49. The Beginning Of The End

Frankie announced he was leaving The Chequers and a few days later went to work on a barge off the coast of South West Africa – one of those massive floating Hoover-type contraptions which trawl around sucking up the sea bed in search of diamonds. Frankie had never really been truly happy in the band so jumped ship at the first opportunity and was replaced by Cape-tonian Charlie Peterson.

We continued playing at the Grand Prix and managed to fit in a couple of stage spots...one at the Alhambra...

and at a Sea Point theatre... where we played before the "Gonks Go Crazy" movie.

                                                                    Sea Point theatre

...although things were going pretty well we were beginning to get restless. A Rhodesian friend of ours, Billy Bain (blog 29 – the Hank B Marvin look alike who "could play the guitar like a ring on the bell" (and in a moment of 'blind ignorance' faced off a bull elephant) had travelled down to Cape Town to catch a boat to England – he wanted to see how far his musical talent would take him. I'm sure Billy's departure planted the seed. Then as fate would have it something happened one night that set our life course for the next forty odd years.

Little did we realise when we finished our last set at the Grand Prix one night that it would indeed be our last set. We left the owner of the club, Mimi, playing poker with a bunch of his cronies. The next day we learnt he’d lost it. I’m talking The Grand Prix Night Club not his mental state; though both apply. Can you believe it? Losing a seafront night club on the turn of a card. It’s the truth, may God strike me dead.

Stavros the new proprietor introduced himself with some shattering news.  Our services were no longer needed. He had already hired a new band. A jazz trio. His cousin’s jazz trio.

With the busy summer season about to start we found ourselves without of a job.

It was the beginning of the end for The Chequers. We were offered a couple of weeks at a hotel out at Muizenburg which we accepted. However, unbeknown to us, the hotel management, for reasons known only to themselves, had advertised the band as the Chequers ‘Orchestra’. When couples, none under the age of forty, turned up in ball gowns and Tuxedos...that was the final straw. We were a rock band, for God’s sake! 

We made some ridiculous excuse like one of us had contracted leprosy or some contagious disease, packed up our gear and left. Lea and I were desperate to follow Billy Bain and try our luck in the U.K. Jack said he’d like to give it a go too. Unfortunately, Mac decided to stay in Cape Town...looking back I'm sure he made the right decision. 

So that was it. The end of the Chequers... the band didn’t break up ...well not officially. We just kind of disbanded...which I guess is the same thing.