Pirate Radio

The 1960s pirate radio phenomenon rested on a simple loophole and a clever understanding of maritime law.

If a ship was moored three or more miles off the British coastline, it was technically sailing in international waters. A commercial radio station broadcasting from that ship – without a licence, on a stolen frequency, and with no intention of paying taxes – was legally untouchable.

The British government, police, Navy, Customs & Excise and Coastguard had no jurisdiction outside British territorial waters.

The idea began in Europe, where Pirate radio ships had been broadcasting off the coasts of Holland, Denmark and Sweden since 1960.

But it took a 23-year-old Irishman named Ronan O’Rahilly (pictured at left) to see its true potential.

As the agent of singer Georgie Fame, he knew firsthand the difficulties of securing airplay for artists without a big record label’s backing.

The BBC was restricted in the amount of records it could play by agreements with the Musicians’ Union and other organisations, and was naturally conservative in its choice of music, while Radio Luxembourg‘s pop output was largely determined by Britain’s four major record companies, who leased air time from the station to promote their own products.

The Birth of the Pirates

O’Rahilly’s Radio Caroline appeared in 1964 and revolutionised British radio. By giving airplay to new groups, the pirates curbed the major labels’ dominance and made the BBC look like a dinosaur.

Attempts to silence the stations began immediately: Phonographic Performances Ltd (PPL) claimed that the two pirates were infringing copyright every time they played a record and unsuccessfully sought a court injunction, while the Conservative Government threatened to take legislative action to outlaw them — action that was postponed because of the possible damage it might cause to the party’s chances in the impending general election.

In late May, Radio Sutch began broadcasting, not from a ship this time but from an abandoned Second World War gun tower in the Thames estuary.

The brainchild of eccentric pop personality Screaming Lord Sutch, the station broadcast over a small area and struggled financially until Sutch sold his interest to his manager, Reg Calvert, who re-christened it Radio City.

In June, Radio Invicta was launched from another fort and lasted until January 1965, when it became King Radio.

Then, in December 1964, the ever-growing list of pirate stations expanded to include probably the most professionally run and popular pirate of all, Radio London (‘Big L’).

Top 40 Format

As the new Labour Government (elected in October 1964) inherited its predecessor’s reluctance to act on the pirates — again for electoral reasons — yet more stations appeared.

Radio 390 took over from King Radio in September 1965; Radio Essex began transmitting that same month; Radio Scotland launched in January 1966, and Radio England and Britain Radio were in operation a few months later.

Only Radio 390 deviated from the rigid formula of the latest pop hits, disc-jockey patter, and commercials that Caroline had established early on.

It classed itself as a “sweet music station” and played mainly orchestral and light music, but its programmes also included such novelties as “Eve, the Woman’s Magazine of the Air”, a daily serial and the radio equivalent of a personal column.

The pirates unashamedly modelled themselves on US pop stations, with their emphasis on non-stop music — most kept to a strict Top 40 playlist — and commercials. They even adopted call-signs and jingles, most produced by the Fun Factory organisation in Austin, Texas.

Precisely which discs the stations played often depended on financial arrangements with record companies: Radio Caroline was particularly notorious for this, charging £8 per play and heavily promoting discs with Caroline-owned songs (published by a sister company) as flip sides.

Few stations paid any attention to the sales charts, and Radio London was unusual in leaving the playlist selection to the disc jockeys themselves. This approach gave unprecedented exposure to dozens of new acts, boosted smaller record companies’ chances, and undermined the power of Britain’s major labels.

And although the record industry officially condemned the pirates, they continued to bombard the stations with free records and promotional material, well aware of their ability to make or break a record.

The Honeycombs‘ Have I The Right?, Neil Christian‘s That’s Nice, PP Arnold‘s First Cut Is The Deepest, Unit Four Plus Two‘s Concrete And Clay, Keith West’s Excerpt From A Teenage Opera, Chris Farlowe‘s Out Of Time and Procol Harum‘s Whiter Shade Of Pale were a few of the discs that probably would not have become hits without the pirates

The disc jockeys – who frequently had to broadcast in atrocious weather while their ships rolled giddily – were nearly all newcomers to radio, though a few had broadcasting experience in Canada and the United States.

Simon Dee (pictured above) and Tony Blackburn answered Caroline’s pre-launch recruitment advertisement in New Musical Express, while others were chosen from the barrage of tapes enthusiastic amateurs sent to the stations once the pirate bandwagon started rolling.

Their slick, Americanised yet quaintly unprofessional style of presentation offered a welcome contrast to that of their BBC and Luxembourg counterparts; some, like Caroline’s Tony Blackburn and Emperor Rosko, Radio Scotland’s Stuart Henry (pictured at left) and London’s Kenny Everett, even achieved star status on a par with the artists whose discs they played.

Simon Dee became the first pirate DJ to join the BBC in 1965, eventually hosting his own television chat show, while other familiar radio names from the pirate era included John Peel, Dave Cash, Ed Stewart, Pete Drummond, Tommy Vance, Dave Lee Travis, Tony Brandon and Johnnie Walker.

Commercial break

The stations depended on advertising to survive, and Caroline and London, in particular, could charge high rates. Findus, Shell, Weetabix, VP Wines, the News of the World, Alberto Shampoos, the National Coal Board and the Egg Marketing Board (both Government bodies) all used the pirates, booking their commercials through leading London-based advertising agencies.

Caroline charged £90 for 30 seconds of airtime, London £56, and Radio Essex (the smallest of all the pirates) a modest £8 10s (£8.50) for the same amount. With many stations making substantial profits — and untaxed profits at that — they gained a powerful ally in the advertising industry, whose requests for some kind of national commercial radio had been turned down by successive Governments in the pre-pirate years.

Actual ownership of the stations rested mainly with obscure American trust funds. Radio England, for instance, was registered in the name of a British company (Pier Vick Ltd) but was almost wholly financed by a syndicate of US investors, while Radio London was owned by the Marine Investment Co Inc of Freeport in the Bahamas, which spent £500,000 on launching the station and registering the ship in Liechtenstein.

Some stations also dealt with wealthy American religious organisations like the Seventh-day Adventist School, which paid thousands of pounds to broadcast 15-minute sermons.

End of an era

With the exact nature of the stations’ financial backing shrouded in mystery, it was inevitable that they would fall prey to ownership crises, behind-the-scenes double-dealing, and the occasional real act of piracy.

Initially regarded as harmless and even admirable upholders of the spirit of free enterprise, the pirates began to earn themselves a distinctly sordid reputation during 1966, especially following the murder of Radio City owner Reg Calvert at the home of Radio Atlanta founder Major Oliver Smedley.

Many unsavoury facts about the pirate radio station business came to light during the trial and, though Smedley was acquitted, it turned public and Government opinion firmly against the stations’ continuance.

The British Government’s Marine Broadcasting (Offences) Act duly became law on 15 August 1967, and silenced all British offshore pirate radio stations apart from Radio Caroline.

The Government opposed pirate radio for many reasons, including complaints about interference from overseas countries and the fact that the broadcasters were accountable to no one.

The pirates did at least force a rethink in Government broadcasting policy, and in response to the obvious popularity of the outlawed stations, the BBC was directed to set up its own pop network, Radio 1, which came on the air in 1967.

Radio 1 and the Pirate Legacy

Manned almost entirely by ex-pirate staff, the new station was nevertheless seen by many as an unsatisfactory alternative.

Needle-time restrictions and a ridiculously limited playlist reduced spontaneity, while the lack of competition bred complacency among the disc jockeys and musical conservatism among its producers.

The pirates’ influence remained predominant for many years, with the DJs continuing to play jingles and commercials (this time for other BBC programmes).

But only in the Seventies did Radio 1 really begin to gain an identity all its own, thanks mostly to an influx of new presenters and an extension in broadcast hours.

The pirate legacy was considerable. Just as the growth of teen radio in 1950s America helped fuel the rock ‘n’ roll boom, British pop music benefited enormously from the sustained exposure the pirates gave it between 1964 and 1967.

Their willingness to play any disc of good quality, their refusal to depend upon sales charts and their obsessive youth orientation all added to the interest in and diversity of pop in the UK. They also proved conclusively that demand for some kind of alternative radio existed.

At their height, both Caroline and London claimed an audience of over eight million, and advertisers first recognised radio’s potential as a promotional medium. The British record industry also realised the benefits of making more broadcasting outlets available.

Most of those who entered pirate radio in the mid-sixties — programme directors, backroom staff and financiers as well as disc jockeys — did so with the long-term aim of moving into commercial radio on land and regarded such broadcasting as a useful apprenticeship, a way to prove their ability.

They had to wait for several years (and for a new Government) before commercial radio became legal in Britain, but when it did, in 1973, the experience of the pirate years proved useful to broadcasters and backers alike.