CHAPTER NINE: Wigan Pier Oil Well.

     It was one of those calm sea days in the summer of 1965. I was doing my morning show, having fun, playing lively music, music that moved, music to wake up to. I had come into the studio just before 6.00 a.m with an armful of LPs and a handful of fan mail, I had checked out the boxes of 45s that were around the mixing console to make sure that my favourite records were available to play. All seemed in order. “Knock-out!” That was the cliche of the day. My first number was Wooly Bully by Sam the Sham and The Pharaohs. And then with a “Honk! Honk!” on my horn and a greeting to the wonderful Radio Caroline morning, without a pause, on to the new release from the Animals, a song I was longing to play on the air, We Gotta Get Out Of This Place. Then from the Yardbird's Heart Full of Soul to my favourite Anyway Anyhow Anywhere by the Who. I was jumping, the ship was rolling and I hoped the listeners were enjoying the party.
     Time to read some fan-mail on the air. I picked a letter that was covered with drawings of hearts and lipstick kisses. “Dear Tom, I love your show. I listen all the time. I love all you guys out there. Thanks for the music. It's great having Caroline. Would you please play a request for Wigan Pier? Love Vye.”
“Wigan Pier?” I said. “You have to be joking, Vye! How can there be a Wigan Pier? Wigan is inland and piers are on the ocean. But I'll play a song specially for you. Here are the Fortunes with You've Got Your Troubles.”

Time to eat on Radio Caroline North.

     And that was how the drama began. After that I got swamped with mail. “How could you be so rude to our Wigan Pier?” “Don't you know that Wigan Pier is famous?” And on and on. And then I got a letter that explained the story. George Formby was one of Britain's favourite singer/entertainers from the middle of the twentieth century. His father was also an entertainer and performed at the many seaside holiday piers around the coast. His father used to say “I've entertained at every pier in this country including Wigan Pier.” Wigan was his home but it had no seaside pier. It was inland and that was the joke. But Wigan Pier, and the memories, were in the hearts of the people of Lancashire. I had ridiculed something special. I had touched a nerve.
     A few weeks later, after a shore leave, I was back on the air playing Help by the Beatles and, as the record was ending, I said “It's good to be back on Caroline. And guess what? I've been to Wigan. And I found the Pier. Yes the famous George Formby Wigan Pier. There's no seaside there, there's no place to sing, but I've found something else. I was standing on the dock of the old canal. It's hardly a pier but there I was standing and looking in the water and all I could see was dirty oily water. Yes dirty old oil! ‘Ha!’ I said. ‘There has to be oil here! You know, black gold!’ So I started digging. And sure enough, I discovered oil. So I formed the Wigan Pier Oil Well Company and you can be a share holder in this great oil discovery. By simply sending a self addressed stamped envelope, I'll send you a share by return.” There was a “Honk! Honk!” from my horn and then on came the Byrds with All I Really Want To Do. And on went the show. Now all I could do was wait and see what would happen.
     Three days later I was swamped. Sack loads of mail came in. And out went the shares. Each share had some crazy picture of me and these words: “This is to cert and fly that the bare her is a share grabber in the my theatrical non existent Tom Lodge Wigan Pier Oil Well whose out of his bird Press and Dent can be heard Dawn Busting 6 to 9 am on Caroline 199 giving mourn ewes of this great fiasco.” And this “Great Fiasco” was a great success.

     The music kept coming from the people on shore and we kept playing the songs, sending them back to the millions of listeners we were accumulating. Many new record labels were forming, making it easier and easier for musicians to be recorded and then, through us, to be heard. Before we came on the air, there had only been four record companies. Now the door was wide open.
     There was a lot of sunshine over that summer. Sometimes it was rough, sometimes calm. The Irish sea can be a challenge and a gift. We were becoming connected with these friendly, welcoming northern folk. I was enjoying the trips ashore, opening a boutique in Blackpool, doing gigs in Liverpool. Then there was the gig at the Centre 63 Club in Liverpool where Princess Margaret enjoyed the rock 'n' roll music as enthusiastically as any fan. It was fun being ashore and being available to our many listeners. I was on top and feeling good.
     Then I got a call from Ronan. “Hey, Tommy baby, I need you down here. Pack your bags and come south.” He didn't tell me any more. He said he would tell me when I got to London. But I had to bring all my belongings with me. What an adventure. I had no idea what was happening, or what would happen next. I remember that, on the plane flying to London, the Who were on board. Keith Moon, the Who's drummer, went up and down the aisle drumming on everybody's seats. The whole journey to London was a Who party. But what I didn't know was I would never return to the Isle of Man.

©Tom Lodge 2002