The 1976 Brewery Protection Act

A couple of our first trips to the Virgin Islands to charter a sailboat were with my former sister-in-law Deb and her husband Stan.  My mother wasn't real happy about us being friends with a former in-law.  She is all for her family and if you hurt one of them then you are on her black list for a long time. 

Stan and Deb were fun to go with.  A little on the wild side that pushed the limits Carole and I had.  Stan is a great mechanic.  If it is broke he can fix it.  If he has never seen it he can still fix it.  One trip he rebuilt the carburetor on the outboard while bouncing around in the dingy.

We had some great times but Stan was a prankster.  Always pulling something and Carole is so gullible he had lots of fun with her. 

That was back in our serious beer drinking days. For some reason we decided to go down the south side of St John.  There isn't anything along that side of the island and few charter boats went there.  We discovered we were out of beer and headed up into Coral Bay to buy beer.  Coral Bay needs to be on your bucket list.  It is known as the place where people go when they find Key West too restrictive.  Coral Bay has several bars but no grocery stores; they are on the other side of the island.  We are desperate and buy a couple of six packs at bar prices to get us back into St. Thomas.  That hurt to pay those kind of prices but a person has to do what a person has to do.  Or if you are going to be stupid you better be tough.  And now you know where that expression came from. 

When we got back into the harbor the next day and starting packing we found two cases of beer stored behind some stuff in a compartment on the boat.  We are mad, mostly at ourselves for not checking there and for having any beer to enjoy on the way back to the harbor.  There was a case of Budweiser (mine) and a case of Amstel Light (Stan's).  I decide to leave the case of Bud to the dock boys, maybe they will remember us next trip and be extra nice.  Stan says hell no you can't buy Amstel Light at home and am taking it with me.  I think it is a bad idea but if are going to be stupid.... 

Stan and Deb are divers and carry a lot of gear to the islands (well it probably wasn't any more that what is required to keep you alive for 30 minutes under the water).  Part of their dive gear is a big expensive camera that goes in the dive bag.  Stan just puts the beer in the dive bag with all the other stuff and away we go to the airport.  Well you know, just saying, beer isn't weightless.  So the dive bag is over the limit and Stan has to fork out an additional $25. 

At that time St Thomas didn't have a customs office.  The airport was a WWII quasi hut with no A/C but several bars.   (It was really easy back then to sail between islands.  No one cared which country you were in, you were just in the islands.)  All of the flights went thru San Juan and that where customs took place.  Your bags came out on a belt and you picked them up walked thru customs and put them on another belt.  To say the customs guys were lax would be an understatement.  They were able to profile people back then and as long as you look like guy and his wife on a vacation. They left you along.  Now if you had too many gold chains or miss babe was a little too hot looking they went thru your bags from top to bottom.  Carole and I clear with no problems.  Deb come thru in a couple of minutes but no Stan.  Stan is waiting for the dive bag.  All the bags are finally off the belt and no dive bag.  He comes on thru but is worried about the bag.  He says the guy from American Airlines tell him "no problem man" them drunks at St Thomas do it all the time.  Your bag will come on the next flight and the airline will deliver it to your house.  He isn't real happy with that answer.  What if them drunks get his camera and just sell it in Coral Bay.  The camera was expensive and probably past what he could comfortably spend in those days.

The next day I call Deb and ask if she heard anything from the airline.  She says not a word and that camera is beyond what the airline will pay if it is lost. 

It is payback time!

I call my friend Mike Callahan.  Now Mike and my dad are good friends also and I know of the stunts they have pulled on each other. I ask Mike to call Deb and tell her he is a customs agent and give her a hard time about the beer.

So Mike calls and introduces himself as a customs agent in Atlanta.  He asks if she has just returned from a trip and where did she go. Deb has a bubbly personality and she tells him a lot more than he asks for.  He asks if she enjoyed the trip and were the customs agents friendly.  So she tells him how wonderful sailing was in the islands, how beautiful the water is and customs agents were just great.  Then Mike drops the bomb.  "Let's not kid ourselves this is not a courtesy call.  You are in violation of the 1976 Brewery Protection Act.  We have been having a lot of problems with people violating this law and we are going to make examples of violators. You are to appear in Federal Court in Atlanta on August 11th."  You could have a pin drop across the phone line. The bubbly conversation is gone.  All answers were yes sir, no sir, thank you sir. 

Mike calls me and tells me I need to call her and tell her this is a joke because she has freaked out.    It is the first day back at work I am busy and it takes an hour or more before I call.  When I do, the first thing out of her mouth is "Oh my god Robert we are going to prison".  I asked “Why are you in violation of the 1976 Brewery Protection Act? “ She knew she had been had and I got a cussing.  In between the calls she had talked to Stan, they knew they were on the way to prison.  What was going to happen to the kids?  Who would take care of them?  A great trip had become a disaster.  They were scared.  Their life was passing before their eyes. Stan was trying to get in touch with his congressman. 

Paybacks or revenge can be pure hell on you sometimes but the can also be very sweet and make great stories to tell for the rest of your life.