Minor Variance

Badge-engineering isn’t always an American thing

So, now that we know this is not a Morris product but actually an Austin, we can look into the background and what was involved in this impeccable restoration of a fairly obscure utilitarian vehicle.

This Austin pickup truck or more accurately, an Austin Utility was found in a backyard garden doing a slow rot when it was saved from oblivion. As a mundane work-a-day truck, there’s not usually much interest in saving and restoring these types of vehicles. As you can imagine, they live hard, unglamourous lives as part of the workforce, then when their usefulness is over, they are unceremoniously dumped and/or scrapped.

When Derbyshire restoration enthusiast Chris Nuttall came upon this poor, neglected example, he envisioned more than just a truck, but saw it as a rarity that deserved to be saved. So, he did. It is now an award-winning concours condition auto that reminds us of a bygone era when these types of vehicles were commonplace on English roads.

The background…

To provide some more background, we must look at how this obviously “Morris Minor” became an Austin. Back when the folks at the British Motor Corporation, or BMC as it was known, decided to economize, they did what any self-serving and thrifty corporation would do, they took the cheap way out and decided the easy way to offer their paying public alternative products was to adopt the chintzy practice of badge-engineering. As we all know this is the slapping of another division’s logo onto an existing vehicle from another arm of the company. This is usually done for the benefit of a dealer network that may have one of the manufacturer’s product lines, but not another. This duplication of virtually the same product allows the various dealers to compete in the marketplace, or so goes the corporate theory.

In the early 1960s, this was the situation before BMC. Austin and Morris both were divisions of that corporation but had come from decidedly different backgrounds and had different followers. As the expense of producing two separate product lines to fulfill the same market became untenable, a certain “melding of the marques” seemed very appealing. So, just as General Motors’ GMC and Chevrolet divisions shared truck platforms and many of their final products, Austin and Morris were obliged to do the same.

This arrangement carried on through the early 1970s and performed adequately until growing competition and the rising of the star-crossed British Leyland Motor Corporation.

In those days, it was quite common to see both Austin and Morris-badged commercial vehicles such as these plying the motorways across all of Britain with a few even finding their way to other parts of the Commonwealth.

With the forming of the British Leyland Motor Corporation through the merger of BMC and Leyland Motors and the subsequent ham-fisted management of that organization and its unions, the entire British auto industry was soon on the ropes. With no viable replacements and growing competition from offshore, vehicles like the Austin and Morris 1000-derivatives, although iconic, were obviously severely dated relics of the past and had no place in the developing market.

The find and the restoration…

This particular little 1971 Austin Utility was found in a rural garden in Derbyshire and had obviously seen better days. Its faded robin-egg blue paint only barely hid some of the abuse and scars on its bodywork. The almost military-looking canvas back cover had long since disappeared and the skeletal, rusted bows that once supported it were all that was left over the open rear bed. The interior was very rough after many years of hard use and there were a few bumps, dents and bruises both inside and out. This little truck had definitely earned its keep through years of hard labour.

There were, however, saving graces that were noted. The bodywork and understructure actually and incredibly, was fairly rust-free and quite solid. Most of the brightwork, trim and fittings were present and in restorable condition. many of the hard-to-find items that are peculiar to these utility vehicles were also there. Chris saw hope for the wee Austin, so discussions ensued, and an agreement was made, and Chris ended up as the new owner.

Back at Chris’s shop, the Austin was given a thorough going-over and a careful taking of inventory was done before it was completely dismantled. All the various parts were inspected and reviewed to make sure of their serviceability. Those that didn’t make the cut would have to be repaired, refurbished or in some cases, replaced. This would take time and the search was on for new pieces.

The various bruises and bumps in the body were addressed with meticulous bodywork executed by Chris. An understated “Laguna Beige” paint was chosen from the factory palette as this went perfectly with the envisaged custom-made replacement canvas cover for the back bed area. Personally, I felt it gave a certain “military” look to the finished vehicle and it would fit nicely in the deserts of North Africa or some other far-off posts in the empire.

After a restoration journey that lasted 11 years, the final re-assembly was completed and Chris had performed a careful program of testing and fettling, the sparkling little Austin was deemed ready for its public debut.

It met with immediate success winning its class at several concours d’elegance and regional car shows that it was entered in.

Not only that, but the Austin has been the subject of numerous articles and photo-shoots both in the UK and abroad.

Chris is rightfully proud of his little Austin and the international recognition it has enjoyed. Here at Moto/ology, we’re only too happy to join in featuring the story of this delightful little lorry!

Check out the full article and photos in the Moto/ology Flip/book!