Alternative History
Ross Revenge 1983

MV Ross Revenge, Home of Radio Caroline

Radio Caroline was an offshore pirate radio station that survived the nuclear devastation of 1983 and became the last independent broadcaster in Britain. Originally launched in 1964 as an illegal station transmitting from international waters, it faced repeated shutdown attempts by the British government before finally going off-air when its ship, the MV Mi Amigo, sank in 1980. In 1983, the station returned on board the MV Ross Revenge, but just one month later, nuclear war erupted. As the United Kingdom collapsed, the Ross Revenge fled north, eventually anchoring off Holy Island in Northumbria. Over the next several decades, Radio Caroline North defied authorities, surviving storms, raids, and the rise of state-controlled media, keeping its signal alive as a symbol of defiance and free expression. By the early 2000s, the ship was no longer seaworthy, and in 2018, Caroline officially joined the Royal Northumbrian Broadcasting Authority (RNBA) as a heritage station. MV Ross Revenge was permanently moored in Hartlepool Marina as a museum, preserving the legacy of Britain’s last free radio station. Today, every RNBA station honours its legacy by signing off each night with the words: "Good evening, Caroline. Good evening, Caroline."

Pirate Radio[]

Pirate radio refers to unlicensed, independent radio broadcasting, often operating outside government regulations to challenge state-controlled media and monopolised airwaves. Emerging in the 1960s, pirate stations like Radio Caroline defied British broadcasting laws, offering an alternative to the BBC’s limited programming by playing popular rock and pop music that mainstream stations refused to air. These offshore stations, typically broadcasting from ships in international waters, faced frequent crackdowns, with governments passing restrictive laws to silence them. Despite this, pirate radio became a cultural movement, representing free speech, youth rebellion, and defiance against authority. It was this spirit of resistance that kept Radio Caroline alive, even as the world collapsed in 1983.

Radio Caroline - An Institution of Rebellion[]

Radio Caroline was founded in 1964 by Ronan O’Rahilly as an offshore pirate radio station that broadcast from international waters to challenge the BBC’s monopoly over British radio. During its early years, the station became a cultural icon, championing free expression and playing music that mainstream stations often ignored. It operated despite repeated efforts by the British government to suppress it, with legislation such as the Marine Broadcasting Offences Act of 1967 attempting to shut it down. Nevertheless, Radio Caroline persisted, moving to different ships and locations to keep its signal alive.

Throughout the 1970s, the station faced significant financial and technical challenges. By the end of the decade, the MV Mi Amigo, the ship that housed its transmissions, had become structurally unsound due to years of wear, damage from storms, and a lack of maintenance. On March 20, 1980, disaster struck when the Mi Amigo began taking on water during a violent storm off the Essex coast. The crew sent a final message before abandoning ship: "Goodnight everyone. God bless you all." The ship sank beneath the waves shortly afterward, taking with it the last major offshore pirate station in British waters.

After three years off the air, O’Rahilly acquired the MV Ross Revenge, a former Icelandic trawler, in 1981. He and his team spent the next two years outfitting the ship with upgraded transmission equipment and reinforcing its hull to better withstand rough North Sea conditions. The Ross Revenge was equipped with a more powerful antenna and studio space that could sustain extended broadcasts. By August 20, 1983, Radio Caroline was back on the air, transmitting from international waters on AM frequency 963 kHz.

The return of Radio Caroline was met with renewed interest from listeners, many of whom had thought the station was gone for good. With a mix of rock, pop, and independent music, it quickly regained a loyal audience across Britain and mainland Europe. However, its new era would be short-lived. On September 26, 1983, nuclear war broke out. London, Manchester, and other major cities were incinerated in the first strikes. That evening, as Fleetwood Mac’s "The Chain" played across the airwaves, the station’s equipment was abruptly silenced by the electromagnetic pulses generated by nuclear detonations.

Post Doomsday[]

When the nuclear attacks began, the Ross Revenge was anchored off the Essex coast. Although it avoided direct destruction, the electromagnetic pulse from the detonations fried much of its broadcasting equipment, cutting off its medium-wave signal. In the hours following the initial strikes, the crew attempted to restore power, but it became clear that most of their systems had been rendered useless. As reports of devastation spread via shortwave emergency channels, it became evident that there was no functioning British government left to respond to the disaster.

With supplies running low and no clear way to continue broadcasting, the crew was faced with a difficult choice: remain anchored and risk starvation, or set sail in search of safety. Andy Archer, one of the station’s longest-serving presenters, urged that they head north, where the fallout might be less severe. With Ronan O’Rahilly’s agreement, the Ross Revenge weighed anchor on the morning of September 27 and began a slow journey along the devastated east coast of England.

As the damaged and fuel starved ship slowly moved northward, the crew witnessed first hand the scale of the catastrophe. Hull had been reduced to ruins, its docks ablaze, and the Humber Bridge lay twisted in the water. The coastline was littered with debris from capsized vessels, and black columns of smoke marked the locations of cities that had been annihilated. Navigation was difficult, as many landmarks had been destroyed, and their maps were rendered unreliable by the sheer scale of the destruction.

After nearly a month or stop start journeys north, with scavenged fuel reserves nearly depleted and the ship in desperate need of repair, the Ross Revenge reached Holy Island off the Northumbrian coast on October 18, 1983. There, they found a small community of survivors on Lindisfarne. The islanders provided the crew with food and supplies in exchange for their promise to restore the station’s broadcast capabilities. To do so, they would need to scavenge replacement parts from what remained of the industrial centres along the Northumbrian coast.

Resurgence[]

Determined to bring Radio Caroline back on air, the crew organized scavenging expeditions to the ruins of Newcastle and the Tyne Docks. Despite the danger posed by collapsing buildings and lingering radiation, they managed to recover essential components, including cables, transformers, and backup transmitters from abandoned ships. Over the next few months, they painstakingly repaired their shortwave transmitter, working under difficult conditions on the deck of the Ross Revenge.

On February 17, 1984, after months of silence, Radio Caroline North returned to the airwaves. Though its signal was weaker than before, it was enough to reach Northumbria, parts of Scotland, and the Irish coast. The first words spoken after the station’s rebirth were simple but powerful: "If you can hear us, you are not alone. This is Radio Caroline, and we’re still here." The station quickly became a vital source of news and entertainment for survivors, playing music, reporting on weather conditions, and relaying messages between scattered communities.

During the late 1980s and early 1990s, as Northumbria began to stabilise, regional authorities sought to establish official radio networks. The rise of Radio Northumberland, Cleveland Radio, and other regional stations posed a challenge to Caroline’s independence. The Alnwick authorities, eager to consolidate power, attempted to shut down the Ross Revenge on multiple occasions, but public support prevented them from doing so. The station had become more than just a broadcaster; it was now a cultural symbol of Britain’s resilience.

Despite its influence, Caroline faced increasing hardships. The Great Storm of 1987 damaged its antenna mast, and a fire in 1998 nearly destroyed the ship. Crew numbers dwindled, as many moved to government-backed stations or retired. By the early 2000s, it was clear that the Ross Revenge could not remain at sea indefinitely. Conversations began about the station’s future and whether it should finally integrate into the growing Northumbrian media landscape.

Decline[]

With the formal establishment of the Kingdom of Northumbria in 2015, a national broadcasting system was needed to unify the region. In 2017, the Royal Northumbrian Broadcasting Authority (RNBA) was created, merging regional stations into a centralised media network. Negotiations began to incorporate Radio Caroline into the RNBA, ensuring that its legacy would endure as part of Northumbria’s cultural identity.

In 2018, an agreement was reached. Radio Caroline would become a heritage station within the RNBA, maintaining its editorial independence while its broadcasts were supported by state infrastructure. The Ross Revenge, no longer seaworthy, was towed to Hartlepool Marina, where it would be restored as a museum dedicated to the history of free radio.

On May 5, 2018, the Ross Revenge made its final journey. In a live broadcast, Tom Anderson declared, "The sea carried us through the storm. Now it carries us home. This is Radio Caroline… signing off from the waves." With that, the last pirate station of old Britain became part of the new Northumbria.

Legacy[]

Today, Radio Caroline remains an important part of Northumbrian culture. The Ross Revenge is preserved as a museum in Hartlepool Marina, where visitors can explore its history and learn about the role of independent broadcasting in the post-Doomsday world. Though it no longer operates as an outlaw station, it continues to air classic programs and serves as a training ground for new broadcasters.

As a tribute to its legacy, RNBA stations often end their nightly broadcast with the words: "Good evening, Caroline. Good evening, Caroline." This ritual serves as a reminder of the station’s role in keeping the spirit of free radio alive during Britain’s darkest years.