guarantees.'' So says Milt Robinson, one of Bermuda's most respected musicians, of the ups and downs encountered in a life-long career which has taken him from Bermuda to North America, the Caribbean, and back again.

Indeed, if it was great wealth that Mr. Robinson was after when he chose music as his profession, he would have been sadly disappointed. Instead, while many local musicians bemoan their fate in a shrinking world of entertainment opportunities and changing tastes, Mr. Robinson takes the view that flexibility is the key to survival.

It is a philosophy which has, from the very beginning, been his watchword, and one which has allowed him not only to continually develop as a musician but also get ahead in an oftentimes precarious economic environment.

"I love music, so it doesn't matter what type it is, I will do what I can. I am comfortable working with anybody because everybody has something to contribute. I am learning, and if they pick up something from me, fine. You are supposed to share and help each other.'' Born into a musical family -- his ancestors, parents and relatives all played various instruments and sang -- young Milt took an early interest in an old guitar he found lying around the house. With a few self-taught chords under his belt, the lad was ultimately inspired to learn more through a fellow student, Reggie Goater, who played with Kingsley Swan at the Angel's Grotto night club.

Each Sunday, Mr. Robinson would make his way to Reggie's house on Friswell's Hill, there to learn the standard chords of various American songs. So apt did he prove, in fact, that his friend recommended he study music theory with Professor Joseph Richards, a music teacher at Berkeley Institute, who also taught many of Bermuda's musicians.

Keen though young Milt was, it wasn't until he went to high school in Montreal that he understood just what music meant to him.

"I realised then how important the guitar was to me because I didn't have one. I was in a different society and I really missed it. It was my right arm.'' Once back in Bermuda, Mr. Robinson continued his love affair with the guitar and, as he has done throughout his life, he learned something from everyone he met or worked with. There were gigs with the Graham Bean group, and a memorable encounter with legendary local pianist, Mr. Lance Hayward.

"I was coming from a rehearsal with Graham one night and I heard this bass and piano and wondered where the music was coming from,'' Mr. Robinson relates. "It was Lance Hayward and Maxwell Smith at the Hayward & Hayward Studios on Court Street. After that, I was around at that studio every day.'' When Mr. Hayward invited the young man to bring his guitar along, Milton Robinson did not hesitate. Testing his prowess, the talented pianist led his admirer through a variety of songs and key changes, which he happily followed thanks, he says, to Mr. Goater's early teachings.

"You are going to need an amplifier,'' was Mr. Hayward's circumspect way of telling Mr. Robinson he wanted him to work with him.

"I remembered (music store owner) Max Lambert had an amplifier for 55, so I went straight down to the bank, bought (it) and took it back to Lance. It was one of the best times of my life. He was my musical father for sure, and those were nice days. I also got one or two jobs.'' Later, encountering "a lot of frustrations'', the aspiring guitarist left Bermuda for Toronto, where he hired "the best teacher I could find'' to further his studies.

But Toronto also proved frustrating for the unemployed musician, so when a group from Montreal offered him work as their lead guitarist, he jumped at the chance.

"That is when I really found out the facts of life,'' Mr. Robinson admits.

"It was tough in Montreal. When the winter came, it was `starving city,' and most musicians were in the same boat.'' But every cloud has a silver lining, and through his regular day job at Simpson-Sears department store, Milt Robinson met and married the love of his life, Renee. Such were the newlyweds' finances, however, that on their wedding night Mr. Robinson left the reception to play a gig that even today he remembers as "a nightmare''.

"It was a project job paying union scale, which wasn't very much, and of course the requisition had to go to the United States before I could get paid.

The band consisted of players from various musical backgrounds, and there was a fight going on between two of the saxophone players. One liked bee bop and the other liked rock. Somehow we all got through the night, but I should have stayed home with my wife!'' And more disruption was on the way. Just one month after their marriage, having moved into and furnished a new apartment, Mr. Robinson accepted a job offer in New Jersey, once again leaving his bride behind.

Then came the letter which would permanently change their lives. Mr. Hayward invited Mr. Robinson to join his quartet, working between Jamaica and the Jungle Room in Bermuda. Without hesitation, the couple put their belongings in storage and happily followed the island trail.

While jazz improvisation was Mr. Hayward's favourite music, it was calypso that put the bread and butter on the table, and so the musicians obliged, performing in shirts especially made to complement the music.

Much later, when the quartet's fortunes waned and Mr. Hayward disbanded it, Mr. Robinson formed his own trio with Maxwell Smith and Clarence "Tootsie'' Bean. In the ensuing years, Mr. Robinson has worked with numerous bass players and drummers, including Gerald Davis, Jeff Marshall, Peter Profit, Stanley Gilbert, Hubert Smith, Jr., and Bentley Burgess, to name just a few.

Known as the Milt Robinson Trio, the group played to scores of visitors in the Gazebo Room of the Princess Hotel. With its elegant decor and splendid harbour views, the venue was a magnet for those wishing to relax and enjoy good music.

Guests commonly stayed for hours soaking up the trio's silky sounds.

However, the writing was on the wall for local entertainers as hotel after hotel closed its night club facilities, and the population at large gravitated towards other forms of entertainment which did not require dressing up to sip expensive drinks. Television also took its toll.

Musicians of Mr. Robinson's calibre, however, are always in demand, and today the tall and gracious gentleman can be found in company with such fellow musicians as "Chalky'' Virgil, Howard Rego and Steve Dupres, as well as all-round entertainer Gene Steede, bringing good music to appreciative audiences in many of the Island's most attractive locations, including the Pompano Club, Grotto Bay and Newstead hotels.

When cruise ships come into St. George's, Mr. Robinson can be found giving the passengers their first taste of local music as they disembark, while weddings, receptions and other functions round out his busy schedule.

As one might expect of a first class musician who has spent long years involved in the local entertainment scene, Mr. Robinson has definite thoughts on what is -- and is not -- taking place here.

He has little patience with musicians who constantly complain about the lack of work in Bermuda, as well as those who do little to further their musical education.

"Complaining doesn't mean a thing to music because it will always be there,'' he says. "If you are stubborn enough, you will always have music. That is my attitude.'' Noting that musicians everywhere are suffering, he believes that everyone should support local entertainers. While acknowledging that they need steady employment, he also warns that "until they really work at their music it is not going to get any better''. In addition, Mr. Robinson says that the increasing use of modern electronic gadgetry is doing the musicians' cause no good, and will eventually harm their employment opportunities.

"Although it is a matter of surviving, I don't agree with musicians using drum machines in lieu of live musicians. I would much rather work with a live drummer who keeps bad time just for the human interaction. There is always a chance that you might get a night when he is keeping good time! Maybe I'm just old-fashioned, but I would rather make less money and have live musicians, because we are actually cutting our own throats by using machines.'' Looking back on his long and fulfilling career, during which he has raised two daughters, Dawn and Michelle, and a son, Dean, all of whom are musical, Mr.

Robinson has few regrets. Rather, he is filled with gratitude for all the help and opportunities he has received along the way. As for retiring, forget it! "Music is always evolving, and there are so many types to learn about,'' he enthuses. "I love the harmonies of Brazilian music, and also classical guitar. I am presently trying to learn little studies written in the 1600s -- beautiful melodies that require work to learn.

"I am never bored, and I plan to keep on doing what I do one way or another,'' he promises. "That is very important.''