The Day Santa Named The Island

BY JANE WATERS

When Santa Claus visits the Island every Christmas, he always brings Mrs. Claus along. She doesn’t make many business trips with her husband, but she has a special reason for returning year after year to the Beach.

This legend goes far back to a time when there were few living things on the Island. The white sand glistened for miles and miles, untouched by streets or structures. Or people. Santa, who was making his annual rounds that year, decided the uninhabited white stuff he noticed below would make a safe landing place for his sleigh so he and the reindeer could take a break. He fastened his seat belt, and turned on his twinkling lights. The eight tiny reindeer brought the heavily laden sleigh down easily. It nestled in the soft sand, a distinctly different runway from their usual snowy rest stops. Santa got out of the sleigh, loosened his belt, stuck his boot in the squeaky sand, and exclaimed to the reindeer, “Hey, we landed in Paradise.”

Donner and Blitzen snorted because the snow ball they tried to make wouldn’t stick together.

I may relocate my workshop to this Island, Santa mused. We could eliminate the woodcutter section, and add those guys to the toy making division. Think how happy the kids would be if we produced more toys than ever.

He pondered the possibility as he removed his heavy jacket and let the sun shine on his chest. We would never have to arrange for vacations, because no one would want to leave paradise. Our new work uniforms would be long shorts and t-shirts. All our raw materials could come in like magic on the water. We’d never have to thaw out the cans of paint.

Santa pulled off his heavy boots and pants and jumped into the Sound for a swim wearing only his candy striped underwear.

We would have to put up a new sign. That old North Pole sign is pretty worn out anyway. What can I name this place?

Then a Christmas light exploded in Santa’s head. He would name this romantic little Island after his beloved wife and himself. Santa Rosa Island. Santa liked the sound of the new name.

Reluctantly, he put his heavy, red suit back on, and prepared the reindeer for take off. After the worldwide delivery trip ended, and he was resting by a big open fire in his living room at the North Pole, he told his wife, Rosa, about his plan to move the entire operation to a truly, magnificent place surrounded by sparkling water. A place that was warm and cozy. Where the elves could test the water skis, yachts, fishing rods, and sailboards the year round.

“Ah, Rosa, I have found paradise,” Santa said. “A romantic place for the two of us.”

Rosa pushed her spectacles up on her nose, and Santa knew he was in trouble. She only did that when she was getting ready to yell at him about major problems like running out of Barbie dolls or drinking too much Coca-Cola.

“Santa,” she said in that awful tone of voice, “How could you play such a dirty trick on Frosty the Snowman?”

So, Rosa had the last word, Santa could never move to a place where his old sidekick, Frosty, would never survive. Santa did not move his factory to the Island.

But one starry Christmas Eve, he asked Rosa to ride with him, and he landed on the beach for a short time. Just long enough to put a small sign, “Santa Rosa Island.”

So that’s how the island got its name. And that is the reason Mrs. Claus climbs aboard the sleigh on the night Santa makes his annual visit to Pensacola Beach. After all it’s not every wife who has a whole island named after her.