Published: Friday, January 16, 2004 at:8:26 PM




The Gun Creek Chronicles

Related by Poncho Harley and retold by Justin Hokin

Poncho Harley

Poncho Harley is an old man of the seas. He is only 52, but his 40-plus years on and in the waters of the BVI have weathered him with memories and given a patina to his character that belies having seen a lot of change. His is the last generation that knows “how it was,” before resorts and bare boaters and cable TV. There is no historical society on Virgin Gorda – folks like Poncho carry their island’s history.

Poncho was born in a home by the dock in Gun Creek, the North Sound settlement that marks the end of the road running east in the BVI. It is where staff and guests board the ferry to Bitter End after traversing the shoulder of Gorda Peak from Spanish Town in the west. When Poncho was a boy, there was only a footpath to the more populated west end of Virgin Gorda. Able legs and a few hours was the mode of transit to “town.” Home, at Gun Creek, was populated by a dozen or so extended families whose last names still fill the phone listings there.

At first, the locals lived simply off the land and sea—trade and commerce developed as Poncho grew up. The locals kept sheep, goats and cattle and salted the meat in those early days, having no ice or refrigeration. They also salted the great bounties of fish that the men would haul in aboard their row skiffs and fishing sloops. One Monday each month would bring a steamer from St. Thomas with basic supplies like flour and kerosene. Donkeys would carry the 98 pound sacks up the hill for a small fee to their drivers. Those who lived up on the hillside of the settlement in Gun Creek would spot the returning boats from their 400 foot perch overlooking North Sound and would come down to the dock to buy fish at 10 cents a pound. Tuna, grouper, old wife and lobster were common catch. To go along with the fresh fish, each family had its own garden of fruits and vegetables, which they harvested as needed, leaving it to stay fresh in the fields for lack of ice boxes.

Poncho as boat captain / tour guide extraordinaire

Poncho’s eyes widened as he recalled how fresh his meals were as a kid. Like all local boys, he would procure his own fish and lobster and described how easy the pickings were. South Sound lies to the south of the island’s spine at Gun Creek. Completely sheltered from the open Caribbean by a mile-long reef, its beach fronts a square mile of placid waters teeming with aquatic life. As a boy, Poncho would go there at night and wade out into the shallow flats near the reef, lantern in one hand and a steel rod spear in the other. Grouper resting among the rocks were within the spear’s reach and a smattering of lobster was always within arm’s reach. In the daytime, conchs were snatched on free dives through 10-30 feet of water. Starting in the early 60’s, these forages became profitable for Poncho and his fellow Gun Creek settlers: vacationing sailors who ventured into North Sound paid a dollar per pound for the fresh fish, lobster, and conch.

The late 60’s and early 70’s brought resort development and regular bareboaters to North Sound. The business with these tourists brought money and modernization to the settlement. The footpath to Spanish Town became a paved road. Mosquito Island’s Drake Anchorage marked the first hotel rooms on the Sound. A Norwegian shipping concern built Biras Creek Resort and was followed by a charter captain’s compound erected at John’O Point. That cluster of cottages by North Sound’s best anchorage would become Bitter End. All of this activity created jobs for the locals, customers for the fishermen, and soon thereafter, work for immigrants leaving troubled islands to the south. The canvas that rode wind on fishermen’s craft gave way to outboard engines, and was rolled away without a second look.

A utility infielder of sorts, Poncho worked as a handyman, fisherman, mechanic, ferry driver and anything else that Bitter End required in its infancy. As the resort grew, it relied upon his expertise with the boats and the lay of the land, reef, and sea to captain the excursion and supply boats. Captain Poncho’s friendliness with guests prompted his assignment to guest related runs, as ferrying supplies denied visitors of a great guide and story teller. He served as our local ambassador for many years before retiring and opening a bar in Gun Creek, 500 feet from his birthplace. He continued running the staff ferry until late last year.

As the Bitter End and I grew, Poncho was my mentor for all the skills that I sought to master of the island life. My apprenticeship ranged from driving a 52 foot twin screw vessel through a 20 foot reef cut to diving for conch and fishing for Barracuda. Most likely, it was his pour that first filled my cup with rum. Yet, it was his stories about life before we Yankees showed up that always interested me most. The world’s tropics are strung with myriad cays and turquoise waters. But to me, it’s just another palm fringed beach without the stories behind them and the fine people among them, and Poncho is one of the finest.

Read more about the history of Bitter End.