Thank you to Ray Robinson, Dr Adrian Peterson, and Jeff White for another fascinating 'radio' feature
Adapted from https://offshoreradio.info/star-club-en/
Jeff: For today’s feature, we are indebted to occasional Wavescan contributor Dr. Martin van der Ven in Germany for his research. He has uncovered a story about a previously little-known plan to launch an offshore station in the 1960’s off the north coast of West Germany. Here’s Ray Robinson in Los Angeles with the story.
Ray: Thanks, Jeff. And a fascinating story it is, too. Dr Martin van der Ven writes:
By the summer of 1964, offshore radio stations were no longer a novelty in Europe’s coastal waters – they were springing up like mushrooms. Radio Veronica was broadcasting from the Borkumriff to Dutch listeners, while Radio Caroline North, operating from the MV Caroline, and Radio Caroline South from the MV Mi Amigo were establishing their legendary reputation as the most famous floating radio stations in the world.
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| Radio Syd/Offshore Radio Museum |
Radio Syd was defying Scandinavian anti-offshore radio legislation and was continuing to broadcast from the MS Cheeta for a Swedish audience off the southern Swedish city of Malmö, while in the Thames estuary, Radio Sutch on Shivering Sands Fort and Radio Invicta on Red Sands Fort served smaller English audiences with their comparatively modest transmission power. On the newly built steel REM Island, RTV Noordzee was even providing Dutch audiences with both radio and television programs – a small revolution at sea.
At the end of August 1964, the deep-sea trawler Norderney was being converted into a larger broadcasting base for Radio Veronica at a shipyard in Zaandam, the port of Amsterdam. But, speculation was rife in the Netherlands that it was actually destined to be a German radio ship instead. At least four newspapers reported along those lines – a misunderstanding that conveniently served as a welcome diversion for the Veronica organisation. 
Then, on August 31 and September 1, 1964, came the next headlines: numerous Dutch newspapers, citing agency reports, claimed that a certain Manfred Weissleder, a bar owner in Hamburg, was in fact planning a new offshore station aimed at German listeners. Weissleder was the co-owner of the Star-Club, which had quickly developed into one of the most important music venues in the world – on a par with Liverpool’s Cavern Club. Star-Club had first opened its doors on April 13, 1962, with none other than The Beatles headlining on the opening night. The club was open seven nights a week, with up to eight bands playing into the early hours of the morning. It was a large venue accommodating around 1,000 people. About 70,000 visitors came each month – roughly one million per year.
By the end of 1962, the “Fab Four” had appeared on the Star-Club stage 79 times, launching their world career from Hamburg. Over the following years, the club lived up to its name with many of the biggest stars in rock ’n’ roll performing there: Brenda Lee, Ray Charles, The Searchers, The Animals, Bill Haley, Chuck Berry, Jerry Lee Lewis, Little Richard, Fats Domino, Johnnie & The Hurricanes, Gerry & The Pacemakers, Gene Vincent – they all played at the Star-Club.
In 1963, Weissleder launched his own Star-Club record label, but like Ronan O’Rahilly in England, found he couldn’t get his records played on the established public radio stations in Germany such as Norddeutscher Rundfunk (NDR), Radio Bremen, Westdeutscher Rundfunk (WDR) and further south around Frankfurt, Hessischer Rundfunk (HR). So, a key part of his grand vision became the creation of an offshore radio station broadcasting from international waters – Star Radio.
The announcement of the planned radio station caused a worldwide stir. Stories in Bild and Der Spiegel in Germany, Billboard in the USA and numerous Dutch newspapers differed on the details, but all confirmed that Weissleder intended to anchor his radio ship beyond the three-mile limit in the mouth of the River Elbe.
Weissleder claimed that an obsolete Norwegian bulk carrier of around 3,000 gross tonnes had been loaded with scrap ballast in Northern Ireland, so that the planned 100-foot-high antenna wouldn’t cause the ship to capsize in heavy seas. A 150 kW medium-wave transmitter from Japan was reportedly to provide the signal. Also, the German electronics company Telefunken had offered to supply and install the complete transmission system – in exchange for preferential advertising slots.
With the help of 15 Norwegian seamen, two transmitter engineers and two disc jockeys, Weissleder said he planned to offer German and Danish listeners a 19-hour daily programme of music and advertising. With a theoretical range of nearly 250 miles, “Star Radio” — according to Weissleder — would cover the entire broadcast area of NDR and Radio Bremen, as well as large parts of the areas served by WDR and Hessischer Rundfunk. The planned transmitter, he claimed, would be 50 kilowatts stronger than NDR’s flagship station in Hamburg.
Ever the optimist, Weissleder predicted that one in five of the estimated six million listeners from Jutland in the north to central Germany in the south, and from the Ruhr region in the west to Berlin in the east, would soon switch from their domestic stations to his new offshore broadcaster. Radio Bremen promptly announced it would use “all technical and legal means” to silence the new competitor operating in international waters, although they didn’t specify what those means would be.
Weissleder’s promise was straightforward: “We’ll broadcast lots of advertising and even more lively music. We’ll do everything to make sure our listeners don’t fall asleep.” Four of the 19 daily broadcasting hours were to feature live recordings from Hamburg’s Star-Club.
There was much speculation about the station’s financiers. Allegedly, a Swiss and a British backer were behind the venture, though their identities were never disclosed. Weissleder announced he would fly to London on September 2, 1964 to hold negotiations. He said the Star Radio headquarters would be managed by Henri Henroid, a Swiss-born show-business figure who had emigrated to England and set up offices in Dean Street, London.
Weissleder was equally confident on the commercial side, and said that two major firms from the oil and record industries, as well as the margarine company Unilever had already expressed interest in booking commercial airtime.
When exactly “Star Radio” would take up its broadcasting position off the Elbe estuary, Weissleder said, depended largely on the speed of his legal team, which was “examining the laws of four countries — Norway, England, Denmark and the Federal Republic — to make sure nothing can happen to us.” The West German government in Bonn initially reacted with calm. Ministerial Councillor Dr Weling from the Federal Ministry of Posts remarked laconically: “We don’t have a gunboat to shoot them down. And if the radio station is outside national German waters, what exactly are we supposed to do?” His comment left open the question of how effective any legal measures against an offshore broadcaster anchored beyond the three-mile limit could really be.
The launch date, originally announced with great optimism, was pushed further and further back as the months went by. In the first reports at the end of August 1964, it was claimed that the radio ship would anchor before the onset of the November storms in the treacherous waters off the mouth of the River Elbe. On September 15, reports suggested that broadcasts could begin “within seven weeks.” On November 20, the Dutch newspaper De Telegraaf reported that the radio ship would “leave the Irish port within the next few days,” and that broadcasting could begin as early as December 1.
But that, too, came to nothing, and it appeared that Weissleder’s plans to establish a financing company had failed. Shortly before Christmas 1964, Weissleder was again interviewed in London, where he defiantly stated that he still intended to begin broadcasting the following year. Reality, however, soon caught up with him. On February 6, 1965, the American magazine Billboard published a brief but decisive report: Manfred Weissleder had abandoned his plans. Scandinavian members of his radio team had learned they could face prosecution by their own authorities, which made the realization of the project impossible. To this day, no one knows for certain whether the alleged Norwegian radio ship, supposedly refitted in Ireland, ever really existed – or whether the much-discussed 150-kilowatt medium-wave transmitter was ever more than a myth.
For Weissleder, the failure was a heavy blow. His reputation undoubtedly suffered from the collapse of the radio project. His Star-Club was also in decline by the mid-1960s: the brilliance of the early years had faded, and frustration among musicians, staff, and audiences was growing. The stars stopped coming, and the fans drifted away disappointed. In September 1967, Weissleder finally drew the line – the man once hailed as the “German Brian Epstein” ended his involvement with the Star-Club. On the night of February 27, 1980, Manfred Weissleder died of heart failure at the age of just 52. His was a life marked by energy, ingenuity and unrelenting entrepreneurial drive – and by a bold vision, a radio station on the high seas, that never came to be.
Back to you, Jeff.
