Jenna explained how the land lease worked and how the Chincoteague Fire Company took care of the ponies.
“But how do they keep the herd to one hundred fifty ponies?” Carson asked. “Don’t they have babies?”
“They sure do. Since they have to keep the herd number limited, that means they can’t keep all the new foals. So each year in July those foals are auctioned off during our Pony Penning Days.”
“I heard about the Pony Swim,” Mrs. Jackson said. “Is that the same thing?”
Mila shifted in the kayak. “We saw pictures of it in one of the stores.”
“As many as forty thousand people come to the island the last week in July to see the ponies swim across the channel from Assateague to Chincoteague for the auction. But before that can happen, the ponies on the refuge have to be rounded up. We call the people who do this the saltwater cowboys. Many of them are from the fire company, and it’s considered a privilege to participate in the penning and Pony Swim. They have to earn the right.”
“Are they on horseback?” Carson asked.
“Yep. And they’re expert horse people. They not only have to round up the ponies, but they also have to get them safely across the channel to Chincoteague, where the auction takes place. We’re talking a hundred fifty ponies plus sixty to seventy foals.”
“Sounds like a lot of chaos,” Mr. Jackson said.
“Oh, it’s something else. My friend Tyson is a saltwater cowboy—fourth generation, in fact. They have to get all those ponies through marsh and mud, and it’s extremely stressful. The cowboys worry about the ponies getting injured or killed—stallions can be a real handful. He’s told me when they finally get the ponies to the swim site, right over there”—she pointed toward the narrowest part of the channel—“and all the ponies are safe and accounted for, the relief is immense.”
“Do the ponies really swim?” Mila asked.
“They sure do. Even the foals can swim. In fact, the first foal to swim ashore each year is dubbed King or Queen Neptune and is raffled off to a lucky winner later that day.”
Mila gave her parents a beseeching look. “Aw, can we come back in July?”
“Unfortunately not,” Mrs. Jackson said. “But it does sound pretty amazing.”
“You said you’d tell us how the ponies got their names,” Carson said.
“After the ponies swim ashore on Chincoteague, they’re led through town and end up at the carnival grounds, and that’s where the foals are auctioned off. The average auction price is around four thousand. But...” She paused dramatically. “Since the herd needs to be replenished, some of the foals are auctioned with the stipulation that they’ll return to Assateague Island with the rest of the herd.These are called buyback ponies. And those who purchased those ponies get naming rights.”
“But they don’t get to keep them?” Carson asked.
“Nope, those foals get to go home with their mamas.”
Mila grinned. “Aw, I like that.”
“So do I—as do a lot of other folks. That’s why our buyback ponies fetch the highest price at auction, averaging sixteen thousand. But we’ve had them go as high as fifty.”
Mrs. Jackson’s eyes widened. “What do they do with the proceeds?”
“They use some of it for veterinary care of the ponies and some to keep the fire company running. It helps pay for the trucks, equipment, even the building. And some of it goes toward community scholarships.”
“That seems like a great business model,” Mr. Jackson said.
“It is. But to the fire company and even the islanders, the ponies are much more than business assets. We have an emotional bond with them and a strong desire to take care of them and make sure they’re around for many more generations.”
“I want to purchase a buyback pony,” Mila said.
Mr. Jackson grinned at his daughter. “If you find sixteen grand lying around, it’s going into your college fund, young lady.”
Mila rolled her eyes. “Oh, Dad.”
Chapter 8
Jenna was going to feel this tomorrow. Her quads strained from the weight as she pulled the last kayak from the water. She’d done four tours today. But sore muscles aside, she was joyful and energized by the conversations and physical activity.
This sure hadn’t turned out to be the day she’d expected. She hadn’t had time alone and she hadn’t spied Dream among the grazing bands of ponies. Jenna was tired, but it was the good kind of tired. The kind she hadn’t experienced in a while.
