Every now and then, a car comes along that doesn’t just catch your eye — it gets under your skin. It carries the fingerprints, the sweat, the frustrations, and the triumphs of the person who built it. This is one of those cars. A 1969 Chrysler Valiant Barracuda, reborn in Malalane and known affectionately, and accurately, as Frankenfish.
She didn’t start out glamorous. Far from it. When her owner, Etienne Fouché, first found her, she was nothing more than a bare metal shell sitting flat on tired 14-inch wheels. Most would have walked away, or at best stripped her for parts. Etienne saw something worth saving — not to restore her to “factory correct” condition, but to shape her into a pure expression of what a muscle car should feel like: raw, honest, loud, and unfiltered.
In South Africa, the Valiant Barracuda carries a strange history. While America enjoyed fire-breathing big block ‘Cudas and early Dodge Demons, we received the same body shells rebadged as Valiants, usually fitted with Slant Sixes and aimed at the sensible market. The result? A reputation of being “granny cars” or cheap township runners. Yet under the badges and local spec plates, the bones are pure Mopar muscle. It just took the right kind of person — stubborn, patient, and slightly mad — to bring that identity back to the surface.
Etienne began at the deepest level: stripping the body to bare steel and reshaping it panel by panel. Months of bodywork followed — filler, sanding, primer, sanding again, and again, and again. And when it came time for paint? He didn’t send it out. He bought the gun, learned the technique, and laid down the colour himself. The shine we see today was earned one layer of sweat and sandpaper at a time.
The engine choice tells you everything you need to know about this build. Instead of chasing big-block bragging rights, Etienne went with a 1968-cast 318 LA small block paired to a 727 Torqueflite. Not the loudest choice. Not the flashiest. But the right one. Balanced weight. Good manners. Plenty of torque. And above all — that Mopar heartbeat that makes the rear tyres speak the language we all understand.
The block was fully reworked: bored, honed, crank cut, heads skimmed, new pistons, new bearings, new pumps — not just rebuilt, but renewed with intention. The rewiring was done from scratch using a new 20-circuit harness. The ignition was upgraded to Mopar electronic. The glass was refitted with fresh rubbers. Brakes, lines, prop shaft, exhaust, everything either rebuilt, replaced, or fabricated. The slots and BF Goodrich tyres weren’t chosen for fashion — they were chosen because they belong on a car like this.
Inside, the stock South African square gauges were thrown out. Etienne built his own instrument cluster and installed round, red-lit gauges that transform nighttime driving into something cinematic. It’s subtle. It’s bold. It’s exactly what this car needed.
This car does not pretend. It does not apologize. It does not try to be perfect. It is raw. Mechanical. Real. And that is where its beauty lies.
A lot of people talk about “built not bought.” Few actually finish the journey. Fewer still finish it with a car that is not only coherent, but soulful. Frankenfish has soul in every scratch, weld, and bolt.
And when that small block clears its throat and the rear tyres start speaking in stripes — you understand exactly why this car exists.
Mopar or no car.
Owner: Etienne Fouché Location: Malalane, Mpumalanga 1969 Chrysler Valiant Barracuda — 318 LA Small Block, 727 Torqueflite, 15” Slots, BF Goodrich Radial T/A, Edelbrock Performer Intake, Holley 600, block-huggers, and an attitude you can’t buy in a catalog.
