It was a Friday evening in January and I was on the phone with Steve, our nice guy Land Rover mechanic, asking for advice.
Earlier that day I had visited One-Stop Licensing, a business in Pietermaritzburg that will, for a fee, process the paperwork one needs to register a vehicle here in South Africa.
The manager at One-Stop informed me that the roadworthy designation for my partner’s Land Rover Defender – a certification by the government that marks the vehicle’s fitness for use on the road – had expired and that the vehicle would have to be tested again before I could register it.
The prospect of taking the Land Rover through roadworthy testing summoned the spirit of Sisyphus. The vehicle passed in November because Steve had persuaded the inspector that the ease with which the key pulls free of the ignition while the engine runs has nothing to do with the vehicle’s worthiness for the road.
Steve had relayed the incident while giving me a ride home in the Land Rover. “You see,” he said, yanking the key from the ignition while we headed down the road at about 50 mph. The engine continued to run as if nothing had happened “Still, we were lucky the inspector didn’t fail us for it,” Steve added. “Replacing the ignition switch costs a few hundred dollars.”
Now I had to submit anew to the ordeal but this time Steve would not be there when the inspector tugged on the key. I would be there, trying to explain the key, the door that hangs a few degrees off alignment or whatever else the inspector might flag.
I didn’t dare ask Steve to handle the roadworthy again. He had obtained the certification. My partner and I allowed it to expire. The next attempt would be mine. “Tell them you’re an American and you didn’t realize the roadworthy certificate lasts for just 60 days,” Steve counseled. “Plead ignorance and offer to pay the fee again.”
Though Steve’s advice might be my only hope, the certification’s lapsing left me feeling deflated. Every vehicle sold in South Africa needs to pass a roadworthy examination before it can be registered. My partner and I had been readying the Land Rover for two months in anticipation of registration, which confers a little round disc that you display in your windshield, similar to the decal many U.S. states issue to vehicles that pass inspection.
The preparation included a series of repairs. Three of the Land Rover’s tires lacked the millimeter of tread the government requires. The brakes gripped lightly, the engine smelled of oil and white smoke poured from the tailpipe when you accelerated.
That did not presage roadworthy even if it might be expected on a vehicle that has logged about 160,000 miles. Thankfully a friend had connected us with Steve, who specializes in modifying, repairing and building up vehicles that operate in the bush.
Steve lives in a sprawling house with a thatched roof and a garage that contains contain an assortment of off-road vehicles and an agglomeration of auto parts. A black German shepherd and a brown Siberian husky preside over the premises, barking at visitors until the gate rolls open and the dogs determine that you’ve come in peace.
When I first brought the Land Rover to Steve’s place, he and his assistant examined the engine, wheels, brakes and suspension. They flipped up the driver’s seat to reveal a computer underneath and a bundle of wires that connect the computer to the goings-on beneath the hood.
After an hour of probing parts, sniffing smoke, measuring the brakes and running their fingers across a layer of oil that coated much of the engine, Steve delivered his diagnosis. “The vehicle’s going to need some work if it is to have any chance of passing roadworthy,” he said.
The repairs took place over the six weeks that followed. Whenever my partner and I could spare the Land Rover for a few days we delivered it to Steve, who worked on it off and on through the end of October. By then he had:
- Replaced the injector harness
- Replaced the cover gasket and cleaned the lower engine loom
- Replaced the cam seal
- Replaced the airflow meter (the Land Rover has a diesel engine)
- Replaced the front brake discs
- Replaced the front and rear brake pads
- Replaced the rear stabilizer rubbers
- Replaced three tie rod boots
- Replaced four tires
Steve changed the air, oil, fuel and rotor filters, and drained and replaced the engine oil. He also checked the differential fluid, the oil in the gearbox, the water in the radiator, the fluid in the power steering and the belts.
In early November, Steve took the Land Rover to the testing center. Twice. The first time an inspector failed the vehicle because the stalk that activates the bright lights failed to trigger them. Steve called in an electrician to get the lights working. The test involving the key that falls from the ignition followed.
Finally we had a certificate of roadworthiness and, I thought, three months to register the vehicle. That felt like forever. We celebrated Thanksgiving. We worked, went to Cape Town, busied ourselves over the holidays and later headed to Namibia.
Then suddenly it seemed like time to register the vehicle. Off I went to One-Stop, with a few forms in hand, a day left on roadworthy and my partner, whose signature and passport the place needed, out of the country.
We had run out of time.
The provincial government publishes a spreadsheet that lists the locations of testing stations. I consulted the list, resolved to show up at the PMB Roadworthy Centre with my $30 (U.S.) fee and steeled myself for the scrutiny I imagined would follow.
Then Steve called. “Come by early on Monday,” he said. “We’ll pressure clean the engine and the underside of the vehicle. I have a plan.”