Croft seeks support to bring Rocky Point Corkscrew coaster to RI

“I remember when you went up the first hill, you were anticipating ‘Oh my God,’ but then that first dip was like nothing,” says 42-year-old bank employee and mother Croft. She is currently racing against a November 1 deadline to buy back a piece of Rhode Island history: The Corkscrew roller coaster.

The ride, a custom-built marvel from the 1980s, is currently located at the Wild Waves Theme and Water Park in Federal Way, Washington. As The Boston Globe reported, that park is closing its doors on November 1, leaving the coaster for sale. Croft is attempting to rally public and political support to bring the ride back to its birthplace in Warwick, Rhode Island, though she faces a steep climb in funding and logistics.

The high cost of nostalgia

Bringing The Corkscrew home isn’t as simple as writing a check. While Westin Petree, director of sales and marketing for Premier Parks, stated there is no official asking price, the coaster’s history suggests a significant investment. The Washington park originally purchased the ride at auction for $850,000 back in 1996.

Croft used TikTok to find allies, sharing archival footage of the original Rocky Point Amusement Park that has garnered thousands of views. However, the digital enthusiasm hasn’t yet translated into a war chest. A Change.org petition she launched has attracted thousands of followers on social media but has only resulted in 12 verified signatures and $50 in donations.

The economic reality is a hard pill to swallow for those hoping for a quick revival. Croft has reached out to casinos, malls, and state leaders, including Governor Dan McKee. The response from the local government has been a firm “no.” Warwick Mayor Frank Picozzi, who grew up with the park’s magic, admitted the nostalgia is real but the budget is non-existent.

“The city can’t get involved in buying an amusement ride and opening it somewhere because it would cost a fortune,” Picozzi said. “We just don’t have the resources to do that.”

Engineering a 42-year-old giant

Beyond the purchase price lies a massive engineering hurdle. The Corkscrew was built in 1984 by Arrow Dynamics, a firm that revolutionized the industry by using pen, paper, and mathematics long before computer-aided design (CAD) became the standard. This “analog” origin makes the ride a collector’s item, but it also makes it fragile.

Moving the coaster would require it to be dismantled and “chopped into pieces,” similar to how it was transported to Washington in the 1990s. According to Sean Randall of American Coaster Enthusiasts (ACE) Northwest, this process could jeopardize the ride’s structural integrity and future safety. Only about 15 Arrow rides have ever been moved.

Despite the risks, ACE Northwest has expressed a willingness to help. If Croft or another party can secure the purchase, the organization’s preservation board has indicated they would be open to providing financial assistance specifically for the relocation efforts.

A world that no longer exists

For many in the Ocean State, Rocky Point is more than just a collection of rides; it’s a sensory memory. Jessica Gardner, a Warwick native and actress known as “Jessica the Theme Parkette,” described a “pilgrimage” to Washington to ride the coaster—now painted yellow and renamed “Wild Thing.” For Gardner, the ride was a visceral connection to her late mother, a fellow coaster lover.

But there is a divide between the emotional pull of the past and the practicality of the present. Some of Croft’s followers have offered a sobering perspective, suggesting that she is chasing a world that simply doesn’t exist anymore—a pre-smartphone era where a local amusement park was the undisputed center of community fun.

The original park closed in 1995, and the land sat idle for decades before reopening as Rocky Point State Park in 2014. Today, the site is designated for “passive recreation.” Instead of the screams of riders on the Corkscrew or the House of Horrors, visitors now find markers indicating where the rides once stood.

The gamble on a tourist draw

Croft argues that the coaster isn’t just a relic, but a potential economic engine. She envisions a revitalized hub featuring the ride, a clam shack, a gift shop, and a museum to draw visitors back to the area.

The tension here is between the state’s current vision for the land—quiet, natural beauty—and Croft’s vision of a loud, thrilling destination. To make this work, Croft doesn’t just need a buyer; she needs a location. With the city of Warwick opting out of the “amusement park business,” the coaster’s future depends on a private philanthropist or a commercial partner willing to take a massive gamble on nostalgia.

As the October deadline looms, the question remains whether the collective memory of a “wild” ride is enough to overcome the cold mathematics of modern insurance, safety regulations, and municipal budgets.

“Let’s bring The Corkscrew home,” Croft insists. “This is where it was built. This is where it belongs.”