We love the Sixties

270 wasn’t only having fun, it was getting satisfaction; the satisfaction that it contributed to brightening up the lives of hundreds of thousands people in the North East. And now the satisfaction that, after 40 years, you still remember us.

I was broadcasting on the Aden Forces Broadcasting Association (1963-1965) when a young airman came to the studio looking to join the station. His name was Paul Burnett and we finished up doing a comedy cum satire programme together. I didn’t know it then but Paul and I were to be opposite numbers 270.

I remember going out to the Oceaan 7 with programme controller Noel Miller, I was feeling very apprehensive and nervous. Stage fright has always been a major problem with me. Noel was great and patient; after an hour or so the nerves were gone, I was allowed to stay and Mikey Mo was born.

Life on board was easy-going. Crew, technicians and deejays all messing together, it wasn’t a large ship so you had to. I remember the grub was good and now and then we’d get spoiled by returning fishermen who give us some fresh fish or crabs or, if we were lucky, lobsters.

The turntables were mounted on gimbals to ensure that they remained horizontal while the rest of us were in motion. After three hours in the studio you were convinced that you were sitting still while the turntables were going absolutely wild in all directions. And they had to work hard sometimes. I seem to remember force 10 easterlies which put the fear of God into me. A new deejay, whose name I’ve forgotten, was so sick that after two days on board the local lifeboat had to come and get him. He was never seen again. Touch wood the sea-sickness never got to me.

On shore we had fun compèring the 270 gigs with the pop greats of that year: the Troggs, Manfred Man and many others. Another giant plus for the “Pirates” was the fact that we stimulated the pop industry, increased record sales and helped many a new group on their way to fame and fortune.

One of my high points was being the first (don’t laugh) hippy deejay. Dressed in my floral trousers, golden shirt and ‘mink’ belt, I recited my freshly written poetry while the audience threw flowers. Dangerous though, luckily, just in time I saw the rather long and heavy sun-flower spearing my way and ducked. So much for flower-power.

We always liked visiting the back-office at Wilf Proudfoot’s place. We’d pop in to get the mail and have a chat.

Mike Hayes in 1967

The end came too soon. As it happened I was on shore on the last day and arranged for a Scarborough lobster boat to take me to the ship, it was foggy and the tender wouldn’t leave the harbour. So we left on the lobster boat not knowing that 270 had moved south of Flamborough Head in the night.

So I spent most of the day curled up and miserable in that little boat. Back on shore I had an idea; I rang RAF Leckonfield and asked if one of their helicopters would fly me out and winch me down. No, the weather was too bad but they would take a parcel. So I got a tape recorder organised, recorded my message and packed it in a large, waterproof box with the message “Don’t mention the RAF!”.

Well, it just missed the ship and the RAF was mentioned. The then Prime Minister, Harold Wilson, was angry and ordered a full enquiry. I sent him a telegram explaining but I doubt he was impressed. I never did get to meet the pilots and thank them

So ended a great period in modern British history. A period which, in the end, got the British people what they wanted; a free choice of radio. I left, went to Berlin and then on to Amsterdam where I stayed till now.

Thank you all for the times I had in the North East and thanks for remembering.

Byyyyyyyyyyyyyyysie Byyyyyyyyyyye

Mikey Mo

PS. When I left Scarborough I left a box of memories in my digs; photo’s, papers, etc.; the address I have forgotten. When I tried to get them back in 1968 I had to pay to get them transported and couldn’t afford it. So they were forgotten. If anyone out there knows about them, if they still exist, please let me know because even after 40 years I’d love to have them back again.