For many people around the world, from all walks of life, the name of Earl Darrell has become synonymous with Bermuda.

Over the past 50 years or so, honeymooners, lovers, captains of industry, film, sports and pop stars, politicians, prime ministers, grandmother vacationers and local families have all warmed to the sound of Mr. Darrell's piano. Many tourists feel that, without an evening spent in his company, their vacation would be incomplete and a surprising number write to him once they get home, and drop a line to tell him when they are coming back. Some even send him the scores of the latest hit songs and Broadway musicals.

He belongs to that select group of people who, in the `golden age' of Bermuda's tourist industry, spent over a decade travelling all over the United States and Canada with the Island's tourism leaders, and today, is still hailed as one of Bermuda's best ambassadors abroad.

His secret for lasting success, he says, is that he has always played the music that people want to hear. With a truly vast repertory of `oldie goldies' and all the latest tunes, these may include medleys from such favourites as West Side Story, Les Miserables, Phantom of the Opera, Moonlight in Vermont, Sondheim's Send in the Clowns, Georgia, a Chopin etude, and a little jazz where he sings quietly along as his fingers caress the keys.

In his 70s now (and none too keen about revealing his exact age), Earl Darrell, who plays six nights a week at the Waterlot Inn, looks at least 20 years younger. His secret? "I swim for one and a half hours every day! I can't be doing all that exercising, twisting about on the floor and straining your body in all directions, so I do my thing in the water.'' This activity is restricted to the summer, from May to October: "I can't wait for summer to arrive so that I can go overboard and get rid of all that cream and crumpets that I've indulged in during the winter. I like talking to tourists while I'm swimming -- they can't believe I like to go to New York for a vacation -- and that's really how it all started. One day, this guy pointed out that people pay a fortune to come here and sit on the beach, so I wondered why should they have it all to themselves when I can go for free? So I go every day now.'' Mr. Darrell began playing the piano at the age of eight, inspired, probably by the fact that he comes from a very musical family. He remembers that one of his uncles sang for Princess Louise when she first came to Bermuda back in 1883 (thus putting Bermuda on the tourist map and inspiring the name of Bermuda's first hotel). "My parents and grandparents were all show people.

They specialised in negro spirituals and gospel singing,'' says Mr. Darrell, who has strong views on what constitutes `Bermuda' music. "It's definitely not Calypso. I don't like playing that. I think Bermudians' efforts are just a mockery, trying to do something that doesn't come naturally to true Bermudians. It was forced on us by the demands of tourism. Lance Hayward left Bermuda because he didn't want to play that kind of music. He was my boy! I went to him for lessons and he taught me a lot. He used to tell me what to do and what not to do: `don't improvise, concentrate on the melody and don't try to be Oscar Petersen - be yourself!' I've also spent years playing and working at the piano with Red Smith who, unfortunately, is in the hospital now. But for the past 20 years we used to play together twice a week, right here in my living room. We have always concentrated on playing the music people want to hear. Mind you,'' he says, gesturing to the piano (crammed with sheet music), "I don't like these Japanese pianos -- you just don't get the quality of sound. The old ones are best.'' At the Waterlot Inn (he has been associated with the Princess Hotel group now for 24 years), he plays a grand piano, and in the process has entertained such people as Muhammed Ali, Jimmy Connors, skater Dorothy Hamill, former Prime Minister Edward Heath, Lena Horne, Oscar Petersen, Duke Ellington, Billy Taylor, Secretary of State William Rogers, Joan Fontaine, F. Lee Bailey, Regis Philbin, Ben Vereen, Jacqueline Bissett, Telly Savalas and a regular visitor, Ross Perot, for whom he always plays his favourite song, `Crazy For You': "To tell you the truth, I can't remember half the people who've heard me play.'' Many of them are recorded for posterity, however, in a huge pile of photograph albums, pictured around Earl Darrell and his piano.

During the Second World War, he joined the 104-strong Bermuda Militia Artillery, attached to the 8th Army, and was sent, first of all, to train in the US. "I was about 18 then, and it was the first time I had ever left this country. What a feeling! I'll never forget when they blew that siren out at sea. There we were, all lounging around the decks, playing cards and laughing and talking -- and it scared us half to death, but it was only a drill.'' After travelling in convoy across the Atlantic they ended up in Naples, Italy.

"I will never forget that first morning when we arrived, at the base of Mount Vesuvius. Our officer took us to the top and when we got there, I saw all these little things flying beneath me and was told they were German Spitfires.

That's when he asked us what we would do if we came face to face with the enemy and eventually, I answered up and said I'd shoot him. And the officer said, `Bloody right, because if you don't, he'll shoot you' and that was when I really realised what war was all about and that this was for real. Up till then, it had all been fun and a bit of an adventure and I thought, `If my mother could only see me now.''' Afterwards, he found out that she would sing about him, a song called `Where is my wandering boy tonight?'.

Mr. Darrell's main job was to take prisoners-of-war from Italy on the troopships to Egypt. "There were miles and miles of cages, full of Germans and Italians. They were almost my colour because they was no shade and they just wore khaki shorts and spent all day playing volleyball, soccer and croquet. They were having a great time! Better than us, because they got three square meals a day -- while we were getting two hard biscuits with some jam on top and the guy would fill up my mess can with tea, give me a tin of corned beef and then count off the eight men behind me and I had to cut that up for all nine of us.'' He believes that in today's world, where most people have never experienced the privations of war, there is a `softness' of character. "They take things for granted -- they live out of the fridge, on processed food, and fast food.

In the last 20 years or so, I've noticed that most children have no manners, can't be bothered to speak civilly to you. Any child born up to around 1948 was always called a `war baby' but I'm afraid that now, we'll be referring to a `drug baby', born in the era of drugs.'' Married now to his wife, Winifred, for 47 years, he laments the loss of family ties and Bermuda's work ethos. In the early days of his career, when he first returned from war, no one thought it strange to work overtime. "My first job was actually as a bell boy at the Belmont Hotel but I used to play the piano in the lobby and would serenade the guests even when I was off duty. In those days,'' he recalls, "visitors would arrive by ship, bring huge trunks with them, and stay for the whole winter.'' He formed his own band, Andarno, and played in all the hotels. His band was the first to play at the old 40 Thieves Club and, with Charlie Berry on bass, would regularly entertain stars such as Tom Jones and Engelbert Humperdinck at their own private parties while they were appearing in Bermuda. He then joined Hubert Smith's band where that would rotate round the major hotels. "A lot of people still call me `Yellow Bird' because we'd play that song two or three times a night.'' In the 50s and 60s he went on briefing tours to the US and Canada, when top hotel managers took the Hubert Smith band as part of the attraction. "People like Bodo (von Alvensleben) gave his heart to the business. He'd be in the back rooms with all the guys and he did it for the love of it -- a real hotel man and an inspiration to everyone.'' Earl Darrell's philosophy for happiness remains a simple one. "I don't like all this political stuff. Most of them forget where they came from, and they forget the ordinary, hard-working people. And I don't believe the Big Dollar is everything -- people worry too much about money and material things. I never put money first, although I expect to be paid what I am worth.'' Laughing his huge laugh, he adds, "If you ask people if they'd rather have a million dollars or a million friends, most people choose the former. But I say I'd choose a million friends -- and then ask them to slip me a couple of dollars!'' MEMORIES -- Earl Darrell, who has been entertaining visitors to Bermuda for the past 50 years, pictured at the Waterlot Inn.