David “Cannonball” Fahie

David “Cannonball” Fahie worked at the Public Works Department for more than 30 years before retiring in 2010. He had four children, one of whom died in a car accident. Now a member of the BVI Taxi Association, Mr. Fahie spends much of his time interacting with the tourists and residents he drives around.

 

David “Cannonball” Fahie
Growing up

I am from the British Virgin Islands, from a little small village out of town called Baughers Bay. I was born on Aug. 5, 1950. I grew up here almost all my life. I went to the Alexandrina Maduro Primary School in Baughers Bay, and then I went to the BVI Secondary School in Road Town.

I’m the seventh child from a family of 10. My mother was Blanche Fahie from Virgin Gorda. My father’s family was also from Virgin Gorda. I never went to Virgin Gorda, though, until I was a grown man. I still have a large family in North Sound.

Growing up in Baughers Bay, you had to be a rough and tough guy. In those days, you had to learn to fight to survive among your mates, because people used to pick on you. You had to learn to defend yourself. I was always a husky guy, so I used to do a lot of eating.

We weren’t poor but we didn’t have plentiful either. I can recall my mother going to the fish market, buying one fish. Then she cook a fish broth so everybody could taste the fish, and that will feed all of us.

Growing up then was tough. We didn’t have life too easy most of the time. In those days, many of us didn’t have shoes to go to school: We used to get our toes burst. I don’t know if you ever had a burst toe before, but it is one of the most painful things.

St. Thomas days

After I finished school here, I migrated to St. Thomas with my uncle, who had his own bakery. The guys there used to call me Baker Boy.

My uncle used to leave me to take care of the business while he went for his church conference. He was a member of the Apostolic Faith Church. He helped to build the church there in Smith.

Back in those days, they only gave you 29 days when you visited St. Thomas. It was like you were stealing the days. At that time, I wasn’t legal, so my uncle would go to the immigration department and beg for time for me, because he was a citizen. He had that sort of power and camaraderie with the guys that worked there. I used to go and come until eventually I got my green card. I believe the card might be expired now, because I don’t go to St. Thomas like before. I came back here in 1970.

‘Looking woman’

At the time I came back from St. Thomas, I was at the stage of looking woman. I had many girlfriends. I was a little playboy, trying to grab every woman I see.

My wife, Linnet Fahie, we fell in love with each other. In 1965 I met her and never saw her again till 1970.

1965 was the first time we have Festival with a Ferris wheel. I saw her one night at the Ferris wheel. When I saw her that night, I had another girlfriend, but I snuck away and went to her. I started telling her how much I was interested in her. I didn’t see her again from that night until in 1970 on the ferry on my way back to live in Tortola.

We were surprised to see each other: We never thought we could see each other again. When we met again, it was nothing but lovey-dovey.

At that time I had my own car, so I drove to Long Bay where she was from, sometimes two or three times a week.

Sometimes when I went to visit her, her mother and father would sit in the middle of the chair: she on one end and I on the other. You couldn’t even get a little touch. Sometimes I used to have to wait until they got tired and went to their bed, then start to make a little play. We got married in 1975.

Nickname

I could recall there was a guy from Long Look — they called him Sleepy — who was a taxi man. He used to bring his car to a garage in Baughers Bay where I used to hang out. One day he sent me for something and I refused to go and he said, “You are just like a big cannonball.” He told me I was lazy, and I said, “no.” From then, all those guys started calling me Cannonball. If you ask people for David Fahie, they won’t know who you’re talking about, but if you say Cannon, they will send you here to the taxi stand.

Driving a taxi

At first, I thought it was an awkward job. Many people despised me for it. People thought because I was a supervisor at the Public Works Department, driving a taxi was a low-rated job. I looked at that as a challenge. I like when I meet people and interact with them. I like to share my experiences, especially with folks from off island.

I like telling people about the good times and the bad times. Tortola wasn’t always as blooming as it is now. Like I said before, my mother only could afford a pound of fish. That was no lie. I’m not ashamed of it, but I am not too proud of it either. God had his way and that was the way it was for us. Raising nine children wasn’t an easy job, you know.

If I had the power and could change anything, I would never grow old. I would go back to being young again, and I would do a lot of things differently. A lot of the mistakes that I made, I would do them differently.

My advice to young people now is stay focused on life and do what you could do to help people. Be yourself and don’t ever try to be anyone else. That’s about it in a nutshell.

Interview conducted, condensed and edited by Ngovou Gyang.

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