Sitting under a magnificent palm tree in the immaculate grounds of his Warwick home, it is hard to imagine that when Ray (Bill) Fox was a child, times were so hard that he shared his small bed with other siblings, the house had neither running water nor an indoor toilet, and the weekly bath was taken in the back yard in a metal tub with water heated by the sun and shared by all the family.

One of many children born to his mother, Betty, Mr. Fox was taken in and raised by his grandparents, Tootsie and Mac, who had children of their own. He did not enjoy a good relationship with his grandfather, and all in all his childhood was tough and luxury-free.

Yet, through those hard times young Bill developed an inner strength that would set him on the path to better days. Unlike other children who ran free in their spare time, he sought work.

"I made up my mind that I was going to do something with my life,'' he recalls. "So at age eight I worked on Saturdays and during the summer for Chesley Foggo for ten shillings a week. He always had gardens, pigs and chickens, and he was also into construction and fishing. My cousin, Edwin Cannonier, and I helped him out on everything, including building his 27-foot boat, Tern . I really learned a lot.'' He also saved enough money to have Mickey Foggo make him a little punt, which he rowed over to Smith's Island every day to pick up his mother from work. In addition, he helped James Foggo to make rope, for which he earned one shilling and sixpence, and went turtling with Mr. Foggo, his grandfather, and Clifford Caisey.

At age 13, Bill Fox's formal schooling ended, but not by choice.

"My mother had many children, and I had to go out to work to help support the family,'' he explains. "It was hard, and I would have liked to stay in school.'' Hearing of his plight, "Bus'' Pitcher told him of a job at the US military base, where he would pull up weeds and plant grass seed in the runway areas.

"Wear long pants for the interview so you look older,'' Mr. Pitcher advised.

The ruse worked, and Bill Fox took his first step as a breadwinner for his family.

Six months later, he was offered a job as Kitchen Patrol (KP), washing dishes in the Non-Commissioned Officers' Club -- "They had no idea I was so young'' he laughs. Later, he was promoted to Head KP, and finally put in charge of Stores.

"I didn't have an education, but I was determined to get ahead,'' he explains. "I got up every morning at 5 a.m. to feed the animals before work began at 6.30 a.m., and when I finished at 3 p.m. I would go home and work on my farms. On moonlit nights I would be digging up the garden to plant fresh seeds and seedlings.'' Farms? Yes indeed. So determined was the teenager to succeed that at age 14 he rented St. David's Battery from Crown Lands for the princely sum of five shillings a week. He bought new-born calves and hand-fed them from an old mineral water bottle containing a mixture of powdered milk and water. As they grew up and were bred, he sold the milking cows for between 80 and 100 pounds each.

The acres of farmland also yielded crops of fresh vegetables, which he sold to the Piggly Wiggly store in Hamilton.

The young entrepreneur was on his way, but since augmenting his education was also part of his vision for a better life, he studied English and mathematics four evenings a week with retired St. David's schoolteacher Hilton Richardson, and Mr. Crawford at the Bermuda Technical Institute.

"I thought by keeping busy I would keep my mind occupied, and not get into trouble like others of my age,'' he explains.

With money made from selling cows and produce, plus a loan from Clarence Borden ("the Bank of St. David's''), the 15-year-old bought his first piece of land, albeit in his grandmother's name due to his age.

Also at age 15, after working at the NCO club for eighteen months and with a good track record, Bill Fox asked his boss if he and his mate Calvin Wills could have Good Friday off.

"Good Friday was our holiday, but he refused and gave the day off instead to an American and a West Indian,'' the St. David's Islander recalls. "So Calvin and I just jumped the fence and never went back. It was the best thing that ever happened to me, because I then went into construction and learned a lot.'' So much, in fact, that he has since parlayed those skills into developing the former little cottage on his Warwick property into a large, beautiful home with rentable units.

It was, however, a conversation which his mother had with Warden Pilot Capt.

Gordon which set young Bill on the career path he enjoys today.

"I was just 16 when she told him I was interested in becoming a pilot,'' Mr.

Fox relates, noting that his grandfather Jed Lambe and uncle Granville Fox were also pilots. "He took me on as a relief deckhand, and after six months sent me to Dockyard to the tug Justice.'' Old-fashioned work ethic "I was then transferred to Meyer Agency, who had both tug and line boats, until finally an opportunity arose to become an apprentice pilot with Marine & Ports.'' At age 18 Mr. Fox was assigned to the Poinciana, which sailed between Bermuda and Baltimore.

"It was my first time out of Bermuda, and as we sailed away my whole family stood at St. David's Battery waving white sheets,'' he remembers. "The Captain allowed me the privilege of sounding the horn in acknowledgment.'' Next came local channel training, when he sailed with experienced pilots, before being posted to the passenger freighter Ittersum , whose route included the Bahamas, America and Holland, returning to Bermuda every two months.

Three voyages, in particular, stand out in Mr. Fox's mind. The first, on November 16, 1967 began just four days after his wedding. On another, he received a telex congratulating him on the birth of his daughter. It would be six months before he saw her, and then only for two days. In fact, he was so upset about the conflict between family life and his professional schedule that he even contemplated suicide. On a third, he landed in jail.

"As was my custom, when we arrived in Holland I would take a train to see somewhere else during the four days we were in port. On one occasion, a Spanish crewman and myself were incorrectly advised that we didn't need travel documents to go into Germany. He was trying to get home to his wife in Madrid for Christmas, and I wanted to see Berlin.

"On the train, I tried to explain I just wanted to sightsee. An American girl signalled with her finger to her lips for me not to put up a fuss, and the Germans took the Spaniard and I away to a dungeon-like prison. All I had to sleep on was a wooden platform. I heard the Spaniard trying to explain that he was just trying to get home to his wife. Then I heard shots ring out, and I never saw or heard from him again. They kept me in jail from Friday to Monday before escorting me back onto the train to Holland at 6.30 a.m. I hated the Germans for years, but I eventually got over it.'' Finally, in January, 1969 at age 23 Bill Fox realised his dream: he became a fully fledged branch pilot qualified to work on all manner of ships following successful completion of six months' probation. It was a proud day for a man who left school at 13.

Unimpressed, however, was the Captain of the P & O liner Orsova who, when Pilot Fox climbed aboard, was aghast.

"You are too young to do my ship,'' the sea dog barked.

Undaunted, Mr. Fox showed him his pilot's licence, and offered to leave the vessel if the Captain still thought he was too young. Eventually, Pilot Warden Ian Clarke intervened by radio to tell the Captain it was Fox or nobody, so he reluctantly agreed.

"I took the ship to the Great Sound, and when it left at day's end, the Captain said to me, `Pilot, I am very sorry for what I said this morning, and whenever I come back to Bermuda I would always like to have you on my ship.'' That praise set the tone for what has been a successful career with Marine & Ports, during which now-Senior Pilot Fox has guided everything from nuclear subs to cruise ships safely through Bermuda waters with an expert hand.

The job has not, however, been without its harrowing moments, the worst of which included getting on and off the nuclear subs, and narrowly missing being crushed. Heights don't worry him, he has never been seasick, and he takes whatever comes in stride. Of all the vessels he has piloted, cruise ships remain his favourite.

"Things are a lot different now,'' he says. "It's all power steering. There is a small steering wheel, and a joy stick, and they also have auto pilot, though not when approaching ports, of course.'' Looking back on the approximately 39-year career he still loves, although admittedly not with the same passion he did as a youngster, Mr. Fox says he would do it all over again without changing a thing.

Ashore, he spends his time working on his grounds, growing vegetables, and improving his home. He also cooks, cleans, and irons his uniforms to perfection -- the latter a legacy from his days in the Bermuda Regiment.

An avid cricket fan, he once played for St. David's (and was its youngest president, briefly), Bailey's Bay, and Young Men's Social Club, and he regularly visits Test matches in Antigua, where the pace of life reminds him of Bermuda many years ago.

For years, Mr. Fox was also a regular on ZBM radio, where he discussed shipping, farming, gardening and construction. He has also been a security guard and construction worker.

"There's nothing I can't do,'' he chuckles, "and I've always had two or three jobs.'' A father of five in Bermuda, and a grandfather of seven, there is never a dull moment for the man whose work ethic has been a driving force in his life -- but never on Sundays.

And what about retirement? "Oh,'' he says cheerfully, "when that day comes I'll probably buy a taxi or something.'' A marine pilot may work from sun to sun, but Bill Fox's work is never done.