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MCALEER: Quirky Nissans sensible cars to collect

Remember the Nissan Stanza? Well of course you don't. Sure it was pretty reliable, but it was also so boring just thinking about its boxy shape is ... *yawn* ... suddenly I need a nap.
Nissan Pao
Original promo material for the Nissan Pao had the popular little car cruising through winter wastelands, a laughable image given its lack of power. photo supplied

Remember the Nissan Stanza? Well of course you don't. Sure it was pretty reliable, but it was also so boring just thinking about its boxy shape is ... *yawn* ... suddenly I need a nap.

That was pretty much Nissan's ethos in the 1980s, after the more interesting Datsuns had all been forced into retirement, and even the Z had morphed from dedicated sportscar to luxury heavyweight. The high point was probably their pickup trucks, which have always been small and feisty, but beyond that Nissan was a sea of beige.

In Japan, that was something of a problem. While bland always sells well in the North American market, Japanese consumers of the '80s were flush with cash and looking for something with a bit more zip. This was especially true of younger buyers, who took one look at the efficient Nissan March (you may remember it as the Micra), and promptly headed for the nearest Honda dealership.

Nissan needed something interesting. They needed something to catch the eye and stir the imagination. They needed someone to help them build something unique to boost their brand image.

Well, they found him, and the result was four of the weirdest cars the world has ever seen.

In the 1960s, Japanese culture was as buttoneddown as was the America of the '50s. Conservatism was the order of the day, and anyone with a wild spark in their eyes tended to head for California.

One such young man was Nakao Sakai, an art school graduate who had become fascinated by the underground world of Japanese tattooing.

The subject was taboo in rigorous Japanese society, and there was also little place for it in mainstream American society.

However, in the wild, free-spirited San Francisco of the 1960s, Sakai found his own California gold rush. He began printing Tshirts with his tattoo-based designs, and the public couldn't get enough of them - at one point, he claims to have been making $300,000 a month.

It didn't last, of course, but you wonder if some of that California spirit seeped into Sakai's consciousness to eventually inform the cars he would go on to design. Just as the Datsun 240Z and the 510 owe their excellence to California car culture as interpreted in a Japanese way, Sakai's designs take some of their quirkiness and charm from the Golden State's love of the automobile.

Decades later, Sakai was working out of his own moderately successful design studio when he was approached by Nissan to develop a car. It was to be a concept, one of three shown at the 1987 Tokyo Motor Show. The first was called Prototype A, and it was designed by Nissan's in-house department. The third was called Prototype B2, styled by an Italian group. Sakai's car was called Prototype B1, and it was an instant hit.

It was so popular, in fact, that Nissan elected to put it into production under the name Be-1. They arranged for a subcontractor, the Aichi Machine Industry plant, to hand-assemble the bodies, and based the car on the humble March. They called the project Pike Factory.

The Be-1 was probably the first retro-styled car. Compact and cute, it had round headlights like an old British car, a cartoon-sized white speedometer, and colour-matched interior panelling. In many ways, it was almost exactly like the Mini Cooper that BMW would release in 2001.

Power, to use the term in its loosest possible sense, came from a 987 cubic centimetre singleoverhead-cam, eight-valve, four-cylinder engine. It made 52 horsepower, and then shunted them through either a five-speed manual transmission or a threespeed automatic. Happily, the Be-1 also weighed less than 700 kilograms, which meant it was actually sort of interesting to drive. If you've ever zipped around in an original Micra, then you already know the feeling: feeble, but fun.

At any rate, the quirky looks, low price, inexpensive operating costs, and cheap insurance all combined to make the Be-1 the hottest car to have in the late 1980s. The Pike Factory would only build 10,000 of them between 1987 and 1988, but they received orders for at least 100,000. A lottery had to be set in place - you couldn't just buy a Be-1, you had to win the chance to pay for one.

Given the success of their experiment, Nissan decided to go ahead and have Sakai design two more vehicles for them, both still based off the Micra platform. The first was the Pao.

Most common of all the Pike Factory cars - 50,000 of them were built - the Pao is weird in the best way possible. Supposed to look a bit like a Renault 4, it has stamped-looking sheetmetal like a VW Thing, a clamshell rear hatchback, external door hinges, and rear side windows that flip up. You could also get it with a huge retractable canvas sunroof, another European touch.

Like the Be-1, the Pao was immensely popular and sold out in three months. The one to have was probably the fivespeed manual, and the press materials of the time show this plucky little car venturing among dinosaurs in a Lost World setting, or fording through deep snow drifts. Wishful thinking, I'm afraid, what with the 12-inch wheels and miniscule ground clearance.

Still, it's absolutely adorable - a puggish, puckish car that's as cheap to run as its moreconservative Micra cousin. The car that followed it was even more desirable.

The third, and last, car Sakai would design for Nissan was the Figaro, a compact two-seater with a retractable roof in the style of a modern Fiat 500 convertible. Svelte and stylish, the Figaro is more polished than its stablemates, but is also hilariously small.

20,000 Figaros were built, and again a lottery was required to get into one. However, it was the car's second life that became really interesting, as greymarket examples made their way to the U.K., where a cult following sprang up. Guitarist Eric Clapton still owns one.

While the Figaro was the last of the March-powered minicars, Pike Factory also built a quirky cargo van. The S-Cargo was powered by a 1.5-litre engine that made a (very slightly) healthier 73 h.p., and it had a roomy rear cargo area.

As the name would indicate, the S-Cargo is capital-S Slow, a fact emphasized by the snailthemed hubcaps and floormats. Still, that's all part of the charm of this weird little van, which is eye-catching and surprisingly utilitarian. The optional removable sushi tray is a nice touch too.

All four Pike Factory cars were built between 1987 and 1991, and thus they're all importable into Canada under grey-market rules. Odds are, you've seen one or two of them out and about: the Eatery, a funky sushi restaurant near UBC, has a fleet of five Figaros.

In the stop-and-go of urban Vancouver traffic, these little bento boxes have found a new home. Their modest power levels are perfectly acceptable for city use, and they've got tight turning circles and are super easy to park.

Most of all though, they combine rarity with reliability, and parts aren't all that hard to come by. As with other Japanese domestic market imports, there are privateer mechanics to help keep these oddballs rolling.

As some of the early cars are now approaching 25 years of age, that makes them collectible as well. If you've got a sense of humour, it's all too easy to find a little extra garage space for one.

Brendan McAleer is a freelance writer and automotive enthusiast. If you have a suggestion for a column please contact him at mcaleeronwheels@gmail.com. Follow Brendan on Twitter: @brendan_mcaleer.