“When you have the whole ensemble, the whole dynasty down there, (on Parrot Cay, at Turks and Caicos islands) the house is just shaking; everything’s going all the time,” says Theodora (Keith's daughter). on Vogue
// Main PhotoCredits: @pattihansen/Instagram/ - Vogue//
She’s describing Richards-family gatherings on the North Caribbean island of Parrot Cay—a succession of sun-soaked beach days, fiercely competitive games of Mexican Train dominoes, and a cappella performances around the fire pit. Keith plays the benevolent patriarch, and Patti Hansen rules the roost. “You always have someone to hang out with, always have something to do,” says Theodora. “Your imagination just runs wild.”
A typical day begins around 7:00 a.m. with the group busy preparing breakfasts—avocado and tomato on toast for Ella, French toast for Orson and Theodora—everyone already in bathing suits and raring to head down to the beach. The dress code is relaxed, to the extreme. “My sister is topless all the time,” laments Alexandra. “She has the long hair to cover herself, but I’m like, ‘Come on, Theo, it’s just too early!’ ”
While Alexandra, Theodora, and Ella play tennis or badminton, Angela and her partner, Graham Whitney, may take the younger kids sailing on the Sunfish; Patti and Lucie might do yoga or get a massage. Keith likes to spend time with his grandchildren. Patti says he has “grown into” the babies but that “he really loves when he can chat with the kids and introduce them to books and reading.” As for game time, Patti wins at Scrabble, and Keith is the reigning dominoes champion—though Orson has been threatening his grandfather’s winning streak. “He’s been killing it lately!” says Alexandra.
Robin Bextor, the festival director of On Track for Summer at Windsor recalls: "It was April 1986 and I was in Antigua in the Caribbean, est of Caicos, I was, on a break after uni with some cricket-loving mates. We had very little money and were staying in a beach shack, bought tickets for just $1 for the Test match against England played at the recreation ground in the centre of St John’s (where prisoners from the local jail dressed in fatigues rolled the wicket, chickens strolled freely round the ground, and smoke wafted from hundreds of clay barbecues)."
"We were joined by some locals and even in the half-light an unmissable Rolling Stone in scruffy jeans and floppy shirt. We shared some beers and talked and played a game or two, and then the conversation turned to what we were doing the next day.
Keith did not even know there was a Test match going on, although he had been sharing a house on the island with his pregnant wife Patti Hansen and some friends for some time."
He asked if I could get him tickets, too. He especially liked the idea of sitting with the locals, having a few beers, eating fried chicken and the never ending dub reggae. He told me Jagger had said it was fun going to Lord’s and sitting in the Pavilion but he obviously liked the idea of something a bit more hip.
The next morning at the allotted hour Keith and Patti were there at the ground, we showed our cheap tickets at the turnstile, went in and chose seats on the hard wooden bleachers where we were the only white faces.
We got some beer and chicken and all was good as we watched Gower, Gooch and Botham get thrashed by Viv Richardsand co. Keith who, it turned out, did actually know a fair bit about cricket, recognised the players, especially West Indians like Michael Holding and Joel “Big Bird” Garner.
He was also very entertaining, enjoying the a bit of banter with the locals around us, in an English colonial gent sort of way, and asked me to try to keep Patti informed about the game, as “being American she was naturally slightly vague on the finer points of the game’s laws, dear boy”.
After about an hour and a number of beers, Keith said something about needing to see someone, and wandered off into the crowd at the back of the stand. He asked before leaving if I could look after his “old lady for a moment or two” and then for the rest of the day’s play we didn’t see him again.
At the end, I had to help Patti get home, as she gamely stayed on. he was totally cool about the whole thing and said it was completely in character for Keith to go walkabout. I was concerned about him being on his own, but she could not have been easier going.
When we got back, Keith was at home on the porch, beer in hand, shirtless, guitar by his side, but offered no excuse – just a cold beer or two – and then asked if we were going for a pizza and suggested we could meet in the bar later. We went, but he didn’t show.
West Indies won the Test match and the series, and two months later Patti had a beautiful daughter.
About 20 years later I met Keith, again with Patti, in New York (where I was producing a film with Eric Clapton). Keith couldn’t remember our day at the cricket, but Patti did.
Robin Bextor is festival director of On Track for Summer at Windsor Racecourse
