When old is gold

It’s fair to say most Aussie caravanners, where budget permits, prefer the latest and greatest.

It’s the reason market leaders like Jayco change the décor, exterior styling, even model names on a regular basis, while adopting the latest trends and technological advancements.

But for a growing number of caravanners, old is gold. Perhaps shying away from the generic, ‘appliance’ look of modern vans, they increasingly seek the unique style, character and historical intrigue of often mysterious and ill-fated models of bygone eras.

To see what all the fuss is about, we chatted to a few owners about their pride and joy at this year’s Vintage & Classic Caravan Display, held during the South Australian Caravan & Camping Lifestyle Show at the Adelaide Showgrounds in late-February.

While only a relatively small gathering of about 25 vans (fierce 35 degrees-plus heat plus competition from another historic caravan display at the Clipsal 500 the following week-end, may have deterred a few), you couldn’t fault the enthusiasm and passion of the owners for their, often immaculately restored, golden oldies…

1968 BARAVAN

One of the reasons vintage vans have become so popular – and risen in value -- is that more recently they’ve become the ultimate accessory for owners of classic cars.

And who can argue with the period style and timeless beauty of a shiny classic car with matching era van in tow?

Gary and Sharon Arnold are a good case in point. The middle-aged couple already owned a 1968 Holden panel van, before deciding about six years ago to purchase a ‘matching’ caravan.

Searching online, they unearthed a 1968 Baravan for sale just across the South Australian border in Casterton, Victoria.

“We dragged it home, gave it a big clean and spent a bag of money on it,” said Gary.

They paid $2700, although admitted that today as a ‘collectible’ it would be worth a lot more.

“We bought it before the vintage craze hit. Friends of ours have a Franklin and they did it up in the style of rock ‘n roll, Buddy Holly, and we bought the caravan with the intention of going along those lines… with black and white checker flooring, and then vintage came along and we decided not to,” Sharon said.

While it retains an authentic look, with many original items including oven, wall and cabin finishes, like many ‘working’ vintage vans it now has upgraded gas and electrical fittings, and new fridge.

Other modern comforts include split system air-conditioning, and a porta potti, although they’re tucked away out of the line of sight.

“We’ve modernized it but discreetly, most people don’t know the air-con is there unless you point it out to them,” he said.

The old “click-clack” couch has been dumped for a more convenient, fixed double bed, and there’s the all-important period touches like an old Esky and hair dryer.

The exterior has been re-painted to match the Holden panel van, which was in the workshop so a similarly aged Holden sedan had towing duties.

“I was looking for a mid-‘60s caravan to go with the panel van. This is a ’68, but they never really changed much, apart from the door and interior fit-out,” he said, referring to the fact many of the Baravans were sold with a door in front of the axle.

Baravan built caravans in Western Australia for around 20 years from the mid-1950s to mid-'70s before going bust, and are still relatively common in the west.

It’s the Arnold’s first caravan. “We went straight into the old, and I don’t think I’d buy a new van,” Gary said.

“What we like is that next year we’ll be going to Kempsey to the Vintage Caravan Nationals, so you meet lots of people,” Sharon said. “Most of the people who’ve got the older vans have an older car to go with it…”

The Arnolds also enjoy rock ‘n roll dancing, another throwback to the 1950s and ‘60s. “Everything all sort of melds into one,” she said.

1960 HOMEBUILT VAN

Sometimes you’re just destined to own a vintage caravan...

One of the most spectacular RV rigs to ever hit South Australian roads was the aptly named

Highway Palace, a monster fifth-wheeler towed by a matching colour, 1946 Fargo truck.

Still in existence, the Highway Palace was hand-crafted around 65 years ago by an Adelaide business called Grace Brothers for bakery owner Harry Parr.

Norman Grace, the son of the builder, then built a few one-off caravans himself, including a unique, folding roof mini-van that was passed on to his nephew, Brenton Walker.

Despite the tiny, three-berth unit not being much bigger than a teardrop van, with limited interior space to match, it’s become the much-loved family caravan for Brenton and his parents, towed by a 1960 Morris Minor 1000.

“We’ve toured most of Victoria with it, and every time we go to Queenscliff we’ve struck storms, so we know the van can handle storms,” said Brenton’s mum, Dianne.

The 8ft x 5ft 5in wide van is made from bondwood and marine ply and features a mixed bag of components including perspex windows and old domestic/style window winders. It sits on tiny 8in wheels and weighs just 350kg unladen.

“Morrie couldn’t tow much more than that… We named it Forget Me Not, because it’s so light you do turn around to make sure it’s there,” she said.

“When we’re travelling, if we’re doing 90km/h we’re really flying. It takes us longer to get where we’re going, but as I say to people, we actually see the ants having a picnic!”

Brenton restored the van with his uncle in 2005, in the process repainting it white instead of the original pink designed to appeal to his uncle’s daughter.

Believe it or not, the interior sleeps up to three people, has mini-globes running off 12V electrics and a kitchen with bar fridge. There’s even a ‘toy’ Hoover washing machine they take when camping.

“We look at everything in miniature, even the drink cans that fit inside the fridge, we buy mini ones,” Dianne said.

“We do like this style of caravanning. Everybody gets out at night and talks to one another. We’re finding when we go to caravan parks, the people in the big modern caravans tend to stay in their own bathrooms, they lock themselves away.”

“To me caravanning is meeting people, and the shower block or the camp kitchen is the place where you catch up with everyone. You also learn a lot of information from different people, but not if you’re locked away in your grand palace!”

Having well and truly caught the vintage van bug, Brenton is currently rebuilding from the ground up another, quirky slide-on camper built by his uncle.

And if his uncle ever tires of his other home-made 1950s ‘round’ van, he wants that one too…

1957 VISCOUNT DELUXE

Barry Thomas is another classic car nut that’s fallen head over heels for a vintage van.

A member of the Chrysler Restorers Club, he’s the proud owner of a 1960 Dodge Phoenix ‘tow car’, that’s been in the family for 30 years.

“A number of members in the club got old vans and so I thought I’d like a van too from that era,” he said.

“I got onto this one about four years ago, and didn’t realize all the work involved with all the wood rot and all the other stuff involved (in the restoration).”

As is often the case with vintage vans, Barry had to painstakingly remove old paint applied by previous owners to bring back the original look of his 1957 Viscount.

“Someone had painted it this yucky green with brown strip around it. And when stripping the paint off we discovered the old, hand written signwriting, that was at the back and front.”

He found a local business that specialized in hand written signs to reproduce the original decals, while a friend in the Chrysler club spray-painted the interior locker doors and strips down the sides in matching blue.

“Even the bows across the top of the roof had rotted because the seals and sealants of yesterday are just nothing like the silicone used today,” he explained.

“When I was putting it back together I don’t know how many tubes of sealant I used, I thought I don’t want this ever to leak again!”

Replacement parts were difficult to find, so many pieces had to be re-created from scratch.

“I’ve never seen a van with such a large skylight. A lot of the timber around the outside had gone rotten, so I just used a pattern and rebuilt it. Only a couple of little pieces are original,” he said.

“So much of this, whether you’re restoring old cars or vans, is trying to find where to buy old bits and pieces.”

Before acquiring the run-down van, he said it had been used as an ‘accomodation flat’ for around 15 years.

“I paid $300 for it, but I’ve probably spent five or six thousand dollars on it since, but that’s not including labour.”

Although it had a gas cooker and oven, a more modern microwave now takes care of cooking.

“The wife said I don’t want an oven, I’m not going to be doing any cooking! I need a little microwave, so that’s the smallest one we could find.”

“The Laminux is all original, so it’s travelled pretty well. There are only a few scratches in it, but none of us these days are looking as pristine as when we came out of our mother’s womb. We’ve all got a few scratches and bangs.”

The longest trip so far, towed behind the equally immaculate V8 Dodge, was to Forbes for a car rally, with a ‘detour’ to Brisbane to visit some friends.

“It goes really well behind the Dodge, provided we don’t go over 80 or 85km/h. We also get good fuel consumption, about 21 miles per gallon, or 14L/100km,” he said.

1969 VISCOUNT AMBASSADOR

Viscount was a big, now defunct name, from the glory days of Australian caravanning in the 1960s and '70s.

So no surprise there are more than a few decent examples still floating around, including the very well-travelled 1969 Viscount Ambassador owned by Phil and Marj Luke.

“We got it 16 years ago. It was just a little old fashioned caravan then,” recalled Marj. “About four years ago it became a vintage caravan, and doubled in value. We bought it for $1900, and now it’s valued at $5000.”

“Phil had a camper trailer, and it was a very wet Easter and we said we’re not going to take this tent to Bright, we’re going to get a caravan. We bought it out of the Trading Post.

“Our first trip was up to Darwin and around the west, for three months.”

Now known as the “map people” in vintage caravanning circles, 75-year-old Phil proudly proclaims they’ve now clocked up 150,000km "easy", with the van outlasting a number of tow vehicles.

The last big trip the sprightly couple did was two years ago: a leisurely 16,700km “up through the middle and then around the west again.”

While a Holden Commodore is the current tow tug, for special occasions the Viscount is hitched up to the Lukes’ immaculate 1968 Holden sedan.

Numerous modifications have been made to the 10ft 6in van over the years including a new drawbar to accommodate a front toolbox and outside compartment for a two burner cooker. Unbelievably, the original Electrolux fridge still “works great”.

Like many owners of vintage vans, the Lukes have added a microwave for inside cooking, and replaced the old pump-action tap for a fancy electric version.

The Lukes’ compact model is believed to be quite rare, as most Viscounts were much bigger and had a frame made from aluminium instead of steel.

All up, it weighs 1000kg fully loaded, and has a 12V battery system “so we can do all the free camping. You get to talk to people then.”

And their next trip? From Adelaide to Perth, to visit “a great, great grand-daughter that we haven’t seen yet and another great grandson”.

1972 WARTZ EXPANDAVAN

Jayco are the undisputed kings of ‘expander’ caravans these days, but you have to hand it to the makers of the original Wartz Expandavan for their ability to create interior space out of almost nothing.

However, according to its current husband and wife owners, Agnes and Alan Bilton, it seems the all-fibreglass Wartz with its two opposing slide-out ‘bedrooms’ was ahead of its time, or just too expensive when it came out in the late-1960s.

“It was originally made in bondwood, then in aluminium, then these were in fibreglass. They made 10 but they were too expensive. They cost $1400, which was a lot of money in 1972,” Agnes said.

“They just didn’t sell. This one was actually made in 1969 but first registered in 1972.”

The couple wasn’t exactly looking for an odd-ball ‘70s model when they went looking about eight years ago for something to take on holidays.

“We went looking for an ordinary caravan and I saw this one in the paper, and I just fell in love with it. I absolutely had to have it when I saw it. Of course, it didn’t look like this when we bought it, we had to do it up,” she said.

“We paid $3500 for it and have spent another $5000 on it since.”

Most of the fibreglass was still in good condition, which was fortunate as the wooden cupboard doors and floor are the only non-fibreglass components.

Weighing around half a tonne, the Wartz was marketed as being light enough to be towed by a Mini. Yet parked and with the bi-fold sides pulled out to create two, large double beds, with room for a small kitchen and dining table, it feels quite spacious inside.

As vintage club members, the Wartz goes on regular club runs, including jaunts to Port Lincoln and Broken Hill.

“When we’ve been away and it’s rained everybody has come in here. We’ve had eight people sitting in here,” she said.

1958/59 CARAPARK ZESTLINE

Vintage caravanners are nothing if not an enthusiastic bunch. Take Mel Robertson, who drove all the way from Melbourne to Adelaide to show off her rare Carapark Zestline prototype at the South Australian show.

Inspired by America’s Airstream, Carapark was a NSW caravan manufacturer that churned out a range of unique, toaster-shaped, all-metal caravans in the 1950s and early-‘60s.

Mel actually owns two Caraparks including the display model, which is one of two prototypes for the company’s Zestline ‘family’ model introduced in 1960.

She picked it up for just $600 in 2006, and has since fully restored it including replacing the original upholstery.

“She’s either a 1958 or ’59 Carapark Zestline, and she’s a prototype for the production run that started in 1960. She has the unique opening porthole windows, and doesn’t have fins (like the production versions),”she said.

Her other Carapark, currently at the repairers, is a 1960 production model with square windows and rear fins inspired by the ‘space race’ cars of the era.

“Some dumb bastard used it as an incubator for snakes, mice and beetles. So I’ve gutted it and it’s at the welders getting its frame repaired,” she said.

Despite all the metal, the Zestline remains relatively light (at 1200kg unladen) and reasonably easy (if somewhat thirsty) to tow, with Mel admitting it’s “the least aerodynamic caravan on the planet because of her flat front and air scoop”.

“But it’s practical inside, with butterfly-opening roof hatch and full width front and rear windows; you don’t get that in a Jayco!

“I like the big windows. I like to go bush camping, and go into the middle of nowhere and leave all the curtains off and I feel like I’m outside.”

She rubbed the aluminium sides (on a steel frame) back to bare metal, as they were originally, adding some foam cell insulation to reduce the ‘tin box’ effect in summer.

“I removed three different layers of paint, on the bottom panel all the way around, as everyone used to paint their caravans,” she said.

“What I like about her is I can do all the repairs myself. I’ve done the interior and all the wiring, and I love it. It’s fun, it’s a hobby and I go away in it. I’ve been to the last three Vintage Caravan Nationals.”

She fashioned the period-style awning from old canvas picked up at a garage sale, adding new ropes dyed in tea to make them look old.

She's also replaced all the Phillips head screws from an earlier rebuild with the original slot-headed style.

“We try to keep the vans to their original flavor where possible,” Mel said.

Like the Airstream though, the biggest headache with the restoration has been replacing countless rivets in the roof and walls.

“I’m actually the queen of rivets. It has more rivets than an Airstream.  I think my favourite day was when I discovered there was an air-powered rivet gun!”

1934 SUNDOWNER

Finding out the history of any vintage van, can be difficult at the best of times. But the owner of this ‘Sundowner’ van has required the sleuthing skills of Sherlock Holmes to piece together its past.

“We’re not sure what it is, it’s possibly a one-off. We know it was called the Sundowner and figure it was built in the 1930s in South Australia, possibly by Rowvan as it has the classic ‘cathedral style’ ceiling with the composed beams associated with that maker,” said owner Steve Lloyd.

Further clues about its origins lie in the Art Deco light fittings.

“We know the light switches came out in 1932 and the lights stopped being made under that name in 1939. They also stopped making caravans in the late 1930s because of the war effort,” he said.

Steve’s own life story is inextricably linked with the Sundowner’s.

“We’ve had it on and off for about 30 years. We rented it and lived in it for about a year to build our house, and then my sister had it on her farm, it got damaged, I rescued it and did it up," he explained. 

"Then the original owner wanted it back so for 25 years and it sat under a carport. Then he left it for me when he died."

“I’ve now restored it with 21st century running gear and LED lighting, so it’s all set up for free camping. All the cabinetry and 1930s English crockery is original, and we still use it, this is our working caravan.”

The original wardrobe now features inside lights that turn on when you open the door, and there’s a new fridge and coffee machine. It’s also gained a 12V water pump, but the old, two burner cooker is no longer connected.

The low-set front lounge has a flip-down bunk to turn it into a handy, four berth caravan.

Also new for the one-tonne van are electric brakes, while a safer 50mm ball is in place of the old ‘claw’ hitch.

Steve thinks the original bondwood body was reclad with aluminium in the 1950s. He’s also added a new roof made from the sugar cane-derived ‘canite’ and canvas they used back then, finished with bitumen and reflective paint to reduce the inside temperature by up to 10 degrees.

He's also ensured that future owners are not left in the dark about the Sundowner’s fascinating past.

“When I did it up I left a time capsule (inside the body) so that in 80 years’ time when they pull it apart it will tell the story. All the knowledge I have is wasted otherwise.”