Category Archives: Weather

Afterthoughts

Nature struck another blow to Hatteras. As the storm cleared out, I gathered my thoughts. This island is created by powerful natural elements. That’s the allure that brought me and many others here. Only a couple weeks ago, we were still in our routines of summer. There were plenty of visitors, the ocean was warm, calm and no storms. With the arrival of Fall, things changed almost overnight.

Weather forecasting predicted an event that found many folks unprepared. The low pressure arrived with a bang, throwing tremendous waves at us. It happens often, but tourism remained in place despite the threat of over-wash across vulnerable roadways. In the end, this storm has made its unique signature added to a list of many in the past.

A vegetated dune is the first line of defense.

Dunes bow to the power of rushing water. At the KOA, a walkway spanning a once high dune, is sheared.

Sandbags are a desperate attempt to save infrastructure.

In Rodanthe, Ocean Drive sits behind a row of oceanfront cottages. They’ve been digging this out for years. Storms past have claimed at least two houses here.

I thought about people happily congregating around these picnic tables at Camp Hatteras just days ago.

Over-washed sand covers half the campground now.

Debris and broken asphalt litter the ground.

I was drawn to a lone pine seemingly awaiting its fate.

Each event we can learn how to live better within these elements. Nature is deemed destructive when man defies it, and highway 12 is a good example.

Now what?

Emily

Each Summer my mind drifts to what a hurricane season might bring. It’s hard to describe the feeling when one’s bearing down. Different hurricanes can have similarities, but no two are exactly alike. As strength increases, so does the anxiety.

Toward the end of August 1993, the fifth named storm, Emily was heading our way. On the 31st, it strengthened to category 3 with an eye about 50 miles wide, centered 25 miles to the east of Cape Hatteras. That put Buxton and Frisco in the eye wall. The unofficial highest wind gust there was reported to be 107 miles an hour, but I’d venture a guess from hearing locals, it must have been higher.

Boarding every window on my house, I hunkered down with Denise and close friend Tim Merritt. Tim had sent his wife, Karen and young son off island. I checked the barometer while getting a phone call from WTOP-TV in Washington, and gave an on-air live report. The barometer read 978 millibars. When the wind switched northwest, the water in Pamlico Sound rose quickly. There was flooding in Buxton and Frisco that almost never had that inundation before.

The next day after Emily passed, I drove south, noticing damage along the way.

The sound side of Buxton took the brunt, with around 10 feet of storm surge and high winds.

Near the Scott Boatyard, was a shattered mobile home court.

Live oaks were uprooted rather than broken.

In Buxton Woods the cleanup was ongoing. Cars were flooded and pines snapped like matchsticks.

Crews from NCDOT and Cape Hatteras EMC had their work cut out.

Rob and Susan West were stacking cords of wood.

I visited Mark Nash in Frisco. His wife Barbara evacuated with their daughter while he stayed home. His story, how the tide came in from Pamlico Sound when the wind switched, was harrowing. Standing inside with knee deep water rising, he put on his wetsuit and climbed out the bathroom window on the lee side of the house. The waterline came to the bottom of the window.

Perhaps one of the top five storms I’ve experienced, I’m not the only one grateful to have gotten through it.

A Cold Winter

When first settling down on Hatteras Island, I was impressed how temperate winters were. Those first few years, never dipped below 40°. By1977 though, that changed when I watched Pamlico Sound freeze. Combined with hard northwest winds, it made life a bit uncomfortable, especially since I heated with a tiny wood stove. Still in my early twenties, I was a lot tougher then.

Exceptionally cold winters seem to come in cycles. This year was proof, when it dropped to 22°. We had only a couple inches of snow, while up north it was measured in feet.

Behind my house, the Pamlico Sound froze 200 yards out from the shoreline. It was unusual, yet not totally unheard of.

A few times in the past, I’d seen it freeze hard for as far as one could see. In 1996, it did just that. It was thick enough for Gary Midgett to drive his truck out on it.

During that same event, Temperatures were in the teens as I drove out on the beach. Waves lapped on shore freezing instantly. The atmosphere had an eerie, static feeling. I set up a tripod with a mounted Pentax 6×7 film camera in the bed of my Dodge, snapping several exposures of a rare frosty occurrence.

As the sun set behind me, I took the last shot. It was and still is the coldest day I’ve ever experienced on Hatteras Island.

Tongers of Tilghman Island

I’ve been reviewing lots of photographs from decades ago. Many are all but forgotten and bring back memories, like images I took when working out of Tilghman Island, Maryland.

While crewing aboard the dredging Virginia W, there were times when large portions of Chesapeake Bay froze, leaving the fleet of sailing skipjacks tied up at the dock.

Hand tongers however could reach areas still free of ice to get their harvest. Less efficient in catching oysters, it’s environmentally more friendly to benthic marine life on the bottom.

The shafts on hand tongs can reach lengths of 20 feet or more.

Tongers load the culling board while another crew member saves the good oysters and dumps the detritus overboard.

A more efficient way to use tongs is hydraulically. Called patent tongs, they’re much larger and mechanically harvest more than hand tongs. At the same time, this method can be more destructive to organisms on the bottom.

Working with hand tongs is brutally physical. Imagine the workout you’d have at the end of a day. These watermen worked from a classic Chesapeake Bay dead-rise boat, Mina Conway. For them it was just another day at the office!

Snow Job

The National Weather Service measured 8 inches of snow in Waves. It was relatively unusual, and it seems in the last 50 years, we’ve had a similar event about every 10 or 12 years. I’ve seen snowfall amounts a couple times, as much as a foot deep.

This recent storm was fun and visually stimulating. Although blowing a gale, temperatures never dropped much below freezing. It was exhilarating to be the first person to make footprints toward the beach near my home.