Sun, sand and the king

It has been 35 years since the first king of the Virginia Beach Neptune Festival strode out of the Atlantic, from a military landing craft, and was greeted by event supporters on the beach.

It began a tradition in which locals celebrate the end of the summer tourism season, as the kings, princesses and tritons rule over a host of events from concerts to sports to fireworks to what has become the signature event, the North American Sandsculpting Championship. The festival's high point arrives - the Boardwalk Weekend.

At the Oceanfront, quaint family lodges have given way to a wall of towering hotels, and the festival has helped to change September from a ghost land into a busy part of the shoulder season. The festival hasn't been all smooth sailing; there have been growing pains that are now fond memories and funny stories.

The creators were ambitious, starting big and fine-tuning as they went.

"There were just so many events," said Nancy Creech, a volunteer the first year. "We didn't know what was going to fly, what people were going to enjoy. So we did everything we could think of."

The first year's program describes a late-September, 10-day, 60-plus event-filled festival scattered around the city. The Pembroke area hosted the grand parade of the four held in 1974. There also was a soap box derby rally at Mount Trashmore, a horse show and rodeo at Princess Anne Park, concerts at high schools and Virginia Wesleyan College, bicycle races in Green Run Circle, a handball tournament at Red Wing Park and a sailing regatta in Broad Bay.

Now, the festival stays focused at the Oceanfront.

The first 20 years Creech served as a volunteer and then chairman of the festival's board. Since 1993 she has been overseeing the event as president of Virginia Beach Events Unlimited, a nonprofit organization that produces the festival.

She hung flower baskets that first year from the light poles around the Pembroke area before the parade. She also remembers that year's seafood feast on the Boardwalk. About 10,000 or so people were expected. Many times more showed up.

"It was huge," Creech said. "They came and they brought coolers, and they filled up their coolers because it said all-you-can-eat. Of course, then we ran out of food and that made everybody very unhappy."

And what did they learn?

"Well, we don't have seafood feasts any longer," she said.

It was in 1983, Creech remembers, that a storm threatened the festival's big weekend. It was Tropical Storm Dean, and that year's king was Dean Lee.

"So we said, 'OK, Dean Lee, it's your job to go down and deal with this.'

"He went down on the beach and waved his arms around and said, 'Rain, rain, go away. It's not your time, it's mine,'" Creech said.

And it did.

The following year a storm hit on Boardwalk Weekend. They had the parade anyway, Creech said, and everyone got soaked. The princesses had to attend a ball that evening, so their gowns were hung in the hotel's hallway, and everyone gathered all the hair dryers they could find.

"We dried all the dresses with the hair dryers. The dresses didn't come out looking wonderful, but they were dry and the festival went on."

Creech credits the idea for the festival to Richard Kline and Fred Napolitano Sr.

It was 1973 when Kline, president of the Virginia Beach Chamber of Commerce at the time, felt a need for an event to bring people together and gain an identity for the sprawling population.

He knew the city and chamber would have to work hand-in-hand to pull it off and remembers asking real estate developer Napolitano to head the festival.

"He was really the inspiration behind it," Kline said. "Fred did a very good job the very first year getting the bands together and the floats for a parade."

"That first year there had been nothing like it in Virginia Beach," he said. "Most of the people who participated had done nothing like it before. It was something to try out and see if it would work."

He said it may be time to spread some of the events around the city again, including at the many venues at Town Center.

One of Kline's top memories of the festival was when he served as its second king. A fake beard was pasted onto his face.

"My face was broken out for maybe six, eight, 10 weeks after they pulled the beard off."

The kings were asked to grow their beards after that.

Napolitano remembers heading down to New Orleans, on his own money he pointed out, to get ideas of getting the police and fire departments involved and what might be best to offer. Here at the beach, he found that not everyone was as enthused as he was.

"The innkeepers and restaurant people at the beach front were pessimistic," he said. "They didn't think it was going to work, but as you see today, you can't get a hotel room during Neptune weekend."

Serving as the festival's fourth King Neptune, Napolitano was crowned by honored guest Elizabeth Taylor.

His grand parade was in the Pembroke area, and he had to carefully balance himself on the float while wearing a handmade cape and crown, in his hand, a recently painted wooden trident.

At the end of the parade, "There was yellow paint all over my hand," he said. "But it was great. They stopped traffic on one side of Virginia Beach Boulevard and everybody was waving. Everybody got into a festive mood. Everybody got into this make-believe world of festivities."

Sand castle-building competitions began the first year, but were limited to children and businesses divisions. Soon it became the marquee event and now attracts master sand sculptors from around the world competing for more than $40,000 in cash prizes.

Creech said that volunteers have always been at the heart of the festival, and there are probably more than 1,000 involved this year. She estimates the festival's first-year budget being $136,000. This year's, about $1 million, is made up mostly by city and business sponsorships. She said the festival generates about $18 to $19 million in economic impact along with $500,000 to $750,000 in taxes and $150,000 for nonprofit organizations.

The budget for 1995 could have used a few dollars to cover pain and suffering for some of the sand castle competitors.

Creech said that the trouble occurred about halfway through the multiday competition when four of the seven entries in the masters division were wiped out.

"Every morning the city's parks and recreation department goes out with their machines and smooths over the beach and cleans it and gets it all nice and pretty," she said. "One year they smoothed over all the sand castles that were in the process of being built. That was pretty difficult. That was pretty distressing."

So what was a festival to do?

"I think we had a day and a half left, and they went in and built what they could and instead of giving prizes that year we just divided the money up between all of them."

The festival must go on.

Roy Bahls, (757) 446-2351, roy.bahls@pilotonline.com