I could not believe my ears! Just three years later, the sound of Radio Caroline could be heard again. A massive ship (by any previous radio standards) fitted out with luxurious facilities, named the Ross Revenge, had been prepared in Spain and had sailed to a position in the Knock John Deep. A three hundred foot aerial (about twice the height of that on the Mi Amigo) was fitted, and massive transmitters were provided. The one ship was able to broadcast to about 75% of the UK and a good part of Europe.

It seemed incredible, a signal almost as good as that from the BBC was combined with adventurous selections of music that couldn't be heard elsewhere. We heard DJs that played several records without speaking instead of the currently accepted self-opinionated chatter-boxes. They let the music speak for itself. Jingles like "Britain's only album station" and "rocking Europe from the North Sea" summed it up. Another slogan was "Radio Caroline is here to stay", and it did so for more years than any offshore radio station had done before.

Caroline was not alone. Another ship soon moored nearby, broadcasting mainstream pop music in American style as Laser 558. But the era of offshore stations all over the dial had passed.

Time took its toll, and the ship's condition gradually deteriorated. Horrendous storms struck the UK in 1987, which quickly became labelled "the hurricane". It must have been horrifying to be at sea in a ship with a three hundred foot aerial in those storms. Radio Caroline seemed to survive the onslaught, but what wasn't known at the time was that the aerial had suffered structural damage. During more storms in November, the three hundred foot aerial toppled and crashed into the sea.

Not to be beaten, a temporary aerial (although with a much smaller range) was provided, and the station was back on air in no time.

Although Radio Caroline was moored in international waters, all was not quite as legal as it should have been. The nearest country from which the ship could be legally supplied was Spain, but as can be imagined certain short cuts were taken.

The Department of Trade and Industry decided that this was something they could use to, literally, starve Caroline off the air. Their attentions were really aimed at Laser , which was broadcasting "pop" music from another ship nearby - this was considered to be much more of a threat to the BBC.

So, in 1989, the siege began - a DTI ship hovered close by, day in, day out. They were successful in stifling Laser but didn't, initially, cause a lot of inconvenience to Caroline. More drastic measures were to come.

In August, the ship was boarded illegally by Dutch heavies (under the eye of the British DTI) and put off the air. Broadcasting equipment was confiscated, as was the record collection. Other equipment was smashed.

By October, Radio Caroline was back on the air on low power using equipment donated by listeners. I never managed to pick up Caroline in north London again, and I understand broadcasts could only really be picked up well in Kent.

Owing to a continuing shortage of supplies, and general disrepair of the generators, Radio Caroline went off air in 1991. In November, in fierce storms, the Ross Revenge broke anchor and floated, uncontrolled, because the engines were also out of action. The ship was eventually driven onto the Goodwin Sands, where it was (reluctantly) abandoned. In history, only one ship had ever come off the Goodwin Sands.

The end. Or was it . . .

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