Despite being voted Wheels' 'Car of the Year', less than 18 months after the P76's launch Leyland's Australian manufacturing operation had virtually closed; Prime Minister Mr Whitlam was calling the P76 "a dud" and another minister, Bill Hayden, dubbed it "a lemon". The public generated another name, the 'P38', only half the car Leyland intended it to be. Yet the P76 has retained a loyal band of enthusiasts: self-styled 'P-nutz' view it as the first real Australian-designed family car; a victim of circumstance. Who is right?
In the late 1960s the Australian arm of (by now) British Leyland gained approval to design two cars specifically for the local market. One was a medium-sized vehicle - soon cancelled with the arrival of the Marina - and the other a competitor for the Holden, Falcon and Valiant, with both six-cylinder and V8 engines.
Noted Italian designer Michelotti was contracted to do the styling. On the mechanical side, the merger with Leyland had given the local company access to the ex-GM all-aluminium 3.5-litre Rover V8 engine. In conjunction with Rover the Australian company developed a 4.4-litre version, intended for use in the P76 and in a Rover model that never reached production. Six-cylinder power was to come from a stroked version of the ohc 2.2-litre cast iron motor used in the earlier Austin Tasman/Kimberley. The six and the V8 weighed about the same, allowing Leyland to avoid expensive engineering changes to accommodate the larger engine. Leyland also kept down tooling costs by incorporating parts that were already used by other Australian car makers.
Extensive initial prototype testing was done with P76 mechanicals grafted into Holden bodyshells. One of the final prototypes was sent to the UK for testing at the MIRA track.
'Anything but average', the advertising boasted on the P76 release in
1973. And, on paper and on the road, it was. None of the others could offer
an all-alloy V8 engine, strut front suspension, such a roomy interior and
huge boot.
All P76s came with disc front brakes as standard, stealing a march on its rivals. Windscreen wipers hid behind the rear of the bonnet. Other items of standard equipment included side impact barriers in the doors (years before they became mandatory), hazard warning lights, a collapsible fascia panel and a boot that could be opened without using a key. Trim improved in the usual steps to the Executive, which came with the V8 as standard, a radio and power aerial, cloth-covered seats, carpeted boot and radial-ply tyres.
In mid-1974 Leyland introduced the Targa Florio, a specially optioned model to celebrate a win by the P76 in the Targa Florio stage of the 17,000km London-Sahara-Munich 1974 World Cup Rally. The Targa Florio had the V8 as standard, a limited-slip differential and trim at the Super level, including reclining bucket seats, laminated windscreen, alloy wheels and a power aerial for the two-speaker radio, plus bold silver side stripes and Targa Florio decals on the boot. Most Targas were produced in Omega Navy, but a small number appeared in Nutmeg and Aspen Green.
A Mark 2 version of the sedan, a station wagon and the fascinating Force 7 coup were all stillborn. The Force 7 was a two-door hatchback with a fold-down rear seat, almost identical in size to the sedan and with the same engine and transmission options, although the only common exterior panel was the windscreen. A sporty Force 7V was to have been the top model.
Fifty-six Force 7Vs were made as pre-production cars. It was so close to full manufacture that Leyland had already printed instruction books (see last month's Lucky Dip feature) and made a large number of special Force 7V steering wheels. Most of the Force 7s were crushed after the Leyland closure, but a handful passed into private ownership.
In just over a year close to 18,000 P76s rolled down the line
in Leyland's Sydney factory. About 10,000 were V8s. Around 7900 cars were
in Deluxe trim, 7400 were Supers, and about 2000 were Executives. The number
of Targa Florios produced is debatable, ranging from 300 to 800, although
500 seems to be a fair guess.
In a test of the V8-engined Super and Executive models in November 1973, Wheels thought the performance to be 'excellent'. Wheels also had no doubt 'that the P76 is ahead of its rivals on fuel consumption'. Handling was very good overall, but the power steering lacked feel. Finish and panel fit came in for some criticism but overall, Wheels considered that 'the P76 stands as a serious competitor - the two-pedal V8's excellent performance and economy reinforces that fact'.
One reason is there for all to see - its unconventional styling. Many prospective buyers balked at the rear-end styling, with its huge boot and 'big hips' look.
And then there was that Leyland bugbear of the seventies - quality control. Water leaks and assembly problems were common; the bugs irritated new owners and the word soon spread.
There were also breakdowns on the production lines at critical times, and a strike at outside suppliers that left otherwise completed cars unsaleable because of a lack of small parts like windscreen wipers and hub caps. Leyland's production planners also badly underestimated demand for the V8. On the marketing side, the oil crisis of the early seventies had turned buyers' thoughts towards smaller cars.
A 1974 report by the Industries Assistance Commission suggested that there was not room in the Australian automobile market for four manufacturers. Leyland, as the smallest and most vulnerable, was the obvious loser. Buyer confidence in Leyland sagged.
Leyland's British parent was also in severe financial difficulties and looking to cut expenditure. With total losses on the Australian operations reportedly as high as $56 million, Leyland Australia came under close scrutiny.
The British company dispatched David Abell, a 31-year-old 'whiz kid' to take over as managing director. Abell shut down all Australian manufacture bar the Mini and the Moke. The main factory site was sold off and the Australian Government bought much of the excess stock of cars for its own use.
The P76 was dead. It was immediately dubbed as the car that killed
Leyland, but Leyland Australia was a victim of a combination of circumstances
and would probably have died sooner rather than later, P76 or no P76.
Joe bought his first P76 as a near-new car from a friend who had been panicked by the Leyland closure. The car went into use as the family hack, in which service it proved very reliable. When the time eventually came for some major work Joe joined the local P76 club and as he says: "It all just sort of snowballed from there!
"The best feature of the P76 and the Force 7V is the way they drive. They handle well and are really comfortable. The mechanicals were way ahead of their time, but they are still very easy to work on. The body's wedge shape is very fashionable these days. Strangely, many people now don't know what they are, and are really interested to hear the story behind the car."
Six-cylinder P76s are something of a rarity as most cars have had a V8 transplant - an easy conversion. Geoff Thomas, however, has remained true to the smaller engine. Back in 1977 Geoff was looking for a replacement for his Austin Tasman. "I wanted a family-sized car but the second-hand Holdens, Falcons and Valiants were too expensive. I could get a P76 for about half the price of the others. The P76 was better equipped, better handling, with better brakes, and more comfortable into the bargain," Geoff recalls. "I bought a six because I thought that it would be more economical than the V8. As it turns out, there's not much difference in the economy. The six is powerful enough for most tasks, anyway. It's pulled my wife, three kids and a boot full of luggage back and forth between Canberra and Melbourne countless times over the years."
Geoff ran up over 350,000km on the car before retiring it a few years ago for restoration. "I've had the engine completely overhauled and intend to have the car resprayed in the next year or so," he says.
The cars in detail
For P76 fanciers, membership of a P76 club is almost essential for knowledge, spares sources, and lists of parts interchangeability with other makes. Some parts are also being remanufactured at clubs' instigation.
It is vital that the cooling system on the aluminium motor is correctly maintained with corrosion inhibitor. As with the six, overheating and vapour locks are not unusual. The current solution is to use the larger radiator from the VN Commodore, that will fit with only minor changes. An easily fitted electric fuel pump or rerouting the fuel lines will deal with fuel vaporisation problems.
One particular point to check is the steering lock assembly. The original parts were faulty and can lock the steering on the move! Replacement units were available as a recall item but many cars did not have the new locks fitted. Clubs can provide identification details and the method of disabling the old-style locks.
Interior trim was in good quality material but may be showing the ravages of time. The Automotive Boutique in Granville, NSW, can supply a large range of retrim items to original specifications including seats, door trims, dashboards and headlinings. Replacement rubber seals are also available from specialists.
The P76 seems to be to be rising like America's Edsel to a position of renewed respect in the classic motoring scene; its virtues of strong performance, good handling and distinctive styling are now much more appreciated. Good P76s (hard to come by after years of ridicule and abuse) are in demand and values are increasing. It has taken over 20 years, but perhaps justice is about to be done for one of motoring's more unfairly maligned vehicles.
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