Road Tests: Nissan Cabstar E110 Crewcab Tipper

On The Road

Our initial impression of the biggest Cabstar was less than sparkling, but on better acquaintance it’s obvious this is down to its flexible engine and long-legged gearing, which stop it feeling as lively as it really is. From cold the gearbox is a little notchy, but once warmed up a little, all forward gears bar first become perfectly acceptable, although the heavy bias to the second/third plane needs come concentration before it becomes second nature. A weak detent on reverse means it is much too easy to engage accidentally when you need second. This could benefit from the irritation of a warning bleeper. Second is the preferred gear for starting off, thanks to the dog-leg first-to-second shift, which never became pleasant. Fortunately, thanks to an impressively willing and flexible engine, a minimal number of gear changes are needed. In particular, third is an extremely handy ally around town. Engine noise is very variable. It’s pretty raucous when cold, and is also fairly vocal at low speeds with light loads, but things get considerably better when it’s working hard. Likewise the brakes, over-sensitive for some tastes when unladen, are excellent when loaded. No ABS was fitted, but brake testing on a wet track showed them to be easy to modulate, with just the slightest lock-up at walking pace. The umbrella handbrake ran out of travel before it would hold on a 1-in-3 slope. Strangely, in the suspension Nissan seems to have taken a step backwards, on paper at least, with a move from independent front suspension to a leaf-sprung beam. Nevertheless, the handling is generally very neutral and forgiving with no hidden surprises before it eventually displays slight understeer; again, it performs better with a full load. The ride is communicative but not unduly harsh, becoming a little jiggly on the worst surfaces, but rarely uncomfortable.

Cab Comfort

With twice as many seats on board, it could be argued that the cab is twice as important on this Cabstar. Thanks to the intrusion of the engine bulge at floor level, ensuring adequate legroom has made a huge amount of space at upper body level, with around a metre of seat pitch. With a higher GVW the Cabstar would make an ideal contender for the car recovery market. Access to the rear seats is easy, thanks to the huge, wide-opening rear doors, which share the same pressing on both sides. There’s plenty of room under the rear seats for all the daily paraphernalia of a crew of six. No central locking is provided, but the internal rear locks are just about reachable through an open front door. Up front there’s a good driving position if you’re under six feet tall, but it’s a bit cramped for taller drivers. The front of the engine hump is easily touched by the driver’s lower leg when using the clutch. Visibility is good, with a deep screen and dropped side-window front sections. The mirrors are definitely old tech, however. No doubt they would be cheap to repair, but with no blindspot mirror they belong to another era. The outer four occupants get full seat belts, while the inners get lap belts only, and there’s no airbag. The central seat at the front forms a useful drop-down desk, which comes in handy for the inevitable paperwork. The interior trim is a mixed bag, with lots of painted metal visible and a roof lining formed of foam-backed rubber. Grey is the predominant colour, with the exception of the seats, which are a sort of Argos sleeping bag blue/red/yellow pattern on grey cloth. A good heater, operated by the standard Japanese controls, warms the cab quickly and quietly, even at maximum. Apart from two large buttons (for hazard lights and rear fog lamps) below the instrument panel, and the headlamp leveller and hand throttle by the driver’s right knee, everything is controlled by stalks on the tilt-adjustable steering column. The clearly marked and easy-to-read panel houses a speedo, rev counter and temperature and fuel gauges, but there’s no clock. Other cab features include a washer bottle, which is visible from the driving seat (unfortunately, its motor is also highly audible); an excellent RDS/EON radio-cassette, whose fiddly controls demanded good sight; and a pair of feeble interior lights. What looks like a glovebox is actually the fuse box, but what looks like a blank trim panel is the glovebox.