Sitting smug inside the long, louvered hood is a sublime 7668cc inline six rated at about 110 horsepower. Not much perhaps, but the magic of inexhaustible cubic capacity is something to be experienced all right. The engine whispers instead of revving and it’s more relaxed than a three-toed sloth during siesta time. Yet, it’s a grand tourer in the surest sense of the term. The Continental has been designed to swallow distances without stress and in fact the fuel tank has enough capacity to get from England to the south of France without tanking up along the way! It’s got so much torque that you start from standstill in second gear. The gear lever, as mentioned earlier, is placed on the right-hand (-leg?) side of the driver and it has an open gate to ensure you shift properly. Well, I don’t think it was necessary as it falls into place perfectly.
The reason for it being so precise is that unlike in the Phantom I, where the engine and the gearbox were two separate units, in the Phantom II, the two units were joined and housed together, just like how it is in today’s cars.
Initially, to barely keep the Continental in a straight line on the Expressway, I had to keep making minor steering corrections. It was some sort of jostling for control between me and the Rolls – my steering input and the car’s direction output were totally mismatched and I was thinking what the hell was the Rolls-Royce ad for the Phantom II talking about, its ‘steering control’ and ‘ease of operation’ et al. As well as Ralph Stein’s comment that it had a quick, accurate steering. But then in a little while, I got the hang of it; it became second nature to keep the giant on track. In fact, I became so comfortable with it that I could rest my right arm on the window sill and drive it like a Mumbai taxi-wallah.
Today’s much touted multi-function steering wheels are not a patch on the Continental’s wheel. For instance, above the centre boss, was a ride height adjustment lever – right on the steering wheel, mind you, and not in the middle of the dash like in some top Mercs. Ride control could be set to Min or Max depending on your mood and the road conditions. I felt more comfortable with the firm settings, read as more in control and confident actually. Then there are two other levers on either side of the steering wheel boss. On the left is the throttle control, essentially to be used like cruise control, and on the right was the ignition timing, marked Early and Late. Need to climb without having to downshift? Vehicle fully loaded? Simply slide the lever upwards and the engine summons enough torque to clamber without fuss. Similarly, you can modulate your speed with this lever – you can even crawl at 20 kph for hours without the engine getting all heated up.
In no time I was doing 100 kph, and didn’t even feel it. With a further thrust on the accelerator pedal, the Continental surged gently forward and collected enough speed without letting you know, unless you actually glanced at the mph-marked speedo. The top speed of the Continental was 95 mph (152 kph). In fact Rolls-Royce had released an ad warning about driving on continental high speed roads and on ‘continuous high power touring,’ where they advised in all seriousness not to exceed 75 mph (120 kph) of continuous speed on the Phantom II. To quote the ad: Speeds of this nature will not cause unnecessary wear and tear, but if higher speeds than these are maintained, then the engine must invariably suffer however well designed or constructed it may be. Amen to that.
Such was my experience with a very special Rolls-Royce, an automobile that moves as well as it looks. Now will you be able to forget what you have seen and read here?
There has hardly been any major engine or body work done on this Rolls-Royce – in fact, it has never gone through a restoration. Only the interiors have been brilliantly restored by Mumbai-based Marespand A Dadachanji
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