foxy06

For 32 years, sailors, wooden boat enthusiasts and curious tourists have flocked to Jost
Van Dyke for Foxy’s Wooden Boat Regatta. The old fleet of graceful classics has dwindled as
of late but an influx of go-fast Puerto Rican boats has added an exciting new aspect to the
legendary event. This past Memorial Day Weekend saw some old rivalries re-newed, some
new ones formed and some beautiful sailing craft of all sizes enjoying perfect conditions.

Legends are made by combining equal amounts of character, substance and showmanship
and the Fox is truly the master. Of course, his famous Tamarind Bar has changed over the
years. The food is tastier and more plentiful, the service is prompter and more capable, the
compound has tripled in size. Tess and Fox still personally manage the operation, which,
these days, requires of a lot of hugging and handshaking and photo-taking. Every
bareboater returning to the island on his second cruising vacation expects to be recognized.
To create a legend that’s the way you have to make him feel.

Many of us remember when there were no cars, no electricity and no running water on Jost.
The days are long gone since Albert Chinnery was the Queen’s representative, with his
shirttail un-tucked and a Heinekin in his mitt. It seems almost absurd to step aside to allow a
taxi to pass or to watch a play-off game on TV. It’s no big deal to pay by credit card or to be
given a restaurant’s web address. But legends are made of something else: friendship. And it’
s that element that makes the Wooden Boat Regatta so special.

Now that Captain Kevin has flown north to drive Ducks around historic Boston Harbor, table
#1 at Mooie’s is manned by just Aska and me. Everybody should recognize my friend,
Denfield Aska, as a former ferryboat mate and long-time Cruz Bay resident. Most people think
his name is Oscar, and he responds politely anyway. Saturday night around eight o’clock, we
decided to pay JVD a call and see what was going on at Foxy’s.

It sea was flat, the night dark but starlit and the passage was easy and uneventful. I don’t
know how many years it’s been since Aska stepped ashore at Great Harbour but many
people greeted him like visiting royalty. After a stop at Baba’s, we strolled down the beach to
find the Fox. There was a good crowd drinking and dancing in the sand and we plopped
ourselves down to listen to the rock ‘n blues sounds of Cruise Control from Tortola. Foxy
came over to join us and he and Aska talked for a long time about old adventures, old friends
and times gone by. A smile spread across my friend’s face as the years faded away and
memories became real once again. I don’t suspect that Aska has listened to much Stevie Ray
Vaughn but he sure enjoyed himself that night, as the band played under the stars.

If you ever want to spice up a party, invite a huge contingent of Puerto Ricans. Fajardo
boasts a growing number of very serious, very good sailors and it’s these organized,
sponsored racing teams that have injected the most excitement in local wooden boat
competition. Their unusual rigs make a spectacular sight. Their shore-side revelry makes a
boisterous racket. I envy their ability to happily drink themselves to blotto-ness on the eve of
a big match race and then perform like Olympians.

The US Virgins were modestly represented by those few wooden boats that remain. There
was a close duel between Pepper and Peace Pipe. Noticeably absent was Penelope. Names
like True Love, Rob Roy, Sandavore, Hirondelle and Tiger Maru are but vague memories and
names on little brass plaques. There are perennial trophies galore; nearly enough for every
entrant. For the official results you must read a more sports-minded article than this. In my
opinion, the real winners were the spectators and the old dear friends that came together at
Foxy’s Tamarind Bar.

- Jeff Smith