It all began in the summer of 2005. I’d been googling for used diesel vehicles with decent gas mileage that are available in the US. My searches led me to VW Jetta TDIs, Reagan-era Mercedes 240D, and, to my surprise, Landcruisers. (Full-size domestic diesel pickups get mileage too poor for my consideration, and Jeep Liberty CRDs were and are too new and expensive for me). I wanted 4wd and something big enough to fit all my possessions, so the BJ and HJ 60-series ‘cruisers began to look awfully tempting. Reading about them in this forum and elsewhere sealed the deal: I was going to get a cruiser for sure, it was just a matter of looking for good deal.
Of course, BJ60s don’t pop up for sale too often in the US and when they do there’s usually a premium for domestic registration. So I widened my search to include Canadian cruisers. Mostly, I checked Craigslist and eBay Motors. In the summer of 2006 I got a little more serious with my search. I sent some emails, made some offers and bids. Then, in late July I spotted a cruiser on ebay that looked especially promising. It already had most of the mods I was interested in. Since I’m not a mechanic and don’t have a garage or tools, I figured it would be best to buy a cruiser requiring minimal modification.
The cruiser in question was a ’83 BJ60 with around 170K miles located in Victoria Island, BC. It has ARB air lockers front and rear, a Kaymar rear bumber with jerry can and tire carriers, a bulbar, a winch, and a little bit of lift. The chief downsides were cosmetic: ugly OD green paint and the usual Canadian rust. However, I was assured by the seller that the mechanicals were totally sound, so I bid to win. It didn’t meet the reserve, but since I was the high bidder, the seller got in touch and we made a deal: $7500 USD.
So, as soon as I could take some time from work I flew up to BC. The seller met me at the ferry from Vancouver to Victoria and took me back to his house/B&B. It was already late, and because the cruiser was at the seller’s mechanic’s place being checked over, I didn’t get to see it that night.
The next day, we drove to the shop to pick up the cruiser. One of the taillights was busted; this was a little disturbing, as I’d specifically asked that it be fixed, but I was there, so I took the keys and we finished up the paperwork.
My drive to the ferry was disconcerting. I was elated to finally have a BJ60 in my possession, but the truck performed worse than expected. The RPMs seemed too high, and the top speed too low. My first thought was that the 4wd light was busted, but the selector was definitely in the 2wd drive position. I even had a guy at a gas station shift from 2 to 4 and back while I looked under the car, and the linkage appeared to be moving properly. I called the seller to ask what was up. He suggested I check that the truck was in 2wd. When I told him I already had, he reminded me that these cars aren’t exactly peppy and assured me that the truck was fine.
I wanted to investigate further, but I had but to keep moving. I had to make the 2pm ferry to have any chance of reaching my registered importer before they closed at 5:00. I stuck to the back roads and drove slow, so I barely made it on time. The ferry was pleasant enough. Beautiful scenery, nice people. Crappy food, though….
So I get to the mainland and barely make to the my RI. I used Chevrolake Importers and, by the way, I definitely recommend them. Of course, many folks can and do import cruisers without the benefit of an RI, but it definitely helps with peace of mind. After we take care of the paperwork I drive to the border, wait in line for over an hour, and explain to a very skeptical customs officer that, yes, I am importing this old beast of a vehicle. I get through.
Here’s where my troubles begin. I stopped at a gas station near Blane, WA to buy a bottle of water. As I’m fishing through my backpack for change, I notice some smoke wisping out from under the hood. I think, ‘okay, just a little leaked oil burning up on some hot engine part.’ No problem. But I keep watching just to be sure. The finger of smoke doesn’t go away. Instead, it gets a little bigger. ****! I pop the hood and jump out of the car while tossing my luggage to the side. I open the hood to find flames licking up from the driver side battery. It’s hot, there are popping sounds. I’m close to panic. Fortunately, my cruiser was built up as a trail rig; there’s a 5lb fire extinguisher in the cab. I manage to put the electrical fire out completely within maybe 60 to 90 seconds from when I first saw the smoke. Some sound deadening insulation on the underside of the hood keeps smoldering until I use the gas station’s extinguisher to finish the job.
AAA, tow trucks, blah blah blah. Fortunately, I have friends in Bellingham, WA who put me up while I waited to hear about the cruiser. The repairs cost a little coin, but, amazingly, the damage was confined to a ruined battery and the wires leading into it. That little fire extinguisher saved my cruiser! (I have since become a proselytizer for fire extinguishers in cars.) The reason for the fire, it turns out, is a loose, unfused wire. Some time back the PO had pulled out the original AM stereo and his mechanic had forgotten to put a fuse on this wire. The wire shorted on the frame and caused the battery to burst into flame. Stupid!
So, apparently the PO’s mechanic did a bull**** job looking over the car. The short could have happened at any time—the PO dodged a bullet that ended up hitting me. I asked the guy who repaired the fire damage to look over the truck. He changed the engine belts and fixed the taillight that was busted. Didn’t have any bright ideas about the RPMs, but he gave the rest of the truck a green light.
He also recommended a transmission specialist: Barrett Transmission in Bellingham. I drove there talked to Brad Barrett who told me had owned an FJ60 in the past. He took mine on a spin around the parking lot and determined that the truck was stuck 4wd. I was happy to have a diagnosis, but not thrilled about the prospect of more repairs, costs, and delays.
Brad pulled the transmission. I don’t know transmissions, but Brad said it was possible that some selector pin had broken, which would be an easy fix. It was also possible that a gear had broken, which would be Bad News. The actual cause was that the 2wd gear was frozen to the shaft. Like, completely frozen. They couldn’t get it off to determine why it had frozen in the first place.
I catch a bus to Seattle, so I won’t have to continue imposing on my Bellingham friends. Bounce around there while Brad hunts for parts. He finds a replacement based on the numbers found on the pulled transmission, but after doing some additional internet research he determines that the this transmission wasn’t native to BJ60—it actually came from a 40-series. He cancels that order and calls up SOR. SOR has no BJ60 transmissions in stock. They have to order it from Japan. I can either wait for their semiannual sea shipment, or expedite it by air freight. I opt for the latter, even though it’s $300 extra. I go back to San Francisco, where I’m spending the summer. I wait. And wait some more. I call up SOR every few days to check the status of the shipment, but they always so ‘on its way.’ Finally, I talk to someone who puts together the alarming news that no one had actually expedited the shipment, it’s still scheduled for the big boat. They can expedite then and there, he says, but I tell him not to bother, since it won’t clear customs before I have to be back at school on the east coast.
Through the fall, I rode my bike a lot and learned to get by without a car. In December, the shipment finally arrived and Brad, who’s generously been storing my cruiser since the summer at his house in the country, made the repair. I shipped the car to Providence and have been using it ever since.
After all that, though, I have second thoughts about owning a cruiser. Obviously, some things didn’t go so well, and I will certainly never buy a car sight unseen in a foreign country again. But beyond that, I’ve realized that it’s unwise to fall in love with a 24 year old truck without the skills, tools, space, and money to repair it myself. I thought this would be a perfect excuse to learn how to service my own car, but now I just don’t see myself doing that. I don’t have the money for tools. I doubt I’ll ever have the space, since I’m moving to San Francisco at the end of the summer. And I no longer really have the inclination. I like the cruiser, but after all the trouble I’ve gone through to get to it, I’m no longer sure it’s right for me.
Of course, BJ60s don’t pop up for sale too often in the US and when they do there’s usually a premium for domestic registration. So I widened my search to include Canadian cruisers. Mostly, I checked Craigslist and eBay Motors. In the summer of 2006 I got a little more serious with my search. I sent some emails, made some offers and bids. Then, in late July I spotted a cruiser on ebay that looked especially promising. It already had most of the mods I was interested in. Since I’m not a mechanic and don’t have a garage or tools, I figured it would be best to buy a cruiser requiring minimal modification.
The cruiser in question was a ’83 BJ60 with around 170K miles located in Victoria Island, BC. It has ARB air lockers front and rear, a Kaymar rear bumber with jerry can and tire carriers, a bulbar, a winch, and a little bit of lift. The chief downsides were cosmetic: ugly OD green paint and the usual Canadian rust. However, I was assured by the seller that the mechanicals were totally sound, so I bid to win. It didn’t meet the reserve, but since I was the high bidder, the seller got in touch and we made a deal: $7500 USD.
So, as soon as I could take some time from work I flew up to BC. The seller met me at the ferry from Vancouver to Victoria and took me back to his house/B&B. It was already late, and because the cruiser was at the seller’s mechanic’s place being checked over, I didn’t get to see it that night.
The next day, we drove to the shop to pick up the cruiser. One of the taillights was busted; this was a little disturbing, as I’d specifically asked that it be fixed, but I was there, so I took the keys and we finished up the paperwork.
My drive to the ferry was disconcerting. I was elated to finally have a BJ60 in my possession, but the truck performed worse than expected. The RPMs seemed too high, and the top speed too low. My first thought was that the 4wd light was busted, but the selector was definitely in the 2wd drive position. I even had a guy at a gas station shift from 2 to 4 and back while I looked under the car, and the linkage appeared to be moving properly. I called the seller to ask what was up. He suggested I check that the truck was in 2wd. When I told him I already had, he reminded me that these cars aren’t exactly peppy and assured me that the truck was fine.
I wanted to investigate further, but I had but to keep moving. I had to make the 2pm ferry to have any chance of reaching my registered importer before they closed at 5:00. I stuck to the back roads and drove slow, so I barely made it on time. The ferry was pleasant enough. Beautiful scenery, nice people. Crappy food, though….
So I get to the mainland and barely make to the my RI. I used Chevrolake Importers and, by the way, I definitely recommend them. Of course, many folks can and do import cruisers without the benefit of an RI, but it definitely helps with peace of mind. After we take care of the paperwork I drive to the border, wait in line for over an hour, and explain to a very skeptical customs officer that, yes, I am importing this old beast of a vehicle. I get through.
Here’s where my troubles begin. I stopped at a gas station near Blane, WA to buy a bottle of water. As I’m fishing through my backpack for change, I notice some smoke wisping out from under the hood. I think, ‘okay, just a little leaked oil burning up on some hot engine part.’ No problem. But I keep watching just to be sure. The finger of smoke doesn’t go away. Instead, it gets a little bigger. ****! I pop the hood and jump out of the car while tossing my luggage to the side. I open the hood to find flames licking up from the driver side battery. It’s hot, there are popping sounds. I’m close to panic. Fortunately, my cruiser was built up as a trail rig; there’s a 5lb fire extinguisher in the cab. I manage to put the electrical fire out completely within maybe 60 to 90 seconds from when I first saw the smoke. Some sound deadening insulation on the underside of the hood keeps smoldering until I use the gas station’s extinguisher to finish the job.
AAA, tow trucks, blah blah blah. Fortunately, I have friends in Bellingham, WA who put me up while I waited to hear about the cruiser. The repairs cost a little coin, but, amazingly, the damage was confined to a ruined battery and the wires leading into it. That little fire extinguisher saved my cruiser! (I have since become a proselytizer for fire extinguishers in cars.) The reason for the fire, it turns out, is a loose, unfused wire. Some time back the PO had pulled out the original AM stereo and his mechanic had forgotten to put a fuse on this wire. The wire shorted on the frame and caused the battery to burst into flame. Stupid!
So, apparently the PO’s mechanic did a bull**** job looking over the car. The short could have happened at any time—the PO dodged a bullet that ended up hitting me. I asked the guy who repaired the fire damage to look over the truck. He changed the engine belts and fixed the taillight that was busted. Didn’t have any bright ideas about the RPMs, but he gave the rest of the truck a green light.
He also recommended a transmission specialist: Barrett Transmission in Bellingham. I drove there talked to Brad Barrett who told me had owned an FJ60 in the past. He took mine on a spin around the parking lot and determined that the truck was stuck 4wd. I was happy to have a diagnosis, but not thrilled about the prospect of more repairs, costs, and delays.
Brad pulled the transmission. I don’t know transmissions, but Brad said it was possible that some selector pin had broken, which would be an easy fix. It was also possible that a gear had broken, which would be Bad News. The actual cause was that the 2wd gear was frozen to the shaft. Like, completely frozen. They couldn’t get it off to determine why it had frozen in the first place.
I catch a bus to Seattle, so I won’t have to continue imposing on my Bellingham friends. Bounce around there while Brad hunts for parts. He finds a replacement based on the numbers found on the pulled transmission, but after doing some additional internet research he determines that the this transmission wasn’t native to BJ60—it actually came from a 40-series. He cancels that order and calls up SOR. SOR has no BJ60 transmissions in stock. They have to order it from Japan. I can either wait for their semiannual sea shipment, or expedite it by air freight. I opt for the latter, even though it’s $300 extra. I go back to San Francisco, where I’m spending the summer. I wait. And wait some more. I call up SOR every few days to check the status of the shipment, but they always so ‘on its way.’ Finally, I talk to someone who puts together the alarming news that no one had actually expedited the shipment, it’s still scheduled for the big boat. They can expedite then and there, he says, but I tell him not to bother, since it won’t clear customs before I have to be back at school on the east coast.
Through the fall, I rode my bike a lot and learned to get by without a car. In December, the shipment finally arrived and Brad, who’s generously been storing my cruiser since the summer at his house in the country, made the repair. I shipped the car to Providence and have been using it ever since.
After all that, though, I have second thoughts about owning a cruiser. Obviously, some things didn’t go so well, and I will certainly never buy a car sight unseen in a foreign country again. But beyond that, I’ve realized that it’s unwise to fall in love with a 24 year old truck without the skills, tools, space, and money to repair it myself. I thought this would be a perfect excuse to learn how to service my own car, but now I just don’t see myself doing that. I don’t have the money for tools. I doubt I’ll ever have the space, since I’m moving to San Francisco at the end of the summer. And I no longer really have the inclination. I like the cruiser, but after all the trouble I’ve gone through to get to it, I’m no longer sure it’s right for me.
For the cruiser lover in me, I hope so. We all feel like we're making martyrs out of our rigs here sometimes, myself included.
