It was early morning, say 7ish, the day after Halloween. The night before our group aboard both the Maples Cookie and Fly-Bye attended a huge Halloween party at Foxy’s Beach Bar in Great Harbour on Jost Van Dyke in the British Virgin Islands. I jumped in the dingy with Castaways Mike and Lorrie and we motored over to Great Harbour from our anchorage in White Bay. They needed to grab a few things for breakfast, I needed to grab a few photos. I had no idea that saying yes to this trip to go ashore would turn out as special as it did.
Great Harbour, Jost Van Dyke BVI
We tied up to the dingy dock at the western edge of the bay and I slowly walked down the dirt road, not another soul in sight. On one side you have a small beach, and the other is rustic beach bars and shops. A perfect Caribbean setting. I start shooting photos of the unique buildings, hammocks, chickens, and anything else that you Castaways might find interesting.
After about 15 minutes I get to the end of the road where Foxy’s Beach Bar sits. Just the night before there was music blasting and hundreds of people all dressed up in various Halloween costumes. Fast forward a few hours and all the people are gone, but the sound of music still streams out of the bar. I investigated the source of the music and found a man sitting on a bar stool slowly strumming a 6-string while singing in a rough island voice. That person was Foxy.
I walked around taking a few more photos around the bar, then focus the camera on Foxy himself. As I start to film a short video, which you can see below, his song changes. The lyrics speak of a man with a camera, taking photos of him while posing. I chuckle as I’m sure he has a song and joke for any situation. Even one with a guy taking pictures of him.
After this short video I walk up and shake Foxy’s hand, thanking him for the fantastic party the prior night. We talk for maybe a minute, I thank him again, then leave him to his music and the peaceful setting.
I start my walk over the hill back to White Bay. The entire time I thought to myself how lucky I was to have met and listened to Foxy play in such a quiet, personal setting. It was just him, me, an empty bar, and a guitar. I’m sure I was just another tourist with a camera to him, but to me it was a unique experience that deserves its own story.
If you have an interesting Foxy story I would love to hear about! Leave a comment below or post it on the RumShopRyan Facebook page.
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