Yesterday evening Robb Pryor stopped by to say hello and to check out
the snake. After chatting a bit (he's in the middle of restoring one of
his two big Healeys and trying to get the other one back on the road) I
suggested going for a ride. Some of you may recall that I have a gas
leak and have to keep the tank nearly empty to avoid filling the garage
with explosive fumes. As we were getting ready to leave I mentioned
this to Robb and explained to him that the gas gauge registered empty
when the level was anything below about 1/8th of a tank. But not to
worry 'cuz I had a sure-fire back-up method of insuring there was gas in
the tank. This consisted of sticking a 2 foot+ length of wooden dowel
into the tank and noting how much of it got wet. No problemo. There
was a good 1 1/2", so we were confidently off. I made one circuit
around the block and got onto Lawrence Expressway for a run up to El
Camino and more extended jaunt. About 1/8 of mile before the El Camino
exit, the engine sputtered (very) briefly and stopped dead. Since we
were moving fairly well we managed to make it to the next side street
and to come to a stop at the curb, well out of traffic.
I tried to restart the engine but only got a couple of coughs, then
nothing. Sure seemed like fuel starvation, so I pop the fuel cap open
and stuck in the dowel; dry as a bone. Since there was a bit of a crown
to the street, I poked the dowel into the low corner of the tank; a good
inch there. Okay, otta gas, but the car wasn't really levels so I
wanted to make sure that was the problem. I unscrewed the cannister
that holds the gas filter. It was full to the brim and the filter look
clean as new. I poured a little gas from the cannister into the carb
and tried to start the engine. It ran for a second or two, then coughed
and stop again. That pretty much confirmed that it was a fuel rather
than an ignition problem, but was it because of the, more or less, empty
tank or a blockage somewhere? There was, after all, plenty of fuel in
the filter cannister.
Robb and I headed up the street towards El Camino and found a phone
booth within a block. I called my wife, told her where we were and
instructed her to bring the two gallon gas can I kept in the back yard
shed for the lawnmower. She arrived within 10 minutes and I got the can
out of the car and pour the gallon left in it into the tank of the
Cobra. I primed the carb again and tried to start the engine. It
caught right off but I couldn't keep it running long enough to get a
continuous supply of fuel going. Finally I decided I'd better get some
more gas. Probably a gallon wasn't enough to cover the outlet which was
on the higher side of the tank. I'd had a similar experience once
before.
Since there was a Shell station at the intersection of the street we
were on and El Camino, we all jumped into my wife's car and headed for
it. When we got there I asked the station attendant if I needed to pay
first or could I just pump. He shrugged towards the pumps so I started
filling the can. When the can was about half full the attendant walked
over and casually remarked that I was pumping diesel. Awk shit! Sure
enough. I hadn't bothered to look. Hardly any stations around here
even sell diesel. So I asked where I could pour the diesel out? I was
in a bit of a hurry. My wife was in the middle of cooking dinner; poor
Robb was supposed to be home in less than an hour. The attendant
informed me that he didn't have any place to get rid of the diesel. I
found this a little hard to believe, but it was his station and he could
run it any way he pleased. Finally he said that he would let me use his
container for $5. It was a 3 gallon plastic water jug with no cap. I
told he to forget it. Just let me pay for the diesel and I'd go find
another station. I'd decided I would drive back to the house, drop Robb
and my wife off, dump the diesel into a container I had and go to a
nearby station on my own. From there I would drive to where the Cobra
was parked and see if I could get it going. I could leave my wife's car
there until later but I didn't want to leave the Cobra unattended for
too long. Suddenly the attendant remembered that he had an empty gallon
coolant bottle I could pour the diesel into. After about 15 minutes of
screwing around we were on our way again. I poured most of the gas into
the tank and then a few ounces into the carburetor and gave it a try.
The engine started right up, hesitated momentarily but caught and ran
smoothly. We were back to the house within five minutes.
Even though it was getting late, Robb and I still managed to gab for
another 20 minutes or so. Finally Robb left around 7:25, leaving 5
minutes for his 20 minute drive home.
This weekend the tank COMES OUT!!
I thought that that was the end of the adventurous part of the evening
but not so. I'd just sat down to enjoy a bottle of Anchor Steam when
the phone rang. My daughter in a panic. She had locked herself out of
her car. So, off again. Dinner and beer had to wait a bit longer.
Roland
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