My 1967 Volvo 1800S: The One Where It’s Still Not Running Right At The End

Picture of Signal Red 1967 Volvo 1800 parked in a residential driveway with classic Buicks in the garage in the background

The learning curve has been steep with my 1967 Volvo 1800S, as Lucas electrical systems, SU carburetors, and Bosch distributors are old to many but new to me. All three make me long for a return to the American cars with which I am much more comfortable, but a car is a car, and we must press on (even when our self-esteems take a hit). “We’re not going to let the Volvo win” has become my mantra, but so far, it’s been doing most of the winning.

PXL 20251122 165010056 scaled

In an earlier chapter in my Swedish saga, I found a cracked intake manifold that I attempted to repair with JB Weld, and this time it just didn’t work. Unsurprisingly, as the weather became cooler in the fall, I could no longer keep the engine running without the choke pulled out about half way due to the resulting vacuum leak.

Picture of cracked Volvo B18 intake and exhaust manifold

The crack is apparently a commonplace occurrence on the new-for-1967 combined intake/exhaust manifold, as heat cycles eventually took their toll. There are no new replacements, so the only real fix is to separate the two and use a discrete intake manifold, as was used on pre-1967 cars.

PXL 20251122 170141484 scaled

This requires a moment of decisiveness. Taking a cutoff wheel and a reciprocating saw to an engine part requires a certain devil-may-care attitude that I do in fact possess, but I wouldn’t call it my primary instinct.

PXL 20251122 170401033 scaled

There’s no going back from here.

PXL 20251122 170901888.MP scaled

Now comes the grinding.

Picture of Volvo B18B exhaust manifold that has been separated from its conjoined intake manifold

Phew! I didn’t accidentally grind any holes where they didn’t belong, and I’m ready for the next step.

Image of aluminum reproduction Volvo B18B intake manifold

This is a remanufactured aluminum intake for a pre-1967 1800S from a Volvo parts supplier. It cost about $155 shipped, and here it is on my garage floor ready to be installed on the car.

PXL 20251115 190158237 scaled

But only after a ridiculous escapade of using an industrial belt sander in an attempt to flatten out the manifold’s ridiculously bad factory machining. You can see the ledge in the sealing surface, and the two flanges weren’t even close to even with each other. Obviously, I should have sent it back or taken it to a machine shop, but I had little faith that a replacement would be any better, and I have access to a large belt sander for free. Additionally, I use expensive Remflex gaskets, so it can be 1/16″ out of true and still seal.

This image is after I tried to flatten the manifold on a flat surface with sandpaper. I valued my time too much to continue with that Sisyphean task.

PXL 20251122 183130466 scaled

I then ran into another problem. The exhaust manifold flange is roughly twice as thick as the intake manifold flange (which is in itself somewhat thinner than when I had started, thanks to the belt sander).

PXL 20251122 190440543 scaled

Because I never buy the same car twice, I’ve learned to glean wisdom from sometimes decades past by reading posts from the appropriate online forum(s) for whatever car I’ve recently bought; after all, many problems are inherent in the car, as my cracked manifold was. Although the number of Volvo forums online is limited, I found a seemingly knowledgeable poster from long ago who mentioned using washers bent in half to take up the disparate thicknesses when using an aluminum manifold. I bent several washers (and cut a couple in half) to give myself a variety of options.

PXL 20251122 191932010 scaled

Using a pencil magnet to hold the washers in place (three halves was the right number) while I snugged up the nut resulted in this, a functional if not very attractive way to tighten the two manifolds. In all reality, does this look like an engine compartment of a car that is owned by a man who is concerned with how an engine compartment presents itself to others? I’ll forget the relative ugliness of the repair in a matter of weeks, if and when (when, when!) I can close the hood on this stubborn little thing for more than ten minutes.

PXL 20251223 185313940 scaled

This is the moment where I should have been doing a victory lap, but an odd thing happened; the Volvo wouldn’t start, and its spark seemed weak. After what I’ll describe as a several-week-long haze of trying all kinds of things and using my timing light as a scope, my dad came over on a cold January day, and (I swear) his just being there made the thing fire. I have never been able to explain the cosmic good vibes that that man brings to most situations, but he’s a man apart. I’m not superstitious in any meaningful way, but sometimes you just have to wonder.

PXL 20260110 170712167 scaled

During those hazy weeks, however, I did take the opportunity to go through a cast-iron Bosch 009 distributor that I bought used last summer to replace the incorrect aluminum Bosch (with its ancient electronic ignition module) that came with the car (and was overadvancing by a LOT). I bought a points insulation kit from a VW guy on eBay, and I did my best to shim up the drive collar, but that is an absolute pain. It’s still a little loose.

PXL 20260115 211734281 scaled

I even wired up an auxiliary ignition system to isolate any wiring problems in the car itself. Volvo 1800s use an “armored” positive lead from the ignition switch to the coil to dissuade any hotwiring dirtbags from stealing your sporty little car, but that also means that a mechanic can’t check voltage at the coil’s positive terminal (or run a jumper wire straight from the battery to bypass the ignition switch) because there isn’t one. This is what I had hooked up when my dad came over; he simply held the positive wire to the battery, and his healing touch made it start. It now runs (still poorly by the way, more on that in a minute) on the car’s main ignition system. I’m still not a hundred-percent sure what went wrong, and this is one of those few times where I’m not going to question it. I’m too tired.

Once the 1800 started, however, it was running on two cylinders and showing every sign of a massive vacuum leak. Because there’s nothing like throwing good money after bad, I bought this little smoke machine on Amazon for about $50. It showed me that I had forgotten about a missing threaded core plug on the front side of the intake manifold that hadn’t been there on the factory intake. (Oops.) Installing a plug obviously made it run much better, but it still wouldn’t idle, probably because of the main reason I took the car apart in the first place.

As you can see in the video above, the SU carburetors are shot; the throttle shafts are completely worn out (that’s where most of the smoke is coming from). Before I even noticed the recracked intake manifold, I removed the carburetors to do something about those sloppy throttle shafts. That is when I noticed the cracked manifold, but by that time, I had already removed a throttle shaft to have a look at things. Then, I decided to reassemble the carburetor so I could run the engine and check the intake crack for a vacuum leak, and in my haste, I didn’t get the throttle plate centered correctly. It wouldn’t idle down, even with the idle screws backed all the way out, probably because that one throttle plate was not seating and letting too much air in.

PXL 20260117 182218986 scaled

And that is where my Swedish journey has led me thus far. I’ve disassembled the SUs beyond the point of no return, and in doing so, I realized that the new shafts are not drilled for the throttle lever retaining pin, which is not in line with anything else on the shaft. So I’ve sent the carburetor bodies to an SU specialist to fit my throttle shafts and new bushings, and I’ll reassemble everything else when they get home.

Oh, did I mention that while I had the car running, it heated up and pushed out about a quart of antifreeze? I think the thermostat is stuck closed, so I’ll have to add that to the list. But we’re not going to let the Volvo win, we’re not going to let the Volvo win, we’re not going to let the Volvo win…Are we?

 

Related Reading

My Newly Acquired 1967 Volvo 1800S – “Is That One Of Those James Bond Cars?” (by me)

CC’s Best Of 2025: My 1967 Volvo 1800S Maintenance Log—No Sleep ‘Til Göteborg (by me)