The Oily Rag - British Saloon Car Club

Under the sign, I could make out what appeared to be the top ropes and corner posts of a boxing ring, with a tall man
in the centre of it, visible above the crowd. That was Jem!
I made my way past stands of TVR, Lotus and
Mercedes, practically devoid of onlookers and
circled to come in around the back of the Marcos
stand. As I approached the boxing ring, I
realized that it was the diminutive Mini Marcos in
its bright red livery and silver Minilight wheels
that had captured the attention of all of these
people. It was not the pretty and nimble Marcos
Martina in Old English White or its brutal big
brother, V8 Marcos Mantula in light blue metallic
paint, or for that matter, the delicious offerings
on the neighbouring stands, but this gallant little
warrior, a victor of so many earlier battles,
brought to life once again.
Soon, I was able to meet Jem and introduce
myself. He was a dashing and most gracious
man, a true gentleman. It was a thrill to meet
him in person. Jem was truly overwhelmed by the
response of the crowd toward the Mini Marcos. I asked him why he thought it was that there was such keen interest,
when it would seem entirely logical the greatest interest would be in the more exotic offerings, like the Mantula or
those immediately beside and across the aisle. Simply put, he thought that it was because of the car's affordability
and that given the public response, he should have done this earlier!
I enjoyed my time with him and he had made arrangements for me to go out to the Marcos Works in Wiltshire to meet
his son Chris and test the cars. The Marcos Works is housed in an array of large quonset huts on what was a second
war airbase in Westbury in the west country. There, I was greeted by Chris and treated to a tour of the works. The
main reception showroom was packed with Mantulas and photographs of Marcos cars and drivers and their racing
exploits. It was breathtaking. Chris, himself was currently leading the British Sports Car Championship in a Mantula.
In the centre of the showroom was the only Mini Marcos. It wasn't new. It was a 1960s version that they had bought
back from a club member, having not even kept a copy for themselves and having only yet produced the Earl's Court
Show car. I couldn't believe its diminutive size. We opened the doors and eased into the low seats with Chris behind
the wheel. I was immediately impressed with the car and with its handling as Chris negotiated the trading estate
roads (runways) out into the countryside. Despite this being powered by an 850, progress was brisk, handling precise
and crisp and all things considered quite comfortable. It wasn't hard to accept that in 1966, a Mini Marcos powered
by a rally-spec 1275 had seized the record for speed in the under 1300 hundred class on the Mulsanne straight at Le
Mans at over 147 mph (that record stands to this date). Back at the Works, we traded the Mini for a Mantula. All I
can say is WOW! But that's another story. It didn't take long to scribble out the deposit cheque and place the order
for an exact copy of the Earl's Court car, less engine and in “knock-down” form in order to satisfy our government
officials.
Back in Canada, the car was assembled at Commonwealth Motors with a very nice 998 engine and prepared for its
maiden trip. On June 11th, 1992 the car was completed and declared fit for the trip. There was no time for run-in or
shake down because on the 12th, the little Marcos with my son Craig and I aboard set out for the “British Car
Magazine” offices in Los Angeles and a day in the California hills with publisher, Dave Destler. That photo session and
test drive resulted in a feature magazine article.
Imagine a six-thousand mile trip over ten days that included two days in LA, driving on the Bonneville Salt Flats, a
climb up Pikes Peak and hundreds of other great experiences in a car made of fibreglass, weighing only 900 lbs, built
in a Quonset hut in Wiltshire and assembled in Oshawa, Ontario. And this was only the first of many adventures.