A Firm Foundation

Looking at my blog posts you wouldn't realize that I've actually had this trailer since mid-April.  I just finally got around to starting this record of events.  It's taken several months to get to this point.

One of the most pressing issues that I wanted to address was to get the axle replaced.  I had to get the trailer inspected in order to register it in my state.  The mechanic didn't see any issues but it's obvious to me that the trailer had settled a few inches.

In 1961 Airstream evolved away from leaf spring suspensions to a new axle design called the "Duratorque".  The Duratorque axle used rubber rods to provide the spring-like function of leaf springs and over time the rubber fails to provide support.  When the axle looses it's suspending capability, the trailer suffers from a rougher ride.  Rivets can be shaken loose and a lot more wear and tear can occur.

In addition of the axle, the bottom of the trailer is surrounded by a sheet of aluminum called the belly pan.  The belly pan covers the frame and insulation so you can't really see what the frame looks like when the belly pan is in place.

My belly pan had come loose from the frame in a few places so it needed to be resecured.  Before I did that, I wanted to make sure the axle was good to go.

Crawling under the trailer, I took some photos to get an idea of how things looked.

It's a little hard to tell is this photo but the axle has what is called a "negative lift angle".  The bottom of the axle is the square portion at the top of the picture.  In fact, you can see the LPG line going to the water heater has been crushed against the axle.  The rod going through the axle has an arm that cantilevers over to the hub of the wheel.  That arm is going upward where it should be going slightly downward.  Over the past 50 years the rubber inside the axle has degraded and allowed the arm to slowly settle.

From this angle you can see the negative lift angle of the cantilevered axle arm.  I need to address the crushed propane line too.

From this shot you can see the top of the wheel is pretty much in line with the bottom of the wheel well opening.  Or, maybe this is easier... note how the center of the hub cap aligns with the bottom of the trailer.

Now I'd like to think I could change an axle if I had to but the reality is I don't have the space nor the experience to trust myself to do it.  So I looked for a pro to help me out.  A lot of places can do it but I wanted to use someone who was experienced with Airstreams specifically.

I chose to go to Frank Yensan at Frank's Trailer Works in Baltimore MD.  Frank is best described as an artist who specializes in the medium of aluminum and sweat.  I'm glad I brought it to him because apparently these "new" axles were installed a lot more permanently in the first year than in later years.  It took Frank a long time to accomplish what is ordinarily a much more straightforward project.  You can read about his work on his blog, and specifically about this axle swap by clicking here.

Of course, while it was there I asked him to check out a myriad other things that I needed a second opinion on and he banged through quite a lot of them.  This included fixing my propane lines and installing a new hot water heater.   Frank showed me how to turn on all of the appliances in the trailer and now I can say with 100% certainty that the original range, oven and refrigerator still work!   The plumbing system needs to be overhauled before I can test the hot water heater though.

Getting the axle redone has provided greater peace of mind while at the same time provided an additional two-to-three inches of lift.  Now the arm has a positive lift angle and you can actually see the arm extending below the bracket.  The propane line isn't crushed either.

And check out the difference between the top of the steel wheel and the wheel well.  The center of the hubcap is a good 2-3 inches below the bottom of the trailer now.  I'm sure the frame on this old trailer is thankful for the renewed support.

Since I had a new axle with new brakes, etc. I decided to replace the 5 year old tires with new tires too.  Trailer tires are special - they carry a LOT of weight and they tend to fail from age rather than from thread wear.  I decided to be on the safe side and invest in new tires, as most folks suggest replacing trailer tires every 3-5 years, depending on use.

Cecil is now on a firm foundation.  Next up on the to-do list is to replace all the plumbing.

What's in a name?

Apparently it's traditional to name your Airstream.  I guess that harkens back to Airstream's roots in the aircraft industry.  Think of all the WWII airplanes with names painted on their sides.

Hmm...  what's a good name for an old trailer?

The Silver Bullet?  Nah, everybody has thought of that.  Silver Streak?  Nah, same.

Hmm... it's harder than I thought.

Vintage Airstreams, especially the smaller ones, remind me of turtles.  The larger ones look like railroad cars to me.  A Safari is small so I narrowed my thoughts to turtle names.

The other thing about turtles is they bring their homes wherever they go... so that also fits nicely with a travel trailer.  Don't you think?

Turtles are slow but I like to think that means that turtles are patient.   Patience is required for travel trailers too, as when towing it's important to not exceed 65 MPH.  Like a turtle, you need to be patient and stay in the slow lane.  Nice and easy gets the job done.

It didn't take me long to settle on a name from there.  I chose Cecil, from Bug Bunny's "the Tortoise and the Hare".  Remember this cartoon?

Yeah, Cecil is a perfect name.  I had a bumper sticker made and attached it to my spare tire cover.  I've got another one for next to the door.

Meet Cecil, the 1961 Airstream Safari.

Spit and Polish

Most people I know would recognize an Airstream as a big silver-colored camper.  Most people probably don't realize how much work it is to keep it looking silver rather than a dull gray.  Originally new models left the factory with a clear coat of lacquer covering the polished aluminum surface.  All you had to do was car for it like you would your car.

However, eventually the sun's rays takes it's toll on the lacquer and it fails.  Then the elements of nature take over and slowly oxidize the aluminum.  In order to polish an Airstream back to it's original shine, you need to first strip the clear coat and then buff the aluminum with various grits of polish until it's smoothed to a mirror shine.

That's the theory anyway.

There are lots of videos online about polishing and there seems to be different tricks of the trade.  I went with the Nuvite NuShine process... a series of three polishes ranging from coarse to fine.

My research of the process indicated that a good estimate for the required effort is 10 hours per linear foot of trailer.  Since the Safari 22 is 19 feet long, that means after 190 hours I should be finished.

190 hours?  That's about a month of 8 hours per day, 5 days per week, work weeks!  Surely that couldn't be correct... could it?

You know, I think that could be a good estimate, if you were to really get every nook and cranny, every rivet, every surface to shine like new.  If you were to pay someone to do it, I bet it would be a $3,000+ proposition.  It's that much work.

Well, over several weekends I was able to get through the coarse and medium grit courses of polish and I think it looked much better.  It's not perfect but it's much improved.

Here's before...

And here's after... although it still needs a lot of work.

You might notice that I also replaced the AIRSTREAM logo plates on the front and back.  That was a huge improvement too.  Hopefully they will hold up to the weather.

Now the trailer is safely tucked into it's RV storage spot and I've got my driveway back for a little while.

Two down... Lord knows how many to go

I'm a pretty handy guy, as you might assume from my nom de guerre.  I suppose you could say that what I lack in capability I make up for in inexperience.  I'm willing to try 'most anything, especially if I can buy a tool as part of the project.

Faced with the daunting tasks ahead of me with my "new" Safari, I decided to tackle two fairly straightforward projects so I could build some confidence.

The first was simply to replace the original manual tongue jack used to lift the trailer off the tow vehicle ball.  Technically it worked but it required a good bit of effort and the Marvel coupler is finicky so it has to be held while you lift the jack.

The nice thing about a small-to-midsize Airstream like the Safari is the tongue weight is under 500 lbs.  It's very easy to find a capable electric jack to run off the trailer's 12V system.  Exactly how many seasons it will hold up remains to be seen.

The original jack was held on with three bolts screwed directly into the Marvel coupler and an A-frame support plate.  It took a bit of effort but I eventually broke it loose.

Reinstalling the new jack was just as easy, although I had to wire in the 12V lead into the battery so I could power the unit.  While I was at it, I decided to cut away the old rusted safety chains and install new 5,000b rated cables.  The new set up looks great.

I was pretty pleased with myself.  This Airstream stuff was going to be a piece of cake... or so I thought.

Then I realized the lights inside the trailer wouldn't work. What the %&*#?  How could one little 10 gauge wire screw up the lights inside the trailer?

Did I trip the 30 amp breaker on the battery terminal?  No.  Hmmm.  Time for a crash course in 1961 Airstream wiring.

This era of models had a two-wire 110-120V shore power system along with a one-wire 12V system  The ground for the 12V system is the trailer frame and anything metal connected to it - like the shell.

The PO told me that there were two wiring bundles in the front bulkhead under the dinette table.  The one on the curbside was for the trailer tow wiring harness / cable.  The one on the street-side was the "main".  Someday I will take out the inside of the trailer, redo the floors and rewire everything the way I want it.

A little poking around with my electrical multi-meter revealed that I didn't have a good ground.  Then I realized that one of the bolts on the safety chains must have been my main ground wire for the system.  I found the severed wire and reconnected it to the new bolts I installed and everything came to life... including my new tongue jack.

My second project was a little more daunting, because if I screwed it up it would cost me dearly.

This model Airstream has an "astradome" or a long rectangular skylight that lets light in and lifts up to allow air (and bugs) in.   The astradome in my trailer was cracked and "old".  I don't know if it was original but it was definitely in need of replacement.  Not only did it look like crap, it also leaked water when it rained.

The PO had purchased a replacement and all I needed was to install it.  However, that meant I needed to find a way to repair the lifters, seal the dome when seated and attach the cover to the lifters in the exactly the right spot.  The "daunting" part was the plastic dome costs $150 - so I only had one shot to get it right.

One of the lifters for the dome worked fairly well but the other one was shot.  Fortunately the PO left me the old roof vents that used the same lifters so I was able to scavenge one to use for the other side.  It took some time but I got them both cleaned up and working smoothly.

Originally the vent was secured to the lifters with rivets but I decided to use stainless steel bolts with lock nuts.  After measuring three or four times, I drilled the six holes into the Lexan cover and from then on I was "committed".

It turned out great.  A long strip of 5/8" thick weather stripping fills the gap between the cover and the opening.

Having vs. Wanting

I'm a big Star Trek fan, the original Star Trek, that is.  Even though the series predates me slightly, I still find the TV show a huge attraction.  There's a classic episode entitled "Amok Time" where Spock is driven impulsively to return to the planet Vulcan to marry his betrothed.  Unbeknownst to him, his bride-to-be preferred another man and upon the conclusion of the episode Spock revealed to his rival, "After a time, you may find that having is not so pleasing a thing after all as wanting. It is not logical, but it is often true."

What does that have to do with Airstreams, you wonder?  Well, after having our new old Airstream taking up two and a half spots in the driveway, I started to feel a little panicked deep down inside.  "Oh my, what have I done?"

I reassured myself that we had less invested in the trailer than we would suffer in depreciation if we bought a new truck and drove it off the lot.  "It's only money", I reassured myself.

And besides, it's actually pretty neat.  I have found that there are two kinds of trailers out there... those that are complete wrecks that need to be gutted and those that were complete wrecks and have been restored.  It's very rare that a 50+ year old trailer survives fairly intact.

But don't take my word for it, check out these pictures for yourself as I give you the nickel tour.

The left side of the trailer is called the "curbside" and from this angle you can see that it's been quite a while since the aluminum skin has seen a polishing bonnet.  There are some ghosted numbers of the WBCCI dating back to the 1960's.  The box behind the two propane tanks is for the 12V battery.  It takes a special tractor battery and doesn't have the oomph of a modern gel cell.  Someday I'll remove the battery from this location and put it inside after I update the electrical system.

This trailer was built in the era of the "door within the door" design so there's an outer door that can be opened to reveal a screen inside.  The little hatch next to the door is the refrigerator access panel.  The larger door to the rear is for accessing the storage and electrical "shore power" cable.

The back of the trailer has a spare tire mounted to the bumper.  I kind of like this look, although it blocks the license plate holder.  Some people also frown on extending weight off the back of the trailer - as it could contribute to sway while towing.  Maybe someday I'll move it forward.

The original LPG-powered Dometic refrigerator is still onboard.  No idea if it works, the propane system is not connected.

From the back looking forward, you can see the galley and front dinette.  The table collapses and you can arrange the cushions into a "double" bed.  You need to be Hobbit-sized to call it a double though.

From the galley aft you can see the two twin bunks and the bath at the rear.  The trailer is only about 7.5 ft wide so there's room enough to move around but it's a bit cozy.  The water heater is underneath the bunk on the right.

The bathroom is "efficient"... apparently you can literally shit, shower, and shave all at the same time.

Back in the kitchen area, the original stove and oven is also in place.  Like the fridge, I have no idea if it works or not.

That's about it.  I'll save some of the finer details for future posts.

There is a LOT of work that needs to be done to this trailer.  None of the plumbing works, there is very little 120V lighting, none of the appliances work, and the outside needs a lot of TLC as well.  Looking at all that is ahead of me I have to agree with Spock, sometimes wanting is better than having.

And so it begins...

I don't know what it is about old Airstreams that captivates so many people.  Maybe it's how they harken back to an earlier time, maybe even an easier time or at least a time that most people view as less complicated.

In any event, my foray in the field of vintage Airstreams began a few months ago with a Safari 22 that was parked across the street from my church and my daughter's school.

Everyday I drove my pre-teen daughter to 7th grade and listened to "I'm tired, I don't want to go to school, yada yada yada" and then I would see it, sitting next to a house across the street... an old, somewhat beat up Airstream camper with a green "For Sale" sign in the window.  It beckoned to me.

I wondered what it looked like inside.  Would my wife like it?  Would should she let me get it?  Where would I put it?

To my surprise, when I mentioned seeing it to my wife, she said, "Let's go see it" and I didn't even have to pester her until she gave in.

We called the number and arranged to take a look at it one Saturday.  It turns out the seller, aka "the PO" in Airstream parlance for "previous owner", was a nice couple with two young kids.  They were getting ready to move and putting their house on the market.  The trailer was an unfinished project and, with mixed emotions they were trying to sell the Airstream so they had "one less thing" to worry about moving.

It took a couple of days to think it over, but my wife and I were allured by the thought of one day touring the countryside - sans offspring - and the potential to wake up in a forest somewhere, beside a babbling brook, listening to whippoorwill's while we drank our morning coffee.  Ah, sweet serenity...

Anyway, the price was a goldilocks special... not too high and not too low, just right.  Of course, in hindsight we broke the cardinal rule of Airstream purchases..."never buy the first one you see".  But how many 1960 Airstream Safari's are out there to look at, anyway?

Turns out, not as many as you would think - because eventually I learned that despite my PA-issued title, this Airstream Safari is a 1961 model.  Go figure.

Putting aside the year of manufacture, this little diamond in the rough was all mine (uh, ours.  Sorry, honey.).