The Saab-marine story picks up in the rain
In our first article about HubNut’s unusual giveaway, we left the story at the moment when Ian Seabrook announced that his tired but honest Saab 9-3 Convertible would be handed over to whoever found him first during a roaming livestream. The rules were simple and very HubNut: the winner had to be in the United Kingdom, had to bring a towel, and had to use a specific phrase when they finally reached him. That phrase, born from his running joke about the car’s tendency to take on water, was “Show me the Saab-marine” – a playful twist on “sub-marine” that stuck as the car’s informal name.
The follow-up came a few days later in the shape of two live videos rather than one seamless broadcast. British weather and British mobile coverage teamed up to make sure the day would not run smoothly. When Ian went live from a secret location in Northamptonshire, the rain was already working its way through his clothes and the Saab’s fabric roof. To make it even more on-brand, the 9-3 almost refused to start that morning and only came to life thanks to a jump pack he had wisely brought along. The car that was about to be given away still demanded attention to the very last moment.
Inside the first livestream, the mood was half treasure hunt, half survival exercise. Ian greeted viewers from a corner of a busy building, admitting there would be background noise and that he was deliberately hiding obvious clues from the camera. Outside, the classic-car meet around him was filling up despite the weather, and the Saab-marine sat in the rain waiting for the person who would claim it.
A secret location, a classic meet and a growing crowd online
The first live session slowly revealed fragments of the scene. Viewers learned that Ian was in Northamptonshire, in a building with sockets crooked enough to distract the chat, and in a place where classic cars were arriving continuously. Somewhere outside there was a Barkley, Triumphs, a Fiat from the late fifties, and later even a Saab Sonett. Inside there were automotive artworks on the walls, the smell of breakfast and coffee, and a lot of damp coats.
At the same time, chat messages poured in from all over: New Zealand, South Africa, County Durham, Burnley, the Isle of Wight, and plenty of UK locations that were just a bit too far away to make the trip. Channel members had already received an advance clue, and during the live stream Ian finally shared the same hint with everyone else. He dropped two words: “factory and provisions.” Anyone who combined that with the county and the visual hints in the background could, with enough digging, land on the website of Industry and Supply, the automotive themed café and art space near Northampton that was hosting the meet.
He asked viewers to play fair. Nobody was supposed to write the name of the venue in the chat; if you worked it out, you were meant to either keep it to yourself or get in the car and drive. He also reminded everyone to drive sensibly and obey speed limits. A free Saab was not worth treating British motorways like a rally stage.
John from Auto Shenanigans, a soaked Saab and a broken connection
As the first stream progressed, Ian had more than his own channel for company. Joining him was John from Auto Shenanigans, another UK YouTuber with a strong following among our readers. John had driven to the same venue in his own workhorse Saab, and together they decided to escape the crowded café by climbing into the very car that was about to be given away.
The two of them ended up sitting side by side inside the Saab-marine, using the car as a makeshift studio. It was a fitting setting: the headlining was still damp, water had recently been dripping onto the seats, and the whole car felt like a physical reminder of why towels were part of the rules. In that cramped cockpit they talked about the future of Auto Shenanigans. John explained that his big structured series – the A-roads and motorway projects that took him all over the country – were giving way to a slightly different format. There would be recurring themes, more flexibility and less relentless long-distance driving, but from the viewer’s perspective the content would still look familiar.
The conversation drifted into their different ways of working. Ian thrives on improvisation, finding stories on the fly and letting chaos shape the narrative. John, by contrast, scripts almost everything. He described writing days as an invisible but heavy part of the workload: entire days spent preparing lines so that a road trip flows smoothly once cameras are rolling. They laughed about the practical realities of filming near industrial sites, dealing with security guards, and trying to keep videos engaging when you have already driven several hundred miles before even pressing record.
And then the connection died.
In classic HubNut fashion, the moment people were most curious about – the period when someone might appear with a towel and the magic phrase – happened just as they drifted out of reliable Wi-Fi and into the black hole of mobile data. The stream cut out while the two of them were still in the car, and viewers were sent back to a loading screen.
A second livestream and a missing moment
When the second livestream started, it opened with a question from Ian to the returning viewers: did anyone see the car get claimed? The answer in the chat was immediate. Nobody had seen a thing. Between the walls of the café and the limitations of the O2 network, the crucial moment had slipped past the internet completely.
Rather than rewind, Ian decided to reconstruct what had actually happened. He explained that they had stepped outside with John to film around the parked cars when a Ford Fusion rolled into the car park. Both of them instantly felt that this was not just another visitor for coffee. The Fusion parked, a man got out carrying a towel, and the giveaway rules finally collided with real life.
They invited him on camera. His name is Sam, from the Rushden area, about twenty miles away. He had followed HubNut “since the Proton days” and had watched the channel for years as a regular subscriber rather than a paid member. What brought him to Northampton that morning was a combination of clues. The earlier battery video suggested roughly where the car might be; a Facebook post narrowed it down; the “factory and provisions” hint plus a bit of research did the rest. He simply decided to trust his deduction, pointed the Fusion toward Northamptonshire, and drove.
When he found Ian, he used the exact phrase that had been announced days earlier: “Show me the Saab-marine.” He had his towel. The rules were fulfilled. The car was his.
The new keeper of the Saab-marine
Sam’s arrival resolved the central question of the whole story: would someone really chase down a tired 9-3 Convertible with a leaking roof in heavy rain, just for the sake of owning it? The answer was yes. He did not arrive with a truck or a trailer. He arrived in an ordinary Ford Fusion and a mindset that said, “I’ll work the rest out later.”
Ian asked him whether he could give him a lift to collect his next car later in the day. Sam agreed without hesitation. In return, Ian handed him a Saab with a damp interior, questionable electrics, a history already documented in several videos, and a community watching from behind screens all across the world.
Speculation in the chat turned immediately to what might happen next. Some joked that Sam would drive directly to a scrap yard and cash the Saab-marine in for a few hundred pounds. Others hoped for a careful restoration. Ian kept his answer simple: the decision is now in the hands of the new owner. The car cost him real money when he bought it, but it has since earned its keep through content revenue and now passes on as a free project. Whatever Sam chooses to do will become the next chapter in the Saab-marine’s life.
Industry and Supply becomes the backdrop to a Saab handover
As the second livestream continued, the car itself almost faded from view behind the noise and warmth of the venue. Industry and Supply, revealed by name at last, turned out to be exactly the sort of place that fits this kind of story. It is part café, part gallery, part informal clubhouse, with automotive art on the walls, a mezzanine filled with objects to explore, and a car park that on that particular day contained everything from tiny 1950s microcars to a Honda NSX.
Ian used the opportunity to talk about how important it is to support spaces like this. They had only recently moved from a colder, World War II-era building into the current site, and days like this – packed, noisy, chaotic in a good way – demonstrate that there is a real appetite for community spaces where car people can meet offline. It is easy to forget that YouTube channels, Saabs and old French vans still rely on physical places, coffee counters and parking spaces to bring their audiences together.
Even as he tried to show more of the venue, the Wi-Fi coverage set limits. Moving too close to the entrance or out toward the car park risked killing the stream again. In the end, he stayed mostly pinned to one corner, passing the microphone between himself, John and the occasional visitor, while promising a separate high-resolution follow-up video to show the cars outside properly.
A Saab leaves, the story continues
By the end of the second live session, several things were clear. The Subaru-rivaling rain had finally eased off. Towels had become a kind of unofficial dress code, with some visitors arriving too late to win the car but determined to show their support anyway. Stickers were promised, coffee cups were emptied, and the Saab-marine sat outside with a new name on its registration document.
Ian wrapped up the day by thanking the venue staff, the viewers who followed both streams, the channel members who played along with the cryptic hints, and of course Sam for stepping into the story. He also teased the next part of his own journey: the drive home in a new, supposedly more sensible daily driver that would be revealed in a separate video.
For our readers, the giveaway closes one chapter and opens another. The 9-3 Convertible that once served as a slightly reluctant fleet member, then as the hero of an experiment in live treasure hunting, now moves into the hands of a viewer who was willing to chase a damp, aging Swedish soft top through wind and rain. The Saab-marine leaves HubNut’s fleet exactly as it should: under its own power, a little wet, surrounded by laughter, and with a story that is now firmly part of modern Saab folklore in the UK.
