Hub - IN LIKE FLYNN

69 years ago: Errol Flynn returned to his “ZACA” in September 1955. The 118-foot schooner had been moored at the Real Club Náutico de Palma since 1952. Once a celebrated screen pirate and Robin Hood, Flynn was now a fading star in Hollywood. However, despite his decline, his charisma remained intact. Wherever Flynn went, attention followed. His reputation as a wild rogue, paired with an undeniable elegance, continued to draw people in. Even as his finances crumbled, he maintained the air of a free spirit who roamed the seas like an old buccaneer in his own realm.

Between film productions, Flynn sought refuge on his yacht in Palma’s bay. The “ZACA” wasn’t just a vessel for Flynn – it was his sanctuary, a symbol of freedom and independence. The towering sails that caught the wind reflected the adventurer’s spirit that never truly left him. On board, away from the turmoil of Hollywood, Flynn could still be the hero he once portrayed on screen.

He avoided the United States, partly due to outstanding tax debts. His fortune was embezzled by accountants, and his marriage to Patricia Wymore was in ruins. Meanwhile, his box office hits from the 1930s and 1940s were now reaching Spanish cinemas, bringing Flynn a delayed wave of fame on the Iberian Peninsula. In Spain, Flynn wasn’t just seen as an actor – he was viewed as a symbol of a bygone Hollywood era, one of romance, adventure, and heroism. In Palma, for some, he was a hero, while for others, he was a tragic figure.

Flynn was a regular at “Joe’s” on Plaza Gomila and Rudi’s “Tirol” on Calle de Apuntadores – legendary hangouts known for their raucous gatherings. His image as a playboy and womanizer overshadowed other aspects of his life, including his political convictions: Flynn had visited Spain in 1937 during the Civil War, where he commented on the conflict from the Republican side. His passion for freedom fighters resurfaced in 1958, much to Hollywood’s dismay, when he produced The Cuban Story: The Truth about Fidel Castro’s Revolution – a unique documentary of Cuba’s transformation. For Flynn, the fight for freedom wasn’t just a role – it was a deeply held belief.

In his diary entry from October 8, 1955, in Palma de Mallorca, Flynn wrote:

“(…) Favourite occupation: A prolonged bout in the bedroom.

The greatest calamity: Castration.

What would I like to be at seventy? At seventy, I confidently hope I will have had at least eight more wives, have grown a stomach that I can regard with respect, and still be able to walk upstairs to the bedroom without aching or groaning.”

This mix of humor and melancholy reveals Flynn’s self-awareness about his fading youth and vitality. While he joked about future wives and a “respectable” belly, there’s an underlying fear of the physical decline of a man once known for his vitality and presence. The adventurer who had conquered Hollywood was now facing the inevitable signs of aging.

On October 14, 1959, while negotiating the sale of his beloved “ZACA” in Vancouver, Errol Flynn died of a heart attack at the age of 50. Even in his final years, he remained a figure of fascination, with his life oscillating between legendary escapades and quiet, personal struggles.