I didn’t uncover this Big Bird in some far-flung Norwegian woods, but tucked besides a few old houses by a country road in the middle of Hokkaido, Japan’s northernmost and least densely-populated island. So this is not a “junkyard” find per se (that’s for a future post), but I guess the car’s overall condition qualifies. And it’s big enough in acreage to qualify as a yard in Japan, so…
I’m not 100% sure of the model year on this one. I have had very little exposure to these cars and I understand the differences between the 1974, 1975 and 1976 vintages are extremely minor and mostly mechanical or trim-related, so I picked the middle one. But given the readership here, I have no doubt someone will be able to correct me if I guessed this one wrong.
The size of these T-Birds is both overwhelming and underwhelming. It boggles the mind to see a two-door car take up so much space, yet to offer so little accommodation inside. The rear seats are positively tiny. Legroom seems fine up front, but the roof is quite low on this car, so there isn’t all that much headroom. Compared to contemporary GM products though, I must say Ford’s interior styling was pretty good. In true local fashion, the owner of this car had the seats meticulously covered in white fabric. Not the usual lace doilies, but close.
One of the signs that this T-Bird was most probably sold new in Japan is the tacked-on amber turn signals on the rear end, as well as the ones added to the front fenders. The very idea of having a vehicle this big in the country of the kei is ludicrous, yet here we are. Someone saw this gargantuan Ford, looked at the thirsty yet underpowered 7.5 litre V8 under the hood, saw the 4800 lbs (almost 2200kg) weight and thought: “Yes, I think I’ll pay the substantial import tax on top of the US$7,000-odd pricetag right when gas prices are going through the roof.”
Never mind the financial outlay – the amount of commitment it would have taken anybody driving around Japan in the mid-‘70s to go for a full-size American car borders on sheer contrarianism. For whatever reason, its original hood ornament is missing. The replacement item, coming from the successor T-Bird generation, is barely holding on.
Cars like this Thunderbird are very context-dependent. In places like North America, Australia or the Middle-East, these look perfectly at home – although even there, they would now be grossly outsized compared to contemporary traffic. In Japan (and even in Hokkaido, where streets are wider and population density quite low), owning an 80-inch-wide monster like this makes zero practical sense. But since when were T-Birds, sumo or otherwise, ever about practicality anyway?
Related posts:
Curbside Classic: 1975 Ford Thunderbird – Cherries are Available for a Nominal Cost, by Jason Shafer
COAL: 1975 Ford Thunderbird – Preparing for Flight, by Jason Shafer
Curbside Classic: 1974 Thunderbird – A Mark By Any Other Name…, by Tom Klockau
CC TV: 1974 Ford Thunderbird Commercial – “Make A Little Thunder Of Your Own”, by Greg Olotka
If I had been forced to guess the least probable automotive find in Japan, this might have topped the list. The steering wheel says 1975-76, but that’s as close as I get.
Those massive rear bumpers finally display their styling advantage – they make a perfect place for mounting auxiliary lights!
Probably a retired Yakuza.
And this is yet another Ford with a hastily-designed blocker beam pasted on the rear end to meet the 5 mph bumper standard. Imagine how much better it would have been with the ‘72 bumper instead.
These cars made enough of an impression in Japan that a 1/24 (very much NOT 1/25) scale model kit was tooled up of one and passed around through at least a couple of manufacturers (Otaki and Arii seem to be the most common).
Ta-dahhh! Since you mention it, CC-in-scale has this Otaki ’72. Sorry for the poor quality photo. As you say, this tooling later went to Arii when Otaki folded. I’m not sure, but I think their engineers may have exaggerated the size of the model; it’s huge next to a 1/25.
Wow, seeing this greatest generation of Thunderbird (yes, I’m biased) in Japan simply doesn’t compute. Might the original owner have been the ultimate in non-conformists?
Having owned one of these, piloting this bad girl in tight confines isn’t as difficult as one might think. First off, this was back when you could see the entirety of the hood (unlike current times) which helps navigation tremendously in any car. Second, on these you could also see the rear corners of the car, another great navigational aid. The only bad thing was cresting hills – the hood was long enough you covered some distance before it was pointing downwards again.
While the engine was down on power (194, to be precise), it still had 347 ft-lbs (471 N-m) of torque. Acceleration was still respectable and hills didn’t faze it. In mixed driving, I usually got around 11 to 15 mpg with it – not great but not horrible given what it is.
This is a great find!
I think the stereotype was that large American cars were favored by gangsters and dentists.
Were jaywalkers and orthodontists excluded?
No, I must gently chide you, Dr T, this widespread and lengthy arrangement of metal and plastics and glass never looked at home in Australia.
In fact, with steering wheel migrated uncomfortably to the passenger and the be-vinyled whole driving upside down, as it were, the very few who ventured down here only ever looked miserable, as if they longed for the home country where people did not point and laugh rudely at them.
The local relatives, you see, were always several sizes smaller than such as this, despite the tricks that photos might play.
One other thing that I also simply must address, you claim to have had “little exposure” to these cars, but this cannot be true. You clearly walked around it, which, given its girth, is well-known to be at least a 17 minute round trip, not counting your self-evident photo stops. If it was, say, a nuclear waste site – and some might claim this thing looks as toxic – the amount of exposure is not only considerable, but excessive. In short, you have obviously been fully exposed, though the chances of your aesthetic recovery from same might be similar to that from exposure to the facility mentioned just now, and I wish you good luck.
I know this stuff might sound picky, but this site values the sort of unembellished factual accuracy that one such as I always provide.
It’s nice to see that the Japanese can sometimes let their classics sit in a field and rust just like we Americans do! I had a mental image of a immaculately landscaped Japan, with each acre of usable land put to use for farming, homes or parks, I guess it’s not quite there yet.
These cars are so wide that they would take up both sides of the street in some cities, it’s taking up the space of 4 Kei cars for sure, maybe even 5 if it parks horizontally!
The Amber rear lights, no doubt mandated. Does anybody recognize them? Are they a Ford piece, or a generic retrofit?
How about the red lenses on the back shelf? Another requirement?
First time I’ve noticed that the Bird’s rear bumper gives a slight nod to the ’60 Ford rear bumper.
Those chrome-housed, trapezoidal amber turn signals are a Ford item they crudely slapped on export versions of numerous models from sometime in the ’60s well into the ’80s. The red lights on the parcel shelf aren’t there to meet any requirement.
Apparently the front marker/turn lenses are an “export” amber piece, vs U.S. white?
Yup, looks like it. A little weird, because there was no prohibition on amber bulb/colourless lens in Japan, but that setup wasn’t supported in Europe—there wasn’t any regulation that specifically banned it, but there was no European-approved amber turn signal bulb until many years after this car was built. Likely that lens came in just two versions: domestic and export. Even though Japan would’ve been fine with the domestic version, other factors (bulb availability) might well have led Ford to use the amber lens there.
I keep staring at these pictures in utter amazement. Not so much for the car itself, but its location. A site like this would seem perfectly normal here in Virginia — and in fact, if I were to close my eyes and picture a car left in a field, a mid-70s Ford would likely come to mind. But just how/why/when this car made it to Japan is just simply imponderable.
I’m looking forward to more finds from Hokkaido. I suppose a Plymouth Sapporo would be too much to ask for, though…
This is the trunk in a ’75 Thunderbird. So little space for such a big car!
That’s why the tire is supposed to go on top of the trunk!
That’s something I never understood about these cars. Even given the lengthy hood on these, it looks like there ought to be more room than there actually is. Next to no rear seat room. Next to no trunk room. So where did all the space go?
The first cars I remember were a ’66 Dodge Coronet 440 2-door hardtop and a ’71 Plymouth Scamp. Both had properly designed trunks with the spare tires stored under the floors and enough space for every suitcase at the store. It made understanding the motives of people who settled for cars built to these standards impossible.
That is not where the spare is supposed to be stored. It goes up on the slanted portion under the rear window.
You check the trunk for any bodies?
I have to disagree with the person who said that this is the best version of the Thunderbird. I think it’s the worst version of the car. It started as a cute 2 seater. It evolved into a 4 seat small car. The early 60’s were nice cars. Even the mid 60’s were ok. But then it started getting longer and fatter, while offering no more usable space. By the 70’s is was just fat and ugly and tiny inside compared to its bulk. It was so far from where it started. They did try to bring it back with its Cougar counterpart in the 80’s and it was moderately successful. But this car is the point where it was out of control.
The Cougar and Thunderbird being related arose from the Cougar moving up to midsize PLC from Compact Pony car and the Thunderbird moving down to midsize.
I test drove one of these about 20 years ago. I think it had the 400 engine. It was brown, brown, and more brown. So long. So wide. So fully packed. Big mushy cushy seats. One finger steering. Absurdly boosted brakes. It had dual exhausts and glass packs. The exhaust tips were long and chromed and flared up and out like bugles. It was jacked up in the back with old Cragar mags and wide tires. It was so ridiculous that I loved it instantly. But when I got back into my little fox-box-Mustang I figured the big brown-bodied boldly-blaring ‘Bird would probably get tiresome quickly so I skipped it. A month later I saw it presumably abandoned on the highway, with warning stickers from the police and eventually it was towed away.
So probably a good choice there.
My workplace has a bunch of classic American cars parked in the basement, owned by the execs. One of the cars is a T-Bird of this vintage. I recently sat in it and was surprised to find that there was about as much passenger space as my first-gen Focus had. I also had the feeling that I could park the Focus on the hood. I liked it. There’s always been something fetching about the styling of every T-Bird, even at their worst and most obscene.
It’s a ‘75. In ‘76 the rear quarter windows did not open. In ‘75 they opened (rearward) about an inch and a half. So the two switches visible in the back seat are for the map light and for the rear quarter window.
Thank you for this! For once, I guessed the right MY.
Shame about the tacky amber turn signal indicator housings from J.C. Whitney catalogue tacking onto the rear bumpers. Fabricating the taillamps for export version should not be that expensive and difficult, especially with that design.