I rode my Triumph Cub the seven miles to the nearest large motorcycle shop and was pleased to find that they had a brand new Norton Navigator in stock. It was finished in black and cream with a rear end enclosure that was in
vogue in the early sixties. At least the Norton’s rear enclosure was certainly more stylish than the Triumph item, which resembled an old fashioned upturned bath tub.
I enquired about part exchanging my Cub against the Norton - the manager said there was no market for small bikes, so he couldn’t offer very much for the Cub. I was green in those days, so agreed to the price he quoted. After the usual but necessary formalities I rode away from the shop, the proud owner of the Navigator.
Its engine was a pushrod four stroke with an integral four speed box housed in a pressed steel frame. The electrics (if that’s an apt description) were 6V. When I arrived home I was stunned to find that my riding boots were covered in oil. A frantic phone call was made to the manager of the motorcycle shop who suddenly appeared disinterested now that I had actually purchased the bike. After some argument he reluctantly agreed that his service department would look at it the following Saturday. They had the bike all that morning and I was assured that it was now oil tight. I was extremely disappointed to find some oil still leaking when I reached home.
I showed the bike to my grandfather who had been a motorcycle enthusiast in his younger days. He traced the oil leak to a banjo bolt on the engine. He carefully removed the bolt, coated the fibre washer with gasket sealant and refitted it. Result, no further oil leaks. No wonder the British motorcycle industry went downhill. This Norton was supposed to have been inspected at the factory and by the dealer. There was test mileage on the the speedo when I purchased it, but it still had been sent out leaking oil. This initial problem should have forewarned me of the many disasters to come!
I carefully ran the bike in but, after its first service, the engine was still noisy with lots of top end rattle. However, I soon noticed that other Navigator and Jubilee engines sounded much the same. Shortly after the service, to add to the fun, the clutch centre nut came loose. The bike handled well, although it was a little cumbersome below 30mph. The handling was tested to the limit on a trip to Silverstone. I was carrying an avid road racing enthusiast on the pillion.
The first tight bend we encountered I leaned the Norton into the bend, and to my amazement the machine seemed to be pulled further over down onto the road. The footrests and silencers grounded. I couldn’t understand this until I glanced back and saw my intrepid pillion hanging off the side like a sidecar passenger. After somehow getting round the bend safely I stopped to caution my passenger not to be quite so enthusiastic.
The brakes were good enough but the front one was inclined to lock the wheel, resulting in a couple of low speed spills. This may have been due to poor technique on my part, but it hasn’t happened on any other bikes I’ve owned. Top speed on the flat was in the mid eighties. Fuel consumption was 60 to 65mpg which was poor for a British 350, but, I suppose, quite reasonable in the light of later Jap middleweights.
In the third year I owned the bike I was plagued by electrical faults and I was very lucky to make it back to my home on a number of occasions - the engine was popping and banging all the way back. The problem was eventually solved by replacing the rectifier. The bike had also developed an appetite for gearchange return springs, which it consumed at approximately 7000 mile intervals. When they broke it was virtually impossible to change gear. The kickstart spring also broke in sympathy.
On one occasion a potentially serious disaster occurred. I was very fortunate to have been travelling at only 20mph when the gearbox locked up solid, locking up the rear wheel - I managed to skid to a halt without falling off. When the gearbox was stripped it was found that a gear had broken up completely, seizing the box; the gearbox had to be rebuilt.
A week later, whilst on the way to a club meeting at Silverstone, I was just winding up the Norton on the long straight on the Chipping Norton to Banbury road, when there was a bang and clouds of smoke came out of one side of the engine and the one exhaust. The bike slowed but continued to run on one cylinder for a few seconds before expiring completely. It would not restart.
I had to abandon the Norton and make my way home. I was tempted to leave the Norton where it had self destructed. However, a friend collected the bike with his van. When the engine was stripped down it was found that one piston had disintegrated, its remains mangled up in the bottom of the engine. The entire engine had to be rebuilt, although I can’t remember the cost of this memory can be kind.
When the Norton was back on the road I resolved to offload it before anything else went wrong. I took it to the dealers who I'd originally bought it off - the manager said there was no market for bigger bikes, offering a derisory amount. I subsequently sold the bike for a reasonable sum.
The Navigator certainly did nothing to enhance the Norton name. Whilst the basic concept of a lightweight 350 twin was a good idea, the way Norton designed and produced their bike was such as to make the Navigator a very poor buy; basically because it had been designed down to the low price that the market could bear. Its best point was the handling (aided by Norton’s knowledge of steering geometry and Roadholder forks), its worst engine durability. The 305cc Honda CB77 showed just how well a four stroke vertical twin could be designed. Given that the latter bike costs far less than the Navigator, these days, there’s no real competition.
Vince Dusang