Triumph Stag, the car so bad it ‘stag-matised’ its owners

The Triumph Stag was a series of compromises that resembled a car. It didn’t go well.

Original story by Tony Davis first published in Drive on 31 July, 1998.

When an owner stands by his Triumph Stag, it’s usually because he can’t get the door open. Yet there was a time when the Stag seemed to represent an exciting future for sports cars.

The styling was well received, the technical specification (including independent rear suspension) and luxury inclusions also impressed, while the 2+2 seating lent a degree of practicality not usually found in open sports cars.

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And most impressively, the clever T-bar roof seemed to get around the new ’70s safety legislation tipped to outlaw convertibles.

But in the end the drop-top luxury Triumph was famous only for being famously unreliable, and its optimistic early buyers were soon thoroughly “Stagmatised”.

The Stag was based on a stunning show-car (pictured, above) by Michelotti, but Triumph – by now a division of British Leyland – was somehow deluded into thinking that this car could lift its image and allow it to compete with Mercedes and the like.

If delusions of grandeur were not enough, the Stag was designed in a hurry, engineered on a shoestring, put together with nothing even approaching care, and backed by an imploding Leyland.

Launched in the UK in July 1970 to a good media response and a strong order bank, the Stag soon became just another Leyland horror story. It cost the company millions in warranty claims, and millions more were spent in the frantic but ultimately unsuccessful attempt to fix the inherent design problems as production continued.

The engineers, mystifyingly, decided against using the alloy Rover V8 which in various forms powered a wide range of BL cars (even Australia’s P76). They must have decided it wasn’t unreliable enough to wear Triumph badges and opted to join two Triumph Dolomite four-cylinder engines (via a common crankshaft) to create a unique, and uniquely horrible, 3.0-litre V8.

Chronic overheating often led to major engine damage. If that didn’t get you, timing chain failure would. Or the crankshaft bearings, or… you get the picture.

And for all that, the DIY V8 produced only 109kW, leaving the long, narrow and fairly heavy (1275 kg) Stag chronically short of breath.

The first Stags arrived in Australia in 1971, but sales were slow to take off due to a shortage of stock. But by 1975 there were more than 450 on our roads.

The Stag’s price started at a none-to-small $8029 and nearly doubled during the time it spent on the Aussie market.

Standard equipment ran to electric windows, power steering, wood-grained dash and – as a special bonus – various Morris Marina control switches. The rear seat was a kids-only zone.

The downside of the clever T-roof was high wind noise – which, amazingly, became even louder when the hardtop was fitted. This hardtop (standard on Aussie-delivered cars) required a football team to install or remove, yet invariably leaked.

The Mark 2 of 1973 brought blacked-out tail panel and door sills, which did not exactly address the sharp end of the problem.

Despite its fast deteriorating reputation, the Stag staggered on until 1978.

In his book Making Money From Collectable Cars, Cliff Chambers put it very succinctly: “As an investment, the Stag is best ignored, since maintenance costs will exceed any profits you may make. But if you are a mechanical masochist, this is your car.” Tony Davis

So, what happened next?

Like so many troubled cars of its time, the Triumph Stag has attracted a loyal and devoted following, willing to put in the effort to keep their British one-top tourer in top-top shape.

With over 50 years of maintenance and repairs and tender loving care, the Stags that remain today are well-fettled and provide their owners with blissful sun-in the-hair-open-top motoring.

But perhaps the keenest Stag devotees are those who have given the Triumph a heart transplant, swapping out the troublesome and cobbled-together Triumph 3.0-litre V8 in favour of the engine it should have had from the outset, the 3.5-litre alloy V8 from Rover.

Today, one cannot but help doff the cap at the sight of a Stag in traffic, a simple awe at the devotion shown by owners to what was by every measure, a ‘lemon’ when new in 1970 and remained that way throughout its eight-year production cycle.

Time magazine included the Triumph Stag on its list of The 50 Worst Cars of All Time, noting that “it had great style … ruined by some half-hearted, half-witted, utterly temporised engineering”.

Today, the Stag remains a relatively affordable ‘classic’. A quick scan of one popular online classifieds site reveals five are currently up for grabs in Australia. They range in price from $20,000 to $75,000 for a particularly lovely 1974 Mk2 with white leather interior, white-wall tyres and just over 14,000km on the odometer.

It’s a similar story over in the UK, the Stag’s natural habitat, where nice examples are being offered for the equivalent of between $40,000 to $60,000.

Just over 25,000 Stags were produced between 1970-77 and remarkably, despite their inherent mechanical troubles from launch, it’s believed that in the UK alone, around 8500 survive to this day. RM

Do you own, or have you owned, a Triumph Stag? Tell us a bit about your experience in the comments below.

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