French cars never, ever impressed me. My boss had one of those variable suspension Citroens and once had an accident because he was trying to warn someone backing up into us with the horn, which the French decided should be on the end of the turnsignal stalk. Apparently the French automakers were unfamiliar with the basic concepts of human factors engineering. Another friend bought the Renault Alliance which literally dissolved out from under him. Things were always falling off that junkmobile. C&D's "Car of the Year" - must have been 1911.
I agree. It got so that I didn't bother to drive the Jag if I knew heavy rains were coming. If I were doing it all over again, I would have used adhesive lined heat shrink tubing to cover the most vulnerable connectors since they're rarely disconnected for routine maintenance. It would have been a simple matter to slice them open with a razor if need be. I've seen people do the same with connectors for marine electronics and saltwater is far more troublesome, electrically speaking, than rainwater.
I had an overheating problem I was never able to solve. It meant that on really hot days I had to run with the A/C off, all the windows open and the heat on full blast. The Jag had a little popup ventilator scoop on the hood and when up, provided just enough additional cooling so that the engine thermostat wouldn't blow. Even with all the problems I learned how to be a Bondo master and an automotive electrical trouble shooter. I remember when the tranny started slipping, I took it to an alleged Jag expert who told me I needed a $1200 rebuild. Turned out it was just low on fluid. Fortunately the manual was very well done and had fold out schematics and more. Some things never got fixed.
The passenger power window used a scissors mechanism with a long center screw to raise and lower the window. Apparently the previous owner had an accident and the door was not properly straightened so that the lifting nut and the threaded rod both lost threads in critical areas. You would start to lower the window and it would move slowly until the stripped threads and then drop like a guillotine. I ended up disconnecting the motor and drilling a hole through the scissors assembly, permanently bolting it in the closed position after the window just fell open one rainy day with predictable results.
Got into a nearly homicidal grudge match with my neighbor because I came out of the house one day to find this (expletive deleted) bitch sitting on the porch watching her delinquent little boy trying to pry the Jaguar hood ornament off the car. "Shucks, he's just playing!" was her response. The little rugrat was eventually busted for breaking into ten different houses in the neighborhood. My first encounter with the little bastard was when I was moving in and he and his brothers were inspecting the boxes on my porch. I heard the little six year old fokker say to his older brother "What can we steal?" I assume he's been shived to death in prison by now, he was such a likeable little cuss. NOT!
-- Bobby G.