GREMLINS IN A 2CV

One day at the service station I got a buzz on the intercom, and had to crawl out of the grease pit and attend to the shop. A lady was in distress. She drove a Citroén 2CV. Come to think of it, most women who do, are. Anyway, it was raining and her wipers wouldn't work properly. The engine nearly stopped at each road junction. And maybe the starter motor was beginning to wear, cous' she'd had to push-start the car.

She had left the car idling at the end of the building, and as we walked out to have a look, I stopped right outside the door. "-The alternator's gone" I said. "-Can you tell that from here??" she asked astonished. Twenty metres away stood a 2 CV with the weakest glow from a headlight I've seen. The light was yellow, even with very
un-French white bulbs. But I found no reason to bore her with a lecture about technicalities, so I simply said
"-Yes." Besides, it was raining and I didn't want to get wet.

I calmly explained to her that I could however not know whitch part of the alternator that had caved in, but my educated guess would be an inexpensive component like the regulator. Or possibly the diodes. This would not involve more than one hour of labour, and the car would be ready by the time she was finished at work. At this point she went to discuss with her boyfriend who waited in his shiny CX to pick her up. Another poor Citroén die hard, I gathered.

Five minutes later they both came back. This time he adressed me. "-So you say it's the alternator? But there's no red warning lamp on!" he said with a facial express which made it quite clear that he didn't believe a word I was saying. I patiently explained to him that it doesn't always come on, it depends on the type of fault. Although the wipers were struggling and the engine almost died at crossings, these faults were merely symthoms of a weak or nonexisting charging voltage, and finished off by adding "-But it's easy to confirm it. Bring the 2CV into the service hall, and I'll test it."
At idle, the battery was 9 volts. At full speed, the battery was 9 volts. And when we stopped the engine, the voltage rised a little. The alternator wasn't charging at all. Then Citroén-man went outside to have another private conversation with his spouce, whereafter he left.

A little embarassed, the 2CV owner told me that her boyfriend had decided to hand the car over to a friend of his for repair. She was under the impression that this chum was a mechanic. I jump started the sorry 2CV and wheeled it out for her. When she asked how much she owed for the diagnosis test, I stopped her with a smile.
"-No trouble at all." There really is no point in being sore about someone taking their car elsewhere for repair. Another customer will soon materialize. And Citroéns can be a pain in the butt to work on anyway.
A few minutes later there was a knock on my garage gate. There was the fair 2CV owner again, asking if she could come back with her car if this mechanic chum was unable to fix it. When I assured her that she'd be welcome anytime, she looked releaved.

It took exactly one hour. I didn't ask any questions about whether chummy was unable to, or didn't have the time to fix it. And I had to promise not to replace any expensive components before consulting her. I repeated my estimate, and off she went.
The front of the alternator is hidden behind a tin cover. Quite reasonable, since this is the upper foremost point of the engine, and a convenient place to lay a hand. But to gain access to, or even to see the alternator, it will have to be taken off. And when I did, I noticed something astonishing. There was no V-belt whatsoever... Well, not entirely true, I found some remnants in the cowling under the crankshaft pulley. Why hadn't I thought of that? Because I assumed someone'd had a look under the bonnet when the car started acting strange. And I didn't know that the whole front of the alternator was behind covers. Probably.

Fitting a new V-belt made the alternator charge like new. The only problem was that I didn't want to admit how simple the fault was. It was too simple. When she came to collect the car, I mumbled something about diode bridges, and diverted her by charging her the price of a new belt (specified as "parts"), and half an hour of labour.