This is Milly, a ‘65 split screen with an interesting past and restored in honour of a much-loved friend.
Owner Martyn Bore bought the US import from his cousin about five years ago, and was intrigued to find “a load of Grateful Dead inscribings and paintings” on the inside.
So-called ‘Deadheads’ were renowned for following Jerry Garcia’s band around in Volkswagen campers decorated with flowers and peace signs.
’65 VW split screen camper could have connection with Grateful Dead
But, given that Martyn’s Splittie was a bus, and never a camper in its past life, could it have had some deeper connection to the band?
“It only had one owner before my cousin bought it out of a police auction in New York,” he says. “He was either a massive Grateful Dead fan, or in some way connected to the band. Wouldn’t that be amazing? We’ve found a photo of the bus surrounded by bunting at Woodstock after trawling through thousands of images.”
More than 50 years on from the defining event of the counterculture generation, the camper is once again in a field – but this time in Suffolk, and with rather less mud.
Martyn is at the Alive & V-Dubbin festival at Haughley Park, and he explains how the bus is a tribute to his late friend James Milbourne, who died of a brain tumour.
“We’d always spoken about building a van together,” he says. “He always said ‘it’s got to be Dove Blue’, so I kind of built it in his honour. I’ve done a few weddings in the van, and as payment I take a contribution to go to a brain tumour charity. I’ve raised a few hundred pounds so far, and I’ve got a few more gigs booked. It’s kind of my way of paying forward a little bit.”
Martyn had owned old Beetles in his younger days, but his real passion for VWs didn’t start until he bought a Mk1 Caddy to do up with his son, Corey, who was 12 at the time.
“When I was younger, a Beetle was just a cool thing to have,” he says. “I’d drive this bright yellow Beetle down to Clacton every weekend to go to the nightclubs, but I didn’t really have a passion for Volkswagens, not until I had to build my own one.
“I bought this old Caddy off a friend for £500 because I wanted to get Corey into mechanics. It was just going to be a quick fixer upper, but we got really into it. It was brilliant – we were both keen as mustard.
“We’d work on it together on weekends and in the evenings. We stripped it to the bare shell, painted it, then blew the engine up, bought a new engine, converted it from a diesel to a petrol, and fitted a bench seat to the front. It’s probably the only three-seater Caddy in the world.”
Martyn had promised Corey the Caddy when he was old enough to drive, but by then it had a 2-litre, 16v engine running twin 45 Weber carbs…
“When he got his first quote for insurance on it, it was about £12,500,” he says, deciding to sell it instead. “Just to relinquish my guilt, I bought another Caddy and we did it up with a standard diesel engine. He had that for a few years.
“I’ve got an opportunity to buy the first one back. It’s the one that got away from me, and I really miss it.”
Several campers over the years, including a ’57 split screen panel van
Over the years, Martyn – a vessel controller at the Port of Felixstowe – has had various campers, including a 1957 split screen panel van “which I loved and adored”.
“I bought a modern van, and I was sleeping in the modern van but taking the old van for show,” he says. “It was cold, draughty, and you’d wake up in the morning with moisture everywhere.
“The T5 had a TV, thermal insulation, and a heater. I decided I wasn’t using it enough, so I had to sell it.
“I sold it to this guy in Cornwall and, while I regret selling the van, it was one of the best things I ever did. He runs a club in Cornwall, I made friends with him and now we go down there every year for his festival, and he comes up here sometimes.”
It was to Cornwall, in 2021, that Milly made a first post-restoration outing.
“It was a 1,500-mile round trip, and it made it without a hitch,” says Martyn. “We stopped in Somerset for five nights, north Cornwall for a few nights, and then on to the show.”
Before that, though, a huge amount of work was needed to get the VW split screen camper to its stunning current condition.
“When I first got it over here, it was hand-painted Hammerite green,” says Martyn. “Whoever decided to hand paint it has done the bus a favour, because underneath the paint there was no rust.
“It was a bitch to get off. It took weeks to clean off down to the bare metal – many hours with a wet sander and grinder…”
The restoration was far from a solo job, with Martyn and a group of friends having teamed up to form the Suffolk Oil Burners – a small club that rents a workshop unit in Ipswich.
“It’s all just for fun – we all chip in to rent this unit,” he says, “and my van was built in there. It was built by blokes in a shed, so to speak.”
Those blokes to whom eternal thanks are due were Corey, plus friends Phil, Mark, Stuie, Dan, Paul, and his right-hand man during the rebuild, Scott.
“It’s one of the things I pride myself on,” he says, “that I didn’t send it to a professional mechanic. Growing up, my friend’s dad built cars and motorbikes and we’d all hang around his garage, so it stems from there.
“I had a friend of mine who’s an auto electrician come and do the wiring, and a bit of help with some of the welding. And Corey is a qualified paint sprayer, so he painted it. Getting him into mechanics at the age of 12 paid off!”
Lockdown inspired a total rebuild of the ’65 VW split screen camper
Initially, Martyn planned to use standing running gear on the van, but then lockdown struck and he decided to go further.
“I said to my mates ‘look, I just want to do it completely’,” he says. “The only problem was we’d already painted the outside, so to strip all the underneath without damaging the paintwork was a bit of a mission. My friends have got many hospital visits and eye baths from cleaning the underneath with a wire brush down to the bare metal. Every one of them has got a cut or a scar, or a permanent bruise related to that van.
“Every single nut and bolt was replaced on it.”
Martyn and his mates replaced the beam, brakes, gearbox, engine, and wiring loom, and welded in a new rear chassis for independent rear suspension. The large, round front indicators were replaced with in-headlight flashers for a more minimalist look.
“So there’s not a lot on there that’s original 1965,” he says, the engine a 1641cc unit with twin carbs bought from an engine rebuilder in Dagenham.
“You can go for a bigger engine, but it’s not designed for speed, it’s about reliability. The gearbox is a Freeway Flyer transmission converted from a Beetle, with a very long fourth gear.
“You can cruise almost on idle at 70mph, and it’s got a good gear ratio for going up some of the horrendous hills in Cornwall.”
Although the trip to the South West was the VW split screen camper’s first as a mostly completed project, Martyn did drive to Bug Jam in July 2021 “with a driver’s seat and no interior”.
Bug Jam annual homage
It’s a pilgrimage he and about 25 mates have been making every year since the ‘90s, “our annual homage, a lads-only weekend” – until lockdown intervened in Spring 2020, and the event was cancelled.
Undaunted, Martyn contacted The Bennet Arms near Bury St Edmunds, which has a large field at the rear specifically for use by camper vans.
“Under the Covid rules, we could have groups of six,” says Martyn, “and the field was free to use as long as you use the pub.
“So we split into four groups of six in different corners of the field, and had our own little mini Volkswagen festival. The weather was brilliant.
“The landlord and landlady came out and served us our drinks and food on a table, and they were so nice we’ve been back probably a dozen times since.”
The interior of the bus has been an ongoing project for the past year or so, and it’s now near enough finished.
A friend donated some parquet flooring, the roof-lining is alcantara, and the rest is noticeable for its minimalism.
“I didn’t want to make it too much of a camper,” says Martyn. “I’d never cook in there. There’s not a chance I’m going to be hungover and make a bacon sandwich in there at 9 o’clock in the morning, so I’ve just got a full width rock and roll bed and a rear-facing seat with a table in between.”
There’s also a diesel heater, a bunk bed across the cab for grandchildren, a bluetooth sound system, and a vintage Drambuie crate from Felixstowe docks.
“As far as I’m concerned, it’s usable, it’s fun, I can jump in it, turn the key, and it starts,” says Martyn. “I don’t have to worry about it.”
So is this his ‘forever bus’, the one that will stand the test of time?
“I kind of get a little bit bored easily,” he laughs. “I’ve built it now, and I love it, but it’s like ‘what do I do now?’
“Over winter, when it sat in the workshop and I didn’t get it out, I was thinking ‘is it really worth it? It’s just sitting there’.
‘I can’t get rid of it’
“Then I took it for a little spin down to Felixstowe seafront and thought ‘I can’t get rid of it’. Today I had my grandson in the van and he was loving it, waving at everyone as they went past. So I can’t sell it, but I do fancy another little project.”
For now, Martyn and the Suffolk Oil Burner crew are busy working on other people’s Volkswagens, having put in about 150 hours over three weeks to get a friend’s bus ready for the Haughley Park festival.
“We finally got it ready about two days ago, but on the way home the rear brakes seized on and caught fire, so unfortunately it’s not going to make it this weekend,” he says. “So I’ve thrown myself into that and to helping my friends with their VWs.”
It’s a club where everyone chips in, both financially and with whatever hands-on labour they can, even when all seems lost.
“My friend Mark had his Bay window in the workshop when we first got it,” says Martyn. “His wife bought it on eBay without looking at it and when we started work on it, it was so rusty it was beyond economical repair.
“He went to Cornwall, and while he was there we chopped it up and sent him photos. At one point the front cab was being held up by an engine crane and we’re sitting in there just swinging away. We sent him these photos – ‘here’s your van’ – and when he came back from Cornwall he said ‘what have you done?!’ Little did he know, we’d all chipped in and bought him a new shell.”
It’s an all for one, and one for all attitude that’s typical of the Volkswagen community, and Martyn’s Milly stands as testament to how the collective spirit of a group of enthusiasts can produce stunning results.
