Dashboard disassembly

Well, it took almost a whole day to disassemble the dashboard - now all that is left are the main electric harnesses, and the heating.



The dashboard is a fixed metal part of the chassis, and it is quite difficult to remove all the elements from within this framework. This is luckily counteracted by the overall simplicity of the car.

It was difficult to reach in everywhere to loosen the delicate chrome and wood panels, but by far the most difficult was to get in there and remove the instrument cluster. Most modern cars have simple electrical plugs that connect to the instrumentation, but in this case, several metal and copper pipes that physically convey water temperature and oil pressure had to be carefully loosened. The instrument cluster has the look and feel of a very old, delicate science instrument at the back, and you have to contort your arms and body into ridiculous positions to be able access the back of the cluster whilst still in position. I only found out later that I actually only had to loosen the one large retaining screw, as well as the main electrical plug, and that I could then pull the whole cluster out far enough in order to loosen the rest from the front

Interestingly enough, I had to physically remove the temperature gauge module from the instrument cluster, as it is connected to the engine with a single-piece metal pipe that cannot disconnect from the gauge itself (visible in the image above, wrapped in plastic for protection). But I fear for the day when I have to put the instrument cluster back together again!

I'm sure that the damaged soft vinyl covering of the dashboard could be repaired, but I'm just going to use the one from the other car, still in great condition. The wood, however, will be carefully re-finished.

Project plan

Car restoration projects can easily become half-hearted, years-long affairs - some sad hulk of metal sitting in a back yard rusting away. Well not this project! I want to have the bulk of the work done in this year, which means I have about 6 months to accomplish this in. The goal of the project is to end up with an all-original, near-perfect car. The raw material is thus:

• My badly rusted but mechanically excellent 220b, currently registered in my name
  
• The newly acquired "donor car", a badly weatherbeaten but 100% original and complete, practically-rust-free 220Sb, which I legally bought, but for which there are no ownership papers available anywhere (which may turn into a bit of an administrative headache)

The plan is to use the donor car's complete body and chassis, and to completely restore its interior (to do this, I have to figure out how to sort out the ownership papers situation before having to resort to more "creative" methods). Even though this will sentimentally hurt, I will thus only use the mechanical components from my original 220b, and correctly upgrade my excellent engine to 220Sb specification. I think the following will thus be a sensible approach to the project:

1. Completely disassemble the 220Sb, starting with the interior.
2. While starting to work on the wood and leather, get a quote to completely repaint and rust-treat the disassembled body.
3. In the meantime, work week-ends on restoring the wood
4. After the wood is done (after months of sweat and toil), work week-ends restoring the leather
5. Once an acceptable quote is received, completely disassemble the rest of the car (with the help of Attie for the major mechanical components). This should be considerably less fiddly than disassembling the interiour.
6. Send the car for painting
7. While the car is being painted, start disassembling the mechanicals from the 220b, and upgrade the engine to 220Sb spec by transplanting the carburettors and intake manifold.
8. When the car has been painted, assembly minimum required interiour components (i.e. driver's seat, steering wheel, basic electrics and windows) and then focus on the mechanical aspects of the car - suspension, engine and gearbox.
9. Assemble and complete all electrics, lights, heating and ventilation, etc
10. Assemble restored interior

Time will tell whether this is ambitious for a 6-month project, but that is our goal... We are attentive to any suggested plan changes based on past experience.

The Leather Dilemma

I was under the impression that the cars that came out with real leather interior (versus the "MB Tex" vinyl) had seats with perforated panels, like the more modern Mercedes cars. This car, however, has a real blue leather interior that uses solid panels. It is, however, the original interior, and research has led me to believe that other people have seen this configuration as well.

This is the donor car before disassembly:


The seats (made of the most incredibly-thick blue leather) only show typical wear. The leather is not torn or punctured anywhere, but there are two challenges:

• In places (such as the top of the rear seat) the leather has completely hardened from the sun, like carboard.
• The stitching that holds the panels together is completely brittle, and breaks even if you sit on it.

A local leather trimmer said that he "can't restore the seats, but he has some great imitation-leather to sell me" but from what I've seen that other people have restored, I am adamant that it can be done, and, furthermore, that we will do this ourselves (what's life without a challenge).

With careful disassembly, softening (re-humidifying) of the leather (likely using instructions I found in a very informative document produced for the Australian museum society), and hand-stitching them through the original stitching holes, I believe we will turn this interior into a beautiful one, without losing the charm of the original materials. This will be done after we refinish the wood, and I will document this in detail (hopefully helping somebody going through the same dilemma).

Build Quality

We have started to disassemble the interior of the car. I know this is a clichéd statement, but in doing this, I have realised again that the quality and attention to detail with which these cars have been put together is astounding. I have dis/assembled many cars in my life, and I have not once ever seen anything like the indestructible quality and thoughtfulness with which the components of these cars are put together.

This is an era which we will never re-live (not even a modern Bentley or a Rolls-Royce even approaches this quality) and when you consider the plasticised rubbish we have to put up with today ("better (i.e. more so-called features), faster, cheaper") it is such a gift to be able to see how it was done in the 1950s and 1960s.

My 1989 560SEC coupe, considered to be one of the best-built and most desirable "modern" Benz's before the downfall (the Daimler-Chrysler era of the 1990s and beyond) does not come close to this. It may be somewhat more refined and feature-rich (like the Starship Enterprise...), but it is not built like a W111.

I could ramble about the solid wood (not veneer or simulated wood) surrounds of all the windows (carefully inlaid and curved), the incredibly thick and plush leather, the carpeting that is thicker than that in my house, etc, but let me illustrate my point with one simple example: The corner air-vents.



Apart from being constructed from solid, polished cast metal (it really is quite heavy) they are fixed to the dashboard not using glue, plastic clips, screws or even bolts (even the latter two are unheard-of in most modern cars) but instead each has its own mechanism consisting a bracket and a spring to gently but firmly pull the vent to the dashboard from the rear, thereby not damaging the dashboard wood, making removal of the vent pipe easy, and for other reasons beyond me (since this is not a moving part).

This attention to detail is evident everywhere - and if they went to these lengths with something as silly as a dashboard vent, the mechanical excellence of these cars are self-evident. It was worth buying this donor car just for the pleasure of taking it apart!

(Handy tip: Buy a box of large-size Zip-Loc bags, and clearly label a bag for each significant set of parts. You don't want to throw the million-and-one interior parts into one big communal box, unless you want to do some serious treasure-hunting at re-assembly time)

Donor Car

My good friend and über-mercedes-mechanic Attie (from SDA Motors) has sold me the perfect donor car in order for us to start this restoration in earnest. While my 220b's body is very rusted, this car is weatherbeaten, but appears virtually rust-free, absolutely 100% complete (including every last interiour detail), and, best of all, it has never been laid a hand on. It has never been resprayed, it has never been disassembled. A fresh source of every part I could need, including a gorgeous complete interior just waiting for restoration. It still has engine and gearbox, but my current car's is likely to be far superior in lieu of all the time and money spent on it mechanically over the years.



For 45+ years of age, everything still looks remarkably well - the edges and door seams are still perfectly straight, and clicks shut like clockwork.



The only "problem" is that this is a model 220Sb, the more luxuriously-trimmed brother of my (rarer) 220b. The biggest difference lies in the more elaborate chrome and taillights (nicely explained by Martin's Heckflosse site) and I will have to decide on whether I want to keep the end-result a standard 220 (which will take some effort), or, if I use the donor car as the basis of this project, upgrade my current engine to "S" spec with the bigger Solex carburettors, etc.

Either way, the next step is the complete disassembly of the donor car, starting with the interior trim (which will likely be the most time-consuming to restore).

Start of Project

Here she is: Blue Max - a pretty 1963 Mercedez-Benz "Fintail" model 220b (W111). I purchased the car in 2002 from a gentlemen who spent a great deal of money to semi-restore it to this state. I think he spent more on the engine than the actual complete worth of the car, and she drives beautifully. This car has never let me down, and I have had some great times with it (this was taken at God's Window in 2003).



This pretty car has several problems though:

• Though it doesn't look it (because of the fresh paint job done before I bought it) the car has a serious rust problem. Very serious. It spent part of its life in the hot, humid, salty Natal province.
• The pretty metallic pearl blue colour is not original, as metallic colours were only available upon request for the very expensive 300SE (W112) model.
• The interior heating never worked, the side vents are missing, so in my youthful ignorance I discreetly installed a very high-fidelity Infinity Kappa audio system, e.g. with the tweeters where the small side vents should be. In retrospect, ugh.
  
• My dear colleague and Managing Director decided to "reshape" the right rear door with his 280SE Mercedes, and it's so rusted it is not repairable (must be replaced).

I have been putting this off for a few years, but the time has come (and my wonderful girlfriend, "J", has committed to help me) to put things right. We shall embark on the project to build a perfect, original W111 once again. And we'll do most of it ourselves.