It’s time once more to don our protective gauntlets, attach our safety harnesses and descend into the hazardous void that contains all that automotive literature that time forgot. Welcome back to The Carchive.
Last visit saw us drinking in the sheer value of the 1982 Skoda line. Today we’re paying scant regard to practicality and turning the dial on the fun-o-meter up a few notches, with a look at the Caterham 21.


“Designed, engineered and hand built in Britain, the new Caterham 21 is a dynamic masterpiece”
The Caterham 21 was so named as a celebration of the production of the famous “7” having reached that anniversary.
This early brochure set for the 21 was, in hindsight, was quite an optimistic release. The 21 was to be the flagship of the legendary Caterham range, yet only four dozen were ever built.

“…offered with high-tech composite or traditional lightweight aluminium bodywork rigidly mounted to its tubular space frame chassis, making this nimble two seater the most advanced evolution yet of the peerless Super Seven; the sports car benchmark for almost four decades”
Underneath that curvaceous body you’ll find an evolution of the skeleton of Colin Chapmans much imitated original Seven, as seen in the opening credits of The Prisoner, and at every single track day since then. Although the extra bodywork brought with it extra weight over the regular Super Seven, Wikipedia suggests that the new bodywork additions increased torsional stiffness by 50%.
Is the thought of that having the same effect on you?

“The cockpit design is dominated by symmetry and intimacy”
It was cramped. Intimate is such a polite word. The actual tub that you sat in was no wider than that of a regular Seven, the vestigial doors sitting high on absolutely massive sills, which had to be clambered over and did rather erode into the ease-of-use of the car.
It was practicality that formed one of the sharpest prongs of Caterhams marketing attack with the 21; the idea that the new machine should offer all the exuberance of the Seven in a more useable package. Hence we see the image of a man carefully tessellating a range of pieces of luggage into the open trunk. There’s no “after” view so I can’t vouch for whether it all fitted in or not, but assuming it was the optional Fitted Luggage set, it must have done.
The small additional pamphlet claims that there is space for “two sets of golf clubs”, and that there was additional footwell width compared to the Seven. The term “increased comfort”  is implied. But there was no mention as to whether there’s a working heater. Overall, there was no mistaking this for a civilised everyday car. It was still an out and out back-road warrior.

“Light, compact and powerful, Rover’s advanced all-alloy, 16 Valve, K-Series powerplant is perfect for the 21”
Yes, we all know how prone to head gasket failures and overheating Rover’s late and lamented “Kettle Series” engines were, but if maintained properly (fastidiously) they’re a cracking engine to sit behind. It worked pretty well in the Lotus Elise, didn’t it? In the Caterham Seven it was a match made in Heaven, and the same was true in the 21 where its light weight, revvy nature and pleasant noise were just about perfect.
All in, the 138hp Supersport version contributed to a total kerbweight of just 648kg (1428lb in shillings). Fun was definitely foremost on the menu.
And Ford Mondeo hatchback tail lights never looked so good.
(All images (now showing at 1900px for legibility) are of original manufacturer’s publicity materials. Copyright belongs to Caterham. Notice that I didn’t refer to the Seven as the “Se7en” even once. I don’t do that because it seems silly.)