outgodelights

When Port Authority Director Brin called Patrick’s West Indian Delights an “eyesore”, he
touched a nerve. My depiction of The Old Customhouse, painted for this year’s carnival season,
adorns the roll-up door of his converted, yellow vender’s truck. But never mind my bruised
artistic temperament. Patrick Joseph, who has lived on St. John for 30 years and has served
traditional food and drink at the same location for nearly that long, seems poised to become the
latest casualty in the battle to re-invent St. John. One is hard pressed to find a place nowadays
where you can step into a genuine West Indian environment hereabouts. Slices of Texas are
fine and orgiastic crowds of drunks spilling into the streets are amusing, but neither are genuine
examples of how the majority of the islands’ people prefer to recreate. The current attempt by
VIPA to evict West Indian Delights is raising some disturbing questions.

The customers are primarily West Indian, but not exclusively. They stand around the parking lot,
lean on their cars or sit at the picnic tables and at times they get quite vocal but “there’s no
problems, no crime,” Patrick points out. Affectionately called “The St. Lucian Embassy”, the
modest eatery serves food, like chicken leg and fry fish and dispenses cold beer and drinks
almost every day and long into the night. There are the regulars, for sure. But, a good many
travelers from Tortola make the place their first stop while transiting between the islands. Patrick
says, “Everybody’s welcome. My rasta people. My Tortola people. Where they want them to go?”
The close proximity to Customs and Immigration makes the place a valuable asset to people
passing through.
Unconfirmed reports suggest that the move to oust Patrick from the lot across from the Post
Office has something to do with the parking spaces missing from the plans for Paul Hoffman’s
dockside building. The Port Authority struck a deal with the owners and “found” a couple of
slots, thus allowing for an occupancy permit. Within days, Patrick was “presented” with a letter
announcing the termination of his deal with the Authority. “They say I take three spaces. I don’t
take nothing. They give it to me,” protests Patrick, who refers to “all them good people” and the
“big officials”(now retired) who originally made the deal with him. Mr. Joseph is angry but admits
it’s not a matter of black or white. Rather, it’s all about the green.
The issue, it seems to me, returns to the question of where island development is heading.
While Patrick’s might not serve up everyone’s cup of tea, it does fill a niche that is ever
narrowing. Members of the community that lack the resources (or for that matter, the desire) to
fork over $30 for dinner and five bucks for blender drinks, want a place that suits them. But, as
greed and the stateside values that come along with outside investment make their mark on our
future, something is lost. One can’t imagine a St. John that’s a clone of St. Thomas. Or worse,
Newport with bugs. A planning guru, if we had such a thing, would surely explain the importance
of the Love City identity; an identity that is becoming increasing homogenized.
The slogan we chose for Patrick’s this July, along with the Customhouse painting, was “Know
Your History”. It’s sad that most of our visitors and a growing majority of our residents can’t recall
a time when that dilapidated building stood watch over the dock. Or when Wharfside Village was
seagrapes and crab holes. Or when everyone’s uniqueness was a cherished commodity.

- Jeff Smith