In centuries past, before Disney, and before Lego, a pirate was a one-eyed, gut-stabbin’ force to be reckoned with. Merchant seafarers traveled the open waters, doused with a sense of dread that no mythical sea beast or devastating viral outbreak could inspire amongst a crew. Naval forces the world over tried desperately to both avoid or squelch the pirate threat, knowing that eventually, no matter what methods they employed, the pirates would find them, rob them, and probably murder them.
Flash forward to today, when pirates are… still a serious danger in certain waters. But there is now a class of pirate who exists for an expressive, liberating, and much less terrifying reason: to broadcast independent radio without a license. Instead of shark-infested oceans, they find themselves sailing the airwaves, giving back music and talk radio to their audiences without fear of censorship, rather than the raping and pillaging that had become the pirate’s customary role in the early 18th century.
Yet, with the freedom that comes from operating a pirate radio station, there is also the risk of invoking the wrath of an enemy more influential than any of those who swapped cannon balls with the murderous sea dogs of the past: The Federal Communications Commission. Employing whatever tactics they find necessary, the FCC has a history of stopping at nothing to silence these pirates and force them to surrender more currency than any treasure chest would be holding below deck.
Enter Pirate Cat Radio. Wiring into the world from a San Francisco coffee shop at 87.9 FM, Pirate Cat has no fear of the FCC, citing the U.S. Code of Federal Regulations that allows them to broadcast legally (Title 47, section 73.3542). This piece of legislature declares, contrary to popular belief, that it is perfectly legal to run a pirate radio station during “… the continuance of war in which the United States is engaged.” Displaying it proudly on their website, Pirate Cat has separated themselves from the stereotypical notion of a pirate crew, as they use the law of their own government to their advantage, rather than disobeying it through the usage of a cutlass or talking parrot.
First opening its doors in April 1996, Pirate Cat Radio is owned and operated by a veteran of Afghanistan, Daniel Roberts, who legally changed his name to Monkey in 2001. “It had been my nickname all my life,” he explains, “I just wanted to do it. Why not?”
In an age where the airwaves are clogged with unmanned, automated AM stations broadcasting in a continuous loop, and the tasteless jabbering of early morning DJ’s, pirate radio as a whole is even more jarring through its passion for independent broadcasting. Monkey agrees, “Our DJs aren’t pushing anything, and hopefully they’re talking about something a little more interesting.” Indeed, the lack of an authoritative eye over their shoulders allows Pirate Cat DJs to throw on punk rock, comedians, lively debates and other radical messages into the air as “Free radio for free minds.” Their listeners were even privy to live broadcasts from protests at George W. Bush’s inauguration.
This dedication to finding the interesting topics of the community and placing them firmly in the ears of their listeners has turned Pirate Cat Radio into a staple in the San Francisco community. Recently, the station was able to rally enough support to keep a chain store from opening in the Mission District, an area known for its distaste of putrid, numerous corporate institutions. “It shows we are supporting the community in all facets possible,” Monkey explains.
From bilingual shows for the Hispanic community, to status quo city hall issues, Pirate Cat is pushing the envelope by trying to include something for everyone. Local politicians have even recognized the influence of the station, and when asked to come into the coffee shop for a Q&A, many have done so. Monkey states that the important thing is, “The community is getting together and utilizing the station… sometimes, volunteering five hours to do so.”
Monkey has received hundreds of letters from the FCC ordering him to shut down, but to each one he simply responds with the selection from the FCC’s own regulation that states he is allowed to function. This has appeared to hold the authorities at bay, which is most beneficial, as FCC fines for operating without a license have increased from $1000 to $8000 since 1991.
Yet, Monkey and his crew have no fear of flying the Jolly Roger and taking aim at whatever hits their community next; in fact, it would be a crime to limit their “free radio” to only their community:
“Tell anyone in Philly, if they throw up a transmitter, we’ll broadcast Pirate Cat to them!”
