So, what will you spend the next five to ten minutes of your life doing if you dive into this article? Well, it’s about the second edition of the Plymouth Satellite, a model based on Chrysler’s B-body platform that launched in 1962. More specifically, it’s about Luleå native Torbjörn “Tobbe” Flygare and his finely preserved 1966 Plymouth Satellite with a beefed-up V8 and an immaculate, nearly untouched exterior.
For those who enjoy a bit of nerdy, detailed fun, there’s the evolution of the Plymouth Satellite’s grille to study, including the front lights. In 1965, it featured single headlights. In 1966, like Flygare’s Satellite, two smaller lights appeared in the grille. By 1967, these inner newcomers had grown but looked slightly squeezed into the grille, making them appear smaller than they actually were. By 1968, they had blossomed into two full-fledged light sources on each side of the radiator grille.
These and other such conversations are what Flygare and I amuse ourselves with while his Plymouth is photographed on-site in Luleå, in the northern parts of Sweden.
The Satellite came to Sweden from the U.S. in 2004 when a man from the small town of Köping in the southern part of the country imported it. This man fixed up the car and sold the Satellite a while later. When Tobbe found it in an ad in 2014, the Satellite was located in Brastad on Sweden’s west coast.
“At that time, I was driving a tanker truck for Statoil. A colleague working in the same company in western Sweden checked it out for me and found a few minor issues – mostly mechanical, which are easy to fix compared to rust. Since the body was in very good shape, it was a deal,” Flygare explains.
After purchasing, Flygare drove the Satellite all the way back to Luleå. After a bit of “laying rubber” (read: burnouts) with his Plymouth at home, he realized that the engine probably needed a check-up. The components seemed generally in good condition, but the V8 was blowing pistons left and right. After discussing it with the first owner in Sweden, Flygare concluded that the cylinders had been honed too much, resulting in excessive piston play.
“That meant pulling the engine, overboring and new pistons. The delay – replacing the pistons with the engine still in the car at first – was mostly because I wanted to drive as much as possible during that first summer,” Flygare says.
So, what does the engine and drivetrain look like? Up front sits a V8, a 400 block stroked to 451 cubic inches. Behind it is a B&M converter with 2,800 rpm stall speed. The automatic transmission is a 727, reinforced with parts from a HEMI® transmission. At the rear is an 8 3/4 rear axle with an Auburn differential and a 3.55:1 gear ratio.
The 400 block contains, among other things, a 440 crankshaft and rods. The cylinder heads are Edelbrock’s Performer RPM with 88 cubic centimeters of combustion chambers, and the intake is also Edelbrock’s RPM model. The camshaft is from Comp CAMS with part number 21-225-4. Keith Black hypereutectic pistons and standard rocker arms and lifters. Carburetor? The classic Holley 750 cfm, a double pumper.
Horsepower? Tobbe hasn’t dyno-tested the V8 and is thus quite humble about the question.
“When I read what Edelbrock’s Top End kit can deliver on an engine similar to mine, they talk about figures around 480 horsepower. On a good day with the sun shining, maybe I can get that,” Flygare says.
He is a loyal Rättvik visitor every summer, specifically during week 31. That’s when one of Sweden’s largest car meets, Classic Car Week, takes place. One year, he even took the Satellite down from Luleå, a modest journey of 1,600 kilometers round trip.
One summer in Rättvik, Flygare met the man who imported his red Mopar® to Sweden.
“I got one of the car’s license plates then, the original from the USA, which was nice. Plus, the first owner in Sweden could tell me a bit more about the Satellite’s history. He said that the body was in great condition even when he bought the car. Only a small rust repair had been done, about the size of a five-cent coin. The first owner added that if I could find where he had fixed the body, he would grant me whatever I wished,” Flygare says with a big smile.
When he’s not off on long drives to the beautiful town of Rättvik by Lake Siljan, Flygare races a bit with some friends.
“We’re three old guys who race against each other every summer. The other two own a 1975 Chevrolet Camaro and a 1969 Chevrolet Chevelle, respectively. This year, they both beat me. On the other hand, I won in the previous two seasons, so… We usually race on an old airstrip north of the town Boden,” Flygare says.
The track is 201 meters, and the first over the finish line wins. No special rules. When asked about future plans for the Satellite, Flygare becomes a bit secretive.
“Some upgrades will happen, of course. But I won’t say what, ha ha! Besides, it costs to dance in town, as they say,” Flygare says, with another great smile.
When I first see Flygare’s Satellite, it’s parked outside Axl’s Garage in Överkalix, northern Sweden. I note that the car is incredibly cool, but the tires are a bit dirty. I ask Flygare if he might take care of that for an eventual photo shoot – maybe wash the tires, or even give them some tire shine. Two days later, Flygare shows up with a car whose tires are dazzlingly black. They almost glisten in the afternoon sun. Never seen tires that fine before. The secret? Cassida Silicon Fluid Spray, a food-grade silicone spray that Flygare has access to, as he works as a maintenance mechanic in the fish industry, for slaughterhouses and bakeries.
“They say necessity is the mother of all inventions… No way, I say. It’s laziness. Instead of washing the tires, I sprayed them. Turned out well, don’t you think?!” Flygare says. Smile number three, or maybe thirty-three, shines out.
I wrap up our conversation by asking Flygare how he first became interested in cars, especially American muscle cars.
He was 15 years old. It was 1975, and the place was the local motor club in Luleå. But, of course, all other car-related events also influenced Mr. Flygare in his youth. He particularly remembers one occasion.
“My father kept his childhood home in Masugnsbyn, 250 kilometers north of Luleå. We used it as a holiday home, and I spent a lot of time there growing up. Back then, there was basically a junk car in every yard. We used to buy them for about 5 euros each and then drive rallycross with them,” Flygare says.
One of his friends had a brother who read the magazine Start & Speed, one of the first magazines in Sweden to feature articles on American cars. This is how he and his friends learned what a dragster looked like.
“We decided to build our own dragster. We found a V8, a flathead. Then we took a front axle from a Volvo Amazon and put on small wheels. Then we welded on I-beams to extend the frame. Some parents contributed an armchair (!) to sit in and the village plumber made a steering wheel out of copper pipes. That’s how we went about creating our dragster. I don’t remember what we used for rear tires, though, and it’s a real shame no one thought to take a picture of our build,” Flygare says.
Indeed. That would have been the perfect picture to end this story!
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