 years ago."

Paul, like many owners has had to face the family-first reality of car ownership, backed up by Abner Brown who lives in Dublin, with similar twin passions including a 1977 Triumph Spitfire.

“My advice to newbies is to ensure you have an understanding wife/husband, together with a bottomless pit of money. Never expect to get to that destination without breaking down. Still, when it goes well, you’ll smile the whole journey,” he says.