As glorious as they look, in full 1970’s colour schemes, there’s a ton of work in resorting an old van. I bought a vintage caravan. Here’s what I’ve learned so far The sales of secondhand vans are reportedly going through…
The sales of secondhand vans are reportedly going through the four-seasons roof hatch! As the COVID-19 pandemic forced the production halt at many new builders, the resident population of Australia it seems, left with no overseas travel options, have bought caravans in which to holiday at home. And why not! It’s a great lifestyle, and there’s tons to see. But that’s had a knock-on effect. The vintage van scene was already healthy – and now it’s attracting much more attention as projects spring up everywhere; especially Instagram. And the sales ads.
The downside to this is that prices have gone up, and that’s the first trap to fall into. There’s a merry-go-round of old vans for sale at exorbitant prices. I’ve seen stripped-out shells for $5000 that are “just ready for your personal touches”. That’s if your personal touches extend to chassis stripping, floor laying, wall building, finding a friendly electrician, and possibly a divorce lawyer. Not that long ago, that kind of money would have bought you a finished van, and it still will if you look to find the sensible ads.
About 18 months ago, I bought a 1974 Millard complete, for $700. Unregistered. It’s a (roughly) 15-16-foot model with room for four. Well, there would be room for four if it was habitable, but there’s enough dubious mould to put off even a Victorian landlord (of the historical kind), a lack of water and no old cons never mind mod ones. I was convinced it was a great idea.
So, in those 18 months, what have I learnt? Well, firstly, I don’t know what I am doing! So these words are by no means meant to be authoritative; maybe educational? I may have a pen licence, but for an angle grinder one, I will have to sit the test again. You see, there’s a reason your eyes might water when you’ve had work done by a qualified tradesperson – as opposed to the horsebound, big hat-wearing character galloping away with your hard-earned – they’ve got dem skills boi. If you’re equally dextrous on the tools then you will get further, faster, but the old van is a lesson in frustration with a seat reserved on the front row for you.
Assuming you’ve made your choice and paid your money, you have to get it home. It’s very likely unregistered.
If you’re going to renovate it, you don’t need to register it, you need a permit to tow it. Or you need a flatbed truck. I had fun at the RTA (RMS) with this one. The clerk was trying to coerce me into registering it, but without the blue slip you can’t, and you don’t want that document until you’ve finished (Ha!). So you pay $20-odd to allow you to move it and get it off the road again. You can’t park an unregistered vehicle on the road, remember. Anyway, the clerk’s point of view was that if the lights all worked and it was safe then there was no reason it couldn’t be registered.
The point is that the critical factor in all this is weight. When you have finished your renovation, the van will weigh something different to what it does sitting/rotting in a paddock. And it’s likely all the numbers you will have for the rego purposes will be a welded number on the drawbar, but that depends on individuals – this is only from personal experience.
So, when you’re happy the project is complete, then have it weighed, take it to an approved registration centre, and have your plates done and head to your equivalent state roads office to complete the process. I’m in NSW. It might be different where you live.
One cool tip for the trip home if your new project is a bit flimsy – shrinkwrap the whole thing! Strong wind can do horrible things to wayward tin and loose windows, etc. And your load must be secure.
Next? Join all the social media groups that you can find related to your ‘new’ caravan. It’s a support network and advice centre and cheaper than therapy.
I am still torn over the next step; whether to gut the van or try to retain the period interior. I opted for the latter but am rethinking this step for the following reason. It’s a bloody nightmare! You see, Millards, at least, were built from the inside out. So the interior furniture was installed prior to the external aluminium sheeting being riveted on. So the staples, screws and tacks are all concealed.
As an example, my ceiling was water damaged, so I pulled it down. Now, to re-sheet with plywood, I have to cut around all the cupboards instead of attaching full sheets of ply. However, the awkward bit is also having to make inserts for the ceiling that’s missing inside the cabinets; and it’s the same with the wall panels. Much more fiddly than if I went the strip-out route.
And it’s more than that, as I discovered when dealing with external trim around the wheel wells. You see, the original wheel arches are held in place by the floor, and that’s rotted on its outer edge meaning that the seals are not guaranteed. So if left alone, the first trip in wet weather will have more tears than the water filling your under-seat storage.
Which leads us nicely into the main event: Zen and the art of Caravan Maintenance, or waterproofing. A stripped-out van is not only easier to work on, but it’s also easier to check your sealing techniques, too. The Millard is an aluminium-framed van, with only timber used for the roof spars, apart from the furniture of course. So if you go to town on the external trim seals and windows and hatches, spraying your van with water should show up the leaks, if you’ve missed something. That’s a bit difficult with everything in place inside, not to mention tear-inducing because you may never find out where you’ve stuffed up. And discovering this at the end of the reno … priceless. Well, a credit card moment anyway.
Another purchasing tip, be wary of sellers who claim it’s been their van for ages and claim it’s watertight. How does the van smell? Mouldy? It’s leaking or has been. Following a few posts on social media, it’s obvious people are buying old vans and then trying to make a quick buck in the current climate; they’ve never been camping in that van! That said, a super confident seller may let you soak their caravan. At any rate, water stains are fairly easy to spot but peer into everything and check out the underside of the floor, especially if it feels spongy to walk on. (And don’t go ripping up 1960s, 70s, even early 80s floor tiling in a casual manner, it’s likely the glue contains asbestos.)
So, sealing the damn thing. This was a huge, joyful experience that brought light into my life. What new words have we learnt today, children?
Sikaflex, butyl mastic, sealant, adhesive, self-levelling sealant – a new lexicon and a massive expense! Never mind the obvious and exciting things you’ve thought of to spend your money on! You will go through tube after tube, and the Sikaflex 291 I’ve used for the just the trims is up to $25 a go. I want hot chips and ice cream on an amusement ride like that. I must confess to being super-stoked with the Dicor self-levelling sealant for the roof and the main hatch; just make a long line of the stuff and watch it settle! Again, though, four tubes: $80, with a discount (not via the link I’ve just provided!).
Since my van is stick and tin construction, you need to take off all the external aluminium trims that cover the joins between the walls and the roof and front and rear sections. They’re called the j rails or j trims. My minimal experience has shown that cleaning them while still on the van is the first step. Trying to do this with a fragile aluminium strip off the van risks damaging it. Newer vans will have varying trim options that may require you to buy a slide-in rubber or plastic covers too.
Hopefully, whatever sealant was used the last time this was done isn’t solidified, fossilised material by now, but you will need the perseverance to get over this step. What do you clean it off with? I hear you ask. And this is where social media came up trumps. I saw a reno guru – take a bow, Shelley Regan – use a red Josco abrasive wheel to go in your drill. And its effects? Amazing. You will need to clean the joins on the van’s panels too, and a chisel will help with first scraping the bulk residue before you fire up the wheel. For your health, wear a mask and goggles and gloves – you know, standard gear for going to the shops these days.
Once that’s done, you can add the sealant. And that’s it. Easy.
If only. How much do you use? Well, the first j-rail I did I put a bead on the van join and a bead inside the trim. Too much! It’s like measuring out spaghetti; it’s never right. I’ve subsequently found that a small bead inside the trim is sufficient before you place the trim back on, screw it down and then use your finger and soapy water to smooth out the excess along the sides – or add more where the rise and fall of the aluminium cladding require it.
I cannot stress this enough – use rubber gloves. Buy a box of surgical or the workshop types from Bunnings or Repco, Supercheap, etc. You don’t want this toxic sealant on your skin. The first time I was covered in it, as was everything else I touched. My new touch-to-start cordless drill wouldn’t … What with all the COVID handwashing we’ve been doing, plus this stuff on my skin I reckon I could be untraceable by my fingerprints as I don’t have any. Acetone removes Sikaflex 291, but it’s not ideal on your skin either.
This week has seen the windows take pride of place on my to-do list. Billed by everyone I have spoken to as a bastard of a job, I was anticipating another nightmare, but the first one (only a single-pane window) has been okay. I did swap the glass for polycarbonate via my local glazier and discovered that the trim they use for shower screens fits as well as the original window trim for $5 less a metre – only 19 more to do. Although I am now wondering if this trim will actually last when exposed to UV rays, not hiding in an internal shower. Swings and roundabouts!
Please don’t take this as a definitive guide! I am muddling through but thought I’d share the experience. It assists in your trauma recovery if you talk about it, so consider yourselves part of my therapy group. Thanks for your help folks! In any event, it’s hard work, but it’s rewarding. Plus, the renovated vans that are out and about and pending are fantastic to look at, whether they’re restored or reimagined.
If you want to read more stories like this, let us know in the comments or drop me a line at sayhello@rvdaily.com.au
Fantastic resources can be found at Vintage Caravan Spares and at Caravans Plus with which I have no affiliation, but I am brazenly looking for sponsors.
I also regularly refer to Facebook groups, Millard and York Caravan Owners – Australia and Millard Caravan Owners Group
There, I feel better now.
