Having left the beloved Porker (Porsche 911), or Baz as I call it (it’s a long story I won’t go into it here) standing over Christmas, I was not surprised to find the battery had given up the ghost. No surprise really as Baz had been ill for a while and had been showing all the symptoms of a sticky demise. Little did I know at this point that bringing a Porsche 911 Mk1 996 back to life would be such a struggle. The design boffins at Porsche, in a bid to make their trusty steeds as impregnable as Fort Knox, helpfully designed both the bonnet and tailgate switches around the central locking system. Thus, no power, no access. This provided a bit of an issue for my forthcoming surgery. With the battery under the bonnet and the charging points under the boot, how was I to revive my poorly porker?
Cue forums. A raft of helpful and not so helpful advice here. Trawling the posts brought solution after solution, ranging from the seemingly straight forward, to those requiring a degree in quantum physics to work out. If my surgery was to be a success I decided that I would need to approach a consultant. Having Nick Fulljames number in your address book can be quite handy when it comes to all things Porsche. He specialises in rebuilding classic air cooled engines, but also is a font of knowledge for all things Porsche. Following a quick call Nick imparted the knowledge required for the surgery to begin, and was my crash trolley in the event of an emergency. Assisted by my trusty theatre nurse Si, we began to trace the latch cables. Access to the front airdam was restricted as I had helpfully parked as close to the wall as humanly possible, so our efforts went to the rear nearside light cluster. Gently lifting the light cluster with my surgical grade fingers, I shone a torch through the gap to find the most wondrous of sights, a spangly bright cable. Fishing through my wardrobe then produced a wire coat hanger which was fashioned to excavate the cable via the incision I had made. Having removed enough to clamp, fingers crossed we looked each other in the eye, and then, with us both gurning and squinting I pulled the cable. Silence ensued for what seemed an eternity, and then the most joyous of clicks…..and the boot was open.
There was no time to waste, we had Si’s Z4 as a willing donor. On went the leads, the donor powered up…..stand clear…….nothing, try again, stand clear….nothing. Vital signs were low, but they were there. Then, without warning, ALARM!!
The sheer decibels involved moved all in the vicinity into a state of slow motion. Frantic movements to silence the beast ensued, punctuated by burbled warped commands that fell quite literally on deaf ears. There was no alternative, I hit the button and called the crash cart!
Nick’s world seemed wholly more serene. I could hear his kids laughing in the background, surely they haven’t got a live link to our antic’s I thought? With calm abandon, Nick talked us down and our world returned to normal. Well save for the tinnitus like shrill boinging around our heads. Having tricked the car into thinking it wasn’t actually being stolen, we began the procedure again…stand clear…nothing,….stand clear, nothing. With our consultant on the phone he gave us the news we had so badly tried to avoid. The Battery was dead. Well, dead wasn’t the actual metaphor he used but you get the picture.
Having tricked the car into thinking it was locked by depressing the boot latch, we shot off to source a new implant. Returning sometime later, we tentatively began the surgery once more. Ignition on…check, battery on check, and then, finally, the archetypal crossing of fingers and gurn…check. Once again silence ensued as the day seemed to pass into night, and then…..it’s ALIVE!!!!
Gurn turned to smug, and we popped out for an hour for the beginning of Baz’s rehabilitation. It’s going to be a long old road, but as I write, Baz is alive and well, and firing on a glorious cacophony of 6 cylinders.
Thanks to Nick@redtek.co.uk