For the younger IORR's ,who have never heard these stations, imagine a BBC "music" channel, they only had one! They were playing Band music, like "Dead" Loss & His Orchestra, people like Frank Sinatra and that band that used to back him - AAAGGGHHH!! . .
Therefore these "pirate" stations filled a huge niche in the market and quickly drowned the BBC into the backwaters of broadcasting for what should have been forever, Harold Wilson thought otherwise. The BBC, fearful of losing their monopoly on broadcasting in the UK, pounded the government to do something and consequently these pirates were declared illegal on false charges and condemned to customs and government harassment. Most disappeared under the pressure, others got supplies from a more liberal minded Netherlands and in Caroline North's case. Eire, and struggled on.





THE STORY ,AS TOLD BY TOM LODGE

If I climbed the mast and looked down, our ship seemed too small to support me. And swinging up there was the nearest feeling to flying. But that day I had no time to fly. I had to get ready for the tender which was coming to take me ashore. I had a gig. A gig I had been looking forward to. The Rolling Stones concert.
As I climbed down from the mast, Mike Ahern was on the air introducing a song I liked playing too, Do Wha Diddy Diddy by Manfred Mann. There was a kinship among all of us on the ship, we were a ‘band of brothers’. And again ‘we few, we happy few’ and going ashore we took that spirit with us. That spirit came through the music, the on-air speaking and the way we interacted and played on board the ship.



After getting ready for my shore visit, I came on deck dressed in flashy Carnaby Street style clothes. It felt good to wear colour and style, to express the feelings of the music and the fun.
When the tender dropped me at the dock, I rushed to get a taxi. As soon as I got in the taxi, the driver said “Hey, I recognize you. You're Tom Lodge, the deejay. I'm a great fan of Radio Caroline. I really like what you guys are doing for rock 'n' roll. All me mates listen to you all the time, between fares, in the taxis. We're great fans.”
“That's great” I said. “We sure are happy to be here off the Isle of Man. Everyone here is so welcoming.”
When I went to pay the taxi driver he said “Hey! Could you autograph the money, Tom?”
“Sure.” Wow, that's fun, I thought.
I rushed through the stage door of the concert hall and was welcomed by Mick, Keith, Brian, Bill, Charlie and a few roadies. Brian came forward and together we went over the routine. Mick was pacing and checking with each person making sure all was understood. He was sipping a whiskey and Coke.
Keith suddenly said “Hey, there's something wrong with the equipment. I guess we're going to be late going on stage.”
“We're still working on it” said one of the roadies.
“How long will it take?” asked Bill.
“Half an hour, I think.”





From the audience, could be heard clapping and “We want the Stones! We want the Stones!”
Brian smiled and said “The audience is getting rather impatient.”
Mick said to one of the roadies “Do your best.”
I peeped out through the stage curtain. The audience looked restless. They were shouting and clapping, saying “When is the show starting? We want the Stones!”
Keith said “We've got to do something quick.”
“Okay” I said “I'll try and calm them down.”
Charlie laughed. “I wouldn't go out there if I were you. They'll kill you!”
“Don't worry” I said “I'm a pirate!” Everyone laughed.




Caroline's relationship with the Rolling Stones went through a sticky patch in 1966, as this cutting from Disc & Music Echo shows. Tom says that he totally ignored the directive from Phil Solomon and kept playing the Stones!





I picked up a bunch of incense that was lying on a table back stage. And waving it, I said “I'll take my chances.” I then lit the whole bunch of sticks, making them into a torch. Then, holding the torch high like the Statue of Liberty, I walked out and across the stage. Within a few seconds the audience settled into a silence of anticipation. Watching the audience, I waved the torch until the flame was blown out leaving a column of smoke rising from the incense. The audience waited. Carefully holding their attention, I passed out, one by one, the sticks of incense to those near the stage. The mood had changed. The audience was calm. We were connecting.
I went to the microphone and said calmly and seriously “Is Anthony Wedgewood Benn in the audience? Because if he is, come up here Anthony! So we can all pelt you with some good fresh tomatoes!” The audience roared with laughter.
From the corner of my eye I could see Bill Wyman signaling to me that it was okay to start. “Okay!” I boomed across the hall. “At last you can all go wild! Hold your breath. For the one and only, the greatest group of all time, the Rolling Stones!!!”
The Rolling Stones burst on stage. The crowd went wild. The music came on with a bang as they played Under My Thumb. The girls were screaming. The guys were jumping up and down. The music was solid, powerful, beating deep into the bodies as Mick's voice opened up the minds and hearts of a new generation. Here was the kernel of the freedom. We were working hand in hand. We were out at sea, on the air waves, and the bands were in the concert halls. This was the battering ram of freedom.
[www.offshoreradio.co.uk]



I am a Frenchie ,as Mick affectionately called them in the Old Grey Whistle Test in 1977 .

Radio Caroline

Tom Lodge was one of the very first offshore disc-jockeys in the UK. He joined Radio Caroline in 1964. He took part in the epic round-Britain broadcast made from the original Caroline ship, the mv.Fredericia; he was on board the mv.Mi Amigo when she lost her anchor and was washed up on the beach; and he was one of the station's most popular broadcasters, presenting the Breakfast Show on both ships. He was there while history was being made and he has very kindly offered to share his memories with us. We will be adding two or three chapters of Tom's story each month.
CHAPTER ONE: Tom meets Ronan and joins Radio Caroline. It was March 1964. I had dropped into a pub on the Kings Road for a pint. The radio behind the bar tender was blaring some BBC Light Programme music such as Frankie Vaughan or Victor Silvester or maybe even Cliff Richard. I said to the bar tender “That's pretty awful music.”
“So?” said the bar tender, “That's the best we've got.”
A young feller sitting at the bar next to me piped up with an Irish accent “Don't you be worrying. We'll soon be putting out the finest rock 'n' roll and you can say ‘good bye’ to that stuff.”
“How's that?” I asked.
“Oh we've got a ship off the coast and in a few days we'll be on the air.”
“Yeah?” I said with enthusiasm. “Hey, that's great! Do you need any more deejays?”
“Why, are you in radio?”
“I freelance for the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation. But I'd rather be deejaying, playing rock 'n' roll music.”
“Well that's real dandy. When can you start?”
“Whenever you want.” I said. “Hey, my name's Tom Lodge” I added, putting out my hand to shake.
“Good. I'm Ronan O'Rahilly” he said, taking my hand in a warm grip.
That was how I moved from the CBC to Radio Caroline.
In a few days I was on the air. That first day we went out to the ship, we went in a fishing boat. The seas were a little rough but the sea was already in my bones. The rougher the better.
With us were Chris Moore, Simon Dee and a few others I forget. This was the M.V. Fredericia, a Danish passenger ferry that Ronan had bought and rigged up for radio in the Irish port of Greenore. She was an elegant lady with a large galley where we ate, sorted new record releases, played cards and swapped the latest gossip. But the greatest time was being on the air. At last I could play the music I loved. My favourites at that time were the Rolling Stones' Not Fade Away which shot up to number four, the Hollies' Just One Look and Manfred Mann's hit 5-4-3-2-1. I believe I was on the air for four hours a day but sometimes there was a shortage of deejays and so I would do more. I was enjoying every minute. But the strange thing about radio is you do not know who is listening and how many. It is kind of like I was in my living room playing my favourite records and talking to the wind. But I loved it.
Our schedule on the ship was two weeks on and one week ashore. That was the schedule but it hardly ever worked out that way because most of the time we were short staffed. Not to worry because the two things I loved the most had come together: the sea and the music.
I remember going ashore and visiting Ronan in some crummy little office in London, a place where our supplies could be organised. We were all like kids who had discovered the greatest, never ending, cookie jar.
And then two things happened: Ronan created Caroline House at 6 Chesterfield Gardens in Mayfair and, at about the same time, another ship sailed within three miles of us, dropped anchor and started broadcasting. Everything changed. We had suddenly become grand in Caroline House and, at the same time, we had to deal with competition. And that was a big problem because the advertisers instantly stopped buying ads. They said they would wait to see which had the bigger audience, the new station Radio Atlanta or us, Radio Caroline.
Now we had two enemies, the British government and Radio Atlanta. But we had the spirit of enthusiasm and were determined to find a solution.
CHAPTER TWO: The battle with Radio Atlanta. Anchored three and a half miles off Felixstowe, Suffolk, and with our 168 foot mast, we gained immediate attention from passing ships and people on shore. Yes, we were strange. We were a new mark on the ocean horizon. The tall mast made our ship look unique. I felt it had an appearance of grandeur, it was a visual statement, but more so, it was a huge audio statement. We were definitely here. Our music blasted through the barricades of the British establishment's music censorship. We were about freedom. At this time there was still concern about rock 'n' roll. Rock 'n' roll seemed to encourage a freedom that was unpredictable, from Elvis' undulating hips, to the sexual implications of the beat. Until that Easter Sunday in 1964 when we went on the air, Britain had only thirty minutes of pop music a week from the BBC Light Programme and an evening of crackley music broadcasting from Radio Luxembourg, a radio station that played only a one minute taste of each record. And then, suddenly, because of us, there was rock 'n' roll galore(izobilje). And not only that, we were a bunch of young guys, full of life, and willing to risk everything on the high seas to share this music. Ronan was only twenty four and some of us were younger. In Westminster and Whitehall there was a lot of head shaking, tut-tutting and finger wagging but the music was our boss, not the British government. Our way was for expression and freedom, for life and fun. A few weeks after we went on the air our supremacy was challenged. I had just finished an on-air show, with the last number being Good Golly Miss Molly by the Swinging Blue Jeans, when I looked out the porthole and there, close by, large against the horizon, was another ship with a tall mast. Was this another broadcasting ship, I wondered.
I went running up to the bridge. Simon Dee and the captain were looking out to sea with binoculars. “What ship is that?” I asked.
“I'm not sure” said Simon “but they have a very tall mast.”
Looking to the captain, I said, “How about getting them on the radio and finding out who they are? And what they are doing here next to us.”
The captain picked up the radio phone and said “This is M.V. Fredericia of Radio Caroline, the captain speaking. Do you read me?”
From the speaker coming through loud and clear, we heard “Yes, we read you. This is M.V. Mi Amigo of Radio Atlanta.”
I felt a rush in my belly(trbuh). My mind was rushing through many questions. I thought “What the hell's happening?” Without a second thought I took the microphone from the captain and asked “Who is Radio Atlanta? Where are you from?”
“We're from Australia.”
“Thanks” I said. “OK. Over and out.” I felt stunned. What was going on? We were meant to be the king. We owned the waves. What was another radio ship doing here? And so close - only three miles away. Something's not right I thought. I turned to the Captain and said “Radio Atlanta from Australia? We'd better get Ronan on the line quickly.”
Simon was staring out at the ship and then, before we could move, the radio came alive. “This is Ronan. Caroline, do you read me?”
I grabbed the radio phone. “Yes! This is Tom. Good you called. We were just about to call you.”
“There is a ship near to you. Can you see it?” asked Ronan.
“Yes” I said. “They say they are M.V. Mi Amigo. Radio Atlanta from Australia. What's going on?”
“I know.”
“Who are these guys” I asked “and why are they anchoring next to us?”
“Well, Tommy baby, we've got competition. Another radio ship is going to start broadcasting in a few days.”
“In a few days!!” I said with exasperation. “In a few days?”
“And they're going to be broadcasting only three miles away from us!”
“Three miles” I shouted “That's going to confuse everyone.” Now I was annoyed.
“It already has confused our potential advertisers.” Ronan replied. “There is a hold on all advertising until they can determine which one of us has the larger audience.”
“For God sakes Ronan. We've been on the air just a few weeks and we've already got competition from Australia? Who is this Radio Atlanta guy anyway?”
“Look, cool it, Tommy baby. It's OK. The man's name is Allan Crawford.”
“Allan Crawford?” I started to remember. “I know. That's the publisher and record company owner from Australia.” I remembered Ronan mentioning his name before about some other ship at Greenore, when he was rigging out Radio Caroline. But I had thought no more about it. “What are you going to do now?” I asked.
“I've called for a meeting with Allan Crawford. But for now, you go on with the show. We've got to keep our listeners in the pink. That's all that matters.”
“OK Ronan, we'll give them a hell of a fight.” And in that moment, from a distant speaker, came our radio music, the Beatles with Can't Buy Me Love.
Now there was a new tension in the air. An unknown. A feeling of uncertainty. We had stormed into a wide open field where the desires of much of the population of Great Britain were not being satisfied. Where the thirst for rock 'n' roll, fun and life were waiting for an opportunity to feast. We had come to unleash an endless party of music, fun and, maybe but unspoken, a promise of permissiveness. The contraceptive pill had arrived and there was youthful desire in the air. This was meant to be our party but now, right next door, there was Radio Atlanta. Now what? Ronan had said that the advertisers were delaying until they could find out who had the larger audience. Advertising was our life blood. So in the meantime, would we go broke? These were the questions that surged around in my mind as I returned to the studio.
CHAPTER THREE: The Top Forty Battle. I was sitting on the stern deck watching an approaching boat. It looked like the tender that, from time to time, would bring us supplies. The sun was shining and the sea was calm. Good, I thought, the boat will bring fan mail. I loved the fan mail, the support, the enthusiasm, but above all the attention from so many young girls. As I watched the boat getting larger, I could hear over our radio speakers, Simon Dee introducing Anyone Who Had A Heart by Cilla Black. Just then Jerry Leighton popped his head out the square porthole behind me and said “Looks like the tender is coming. Maybe there will be some more deejays.”
“Looks like Ronan's on board.” I said. The tender came along side and Ronan jumped across the moving gap onto our deck. “Okay, you guys” he said “I don't have much time. We have to talk. We'll meet in the studio so that Simon can be with us.”
In the broadcast studio we all crowded around Ronan, wanting to hear the news. “Well it's like this” Ronan began “Allan Crawford and I have made a deal. Radio Atlanta will become Radio Caroline South.”
“Have you bought the ship from Allan Crawford?” I asked.
“Oh, goodness no! He'll still own the ship but we have made a joint venture for selling advertising, otherwise we still run our own ships. This ship will sail up north and become Radio Caroline North and that way we'll cover the whole of the U.K.”
“Where will Caroline North be anchored?” asked Jerry Leighton.
“That's top secret” replied Ronan. “You'll know when you are almost there. If the government was to find out, there could be problems. But that's not the question. The question is, who is staying on this ship to go up north and who is going over to the Mi Amigo for Caroline South?” Without any hesitation, Simon said “I'll go over to the Mi Amigo.” Jerry Leighton and I decided to stay on our ship and sail up north. I liked this ship and, besides, the thought of sailing around the coast and broadcasting as we went was most appealing.
“Okay” said Ronan “Jerry, you take over Simon's show and Simon you grab your things and come with me over to the Mi Amigo.”
“That quick?” said Simon.
“Yes, this is happening now.”
“Well in that case” said Simon “I'm taking the top forty”.
“No you are not!” I shouted.
“Damn right I am!” he said as he moved towards the box of top forty records.
I dived for the box, grabbed it first and took off out to the deck.
“I need that! shouted Simon. “There'll be plenty of records already on the other ship.” I shouted back. “This is our life line.”
“Okay, enough of this” said Ronan. “We don't have time for this. We have to go Simon.”
Ronan moved quickly and jumped back onto the tender. I scrambled up high, right onto the top of our ship, clutching the box of top forty. I knew that without these records we would be nothing. Our whole existence was in this small box of 45s, in this little box of vinyl. Simon was still shouting at me as he stood on the tender and sailed away. And then amid the silence with the sound of the waves slushing on the side of the ship, Jerry Leighton and I looked at each other and began to laugh.
We both jumped up and down and said, “Hey, hey, we're going up north.”

CHAPTER FOUR: Sailing Around the British Coast. July 3rd 1964 was warm and sunny. That day was exhilarating. I had woken and looked out the porthole and there was the coast of Kent and then the White Cliffs of Dover. We were on the move. It was 5.30 a.m. and just in time for me to go on the air. I had no idea where we were sailing to. The only person who knew was our Dutch captain. He had been given sealed orders. The whole concept was exciting. Every moment was an adventure. Now it was time for me to go on the air and play music.
In the studio, I hit the button on the cartridge tape player and out came Rinky Dink by the Johnny Howard Band, my theme tune. “Good morning to you” I said on the air “This is Tom Lodge with a beautiful Caroline morning and some music for you to march around the breakfast table to, while we sail around the coast of England. Here's a great sound from the Animals with their new release The House of the Rising Sun.
Alan Price's organ sang across the airwaves followed by the voice of Eric Burdon. “There is a house in New Orleans...” We were off and sailing. It was a Saturday, a ‘let's go to the seaside day’. A day when there would be thousands of people all along the English coast, an opportunity to connect with a whole new audience as they sunbathed and swam, and we played the most popular music.
After I had been on the air for two hours, Jerry Leighton came down and took over. We were the only deejays on board so we had agreed to do two hours on the air and two hours off. I went out on deck to stretch. I could see we were approaching Beachy Head and I wanted to get a closer look. On the bridge I scanned the shoreline with a pair of binoculars. “Oh my God!” I shouted. For there on Beachy Head were crowds of people. I mean it was covered with people. Something was happening on shore. People had come to see us sail by. I went rushing down to the studio.
“Jerry!” I said “There are thousands of people watching us sail by!” I scrambled back up the ladders to the bridge, grabbed a mirror and began flashing the sun onto the shore. This was more than I had ever dreamed of.
When it was my turn to go back on the air, I said “Those of you girls on the beach listening to Radio Caroline, take your mirror out of your purse and reflect the sun at us, reflect it onto Radio Caroline so that we can see you. You can't miss us, we're the ship with the big, big mast.”
Suddenly it happened. The coastline lit up with flashing lights. The whole coastline was sparkling. This went on all day, all along the coast. We kept reminding our listeners that we were the ship with the big, big mast. And as the sun gently moved down into the west, people began flashing car headlights. We flashed lights back and spoke to them on the air and played hits like Lulu's Shout, The Mojos' Everything's Alright and the number one hit of the day You're My World by Cilla Black.
That evening our captain, Captain Hangerfelt, came into the studio. We put him on the air and with his strong Dutch accent, he dissolved the mystery of our destination. He announced that we were heading for the Isle of Man and were going to drop anchor in Ramsey Bay.
The next morning we were off the north coast of Cornwall and Devon. Again it was a clear, blue, gentle, welcoming sea. It had been dark when we rounded Land's End but now with the sun again we were ready to draw attention to ourselves. On the air I said “It's Sunday morning and I sure miss breakfast in bed and reading the Sunday papers. But in the meantime here's a movin' Chuck Berry song, No Particular Place To Go.
Then within twenty minutes of those words “...reading the Sunday papers” a speed boat rushed out from the coast, came alongside Caroline, and threw a bundle of newspapers onto our deck. The immediate response was exciting. In all my years in radio I had never experienced such a close connection with the audience. As we sailed round Wales, a calm settled over us. The coast was no longer responding with lights or boats or mirrors. This coastline was sparsely populated. In my on-air radio talk, I dropped in three or four Welsh words that my mother had taught me. Many years later I met a Welsh farmer who had been listening and enjoyed my badly pronounced Welsh. Our ship moved smoothly through the water. There was a fullness in the air, a relaxation, a contentment. It felt good.
“This is a mellow time” I said. “And here is some music to support this calm feeling. It's the B-side of the record. It should have been the A-side. I'm dedicating it to all the listeners who can receive us across the mountains of Wales. Here's the Four Seasons and Silence is Golden. The night came down and the music we were playing felt all pervasive. It was like the dark was enclosing the sounds and making them more intense.
The next day we arrived at the Isle of Man. “Hello Isle of Man” I said on the air. “This is Tom Lodge. If you're listening to Radio Caroline, we'd like you to use your mirrors to reflect the sun onto our ship, so we can see you! Or if you don't have a mirror handy, flash your car head lights.”
Nothing happened. We tried everything. Nothing happened. No response. “Hey, Jerry” I said “What's going on? Nobody's responding.”
Jerry was just as mystified. “I don't know.” he said.
“Something must be wrong” I said. “Maybe we're not welcome here.”
CHAPTER FIVE: The Isle of Man's response. This was strange. We were being loved by millions of people in England. All along the coast we had been cheered and welcomed with mirrors and car headlights and now that we had arrived at our destination, the island off which we were planning to spend a long time, now there was no response. To be not welcomed by the Isle of Man would be most awkward. This was our new home and we needed their support for this battle against the British establishment to work. Today it may not seem so important but the music we were playing, the opening into the music world for new groups and artists, the possibilities for new record labels to emerge was a David-and-Goliath battle. We needed the support of the people of the Isle of Man.
Then coming out from the coast, I saw a small boat. Not a fishing boat or any other boat that we were used to, but a canoe. A canoe with two figures rhythmically paddling in our direction. We watched with interest. They slowly drew nearer. We could see that the two figures were two men, two men paddling as if they could go like that forever.
The canoe came along side Radio Caroline. One of the men handed up an envelope to Jerry who was leaning on the railing. And as he handed Jerry the note he said “My wife wouldn't rest until I brought you this.”
They paused briefly and then straight away, without another word, canoed back to shore.
I had put a long piece of music on and came down to see what this message was and how we were being received.
Jerry opened the letter. From the fold in the page he took out a piece of heather. And then out loud he read the note. “Welcome to the Isle of Man.” That's all it said. Then suddenly Jerry laughed with relief. “Oh! That's amazing!” he said. “Yes! Now we are really welcomed by the people of the Isle of Man. This is it! These people have said yes.”
We both waved to the receding men in their canoe and shouted “Thanks a lot guys.” The two men waved back and returned to paddling. Yes, the Isle of Man had welcomed us, but at the same time things were heating up back in London. The headlines in one newspaper read “PLAN TO SEIZE PIRATE RADIO.” And later, after the autumn election, when Anthony Wedgewood Benn, became the Postmaster General, the man in charge of the ministry that controlled radio, he went on television and said “The pirates are a menace and I don't believe, at all, that the public wouldn't support action to enforce the law. The pirate radio ships have no future at all. I'm quite convinced of that” And on and on, how we were a menace to shipping and breaking the law. But the truth was we were not breaking any laws. We were beyond the three mile limit, outside of the jurisdiction of Great Britain. We were away from all shipping lanes and in international waters and therefore under no country's laws. And even though we were named a ‘pirate’ the fact is we were simply an off-shore radio broadcasting ship.
In fact the British government recognized us as being outside of their jurisdiction. They treated us as foreigners. When we came ashore we had to go through customs with our passports. And then later, when Edward Short took over the post of Postmaster General from Wedgewood Benn, he announced on TV “I promise legislation that will put all pirate stations off the air.”
It was a funny game. It was a battle. But the music was flourishing. We were pushing in every direction. We accepted no limit to play and fun, and with our twenty four hours of rock 'n' roll there was no end to the party. At the same time there was continual resistance from the establishment with their desire to be in total control and with their determination to shut us down. But we had the audience. We had the growing support of an enthusiastic population, a support that was growing by the millions. Yes, our energy was high. Soon our on-air radio crew expanded to include Alan ‘Neddy’ Turner, who had been our studio technician as we sailed north, Tony Jay, Big Jim ‘Murph the Surf’ Murphy and then, many a listener's favourite, the young fellow from Liverpool, Mike Ahern. Mike and I became close friends. We had a similar feel about radio. Radio is organic. It needs to flow with the moment. The announcer needs to be in tune with what's happening now, feel the music he is playing. Listen to the relationship between the music, his voice, and any other sounds he introduces. He is creating an audio collage. An audio collage which touches the feelings of the listener. He is always, and only, speaking to one person even though he may have a million listeners. Radio is an intimate medium, unlike books or television. The voice is close and can touch you deeply if the deejay is speaking directly from his/her feelings. When radio is working, a listener will feel that the deejay is talking directly to them. This is what we were doing on Radio Caroline North. This was the power of our programming.
One day I got a message that I was to go ashore and be the M.C. for a Rolling Stones concert in Douglas, the capital of the island nation. I was extremely excited. I loved the Stones and this would give me a chance to spend some time with them.
CHAPTER SIX: The Rolling Stones Concert. (13 august 1964) If I climbed the mast and looked down, our ship seemed too small to support me. And swinging up there was the nearest feeling to flying. But that day I had no time to fly. I had to get ready for the tender which was coming to take me ashore. I had a gig. A gig I had been looking forward to. The Rolling Stones concert.
As I climbed down from the mast, Mike Ahern was on the air introducing a song I liked playing too, Do Wha Diddy Diddy by Manfred Mann. There was a kinship among all of us on the ship, we were a ‘band of brothers’. And again ‘we few, we happy few’ and going ashore we took that spirit with us. That spirit came through the music, the on-air speaking and the way we interacted and played on board the ship. After getting ready for my shore visit, I came on deck dressed in flashy Carnaby Street style clothes. It felt good to wear colour and style, to express the feelings of the music and the fun.
When the tender dropped me at the dock, I rushed to get a taxi. As soon as I got in the taxi, the driver said “Hey, I recognize you. You're Tom Lodge, the deejay. I'm a great fan of Radio Caroline. I really like what you guys are doing for rock 'n' roll. All me mates listen to you all the time, between fares, in the taxis. We're great fans.”
“That's great” I said. “We sure are happy to be here off the Isle of Man. Everyone here is so welcoming.”
When I went to pay the taxi driver he said “Hey! Could you autograph the money, Tom?”
“Sure.” Wow, that's fun, I thought.
I rushed through the stage door of the concert hall and was welcomed by Mick, Keith, Brian, Bill, Charlie and a few roadies. Brian came forward and together we went over the routine. Mick was pacing and checking with each person making sure all was understood. He was sipping a whiskey and Coke.
Keith suddenly said “Hey, there's something wrong with the equipment. I guess we're going to be late going on stage.”
“We're still working on it” said one of the roadies.
“How long will it take?” asked Bill.
“Half an hour, I think.”
From the audience, could be heard clapping and “We want the Stones! We want the Stones!”
Brian smiled and said “The audience is getting rather impatient.”
Mick said to one of the roadies “Do your best.”
I peeped out through the stage curtain. The audience looked restless. They were shouting and clapping, saying “When is the show starting? We want the Stones!”
Keith said “We've got to do something quick.”
“Okay” I said “I'll try and calm them down.”
Charlie laughed. “I wouldn't go out there if I were you. They'll kill you!”
“Don't worry” I said “I'm a pirate!” Everyone laughed.
I picked up a bunch of incense that was lying on a table back stage. And waving it, I said “I'll take my chances.” I then lit the whole bunch of sticks, making them into a torch. Then, holding the torch high like the Statue of Liberty, I walked out and across the stage. Within a few seconds the audience settled into a silence of anticipation. Watching the audience, I waved the torch until the flame was blown out leaving a column of smoke rising from the incense. The audience waited. Carefully holding their attention, I passed out, one by one, the sticks of incense to those near the stage. The mood had changed. The audience was calm. We were connecting.
I went to the microphone and said calmly and seriously “Is Anthony Wedgewood Benn in the audience? Because if he is, come up here Anthony! So we can all pelt you with some good fresh tomatoes!” The audience roared with laughter.
From the corner of my eye I could see Bill Wyman signaling to me that it was okay to start. “Okay!” I boomed across the hall. “At last you can all go wild! Hold your breath. For the one and only, the greatest group of all time, the Rolling Stones!!!”
The Rolling Stones burst on stage. The crowd went wild. The music came on with a bang as they played Under My Thumb. The girls were screaming. The guys were jumping up and down. The music was solid, powerful, beating deep into the bodies as Mick's voice opened up the minds and hearts of a new generation. Here was the kernel of the freedom. We were working hand in hand. We were out at sea, on the air waves, and the bands were in the concert halls. This was the battering ram of freedom. Caroline's relationship with the Rolling Stones went through a sticky patch in 1966, as this cutting from Disc & Music Echo shows. Click to magnify. Tom says that he totally ignored the directive from Phil Solomon and kept playing the Stones!
CHAPTER SEVEN: The Hurricane Next morning I felt as if I had been steam rolled. I took a taxi from my hotel to the pier in Ramsey to catch the tender back to the ship. What a night that had been. The concert was a party but the after-concert was a bigger party. A smorgasbord of delightful girls, a feast of sensual surprises and a feeling that nothing would ever stop this fun from rolling on. But that morning the sky was dark, a wind was blowing and beating with squalls of rain. I staggered out to the tender and the skipper, in yellow rain wear, was waving to me. “Come quick!”
I ran the best I could. “What's happening?” I asked.
“There's a storm coming” he answered. “The report is it's a hurricane. Quick!”
I jumped onto the tender and immediately we headed out to sea. The wind was peeling off the tops of the water, throwing it into our faces. The waves were beginning to build. Our little boat pushed on, bouncing on the waves, out to Caroline. Alongside the ship I shouted “goodbye” to the skipper and jumped across the swirling heaving mass of water to the deck of Caroline. Mike Ahern was there to greet me. “It's good you made it” he said. “We're battening down the hatches. We're in for a storm.”
After dumping my things in my cabin, I headed up to the bridge to see what was happening. Captain Hangerfelt pulled me close. “There's a hurricane warning. We have to pull up anchor and start the engines.”
“How bad is it?” I asked.
“We have to head into the wind. Our tall mast could cause us to capsize if we become broadside to the oncoming waves.”
“What can I do?” I asked.
“Everything must be secured. Any loose objects will be thrown around and broken. Nothing can be left loose.”
The ship was hit by a wave. A book and a mug were thrown off the bench and went crashing into the bulkhead.
“That is something else!” I shouted. “These sure are big waves coming in. I'm going to check out the studio.”
Holding onto the rail, I pulled myself along the deck to reach the door of the cabin. A wave crashed over the ship. Just in time I made it through the door. In the broadcast studio, Mike was taping pennies to the turntable pickup heads to keep them in the groove. Even though the ship was rolling, this extra weight seemed to work.
“It's good you're here” said Mike. “It's been a long morning. I need a break.”
I sat down at the microphone and as the record ended I said “That was She's Not There by the Zombies”. The microphone was suspended from the ceiling so that it would not pick up the vibrations of the ship's engines. But, because of that, the microphone was swinging back and forth with the rolling of the ship. So, as I spoke, I too had to follow the mic back and forth. But I loved it! I was having fun. “Hey ” I continued on the air “we are having some storm here. We are trying to keep the needle in the groove but bear with us if the rolling ship sends the needle crashing across the record. Just send us good thoughts and we'll keep sending you good music.”
The next record started. There was the sound of an organ playing and over the music I said “Here's the song that made Ronan launch Radio Caroline. It's Georgie Fame and Yeh Yeh”
The music moved, the needle stayed in the groove and the ship rocked and rolled.
Within half an hour the storm was full on, with waves crashing over the ship. Whenever a wave hit the ship's bow, the bow would plunge deep down into the wave, lifting the stern out of the water, freeing the propellers from the sea's resistance and sending the engines racing with a roar. Each wave was a wall of water. And before each wall was a deep trough into which we fell. This was the rollercoaster ride extraordinaire! The waves would crash right over the bridge. This 763-ton ship was thrown up and down like a toy, even though we had 300 tons of concrete in the hold as ballast. The captain was holding us steady into the waves. If we got knocked sideways, because of our 168 foot mast, we would have capsized. But straight into the wind we went, straight into the waves and still we stayed afloat.
The storm lasted all day and all night. When the rolling of the ship was too much to keep the needle in the groove, we switched to playing tapes. But the music kept going and we took turns being on the air. When it was my break I went down to my cabin to try and get some sleep. This was difficult. I jammed myself in the bunk but I was rolled and tossed. Eventually, exhausted, I fell asleep. I know I fell into a deep sleep because, when I awoke, I had no idea where I was. The storm was over. The sun was shining through the port-hole. I looked out. The sun was sparkling on the water and the ocean was gently rolling. I looked around my cabin. It was in a big mess. Time to clean up. As I was tidying up, Mike came down and said “Hey, Tom, there's a whole pile of new releases that we haven't looked through yet. Have we got some time to do that now?”
“Sure” I said and went up to the lounge.

CHAPTER EIGHT: Breaking the Who. As I went up on deck, there was Jerry throwing some of our old discarded records into the ocean. They would fly like a frisbee. Every week we would receive hundreds of LPs and 45s. Only a few were worth playing. It use to amaze me how much poor music was released. If we were lucky, five percent would be good. We enjoyed this sport of seeing them fly across the waves. Sometimes we could make them skim like pebbles.
“Here, let me have some” I said as I took a pile of 45s. And then looking at the label, I said “Hey, you can't throw this one away.”
“Which one is that?” asked Jerry.
“This is that new group called the Who” I replied.
“Let me see. Oh that's trash.”
“No Jerry, I like this one.” I read the label. “I Can't Explain. Yeah. I want to play this on my next show.”
“Be my guest. Everyone else thinks it's trash. I mean it's just a bunch of noise.”
“Good noise!” I said. “It's got great energy. It's got that ‘let-it-all-hang-out’ feeling. I'm tired of all this ‘nicey-nicey’ music. I guess I'm a rebel at heart.” (By April of 1965 I Can't Explain reached number 8 in the charts.)
We flipped a few more records into the sea then I said “Okay, Jerry. Mike wants us to look through a pile of new releases. He's up in the lounge.”
In the lounge, on the table, were piles of records. I took one and played it on the turntable. We all listened to a bit of it.
“Good one!” Neddy said. Everyone agreed. That one went in the ‘Yes’ pile.
I played another record.
“Naw!” was the general response. That one went in ‘No’ pile.
And so it went on, with most records going into the ‘No’ pile, a few into the ‘Yes’ pile and some into the ‘Maybe’ pile. We also had our own favourites pile, our personal choices. This ritual was carried out whenever new records came on board.
It was the beginning of 1965 when Tired Of Waiting For You by the Kinks, The Last Time by the Rolling Stones, Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood by the Animals and It's Not Unusual by Tom Jones all arrived on board. With these we were all unanimous: these should go in the ‘Yes’ pile. If it hadn't been for the offshore radio stations, many of these records and many of these artists would never have been heard. Jay Thomas, on Ed Sullivan's Rock 'n' Roll Classics said “In 1965 the release of his (Tom Jones) first single It's Not Unusual was considered too hot for BBC radio. So a pirate radio station called Radio Caroline broke the song in Britain.”
Later that summer another Who record appeared and again there was a “No!” from everyone.
“I like it” I said.
“How could you like that?” asked Mike.
“It's just a lot of noise” said someone else.
“Anyway Anyhow Anywhere” said Neddy, reading the label. “No way, not now, not here. Huh! And they're call The Who. Weird name.”
“Okay, you guys, I like it. I'm going to play it on my morning show.”
“Cheers!” said someone. “How about another beer?” said someone else and then one of the guys ran down to the shower room and came back and started spraying us with shaving foam. We ran out onto the deck and the chase was on. Someone climbed the mast and someone else grabbed a rope and swung down from an upper deck. And when the night came, we walked around the deck holding a fluorescent tube high in the air and, because of the strong radio power coming off our mast, the tube would light up. We were the Jedi warriors before they had been invented.
A few weeks later, I had just returned from my week's leave on shore. Mike greeted me from the tender. I said “Guess what Mike? I just heard. The Who's song Anyway Anyhow Anywhere has reached number twelve. Great eh?”
“No accounting for bad taste, you know.” We laughed. And as we walked into the lounge, I caught up with the gossip on board and told Mike of my exploits ashore. How we now had eight million listeners and Caroline House was a buzz and how some man from the government had tried to issue a writ to Radio Caroline and was told that there was no such thing, because we were run by four different companies registered in different parts of the world and none of them was called Radio Caroline. We laughed. Sat in the lounge and had a beer.
CHAPTER NINE: Wigan Pier Oil Well. It was one of those calm sea days in the summer of 1965. I was doing my morning show, having fun, playing lively music, music that moved, music to wake up to. I had come into the studio just before 6.00 a.m with an armful of LPs and a handful of fan mail, I had checked out the boxes of 45s that were around the mixing console to make sure that my favourite records were available to play. All seemed in order. “Knock-out!” That was the cliche of the day. My first number was Wooly Bully by Sam the Sham and The Pharaohs. And then with a “Honk! Honk!” on my horn and a greeting to the wonderful Radio Caroline morning, without a pause, on to the new release from the Animals, a song I was longing to play on the air, We Gotta Get Out Of This Place. Then from the Yardbird's Heart Full of Soul to my favourite Anyway Anyhow Anywhere by the Who. I was jumping, the ship was rolling and I hoped the listeners were enjoying the party.
Time to read some fan-mail on the air. I picked a letter that was covered with drawings of hearts and lipstick kisses. “Dear Tom, I love your show. I listen all the time. I love all you guys out there. Thanks for the music. It's great having Caroline. Would you please play a request for Wigan Pier? Love Vye.”
“Wigan Pier?” I said. “You have to be joking, Vye! How can there be a Wigan Pier? Wigan is inland and piers are on the ocean. But I'll play a song specially for you. Here are the Fortunes with You've Got Your Troubles.” And that was how the drama began. After that I got swamped with mail. “How could you be so rude to our Wigan Pier?” “Don't you know that Wigan Pier is famous?” And on and on. And then I got a letter that explained the story. George Formby was one of Britain's favourite singer/entertainers from the middle of the twentieth century. His father was also an entertainer and performed at the many seaside holiday piers around the coast. His father used to say “I've entertained at every pier in this country including Wigan Pier.” Wigan was his home but it had no seaside pier. It was inland and that was the joke. But Wigan Pier, and the memories, were in the hearts of the people of Lancashire. I had ridiculed something special. I had touched a nerve.
A few weeks later, after a shore leave, I was back on the air playing Help by the Beatles and, as the record was ending, I said “It's good to be back on Caroline. And guess what? I've been to Wigan. And I found the Pier. Yes the famous George Formby Wigan Pier. There's no seaside there, there's no place to sing, but I've found something else. I was standing on the dock of the old canal. It's hardly a pier but there I was standing and looking in the water and all I could see was dirty oily water. Yes dirty old oil! ‘Ha!’ I said. ‘There has to be oil here! You know, black gold!’ So I started digging. And sure enough, I discovered oil. So I formed the Wigan Pier Oil Well Company and you can be a share holder in this great oil discovery. By simply sending a self addressed stamped envelope, I'll send you a share by return.” There was a “Honk! Honk!” from my horn and then on came the Byrds with All I Really Want To Do. And on went the show. Now all I could do was wait and see what would happen.
Three days later I was swamped. Sack loads of mail came in. And out went the shares. Each share had some crazy picture of me and these words: “This is to cert and fly that the bare her is a share grabber in the my theatrical non existent Tom Lodge Wigan Pier Oil Well whose out of his bird Press and Dent can be heard Dawn Busting 6 to 9 am on Caroline 199 giving mourn ewes of this great fiasco.” And this “Great Fiasco” was a great success. The music kept coming from the people on shore and we kept playing the songs, sending them back to the millions of listeners we were accumulating. Many new record labels were forming, making it easier and easier for musicians to be recorded and then, through us, to be heard. Before we came on the air, there had only been four record companies. Now the door was wide open.
There was a lot of sunshine over that summer. Sometimes it was rough, sometimes calm. The Irish sea can be a challenge and a gift. We were becoming connected with these friendly, welcoming northern folk. I was enjoying the trips ashore, opening a boutique in Blackpool, doing gigs in Liverpool. Then there was the gig at the Centre 63 Club in Liverpool where Princess Margaret enjoyed the rock 'n' roll music as enthusiastically as any fan. It was fun being ashore and being available to our many listeners. I was on top and feeling good.
Then I got a call from Ronan. “Hey, Tommy baby, I need you down here. Pack your bags and come south.” He didn't tell me any more. He said he would tell me when I got to London. But I had to bring all my belongings with me. What an adventure. I had no idea what was happening, or what would happen next. I remember that, on the plane flying to London, the Who were on board. Keith Moon, the Who's drummer, went up and down the aisle drumming on everybody's seats. The whole journey to London was a Who party. But what I didn't know was I would never return to the Isle of Man.
CHAPTER TEN: Moving to Caroline South. “So what's happened?” I asked Ronan.
“Sit down and I'll tell you.”
I was in Ronan's office. It was a large room on the first floor above the street overlooking Chesterfield Gardens in Mayfair, London. One wall was wallpapered with a huge photograph of Radio Caroline North, making the ship the idol of our work. On the adjacent wall there were two large floor-to-ceiling windows which gave the room a feeling of royalty. And next to Ronan on his desk was a bust of John F. Kennedy.
I sat in the chair, tired from the journey, wondering what new story Ronan was going to present me with.
“Well it's like this” he began. “While you've been up north another broadcast ship has arrived from Texas, Radio London.”
“Yes, I know” I said. “They have those American jingles and are using the Drake format. Yes, powerful stuff.”
“That's right and there has been a radio survey. It shows that Radio London has ten listeners to Caroline South's one. Not good. So all the Caroline advertisers have switched to Radio London and Allan Crawford has gone bust. So I have bought Caroline South.”
“Wow! That's fantastic. I love it!” I said. “So here's where you come in. I want you to take over the programming and get our audience back from Radio London.”
“Good, I can do that” I said enthusiastically. “But I'll need two things: a whole new radio staff and free control of the music.”
“Why do you need new deejays?” Ronan asked.
“Because the ones that are there have a vested interest in the old programming and they will resist change. I need to start from scratch. I need young, youthful, guys who love the music scene, who have a positive outlook and are adventurers. I need to create a whole new and different kind of programming in order to beat the Drake format. I need to create a fun, high spirited ship.”
“Sounds like fun” said Ronan. “Okay, that's good. Start collecting your deejays. Talk to Frances, she'll give you a hand. Oh, and yes, Tommy, you have some fun too.”
“Thanks, I will.”
Over the next couple of weeks I interviewed many people. And slowly a team gathered. Eventually there was Keith Hampshire, Mike Ahern who came down from the North ship, there was a good spirited, good looking guy called Dave Lee Travis, the easy going Emperor Rosko, there was Robbie Dale, Rick Dane, Tommy Vance and Graham Webb. Some joined right away and some later. When all was ready, a few of us arrived at the Mi Amigo, Radio Caroline South and replaced the deejay crew.
“Here's the situation” I said at one of the early meetings. “We have to get the audience back from Radio London. That's it! That's our mission.”
“They have a great sound” said Dave. “Are we going to use the same format, the Drake format?”
“No, we will never beat them that way. Here's the deal. We're going to use a new formula. A formula that I know will bring the audience back from Radio London.”
“Great!” said Mike. “How are we gonna do that?”
“This has never been done before on any radio station. We're going to pioneer a new system. Here it is. First the DJ is not allowed to prepare his own show.”
“Yeah?” said Robbie. “Wow! How does this work then?”
“You get all the records and albums that you might want to play on your show and place them around you at the console. There'll be a box for the Top 40, a box for the new releases, a box for our favourites and a third box for golden oldies, old hits.”
“And then what?” asked Rosko.
“Now, here's the important part. You can only decide what to play when the one before is playing. Like, no preparation.”
“Wow!” said Mike. “That could be a bit dicey.”
“You've got to feel your show” I said, “not think about it. You've gotta be right in it. And then you'll always know what to play next.”
“Wow!” said Keith. “Great! I get it. Yeah! I like that!”
“Yeah” said Robbie. “It's kinda like being spontaneous.”
“Yes and here's the trick” I confirmed. “You have to really listen to your own show. None of this turning down the monitor and relaxing until the record ends. You have to be your show's own number one fan. This is about being one with the music. And above all having fun. And when you go ashore, do gigs, be involved with the music scene and bring those feelings back here and put this fun energy into your show.”
It was at this time that I re-created the Wigan Pier Oil Well Company, but for the south. The question was what to call it. On the air I asked “Where is there, around here, an oily place?” Many answers came in. I chose Wapping Swamp as the most likely place to discover oil. And so was launched The Wapping Swamp Oil Well Company. And again the subscribers outnumbered my expectations.
And always the new music continued to arrive. There was Keep On Running by the Spencer Davis Group which shot straight into the number two spot on the music charts. There was My Generation by the Who and, one of my favourite American groups, the Four Seasons, with Let's Hang On. Now we rocked! We had fun. There was nothing to stop our wild energy, not even being ship wrecked. By August of 1966 I was told that the polls showed we had 23 million listeners. And once again we were number one.

CHAPTER ELEVEN: Shipwrecked at Frinton-on-Sea. January 9 1966 was a cold stormy day with snow along the coast. That morning I had been playing Get Off Of My Cloud by the Rolling Stones and It's My Life by the Animals. But no amount of good lively music would warm up this extra cold winter. By the evening the storm had increased and our little ship was rolling around in the turbulent North Sea. One of the deejays was seasick so I took over his shift opening with Day Tripper by the Beatles and closing with Eve Of Destruction by Barry McGuire. Little did I know! I was now tired so, after dinner, I got up and began to head for the door.
“Where're you off to Tom?” asked Tony Blackburn.
“Going to bed” I said “I want to be fresh for my morning show.”
I was glad to settle into my bunk. Even though the ship was rolling, this never bothered me. I was fast asleep when Dave Lee Travis burst into the cabin. “Tom! Tom! Wake up!” he shouted. “What's up, Dave?” I yawned.
“We're in a storm” Dave replied. “The Captain wants everyone up in the lounge, packed and ready to leave the ship.”
“Yeah, sure” I said, not believing him. We were always playing jokes on each other. And Dave had a great sense of humour. And besides, this was nothing in comparison to the storm I had been in on Caroline North in the Irish Sea. I believed that Dave was definitely playing a joke on me.
Dave shrugged his shoulders and left. I turned over and went back to sleep. Next Graham Webb entered. “Tom, wake up ... Come on!”
“Hi Graham, what now?”
“Tom, it's serious. Get packed!”
I stretched slowly and said “Hell. Okay.” Graham rushed out the door.
I was ready to play the joke. I dressed in my shore clothes, packed my bag and scampered up the stairs. In the lounge were Tony Blackburn, Graham Webb, Norman St. John, Dave Lee Travis and radio engineers George Saunders and Patrick Starling. I said “Okay you guys. I'll meet you on shore in the pub. Last one in pays for everyone's drinks.” Everyone laughed.
Then suddenly the ship heaved and the main engine raced. A couple of the Dutch crew went running by shouting “Hode verdomme!” Now I was concerned. Without hesitation I rushed up to the bridge to see what was going on. There was Captain Vrury and the Chief Engineer. “What's happening?” I asked.
The captain turned to me and said “The storm has broken our anchor chain. The propellers are full of barnacles. They are unable to create enough thrust to move the ship. The wind is blowing us toward the shore.”
I looked out at the dark night and I could see that something was wrong. None of the shore lights looked familiar. We must be moving. I rushed down to the studio. My concern was that if we were broadcasting inside the three mile international limit, we would be breaking the law. I also felt that it was important that the audience know what was happening. I had someone announce that, because there was the chance that we could drift inside the three-mile limit, we were going off the air now, but that we would be back on the air as soon as all was well and we were back out to sea.
After that there was nothing I could do. The crew were doing whatever they could. I would just be in the way. I returned to the lounge and said to Dave “Hey, Dave, do you want to have a game of checkers?”
“Sure.”
And so we began an intense game. Last time we had played, Dave had beaten me and I did not want that to happen again. He was good. The game was moving neck and neck, we were each holding ground and it was touch and go as to who would win when, suddenly, without any warning, the board went flying across the lounge. We heard a loud noise as the ship hit the beach. I had no idea that we were that close to the shore. Everyone scrambled out on to the deck. I will never know who would have won that game. We were broadside to the beach, sitting miraculously between two concrete groynes. A few feet either way and our ship would have been dashed to pieces. Large waves were crashing over our ocean side, creating the danger that the power of the waves could force our ship over onto its side and possibly dump us all into the freezing cold ocean.
Out on the deck, I could see the snow on the land and a lot of moving lights. There were people running about and muffled voices shouting. Then, through a megaphone, loud and clear, I heard “Stand back! Stand back! ... We're going to fire a rope! Get off the deck.”
We all ducked back in the cabin and there was a loud bang as a rope came shooting onto the ship. This was grabbed by one of the crew and they set up a pulley system for a breeches-buoy, a system for hauling people off ships.
Our crew was instructing us how to get into the breeches. These were like a pair of shorts with a buoy around your waist. You held on the best you could and, in jerks, you were pulled across the waves to the land.
I had grabbed my bag and a large picture of Jeanine, my wife. I climbed into the breeches and, as I was hauled across the waves, I was bobbed up and down. With each ‘down’ I was dunked into the freezing ocean water, arriving on shore cold and wet. It was strange to feel the solid unmoving land. I was so used to the floor always moving that the firmness of the beach felt unsafe.
There were many hands helping me out of the breeches-buoy and a police constable handed me a large hot cup of tea. “This should warm you up” he said with a chuckle. Ah! This was England! Once all of us were off the ship, except the captain and some crew, we were stuffed into a vehicle and driven to a store where we were given dry clothes, courtesy of an association that helped shipwrecked sailors. From there we were taken to a hotel for supper and a welcome night's sleep.
Early in the morning I received a phone call from Ronan. “Come up to London right away. They want to interview you on ITN News.”
Everything was moving so quickly. There was a picture of me being hauled off the ship, carrying a four foot picture of Jeanine, on the front page of one of the newspapers and suddenly I was on the TV. The interviewer asked me to describe the experience.
“We were told to abandon ship” I said, as the camera rolled. “When ashore, we were fed, given tea. Poor ship, left, and maybe battered to pieces by now.”
“Is this the end of Caroline South?” he asked.
“Hell no!” I said.
Now we were the number one news story but we had no ship. But soon Ronan got a call from Britt Wadner, a Swedish lady, who had a radio ship that was not being used. So, while our ship was being repaired, we could broadcast from her ship, the Cheeta II. Yes, we were soon back on the air.
I loved the adventures, the risks and pitting ourselves against the elements and the British establishment. Yes, this was what my life was about. This was feeling alive. Even though I was a married man with a family, I had full support from them in this lifestyle. My French wife, Jeanine, was totally behind me. We had met in London while I was writing Beyond the Great Slave Lake in 1956. We had married a year later in Paris. The birth of my first son Tommy was while I was working for the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation in Yellowknife, North West Territories, Canada. My second son, Brodie, was born in Hampstead, London and my third son, Lionel, was born in the Highlands of Scotland. All this world traveling flowed naturally into going to sea on Radio Caroline. That first day in 1964, when I sailed out to the ship, my sons were one, three and four years old. We were living in Ealing, London, in a comfortable semi-detached house. It was a time when I would have loved to have had more time with my family but we were financially strapped. I was freelancing for the CBC but this hardly covered our expenses. So I subsidised my income by washing dishes at the Earl's Court Exhibition Centre. I also did a stint of singing on BBC TV for ‘peanuts’. So Radio Caroline was a godsend. Now at last we were covering our expenses. In fact, during those three years on Caroline, I had done well enough to buy a house in the Cotswolds, Gloucestershire, a place where my wife and my sons could be close to my mother and also near where I had lived as a boy. My brief times on shore were often taken up with concerts and guest appearances but Jeanine and the boys only gave me encouragement for this work. In fact it was Jeanine who started my fan club and kept it running to the end.
It was strange being on Cheeta II. The studio did not have the full familiar sound of the Mi Amigo. We were all impatient for the return of our ‘old friend’. When I left for my shore leave Rosko was on the air with his mynah bird, the two of them chattering and bantering. As I sailed to shore in the tender, I was listening to them on a small radio by the boat's wheel and the skipper and I were laughing at his fast flowing antics. There was a spirit about the Radio Caroline sound that was contagious. It felt good. It made you feel that life was a joy. Even though we were out on the high seas, even though we were living in confined spaces, we were having fun and this was flowing through our programmes. There were so many new experiences always happening that, as I docked in Harwich, I was wondering what was waiting for me around the next corner.
CHAPTER TWELVE: Ronan's Story of Caroline's Birth.After the shipwreck, and while all the ship repairs were being accomplished, I spent more time at Caroline House, and with Ronan. One day, while I was hanging out in and enjoying Ronan's company, we were chatting about this and that. I asked “Ronan. Tell me how you started Radio Caroline.”
“That's a good story” he said. “Well it was all because of Georgie Fame.”
“Georgie Fame?” I said with interest.
“Yeah, I was running the Scene Club. I use to have the Rolling Stones appearing there before they were known. That was how they got started. At that time I found this young organ player, great blues music. ‘OK Georgie’ I said to him. ‘We'll try and get you a record contract.’ So we recorded the song Yeh Yeh but all the record companies said his music was too ‘black’. So I made the record myself but the BBC also said it was too black and they wouldn't play it. They wouldn't even touch it.”
“Everybody sure missed out” I said. “I mean, January of last year (1965) it was number one.”
“Listen Tommy baby. It's always like that. The ones who are in control never know what's best.”
“So then what?” I asked.
“All that was left was Radio Luxembourg.”
“Old crackley Radio Luxembourg?” I said incredulously. “But they only play the first minute of each record. Hardly a way to programme a radio station.”
“Sure, but that's all there was left. I had a package with a copy of Yeh Yeh under my arm. I must have looked like a courier or maybe it was the Irish accent, who knows. I walked into the front office and said to the receptionist ‘Which way to Sir Geoffrey Everitt's office?’ Just like that. I was moving quickly. She pointed to the door and, before she could say another word, I went straight in. Quick and friendly.”
“She didn't try to stop you?” I asked.
“Oh, she might have but I was too quick. You have to remember that this was my last chance. All the other doors had closed.”
“I love it!” I said.
“Now there I was in the top man's office. There were three desks. A large one with Sir Geoffrey sitting and a small desk on each side with two smaller men sitting. It was all so funny looking. There was a couch in front of the desks. I plunked myself down there. They all looked most surprised. ‘Yes?’ one of them said. ‘What can we do for you?’
I held out my package and said ‘I have a record for you to play on your radio station.’
All three burst out laughing. Sir Geoffrey got up, went to a curtain on the wall, pulled a cord and revealed a board headed ‘Radio Luxembourg's Programming’. Starting at 6.00 p.m. it showed the record companies' bookings all the way to closing at 1.00 a.m. ‘See’ he said. ‘We have no room.’
‘Well then’ I said ‘I'll have to start my own radio station, won't I?’
‘How will you do that?’ one of then asked.
‘You have a station in Luxembourg. I could put one in France.’ You should have seen their faces. And with that I got up and left. That was the seed, Tommy. That started me thinking and searching how to start a radio station.”
“What made you call us Radio Caroline?” I asked. “I mean, it is such a great name. How did you get the idea?”
“Another funny story. I was flying to Dallas Texas to buy the transmitter and I was reading this magazine, Time or Life or something. There was this picture of John F. Kennedy chasing his daughter around the Oval Office and the caption read ‘Caroline holds up government.’
‘That's it!’ I said. ‘Caroline! Yes. That's it!’”
Ronan paused for a moment, as he went into memories. There was a twinkle in his eyes. He started to laugh. “Oh yes” he said in the laughter. “And that's another funny story. When I got back to London, we had a board meeting. It was a little bit stuffy. They had been coming up with all kinds of different names for the radio station. Like Radio Mars or Radio Ray, some futuristic sounding name. X was also popular at that time. Have an X in the name. So I announced ‘We're calling our new radio station Radio Caroline.’ All their jaws dropped. They were appalled. But they were too polite to say anything.
Then one of the men came over to me and said, in a very fatherly and private way, ‘Ronan. If you call it Caroline, they'll think you're queer.’
‘Maybe I am’ I said.”
We both laughed and I said “Well they sure had you wrong. But thanks to your persistence, Ronan, it's turned out to be a perfect name.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN: Meeting the Beatles.Friday March 25th 1966 we were broadcasting from the Cheeta II, while M.V Mi Amigo was being repaired and outfitted with a new more powerful transmitter. I received a message to call Ronan on the ship's radio. “What's going on?” I asked him.
“Come ashore as fast as possible!” he said.
“Is something wrong?”
“No, it's an important assignment” Ronan stressed.
“An important assignment?”
“A special secret meeting” Ronan said. “I can't explain it now. Come right away. Bring a microphone and tape recorder. The tender is on its way to get you. Someone will pick you up on shore. Don't ask any more questions. Just come.”
“OK Ronan. 'Bye.”
Docking in Harwich, there was a black limousine and chauffeur waiting. “Hi Tom” the chauffeur said.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“It's top secret” he smiled as we raced off down the highway. I could see we were heading in the direction of London so I decided to relax and enjoy the comfort and the soft leather of the vehicle.
My driver started to chat. “You guys are really doing a fantastic job out there.”
“Yeah! We're having a ball! You know I can't believe how this country is so total in their support for us“ I said.
“Well, you know Tom” he said, “millions and millions of people can't be wrong. My admiration goes out to you guys. This is one of the best things that has happened to this bloody country in a long time.”
“Yes, thanks. We are really lucky, you know. The British people are very special. Without their support, we'd have been off the air a year ago.”
In London we headed for Chelsea. I watched the street names, still wondering where we were going. In Chelsea we drove down the Kings Road and turned into a mews. I just caught the name. The Vale. “This is it” said the driver. “Through that door.” There was a plain black door in a brick wall. I entered a large white studio and was met by Tony Barrow, Brian Epstein's publicist. “So what's this all about?” I asked him. “Who am I interviewing?”
“That's top secret” Tony smiled. “Set up your interview material here.”
An attractive woman entered and Tony introduced me to Nancy, a CBC reporter. We chatted about Radio Caroline and the CBC while I set up my equipment for the interview. Suddenly we were interrupted by laughter and voices. I turned as the door opened and in walked four guys in black suits. For a split second I thought they were some visitors passing through the room. Then it hit me. They were the Beatles. “Wow!” I said. “Hi guys! What a knock out! Fancy meeting you here! I thought I was going to interview the Queen but I guess you'll do.” They laughed and we all shook hands.
While I sat on a stool with two on each side, I turned on the tape recorder. They were crazy, unpredictable and fun.
“It's nice to be here in the actual captain's kitchen” said John, “and the captain himself is stirring up a right old brew.”
They were being zany so I fell into their crazy mood. “Is it true, Paul and John, that you have ghost writers to write your songs for you?”
“Oh yeah” said Paul, “ghost writers.”
John added “We got ghost Willen Trotsky. They write the first four.”
And Paul carried on “And Lenin and Blavatsky. They write the lyrics. The two best selling lyric writers in the country.”
“We just do the PR for the boys, you know” said John.
“Yeah” said Paul. “We just do the appearance in our mop-tops, you know.”
I loved this nutty side of the Beatles. I responded “Yeah. It's a hard life, isn't it?”
“Yeah” said John. “It's very hard but we just wander around. We've got doubles for most of that as well.”
Wanting to bring Ringo into the jibing, I said “What's it like being a father, Ringo?”
“It's great” he said.
“When are you going to be a father?” I asked George.
“I don't know.”
“You don't know?” I insisted.
“I don't know.” Everyone laughed. And then, looking me straight in the eye, George said with great sincerity “Who do you fancy for the National?” Again we laughed.
Maybe it was time to bring the interview back on track so I turned to John and asked “When are you going to write another book, John?”
But there was no way they were going to let this interview be serious. “Oh well” John replied, “people have come up to me and said ‘When are you going to write another book John?’ and I have said ‘I don't know.’”
George suddenly piped in “Give the pop stars a fairer share of the country's wealth!”
Maybe I could get some of their thoughts about the Caroline battle with the government. So I asked “What is your attitude towards commercial radio on land?”
John was quick to reply. “I don't mind where it comes from, you know, as long as it's there.”
“Yes, I think I'd go along with that” added Paul. “I think you might as well have it in the middle...”
George interrupted “Get the local angle, you know.”
“Yeah, get the local angle” Paul agreed.
I really wanted them to speak about the whole commercial radio debate that was buzzing the country. So I asked “You'd like to see local commercial stations?”
And John came back with “I wouldn't like to see them. I'd just like to hear them.”
I turned to Ringo. “Yeah, I would. The more stations the merrier I always say. You've heard me say that before.” Everyone laughed.
“Paul?” I asked.
“I think if the BBC can be legal on land, then so can everybody else. That's how it should be. They either have nobody doing it or they have everybody doing it.” Again we all laughed.
The bantering went on for a while. A photographer came by and took some pictures of us and then Tony came back and said it was time to go.
I learned latter that this had been the famous ‘butcher’ pictures photographic session, photographs for the soon to be released American album The Beatles Yesterday and Today. Bob Whitaker had taken the shots of torn dolls and bloody meat. But this was too much for Capitol Records, U.S.A., and the cover was replaced with some bland pictures of the four.
Soon our old friend, M.V. Mi Amigo, sailed back and anchored. Wam bam thank you mam! We were back with the full force of rock 'n' roll. But, if I had listened to my dreams, I would have known that soon I would be shot at with machine guns.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: The Battle for the Rough Tower.I Can't Get No) Satisfaction by the Rolling Stones was up full blast. I was jumping and dancing to it. The seagulls were keeping a safe distance. We were fully installed on the re-furbished, more powerful, newly polished M.V. Mi Amigo. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a boat. I called to Mike who was down the other end of the ship. “Hey! A boat's coming.”
“Where?” he shouted.
“Look there” I replied.
“It must be some fishing boat.”
“It's the tender” I said as I recognized it.
“I guess they're bringing food supplies and mail.”
“That's strange” I said. “We just had a supply boat. Another boat is not due for two days.” I was wondering if something was wrong. The supply boats were pretty regular. As the small boat neared, I could see two men in the boat, the skipper at the wheel and a second man. I kept looking and then I recognized him. It was Ronan. He waved and called but his words were lost in the wind. “What the hell? Ronan's on board!” I said to Mike.
“Let's tell Dave” he said, as he dived through the door to the studio. Coming up from the sleeping berths came Rosko, rubbing his eyes.
“What's goin' on?” Rosko mumbled.
Pointing to the boat, I said “the tender's coming and Ronan's on board.”
The tender approached. Ronan was still calling to us. Now I could understand. “Tom! We've been invaded” I heard. “Our tower's been invaded!”
“What tower?” I shouted back.
Now he was waving frantically. “Quick, jump on board” he shouted. “I'll tell you.”
As the tender moved alongside the Mi Amigo, I sprang from Caroline to the tender and landed on the deck with a thud. The smaller boat quickly moved away.
“What's this about an invasion? And what tower?” I said, as soon as I got my footing.
“The Rough Tower, baby. It became ours because I put a man on it. That was last week.”
“So what happened?” I asked.
“Yesterday, Roy Bates, owner of Radio Essex invaded our tower and forced our man ashore” Ronan explained.
“That's piracy!” I said. “But what do we need a tower for? Are we going to broadcast from it?”
“Hell no. I'm going to make it into a nation” Ronan said with a sparkle.
“A nation?” I was amazed. “What the hell for?”
Ronan laughed then, smiling, put his hand on my shoulder. “It's legally possible” he said. “All it needs is a name and a constitution and so on.”
Suddenly I understood. “Hey yes. If you can create a nation, then anyone can create a nation.”
“That's right, Tommy baby! The whole concept of nationalism becomes absurd. If people can see that, then one of the causes of war will be eliminated. Great music and art comes from politically unrestricted areas, like out here, in international waters.”
My admiration for Ronan was deepening all the time. A seagull swooped down for some scraps on the ocean surface. We were heading out to sea in the direction of a mark on the horizon that was getting larger and larger. Slowly I could make it out. There were two towers, each twenty feet in diameter and sixty feet high. A steel platform was across the top of the towers that carried two old rusty anti-aircraft guns. In the middle of this platform stood a large two-storey structure with windows. On its flat roof was a machine-gun platform. The towers were stained with years of sea and wind. A ladder hung down the side of one of the towers. This was a formidable looking fort. It had been built by the British, for defence, during the Second World War but had been abandoned many years ago and was therefore, according to the laws of the sea, because it was in international waters, available to anyone.
The skipper throttled down as we headed for the ladder and then suddenly all hell broke out around us. It was like the water was boiling. We all ducked down. We were being fired at with a machine gun. The skipper lost hold of the steering wheel and the boat spun around. The force of the turn sent us hard into the bulkhead. Ronan shouted “Oh Holy Mary, Mother of God! Let's get the hell out of here!”
The skipper grabbed the wheel. The boat surged away. I got up and looked back. A small figure was shaking his fist and shouting. And then he started throwing gasoline bombs at us. These hit the water bursting into flames. One landed on board. Ronan grabbed the fire extinguisher and in a cloud of caustic smoke, smothered the fire. I watched the tower as we sped away.
“Now that's what you would call a close call” said Ronan.
“That guy nearly killed us!” I said.
“That's for sure. That man is pretty desperate to hold onto that tower.”
“So how are we going to get the tower back?” I asked.
“Let him have it. We've got a fine ship.”
Later I learned that Roy Bates created a nation out of that tower and called it Sealand. The last I heard, he is still out there today.
I climbed back on board, a little bruised, wondering what other challenges were in store for us and if we would survive all the forces that were against us.
The news report about our adventure was slanted to emphasize that we were unsavoury. On the ITV News the announcer said “Men from Radio Caroline try to land on Rough Tower, a lonely fort seven miles off Harwich, but the tower was already occupied and they were driven off by petrol bombs and shots fired from the tower.” They showed shots of the tower and the damage that our tender had suffered.
Then there were scenes of the army preparing to explode Sunk Head, another World War II fort. Oxyacetylene cutting equipment was being dropped by helicopter and the news man reported “Army prepares to explode Sunk Head Fort so as to stop it being used for an offshore radio station.”
But to really tarnish our image they also reported, in almost the same breath, “Today owner of Radio City, pirate station, Reg Calvert was found shot dead. Major Oliver Smedley was accused of the murder. James McKnight and other men have invaded Radio City and have refused to leave.” And there was clips from the Postmaster General, Anthony Wedgewood Benn's statement on television “The pirates are a menace and I don't believe at all that the public wouldn't support action to enforce the law. The pirate radio ships have no future at all. I'm quite convinced of that!”
We were all in the ship's lounge, gathered around the TV, having supper. “I can't believe this!” said Mike. “Now we will be associated with murder and all we do is play records and have fun.”
“Yes” I said, “The government will try any trick to get rid of us. First they'll try and smear our good name and then, once they have made us look bad enough, they can get away with attacking us in any way they wish.”
“Do you think they'll do that?” asked Dave.
“I don't know but you can see that our battle with the government is heating up.” Little did I know how true those words were. Yes, the battle with the government was heating up. Soon there would be an attack and then our counter attack with the British Royal Navy. At the same time there were plans by MI5 (the British equivalent of the CIA) to eliminate us completely. And yet, while all this was happening, it appeared that nothing could stop us. Because our popularity would soon move into overdrive. Our audience would soar to 23 million. We would all become superstars, being swamped by screaming fans when we appeared in public. And yet still there was the darker side. Because, under the surface, everything would not always run smoothly. We would have our own internal battles. Soon there would be a mutiny on board the good ship M.V. Amigo, something unheard of among ‘good’ sailors. Ronan would take on a new investor who, much to my own personal objections, would force us to play his records. Records which I believed were ‘crap’. Yes, soon the battle front would not only be with the government but would be inside our own camp. And yet, all the time, there was nothing that could stop Ronan's creative imagination from dreaming up new adventures and new ways to entertain the British people. Soon Ronan would initiate Caroline Television, a system of broadcasting from two airplanes. Yes, now we believed we were unbeatable. There was no limit, or so it appeared. Were we heading for the stratosphere or to the ultimate crash in the North Sea? I had no idea. That night, when I went to bed, I had no inkling of the challenges and adventures that were waiting for me....

To read the rest of the chapters and know the full story, you can buy the book.
Further chapters:
15) Mutiny On Caroline.
16) 23 Million People Can't be Wrong.
17) Attacking The British Navy.
18) MI5 Plan to Attack Radio Caroline.
19) Leaving Caroline Under Duress.
20) The Ships, The Politicians and The Traitors.
21) The Rise and Fall of Caroline Television.
22) Epilogue

Pirate Radio


Although UK pop was flourishing in the wake of the Beatles and the The Rolling Stones, the means of greatest access—radio—was sorely constrained. The problem of limited air-time was made particularly apparent to record plugger Ronan O'Rahilly as he tried in vain to secure plays for a single by his client Georgie Fame. Inspired by Radio Veronica, anchored off the Dutch coast since 1960, O'Rahilly secured the financial backing to purchase and refit the Frederica, a 1930 Danish passenger ferry. Renamed the Caroline after the daughter of US President John F. Kennedy, the ship sailed from Greenore in the Irish Republic and was anchored off Felixstowe, Suffolk on 27 March 1964. Following a brief test transmission around midnight that evening, Radio Caroline began regular broadcasts at noon the next day, opening with the Beatles’ "Can't Buy Me Love." The reaction was quick and positive. The BBC was taken completely by surprise and their bland formula of popular music was immediately ignored as millions turned over to ‘Caroline on 199 your all-day music station’. Within months several other stations had appeared, broadcasting sometimes contrasting music in often uncomfortable, even farcical, circumstances.
In July 1964 Radio Caroline acquired an early rival—Radio Atlanta. The original ship was relocated off the Isle Of Man while the Atlanta vessel, the Mi Amigo, now christened Caroline South, was sited off Frinton, Essex. Its main competitor was established the following December when a former minesweeper, the Galaxy, anchored off Walton-on-the-Naze, Essex, began broadcasts as Radio London. Recalled by many as the genre's exemplary station, its imaginative playlist, powerful transmitter and memorable jingles combined to create a unique character. Its staff included John Peel, Kenny Everett, Tommy Vance and Tony Blackburn, a contrast which ensured the station's balance. The Carolines also boasted their share of future celebrities. Blackburn and Vance spent time on the Mi Amigo, alongside Simon Dee, Emperor Roscoe, Mike Ahearn and Dave Lee Travis. Life on board any of the vessels was usually gruelling, yet despite cramped conditions, storms and seasickness, a spirit of adventure and camaraderie bonded the disc jockey and audience.
The pirates constructed their own charts, loosely based on those of the music press, but punctuated with singles peculiar to individual ships. It resulted in a curious double standard; record companies could not court them officially, yet the pirates were crucial in pushing material, particularly original American versions, which might not otherwise have been hits. "You've Lost That Lovin' Feelin'" (the Righteous Brothers) and "Elusive Butterfly" ( Bob Lind) were two prime examples of the pirates’ influence and the stations were also less apprehensive of controversial material, including death discs and protest songs. However, loyalty to a particular release was not simply borne out of altruism, and the Caroline organization later admitted that records could be bought into their chart. When Phil Solomon took over the programming of the station he mercilessly plugged the recordings of his own acts on the Major Minor label, such as the Dubliners and David McWilliams. Radio London's publishing house, Pall Mall Limited, owned the rights to a succession of b-sides, fuelling rumours that this would guarantee airtime to the partnership. Despite the pervasive influence of the two major stations, many others were peppered around Britain's coastline. Radio Scotland, initially anchored off Dunbar in East Lothian, inspired a fierce loyalty, maintaining onshore links through its Clan Balls, which featured national and local groups. Its nominal counterpart, Radio England, provided the UK with its most overtly American system, based on a fast-moving, non-stop format. Johnny Walker, later of Caroline, began his career there.
Nearby was Radio 355, also known as Britain Radio while further north, off Scarborough, lay Britain 270. Ships, however, were not the only source and several stations were sited on the disused army and navy watch-towers embedded in the Thames Estuary. Radio Essex, later BBMS (Britain's Better Music Station) was based on Fort Knock John; Radio 390, recalled with affection for Mike Raven's R&B Show, broadcast from the sprawling Red Sands’ edifice; while between the two, on Shivering Sands, lay Radio City. The station had begun life in May 1964 when the platform was seized by singer Screaming Lord Sutch who proclaimed it Radio Sutch. The novelty quickly palled; records and valves were in short supply and provisions appeared in exchange for free advertising, and by September control had passed to pop group manager Reg Calvert, who renamed it Radio City. Although the new owner initially announced that the venture was a success, he made an aborted attempt to sell the station to Caroline at the end of 1965. Six months later Calvert approached Radio London, but problems arose over ownership of City's transmitter. Major Oliver Smedley claimed it was his, then raided the complex, leaving behind him a posse of riggers who, it is said, were about to retrieve his property. On 21 June 1966, Calvert arrived at Smedley's home following a heated meeting earlier in the day. A scuffle broke out during which the Major fired a shotgun, killing Calvert instantly. Although his widow, Dorothy, tried to keep the station on air, it closed prematurely in February 1967 when the Rochford, Essex magistrate ruled that Shivering Sands lay within British territorial waters and was thus under the scope of the Wireless Telegraphy Act. The scandal, coupled with the tragic drowning of an engineer, a disc jockey and the co-proprietor of the short-lived Radio Invicta, fuelled the ire of an already seething establishment. Time was already running out; a 1965 Council of Europe declared all offshore broadcasting illegal and one by one the member states introduced laws forbidding their ports to be used as a base.
On 15 August 1967, the Marine Offences Act came into effect resulting, overnight, in the closure of every station, barring the irrepressible Radio Caroline. As midnight passed, renegade disc jockeys Johnnie Walker and Robbie Dale kept the flag flying. Excluded from British patronage, the owners looked to the Continent, but support from this source grew equally problematical. Caroline nonetheless remained a cause célèbre for many years, broadcasting for several months before disappearing again, only to resume transmission when all hope seemed lost. Its legacy was also maintained onshore with the proliferation of minority or community-based stations which sprang up during the '80s. These pirates viewed Radio 1 and its commercial counterparts as restrictive as O'Rahilly had viewed the old BBC Light Programme. Caroline's tempestuous story ended in 1989 in the wake of new British laws. In the most punitive action to date, the ship was holed below the waterline during a combined raid by British and Dutch authorities and all equipment put ‘out of action’. With this act the legacy of Britain's offshore pirate radio would appear to be over. Their influence on the UK popular music was colossal: they alone defined how pop radio should be delivered, and much of their legacy still exists in modern radio presentation.

thank you - great stuff

Thanks Voja for posted the whole story !(I didn't dare,being afraid it willl be too long for an OT )

I just heard this will inspired a movie :
[www.independent.co.uk]
Caroline's Greatest Hits: Download the memories

The Beach Boys Wouldn't It Be Nice

The Beatles Strawberry Fields Forever

The Rolling Stones (I Can't Get No) Satisfaction

Otis Redding My Girl

The Jimi Hendrix Experience Purple Haze

Marvin Gaye and Kim Weston It Takes Two

Tom Jones It's Not Unusual

Cliff Richard The Minute You're Gone

Herman's Hermits I'm Into Something Good

The Byrds Mr Tambourine Man

The Supremes You Can't Hurry Love

Donovan Mellow Yellow

The Yardbirds Shapes of Things

The Who My Generation

Sandie Shaw (There's) Always Something There to Remind Me

The Small Faces All or Nothing

Cream I Feel Free

The Four Tops I Can't Help Myself (Sugar Pie Honey Bunch)

The Seekers I'll Never Find Another You

The Righteous Brothers Unchained Melody

Bob Dylan Like a Rolling Stone

The Kinks You Really Got Me

The Troggs With a Girl Like You

The Monkees I'm a Believer



I am a Frenchie ,as Mick affectionately called them in the Old Grey Whistle Test in 1977 .

RADIO CAROLINE was created by Ronan O'Rahilly and outfitted on a 702 ton ferry, the M.V. Frederica...... and renamed the M.V. Caroline. She began regular broadcasting on Easter Sunday 1964 from an anchorage off the southeast coastline of England

Another radio ship, the Mi Amigo joined her shortly thereafter. It was taken over in July and the radio station was renamed Radio Caroline South. The M.V. CAROLINE sailed to The Irish Sea and anchored 3.5 miles off the coast of Ramsey, Isle Of Man and became RADIO CAROLINE NORTH.

By no means is this a complete history of Radio Caroline North the grand lady of broadcasting. It is only a capsule of events affecting the life of The M.V. Caroline from its christening in 1964 to the day in 1968 when it was "hijacked" and towed into harbor in Holland. And like all of this site it is "a work in progress" and is subject to additions, deletions and corrections from time to time. More detailed histories are available from sources listed in the bibliography at the bottom of this page.
1964
JANUARY 30 The Mi Amigo arrives in Las Palmas, Spain after nearly sinking en route from Galveston, Texas.
FEBRUARY 6 Postmaster-General, Ernest Bevins, is questioned in the House of Commons concerning rumors about Radio Caroline. He states that broadcasting commercial radio programs from a ship will break international rules and international agreements on sharing of radio frequencies. Hesays that it would cause serious interference to radio communications in Britain and other countries, and hints that legislation might be introduced to deal with it.
13 The M.V. Fredericia, a former Danish 702 ton passenger ferry leaves Rotterdam, Netherlands for Greenore, Erie. Her hull is specially strengthened to resist ice. She is rented by Planet Productions from the Swiss firm of Alranne. Plans by young Ronan O'Rahilly are to convert it to a radio ship called RADIO CAROLINE.
15
The Mi Amigo sails for Greenore, Eire (calling en route at Corunna), to have a new radio mast fitted. Ronan O'Rahilly and Allan Crawford owner of the Mi Amigo are running neck and neck to be the first to complete conversion of their ship and be the first Commercial Radio Ship in Britian. Crawford has been planning longer, but O'Rahilly's father, a wealthy industrialist also owns his own port in Greenore. Both groups use the facilities there to equip their ships. Some midnight shenanigans coupled with the Mi Amigo being forced out to anchor in the harbor mouth to make way for O'Rahilly senior's freighters created hard feelings.. Rough seas almost scupper the Mi Amigo, saved only by prompt action by her skipper.
MARCH 27
Good Friday 6 p.m. With strong winds tossing her about the M.V. Caroline drops anchor five miles off Harwich in international waters. At 9 p.m. that night Radio Caroline put out her first test signal on 201 meters (1495 kHz).
28 Easter Saturday. 12 noon: The 197 meters on the medium wave (1520 kHz) comes alive with "This is Radio Caroline" and Chris Moore introduces, as the first record, the Beatles recording of "Can't Buy Me Love". Britain's first commercial radio station is on the air.
29 Easter Sunday. Simon Dee starts the regular transmissions with: 'Hello everybody. This is Radio Caroline broadcasting on 199, your all day music station.' He announces that Caroline will be broadcasting modern light music, meaning'pop', every day from 6 a.m. to 6 p.m. on I99 metres in the medium wave band. For the time being there will be no evening broadcast because of difficult reception, due to increased competition from continental stations after dark. As yet there is little advertising, though O'Rahilly claims that advertisers are 'interested', and are just waiting to see what kind of audience the station secures before committing themselves.
APRIL 3 The General Post Office officially requests the International Telecommunications Union (the body which controls all broadcasting throughout the world by regulating frequencies and powers of transmission) to help in stopping the pirate broadcasters. The ITU reminds Panama of a provision in international radio regulations that the use of broadcasting stations on board ships outside territorial waters was prohibited.
7
Postmaster General, Mr. Reginald Bevins informs the House of Commons that Panama has withdrawn registration from the vessel Caroline, and that he is considering the possibility of legislation to deal with such broadcasting. He says a number of actions are being contemplated and "jamming" has been considered. Mr. Bevins told the House that leading advertising associations have given an assurance that major advertisers would boycott the station; the gramophone record industry was co-operating.

The GPO cuts off the ship-to-shore radio link, and announces that messages from the Caroline will be handled only in an emergency. Only the supply tender remains for communication with the land, as obviously arrangements about programmes commercials and so on could not be made over the air. When the tender leaves Harwich for international waters H.M. Customs and Excise rule that it is leaving the country and, therefore, those on board have to carry passports, stores are inspected, and the shipping agents have to go through H.M. Waterguard, H.M. Immigrations and the Special Branch of the CID for each trip. The tenders, supplied by a Dutch salvage and ship delivery firm, travelled to Caroline about three or four times a week with food, fuel, water, relief crew, disc jockeys and, of course, records.
8 Two apprentice hairdressers at Wrotham, Wendy Bryce aged 17 and Pat Cunningham aged 19, picket a BBC transmitter at Wrotham in Kent. Both are members of a Radio Caroline Defence League and they carry a placard saying "Hands off Caroline".
9 The Post Office warns that Caroline listeners are technically liable to prosecution under the Wireless Telegraphy Act of 1949. A spokesman admits that it would be difficult to enforce the regulations since no action can be taken against anyone who had tuned in accidentally. A spokesman for the Post Office tells the Daily Mail "They are beyond territorial waters. To stop them we will have to send a torpedo" and added "But that's a bit drastic, isn't it?".
20 Gallup Poll shows that Radio Caroline hasgained nearly seven million listeners in just three weeks of broadcasting. This doesn't include listeners under the age of seventeen, and the total was from a potential audience of only twenty million people.
21 12.30am: RADIO ATLANTA is off Lands End sailing for her anchorage when it's radio mast breaks. The 141 foot swaying aerial affects the steering and the Mi Amigo has to enter Falmouth for repairs, she arrives at 3pm.
27 Repairs are completed and the Mi Amigo sets sail and, drops anchor in her transmitting position. . The two shipsare 14 miles apart and both are broadcasting to the huge population of the Greater London area.
MAY Her Majesty's vessel Venturous flying the Blue Ensign, draws close to Caroline on the port side. Permission is asked to board to see bonded stores. Caroline crews states that this is against the law appertaining to international waters and one man only will be allowed access in a lifeboat. This offer is not accepted and at 12.33 p.m. the Venturous pulls away.

Customs and Excise Officials confirm that their vessel had gone alongside Caroline. They clain the skipper had shouted to the crew through the loud hailer and made routine enquiries about their duty free stores. It denies that anyone made any attempt to board Caroline.
1 Radio Caroline broadcasts its first commercial. It is for the Duke of Bedford's Woburn Abbey. The Duke reports later that instead of 4,000 people some 4,500 turned up the day following the commercial in spite of very wet weather.
12 Radio Atlanta begins regular broadcasting. Australian DJ Col Nicol introduces the first program. Ronan O'Rahilly, with a typical gesture, sends Allan Crawford a "Good Luck" telegram.

In a written Commons reply Mr Bevins claims that transmissions from Radio Caroline had caused interference to British and Belgian maritime services during the first few days of broadcasting, though interference since has been 'negligible'. Mr Bevins says the phonographic industry had been in close touch with the GPO on the subject, and he also had representations from the Songwriters' Guild of Great Britain, which was anxious that the development of pirate broadcasting stations be stopped as soon as possible. Mr Bevins meets the Conservative Party's Radio and TV Committee. At this meeting he speaks of his plans for pirate radio and local sound broadcasting in Britain. News leaks to the effect that he has put off any action against the pirates.
13 National newspapers carry headlines like: 'Pirate radio ship No. 2-onthe air - Bevins beaten.'
JUNE Mr Bevins commits the Tories to reviewing the whole question of commercial broadcasting, should they be returned to power in the October election. The Labour Party ardently denounces, in the words of one of its M.P.s, the 'greedy money-grabbing lobby agitating for commercial radio'. The Tories, inevitably, become associated with the commercial radio lobby, and the Labour Party with the kill-joys interested in preserving the sanctity of the BBC monopoly.

Barrister Jeremy Thorpe, the Liberal Member of Parliament for North Devon, introduces a Bill supported by a small group of M.P.s of all parties. It would force all radio stations which broadcast advertisements to be registered with the Government. He tells Postmaster General, Mr. Reginald Bevins, that he was condoning a series of criminal breaches by not withdrawing the licences of people who listened to Offshore Radio. He points out that with the withdrawing of Panamanian shipping registration the ship had no protection from any warship in the world, was liable to seizure. The Bill had its first reading without opposition but it did not have Government backing an essential if it was to get through to the statute book.
JULY 2 Radio Caroline and Radio Atlanta merge under the Caroline logo. It is agreed that MV Caroline, the larger, heavier and stronger vessel, should go North to a position off the coast of the Isle of Man in the Irish Sea.
3 Caroline sails north. Keeping outside territorial waters, she continues to broadcast all the way around the tip of England to her new position three and a half miles off Ramsey, Isle of Man.
6 8 a.m: Caroline, under Capt. Hangerfelt, is off Anglesea and playing requests for listeners in the area. The ship then moves off Dublin to play further requests for Irish listeners. Later they head for the Isle of Man. Late in the afternoon of Tynwald Day the ship takes up her position off Ramsey and Radio Caroline North is born. DJs Jerry Leighton, Tom Lodge and Alan Turner were making friends with a whole new area of fans.
OCTOBER
Mr Anthony Wedgwood Benn becomes Postmaster-General.
DECEMBER Radio Caroline asks the BBC for a recording of the Queen's Christmas Day message. It's refused on the grounds that the ship is not an authorised broadcasting station. Ronan O'Rahilly seeks a description of the word "authorised" and a list of the stations which had received copies but he doesn't push the point.
1965
JANUARY 13
&
14
Severe gales wrench off the starboard anchor from CAROLINE and she begins to drift. Within days a new 1 1/2 ton anchor is fitted and 4 1/2 tons of cable. The Isle of Man tourist board is given free advertising and the ship becomes a local attraction.

22
Britain, Belgium, Denmark, France, Greece, Luxembourg and Sweden sign a Council of Europe Agreement to ban pirate radio broadcasts 'on board ships, aircraft or any other floating or airborne objects'. The agreement bans not only the broadcasts themselves but also bans anyone from providing the stations with supplies, equipment or broadcasting material.

FEBRUARY The success of CAROLINE,and others prompts The National Broadcasting Development Committee headed by Sir Harmar Nicholls MP, (and including Lords Mancroft, and Grantchester and the historian A.J.P. Taylor on its committee) to press for Government action to start commercial radio. RADIO CAROLINE: present advertisement revenue runs at £15,000 weekly according to a spokesman.
MARCH The Postmaster General repeats in Parliament his allegations against the Offshore Radio stations and Sir Knox Cunningham, the Conservative Member for South Antrim, asks for evidence. Mr. Ian Gilmour, Conservative Member for Central Norfolk, amid Tory cheers, says "The continued success of Radio Caroline has provided abundant evidence of public demand for radio services independent of the B.B.C." He contends that any delay in granting licences for such a station would be both retrograde and dogmatic. Another East Anglian Member of Parliament, Mr. Eldon Griffiths, Conservative, Bury St. Edmunds, tells a Conference of the Radio and T.V. Retailers Association at Brighton,"The pirate stations are providing a service the B.B.C. has lamentably failed to provide. Millions of people, the large majority under 30, now listen regularly to these stations. Let us not have outright banning of a service which gives pleasure". Mr. Griffiths suggests the B.B.C. should "stop crying about pirate radio and start competing for audiences.
APRIL 18 Easter Sunday: Radio Caroline celebrates first birthday. Ronan O'Rahilly introduced four "Bell" the Caroline insignia awards. He presents one personally to The Animals at London Airport just before they leave for New York. The award is for their "House of the Rising Sun" the best group record of the Year. Pet Clark flew in from France to receive her award for ''Down Town", the best female vocal recording, from Simon Dee. Simon also travels to Twickenham Film Studios to present the Beatles with their award as the best and most consistent artists. The best male vocal record of the year was "It's Not Unusual" and the award is presented by Burt Bacharach to Tom Jones. Recorded birthday greetings from individual artists and groups are included in the day's broadcasting schedule. The messages were from Band of Angels, Cliff Richard, The Temptations, The Shadows, The Four Pennies, Roy Orbison, Brian Poole and the Tremeloes, Donovan, The Honeycombs, The Supremes, Little Stevie Wonder, Dusty Springfield, Martha and the Vandellas, The Miracles, The Drifters, Bobby Vee, Peter and Gordon, Frankie Vaughan, Tom Jones and Eden Kane.

OCTOBER 21 One hundred forty four people died when a coal mine slag hill collasped the local school in Aberfan, Wales. One hundred sixteen were school children. Labour Member Mrs. B. Braddock (Liverpool Exchange) launched an appeal in her name over Caroline, for the Aberfan Disaster Appeal. As a result she was able to present a cheque for £8,100 to Mr. Cledwyn Hughes, Secretary of State for Wales
DECEMBER Planet Productions acquires the assets of Project Atlanta and Mr. Allan Crawford resigns from his direct interest in the company. Barry Ainley, who had been General Manager for several months, becomes joint managing director with main responsibilities on the administrative and financial side of Caroline. Ronan O'Rahilly continues to take responsibility for programming and sales. Educated at the Sorbonne and Madrid Universities and with a B.Sc. (Econ.) at the London School of Economics, Barry Ainley had been a Merchant Banker prior to joining Caroline, .
Ronan, tries without success, to arrange a summit meeting with the Postmaster General Mr. Ted Short, on board Caroline North.


21 Radio Caroline Club Ball at the New Brighton Tower Ballroom. It is a major event . Top line artists, including the Searchers, the Yardbirds, the Four Pennies, Brian Poole and the Tremeloes, Paul and Barry Ryan, the Honeycombs and Twinkle, are booked to appear and it is a complete sell out.
1966
JULY 2 The Government publishes The Marine etc., Broadcasting (Offences) Bill, under which broadcasts from ships and marine structures will be unlawful. It will be unlawful to instigate, finance, provide goods or in any way aid a pirate radio. The maximum penalties are to be two years imprisonment, or a fine, or both.
3 The BBC announces that it has made a proposal to the Post Office 'on the question of providing a continuous entertainment programme', probably to be carried on the Light Programme medium wavelength (247 meters).
SEPTEMBER 21 Radio Caroline North DJ Mick Luvzit and Janet Terrett (Sister of DJ "Ugly" Ray Terrett are married on board the M.V. Caroline by the ship's captain and the Panamanian consul.
OCTOBER 31 After normal close down at 8.30pm RADIO CAROLINE NORTH comes back on air at 10.30 pm to test transmit on 257 meters (1169 kHz). These tests continued every night until November 24. Day time output remains on 197 meters (1520 kHz).
DECEMBER 12 The Government publishes its White Paper on the future of broadcasting.
18 All future transmissions from RADIO CAROLINE NORTH are issued on 257 meters (1169 kHz)
1967
MARCH 16 The Government moves the second reading of the Marine etc., Broadcasting (offences) Bill to become know as the MOA. Mr. Short the Postmaster General announces the Government plans to provide more choice for listeners, by another popular music programme by the end of the year. There were also plans to provide further choice in nine selected areas, as a prelude to setting-up of a national system of local radio.

JULY 13 The BBC announces that their first local radio station will begin operations from Leicester on Nov. 8
AUGUST 15 The CAROLINE organization opens an office in Holland at Singe 160, Amsterdam. CAROLINE broadcasts continue despite M.O.A.
21 The Manx Parliament, The House of Keys, reluctantly ratifies the Marine Broadcasting Offences Act at 8.30 pm bringing it into line with the mainland. It becomes effective from midnight. At Midnight DJ Don Allan announces 'This is the Northern Voice of RADIO CAROLINE INTERNATIONAL on 259 meters, the continuing voice of free radio for the British isles.'

1968
MARCH 2 A heavy Dutch tug anchors a mile away from CAROLINE NORTH and refuses any form of communication.
10 pm: Don Allen's show ends with Jim Reeves and after watching TV most of the crew turn in.
3 2am: Dutch seamen from the tug invade the CAROLINE NORTH and hold everyone on board prisoner. The leader reads a message to the senior staff from the tender firm of Wijsmuller instructing a complete close down of the station. To avoid violence the staff comply.

5.20 am: The tug Titan pulls up alongside RADIO CAROLINE SOUTH. Half way through their hours warm up the station goes off air.. Crew from the tug representing the Wijsmuller Brothers, seize and tow the Mi Amigo into Amsterdam.
6pm: The tug, the Utrecht, takes The Fredericia under tow for Amsterdam. On arrival the staff are paid and given 'plane tickets for England. It was the last they were to hear from the station bosses.

Murph Note: The free wheeling sound of Radio Caroline North was never matched by other stations. The disc-jockeys working onboard were all friends interested in having a good time and helping their loyal listener to enjoy themselves.

Bibliography Selling the Sixties by Robert Chapman, published 1992 by Routledge 11 New Fetter Lane, London, EC4P 4EE and in USA by Routledge ISBN 0-415-07817-2 hard back ISBN 0-415-07970-5 paperback (Murph's note: I believe this is the best study of not only the pirate stations but also the commercialism of British Culture in the 60's)

When Pirates Ruled the Waves........PAUL A. HARRIS (Murph's note: Excellent study of the pirate stations)

Radio Caroline.....JOHN VENMORE-ROWLAND, THE LANDMARK PRESS LAVENHAM SUFFOLK 1967 (Murph's note: This is the Blue Book. It was the first one and has most disc-jockeys' photos)

NOTE TO US RESIDENTS: All three the above books are available through your local library and interlibrary loan. Unfortunately none are in print.

Here's a photo of Radio Veronica sleeve .