Set the controls for the Dart of the sun

A week may be considered a long time in politics, but when it comes to crusty motorcycles, it’s gone in a flash. It feels like ages since I wheeled the Dart into the garage, when in fact, it’s been just over a week. And for most of that time, I’ve been working anyway – it’s only really over the long weekend that I’ve really been able to get out into the garage and give the thing a good seeing to. And while it would be easy to do a “first I took the fairing off, then I took the tank off etc. etc.” blog post, I’m not going to. I think this one will be more of a stream of consciousness kind of thing.

Obviously then, first I took the fairing off.

And then went a made a cup of tea, had a think, and made some notes:

*Fuel tank: Leaks. Repair.
*Battery: Replace.
*Cam belt: Replace.
Engine: Turns over, but that’s all I know.
*Oil filter: Clean.
*Oil: Replace.
*Air filter(s): Inspect, clean, maybe replace.
*Carbs: Inspect, clean.
*Spark plugs: Replace.
*Plug caps: Replace.
*Plug leads: Replace.
*Test run.
Assorted crinkly hoses: Replace.
Choke cable: Repair/replace
Oil level sender: Replace wiring.
Bodywork: Repair.
Brakes: Strip, clean, rebuild.
Suspension: Strip, clean, rebuild.
Tyres:Replace
Choke cable: Replace?
Seat: Recover?

From the little asterisks it should be apparent where we are now. Yes, it ran. No, it didn’t leak (yet). And it was really remarkably painless. Obvious stuff like the battery needed replacing, and the fuel system needed draining of old stale fuel. And this gave me my first insight that whoever had this bike before, knew what they were doing. The fuel system was full of a very oily fuel/oil mix. When this bike was put into storage, someone put some oil in the tank, and ran it through until it all got a bit smoky, then shut it off, disconnected the tank, and threw a sheet over it in the corner. That oil in the fuel kept everything in the carbs clean and uncorroded. Even the needle valves still seat perfectly.

Other than that, I wanted to change the oil, of course, replace the cambelt, and the plugs, caps and leads, to give it the best chance of starting. The cambelt change is one of those things that Ducati owners talk about is hushed tones as something of a dark art, requiring inside knowledge and some sheep entrails nailed to the garage door. On the Morini engine, it couldn’t be easier. I think it took me less than an hour, from start to finish. Somewhere on YouTube there’s a 10 minute video by someone who knows what they’re doing, taking you through it from start to finish.

The plastic tank had obviously been repaired – and when I filled the tank with water, there was definitely a drip after a couple of hours from the repair. I gave it all a good roughen up with the trusty Dremel, and slathered some very unpleasant, but very strong Acrylic adhesive over the area. Will it hold? No idea, but it’s the best I’ve got right now. We’ll see.

I later found that this was a common failure for the Dart – there was a fastener bonded into the tank there to connect to the air filter to give it a bit of support. And if you used the wrong bolt, it punched through the tank and led to the leaky shenanigans. While I had this lot on the bench I also tested the electric fuel tap, safe in the knowledge that it would have failed and need replacing with something manual, as the original taps are now completely unobtainable. Would you believe it, it worked perfectly. So in trepidation I hooked up the bench 12V supply to the bike, and tested all the other circuits. With the exception of the neutral indicator light, everything appeared to work perfectly. If there’s one thing that 1980s Italian bikes are known for, it’s the quality of their electrics. And not in a good way. So this was a cause for no little celebration.

The first attempt at starting achieved very little indeed, other than a slightly flatter battery than when I started the process. It was soon obvious why – the carb floatbowls were drier than a dead dingo’s donger. But, the beauty of a simple aircooled twin is that it’s very easy to whip the carbs off, give them all a good clean out, and put it back together – I reckon I had this done in about 90 minutes, so a bit longer than the cambelt, but still nothing like changing a single spark plug on the VFR800. And the next time I pressed the starter button, it fired up first time and settled straight into a 7000RPM tickover before I could hit the kill switch. This was easy to diagnose – as soon as I touched the throttle there was a click as the cable adjuster reseated itself properly after the disturbance to take the carbs off. Second time around, a lovely off-beat 1200rpm tickover.

And a horribly illuminated oil pressure warning light, which just didn’t go out after the normal 5-10 seconds from a fresh oil change. Bother. However, I was reasonably confident that this was the sensor, rather than the pump – 1980s Italian electrics, remember? After a good 30 minutes scratching my head, I looked at the wiring diagram, and fired a question off to the Morini Owners Club. It turns out that despite having a warning light for insufficient oil pressure (number six in the diagram)

there is no oil pressure sensor. It’s actually an oil level indicator. As I’d just stuck 2.5 litres of Motul in there, and none of it was on the floor, I knew the oil level was good, so I ignored it.

And that’s where we are today. At the end of a glorious weekend of friendship and laughter, the rebuild is very much on course – I now know that I’ve got something worth saving. Thanks and love to everyone who has helped me to understand that.