My wife made an offer on a house in New Zealand while vacationing there with her family a few years ago. She is a realtor, and not an impulsive person, so I did not object, especially after she mentioned that it had a four-car garage. I was a bit apprehensive on the flight over though, wondering what we were getting ourselves into.
A couple of hours after arrival, we were driving up a lush green hill, overlooking the ocean on a beautiful warm summer day—in January. The seasons are reversed here. We wound up and around and came to a park in which there were six or seven Jowett Javelins and Jupiters along with a couple of tiny Bradford trucks also built by Jowett. I asked the cabbie to stop, and walked over to a red 1951 Jupiter to get a closer look. I had only ever seen pictures of them.
An older gentleman introduced himself and his car. It turned out I was speaking to Major John Holloway, retired, from the British Army. He looked as if he were sent from central casting at a major film studio, with his handle bar moustache and his very upright military bearing. He told me that he lived in town, and that his mates in the Jowett Car Club would be convening at the local pub that evening, and invited me to come up and hoist a pint or two with them.
I went back to the taxi thinking, “This place might just work out.” And then, as we went further up the hill, five World War II era AT6 Harvard trainers flew over in formation and started doing synchronized loops over the bay. At that point I thought, “This is a great country!” And then when we drove up to the new house, my wife was waiting to show me the view from our living room window. When I saw it I said this is a fantastic country. And we’ve been going there for the American winter ever since.
But back to the Major as everyone called him—and his Jowett Jupiter. I fought off the jet lag and hitched a ride to the pub that evening. Holloway introduced me around, and then we had a chat. Turns out he had been a paratrooper in the British Army, and when he retired, he missed the adrenaline rush of throwing himself out of airplanes, so he decided to try his hand at racing. He campaigned a Jaguar XK120 for a few years, and then sold that and bought the Jowett.
He and his mate Neil Moore, also present, had been racing together all over New Zealand in classic events for years, and were having a great time. I knocked back a pint in order to get up the courage to ask the Major if I could have a spin in his Jupiter. I told him who I was, and for whom I worked, and at that he agreed to let me take his speedy steed for a spin.
It was an ideal situation because noted automotive photographer David Gooley, who was also in New Zealand on vacation, came along with me. A couple of days later we met the Major at the park and he took me for a jaunt through the surrounding hills to show me what this vintage sports car could do in capable hands. I was duly impressed. He knew right where to put it, where to brake, and when to step on it.
Then it was my turn. Holloway had a big grin on his face, as if to say, “now let’s see what you can do,” as he handed me the keys. The Jupiter sits vary low, and I have to bend down to reach the door handle. You don’t climb into a Jupiter. You slip it on like a boot. But once down in the car, its bench seat is roomy and comfortable, if a bit upright. The dash has a full array of easy to read, business-like Smiths gauges.
I twist the key and hit the starter. The engine coughs to life and settles into an idle with a somewhat agricultural sound. But it revs freely when you give it a bit of petrol as they say here. I pull it into gear and we are off. The column shift is on the left side of the steering wheel, which is surprising, but shifting is tight and precise, making quick gear changes pretty easy. Steering is rack and pinion, with two and a half turns lock to lock, so the Jupiter is very responsive, though not twitchy.
Braking is good thanks to the car’s Girling, dual-bore master cylinder, large drum brakes and weight of only 2,121 pounds. The major’s Jupiter has torsion bar suspension all around, and he has it set up very well for brisk cornering. The front suspension torsion bars are longitudinal and the rears are transverse across the car.
After a few tentative turns, I pick up the pace and get a bit more daring. The major is not impressed. He says, “Go ahead and put the spurs to her.” I follow orders, and the little red sports car sticks to the road in the corners without a hop or bobble. I attribute this to the car’s very low profile, its lightweight tubular chassis and its overhead valve, all aluminum flat-four, boxer engine set down low in the front suspension.
Both engine and transmission are mounted down into the frame, and the driveshaft is actually above the bottom, steel tube frame rails until it meets a universal joint amidships on the way back to the differential. Because of their unique configuration, post-war Jowetts were built upside down on the assembly line until it was time to add the body.
Holloway’s car has been tricked out for racing. Its engine has been punched out to 1,640-cc from its stock 1,496-cc displacement and as a result, when encouraged, it makes a raspy, throaty roar and puts you back in your seat. Holloway has also added a fiberglass hood and fenders to make the car lighter, and so he could preserve its original tin bonnet in pristine condition.
Jowett Jupiters are a mélange of cutting edge technology and ancient anachronisms, as are many British cars of the era. If something worked, the British usually stayed with it. For example, the dashboard is just that…a wooden board. It’s handsome enough, but typical of a car from the teens rather than from the 1950s.
Also, its engine is a derivative of an ancient, flat, two-cylinder motor the company started building in 1906 that was used to power generators, as well as small cars and trucks before World War II. The engine does not have a water pump, but relies on thermosiphoning for cooling. The water passages are generous, and the radiator sits up and behind the engine. As the coolant water gets hot, it rises up into the radiator and then trickles down and cools before returning to the engine.
Early Model T Fords and World War I Renault taxis, in Paris, were designed this way too, as were early Bull Dog Mack trucks; but most manufacturers went to water pumps and radiators up front by the 1920s. I must say though, the system is simple, and the car did not overheat while we were flogging it through the hills.
The Major says that this peculiar engine arrangement has caused some confusion in service stations though, because pump jockeys who were not familiar with the car have taken the oil filler cap off at the front of the crankcase to add water, thinking it is the radiator.
The Jowett brothers, Benjamin and William, along with Arthur B. Lamb began manufacturing two-cylinder engines for motorcycle and industrial purposes, in 1901, in Bradford, West Riding, which is in Yorkshire, England, and in 1904 they registered as the Jowett Motor Company. Their engines were well designed and rugged, and some of them found their way into various makes of cars of the time.
The company built their first complete car, in 1906, but most of the firm’s time was occupied with their industrial and motorcycle engines, so they didn’t get into full production on the car until 1910. The little machine was powered by an adapted version of their little 816-cc industrial engines, and sold reasonably well. But then World War l came along and the company was entirely given over to producing utility engines for the military.
After World War I, Jowett resumed making light cars and vans with whimsical names like: Weasel, Kestrel, Plover and Peregrine, that sold reasonably well into the 1930s, with sales of about 3,500 being a good year for them. And then, in 1935, the brothers retired, and Charles Colcott Reilly took over. Soon after that, World War ll came along, in 1939, and again the factory was turned over to war production.
The company grew exponentially in order to provide the Admiralty with Jowett flat-twin generator motors. It grew to 2,000 employees, working three shifts to meet demand. And, as the war started to turn in Britain’s favor with the entry of the United States in 1941, Colcott began thinking about what the post-war situation might look like. He guessed correctly that Britain would be facing some lean years, and that his best option was to try for the export market— mainly to the United States.
He hired Gerald Palmer away from MG to develop the forerunner of the Jupiter called the Javelin. The post-war Javelin, a swoopy six-passenger saloon, was their main project, and the Jupiter sports car was derived from it. The Javelin looked like an updated smaller version of the contemporary Lincoln Zephyr sedan, with a tall pointy nose and tapered fastback rear end. It is actually a rather handsome small car. Briggs Motor Bodies built the unitized bodies for the Javelins, and later the Jupiters.
The Javelin’s engine was an enlarged and updated version of the same basic power plant that the company had been building all along. It was a 1496-cc, four-cylinder, opposed, overhead valve design with an aluminum crankcase. It sat low in the chassis and used the same torsion bar front suspension that was later adapted to the Jupiter. This made for a roomier passenger compartment and good handling characteristics. Also, the Javelin’s tall, rugged suspension was ideal for Britain’s rough rural roads.
The Javelin debuted on a rainy day in the 1946 Motoring Cavalcade around London. Initially sales and production were slow. A few Javelins were built, mostly for the U.S. market. But the Jupiter was already on the drawing boards, and there were high hopes for the future. After all, if MG’s pre-war TC could sell well in the States, surely a refined modern post-war sports car would be a sensation.
By the time a Javelin sedan won its class in the 1949 Monte Carlo Rally, professor Robert Eberan von Eberhorst had been hired, and was already putting the finishing touches on the new Jupiter roadster. Eberhorst had designed the pre-war Auto Union D Grand Prix racers, and would go on to create the Aston Martin DB3S and later become part of the Ford GT40 program.
Jowett’s new Jupiter was low and swoopy, with a tapered rear end, and was rather well-appointed for a sports car, with its roll up windows and exterior door handles. However, the windshield was removable for racing. In fact, a Jupiter won its class in the 1950 Le Mans 24-hours the first time it was campaigned.
It then went on to win the 1951 Lisbon Rally outright, and again won its class at Le Mans in 1951. And finally the later sports racing Jupiter R-1 repeated the win in 1952.
The Jupiter was available in both left and right-hand drive, and was advertised in the U.S. using such catchy phrases as, “British engineering brains have built a record breaker,” and “Can you really handle a European race-bred car?” Road and Track reported 0-60 mph in 15 seconds, a top speed of 90 mph and 24-28 mpg. And the Jupiter turned out to be very competitive in 1500-cc racing, though it was also comfortable for daily drives with its big windshield attached and its roll up windows.
So why isn’t the Jowett Jupiter as well known and revered today as MG, Triumph, Sunbeam and Jaguar? The answer is that Jowett was small potatoes in the British auto industry, which was abundant with small potatoes, and did not have the economy of scale that other carmakers did. Also, the Jupiter was more of a touring car than the MGs and the Triumphs of the time, and was much better appointed, so its selling price of U.S.$2,900 was perilously close to that of the legendary Jaguar XK120.
It boasts an iconic styling, dual overhead cam, six-cylinder engine and legendary race winning reputation. Jowett built the Jupiter from 1950 through 1954, and John Holloway’s is a 1951 model SA (S being for sports and A indicating the first series models). The chassis number on his car is 454 R with the R indicating that it is a right-hand drive version intended for Commonwealth countries.
The K 1A second series cars of 1952 added a trunk lid for access, but Major Holloway’s 454 R only has a small opening at the rear for the spare tire. There is, however, a fair amount of storage in the rear that can be accessed from behind the seat
Three lighter sports racers were also built between 1951 and 1952 and one of these won its first race at Watkins Glen, in 1951. Though the Jupiters were competitive on the track, they just didn’t catch on in the United States, and neither did the rather handsome Javelin sedan. Americans mostly wanted big comfortable cars for daily use, but would usually opt for an MG or Triumph if they wanted to go hay bail racing. However, if they could afford more, they generally chose a Jaguar or an Alfa Romeo.
Sadly, Jowett ran into difficulty securing Javelin bodies from Briggs in 1953, and the company was eventually sold to International Harvester, who used the plant to make tractors until 1980. The last effort to save Jowett came in 1954 when a fiberglass-bodied Jupiter R-4 was offered with overdrive and a top speed of 100 mph. Unfortunately only three were built.
After our test drive around the Coromandel Peninsula which looks a lot like Big Sur in California, we put the major’s Jowett away and stuffed ourselves into my 1966 Morris Minor and retired to the pub to listen to his tales of daring do, throwing himself out of airplanes in South East Asia, and then retiring to New Zealand to take up racing at such famous New Zealand circuits as Pukekohe near Auckland, Bruce McLaren Motorsport Park in Taupo, and Teretonga in Invercargill on the south island.
Unfortunately, Major John Holloway passed away a couple of years ago, and his Jowett went with his eldest son back home to England. The Major, as he was known in the Town of Tairua where he lived, added a welcome dash of glamor and excitement to this laid back leisurely resort community, and he is sorely missed, as is his red Jupiter, ripping and rumbling along the Ocean Beach Road around sunset.
1951 JOWETT JUPITER SPECIFICATIONS
ENGINE
Type — Horizontally-opposed OHV pushrod four, alloy block and pistons, cast-iron cross flow heads
Displacement — 1,486cc (90-cu.in.)
Bore x stroke — 72.5 x 90mm
Compression ratio — 8.0:11:1
Horsepower @ RPM — 60.5 @ 4,500
Torque @ RPM — 84-lbs.ft. @ 3,000
Main bearings — 3
Fuel system — Twin Zenith 30 VIG 5 double downdraft carburetors, SU electric fuel pump
Ignition system — 12-volt, Lucas centrifugal advance distributor
Lubrication system — Pressure, gear pump
Exhaust system — Single, cast-iron manifold
TRANSMISSION
Type — Column-shift four-speed, synchromesh on top three, Borg & Beck single dry-plate clutch
Ratios:
1st — 3.56:1
2nd — 2.17:1
3rd — 1.37:1
4th — 1.00:1
Reverse — 3.56:1
DIFFERENTIAL
Type — Semi-floating Salisbury 3HA hypoid bevel drive
Ratio — 4.56:1
STEERING
Type — Helical rack and pinion
Turns, lock-to-lock — 2.5
Turning circle — 31/32 feet L/R
BRAKES
Type — Twin circuit, two leading-shoe nine-inch Girling hydraulic drums
Front/rear — 8.5 x 1.5-inch shoes
CHASSIS & BODY
Construction — Alloy body on steel tube chassis
Body style — 2-3-passenger convertible
Layout — Front engine, rear-wheel drive
SUSPENSION
Front — Independent: double wishbones and longitudinal torsion bars, telescopic dampers
Rear — Live axle, transverse torsion bars and parallel arms, telescopic dampers
Wheels — Perforated pressed-steel, five-lug
Front/rear — 16 x 4.00 inches
Tires — Goodyear Deluxe
Front/rear — 16 x 5.50 inches
WEIGHTS & MEASUREMENTS
Wheelbase — 93 inches
Overall length — 168 inches
Overall width — 56 inches
Overall height — 62 inches
Front track — 52 inches
Rear track — 50.5 inches
Curb weight — 2,121 pounds
CAPACITIES
Crankcase — 5 quarts
Cooling system — 8.5 quarts
Fuel tank — 12 gallons
Transmission — 1 pint
Rear axle — 2.5 pints
CALCULATED DATA
Bhp per liter — 40.7
Weight per bhp — 35.1 pounds
Weight per c.i.d. — 23.6 pounds
PERFORMANCE
0-60 MPH — 15.3 seconds*
1/4 mile — ET 20.7 seconds**
Top speed — 93 MPH
PRICE WHEN NEW
Base price $3,900
