It started in the cool hours before dawn, and by the time it was over near noon, thousands had poured into Frederiksted to take part in the annual tradition of J’ouvert, an eagerly awaited part of the Crucian Christmas Festival.
At about 5 a.m. Wednesday, while the sky was still dark, the sound of a drum could be clearly heard for blocks around the V.I. Police Station at Hannah’s Rest.
That single drum soon became a chorus of drums mixing together and playing with a rhythm. As the first blush of dawn began painting the eastern sky a bright pink, other instruments joined in, mixed with the sound of electronic equipment being tested but the drums still predominant. And rising above all that was the excited babble of a growing crowd converging on the intersection of Queen Mary Highway and Hannah’s Rest Road.
As the sun broke over the horizon and sent its first rays down onto the western end of St. Croix, the music broken open full blast, and J’ouvert was on.
For those unfamiliar with St. Croix and Crucian culture, J’ouvert, features bands riding the backs of flatbeds, playing as the trucks roll through town, drawing people into the street to dance. It’s sort of like the old story, “The Pied Piper of Hamlin Town,” only with no rats and lots of amps and speakers. And oh, did the dancers respond to the piper’s call Wednesday, flocking from every corner to frolic through Frederiksted.
With the UMB Soldiers, Stylee Band, The Fabulous Stroka Band, Daddy Jones & Crew, Fusion Band and Xtreme Band supplying plenty of volume, the swelling crowd provided the rest. The pulsing, driving rhythms of the competing bands and the tightly packed crowd of celebrants created a highly charged atmosphere ripe with energy and a frank sexuality that drove many of the dancers.
As the bands started up Hannah’s Rest towards town they were followed by hundreds of revelers. By the time they had reached Claude O. Markoe Elementary, it had grown to more than 1,000, and was picking up steam. As the mass of gyrating, bouncing humanity turned down into Frederiksted and into the narrower channel of King Street, it became impossible to count the dancers weaving in and out among the slowly moving trucks. And also irrelevant—the streets were full, the music was pounding, the rhythms infectious and the fun inescapable.
The sun was almost overhead as one by one the trucks rolled past Fort Frederik and into the festival village area, ending their part in J’ouvert. But the crowds following weren’t ready to quit, and the tide kept rolling back to the remaining trucks until the last band had played its last note and hung up its guitars. J’ouvert was over for the year.
