martin horrocks
Although the origins and paths they took during their first twenty years of life are similar, TVR's story runs counter to Lotus's in many ways. To begin with, let's say that TVR's beginnings were a succession of flirtations with financial danger and that its glory days didn't come until after 1973; a splendor that inexplicably ended some time later when the company's success seemed finally on track.
The TVR Engineering Cabinet was founded by TreVoR Wilkinson in 1947. His first car, like Colin Chapman's, was a special specifically a prewar Alvis. However, the headquarters of his company was always in the holiday resort of Blackpool, in the English North West, a long way from the specialist pole of South West London where Lotus, Cooper, Brabham or McLaren were forged. It was therefore a highly individualistic brand, in which things were done in their own - and unique - way.
TVR Wilkinson decided to dedicate itself to the manufacture of sports cars, so in 1952 it launched its first sports car, Model 2, a special with an aluminum body and a Ford engine of which currently only one unit remains.
The breakthrough came with the Sporting Saloon, dressed in a RGS fiberglass body. It was special because, in an age when a sports car had to be a convertible by definition, it was a coupe. And it is that Wilkinson knew how to see the great advantages that the new material could offer to anyone who wanted to stop supporting the inclement weather. He used it in combination with a chassis of his own design without much success, it is true, but as a first stone to accumulate experience.
He continued to develop the concept in collaboration with American Ray Saidel, who asked him to build one of his chassis and equip it with Volkswagen suspensions and Coventry-Climax engine (!). He finished off the project with fiber and thus the Jomar was born, quite similar to the Grantura futures - except for the fastback rear - and which attracted a lot of attention in the USA.
At TVR they felt strong and went ahead developing their own bodies. Nothing too complicated, not at all: they joined two Microplas hoods at the rear, made the necessary mold, and then added a fastback roof. The result was the aforementioned Grantura, a short sports car, more flirtatious than elegant, but truly important because it laid the aesthetic foundations for the house of Blackpool for the next thirty years.
The arrival of Jack Griffith
Excited after seeing it, Seidal became the brand's distributor in the United States. He exhibited the prototype at the New York Show and received no more and no less than 200 orders. It was good news. The bad news came when TVR was unable to take on the job and went bankrupt after a hundred Granturas MkI manufactured.
After saving himself again, Wilkinson increased the range of engines with that of the MG A and fitted some front brake discs. Thus was born the Grantura MKII. After four hundred units sold, in 1962 the MKIII would arrive, with a new chassis and with Triumph front suspension instead of VW. That same year, with the aim of gaining prestige, Wilkinson decided to start a competition program, which included the participation of his cars in races of the 12 Hours of Sebring or 24 Hours of Le Mans category; careers they rarely managed to finish. The financial problems returned and, aware of what he believed his failure, he left the company never to return.
Jack Griffith, a North American dealer, saw the potential of the ruined TVR, and had the feeling that in those little gadgets he could fit a Ford V8 and wage war on Carroll Shelby and his legendary Cobras. The dreaded new model was called Griffith and, fundamentally, it was imported to the United States, where engines of between 200 and 400 horses were mounted. As you can imagine, given its light weight it was an unruly machine, but tremendously effective when driven as it should. Now yes, 250 units were sold and the results in competition were immediate.
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However, the Grantura was still in production, and in 1963 the engine of the MG B began to be mounted. However, J. Griffith's claims were excessively ambitious for the brand and, although the Griffith was sold, it was not yet profitable. . Therefore, the money problems returned and, with it, a new change of ownership, this time in the name of a minority shareholder, Arthur Lilley. The latter could not think of anything else but to put his twenty-three-year-old son in charge of the new company, which seemed to be cannon fodder for its final end.
Nothing could be further from the truth: Martin Lilley saved the company. The Grantura was redesigned and, in 1966, it received the engine and gearbox of the Ford Cortina, transforming into the new Vixen model. In 1968 the Tuscan was introduced, with a V8 engine, a wider and longer chassis but with a similar appearance. Variations in the initial scheme began to be introduced to the 73 units produced, such as a 6-liter V3 in 1969. During the next ten years the Tuscan would house L6 Triumph engines, would be turbocharged and would be dressed with cabrio and hatchback bodies - being these latest Taimar versions.
But in the mid-1980s, Lilley realized that TVR could no longer live off what appeared to be a single model with various preparations. In 6 he launched the new Tasmin, which was much larger and more sophisticated, with a distinctly angular line to differentiate itself from the rounded shapes that had characterized Blackpool cars almost from their origins. There were V8 and V1984 versions, coupes and convertibles. The fact is that after a job of twenty years, the company was finally profitable. Martin Lilley sold TVR in XNUMX.
The chemist
The successful buyer was Peter Wheeler, a chemical industrialist so successful that he had been able to retire at the age of forty. He acquired TVR for the simple reason that he liked their cars, and he turned out to be another excellent manager, credited with transforming the conservative English brand into one of the world's most dynamic sports car manufacturers.
Wheeler's philosophy was founded on two basic principles: a simple base, to which you can progressively add power. Without any electronic driving aid, the successive mutations would make their machines more and more extravagant: it widened the wedge line of the Tasmin and transformed it into a car with increasingly large wheels and spoilers ... The TVRs were admired by the press specialized of the moment.
And they returned to racing, but in a different way, smarter than before. Wheeler developed a new Tuscan convertible, with a fierce V8, produced solely for competition. It was about organizing a brand championship, in which everyone had a good time and wanted to return the following year. He would drive one of the cars himself. Eventually, he succeeded, and the “Tuscan Series” became famous and extremely profitable. The rounded shapes of the convertible used were reminiscent of early TVRs and served as a model for future creations that would ultimately be the best of the brand.
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Wheeler's last ten years have been a triumph when it comes to innovation and rationality. Following its basic formula, it produced new lines of coupes and convertibles that opened up a new market. Chimera, Griffith, Cerbera, Tamora, T350, Tuscan (coupe, later), Sagaris ... it seemed that in the company you could not be still. And yet the process was developing in a progressive, consistent, and relatively inexpensive way to produce.
For the first time TVR manufactured its own engines, whose range ranged from an L6 to a V12, through V8's derived from the old Rover V8 engine, the most widely used. Encouraged by the results of the Tuscan series, Wheeler designed GT cars for international racing; He even returned to Le Mans between 2003 and 2005, without results, it is true, but without making a fool of himself.
The era of the successful chemist was one in which the brand was well funded and run with the energy and practicality required by a small sports-making business. In addition, P. Wheeler knew when to get off the train, at the moment when he believed that he could no longer take the Blackpool cars any further. He was offered £ 15 million in 2004, a figure that appeared to be the result of a correct valuation, and he sold. It is a real shame that the buyer had nothing but money.
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