I first met Bo in 1959, when he was still CM Bower, of the first form. Before long we were in the first of several rock groups, gravitating from Kent to South London, and then to a residency at the St Moritz club in Wardour Street where Gaz Mayall (son of John) now holds sway. He was a (very) wild drummer in those days, a great crowd pleaser, which gave the rest of us a chance to go to the bar during his extended solos.

When he began to switch to guitar, we played regular floor spots at Sevenoaks Folk Club, and he happily found his new direction. While all this was going on, I was also riding his Honda for him at Santa Pod drag races until he got his own licence, and after that would sometimes find myself riding against him in qualifying.

When he moved to Cornwall he found a job as a tour guide at the Carnglaze Caverns, doubling as sound engineer at the Rum Store underground concert hall. All the time he was busy with his session and club appearances, and he became a stalwart of the Tenterden Festival in Kent.

Our visits to each other's turf could be interesting: on one occasion, I asked him to find me a pub session where I could do one or two from the floor, and instead found myself opening for Gordon Giltrap. On a return visit, I took him to the Low House at Laxfield, of glorious memory, where he was very well received, to the extent that a pub-crawling party of London dockers plied him with a series of jugs of finest Adnams ale. My planned evening of riff-swapping and reminiscences had to wait.

Bo was a kind and gentle soul, and it was sad that he rarely found the happiness in his private life that he brought to so many with his music. At the moment, I understand that it was his wish that no-one should attend his funeral, but I will post again if that changes.