After we described the symptoms, our saviour opined " Posible La bomba esta rompida!" In no time he had the fuel pump disassembled, with all the pieces laid out on the right fender. He carefully cut a piece of chamois & inserted it into the re-assembly sequence, blew out the lines with ample lungs, spat & swore at the taste of benzina, and had us running again in less than 30 minutes total!! - We offered him our rum & tequila. He accepted, but then drove off, al Norte; with no refrigeration the two of them drove straight through, from Santa Rosalia to Ensenada, some 30+ hours!! -
My third tale is in Ensenada, about 1964. A bunch of us who worked for Ampex Computer Products, formerly Telemeter Magnetics, in Culver City & W.L.A., went deep sea fishing out of Ensenada two or three times yearly. We drank margaritas in Hussongs when they poured you a separate glass of the over pour, and it was an authentic local spot instead of the current hole for gringos borrachos. We played a lot of poker, drank a lot, and even fished; it was boys night out for the weekend.
Sunday after fishing, some of us drove up Chapultepec Hill, where all the rich folks lived, and the streets, unlike most in town, were paved. Great views a photo opportunities. Driving down in my old Ford wagon, I straddled a rock that looked like it was about 3" high. It turned out to be higher, as we heard an ominous CLUNK as we passed over it. A quick glance in the rear view mirror showed a black liquid trail behind the wagon! I shut off the ignition & coasted into a service station at the bottom at the hill. The attendant pointed to a hovel across the street: Not a garage, a hovel! We walked across a encountered a Mexican kid who looked about 14 & spoke zero English. He took one glance at the hole in the engine pan under the car & enlisted his friends to help push the car over to his dubious establishment. We watched as he slithered under the car (no creeper!) with an adjustable crescent wrench & somehow removed the pan. He then washed out the oil in some noxious tank of uncertain petrochemicals and proceeded to hammer the splayed flanges of torn metal back into place on a rock that served as an anvil. We then watched open-mouthed as this greasy urchin fired up an oxy-acelylene welding rig & proceeded to silver-solder the pan! He had us on the road in about an hour, charging us $4 labor plus $4.80 for the 6 or 8 quarts of oil to tutu the big Ford V-8. In the U.S. we would have had to wait until the parts house opened Monday A.M. & paid for a new pan, pan gasket, plus an arm & leg for the R&R labor, plus the oil!! And we talk about American ingenuity! - Dale.
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