The story of the Sabrina forms part of another I've posted here before...
Ah! Sabrina... have you seen Terry Cornelius' story of his love affair with that car?
The tale intertwines twixt this car and that, but the reference to the 'huge jugs' on Sabrina, along with the reference to having seen the original example at Albert Park, opposite the pits...
I was a small part in the reconstruction of Sabrina, too. Wally Gates, knowing my stockpile of 3-litre Austin engines, asked me if I had one for him... that same week a gent came to a screeching stop in front of my place, having seen the sedans the engines were in...
"I'd like one of those for a Demolition Derby," he said, "they'll cop more of a bashing than a Holden... How much?"
My response, as I told him, was geared to the value of what he might damage that I still wanted when he was done... "The radiator is worth $25, and you just give me the rest back when you're done." He was about the tenth last car knocked out... the fuel pump fell out of its bracket and shorted out!
One day, in what John Medley would refer to as an 'alcoholocaust' we - the demo derby guy, his mates, Wally Gates and myself, stripped out the bits and the engine went away to become the basis for what Sabrina wore for her return.
For the benefit of the Yanks reading, Sabrina was a lithe sports car on a fabricated twin-tube chassis... she had the engine as described, together with a huge crank-driven air-pump up front with twin SUs (those 'jugs')... something of an 'Old Yella' look and attraction about her... she was yellow, and she went like stink.
...and in Terry's own words...
IN 1960, Laurie Knight was someone I had never heard of . . . Sabrina, however was someone everyone had heard of. At fourteen years of age, and with my hormones in a tangle, I was lucky enough to be at the pit counter, directly opposite the VIP stand where she was guest of honour, at Albert Park. I remember being part of the line of binoculars trained in her direction across the track.
I digress. I had never heard of Laurie Knight, who lived in Benalla, but two of my best friends were his cousins, as coincidence would have it. Not that that meant anything then, anyway.
From an early age, my Dad must have taken me to every motor racing fixture within a day’s travel - and some beyond. By age 16 I had a very well developed sense of appreciation of mechanical contrivances, and most of my private fantasies dwelt not only on girls, but also the svelte and sexy curves of the Maserati 250F. But here I was at Tarrawingee (history will show that it was November 6, 1960), and I found myself entranced by the sight, the sound, and the glory, of the nude Sabrina.
She was everything I ever desired, and I followed her every detail as she moved lithely across the pits and into the dummy grid area. I couldn’t take my eyes of her two beautiful big jugs . . SUs of course . . . mounted on that big supercharger thrusting Phallus-like in front of the Healey 3000 motor . . . Minus a body, she might well have been unfinished, but she was a mechanical delight! After witnessing its hugely successful debut that day, I was part of the large admiring group gathered around Laurie Knight and his creation, when someone asked him why he called it Sabrina. Without hesitation he announced that it was because “she was always so very far out in front!”
Unfortunately, Laurie was to crash Sabrina at Hume Weir two months later, putting him and the car out of commission for some time. The story goes that, semi-conscious in the ambulance, Laurie’s only concern was . . “how is the supercharger?”
WINTON, 1962, and I again beheld the spectacle of Sabrina, this time making her second debut, and this time with her clothes on. Laurie had repaired the Hume Weir damage and continued the construction process to its logical conclusion . . . A smooth and delightful fibreglass body! Now the name matched the body . . . or did the body match the name? Certainly, both namesakes were very curvy.
The car seemed to be even more desirable because it was road registered, and I couldn’t help conjuring up images of terrorising the neighbourhood with tyres, supercharger, exhaust and passenger screaming in unison!