Hit on the head by Van Morrison's maracas!

FIFTY years ago Radio Caroline was a bouncing baby, just a few months old and in fine health. The station by now had ships broadcasting from either end of this sceptred isle, and its popularity was continuing to grow in phenomenal fashion. Caroline’s excited bosses spent the summer of 1964 racing around like lunatics, overflowing with new ideas and projects for their new station. World domination beckoned!

Nix Nomads - R'n'B Ipswich-style!

Caroline was undoubtedly ruling the (air)waves, but it wanted to gain a firm footing on dry land too. A series of Caroline ‘Disc Nights’ were launched at ballrooms and clubs across the nation to promote a major search for new, undiscovered songwriting talent.

Every day during the station’s ‘Caroline Club’ show, announcements were made asking songwriters to submit original unpublished work on demo discs. The best of these would be played at the composer’s nearest ‘Disc Night’ event. Those that proved most popular with the punters would then be offered to record companies and artists via Caroline’s own publishing subsidiary, Roar Music.

There was great excitement up and down the country, especially in Eastern England where Suffolk and Essex folk already had special affection for Caroline since her ships dropped anchor off Felixstowe and Walton-on-the-Naze earlier that year. A Disc Night took place exactly 50 years ago at the Savoy Ballroom in St Nicholas Street, Ipswich (previously the Hippodrome, later a bingo hall and demolished in 1985), another was held at the Royal Hotel in Lowestoft, and there was one at The Trend Club, just off Colchester High Street (now a snooker club).

The first disc jockeys to come ashore to compere these events were Simon Dee and Chris Sandford. Dee was already well on his way to becoming a household name, while Sandford was dabbling in a number of areas of showbiz, having already launched careers as a singer and actor. He appeared as Walter Potts in Coronation Street and in 1963 had a Top 20 hit with the song ‘Not Too Little Not Too Late’. He was the son of well-known TV comedian Sandy Sandford, who was playing the 1964 summer season at Great Yarmouth, so nipped down to Ipswich to watch his lad in action behind the turntables. Chris would later quit the pop industry to find success as a voice-over artist, and as a presenter and writer on angling.

The management of the Savoy Ballroom had to do a nifty bit of footwork when Radio Caroline came to town. They had a clash of bookings because popular local rhythm’n’blues outfit Nix Nomads were scheduled to appear on the same night. Fortunately an amicable solution was found and the two events merged and appeared on the same stage together.

Nix Nomads, earlier known as Nick and the Nomads, had recently turned pro and had a devoted mod following. They released one single, ‘You're Nobody (Till Somebody Loves You)’ which is nowadays highly sought-after by R&B collectors. Their line-up included Nick Wymer, Ben Foster, Ron West, Dave Cutting and Roy Clover. When they played the Caroline show they’d only just returned from a stint in Hamburg and had just landed a residency at The Top 20 Club at Felixstowe’s Forum.

Shortly after this, a wealthy American apparently offered them a five-year sponsorship deal. The future looked bright but they subsequently split after Nick answered an SOS from well-known Colchester band The Fairies, whose own lead singer had been sent to prison. Nick is still going strong nowadays and has a fine voice that bears comparison with the likes of Joe Cocker, Roger Chapman and Steve Marriott.

Back in 1964 most of the Caroline Disc Night audience acclaim was reserved for Simon Dee, who had become so popular by now he needed a fan-club secretary. He’d given this job to Mrs Olive Burgess of Second Avenue, Chelmsford. Olive had volunteered her services after meeting Simon when he turned out to crown the Basildon Carnival Queen. Olive, a mother of five teenagers, had listened to Caroline at home and been hugely impressed by the heart-throb DJ.


Colchester's Trend club in 2014: now a snooker hall.

Shortly after the Ipswich date, Disc Night came to The Trend Club at the top of George Street in Colchester. This week I mentioned this on social media and opened up a floodgate of memories! Janet Malseed remembers hitchhiking out of London that day with a friend - and the car that stopped and gave them a lift all the way to The Trend Club was none other than Simon Dee himself!  Janet also recalls other great gigs there, including appearances by Ginger Baker, Eric Clapton and Sonny Boy Williamson.

Other Colcestrians recall the Moody Blues, John Mayall, Georgie Fame, Hawkwind and Wishbone Ash all playing there. Heather Rankin recalled one night at the club when Van Morrison hit her on the head with his maracas! She didn’t mention whether this was accidental or not, but no doubt had a rather more enjoyable night on the occasion Keith Relf of the Yardbirds bought her a Coke!

'Flash those car headlights when you hear the music!'

Gerry Duncan opens the Caroline Coffee Bar in Felixstowe.

JULY 1964:  FIFTY YEARS AGO

WINSTON Churchill retired from the House of Commons at the age of 89, builders finished work on the new Post Office Tower in London, and the Beatles' first film A Hard Day’s Night hit the nation’s cinema screens.

The soundtrack to all this, and more, was being provided by Radio Caroline, by now so successful it had split into two: Caroline North, broadcasting from the MV Fredericia anchored off the Isle of Man and Caroline South, on board the MV Mi Amigo off Frinton-on-Sea.

In early July 1964 the Fredericia left its previous resting place off Felixstowe, bound for its new home and broadcasting the current chart hits as it went. As it passed the Cornish coast one of the DJs mentioned on air they’d been out of touch with news from the mainland for several days now, and bemoaned the absence of newspapers on board. Padstow pleasure boat proprietor John England heard this, collected a dozen Sunday papers from his local shop and set off in his speedboat Sea Fury. He met the ship about five miles offshore and threw the papers to the grateful crew. The station immediately played Petula Clark’s song ‘Thank You’ in return for the kind deed.

The ship, with Captain Hangerfelt at the helm, played requests for locals as it passed the Irish and Welsh coasts and as it approached the Isle of Man one of the DJs appealed for islanders to flash their car headlights out to sea that evening if they could hear the signal. The ship dropped anchor on Bahama Bank, a few miles off Ramsey, and the flickering lights in the distance gave them the news they wanted - they could be heard loud and clear!

So loud, in fact, there were soon complaints from the 100 per cent legal Manx Radio, who reckoned their audience and revenue was being stolen. Manx said if the Government wouldn’t curtail Caroline, they could at least allocate Manx a comparable wavelength of similar power so that competition would be fair.  One man who could vouch for the sheer power of the Caroline North signal was the Dutch crew member who walked too close to the ship’s huge antenna. He received a nasty 10,000 volts charge that not only badly shocked him, but gave him a radical haircut involving a three-inch bald strip from forehead to the back of his neck!

Back down south, despite the disappearance of their ‘local’ ship, the good folk of Felixstowe turned out in big numbers to witness the opening of the Caroline Coffee Bar, a trendy dive at 35 Beach Station Road on the corner of Langer Road. It was the former home of the Felix Restaurant, and not far from Jaysmith’s chip shop and the Dolphin Hotel.

Dressed in a smart suit and posing for cameramen with a bottle of Coke, Caroline’s Gerry Duncan signed autographs and declared the coffee bar open. There was some disappointment in the air as heart-throb DJ Simon Dee had originally been scheduled to appear, and his replacement Duncan was more of a producer than a glamorous DJ. But Duncan was nevertheless a talented fellow, having been responsible for Caroline's famous Sound of the Nation jingles package and who had previously worked behind the scenes on major feature films Light Up The Sky and Sink The Bismark.

Mr Howe of Shotley could listen
to Radio Caroline on his phone!

Caroline’s popularity was burgeoning and the launch of ‘Caroline Club’ was a huge success. The mail it generated, including record requests, would peak at around 20,000 items per week. A club broadcast was made on USA radio station CKLW and generated a rush of membership applications from across the Atlantic. It cost five shillings to join, and you received a smart membership card, big brochure about the station plus news updates and adverts for merchandise. Problems at the Royal Mail in mid-July hit many British businesses and caused one Caroline Club programme to be cancelled because all the raw material for the show was sitting among the piles of mail backed up in sorting offices.

This was no problem for Braintree schoolboy Martin Finning and his pal Ken Cook of Dovercourt. The two teenagers reckoned writing and posting a record request to Caroline was a ‘square’ thing to do, so decided instead to paddle out to the ship and hand it over in person. They set off in a two-seat kayak and located the South ship about three miles off Frinton, but the strong current meant they had to paddle the equivalent of five miles to reach it. Told they could not come aboard because of rules and regulations, they shouted their record requests to DJ Simon Dee up on the deck, and within minutes he’d played On The Beach by Cliff Richard for them. They listened on their little transistor radio, and with mission accomplished turned tail and paddled back to shore. The whole thing took nearly four hours but they were delighted.

Not quite so happy with the station was Mr.R.Howe of Shotley, who told the local papers in July 1964 that whenever he picked up his phone to make a call he could heard Caroline in the background. Post Office engineers were mystified and promised an investigation.

A celebrity is born on Parkeston Quay

Simon Dee publicity picture from 1964

FIFTY years ago this week, weary Radio Caroline DJ Simon Dee came ashore for the first time since the pirate station’s launch at Easter 1964. If he’d hoped for some rest and relaxation he was to be sorely disappointed.

Fellow DJs aboard the Fredericia mischievously announced on-air that Dee was heading for the port of Harwich – and hundreds of fans quickly gathered at the quayside to give him a hysterical ‘Beatle-mania’ reception.

Dee, real name Cyril Henty-Dodd, a 28-year-old former public schoolboy and RAF man, was astonished by the crowds that greeted him. He knew his stint on the pioneering pirate ship had elevated him to some sort of celebrity status, but screaming girls on this scale was a real shock. He spent at least an hour signing autographs before being whisked away.

The Caroline organisation was keen to exploit the situation and booked Dee for a number of public appearances while he was on the mainland. One of his first engagements on shore was to judge the Felixstowe Carnival Queen competition. Carnival organisers had earlier expressed concern that if their guest came directly from the ship and slipped into Felixstowe Ferry, he could be arrested on the beach, while on the other hand a legitimate landing might see him encounter problems with customs officers.

They needn’t have worried, for Dee’s minders got him back into the country without incident and he turned up at the carnival all smiles, accompanied by fellow celebrity judge Rolf Van Brandtzaeg, a senior executive at Caroline’s London office. After they ‘inspected’ the contestants for carnival queen, they awarded the crown to 18-year-old Felixstowe shop assistant Andrea Cooper.  A day or two later Dee made a surprise visit backstage at the Felixstowe Spa Pavilion to meet the cast and dancing girls from the summer show Starlight Rendezvous.

Dee also rolled up at a record shop in Ipswich's Buttermarket, and again a huge number of fans turned out to get close up and personal with the new pirate hero. The shop was reported by at least one source as being called 'Record Maintenance'. That name sounded unlikely to me, so I am grateful to Ipswich photographer Dave Kindred for pointing out it was actually called Murdoch's - and he should know because he was there to witness Simon Dee's visit!

Adam Faith performed on board Caroline in June 1964

Radio Caroline’s popularity was clear to see from such scenes, and such was the station’s pulling power that pop celebrities were willing to go out into the North Sea to visit the ship in return for having their latest records played and publicised by the station. Teen idol Adam Faith was one such visitor, performing and publicising his new single ‘I Love Being in Love With You’ which he hoped would gain him the rare accolade of 20 consecutive singles reaching the charts (or ‘hit parade’ as then known). Dressed in jeans and black sweater, he was taken to the ship on the tug Agana and returned to Parkeston Quay in the late afternoon, to be met by a crowd described as “girl office workers” clutching autograph books.

Around this time Parkeston Quay also welcomed back two Dovercourt carpenters – Ron Mitchell and Colin Sturch - who had been out to work on the ship, but had become marooned there by bad weather. They’d been hired to make alterations to cabins, but rough weather saw them stranded for days. DJs broadcast messages between records to their wives to assure them all was well and their spouses would be back soon! At one point listeners heard an appeal for a tug to be sent out immediately the weather improved, and when this was done the pair got home after at least four days on board. At the quayside they told reporters it had been very rough out there, but they’d enjoyed themselves.

Also sailing into Harwich looking a bit green around the gills were the crew of the yacht Carmen, teenage electrical engineering students from Leeds, who had been foiled in a bid to anchor in international waters near Caroline. They wanted to set up a temporary pirate station to publicise their university rag week, but instead suffered a night being seasick and scared witless as they were tossed around in Force 5 gales, the choppy sea crashing over the deck and forcing them back to land.

On the morning of June 12, thousands of Caroline listeners began to fret when they found the station had gone off the air. Calls flooded into the offices of Planet Productions in London, where a spokesman attempted to reassure everyone it was a mere temporary blip, but as there was no direct contact with the ship they couldn’t be sure what was going on. It was likely to be maintenance work on transmitters, they said. Suddenly, at around noon, the airwaves burst into life and all was well again.

Meanwhile talks continued about a merger of the two stations out in the North Sea – Caroline and Atlanta – with the idea that one of them would become ‘Radio Caroline North’ and broadcast from the Irish Sea remaining a strong possibility.

The authorities were still in a tizzy about it all. Barrister Jeremy Thorpe, Liberal MP for North Devon, introduced a Parliamentary Bill to force radio stations using advertising to formally register with the Government. He said without this the ships could be vulnerable to any warship in the world that might want to hijack airwaves for propaganda purposes. He said Caroline “currently sings like an offshore siren” but if taken over could quite easily start broadcasting inflammatory, seditious, obscene or undesirable material to an unprotected British public . . . .    


Website: www.robhadgraft.com
Twitter: @RobHadgraft

Eccentrics jump on the pirate bandwagon!

Screaming Lord Sutch launched his pirate  radio
 station on a fishing boat 50 years ago this week.
 

IMITATION is the sincerest form of flattery they say, and 50 years ago this week all manner of weird and wonderful ‘Heath Robinson’ radio stations were attempting to emulate the astonishing success of the new Radio Caroline.

Perhaps the noisiest and most surreal of all of them was Radio Sutch, brainchild of Screaming Lord Sutch, a 23-year-old rock’n’roller and part-time politician. Sutch didn’t have the backing or the resources of Caroline and his early efforts involved using rather crude equipment plonked on board a smelly fishing boat off Southend. Things improved greatly for Sutch’s little team when they happened upon the unoccupied Shivering Sands army defence fort, built on stilts nine miles out in the Thames Estuary, and decided to use that instead!

Caroline had by now attracted 6.8 million listeners in less than 10 weeks on the air. The continuous pop music, something not provided by the BBC at the time, was proving very popular and businesses were said to be queuing up to buy advertising slots. Caroline’s publicity manager announced that £60,000 worth of advertising had been booked by the end of May and another half-a-million’s worth was in negotiation. These were, of course, huge sums in 1964 terms.

With figures like this being bandied about it was no wonder other chancers wanted a slice of the action. Radio Atlanta had joined Caroline in the North Sea off the coast of NE Essex and began broadcasting in mid-May. There were strong rumours Atlanta might agree to a merger with Caroline and then head off to the Irish Sea to begin broadcasting as ‘Caroline North’. In early June there was still no sign of this happening, however, which prompted a member of the House of Keys on the Isle of Man to announce that if Caroline North didn’t launch soon, he would do the job himself and call his station Radio Vannin.

The next pop pirate project to pop up was called Radio Invicta, which set up home on the Red Sands defence fort off the Kent coast, under the leadership of fisherman Tom Pepper (real name Harry Featherbee), publican Charlie Evans and journalist John Thompson. Test transmissions were made in the first week of June as the station finalised plans to broadcast pop music to the people of the London area. (NOTE: Six months later tragedy would strike Invicta, Pepper and two others drowning after leaving Red Sands in misty conditions on a boat with engine trouble).



Shivering Sands war-time fort, home of Radio Sutch

(Pic: Hywel Williams)

The pirate stations, even those positioned in international waters, had become a real headache for the British government in June 1964, and one MP, Sir Ian Orr-Ewing, said there was one obvious way to sort out the situation and break the BBC monopoly in one fell swoop - create a proper local radio network for the UK, with small regional transmitters and small teams of local people, all funded by the private sector. It worked for local newspapers, why not radio?

Meanwhile, Screaming Lord Sutch was having a whale of a time on Shivering Sands, his playlist inevitably heavily featuring his own wacky records, released with limited success over the past three years. Late at night he broadcast ‘Saucy Bedtime Tales’ and horror stories, featuring excerpts from novels like Lady Chatterley’s Lover and Fanny Hill. According to his biographer Graham Sharpe (Aurum Books, 2005), Sutch reckoned Shivering Sands was like a hotel or a holiday camp in the middle of the sea, complete with proper toilets and bathrooms, and a big step up from the station’s earlier home, a 60-foot trawler called Cornucopia anchored off Shoeburyness. The boat had been  uncomfortable and smelt strongly of fish because they rented it out in the afternoons after the fishermen had finished with it for the day. Broadcasting times continued to vary on Radio Sutch, DJs often oversleeping and equipment breaking down. Bizarrely, their expenses were covered mostly by American evangelist groups who brought air-time to broadcast bible classes during the early hours.

Dressed in his trademark leopard-skin gear, Sutch liked to wave a Jolly Roger flag from the catwalk of the 70 feet towers to welcome any visiting boats of reporters or supporters. Having claimed squatters’ rights to the fort, they no longer suffered seasickness like many of those aboard Caroline and Atlanta, but did encounter some health problems - on one occasion DJ Colin Dale was airlifted to Margate hospital suffering badly with food poisoning. There were other hairy incidents, including a fire, DJ Brian Paull almost drowning while swimming in the sea, and various members finding themselves falling or hanging from broken ladders and walkways which were in a poor state of repair.

To begin with, it appeared the authorities would leave Sutch and his merry men alone. A war department land agent accompanied by a Gravesend police officer arrived by boat at the fort, apparently intent on serving notice on Radio Sutch they were trespassing on government property. But on arrival, having seen there was no damage to the lighting and other external aspects of the fort, they decided a formal notice was pointless and retreated.

A patrol boat from Sheerness made repeated appearances near the fort, but Sutch claimed he simply told them they were not welcome, and they too retreated. He said: “I told them the Army had left the forts and did not want them, so I had offered to buy them. No one comes aboard here unless I say so! We close all the hatches and lock all the doors if anyone we don’t like comes near us.”

Aficianados of pirate radio soon learned that Radio Sutch was little more than a publicity stunt, whereas the Caroline organisation was clearly in it for the long haul.

 

Cool jazz direct from the chilly North Sea!

Supplies arrive for the Mi Amigo (Pic: Ken Adams) 

FIFTY years ago the choppy grey waters of the North Sea could be a surreal and cool place to be. For example, sea-farers passing a certain spot just off the Essex coast on one particular day would have heard the jazzy Hammond organ sounds of American star Jimmy Smith, who was playing live from the poop deck of the motor vessel Mi Amigo!

Smith was in Britain to record music for the forthcoming MGM film Where the Spies Are, starring David Niven. He’d met Radio Caroline chief Ronan O’Rahilly at the 21 Club in London and agreed to come out to the Caroline ship and give the first-ever live performance on the new radio station.

He was duly ferried out, along with his hefty Hammond organ, drums and guitar, plus cohorts Tony Crombie and Tony Thorpe. When they found the organ wouldn’t fit inside the ship’s tiny studio they set up on the poop deck instead. Despite the noise of the wind and shrieking gulls, the sound was deemed perfect! Smith played a special composition called Hip Ship Blues, plus his hits Moonlight in Vermont and Satin Doll. Caroline's millions of listeners loved it, while those on board witnessing the cool jazz at close quarters broke into rapturous applause when the mini-show ended.

Exactly 50 years ago this week, Caroline was broadcasting from the MV Fredericia, a mile or two off the coast from Felixstowe, and had been recently joined by the Radio Atlanta team, aboard the MV Mi Amigo, which anchored a short distance away, just off Frinton-on-Sea. Both were positioned in international waters, but close enough for smaller boats containing fans, journalists and rag week students to set out to visit them from time to time. It was pretty hectic and the Customs and Coastguard people were having their work cut out to keep pace with it all.

Atlanta, set up by Australian entrepreneur Allan Crawford, began test broadcasts before their first proper programming commenced with a show by DJ Colin Nicol. Audience figures for Caroline were by now huge, and the debate over the two stations’ legality (or otherwise) continued to drag on, with strong rumours emanating from Westminster that because they were fulfilling a clear need, legislation to force them off the air might not be introduced after all. The ships were deliberately positioned just outside GB territorial waters so controlling them was no easy task.

It was widely tipped that Caroline and Atlanta would soon merge, their respective bosses claiming they were no longer deadly rivals fighting for the same audience, as was initially the case. They were also both well aware of the huge profit-making potential of broadcasting adverts between the pop records. ITV even devoted an episode of its prime-time weekly show World in Action to the story.

The very first advert heard over the Caroline airwaves was on behalf of Woburn Abbey, the country seat of the Duke of Bedford. It was so successful that the following day Woburn welcomed 4,500 visitors despite bad weather, a big increase on normal figures. This satisfied customer would be quickly followed by ads from Peter Evans Restaurants, the News of the World and Phoenix Rubber, as well as smaller businesses from Suffolk and Essex on the nearby coast.

Songwriters and music publishers’ were not quite so happy with the pirates, however, and talks were held to thrash out a formal agreement  for the stations to start paying the Performing Rights Society for the music it was broadcasting 12 hours each day. This showed the pirates were willing to go ‘legit’ in order to keep the authorities happy. Not only this, they were even willing to sponsor projects on the British mainland, Caroline helping fund a Formula 3 Brabham racing car. It did well under its new colours, featuring in the prize money on six occasions over the spring and summer of 1964.

Having been delayed and closely questioned by Customs officials at the port of Brightlingsea, a group of journalists headed out one morning to the ships looking for stories about the new pop pirate phenomenon. They were delighted to find that on board the Mi Amigo, skipper Gerard Meyer was accompanied by his wife Irene. The pair had married ten months earlier, and revealed that this stint on the North Sea was the first time they'd been able to live together!

The ships welcomed the attention of the journos, but were not quite so relaxed when their supply vessel was reportedly ‘taken over’ by eight students who were apparently attempting to out-pirate the pirates! The students arrived on board Caroline (after a delay due to engine trouble) but met with little resistance from the crew and DJs after explaining they were from SE Essex College of Technology in Dagenham and only wanted to publicise a rag week appeal in aid of starving third world children. The teenagers were allowed to broadcast their message and were named as Lorraine Maughan, Janice Sibthorpe, Dee Hunter-Williams, Lesley Sinclair, Chris Williams, Graham Dove, Tony Cole and Ron Newbury. I wonder what became of them? 

This rag week idea caught on, and before long students from Leeds University came down to Essex with a yacht, complete with radio transmitter, to join the fun in the North Sea. Their plans went awry however, when a group of colleagues arrived to relieve the team already on board, but made the mistake of driving their Land Rover into shallow waters on the foreshore at Harwich. It quickly began to sink and suffered considerable damage before it could be towed out hours later. The students' plan to become radio pirates suddenly lost its appeal and they decided to leave it to the experts on Caroline and Atlanta.

Meanwhile, three miles out in the North Sea, the music played on . . . 

* FOOTNOTE: The live performance on board Caroline by Jimmy Smith and his band has been the subject of conjecture among pirate radio enthusiasts over the years. Some sources say it happened in May 1964, others say it was a year later in 1965. Jon Myer who compiled the Pirate Radio Hall of Fame and knows a thing or two about this subject, tells me it was almost certainly May 1965, and, what is more, this has been confirmed by Jimmy’s guitarist that day, Tony Thorpe. Tony, incidentally, went on to achieve success in the pop charts with The Rubettes and The Firm. Those of you old enough to remember the No.1 hit Sugar Baby Love on Top of the The Pops, might remember the band member with the huge glasses . . .  that’s him! 



* Tony Thorpe . . . from the
North Sea to Top of the Pops!





 

12 hours of pop hits every day? Send in the gunboats!

UNDER FIRE: Postmaster General Reginald Bevins was
condemned over the Great Train Robbery in 1963 and
 a year later found himself at war with Britain's teenagers.

On April 20, 1964 ...  

FIFTY years ago this weekend the Caroline organisation were celebrating the news that after three weeks on air their signal could be received by 19 million people across England and an astonishing seven million listeners over the age of 17 had tuned in.

These stats were issued by the experts at Gallup and proved what a remarkable success the station had become, especially as there had been no advance publicity or promotion.

Strong rumours were continuing that another ship was shortly to join the Fredericia in the North Sea, but it wasn’t clear how this would pan out. Would this be a rival for Caroline, or would the two vessels join forces and work on getting an even bigger audience? Time would tell.

Some of Caroline’s keenest fans lived on or near the coasts of Essex and Suffolk and liked to drive down to spots near Felixstowe or Walton-on-the-Naze to see if they could view the ship. On a clear day this could be achieved, and many a courting couple parked facing the sea, snuggled up with their transistor radio and fish and chips, and gazed out to sea while the pop music played.

The UK government’s apparent intention to close Caroline down infuriated much of the population at large. One listener from Ipswich wrote to the East Anglian Daily Times: “The main factor which makes my hair bristle and blood pressure double, is that the GPO now suggests we are committing an offence by merely listening to Radio Caroline! Should I stand in dire terror, awaiting the stamp of jack-boots and the thought of a swastika-clad arm to clamp round my shoulder to hustle me and my family off to a concentration camp? What the hell do they think this is – Nazi-occupied Europe of about 20 years ago?”

The government was becoming a laughing stock, and another letter writer trilled: “It gives me horripilation just to think about it, but I cannot get it off my mind. I have committed a grave crime against the community as a whole: I have listened to Radio Caroline. There I have said it.”

The Tory MP for Maldon, Essex - Brian Harrison - raised the matter in the House of Commons half-a-century ago this week.  He urged the Postmaster General Reginald Bevins to do nothing to deprive the people of East Anglia of the first decent radio programmes they’d had for a long time. This was greeted with huge cheers. Bevins replied that they were looking into the possibility of legislation and jamming of the signal, but admitted they would proceed “cautiously.”

The town of Felixstowe loved the new station. A fishmonger, (positioned right next door to the Post Office!) was offering “Caroline skate” to his customers. And members of the town’s Round Table hired a small boat to take them out to the Caroline ship, to persuade the DJs to give publicity to the forthcoming town carnival. Mike Leighton, Arthur Spraggons and Toby Hosegood were welcomed aboard by Captain Mackay for a chat and a hot drink.

As the pop hits continued unabated from the North Sea, 12 hours non-stop every day, not everybody back on land was enjoying the situation.  D. Godfrey of Jupiter Avenue in Ipswich told the Ipswich Evening Star that Caroline wasn’t there to simply to meet a demand, but was designed to exploit for gain a loophole in the broadcasting laws. He added, presumably tongue in cheek, that 12 hours of continuous pop music was a “hostile act” and this justified the intervention of gunboats!

Queen's boss tells Government where to get off!

On Thursday 9^th April, 1964 . . .

RADIO Caroline had barely been on the air a fortnight when the battle to keep her there escalated into a full-scale war of words.

Fifty years ago today, on April 9. 1964, Jocelyn Stevens - the Old Etonian publisher of Queen magazine - confirmed publicly that he was a major financial backer of Caroline. He 'went public' with this because of his fury over the frantic government attempts to get the new station closed down.

Stevens - who later became MD at the Evening Standard and Daily Express, chairman of English Heritage and a knight of the realm - said on this day: “Whenever anyone in this country gets a new idea, someone else gets up and says they can’t do it, and finally you have the Establishment inventing laws.

“I am quite convinced [Caroline] is doing nothing illegal or harmful and I resent being accused of interfering with shipping when we have an Admiralty spokesman saying we are not. The only reason we are doing it from a boat is because it is not allowed on land. We are not trying to behave in an irresponsible manner. We believe in commercial broadcasting.”

Stevens (left) and his money had played a major part in getting the station on air from the North Sea at Easter 1964, along with backing from John Sheffield, chairman of Norcross and Jimmy Ross, owner of Ross Foods.

Fifty years ago today it was also being widely reported Phonographic Performance Ltd, the company which controlled broadcasting of recorded music, was seeking to bring an injunction against Caroline. The station’s founder Ronan O’Rahilly laughed this off, saying as far as he knew it wasn’t illegal to play records outside Britain in international waters.
On the same day, it was reported that the Caroline ship had not moved from its position a few miles off Felixstowe, despite the suggestion earlier that the bad weather had persuaded the skipper it ought to move to a new position well away from shipping lanes.

Meanwhile on land, listeners numbered in the millions by now, and on this day 50 years ago, a group of enthusiasts from Ipswich got together to launch a ‘Save Caroline’ petition to ensure the new phenomenon wouldn’t be taken away.

Roger Beckwith, who had gathered a team of around 15 helpers, stated: “We’ve been listening to Caroline and think they are getting a raw deal. Everywhere we go we hear Radio Caroline being played, It’s something that has not been done before, a service the BBC does not provide. People today obviously want to be able to listen to music throughout the day. We are having petition forms printed and will distribute them to every public house in Ipswich, Felixstowe, Colchester and Stowmarket.

One of Roger’s helpers, S. Munson, made the point: “Factory workers tell me they work better for having some decent music to listen to. I think it’s a very good thing and we shouldn’t allow it to be banned.”  

So what exactly were listeners of Caroline being treated to 50 years ago this week? Here’s the top of the ‘Hit Parade’ for both sides of the Atlantic that week:

UK TOP 20 – April 9, 1964

1  Can’t Buy Me Love – Beatles

2  Little Children - Billy J.Kramer & Dakotas

3  Just One Look - Hollies
4  Not Fade Away - Rolling Stones
5  I Love You Because – Jim Reeves
6  I Believe – Bachelors
7  Bits and Pieces – Dave Clark Five
8  Diane – Bachelors
9  That Girl Belongs to Yesterday – Gene Pitney
10  Anyone Who Had a Heart – Cilla Black
11  Tell Me When – Applejacks
12  Boys Cry – Eden Kane
13  World Without Love – Peter & Gordon
14  Theme for Young Lovers – Shadows
15  I Think of You – Merseybeats
16  Over You – Freddie & the Dreamers
17  Let Me Go Lover – Kathy Kirby
18  Viva Las Vegas – Elvis Presley
19  Stay Awhile- Dusty Springfield
20  Good Golly Miss Molly – Swinging Blue Jeans

BILLBOARD USA TOP 20 (April 9, 1964)

1  Can’t Buy Me Love - Beatles
2  Twist & Shout - Beatles
3  She Loves You - Beatles
4  I Want To Hold Your Hand - Beatles
5  Please Please Me - Beatles
6  Suspicion - Terry Stafford
7  Hello Dolly - Louis Armstrong
8  The Shoop Shoop Song - Betty Everett
9  My Heart Belongs To Only You - Bobby Vinton
10  Glad All Over - Dave Clark Five
11  Dawn(Go Away) - Four Seasons
12  The Way You Do The Things You Do - Temptations
13  Fun,Fun,Fun - Beach Boys
14  Don't Let The Rain (Crooked Little Man) - Serendipity Singers
15  Needles & Pins - Searchers
16  Stay - Four Seasons
17  Kissin' Cousins - Elvis Presley
18  You're A Wonderful One - Marvin Gaye
19  Java - Al Hirt
20  High Heel Sneakers - Tommy Tucker

Government cranks up pressure on Radio Caroline

April 6, 1964

FIFTY years ago today the jolly team aboard the Caroline ship got a real fright when they went up on deck and found they were being ‘visited’ by the Royal Navy.

It turned out the HMS Venture was a survey ship which visited this area annually to check local waters and make notes on Admiralty charts of any new wrecks, piers or ships anchored off Harwich. Fans of the new radio station were worried there might be trouble, but a Navy spokesman said the Venture would only have made contact with Caroline to establish her  long-term plans, so they could amend their charts accordingly.

It was becoming clear that Caroline’s presence in the North Sea was causing a tourist boom in the town of Felixstowe, where local boatmen were setting up lucrative taxi services and taking fans out to see the Caroline ship from close quarters.

Over April 5 and 6, the weather was changeable and very windy and led to some breaks in transmission, but each stoppage only lasted a few minutes. The recent gales and heavy winds caused some minor damage aboard the ship.

When the weather improved and the first April sunshine showed itself, thousands of sightseers in cars streamed to the coast armed with binoculars to get a look at the ship – but for some time visibility was so good that it could be seen with the naked eye. A number of small planes took people out to get a bird’s-eye view. The normally quiet Felixstowe town centre had never seen anything like it: Police said some of the visitors stayed in their cars because of the cold wind, but many people roamed around and there were a number of cases of children getting lost. Teenagers carrying transistor radios tuned to Caroline filled the shopping areas for hours.

It was estimated that around 20,000 letters had been posted by fans, intended for the DJs on board. The Ipswich Evening Star newspaper had to appeal to readers to stop sending them letters as they couldn’t undertake to forward them on. Youngsters captivated by Caroline were desperate to have their requests played and tried anything to get their messages on board.

There was plenty of discussion over how the authorities were determined to find a way of stopping Caroline. As a result, Wendy Bryce, aged 17, and her friend Pat Cunningham, 19, both apprentice hairdressers, picketed a BBC transmitter in their home village of Wrotham, Kent. They told reporters they were members of the ‘Radio Caroline Defence League’ and were waving ‘Hands Off Caroline’ placards.

Some corners of the ‘establishment’ were not opposed to Caroline, however. For example the leader writer of the East Anglian Daily Times reckoned everyone had a sneaking admiration for the pirate radio ship and the brilliant enterprise with which 23-year-old Irishman O’Rahilly had launched his plans. At present there seemed little real evidence the transmissions were interfering with vital life-saving communications, said the EADT, and Caroline had emerged as well-prepared for the ‘cat and mouse’ game with the authorities that was developing.

Roy Mason, the Labour MP for Barnsley South urged the Postmaster General Reg Bevins to either jam Caroline’s signal or quickly prepare legislation to make such stations illegal. Bevins responded that they were examining all possibilities and hadn’t been idle. He pointed out  the big advertising associations had assured them the major advertisers would boycott Caroline, the gramophone industry was also cooperating with the authorities, and the Panama government had this week withdrawn the ship’s registration.

The Caroline officials laughed this off. Ronan O’Rahilly issued a statement expressing great surprise about the alleged advertising boycott. He said: “We are, at this moment, conducting arrangements with the leading agencies and advertisers for the allocation of air time . . . . I cannot see Caroline doing anyone any harm. Nobody is forced to listen, but the fact that millions are indicates to me that, on the contrary, we are providing a service to the public.” Sunderland South Tory MP Paul Williams was sympathetic and asked the House of Commons “Who is Caroline harming exactly?”

The Postmaster General responded that there had been interference caused by Caroline’s signal in the Antwerp area of Belgium, and there had been interference involving British maritime services.

The government’s reasons for opposing Caroline were, frankly, sounding rather vague and weak and things seemed to be going well for the station. The record industry was supplying free records to get their artists heard, listening figures were enormous and advertisers queuing up to buy air time. O’Rahilly’s only immediate concern seemed to be the possibility of the signal causing interference – something he urged his technicians to keep a close eye on.

'Excuse me sir, you can't listen to that. You're nicked!'

 

Radio Caroline's first day of broadcasting at sea in 1964  

FIFTY years ago this week you had to be very careful which radio station you chose to listen to.

 

A workman in Berners Road, Felixstowe got a nasty shock as he was repairing a house with the new offshore station Radio Caroline playing in the background on his little portable tranny.

 

A policeman apparently sidled up to him and issued a warning that it was illegal to listen to this new-fangled pirate ship and he would be reported if he continued to do so. Luckily the worker wasn’t up a ladder at the time, or he might have tumbled off in astonishment.

The incident was relayed to the local weekly paper The Felixstowe Times by a 16-year-old lad who witnessed the whole thing. The paper seized on the story – another new angle on a topic that had dominated the news in recent days – and contacted Felixstowe police.
 

A spokesman at the local nick denied any of their constables had spoken to any labourers in this way, and a spokesman for the GPO confirmed no such reports had been made to them. The latter added that although it was technically an offence under the Wireless Telegraphy Act of 1949 to listen to ‘pirate’ broadcasts, it would be difficult and unlikely that the Post Office would press charges against anyone.
 

Seemingly the authorities couldn’t attack Caroline via its listeners, so attention focussed on whether the new ship was causing any interference with its broadcasts. Vague reports abounded that there had been an adverse effect on ship-to-shore communications involving HM Coastguard and Trinity House, but the Caroline people hit back with the news that an experienced ex-BBC technician called Arthur Carrington had visited the ship and was satisfied there had been no interference with maritime wavelengths.
 

The authorities, led by Postmaster-General Reginald Bevins, weren’t giving up that easily. A report was sent to the International Telecommunications Union (ITU) at Geneva and complaints made to the Panamanian government, whose flag was being flown by the Caroline ship.
 

Meanwhile Mrs Alma Perrin, the wife of a Caroline PR executive on board the ship, complained that she had attempted to get through to her husband via phone link, but was told by the GPO that ship-shore communications had been suspended because this was an illegal enterprise. It meant the ship’s only way of communicating was via its radio transmitters.
 

There was talk of a full-scale blockade being planned and it was clear the British authorities were going to make it difficult or impossible for the ship to be supplied or assisted by small boats sailing out from the nearby Essex and Suffolk coast.
 

Nevertheless, by this point Caroline had already received its first visit from a supply tender, which dumped on board NINE full sacks of mail for the DJs from delighted listeners. The people on board, unsure how their shows were being received, were astonished as they tore open the packages and found pullovers, chocolates, ski-hats and cigarettes among the many letters of good wishes and requests for records to be played.
 

The fledgling DJs got quite emotional at the sheer scale of it all and Simon Dee said later: “When we saw that lot, we knew for sure there was now no turning back!”  Fan mail was also piling up in vast amounts at Caroline’s little office in London and at its shipping agent in Church Street, Harwich.
 

Not such good news for those at sea was something else that was building up - some of the worst April weather seen for many years . . . .