Bequia as a rule woke up early and went to bed early. Well before first light I would hear people walking towards the harbor to catch the Friendship Rose, and the fishing boats went out early too. I was usually in bed by 8:00 unless it was a Thursday, Thursday night at the Frangipani was something I didn’t miss! Other than dancing to the steel drums at the Frangi I had not been to a dance until I was taken to the Old Fig Tree one memorable Saturday night.
The Old Fig Tree was a waterfront restaurant and bar not far from the Frangipani and there was to be a dance featuring a band named The Comets. I wanted to go but was reluctant to do so alone. One of my fellow school teachers offered to escort me, he lived in Paget Farm and would collect me on his way into the harbor.
That Saturday evening I put on my best dress and was ready when my friend arrived. Together we walked into the harbor, arriving at the Old Fig Tree just as the band was starting. The Comets were surprisingly good, much better than the steel band at the Frangi! They were playing under a galvanized roof and the music was very loud, I could feel the bass vibrating under my feet.
West Indians love to dance and they do it well, I felt stiff and awkward in comparison. There was no stigma attached to dancing alone, and those without partners were doing so with a natural rhythm that had me in awe. There were far more men than women, back then most young girls were not allowed to go to such dances. From the moment I arrived I was in high demand, I was certainly not going to be sitting down much! The longer I danced the more I loosened up, and soon I was moving less awkwardly.
Finally the band played their first slow song and my fellow teacher asked me to dance. OH MY! Slow dancing with him was like having sex with my clothes on! I kept trying to put a bit of space between our bodies, I didn’t know him well and in my opinion he was being far too intimate. He pressed right up to me, winding in a very sensuous way that was making me uncomfortable. Looking around me I saw that other couples were dancing in the exact same manner and that none of the ladies seemed to be objecting. No wonder parents didn’t want their young daughters attending such dances!
As the evening wore on some of the men got quite drunk. I was sitting near the bar having a drink when I heard one man say to another, “you want fo fight?”. I watched the other man think about it for a while, then he replied, “yup” and the fight was on! There had been no argument, nothing leading up to a fight, just two very drunk men deciding to have one. Very bizarre! The first man picked up one of the iron chairs and hit the other with it, and they scuffled in earnest while the band played on. This was treated as a normal occurrence, no-one tried to stop them until the owner (Geoff Wallace) decided to put an end to it. He entered the fray with a shotgun and fired a couple of shots into the galvanized roof and effectively stopped the fighting.
I had a lot of fun that night but couldn’t help thinking about bullets ricocheting off a steel roof over a crowded dance floor. It made me wonder if going to dances on Bequia would always be so dangerous!