Fluid Drive

Everybody knows that Fluid Drive was Chrysler Corporation's answer to Hydra-Matic, and that it goes "clunk" when it shifts. Everybody's half right. Indeed, Fluid Drive, introduced on Chrysler cars for 1939 and extended to DeSoto and Dodge in 1941, was Chrysler's weapon in the shiftless wars, arriving a year before Hydra-Matic and proving to be much more successful than the Reo Self Shifter and Lincoln's ill-fated Liquimatic. But Fluid Drive doesn't clunk - it doesn't even shift.

That's because Fluid Drive is simply a fluid flywheel, a concept employed by the British Daimler as early as 1933. As Chrysler explained it, a "driving wheel" attached to the engine is filled with a "special oil" (the fluid) which exerts force on a "runner wheel" that connects to the driveshaft ("Gyrol" refers to the "special oil;" the fluid couplings were developed in Germany). As the driver is spun faster and faster the runner turns with it, in a smooth application of power.

Instead of the repetitious routine of clutching and shifting a conventional car, one merely drops the Chrysler into high and steps on the gas. The result is a smooth getaway. Not just more convenient, it was safer, too - and easier on the car. This "cushion of power" was said to be trouble free - and thrilling. As thrilling, apparently, as driving a destroyer or a submarine. "Adopted in 1938" pertains to the 1939 model year, and the 1945 date on this brochure suggests that no innovation since 1915 was as noteworthy.

You note it says nothing about shifting. That's because Fluid Drive, in its basic form, is just the fluid flywheel and a standard clutch. When ordered on a Dodge, that's all you got. Drop it into third and go - smoothly but with destroyer-like acceleration. You did have to use the clutch, which Chrysler called a "Safety Clutch," to get into gear, but afterwards all your driving was with your right foot. On Chrysler and DeSoto, though, it could be coupled to a transmission that shifted itself. This was actuated with vacuum, called Vacamatic by Chrysler and Simplimatic in DeSoto. There were two gears in each of two ranges, and the shift was actuated by lifting the throttle and waiting for the clunk. You could get Fluid Drive without Vacamatic/Simplimatic, but not vice versa.

After World War II, a new hydraulically-shifted transmission was used, designated "M5" (Vacamatic and Simplimatic were apparently M4; I don't know what M1 to M3 were). Chrysler's was called "Prestomatic," DeSoto's "Tip-Toe Shift," but all else was the same. Interestingly, although "matic" was the industry-wide suffix for self-shifting, widely touted, Chrysler didn't announce it on their cars. There were no Vac/Simpli/Presto/TipToe emblems. The cars simply said "Fluid Drive," on Dodge's rear bumper, DeSoto's front fender and Chrysler's stop lamp. DeSoto also put it on the glove box.

But wait, there's more - only not right now. The story of Fluid Drive post-1948 will have to wait for another time.

The Queen of Spain

Queen Isabella I is best known for bankrolling Christopher Columbus in his quest to the New World. Less remembered is her role, with husband Ferdinand (Ferdinand II of Aragon, Ferdinand V of Castile - he wore two crowns), in instigating the Spanish Inquisition. Which one, we might wonder, was on Carl Borgward's mind when he introduced the Borgward Isabella in 1954?

Carl Friedrich Wilhelm Borgward was a manufacturer of small three-wheeled delivery vehicles he called "Goliath." In 1929, he bought Hansa-Lloyd-Werke, another automaker, and merged it into a new Borgward Group, building Hansa cars and Lloyd and Goliath trucks. During World War II its output was military vehicles.

Postwar production didn't resume until 1949, Borgward apparently having been interned and his factories destroyed. The first car was a slab-sided 1.5-liter sedan called the Borgward Hansa. In 1950, he introduced two small two-stroke front-wheel drive cars, the tiny 293 cc Lloyd and a 668 cc. Goliath. The Isabella, a unitary version of the Hansa with four-wheel independent suspension, debuted in June 1954. It came as a sedan, both with and without a canvas sunroof, a "Combi" station wagon, and a smart little cabriolet by coachbuilder Deutsch of Cologne. A coupe version was added in 1957. Power came from a 1493 cc. overhead valve four, developing 60 horsepower. A "TS" engine, which made 75 horsepower by increased compression, larger valves and a two-barrel carburetor, was available.

I discovered this Isabella coupe in Estes Park, Colorado, Gateway to the Rockies, while on a research trip. My main mission was study of the Stanley Steamer at the knee of Frank Hix, who instructed me in the art of firing up and raising steam. After successful liftoff, we took his Stanley 726 roadster to the Estes Park fairgrounds so that I could learn about the operators controls. Not surprisingly, the Borgward captured a few moments of my attention. It was obviously someone's project, as it was covered with a tarp - doing more harm than good, probably, flapping in the wind - and was missing its radiator. I hope someone has restored it by now.

Carl Borgward had a brief surge of success, capitalizing on the American thirst for imported cars in the late 1950s. About a quarter of the Isabella's production came to the United States through 1960, and Borgward was Germany's fourth-largest auto manufacturer. The Goliath and Lloyd makes continued, some of which, particularly the Lloyd 600, were also imported to the U.S. The end of Borgward came rapidly. In 1961, the firm was declared insolvent, and the business liquidated. However, creditors were paid in full, and Borgward partisans today feel that some degree of skulduggery was involved, as the auditor in the case was supervisory board chairman of BMW. There are several Borgward clubs and sites that explore the history in more detail.

Carl F.W. Borgward died of a heart attack on July 28, 1963. Some of the factory machinery was sold to Mexican investors, who built a limousine version of the P100 model at Monterrey from 1968 to 1970. And the inspiration for the name "Isabella"? Not the Spanish queen, it seems, but rather Herr Borgward's wife.

Mr. Merks Goes to Motown

Gregg D. Merksamer is no shrinking violet. Heads turn when he enters a space; conversation stops as shock and awe spread through the room. It's no surprise, then, that Gregg D's recent visit to the North American International Auto Show landed him in the pages of the Detroit News. Gregg D., whose regular beat runs to morbid motorcars, is a persistent and perceptive reporter, so we are grateful for his impressions and images of the Detroit show, a bellwether of automobiles to come.

Gregg D. is bullish on the U.S. auto industry. Finding Motown "still the nexus of all things automotive," he pronounced the show "chock full of splendid, American-branded debutantes that might actually attract some showroom traffic." Among them were a Camaro convertible, reprising last year's appearance of a revival F-car coupe, and the 2008 Cadillac CTS. The General drew honors, too, for the North American Car of the Year, the Saturn Aura, and Truck of the Year, the Chevrolet Silverado.

DaimlerChrysler intensified the minivan wars with "Swivel 'n Go" seats for the new Dodge Caravan and Chrysler Town & Country, oddly counterpoising them with the van that started it all, the late Plymouth Voyager. Collapsible hard tops are all the rage, so Chrysler trotted out one for the Sebring, and showed a Nassau concept wagon dubbed a "shooting brake," replete with a "bird in space" interior.

Wound-licking Ford brought out a concept vehicle called "Airstream," for its aluminum exterior. With camp features like a 360-degree lava lamp, it uses a hydrogen fuel cell to charge a lithium-ion battery. More conventional is the Interceptor, a Mustang-based sedan with shaker hood scoop and a 400-hp V8 that runs on E-85. There were no new Mercs for Merks, but Lincoln showed the MK-R concept, a retro-themed sedan that Gregg says "pays homage to the 1941 Continental." Maybe so, but I find its face frightening.

It wouldn't be an auto show without some kind of new Jeep, and design veep Trevor Creed was only too glad to oblige, lauding the Trailhawk, a T-top terratraveler with retractable quarter windows.

Overseas entries included a concept Jaguar C-XF, intended as a preview of the next X-Type, and a four-door droptop "Ocean Drive" from Mercedes-Benz. Despite the name, it does not appear to be amphibious. Honda marked the silver anniversary of U.S. manufacture with a concept version of an Accord coupe, aimed at younger buyers. Rolls-Royce had a new Phantom drophead on show, its suicide doors restrained with speed-sensitive locks.

The Chinese are coming: it's not a matter of whether but simply when. Chang Feng Motors showed three utility vehicles, a Liebao CS6 SUV, Liebao CS7 crossover, and a UU-CT_3 mini pickup. With Geely in abeyance and Bricklin divorcing Chery, perhaps Chang Feng, based at Hunan, will lead the Chinese charge.

A display of motoring heritage marked the centenary of Detroit's first dealer-sponsored show. A 1912 Standard electric roadster, a 1930 Lincoln Willoughby Town Sedan, a 1927 LaSalle and 1936 Cadillac V-12 were visiting from the Harold E. LeMay collection in Washington State. Corporate retro was represented by the Holden Efijy coupe, an amalgam of Holden's 1950s Australian FJ series with American 1930s themes reminiscent of the 2000 Buick Blackhawk.

EDAG, a German company, showed some concept hardtops, a hatchback on the Pontiac Solstice and a fastback for the Saturn Sky. Truly weird was Chang Feng's Rhombus, a four-wheel car in a diamond pattern, designed by students at Hunan University. Did they know about the 1947 Gordon Diamond, I wonder?

And finally the United States will Get Smart. In 2008, we are told, Roger Penske's United Auto Group will bring the new longer ForTwo to US dealerships. At NAIAS, a continuous parking gymkhana between two stretch limos demonstrated the agility of the little urban coupes.

Detroit may be back in the game, as Gregg D. says, but I think that Chang Feng - with Geely and Chery and probably SAIC, will soon be heavy competition.

A Car of My Own

Walter Chrysler and I have something in common. When he was 33 he bought a Locomobile and took it apart. I know the feeling: during the summer I turned nine I bought a Ford and did the same thing.

I knew I'd have a car sooner or later. I'd been consumed by them from my earliest memory, had learned to read from hubcaps and radiator ornaments. My moment came during the summer of 1953. A family friend had given me a copy of Ford at Fifty, the company's commemorative book for the golden jubilee. It was a bit of puff publicity, a paean of praise, but it had lots of fascinating photos and some vignettes of folks with Fords. One concerned a farming family with an all-Ford fleet. One of the photos showed a youngster working on an old Ford truck. "I wish I had an old Ford to work on," I mused.

It happened that my older cousin Ben had an extra one. He had recently traded up from his first car, a 1936 Ford convertible sedan, to a similar 1937 model. In the process he had acquired a parts car, but had taken all the parts he needed. He offered me the spare Ford for seven dollars. I didn't hesitate. My dad towed it to our house, my uncle steering, with our Jeep. I was ecstatic, and spent the rest of the day daydreaming behind the wheel.

Thus started my Walter Chrysler period, learning by doing, taking my Ford apart. I read extensively, finding out how Fords were made, how they worked and how to fix them. Unlike Walter Chrysler, though, I didn't put my car back together. Quite a few of the engine parts were missing, and not knowing the local junkyards I was at a loss to find them.

Ford built 4,378 convertible sedans in 1937, along with 3,723 phaetons without side windows. Whenever I see one I get nostalgic. I don't feel any regret in failing to restore it - eventually I sold off many of its parts. The lessons it taught me, however, were invaluable. When I was given a complete but inoperative car, a '47 Ford sedan, five years later, I was able to get it running within a week.