Harold Dvoretsky and Carol inspect the world’s coolest Mini. You can have one for $15,000!
Can any Mini be worth £3,650 stg. That is, £3,650 stg. In the U.K., ex-factory, as it were, and no taxes paid. To get that type of motor car into Australia would cost the best part of $15,000. Can ANY Mini be worth it?
Mike Nesmith, one of the American Monkee pop group, reckons it can. He recently made out a specification for Harold Radfords, the Royal bodybuilders (if you'll pardon the expression) and one of the few old time firm left anywhere that can--and do--still fabricate a car body to suit any potentate anywhere.
The result is the most expensive, and the quietest Mini ever made.
But, in fact, the cost hasn’t stopped yet. Nesmith, who took delivery in the U.K. in July, plans to install transmitting equipment in it, which will bring the cost to around £4,000 stg. basic.
Mike’s idea was a Mini with the best performance possible, coupled with luxury and silence. Radford achieved the result.
The Nesmith Mini can top 120 mph and get to 90 in 20 seconds, almost as quietly as the Rolls-Royce Silver Shadow I’ve been testing lately.
To do all this professionally requires a lot of labor, apart from some expensive extras. Some of the results could be obtained (albeit not too cheaply) by the rank, handy amateur if he felt so inclined.
The way Ranfords did it over a period of several months was this:
Sable coat
Meanwhile the body was re-built first into a Radford luxury Mini-de-Ville, then revamped to bring it up to Nesmith’s specifications.
The body was first repainted in sable with a gold fine line down the side. “Sable” turns out to be a dark, dirty muddy color which couldn’t be more unobtrusive if it tried.
A Webasto sunshine roof was installed, then two layers of special insulation material--compromising selentium and hardura--were applied to every conceivable part of the interior.
The inside of the car was trimmed in beige leather and matching West-of-England cloth. The carpet, the best in wool Wilton, was also in a matching tone.
Front seats are the new standard Radford type. They are fully reclining with head-rests which have been scientifically moulded to the driver and passengers’ requirements.
The rear seats--though not in use that much—-were also specially upholstered in leather for maximum comfort.
The windows throughout the car, with the exception of the from screen, are in double Shadowlite laminated glass, and the rear window is heated.
Mike may have to give up this foible, which is a bane for cameramen and fans trying to see in. New regulations in the U.S. may forbid it, too.
The screen itself is Sundym (trés expensive) laminated glass.
The front door windows have swiveling quarter-vents and the main windows are electronically operated by switches mounted between the front seats.
The doors are trimmed in matching leather and have armrests. The passenger front seat has a companion swiveling arm for convenience (a keep-away-from-me-woman type of thing).
The Mini isn’t exactly the best ventilated car in the world so Radfords, despite the Webasto roof, have also incorporated a flow-through ventilation system – air enters via a couple of frontal vents, and passes through extractor vents at the rear.
The bonnet is also modified for better ventilation of the power unit (and more about that later). The boot has an extra fuel tank with duplicated fuel lines and pumps. It is fully carpeted and has little room for luggage.
The dashboard is virtually Mike’s own idea, with help from Radfords’ design men. There’s a full set of instruments, including a Halda speed pilot (handy for Mike to keep up his average between studio and his three-acre joint up the road), and 25 independent switches “for every requirement”. There are warning lights to almost every switch and even a 707 captain might feel at home.
A warning light indicates whether or not Mike or his wife have closed respective doors.
To meet new U.S. regulations, Radfords have installed their own hazard warning system into the indicator warning lights and parking lights-quite a blaze should Mike ever break down.
The iodine vapor headlight and spotlight switches are fitted with Radfords’ “Everlites”. These clever little devices light up the tips of switch gear and remain “alight” for 10 years.
They use a Beta-light system of activated gases and, as my handout tells me, “exciting fluorescent materials continually”.
Twin reversing lamps operate via a special switch and two map-reading lights are mounted on either side of the car.
In the sound department this Nesmith Mini really has the special treatment. Apart from a highly developed and very expensive VHF radio, the stereo-tape playing system has been specially designed to feed through SIX speakers for real, wide and live stereophonic sound.
Housed strategically throughout the car, the speakers are controlled by a group of balancer switches so that the optimum of stereo and radio is available.
Radford’s name is inlaid into the veneer dashboard. Nice, old fashioned touch which probably cost only 10 nicker.
When I—and model Carol Lapthorn—saw the Mini before Mike took it over, Mike still had a few of his own gimmicks to add. Back in the States he will fit a special radio-telephone system which will not only open the gates of his three-acre estate, but do a countless number of other jobs.
Under the bonnet
Within a 20-mile radius of his homestead, Mike will be able to press a button (for his wife Phyllis presumably, or the family cook and chief bottle washer) and have the stove turned on to cook a late meal.
If he wants his dog to meet him at the gate, he will just flick another switch and the dog’s kennel with open.
Now that, I reckon, is something.
So much for the bodywork. While all this was going on to refurbish the body, the engine had been taken down to Radford’s own specialists and stripped to the last nut and bolt.
Every part was then electronically balanced. On went a specially flowed cylinder head, and the intake and exhaust manifolds were designed to get the optimum breathing.
In went a special high-fit camshaft aimed at providing the maximum performance with flexibility.
These little mods, which must have really cost a packet, give the 1275 more than 100bhp; it can rev on happily to around 7,000 rpm. Torque figures are interesting: 80 ft. lb. in the 3,000/6,000 rpm range, peaking around 90 ft. lb. at 5,000 rpm.
A set of close ratio gears was installed, with a final drive ratio of 3.7 to 1.
Maximum speed wasn’t the primary consideration, though 110/120mph I would think should be adequate. Rapid acceleration is was Mike was after and that is what he got. To 90 mph the Nesmith Mini will leave most dead—despite a weight penalty of 150 lb.
Zero to 60 mph comes up in 7.0sec. with back-stabbing efficiency. Eighty mph takes about 14.5sec., and 90 around 20sec.
Noise level is way, way down. The fan, one of the noisiest of Mini components, was replaced with a thermostatically controlled electric fan.
The cooling system was altered to include a sealed system. In the oil department a cooler is thermostatically controlled.
The exhaust system, while fully gas-flowed, contains additional expansion chambers down the length of the car, ending in a fully gas-flowed exhaust box with a 2½in. exhaust pipe complete with diffuser. You CAN, it seems, quieten the hottest of Minis if you have enough dough.
With its pink champagne color interior, sponge-covered aluminium steering wheel, and lightweight magnesium alloy 5in. base, 10in. diameter wheels, the car is (to quote my office staff) a tart-trapper extraordinary. I wondered what my delightful model (provided by Radford’s PR outfit) would think of it.
A mini-skirted (she changed to bloomers when we photographed the Mini) Carol oohed and aahed about the car and even the sight of my test 1967 Silver Shadow failed to impress.
But after a run in the Mini, Carol stepped beside me into the luxury of the Royce. I took her back home to Kensington. As we passed the Royal Garden Hotel where Mike and Phyllis were put up with the rest of the Monkees around midnight that night, the sight of all those oohing and aahing teenagers obviously reminded her of Mike’s Mini.
“You know,” she said, with 19 years of wisdom behind her, “I wouldn’t want that Mini.” Then, after a short, well-timed pause, she looked over at me and almost purred: “You know, a Rolls-Royce DOES something for a girl.”
Modern Motor, September 1967
First they took a standard 1275 Mini-Cooper S and stripped it down to the metal. The engine and transmission units went off to another workshop for their detail work.
Registered in Australia for transmission as a periodical