Classic Jensen GT
The Jensen GT had a Lotus lump under the bonnet, reminding us of our sporting heritage.
By Jasper Gerard 08 June 2010 • 16:15 pm
The Jensen-Healey displayed no cute curves associated with British sports cars
Jensen is pure Roger Moore. Its headlights should really come with eyebrows, to be arched sardonically if rival sports cars had the temerity to overtake.
You can picture him delving into the breast pocket of his Savile Row suit for a revolver and Hamlet cigar, while furtively checking his quiff in the mirror: he was always a bit camp and even a notch wimpy, our Rog.
And yes, before you write to say "Don't you realise The Saint drove a Volvo P1800?" I point out, respectfully, that the celebrated low‑slung Swedish kerb crawler was bodied by Jensen in West Bromwich.
Healey was a very different beast. On a date a Jensen might take a young woman to the then stylish restaurant atop the Post Office Tower.
Later it would drive her home, awaiting an invitation for coffee. The Healey, by contrast, would assume "foreplay" to be a function on its new stereo system.
So Jensen-Healey should have been one of the happiest automotive courtships since Mr Rolls met Mr Royce.
Gambit should have driven one in The New Avengers, not to mention Rog in The Persuaders.
Jensen was acclaimed for the brilliant Interceptor, while Healey was a throaty, nostalgic reminder of our sporting heritage.
But like many distinguished marriages, there were more than two in it. Not only was it all Lotus under the bonnet, it was conceived by a Norwegian-American, Kjell Qvale, who sold British marques stateside.
The Jensen-Healey displayed no cute curves associated with British sports cars. It was hard-nosed, square-jawed and unmistakably of the age.
Seats could even be ordered in paisley. As well as the open version there was a shooting brake, a sports car doubling as an estate, foreshadowing today's cars.
It is just such a GT that I try in dark blue. With a slick Getrag gear change and lightning acceleration, there is little to remind you this is an estate, until your daughter announces she is car sick.
True, rust was a problem, there are a few vestiges of the BL parts bin and some might feel the cloth interior takes Seventies authenticity a little far. But there are also surprises such as wooden cubbyholes that are clearly hand-built.
Alas, strikes and rising oil prices killed it before it hit the fast lane: fewer than 100 grace Britain's roads. And if it's cool enough for a Saint, it's fun enough for a sinner like me.
• www.jensenhealey.com
• www.roberthughes.co.uk