As antidote to his day job, Anthony Williams hits the shed to work mechanical magic on his European classics.
What’s your car crush? Old Falcons? Mazda rotaries? Classic Jaguars? We all have our ‘thing’ but Anthony Williams’ tastes are eclectic to the extreme. I’ve known Anthony through the racing scene for many years, and each time our paths cross he seems to be driving – or repairing – something different: usually European or some giant sedan I’d forgotten existed.
He calls himself a hobbyist mechanic, but this 31-year-old’s knowledge, expertise and track record reveals more than a little talent. He works real estate in Gladstone, but the unpredictability and stress of that job means he’s often finding calm and headspace with his head under a bonnet or temperamental gearbox. He sent me a message recently stating: “I have officially run out of garage space.”
The list? “There are three (Peugeot) 205s and a (Volvo) 740 in the shed; a (Volvo) 240 on the driveway and an Opel (Astra) in the garage. The (BMW 5 Series) E39 will be coming home shortly and I need to find space for a (Citroen) 2CV.” It’s like an automotive European Union in his shed – although no MGs or Minis, thanks to Brexit. “I’ve always been into cars since Hot Wheels were the main vehicles of choice,” he says.
“And my Dad was a massive car nut who always had something interesting. When I got my licence, I learnt rather quickly I’d have to fix them myself or pay other people. I didn’t like the idea of that, so I had to figure it out myself.” His first car was a Volvo 240, starting an enduring love affair with the model.
“I love the idea of it being a bit of an anti-car,” he explains. “It’s not particularly sporty or stylish as most teenagers would be lusting after. I liked to do some drifting in the early days, so it being rear wheel drive was a big thing.”
He mentions the Volvo had the driving dynamics of a wet sponge, but it was his introduction to simple mechanical work. He did oils and filters, then when things started breaking, he’d work out how to fix them. A move to Sweden accelerated his learning. He helped do a rotary engine swap, then lent a hand on an engineering project transplanting a Volvo 740’s turbo engine into the back of a 1980s Mexican VW Beetle.
“That was sufficiently weird,” Anthony says, “so I helped with minor fabrication and testing. I’ve got a lot of enthusiasm, and what I lack in aptitude I make up for with brute force!” Anthony reckons the Swedes are talented at car tuning and modifications as they have very little to do inside for six months of freezing and dark, so they jump into something mechanical.”
He was living with a friend who owned a street racing team, including running a 500hp Lancia Delta Integrale. “It needed rebuilding regularly due to it being Italian and fairly highly strung,” he says. His own Scandinavian cars included an Opel Senator and Peugeot 205 GTi, the latter starting an obsession with the hot hatch icon. “I did my first timing belt, water pump and clutch change on that 205 as I had access to a garage and tools,” he explains. “I had friends around if I cocked things up, which gave me confidence to dive into it and demystified a lot of things.” On his return to Australia, was he tempted to pursue a mechanical career with his new skills? “Not really,” he says.
“I know the idea of turning your hobby into a job sounds wonderful, but then you’re forced to do it for money, and that has no real appeal to me.” While real estate became his day job, his mechanical work continued apace. After almost exploding the V6 in his VS Commodore ute, he transplanted a GM L67 supercharged V6 in its place. “I bought the engine and engine crane and thought I’d figure it out,” he says.
“I needed a bit of help, but for the most part I had it in and running myself after doing the wiring loom, ECU change and all else associated with dropping in a new engine and gearbox. But it being a Holden it wasn’t exactly complicated – I wasn’t rebuilding an old Italian V12 or anything.” Next came a Mercedes-Benz W124 300E 24v, bought as it was the most powerful but, unfortunately, also the most complicated.
“As Anthony’s Slough-built 1987 Citroen 2CV Charleston is, believe it or not, about to be used as a hill climb race car in absolute factory-spec. Brave boy. much as I loved 7000rpm bouncing off the limiter, the engine didn’t enjoy this as much,” Anthony says.
He ultimately went through a stage of buying four or five cars a year – mainly cheap Europeans – fixing them up and selling them on for extra pocket money. BMW E39 5 Series sedans were his fixer-uppers of choice. “They have common faults like speed sensors, ABS modules and window regulators, but once you figure them out and fix them a few times it’s easy work,” he says.
“I also did an Audi A4 with the worst interior I’ve ever seen – it’d been smoked in since the day it was first sold. I had to rip out the interior, headlining, seats and carpet. By the time I fixed it, it felt nice and new.” Such varied skills mean Anthony’s comfortable and confident being up to his elbows in oily bits. “Cars are good therapy,” he says. “Being in the shed is my getaway.”
Alongside his collection of Peugeots is his recently acquired French snail – a Citroen 2CV. Incredibly, he plans to race this at an upcoming hill climb. “My goal is to beat someone; I don’t care who it is,” he laughs. “Its body roll can be described as biblical, but weirdly they handle quite well, are quite predictable and well balanced.” Racing a classic 2CV fits with Anthony’s belief of just giving things a go, no matter how hard.
“If a job seems too daunting, just figure out what needs doing, get the right tools and give it a crack. You’ll soon find out if you can or can’t do it, but at least you’ve tried.” Solid, sage advice.