Record price for ’96 Mercedes-Benz SL500 after owner loses the key

12 April, 2017

Picture this: it’s 1996, you’ve just received your brand-new Mercedes-Benz SL500 and taken it for a brisk drive around a few blocks. 80-miles now adorns the odometer and you park it up to go about your business, returning to find the key has gone walkabouts. Would you then call it a day and never drive it again?

That’s exactly what the owner of this particular example did, and it recently sold for a record price 21 years later— £56,640 to be exact — by Coys at their Spring Classics auction at the Royal Horticultural Halls in London.  

Chris Routledge, CEO of Coys, said, “This is a fantastic price bearing in mind that a normal version of this car, with reasonable mileage, would probably be worth 20% of what this SL500 made today. An exciting sale and a new world record!”

The Mercedes-Benz SL500 R129 roadsters were produced from 1989 through 2002, featuring many innovative details for the time, such as electronically controlled damping and a hidden, automatically extending roll-over bar, electric windows and mirrors.

This is one of the more powerful and sought after M119 engined cars and also boasts a number of optional factory extras, including heated front seats, 6 CD multi-changer, upgraded radio and wood-leather steering wheel.

It’s far too nice to call a barn find … perhaps a time capsule, if you will? Either way, £56,640 is a staggering win for the owner.

“Gotcha!’’ The continuing tale of a Nissan/Datsun tragic – part two

In 1996, I was on a mission to buy a suitable pavement scorcher and visited the now-defunct Manukau City Car Fair. Unbelievably, among the sea of four-door utilitarian Japanese compacts was the absolute jewel in the crown, my automobile wet dream — a 1985 two-door R30 RS Nissan Skyline FJ20 Turbo five-speed manual in nice condition. The owner wanted $10,000 — a great deal.
But what did I do? I bailed out, paralysed by indecision. The money would have been a stretch, but it was the worst automotive choice I ever made. Instead, I went for a rusty Toyota Sprinter 8 Valve Twin Cam Coupé, which was pretty terminal from the get-go. I know. We’ve all done it, but there was really no excuse for passing up the Skyline, and I was haunted by that for years.

Last Tango in the Fast Lane

In the mid ’80s, I locked into a serious Nissan/Datsun performance obsession. It could have kicked off with my ’82 Datsun Sunny, though this would have been a bit of a stretch of the imagination, given its normally aspirated 1.2-litre motor — not the sort of thing to unleash radical road warrior dreams. But it did plant a seed, and it was a sweet little machine and surprisingly quick, in contrast to all the diabolical English offerings I had endured.
I was living in South Auckland at the time and was an unrepentant petrolhead. Motor racing was my drug of choice, and I followed the scene slavishly. Saloon car racing, with the arrival of the international Group A formula, was having a serious renaissance here and in Australia and Europe. There was suddenly an exotic air in local racing that had been absent for 15 years.
I was transfixed by this new frontier of motor racing that had hit our tracks in 1985–87 and the new array of machinery on display. In 1986, the Nissan Skyline RS DR30 made a blinding impression on me. The Australian Fred Gibson-run, Peter Jackson-sponsored team of George Fury and Glenn Seton were the fastest crew of the 1986 Australian Touring Car Championship. But Kiwi legend Robbie Francevic snuck through to win the Aussie Championship in his Volvo 240T after a strong start and consistent finishes.