IT’S been 45 years since a young Marion Adamson stepped on board a ship and into a world that would revolutionise the future of music in the UK. The Mollymook retiree is a pioneer of Radio Caroline, England’s illegal (1) offshore radio station made famous last week with the release of the movie The Boat That Rocked. And rock it did!
“Those were wild, fun times,” Mrs Adamson told the Milton Ulladulla Times in Australia.
“We were free, we were rebellious, it was the ‘60s and anything was possible.”
A radio music programmer in Sydney, Marion travelled to London at the age of 25 and through her connections ended up on board the ‘Mi Amigo’ the very first (1) Radio Caroline ship that operated in international waters off the coast of Essex.
The group of young rebel rockers began broadcasting on Easter Sunday, 1964.
The station, with its mix of modern music from the likes of the Stones, Beatles and Dusty Springfield and a series of hip programs, became an overnight success with seven million listeners tuning in across the UK in the first week.
“We had no idea there would be such a phenomenal response,” Mrs Adamson said.
“But with no commercial radio permitted in England at the time we broke new ground and had 22 million listeners after the first month.”
Commercial radio was illegal in the BBC-dominated UK, so the offshore radio operators were soon dubbed the radio pirates and developed a cult following that still exists today.
“It was totally illegal and the government did all they could to sabotage us, but we got around that by getting our supplies sent via Spain and being paid through Panama (1).
“It was illegal to supply the ship will food or records or to advertise or provide financial backing to the station and we paid no taxes or royalties to the British Government,” she said.
“Because it was also illegal to board the ship, we would catch a supply boat out into international waters and jump across in the middle of the North Sea.”
“It could be pretty hairy at times, especially during a force eight gale, but it was a real adventure,” she said.
The first woman on board, Marion worked on Radio Caroline for two years, travelling back to her base in London every two weeks.
She said the ‘pirates’ received a fabulous response from the public and opened the flood gates for commercial radio and rock music in the UK.
“At the time the BBC was the only radio station and it was very stayed and conventional.
“We were out there, fun and the whole thing rocked - that’s what the people wanted in the ‘60s.
“We changed the future of music in Britain and the world.”
Marion told the Times the Mi Amigo sunk during heavy seas in 1980, but Radio Caroline still operates today – with a licence and on land.
Many of the original Caroliners still keep in contact and share memories of many good times on board in the 1960s when dreams came true.
(1) The passage of time obiously plays trick on the mind. Readers of the paper soon commented: 1) Radio Caroline were not illegal as they operated outside the 3 mile limit in international waters . ( the government did try later to close them down by making it illegal to advertise or work on it but Caroline refused to give in and carried on) 2) The first Caroline ship was not the mi Amigo , but the MV Caroline (aka Frederica) , the Mi Amigo was the 2nd ship when caroline merged with radio Atlanta in 1964 After the mi amigo sank , a new ship the Ross Revenge was used from 1983 - 1991 when draconian laws made it virtually impossible to continue from the sea Today they broadcast from land and from the Ross Revenge, via www.radiocaroline.co.uk , and sky tv chanel 0199
Also Steve Ladd told his story in Australia (Tasmania Examiner):
The radio pirate who became a real Ladd - `Here were these quite outrageous people'
14/06/2009 PIP LEES reports.
BRITISH comedy movie The Boat That Rocked might seem outrageous but a former radio pirate says it's right on the money.
The movie hilariously depicts a generation captivated by rogue DJs, pop music and parties, and Tasmania's Steve Oliver was at the heart of it.
For a period in the '60s and '70s, life was much different for the Tasmanian, working in Britain under the alias Steve Ladd as a radio pirate.
He worked in commercial radio in Australia from the time he was 16 and decided to go to England, where he landed a job at the BBC.
The position was not in broadcasting as he had hoped, but while working in the record library he made contacts and learned a lot about the industry.
"A friend of mine said why not go out to the pirate radio ships because they were looking for disc jockeys, so I packed up and off I went."
The Marine Broadcasting Act was introduced in the UK in 1967 and was designed to increase government control over commercial broadcasting.
One such commercial station was Radio Northsea International (RNI), which operated about 30km off the coast of Brightlingsea, the ship named after the Marine Etc Broadcasting Offences Act, or MEBO II. It was on MEBO II that Mr Oliver became RNI disc jockey Steve Ladd.
"I used a family name which was Ladd rather than Oliver, which was on my passport, because if I used my real name I couldn't go in and out of Britain because you would either be fined or jailed."
During this time there were a number of illegal commercial radio stations operating out of ships off the British coast including Radio Caroline, on which the movie is based.
"It was very much like the movie, in fact I could almost identify with everyone in the movie because the characters were so similar. I actually saw myself as Carl the young bloke who came on - you see the ship from his point of view."
14.6.09
7.6.09
Caroline's Simon Dee, talks publicly for the first time in 20 years
FORTY years ago he was the biggest star on TV, attracting audiences of 15 million. Simon Dee pioneered the chat show, compered Miss World, and appeared on Juke Box Jury and Top of the Pops. Then he disappeared from public view, his star waning as swiftly as it had risen. Now, for the first time in some 20 years, he has spoken publicly. Dee, 73, has made his home in Hampshire for the past 15 years.
During the Sixties the trailblazing DJ, who helped launch offshore Radio Caroline in 1964, was the hottest ticket in town. Simon Dee was not his real name however. “When we began Caroline, sitting out there in the middle of the North Sea putting on LP tracks in a force nine was a challenge we overcame – a chap named Henty-Dodd couldn’t exactly introduce The Stones!” he recalled. “So I adopted Simon Dee as a stage name, and so it remained.”He moved to BBC radio and in 1967, he was offered Dee Time, a twice-weekly TV chat show. “In the first week we had two million viewers, the next four million, and by the end of the first month, 12 million,” he said. Sammy Davis Jr, Lee Marvin, Bob Hope, Charlton Heston, John Lennon were among the interviewees. Dee commanded a reported £100,000 TV contract. But within a few short years he couldn’t pay his rates, and later ‘signed on’ at Fulham labour exchange — with the tabloid press there to record it. Today he lives in Hyde, Winchester, and cuts a more anonymous figure, far removed from the star who was mobbed on the streets. Speaking of those far-off days, he says: “I had at last found my vocation. Now I was scoring – people liked me. It was fame, and it lifted me up to a new level. “Sadly, honesty and intelligence have vanished from national TV. Truth, interesting stimulating conversation, and, above all, real ‘showbusiness’ has been replaced by juvenile ‘reality’ shows and endless audition programmes. We need to remember what original entertainers and entertainment is all about. “I’ve no regrets. If you change your past, you change your present. Bitterness destroys, but laughter lifts you, it’s all been enlightening, but as a girlfriend said the other day, ‘you’ve still got your hair!’ Of Winchester he says: “It’s a pleasant place to live. But the council needs a kick up the backside about the state of the pavements. And rather too many beggars, much as I feel sympathy with them.”
During the Sixties the trailblazing DJ, who helped launch offshore Radio Caroline in 1964, was the hottest ticket in town. Simon Dee was not his real name however. “When we began Caroline, sitting out there in the middle of the North Sea putting on LP tracks in a force nine was a challenge we overcame – a chap named Henty-Dodd couldn’t exactly introduce The Stones!” he recalled. “So I adopted Simon Dee as a stage name, and so it remained.”He moved to BBC radio and in 1967, he was offered Dee Time, a twice-weekly TV chat show. “In the first week we had two million viewers, the next four million, and by the end of the first month, 12 million,” he said. Sammy Davis Jr, Lee Marvin, Bob Hope, Charlton Heston, John Lennon were among the interviewees. Dee commanded a reported £100,000 TV contract. But within a few short years he couldn’t pay his rates, and later ‘signed on’ at Fulham labour exchange — with the tabloid press there to record it. Today he lives in Hyde, Winchester, and cuts a more anonymous figure, far removed from the star who was mobbed on the streets. Speaking of those far-off days, he says: “I had at last found my vocation. Now I was scoring – people liked me. It was fame, and it lifted me up to a new level. “Sadly, honesty and intelligence have vanished from national TV. Truth, interesting stimulating conversation, and, above all, real ‘showbusiness’ has been replaced by juvenile ‘reality’ shows and endless audition programmes. We need to remember what original entertainers and entertainment is all about. “I’ve no regrets. If you change your past, you change your present. Bitterness destroys, but laughter lifts you, it’s all been enlightening, but as a girlfriend said the other day, ‘you’ve still got your hair!’ Of Winchester he says: “It’s a pleasant place to live. But the council needs a kick up the backside about the state of the pavements. And rather too many beggars, much as I feel sympathy with them.”
6.6.09
Radio Waddenzee afgemeerd in Harlingen
Vrijdag 5 juni is het voormalige lichtschip dat nu in gebruik is als Radio Waddenzee afgemeerd in de Nieuwe Industriehaven in het Nederlandse Harlingen. De klus werd geklaard door de sleepboten Anita en Theo van Tuinman Sleepdienst. Het station zond twee weken lang op zee uit als een hommage aan de zeezenderij van weleer. Tijdens de uitzendingen vanaf zee kreeg de Nederlandse ploeg versterking van de Engelstalige collega's van Radio Seagull, die de nachtuitzendingen voor hun rekening nemen. Radio Waddenzee kocht het lichtschip in 2005. Het lag aan de kade in Rotterdam weg te roesten. Het schip, de "Jenni Baynton" deed, na haar pensoen als drijvend vuurtoren voor de Engelse kust, jaren dienst als discoboot in de Rotterdamse haven.
3.6.09
Former Caroline rigger dies
Harry Spencer, one of the characters who made Cowes the centre of yachting excellence and traditional style, has died. Harry Spencer, MBE, was born in Gurnard on the Isle of Wight, in September 1925. He grew up in Cowes and went to Denmark Road School. Leaving school at 14, he entered employment at J. S. White’s shipyard in Cowes. This was the start of a very varied and colourful career, which included working as shipyard apprentice, pattern maker, yacht hand, yacht yard foreman, a mate on coastal vessels, delivery skipper, shipwright, sail maker, and rigger. Later on he settled back in Cowes and eventually founded Spencer Rigging and afterwards, Spencer Thetis Wharf, and Thetis Engineering. Spencer Rigging was started up in 1958 at West Cowes and since then the business has continuously expanded and has now gained expertise in supplying to many diverse industries on a worldwide basis. Harry and his colleagues completed many unusual and challenging projects, including the rigging of Radio Caroline, converting an Arctic trawler into a three-masted topsail schooner, carving a miniature Edinburgh Castle in the tiller end of the Duke of Edinburgh’s yacht, the manufacture of all the mast, spars and rigging for the Warner Bros. replica of HMS Bounty, and towing a 140 tonne Princess Flying Boat with a 200ft wingspan across the River Medina with his beloved launch, Domino. Spencer Rigging is simply an extension of Harry’s personality, a mere blend of artistic sensibility and brute force, with his unerring sense of the right way to do a thing, and his uncanny skill in managing any impossible job the world brings. He was a larger-than-life character with a heart of gold. He passed away peacefully and leaves his wife, two sons, and four grandchildren.
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