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Front Row Seat

In 2002 while touring with a group of educators along Hatteras Island, renown coastal geologist Stan Riggs mentioned the annual erosion rate along North Rodanthe at 14 to 16 feet. Living on the edge, I’d seen it happening, especially after a groin was built at Oregon Inlet in 1989. More recently the issue has gotten lots of publicity and we’ve become a poster child for beach erosion.

My last blog entry addressed a certain row of houses collapsing into the surf. It’s a predictable yet sad spectacle. When the house called Front Row Seat went down on September 24th, I photographed what was left. Formerly known as Fric, the mess it left was in retrospect, avoidable. Dare County should have never issued the building permit in the first place.

Other rental beach houses fall (pun intended) into the same category. The pink and aqua-green McMansions on the left were built in 2007 and permits issued after objections to them being constructed. I took this photo in 2012. Now a decade later they’re closer to the brink.

On this ever-changing barrier island, the ocean isn’t the culprit!

Fric and Frac

In 1998 a man with 2 oceanfront lots on the north end of Rodanthe had an idea to build two fairly similar cottages side by side, one called Fric and the other Frac. When he applied for his permits, building inspector Elvin Hooper denied them because the plans didn’t meet legal setback rules from the last line of vegetation. As a result the applicant appealed to the planning director and county commissioners. Despite the shore’s high erosion rate, they granted him a variance and instructed Elvin to issue the permits.

This photo was taken a year later as Hurricane Dennis spun offshore and wreaked havoc on north Rodanthe. As a result several structures went down, but Fric and Frac somehow survived its first year. 

Now 25 years later, attempts to protect the oceanfront continue to be futile.

The two houses in the foreground are the latest to go down, strewn all over the place.

The houses formerly known as Fric and Frac are standing dubiously as other houses nearby are also condemned. They may be next to litter our once pristine seashore.

For Valor

A hundred and six years ago today, one of the most daring rescues in Coast Guard history occurred. August 16, 1918 during World War l, the British tanker Mirlo exploded offshore after being targeted by a German U-boat. The crew at Chicamacomico Coast Guard Station launched their 25-foot surfboat offshore to where the Mirlo, loaded with fuel, was an inferno. Despite the danger, Keeper John Allen Midgett and 5 Surfmen maneuvered among the flames. Miraculously, they rescued 42 out of a crew of 51 and brought them to shore.

As a result, Captain John Allen Midgett, Zion Midgett, Arthur Midgett, Prochorus O’Neal, Clarence Midgett, and Leroy Midgett received highly prestigious awards.

All six men were decorated with United States Gold Lifesaving Medals.

In 1921, King George V of Great Britain bestowed specially minted Gold Lifesaving Medals to each of them.

July of 1930 the same lifesavers were awarded the American Cross of Honor. At the time only 11 had ever been given. Six of them belong to those men at Chicamacomico.

 

Captain John Allen Midgett was also presented a silver cup by the British Board of Trade.

As a past board member and president of Chicamacomico Historical Association, I kept personal photographic records of events at the station over many years. I photographed these awards in 1993, when we displayed them in celebration of the 75th anniversary of the Mirlo Rescue.

For a detailed account of this heroism go here:

https://chicamacomico.org/mirlo-rescue/

Incoming Tide

Summer season has peaked and there’s plenty of activity on Hatteras Island. It seems our beaches are being enjoyed by more visitors than ever.

Looking north from the deck of the Rodanthe Pier recently, I noticed a distinct line drawn in the sand from a high tide. Beachgoers almost seemed defiant, setting up right next to it. Occasionally a wave would wash a bit higher, causing  groups to retreat.

With more oceanfront cottages collapsing into the sea lately, I saw some symbolism here. The south view from the pier illustrates a more serious issue. I can understand folk’s desire for a castle in the sand, but get too close and eventually there’s hell to pay.

Out of Order

Since being constructed in the sixties, Rodanthe Pier has long been a vantage point during  storms. This image dates back to the Fall of 1999. After a series of poundings from the ocean, including Hurricane Dennis, much of the pier had collapsed. The pier house was completely destroyed. These gentlemen weren’t locals, but may have fished there at times.    

I don’t think pay phones exist around here any more and this particular one may have been one of the last vestiges of that technology. Needless to say, the pier was closed and the phone didn’t work. I can only imagine the many folks that used this telephone. Surfers called their buddies if the waves were good, or teenage girls huddled around it talking to friends.

Remnants of the original pier house was strewn all over the beach. Bobby and Dickie Ferrell had built it with cypress from their Currituck sawmill. The weathered siding was still beautiful. I salvaged many of those boards and saved them for projects around my house.

Much shorter than it used to be, that old pier has been rebuilt and repaired constantly. Not only has it been a fishing experience but a social one as well. Its battle with the sea continues.