Every Pony Ready - Was the 99th Chincoteague Pony Swim Worth the Wait?
Standing in mud before slack tide and rising waters. | Kitty L. / SHIROOKAMI
Well before dawn, I found myself standing in a grey swamp among an anxious crowd of 40,000, caught in a lingering storm that only yesterday could’ve easily take us all into the ocean beyond the hammocks straight ahead. The most questionable mud embedded in my toenails, yet the typical scent of the bog was noticeably absent. As imperceptibly as nearby snails climbed the surrounding sea grass, so too did dark, brackish water rise over our feet as we approached slack tide. Only a spectacle of mystical proportions could compel so many of us to stand among fiddler crabs, deprived of sleep and food. Beyond the marsh, somewhere out there, the wild and colorful Chincoteague ponies were galloping towards us as part of the 99th annual pony swim!
Lighthouse at a distance across the strait. | Kitty L. / SHIROOKAMI
You may have remembered our close encounters with the ponies of Assateague Island, specifically the National Seashore on the Maryland side, known as the Maryland herd. Despite the name, these Chincoteague ponies are derived from the same island, but from the Virginia side, and make up the much smaller Virginia herd. Unlike the Maryland herd, which roams undisturbed save that from its frequent encounters with obtrusive tourists and selfie addicts, the Virginia herd has its own guardians and protectors of sorts, most notably the saltwater cowboys that carry the Maltese cross of the Chincoteague Volunteer Fire Company while wearing garments of the Wild West.
Oldest living saltwater cowboy - at 91, he's legendary. | Kitty L. / SHIROOKAMI
The cowboys round up the Virginia herd once a year to perform medical checks and vaccinations. As part of a fundraiser, some of the herd members are auctioned off to experience life in other pastures, or simply to be returned to the herd. To all you kids and kids-at-heart dreaming of a pony, this is probably the most justifiable chance to ask for one!
Fans waist-deep in water, awaiting the ponies. | Kitty L. / SHIROOKAMI
Professional photographer (Richard) venturing far to get the best shots. | Kitty L. / SHIROOKAMI
The suspense was indeed prolonged. Some pony fans were watching at a distance from nearby Veteran’s Memorial Park, which displayed a large screen. In this area, dogs were not allowed, but it was a convenient place to camp and stay dry. At Pony Swim Lane, a handful of visitors with dogs by their sides stood by the road or the private piers just on the marsh. Others were fortunate enough to book cruises well in advance, floating in channel to get a closer view of the ponies, while some kayaked to the edge of the swamp.
Seagull observing the spectacle of human fans since 2AM. | Kitty L. / SHIROOKAMI
And then, there were those of us who, as the Applejack-esque announcer noted, were hardcore pony fans, standing in the mud since 4AM to get the best head-on view of the herd. The few. The proud. The intertidal marines. I myself was standing directly in the middle of the front lines.
Pennants in the distance marking the start line, as well as the finish line in front of us. | Kitty L. / SHIROOKAMI
Surprise pool float swim. | Kitty L. / SHIROOKAMI
After the surprise annual pony pool float swim, the race was on. As soon as the Coast Guard’s red flare was launched, the first fowl reached the shore, its herd flanked by the saltwater cowboys, egging them on by whipping water.
Saltwater cowboys watch the ponies take the plunge. | Kitty L. / SHIROOKAMI
The ponies fearlessly ran into the water, with only the tops of their heads visible. One pony, named Martha Lou, diverged from the herd and had to be guided to safety. Some ponies were faster than others, while some had determined gazes, laser-focused on reaching the shore.
Rogue pony diverging from the group. | Kitty L. / SHIROOKAMI
The herd making the swim. | Kitty L. / SHIROOKAMI
Although to some it seemed that the ponies were in distress, they were in fact swimming when currents were at their weakest. These ponies have been conditioned to withstand harsh weather and several threats of being washed into ocean currents. One might even say that this was a swim in the park for them this day.
Crowds of 40,000 watch the herd swim. | Kitty L. / SHIROOKAMI
The winner approaches. | Kitty L. / SHIROOKAMI
Splashing and whinny’ing filled the air as the first pony to make landfall was crowned with the title, Queen Neptune. Emerging from the grey water were the colorful, contrasted, brown, black, and white fur of the painted ponies, their hooves clapping into the mud and vibrant green grass.
Exhausted from the swim, the ponies and their foals ravenously grazed the sea grass before us. They mingled in the mud, galloped, and even caused a stir here and there, interacting with horses of the saltwater cowboys. The ponies were in their recovery phase before the parade to the carnival grounds. To me, they were much more demure than the Maryland herd, which were known to besiege campsites for food.
Recovery-grazing. | Kitty L. / SHIROOKAMI
A pony eyes viewers while surveying new surroundings. | Kitty L. / SHIROOKAMI
Unlike in Maryland, the fire company here in Virginia holds true to the legend that these ponies once escaped from the shipwreck of two impressive Spanish galleons in the 17th century, against other theories we previously mentioned. Seeing the ponies make the arduous swim across the channel today brings visions of their ancestors’ dramatic swim towards Assateague’s shores, wherein an alternative timeline would have their lineage forever lost in the ocean itself, and we would not be here time and time again to witness such a thing.
One of the first ponies is fascinated by the annual human-watching. | Kitty L. / SHIROOKAMI
These descendants of Misty serve as beautiful reminders of our history and of our call for nature stewardship. This year, the highest ever bid on a foal was made ($50,500), bringing the total to well over half a million dollars, the highest overall on record for the fire department. It is a wonder if that particular pony was the same one seen rounded up shortly after the initial landing. Not too long ago, the home of Misty was burned to the ground, and the Bebe ranch was sold to the Misty of Chincoteague Foundation just last year – the 99th swim and its new fundraising records are an awesome testament to legacy of the Bebe family.
On paper or even watching from the comfort of Veteran’s Memorial Park – or from home – one could easily say it’s fine to experience the event from afar. But being in the trenches with the hardcore pony lovers, seeing the herd up close, water and mud flying everywhere, people falling into the depths brought on by slack tide, getting a crab-driven pedicure for half the day, one minute away from a downpour that could one-shot your camera equipment and stamina… Priceless. It made for a sense of solidarity with the ponies, just a fraction of the daily struggles they overcome each day. In for the 100th? Count me in.
Mother and her foal grazing close to humans after the swim. | Kitty L. / SHIROOKAMI
As the ponies rested and more flocks gathered to see them up close in the pen, I left with my free mud mask from Salon Nature, knowing Stella’s old bones could not handle such a wait in the swamp and tide. Though she has had many civilized conversations with the Maryland herd, how was she to see the Virginia herd when most of the island is dog-restricted, especially the refuge? The journey continued as I was determined to find out how… On to the next dogventure as we navigate the dog restrictions of Chincoteague Island, finding a local treasure and setting out to sea once more!
Kitty and Stella ready to enjoy the pony swim week. | Kitty L. / SHIROOKAMI