Yes, Virginia, Santa Claus Lives in Coral Bay

Originally published in the St. John Sun Times

In the December issue of Caribbean Travel & Life there is an ad for the magazine depicting a barefoot Santa Claus in shades, sack full of gifts on his back, stepping off a 15-foot skiff into crystal clear blue sea.

To any northerner, this is the image of the quintessential Caribbean Christmas: Traditional and familiar, all jolly and red, set against a nice tropical background with plenty of palm trees. The only thing white Bing could sing about here is the sand.

The man in the photo is Refrigerator George, a St. John resident for two decades and a dead ringer for St. Nick. We are sitting at the bar at Island Blues. It is a beautiful evening. The Christmas Winds are blowing across Coral Bay. Santa is drinking vodka and club soda with a splash of cranberry. I buy him a round and we make a date to talk about his alter ego.

George began playing Santa shortly after he arrived on island and “got the color change in life. I haven’t always been this color,” he reminds me, winking and pointing to his white hair and beard.

A veteran of the U.S. Navy and the Coast Guard, George found himself being recruited again, this time to dress up in a Santa suit and entertain at Cruz Bay Lumberyard’s annual Christmas party for employees and their families.

George agreed, but Santa was nervous. He didn’t quite know what to expect, being a Midwesterner in a new culture, but he quickly discovered that “kids are kids.”

“The looks on the kids’ faces. The kids make Christmas for me,” George says.

Santa’s first gig was a smashing success. “You might as well keep the suit,” the Lumberyard owners told him at the end of the night.

Since then George has played Santa every year, making as many as 11 appearances a season. (One year he had to make his rounds with a black eye—from a work injury, not a brawl, I am assured. “I told the kids I got kicked by a reindeer’s hoof,” he laughs.) He visits students at Pine Peace School and is the star of the Gecko Gazebo’s Pancake Breakfast with Santa at Mongoose Junction.

George is in the air conditioning and refrigeration business by trade, and also keeps busy at Keep Me Posted, a mail and communications center at the Coccoloba retail complex in Coral Bay. George has been in Coral Bay since 1989 when he sailed his boat to Hurricane Hole to ride out Hugo and decided to stay. He’s now a regular fixture around town.

Moe, the co-owner of Skinny Legs, tells a great Santa story.

There’s a little boy named Michael who comes to St. John every winter with his family. Michael is five or six. It’s January and Michael and his family stop in Skinny Legs for lunch. George is sitting at the bar, dressed in jeans and flip-flops.

Moe taps George on the shoulder and says, “In five minutes, turn around and wave to me at that table back there.”

Moe sits down at Michael’s table and asks how everybody’s Christmas was.

“Michael,” Moe says. “Did you ever wonder what Santa does when Christmas is over? Look over there.”

Michael looks over toward the bar just in time to see George turn around, smile and wave, then turn back to the bar.

Michael’s jaw drops.

“Santa hangs out at Skinny Legs,” says Moe.

The next year, Michael and his family make their annual visit before Christmas. Moe gets the skinny from the little boy’s parents. (“He’s six now. He’s been good all year. He just started playing soccer.”)

Moe relays the info to George, and Santa goes to work.

“Hi Michael!” he booms, as the wide-eyed child stares, speechless. “How are you? Remember me? I hear you’ve been good all year. How’s soccer going?”

We don’t know how old Michael is now but we’re pretty sure he still believes in Santa Claus.

George’s blue eyes twinkle as he talks about what, for him, is the true spirit of Santa: The KATS program. Kids And The Sea pairs young people ages eight to 18 with experienced sailors who pass on their passion for the sea while teaching sailing and seamanship skills.

George got “roped in” one Saturday morning to help out and ended up hooked. He worked with kids aboard his sailboat, Dream Tyme (named for the Aboriginal belief that our dream state is an alternate reality), and his crew became known as the Dream Team, competing against young sailors from neighboring islands. Any money George makes playing Santa goes to KATS.

Far from his own kids and grandkids, George likes the camaraderie of the islands at Christmas, especially when friends and extended families “raft up” their boats, creating big, floating holiday parties. Born in Boston, raised in Iowa, he does not miss snow. (“Great to play in, not so great to work in,” he says.)

When he suits up this December, he’ll have three Santa outfits to choose from, “ranging from cheap to really nice.”

“The elves bought me a new suit two years ago,” George says. “One with boots.” Before the boots, Santa wore flip-flops. “I told the kids Santa doesn’t need boots when there’s no snow,” he says.

George won’t say who donated the new suit. Santa was sworn to secrecy.

I ask George if he has any secret, any story about himself that his neighbors might be interested to hear.

He shakes his head, saying everybody already knows everybody else’s business.

“Santa knows if everybody’s been bad or good, and that goes for kids of all ages—the adults as well as the kids,” George says.

“It’s easy for Santa around here.”