igor duerloo

Some of my blog readers might remember that bringing the shark home from transmission rebuild was a bit of an adventure, to say the least. 

Since then we were able to have some nice day trips (a bachelor party at Spa Francorchamps for example) but the problem of a blowing fuel pump fuse would re-occur every now and then and, as we all know- simply because there isn’t a good moment, always at the wrong moment. It’s a given fact that driving a Porsche is a reason to smile but if you’re driving a full day with an ear to ear grin caused by a deceased fuel level gasket in the boot and an amount of fuel sniffig that would even take Keith Richards down, you know you’ve got problem to deal with. After raising the shark up for the umpteenth time I have to drain about 50L’s of fuel, I guess there’s no need to mention this gets the Keith Richards routine going again.