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Friday, 20 November 2020

Was 'Radio Listowel' the pioneer of a pirate radio boom?

 

There has been much written as to the origins of the unrivalled success of the golden era of Irish pirate radio, which is generally regarded as 1978 to 1988. In 1988, new legislation paved the way for the introduction of legal commercial independent radio across Ireland. The 1926 Wireless Telegraphy Act had been exposed as toothless when it came to tackling the proliferation of pirate radio. Towns and villages across Ireland found that illegal broadcasting was easy and cheap access to the airwaves. It gave a voice to small communities, causes, and provided an avenue for advertising firms to sell advertising space to their clients and target. The era of pirate radio created an industry but it had not created the need, that was already in place across Ireland. It has been described as the period when radio added colour to a black and white society emerging from a generation whose lives were shaped by Civil War politics.

 

From January 1st 1926, the Irish State created a monopoly in radio broadcasting with the opening of 2RN later to become Radio Eireann. It was Dublin centric, with studios in the capital and it was not until the 1930’s that technology allowed them to travel outside Dublin. The apparent failure of 6CK in Cork, due mainly to financial constraints, seemed to indicate to rural Ireland that radio was broadcasting from Dublin to Dublin. Whether it was the excitement of hearing a local artist, or a local accent on the national airwaves or the sense of abandonment, very quickly the notion of a local radio station aimed at local listeners, delivering local interest programming and speaking for them not to them, began to take root.

 

In urban cityscapes, the need for an alternative was driven by a younger generation of listener seeking to hear music and less chatter. Global influences especially from the United States began to dominate infiltrate the insular attitudes of DeValera’s Ireland. The increased appeal and access to cheap transistor radios allowed amateurish, hobby radio stations with home-built transmitters to battle with the State broadcaster for listeners. But once this demand had been created, larger, professional operations began to dominate the increasingly cluttered airwaves. In rural Ireland, Radio Eireann believed it was satisfying the nation’s social, agricultural, and sporting needs but for growing younger listener outside Dublin, the national station seemed out of touch. For those listeners lucky enough to live on the Eastern side of Ireland, there was a choice of radio to be listened to as an alternative to Radio Eireann. Radio Eireann’s output was attempting the impossible, to appease all demographics across the whole country, whether you were an urban dweller or lived in rural Ireland. For the growing younger generation enjoying the explosion of new pop music including the Beatles and the Rolling Stones, access to hearing their choice of music was limited to Radio Luxembourg, Radio Caroline[1] or from 1967 BBC Radio One.

 

Radio became increasingly popular after the Second World War but Radio Eireann was still hampered by both a lack of financial support from the Government and comparisons being made to the services available from broadcasters outside the jurisdiction. Listeners liked the immediacy and intimacy of radio in their homes. From its very first broadcast, Radio Eireann was a victim of its limitations whether it was financial, technical or in content. It struggled to connect on a personal level with those outside Dublin, not helped by a lack of transmitter power until 1933 when a powerful transmitter was installed in Athlone providing coverage across Ireland.

 

The first inclination that there was a need and desire for neighbourhood radio came from the local community festivals that blossomed in the thirties. Towns and villages across Ireland created festivals, some successfully continuing up to the present day, like the Rose of Tralee Festival, to generate business for local traders and to act as the impetus for social gatherings for those living in hinterlands outside the town. The idea of a local voice was planted in the minds of Kerry locals in the 1930’s as the regional newspapers carried a weekly article, supposedly to be the transcript of broadcasts from a fictional ‘Radio Listowel’. A March 13th 1937 headline in the Kerry Champion informed reader that there was ‘Another Broadcast from the capital of North Kerry’. The use of the ‘Radio Listowel’ moniker demonstrated that the locals felt ignored and isolated from the wireless broadcasts of Radio Eireann and that somehow their village was insignificant on the airwaves. Up to the launch of the Athlone transmitter, listeners in Kerry probably had a better chance of hearing an Irish voice on a powerful east coast based US radio station rather than from Dublin. Once listeners tuned into Athlone’s transmitter carrying programmes made in Dublin, the lack of a Kerry accent, deemed by some Posts and Telegraph civil servants as not being understandable for the regular listener, infuriated the Kerry natives, as many letters to the local newspapers and radio review journals demonstrated.  

 

These articles were hugely popular not just in North Kerry but throughout the county but more importantly when locals were referring to ‘the newcomers programme’ or ‘The Children’s Hour’, they were referencing ‘Radio Listowel’ not the national station.

In one article in September 1937 ‘Radio Listowel’ wrote,

‘Listeners, I have to crave your pardon once again. Owing to telephonic communications being disrupted during the recent snowfall and owing to the fact that Radio Listowel is not long in being the main heads (headlines) are all that have arrived here. I am in a quandary now as to what to do about it. I would not wish to disappoint my unseen audience for millions, but I have no way out of it. What shall I say to you to fill the news time?

‘Wireless Pirate (butting in), ‘cannot you play them a record or something. As your news items were de-tailed or perhaps ‘beheaded’. The very thing, a gramophone recital. I shall now give my listeners a gramophone record.’

The writer continued,

‘This is Radio Listowel Hallo, everybody! Continuing our weekly programme from this station you shall now hear one of our latest "record." You must welcome the gramophone when all other sources of musical supply fail.’

 




When the author spoke of an audience in the millions[2], it illustrates an already apparent appetite for local radio and an understanding of the power of the medium. He is also demonstrating that music radio is as important as the ‘talk’ radio of Radio Eireann. When the writer references a ‘wireless pirate’, he is legitimatising illegal broadcasting as a way of delivering its message. Up to that period ‘a wireless pirate’ was usually the term attached to those who failed to purchase a radio receiving license but in this context the writer would have been aware of the illegal broadcasts that emanated from Limerick and Waterford cities in the mid-1930s. He was creating a perception that a ‘Radio Listowel’, a local voice would be important to Listowel and it would entertain and inform better than the State broadcaster.

 

There was a growing sense of them and us, between those who listened to Radio Eireann and those who were turned off by it. There was rarely a mention of Listowel on Radio Eireann and this led to a feeling of isolation and abandonment[3]. There was no immediate coverage of local news and debate, the natives relying on the weekly newspaper to bring after the fact news reports. In April 1937, the writer in referring to recent boxing results,

‘The Kerry Champion beat Radio Listowel in giving the results in the last issue. I might also add that the ‘Kerry Champion’ in its issue of the week before beat Radio Athlone by having news of an important appointment, that of the State Solicitor, first.’

The ‘Radio Listowel’ newspaper articles continued throughout World War Two and provided the belief that radio could be more than just the sound of distant rumblings.

 

The logical next step for a ‘Radio Listowel’ was more in line with the traditional sense of a radio station that we know today, with regular programming coming from a radio studio, yet the only piece of equipment not in use was a transmitter, which of course would have made it illegal. For many locals a ‘Radio Listowel’ would fulfil a growing need for the local community to be connected and to be genuinely proud of their ‘station’. This new type of ‘Radio’ service was to be delivered through a public address system. Loudspeakers were attached to telegraph poles and wired back to a studio based in the town. For Listowel this unique solution to local ‘broadcasting’ can be traced back to 1959, when the organisers of the Harvest Festival in Kerry opened their first ‘Radio Listowel’. It ‘broadcast’ through a public address system from a studio located in the home of the Kenneally family, who ran a local travel agency. Michael Kennelly was a prime organiser of the festival, that coincided with the Listowel Races, which attracted thousands of visitors to the town. Each year extra loudspeakers were added to the town’s streets, financed by local advertising which was relayed over the system. It was an immediate success and as the 1960s began, the organisers extended the ‘broadcasting hours’ outside the Harvest Festival to include Christmas, which of course allowed local businesses to advertise to the locals shopping in the town. It created a unique atmosphere as shoppers walked through the streets doing their Christmas shopping with music, requests and local businesses advertising filling the air. ‘Radio Listowel’ also went on air a couple of days before St. Patricks Day, mostly in support of the local public houses who relished the opportunity to advertise their music promotions and events.

In 1968, local newspapers proudly reported,

‘With the introduction of that unique and valuable possession called "Radio Listowel," which on many occasions relayed loving messages from parents to their children abroad, Listowel claimed the honour of being the only town in Ireland with such a permanent apparatus.’

 

Despite the fact that the station did not ‘broadcast’ and would not allow for ‘listeners’ from anywhere outside the range of the loudspeakers, locals were still delivering requests to the station’s studios to offer messages dedicated to their loved ones abroad. In the 1950’s the county was afflicted, like much of Ireland, by widespread immigration to the UK and the United States. It did not matter that these relatives would never hear the dedications directly, those who missed their absent family members heard it and these requests provided reassurance to them at least that those who had left had not been forgotten. News of that request being heard was often carried in a letter from neighbours that their names were heard on the streets of their ancestral home. It provided a glimpse of the power of radio to connect, there was a sense of connection and excitement by merely approaching the station and having a request played and even if it was only those who delivered the request, heard it, it did not detract from its importance.

 

Throughout the sixties and seventies, towns and villages across Ireland organised local festivals to create an entertainment buzz, to attract visitors and business to their festival. The organizing committees began to see value in the uniqueness of having a radio station. Once the funds were allocated for the installation of a loudspeaker system, the festival radio station was ready to go on air, creating excitement and a sense of pride in their own broadcasts, programming and hearing local voices and artistes entertaining both the locals and visitors to the town. This generated goodwill and for the businesses hopefully repeat business. No business wanted to miss the opportunity and the revenue generated by the advertising was often reinvested in expanding or upgrading the equipment. Local and regional newspapers highlighted these ‘radio’ stations and seemed at ease that some of their advertising revenue would find another outlet. The fact that these stations only lasted a short time on ‘air’ and that they were quite localized in nature, newspapers did not see them as a threat. The stations ‘broadcast’ to a town or village, while the newspapers covered a wider catchment area from a county to a province.

 




These festivals ranged from an accordion festival in Ardee, Co. Louth to the Wild Boar Festival in Kanturk, Co. Cork, from the Brown Trout festival in Ballinrobe, Co. Mayo, to numerous May Day festivals, Christmas shopping promotions and even a local Cheese promotion in Charleville, County Cork. In the early seventies numerous festivals stations like ‘Omagh Festival Radio’, Athlone’s and Carrick on Shannon’s celebration of the River Shannon, Radio Loughshinny and Kilkenny Beer festival radio were all ‘broadcast’ via a public address systems attached to poles in the town or from speakers hung outside the festival office.

 

Following on from Radio Listowel’s lead, the other great Kerry festival, Killorglin’s Puck Fair also saw the town wired with loudspeakers to bring the locals the up to date news of events in the town.

 

In August 1976, the ‘Kerryman’ newspaper reported,

"There was a chance too for the visitors to ' Killorglin to hear themselves over Radio Killorglin. This was a public address system set up throughout the town and hosted by resident D.J. Declan Mangan. People were slow to come forward at first, said Declan, "but, when they realised that they could be heard all over the town, quite a queue formed’"

 

For many towns, the loudspeakers were left in situ on the poles around the streets but they were subject to damage from the weather and it became more and more expensive to replace the speakers and the wiring as the extensions were added to cover wider areas. There was a need for a cheaper alternative to maintain the interest and the success of the wired radio stations.

 

There were many reasons for the explosion of pirate radio in Ireland in the 1970's and 1980’s. Localism as displayed by ‘Radio Listowel’ was one, another main reason was the increased younger population, the children born in the late fifties and early sixties quickly found that their musical tastes were not being catered for by the State broadcaster RTE Radio. For listeners it was also hard to listen to radio when it was not there because in the 1970’s RTE was hit by a number of workers strikes, putting both radio and television off the air. From 1970 to 1978, there had been more than a half dozen strikes that either curtained its transmissions or on two occasions blacked out both radio and television for three weeks at a time. This was particularly hard felt as there was only one radio and one television channel for those with no access to broadcasts from the UK[4].  

 

Mary Kenny writing in the Irish Press on February 2nd, 1970 articulated

‘I knew there was a strike on at R.T.E. because I found myself listening to The Jimmy Young Show on B.B.C. Radio 2 in the mornings, smiling at his chuckly quips and cuddly, presence and painstakingly taking down the abominable recipes and wishing we had something as inoffensively yet cleverly cheerful.’

The star of one of RTE television’s most popular TV shows ‘Quicksilver’, Bunny Carr, speaking at a conference in Cork in 1970 said of local radio,

‘they would be a cement that would keep local communities together by broadcasting both national news and the good local news that would not make the national headlines. Local people talking to local people on a local radio station makes very good broadcasting’[5].

For the younger generation desperate to hear some modern music, found themselves relegated to 45 minutes from Larry Gogan from 11pm, Monday to Friday and nothing at the weekends. This was yet another opening for the advance of pirate radio to deliver the content that the youth of Ireland wanted to hear. A demand created the supply. But a huge amount of credit must be delivered to the corridors of Montrose[6] itself for the growth of pirate radio. Dublin and the East Coast of Ireland was well served by overspill radio broadcasts especially from Britain’s BBC Radio 1 and Radio Luxembourg but as you travelled across the country these signals faded as did the choice for pop broadcasts. Much of rural Ireland had no other choice other than RTE Radio (previously known as 2RN) but in stepped RTE itself. Originally conceived as an attempt to illustrate their ability to deliver local radio, RTE Community Radio would launch in 1975 with Radio Liberties in the heart of Dublin, their first port of call.

 

The concept, originally credited to the then Director General of RTE George Waters, was to take a mobile studio and a transmitter to towns and villages across Ireland, teach locals how to present and produce local programmes for its limited transmission times. This would be all powered through a low powered transmitter on a frequency allocated to RTE by the European Broadcasting Union, 202m medium wave. This medium wave frequency would later be augmented by a FM outlet.

 

Towns would organise a ‘radio committee’ and invite RTE to choose their town for the arrival of the mobile station. For many years, the man tasked with being the go between with RTE and the committee was Paddy O’Neill. Paddy was born near Skibbereen in County Cork and after a brief career as a national schoolteacher he became involved in the Abbey theatre from where in 1951 he joined Radio Eireann. At the station he became a producer, one of his most influential roles as producer of the popular Din Joe’s ‘Take the Floor’. Paddy was also a greyhound enthusiastic both racing them and being involved in the organising of races. Under the alias ‘Paddy O’Brien’ he became Radio Eireann’s greyhound racing commentator later taking up the role of Chairman of Bord na gCon in 1983.

 

Paddy’s role with advancing community radio meant that he travelled Ireland to make initial contact with the radio committees, offer advice, training, and technical know-how. The interest created in these towns and villages showed that there was a demand for a local voice on the airwaves. The committees did not always run smoothly as in 1991 when the Ballina Community Radio Committee was branded 'a snob job' by the Urban Council Chairman, Gerry Moore who led a high-powered campaign to have the Committee broadened to one representing all the people of Ballina. When the Committee input into the Local Radio experiment, planned for Mayo during June, was set-up, the Urban Council, Trades Council, and many other leading community groups were "snubbed", said Cllr. Moore.

 

For younger people in these rural areas, they were often excluded from these daily four-hour broadcasts and there was certainly rarely room for modern music or local recording artists. In 1978 the service was advertised as ‘carrying programmes that will go out on the medium wave and items dealing with matters of health, sport, history, music/drama, education, art, agriculture, planning and development, family finance, youth, poetry/essays, Irish, quiz, as well as news, will be covered’ no music for the youth of the community. They wanted to be involved, they wanted to hear their voices, their concerns and their music and while the ‘community radio committees’ set about organising for the arrival of RTE’s mobile unit, the more astute set out to piggy back on the interest created by the arrival.

 

It was perhaps apt that in May 1975, the Listowel Festival became only the second location for RTE’s 
new mobile radio station after the Liberties in Dublin. It broadcast on 202m medium wave and
 96.6mhz FM twice daily, from 12.30pm to 2pm and 6 to 7 pm in the evening. 
Radio Listowel or Raidio Phobail LiostaĆ­ as it was known had travelled the journey 
from a newspaper article to a wired loudspeaker system to its ultimate goal of becoming an
 actual radio station serving the listeners of this small Kerry town[7]. 

 

 Due both to demand and financial constraints, the RTE mobile service rarely visited a location more than once. This left festivals in a quandary, as the success of ‘local’ radio was evident once RTE had moved on. From the mid-seventies. Festival committees, seeing the success of the previous year’s broadcasts, set up a transmitter and began to broadcast themselves. These micro stations included Radio Ceilteach in Falcarragh and Radio Letterkenny Folk Festival both in Donegal. To cultivate that sense of importance of a local radio station, the use of a fictional ‘Radio Letterkenny’ during the popular pantomime ‘Dick Whittington’ staged during the 1955 festive season was talked about long after the staging ended[8]. Letterkenny was similar to Listowel as they installed a public address system to ‘broadcast’ Radio Letterkenny. The Donegal News reported in 1974,

 

‘During the Festival an innovation was Radio Letterkenny, with interviews, requests and records played over a public address system from the Festival Office at Upper Main Street. This was arranged by committee member. Alex O'Donnell, and in charge was D.J. Niall Anthony with Joe Deehan interviewing people along the street.’

The Donegal Democrat in the weeks after the festival signalled some of the flaws in limiting transmissions to a wire and loudspeaker system. They reported,

‘Radio Letterkenny played a big part during the recent Folk Festival, even if at times there were flashes over the ether that could well have done with a bit of editing.’

The success of the public address system during the festival was replicated for the following Christmas season,

‘And the Chamber hopes to introduce special Christmas street music. This will be operated from Mr. Noel Crossan’s premises at Upper Main Street and be largely on the system operated by the Festival Radio Letterkenny in August. It will run from 2 until 5pm daily.[9]

The following year, Radio Letterkenny ‘broadcast’ from studios located at ‘The Sound of Music’ record shop on the Market Square with the newspapers reporting that the business owner Mrs. May Herrity would act as the station disc jockey. In 1979, RTE’s mobile service arrived in Letterkenny and removed the necessity for the loudspeaker broadcasts. It was a tremendous success but in 1980, despite an invitation from the organising committee, the mobile service was unable to return to the Letterkenny festival. Instead of a loudspeaker system or a visit from RTE, Radio Letterkenny for the Folk Festival went on air with a pirate transmitter broadcasting on 192m medium wave. Unlike RTE, who departed the town once the festival had finished, the pirate Radio Letterkenny remained on air to entertain and inform the residents of the Donegal village. By 1981, Radio Letterkenny had moved on from being just a festival radio station when it was reported,

‘Letterkenny Local Radio, which has been on the air since November last, is now extending its range from 4 miles to 12 miles on 252 Medium wave. They will be on the air from 9 a.m. to 6 p.m. from next week, not the usual 12 noon to 6 p.m., and hope to expand their range to Derry very shortly. At the moment local radio can be received on the South side of Derry on a mains radio with aerials. As the station has no telephone as yet they have request boxes in Fitzgerald’s Music Centre and hope that anyone with a request will avail of these.[10]

 

Radio Charleville in County Cork was originally a location for a RTE mobile visit but when RTE were unable to commit to a secondary visit, in subsequent years the local committee received the assistance of the pirate radio station Big D Radio in Dublin to go on air but in order to perhaps avoid scrutiny from the Department of Posts and Telegraphs as they operated without a license, in 1978 the ‘committee pointed out that this is festival radio not a pirate radio.’

 




 In numerous towns, an official radio committee was formed to coordinate the mobile service with RTE, but there was also an ‘unofficial radio committee’ working in the background. Transmitters were procured, equipment sourced and DJ’s readied. In many towns and villages, they waited patiently for the RTE van to arrive, do their thing and leave. Then within hours or days of that departure the new pirate transmitter was turned on, often on a frequency not far from RTE’s 202m location so that listeners could easily find them. Financial considerations also played a vital role in the creation of a pirate alternative to RTE’s mobile service. Despite its ability to carry advertisements in its first couple of years, the RTE’s Community Radio service carried no ads, it was funded by local donations and business subscriptions, pirate radio would not have the same constraints and the commercialism of radio would make money for those organising the swash buckling operations to the detriment of revenue generation for Montrose. RTE had created a monster.

 

Some of the pirate stations that found their way onto to air once RTE departed, having created that desire and need for a local voice on the airwaves included Claremorris Ham Fair Radio on 199m which was located in the town’s Imperial Hotel. The station broadcast for the duration of the local Ham Fair and was operated by Gerry Delaney, who would later be involved in the pirate station Atlantic Radio. The Claremorris Ham Fair was launched in 1970 and to promote the event Radio Claremorris went on air broadcasting in the morning for two hours and in the evening for a further two hours initially using a loudspeaker system in the town. In 1977 RTE’s mobile radio service took up the baton and broadcast for the festival with more modern studio and technology but when they could not commit to returning to promote the ever expanding festival, the pirate radio station was set up. 

 

 

In September 1978, RTE mobile service visited the County Cork town of Fermoy for a week of Community Radio Fermoy. Shortly after the mobile unit had moved onto another location, the appetite for radio in the town was ignited. Some locals including Jim Byrne and Oliver Tobin purchased a transmitter for £300 and initially from a location above a pub on McCurtain Street Fermoy Radio was on the air broadcasting on 208m medium wave. After six months the station moved to Fred Daly’s house on St James Place. It was an instant success, staying on air every day from 8am to 6pm. After three years on air, Fred Daly received a notice from the council to close the station and after seeking legal advice Fermoy Radio closed.

 

Big M broadcasting on 217mMW was set up with the assistance of Don Moore from ARD in Dublin. Located above a man’s shop on Castle Street, the station began broadcasting on November 23rd 1978. On that first broadcast, the station who was located in an upstairs room, dropped a microphone out the window on a long lead, so that locals on the street could be interviewed. One of the primary backers of the station was the then Senator and music promoter Donnie Cassidy. He was assisted by local man Paddy Fagan. The station closed in the early eighties. Once again thanks to the interest created by the RTE mobile station that was in the town in October, the pirate radio operation quickly followed

 



Another station illustrating that this was affecting communities across Ireland was Radio Carrick on 198m medium wave. In April 1980, RTE’s mobile station had spent five days in the town of Carrick-on-Suir and it created a buzz in the town that Gerry Gannon would tap into, and Radio Carrick went on the air on August 1st 1980. The Munster Express newspaper reported in May,

‘To add further to the unqualified praise and congratulations which have been so deservedly showered upon Community Radio Carrick. which enthralled the people of the town and district in the week from Wednesday 30th April to Tuesday 6th May, would be to gild the lily. Suffice to say that organisers, presenters, participants and others who contributed in any way came up trumps to prove once more the wealth of talent and organisation with which this town abounds.’

RTE had created the need, and pirate radio had satisfied it. In August, the same newspaper was reporting on the new pirate station. It said,

‘Since Radio Carrick (199 metres, medium wave), came on the air two weeks ago, it has built a wide audience and deservedly so for it is professionally organised and presented. Congratulations and best wishes to all involved, notably G. G[11]. and may they continue to entertain and enlighten us for many years ahead in their daily 12. a.m. to 6 p.m. broadcasts.’

The RTE production unit and staff had provided the training for the new breed of broadcaster. They proved that there was a desire for local broadcasting with local news and voices and the pirate station also pushed out the boundaries of broadcasting from the two, two hour slots of RTE to a continuous six hours seven days a week providing continuity of content.

 

In Tipperary, Radio Thurles on 230m was slightly different but its arrival was caused by the interest generated at a community meeting in the town when it was decided to approach RTE to visit the town with their community stations. The small low powered station opened in 1978. The Radio Thurles studios were in an abandoned building attached to a castle ruins in the town and to rub salt into a wound, the station hijacked the station title Community Radio Thurles when they heard that RTE’s mobile service would be in the town in October 1979 forcing RTE to title itself Thurles Community Radio.

 

Having opened the possibility of community local radio, RTE opened further opportunities in 1979 when it was reported in the Connacht Sentinel that the local stations would no longer be taking advertising thus denying local businesses and avenue to promote their products and services. The newspaper wrote,

‘Galway's Community Radio, R.T.E.'s answer to local radio stations, begins broadcasting next week and will score a notable first in the history of radio broadcasting in Ireland. For it was revealed yesterday that the Community Radio, which will broadcast daily at 11.30 a.m. from May 7th to 12th, will be the first non-commercial radio in the history of the state - with absolutely no advertisements during broadcasting hours. And the lack of advertisements from the broadcasting timetable means that RTE will lose a considerable amount of revenue, last year the advertising revenue on Galway Community Radio realised £3,000, a sum which went a considerable way towards offsetting the not inconsiderable cost of putting Community Radio on. The Reason for the ad free broadcasts is that the advertising and sales department of RTE do not have the staff available to canvass for advertisements locally in Galway. Yesterday the P.R.O. for the Community Radio, Mr. Ray Raftery, said that the committee was 'absolutely delighted' with RTE's decision as it meant an extra 24 minutes per day broadcasting time. Said Mr. Raftery: 'While one appreciates that RTE have the right to recoup some of their costs through advertising, the decision not to broadcast ads means that we have more broadcasting time available to us.

'We rang RTE recently to clarify the situation with advertisements and we were told that the Radio would not be carrying ads as the sales and advertising department were too busy with the new RTE 2 radio and just could not spare the personnel to canvass for advertisements locally in Galway.'

The provision of the Community Radio service is seen by many to be the first step in what is likely to be a long drawn out battle between RTE and Galway's local Pirate Radio, Independent Radio Galway in the battle for listeners in the city. A recent survey undertaken by the Commerce Department at UCG which was printed in 'Irish  Business' magazine, estimated that 86% of the population of the city listened to Independent Radio Galway, over 90% of whom felt that the pirates should be given a licence to operate legally. Meanwhile, a spokesman for the Pirates said yesterday that I.R.G. would be closing down during the Community Radio's broadcasting hours and would advise its listeners to tune in to the Community Radio. Said the spokesman: 'The reason we began in the first place was that we felt there was a crying need for a local radio in Galway. We felt that RTE were falling down on the job by not providing such a service so we decided to go ahead ourselves. 'While we feel that a week during the year is no answer to the problem we nonetheless don't see the point in the two stations competing with one another so we decided to 'cry off during the Community Radio airtime'. [12]

 

RTE’s mobile service had first visited Galway in 1977 and received widespread local newspaper coverage as ‘Radio Galway’ took to the airwaves. The following year, the pirates were broadcasting to the western city and to illustrate the marked difference between what the State broadcaster was delivering and that of the illegal broadcaster, the pirate was known as Independent Radio Galway.

 

The powerlessness of RTE to satisfy all their listeners demands was outside much of their control but because of this, sectors of Irish society adopted pirate radio as a means to achieve their goals and further causes. While the main driver of the success of pirate radio and the success of the so-called super pirates was the broadcasting of pop/chart music, niche and cause orientated pirate stations replaced delivery from the national broadcaster.  In 1970, Saor Raidio Chonnemara was set up in Galway to challenge the authorities to set up a dedicated Irish language radio station, campaigners believing that RTE failed to broadcast enough of the native tongue. In 1972, Raidio Na Gaeltachta was officially launched in the Gaeltacht. This did not satisfy some campaigners especially in Dublin who set up pirate station Radio na Phobail, to demand an Irish language station for the capital. Other pirate stations launched to fill the gaps left by RTE including local and community stations across the country, religious broadcasters like the Irish Christian Broadcasting Service (ICBS), country and western stations including TTTR[13], rock stations like Capital Radio who provided to the then up and coming U2, easy listening like KLAS, local news and even created a new genre with the broadcasting of death notices that began on Radio Luimni in Limerick.

 



Pirate radio created employment, a renewed enjoyment of the medium of radio, encouraged participation from the general public, gave voice to minorities, encouraged diversity including accent diversity, provided access to the airwaves and to training, provided platforms for artists to achieve global success, it gave businesses an opportunity to succeed with B2C advertising streams and paved the way for the current radio landscape in Ireland.

 

Initially it was the lack of financial resources that prevented Radio Eireann addressing a nationwide audience but because the station was seen as insular to Dublin, local rural committees created a voice and then found the means of connecting with their audience. Local radio created a sense of local pride. By building their own station, it allowed access to the airwaves for local residents and advertisers. A pub in Listowel would find little benefit in advertising on Radio Eireann but by narrowing that reach to Listowel, an advertisement on Radio Listowel was vitally important. It was also important for every pub not to be outdone by another and each publican ensured that they had a radio ad on air in attempt to attract customers. Locals saw the benefit in having a ‘radio station’ and it gave them a sense of power and they had felt abandoned by the national broadcaster. It was never a realistic prospect that RTE could cater for the needs of every town and village wishing to broadcast.  The radio committees believed that the use of a transmitter would deem a station illegal and generate negative press publicity for the festival if it was raided by the authorities. They employed a unique solution to get their station on air.

 

It was however a step backwards if you consider that wireless telegraphy replaced overland telegraph lines but now at these festivals the wireless radio broadcasts were replaced by wired or cabled broadcasts to a town. Just as access to radio receivers had become cheaper and portable, the means of broadcasting, a transmitter also became cheaper to make and it become mobile forcing the authorities into a game of cat and mouse to close the local pirates. This once again replaced the wired broadcasts with wireless broadcasts. There were huge local benefits in genuine local community radio. The inability for RTE to cater for that local desire for access to the airwaves, reducing that to the occasional visit of a short-term mobile service, created the demand. Pirate radio eventually fulfilled that demand with supply and it became the first building blocks to the radio industry that was created by the 1988 new broadcasting landscape.  


[1] Traditionally associated with the North Sea but Caroline had a secondary ship anchored off the Isle of Man from 1965 – 68 which proved extremely popular.

[2] The paper had a circulation of approx. 5,000, being sold both in Kerry and to a wider Kerry diaspora

[3] The Kerryman Newspaper

[4] Via an outdoor aerial.

[5] The Evening Echo September 11th 1971

[6] The location of RTE’s broadcasting studios located near Donnybrook in Dublin 4.

[7] 2016 Population 4,820

[8] The Donegal News January 14th 1956

[9] Donegal News December 7th 1974

[10] Donegal Democrat February 20th 1981

[11] Gerry Gannon

[12] ‘A Century of Irish Radio 1900 – 2000’

[13] Tallaght, Templeogue, Ternure Radio, announced on air as Treble TR and broadcast 1981 - 1988

Tuesday, 17 November 2020

'The Thing' from Cork, Dutch Pirate TV and the Irish Taoiseach

 

In the early morning hours of December 17th 1964, Dutch armed police boarded three military naval helicopters at Valkenburg airbase north of Den Haag and headed off out into the North Sea. As the three flew in formation, a naval ship, the ‘Delftshaven’ was already on route from the mainland to rendezvous with the airborne assault. At 8.55am, the ship was anchored two hundred yards from its target, five minutes later the three helicopters reached their target, hovering briefly. The door swung open admitting a strong gust. The first of the armed men abseiled down onto the deck below. Two men now secured the helipad and the other helicopters moved in to offload their forces onto the platform. Once secure, the naval vessel moved in and more armed military boarded together with representatives of the judiciary. The operation was swift and flawless and within thirty minutes, the Dutch authorities were in full control of the REM Island.

 

In the offices Department of Industry and Commerce on Kildare Street, Dublin, the Minister, Cork born Jack Lynch contemplated writing to his colleague at the Department of Posts and Telegraphs, Michael Hyland. He wanted to suggest to his cabinet colleague, the awarding of a temporary license for broadcast transmitting equipment be awarded to Verolme shipyard in Cork, to avoid them breaking the 1926 Wireless Telegraphy Act. No citizen or organisation had been granted such a license since the foundation of the State and the creation of Radio Telifis Eireann, the State broadcaster. This was a delicate matter, with hundreds of thousands of pounds of State aid to the shipyard, a major employer in Cork, on the line. To compound matters, massive press publicity and questions in Parliament would cause the Minister to feel the heat.

 

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As these events unfolded across Europe, in Cork, Felix Muroz, a native of Corunna, Northern Spain was still recovering from the injuries he received on May 16th at the Verolme dockyard. His cries of ‘Mio Dios’ (My God) were immediately answered by Cobh Catholic priest St. John Thornhill[1], who offered spiritual and physical comfort to the injured man as he lay on the docks waiting for an ambulance to take him to St. Finbarr’s hospital. With the cries of the Spanish born crew member of the Global Adventurer still ringing in their ears, the workers at Verolme Dockyard at Rushbrooke, on June first were happy to see ‘the thing’ depart from their shores heading out into the Atlantic and onwards towards the North Sea.

 

‘The Thing’ was the nickname given by the workers to a secret project undertaken by the Verolme Dockyard. The dockyard had been purchased by Dutch shipbuilder Cornelius Verolme in 1959 and had won contracts around the world to build fleets of vessels including Irish naval vessels. Work on creating the dockyard was begun by Joseph Wheeler in 1854 and it was officially opened in 1860. After changing ownership numerous times, with the outbreak of the Second World War in 1939 it passed into the hands of the State shipping company Irish Shipping Limited. It was reasonably successful and so it attracted investors and as Ireland began to industrialize, International investment was encouraged with financial incentives. In 1959 Cornelis Verolme bought the shipyard. Ship building stopped in 1984, but repairs continued for some years after.


 So how did a Dutch shipbuilder create this pirate television sensation in 1964, just two years after the launch of an Irish TV channel on December 31st 1961 with the launch of RTE Television? Cornelis Verolme sets up his first company ‘Scheepsinstallatiebedrijf Nederland N.V.’ in 1946 and subsequently took over two shipyards, one in Alblasserdam in 1950 and another in Heusden in 1953. The demand for ever-larger ships led Verolme to decide to start operating in this segment too. That called for a new yard, preferably in deep water, close to the sea. In 1956 Cornelis Verolme started the construction of the yard on the New Waterway in Rotterdam. Expanding to Ireland in 1959 and later to places like Brazil

 

Cornelis Verolme 

In an era when Ireland was emerging under the leadership of Sean Lemass and his Fianna Fail government from its insular agricultural based economy into a diverse manufacturing, exporting economy, Verolme was a major employer and leader in Ireland’s drive to attract foreign investment. In order to give it an advantage when competing for contracts from places like Poland and Liberia, the Irish Government provided grants to the company to allow it to compete on a financial front with shipbuilders in the UK. In June the company received £350,000 in subsidies to keep it competitive. For the relevant Minister, Jack Lynch [2]it was an important employer in his native City and it was providing a step on the ladder to the top job as Taoiseach, which he ascended to in 1966. According to Dermot Keogh in his biography ‘Jack Lynch, A Biography’

 

‘Lynch took a mild view of what were deemed ‘technical offences’ committed in Ireland by Verolme. The Department of Posts and Telegraphs complained in 1964 that Verolme was reporting to be providing offshore platforms for pirate radio and television operations. Enquiries established that the Secretary of Verolme Cork Dockyard Limited has confirmed that the company was making drilling rigs. Multi-purpose equipment of that kind could be used for anything, Verolme had no knowledge of intentions to use the product for pirate television. The Department of Posts and Telegraphs proposed to take action against the company over the alleged possession of an illegal wireless transmitting apparatus imported by Verolme and intended for use in a floating platform that would constitute a pirate television station.’

Lynch’s Ministry of Industry and Commerce took the view that,

‘even if there has been a technical offence, it does not appear that punitive action by the Post Office would be warranted, having regard that the apparatus would not be used in this country.’

 

The Department of Posts and Telegraphs in a memorandum to Government said,

‘The Minister for Posts and Telegraphs has been informed that the offshore structure being built at Rushbrooke is now almost complete and that is it not intended to install transmitting equipment on it while it is this country. No particular action is therefore proposed in this case’.

 

The Government were fully aware of the intention of the platform to house an illegal broadcasting station but decided to turn a blind eye to it as it did not affect Irish broadcasting and there seemed to be no intention to broadcast to or from Ireland. Very little consideration was given to the wishes of the Government in the Netherlands.

Verolme pictured with Taoiseach Sean Lemass at the Cork Dockyard

 Verolme workers were seemingly unaware of intentions to use the platform for pirate television when the build began in early 1964. The staff were also kept in the dark as to what they were building, which would resemble an oil rig platform, hence their description of the platform as ‘the thing’. What was ‘the thing’?

 

‘The Thing’ would resemble an oil drilling rig but it would be far from oil it intended to mine. Its financial viability would depend on advertising revenue. Once moored, it would act as an offshore artificial island. The island contained living quarters, a canteen, a fuel storage area and a helicopter deck. In total it measured 80 ft by 40 ft., fitted with a 250-ft transmission tower. The accommodation would have room for thirteen men and two women who would be on board to man both the radio and television stations. The newspapers reported that the building and transporting of the island would cost the investors a quarter of a million pounds. The structure had four periscope legs have been driven into the seabed filled with concrete. The location was outside Holland’s three-mile territory limit and therefore in International waters and exempt from Holland’s broadcastings laws.

 


The original idea of broadcasting from an artificial platform belonged to one Will Hordijk from The Hague. In 1963 he teamed up with Cornelis Verolme, who owned the Cork shipyard, and Pieter Heerema, a shipping entrepreneur from Scheveningen who saw the construction of a TV island as useful practice for his real work: the building of oil platforms, from which he was later to make his fortune. Financing was provided by banking house Texeira de Mattos. The name REM stood for Reclame Exploitatie Maatschappij (Advertising Exploitation Company).


The group behind the plan wanted to expose the staid Dutch television landscape that was controlled by the State and devoid of advertising, similar to the BBC today. An R.C.A. transmitter was purchased in the United States and shipped initially to Ireland which would have a radius of about 50 miles, an area which includes roughly a third and most prosperous part of Holland's 12 million population, including Amsterdam, Den Haag and the Hague.

 

The group behind the venture were a diverse group of planners and businessmen that ranged from a former SS Nazi officer to a Jewish banking institution, a ship builder regarded as a ‘bluffer’ and a later to be jailed financier. The main backer for the project was Cornelius Verolme and it would be his involvement with Cork and the Irish Government that would pave the way for the illegal broadcaster to challenge the resolve of the Dutch Government.

 

The Irish Government were turning a blind eye to pirate operators, as long as they were intended to broadcast in other jurisdictions. On St Patrick's Day, the Irish Independent carried a story under the heading ‘Irishmen make television island for Dutch pirates’. After a veil of secrecy had been drawn over the building work, a spokesman at the Dockyard was now able to say ‘that the dockyard were satisfied that the steel structure was for a marine TV station. The dockyard was recycling some of the grant aid from the Irish Government to build the pirate television platform. This was also at a time when Ireland had launched their bid to join the European union and their laissez-faire attitude to the illegal operations did not go unnoticed on the Continent.  On May 19th, the Connacht Sentinel raised many of questions that were bubbling under the surface. Their correspondent wrote,

‘It might be worth a question, or two, in the Dail, as to where the money for this construction originated. Was there any Irish subsidy involved by accident or design  in the project?’

One could imagine how angry our Government would be if a pirate television or radio ship were to perch at the Kish and proceed to outdo Radio and Telifis Eireann.’

 

The news that ‘a pirate television platform’ was being built in Cork was front page news, this despite the workers not being told exactly what they were building and nicknaming it ‘The Thing’. The building of this platform was a departure from traditional shipbuilding that had been the mainstay of the business in Cork. The story of its build and subsequent departure generated many column inches, even at one stage, Verolme telling spectators where the best vantage points were around the harbour to watch the platforms departure.

‘Dockyard officials stressed today that the best view of the island will be gained from the Monkstown shore and that it will be difficult to see anything from the Rushbrooke side. They also said that it would not be anything dramatic as say the launching of a ship. It will be rather like lifting a box of wooden crates onto a lorry said a spokesman.’[3]

Lynch seemed to maintain later that the Irish Government, including his Department had no idea that the platform being built at Verolme was to be used as a site for an illegal broadcasting station. Unfortunately for Lynch and Lemass’s Government, Ireland was gaining a track record in the field of providing facilities for the creation of pirate operations that would target Britain and the greater European community, this coming at a time when the campaign for Ireland to join the European Economic Community was gathering pace. In March 1964, Radio Caroline and Radio Atlantis were both fitted out as off shore pirate radio stations in the County Louth port of Greenore near the Northern Ireland border. Greenore was a privately operated port owned by Caroline founder Ronan O’Rahilly’s father. The Verolme dockyard was by 1964 in receipt of hundreds of thousands of pounds in grant money from the Irish Government. This ‘free’ money no doubt gave the shipyard an opportunity to pursue diverse projects. The grants however by mid 1964 were causing unease for the Government as it emerged that there seemed to be a game of ‘find the pea’ with some of the grants provided to the company.


 Mr. James Dillon, the Fine Gael leader of the opposition said he had seen in the Press that the dockyard " in the face of intense and fierce competition," had secured a contract to build a 30,000-ton ship. The order was placed by the Netherlands Freight and Tanker Co., Ltd., of The Hague, and the chairman of that company was Mr. Verolme. We can all picture the pretty picture of Mr. Verolme pleading and wrestling with himself to decide on placing this contract. "About three weeks before this vessel was completed the Minister for Industry and Commerce, Jack Lynch announced that he proposed to give Mr. Verolme a subsidy of £350.000 to enable Mr. Verolme to meet the contract price on foot of the agreement. which had been made between Mr. Verolme and himself." Then a remarkable development took place. said Mr. Dillon. The ship was sold to a firm in Amsterdam. "It has been assumed that it was not less than one million pounds sterling.' Another ship was now in hands, for which he understood they were to provide another £350.000 subsidy. This time the ship was being built for the Liberian National Shipping Line, of which Mr. Verolme owned 25 pc of the capital. (Belfast Telegraph June 17th 1964)

 

In response to the allegations made in the Dail against the Dutch shipbuilding company were rejected as "only partially true and a complete misrepresentation of the facts" by Verolme Vice-President, Dr. Henrik J. Hofstra, a former Netherlands Finance Minister. According to a debate in the Dail in May 1964, the previous year Verolme had been granted free aid of £900,000[4].

 

In November 1963 future Irish Taoiseach Garret Fitzgerald wrote in the Irish Farmers Journal,

‘the Verolme shipyard was launched at Cobh the Taoiseach told the Dail that Mr. Verolme was prepared to invest £5-6 million himself, and only required an assurance that if there were difficulties about the export of capital from Holland, it could be made available from Irish sources. For four years after that, the Government refused to disclose how much Mr Verolme had in fact invested in this project until in July they came to the Dail to say that Mr. Verolme had invested £687,000 in the project, that the Industrial Credit Co. had lent almost three time this figure, £1,825,000 and that the Government had given a grant of £550,000 of which £400,000 was to be used to pay back part of the Industrial Credit loan, (a very dubious use of the Industrial Grants Act machinery).

But despite the manner in which the Irish Government had financed Mr. Verolme's project, the shipyard was losing money at such a rate that it could be kept going, said the Minister for Industry and Commerce, only if the Dail provided a subsidy of £1,220,000 to help the company to recoup its running costs, a procedure which has not previously been employed to help any Irish company that got into difficulties.’

 

Writing in 1995 in Trouw.nl, Willem Breedveld wrote,

‘The Dutch Berlusconi’s wanted to seize the power of TV in the Netherlands in 1964. Shipbuilder and bluffer Cornelis Verolme, the obscure financier J.H. Fehmers (who later was jailed for malpractice) and former bunker builder PS Heerema opened a commercial TV station with the heartfelt support of the Telegraaf, which successfully started its broadcasts from an oil rig in front of the coast at Zandvoort. The vast majority of the people thought it was beautiful and even turned out to be willing to buy REM shares, which later turned out to be worth nothing.’

 

On the front page of the Cork Examiner on Thursday May 14th under the headline ‘The Most unusual Ship Will Take Away TV Island’, they reported on the Global Adventurer’s departure from Rotterdam,

‘M.V. Global Adventurer , mounting the biggest floating crane in the world, left Rotterdam at 4 p.m. on Tuesday, bound for Cork, according to a message from Amsterdam yesterday’

 


Building the infrastructure in Cork was one part of the equation, transporting it to the North Sea was another. To achieve that goal Pieter Heerema's Global Adventurer vessel, the first ship in the world to be converted into a crane vessel with a lifting capacity of 300 tons arrived in Cork, creating a mini sensation. Originally a Norwegian oil tanker the Sunnaas, it was converted at the Verolme dockyard in Rotterdam to assist in the oil rig deployment industry.
 On May 14th, the Global Adventurer arrived in Cork and it made front page news in the Cork newspapers including the Evening Echo. It was positioned by the quayside near the dry dock and loading of ‘the thing’ began. On Saturday morning as part of the living quarters was being loaded on board, the crane creaked and cracked and broke as it lifted a 160 ton section on board.[5] It crashed to the deck of the ship injuring Munoz, a married man with two children. Because of the news worthiness of both the plan to broadcast and the originality of the Global Adventurer being in harbour, the press photographers were there to capture the events as they unfolded, including a photograph of Father Thornhill tending to Munoz as they awaited the ambulance. His main injuries were to his back and suffering from shock. The front page of the Evening Echo told their readers ‘Dockyard Scenes of Chaos as ‘The Thing’ Crashes Down On Ship’.

 


The Evening Echo had a reporter quayside and he delivered an eye-witness account. The paper reported,

‘An "Evening Echo" reporter was ten yards from 'where'  the top of the giant crane, the largest floating crane in the world with a maximum lift of nearly 300 tons, sliced into the wharf on the port side of the Global Adventurer.

This is his eye-witness's account: '" l hope I may never nave to relieve the seconds of panic as I ran frantically from the crushing weight of the huge upper portion of the broken jib of the crane, the lashing cables and the flying metal.

"Some ten yards from where I had been sitting, watching an interesting but routine lift of the superstructure of the TV island, was a gaping hole.

" The head of the crane had driven in several feet into the wharf on. the port side of the ship, slicing through a steel plate as though it was tissue paper." Minutes before the crash, an " Evening Echo " photographer and a TV cameraman had climbed on deck.

The loading superintendent, Mr. Jenkins, was directing operations on a telephone system, while crew members waited to guide " The Thing" into its cradle.

" It was poised some fifteen feet above the steel members of the cradle. Then suddenly there was a grinding noise as the crane snapped, a sickening crash as the 160-ton upper structure of the TV. Island crunched into the ship just fore of midships. Then pandemonium.

"Deckhands scampered to avoid the falling debris, and I saw the TV. cameraman running frantically aft. All this happened in a split second. I remained frozen in horror.

"Then I was running, jumping over obstacles, and as I ran, I could hear the screams of an injured seaman.

"It seemed unbelievable that nobody had died, and that when the seaman was taken ashore, he could raise his thumb in weak greeting to me."

The Evening Echo provided a running commentary on their front pages for days. They reported on the Global Adventurer’s arrival in Cork before it had berthed quayside that,

‘An "Echo" reporter also learned from Amsterdam this morning that the Dutch people are taking an intense interest in the events in Cork Harbour, and keenly awaiting news of the departure of "The Thing" for the waters off their shores.’


The following day the Echo reported

‘The clang that rang out in the dockyard when ‘The Thing’ fell on the deck of the Global Adventurer in Cork Harbour today will have international echoing. Since it became known that the platform under construction at Rushbrooke was for a Dutch pirate TV station, the eyes of the world, particularly the querying eyes of television were on the situation.’

 

Cork and especially the Echo, seemed to be at the forefront of the great pirate debate that was now unfolding across Europe. It should be remembered that Ireland was already making headlines in the offshore pirate world when earlier that year two ships were fitted out in Greenore port in County Louth including the famous Radio Caroline.

 

The ship left Cork on the Sunday with part of the platform and a broken crane departed Cork and headed firstly to Southampton to unload the partial construction on board and then travelled across the North Sea to Rotterdam to the Verolme Shipyard to have the crane repaired. Once repaired it returned to Cork, greeted by large crowds and an excited Irish press corps.

 

The accident had been a serious setback for the operation. Mr. A. Hareeme, manager of the Global Offshore Construction Co., the firm engaged to erect the station off the Dutch coast, arrived at Cork Airport by charter plane to inspect the damage.

 

Every step of the Global Adventurer journey was reported in the press. It had arrived in Southampton[6], it arrived in Rotterdam[7], It has left Rotterdam[8], it arrives in Cork tomorrow[9] and then on Monday June 1st, having worked into the small hours of the morning, the ship with its cargo on board slipped away from the dock but as it moved into the harbour heading out to sea, it anchored as a weather front moved in and it was deemed unsafe with its precious cargo on board to continue its journey. The Examiner deeming that the jinx had struck again. The next day the ship began its journey to the North Sea. While moored in Cork, some of the crew visited their colleague in St. Finbarr’s Hospital, checking on his welfare and delivering presents from family and friends. The vessel and its crew also found itself stuck in the middle of lightening unofficial strikes which affected the local tugs and pilots in the harbour. It was one of the few ships to get away from the port that day.


Within two days, the ship was off the Dutch coast and construction began on the artificial island. The legs were lowered into the sea and filled with concrete anchoring it to the seabed eleven miles off the coast. With the legs in place, the platform was completed by June 5th and over the next couple of weeks, the radio and television transmitters were installed, the aerial erected, studios built and it was ready to test. 


On May 26th 1964, the Irish Press had reported,

‘The company setting up the station, R.E.M., has given some details of the type of programme to be transmitted. Four British Incorporated TV serials have been booked, Robin Hood, William Tell, The Saint and The Invisible Man. British, U.S. and continental films will also be shown.

A spokesman for R.E.M. claimed that the available advertising time had been fully booked from September 1, when the service is due to start, until the end of January, 1965.’

 

Meanwhile on the same day May 26th, the building of the platform for an illegal broadcasting operation was becoming a political issue in Ireland with questions were directed at the Minister Lynch in the Irish parliament, Dail Eireann. Mr Sweetman TD asked the Minister in a debate of the ‘Construction of Pirate TV Station whether any subsidy was paid or payable, directly or indirectly for the pirate TV station constructed in Cork. Lynch’s curt reply was,

‘If the deputy’s question relates to the offshore structure recently completed by the Verolme Cork Dockyard Limited, the answer is in the negative.’

 

On 29 July 1964, the first radio test transmission was made from REM Island on 1400 kHz mediumwave. The transmitter power was 15 kW. This was followed by the start of TV tests on 13 August, and the official opening of TV Noordzee on 1 September. Special antennas had to be purchased to receive the broadcasts on VHF Channel 11, but the Dutch public were very enthusiastic, and by October 1964 audience surveys showed that TV Noordzee had 2 million viewers every night. The TV and radio broadcasts were not made concurrently. Radio Noordzee operated between 9am and 6.15 pm, and 15 minutes later the TV station signed on.

From the Dutch Newspaper Archives

The Dutch authorities moved quickly to put a stop to the broadcasts from the Irish built platform. They had up until now tolerated the radio broadcasts from the offshore ship housing Radio Veronica but broadcasting commercial television would not be tolerated. Using European laws, they rushed legislation through the Dutch parliament that rather than outlawing the broadcasts from the REM, they increased the territorial claim on continental shelf at the bottom of the ocean to include the area where the legs of the platform were concreted down. This technically made the broadcasts inside Dutch territory and therefore illegal. To counteract the authorities moves, the operators announced that its TV operations had been sold to a British company, High Seas Television. One Eric Bent from Weybridge, Surrey was named as the new owner, having paid just £100 for their purchase. TV Noordzee made its last transmission on 14 December 1964. Ownership of REM Island itself was transferred to a Panamanian company in the hope that this would raise international issues  if the authorities attempted to seize the platform. Radio Noordzee meanwhile continued broadcasting on board, but on the morning of 17th December 1964, it was all about to change.


 There was increased activity seen around the platform early on the morning of the seventeenth. Over the previous couple of days, there had been an increase in the number of Dutch military aircraft overflies spying on the structure. Just before eight a.m., a flotilla of ships began to circle the base of the platform. At eight, three helicopters arrived over the horizon. The first helicopter moved in over the platform and dropped a smoke bomb onto the helipad area and as that aircraft moved off another swept in and Marine Captain Eric Gerritsen was the first to be winched down onto the platform, followed by more marines. Once the upper deck was secured and there was no opposition from the crew on board, a basket was lowered to the awaiting ships and more military forces were winched on board. The basket had been used by the crew to ferry up men, food, TV programmes cassettes and records but now they were being used to commandeer the platform. The crew of ten were ordered to switch off the transmitters, silencing Radio Noordzee in the middle of programme presented by Sonja van Proosdjijk and a record by 21 year old Anneke Gronloh titled ‘Paradiso’.


 

TV and Radio Noordzee had been silenced for good by the Dutch military on behalf of the Dutch Government. So, what happened to the platform built by the men at the Verolme dockyard in Cork harbour? In 1974, the Department of Public Works began using REM Island as a base for carrying out marine investigations and measurements. However, in October 2003 the authorities decided it is surplus to requirements, and a spokesman said that it has come to the end of its life and will be dismantled. The removal of equipment from the platform will begin in early 2004. It was later broken up and the platform and accommodation dock was anchored in Amsterdam harbour and opened as a restaurant.




[2] Jack Lynch b.1917 – d. 1999. Taoiseach 1966 -1973 & 1977 - 1979

[3] The Cork Evening Echo, May 14th 1964

[4] DĆ”il Ɖireann debate -Wednesday, 6 May 1964 Vol. 209 No. 8

 

[5] Belfast Telegraph May 16th 1964

[6] Irish Press, May 20th

[7] Cork Examiner May 22nd

[8] Southern Star May 23rd.

[9] Cork Examiner May 30th

 

Further Reading

http://www.offshoreradiomuseum.co.uk/page763.html

http://www.icce.rug.nl/~soundscapes/VOLUME14/Rem_Reflections.shtml

https://www.mediapages.nl/zeezenders/rtv-noordzee

https://www.anderetijden.nl/aflevering/670/Het-REM-eiland