Chincoteague Pony Auction

Jill's Journal: How I love a good horse auction. I’ve probably been to more than my share in life and I still never get tired of them. In Kentucky, you can set your calendar by the auction schedule. They’re a place to see and be seen, a social event where billions of dollars have changed hands. They’re also a place where horsemen’s entire futures are determined at the fall of the gavel – a place that ruthlessly makes or breaks careers and livelihoods.

On the high end, I’ve witnessed the world’s most expensive broodmare sell (for $14 million) and seen future Kentucky Derby winners sold as yearlings. On the low end, I’ve also seen the sad scene at the stockyards where horses are sold for meat. And I’ve seen a few thousand horses --not just Thoroughbreds-- sell for somewhere in between those two extremes, including at a number of auctions where Rob and I have both bought and sold horses ourselves. Heck, I’ve even worked the sales, showing horses to prospective buyers. Yes, I absolutely love horse auctions.

But there’s absolutely nothing like the Chincoteague pony auction!

I was so looking forward to seeing this, but apparently so was just about everyone else in Chincoteague! Although we could hear everything, we didn’t see nearly as much as we would have liked – there were an awful lot of people packed into a small space. And we’re not very maneuverable with three little kids. But what we did see was still so much fun.

Young foals were half walked and half carried into the auction ring. We saw two to five young men for each foal, depending on the feistiness of each colt or filly. Each time a foal tried to make a leap for freedom (although never escaping the men’s strong grip), the audience gasped and ooohed and aaahed appreciatively.

Although the sales average was about $1,300, we saw one baby sell for as little at $375 and one sell for as high at $8,100. The down-home auctioneer was hilarious. When bidding stalled on the $375 baby, he implored, “Folks, this one’s got two ears, four legs, a tail, and everything else in between that a horse needs. C’mon now.”

It was certainly an exercise in self-control to keep my hands in my pockets and refrain from placing a bid!

In talking to some of the kind folks working the auction, I got several questions answered. We noticed every foal went through the ring, even the very youngest. It turns out all the foals are sold now, but the ones too young to leave their mamas wait until the October round-up to get weaned and picked up by their new owners.

And more importantly, we learned what a “buyback” is in Chincoteague terms (very different in the Thoroughbred world!). Here, the saltwater cowboys go through their herd and select the foals they feel most compliment the breed, the ones with the most desirable conformational traits, best colors, etc. These are selected to remain with the herd always and replenish the stock. But those babies go through the ring anyway, labeled as a buyback. Anyone can bid on them with the knowledge that the money is a donation to the volunteer fire department and the pony they “bought” is only theirs symbolically.

Our little girls sure want one of these ponies for themselves and they want one something fierce. Madelyn implored me, to the laughter of all around us, “Mommy, can’t we buy just one? It’ll be easy. We could just build a fence!”

All the adults in hearing distance chimed in with gigantic smiles, “Yes, Mommy. It’s as easy as that. Just build a fence. What’s one little pony?”