Category Archives: beach

Why I Live Here

People ask, how’s the photography going? My answer can vary, but it depends what I’m working on. Nowadays I’ve cut back shooting, to spend more time editing and archiving what’s accumulated. I’m a photographic hoarder. I maintain and store what I shoot in a reasonably categorized fashion, so when looking for particular images, I can almost always find them. There are a few missing in action, others may have been inadvertently tossed. I just do the best I can.

I have boxes of saved work prints. Many shot with film, others taken with digital cameras that I began using in 2003. For the above image I spread some 10 inch prints across my work table and photographed them from above.

They show some of the reasons why I live here. So to answer that question, it’s going good!

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.

 

 

Erin Intrigue

No two hurricanes are exactly the same. As destructive as they can be, they’re awe-inspiring. Over the years, I’ve experienced many. I’d rather not document devastation, but instead the natural display they can produce. Hurricanes are best seen from a distance.

Thanks to modern meteorology, the storm’s forecast was spot-on. With high predictions to stay offshore, we decided to hunker down at home. Depending on the level of anxiety, one can either board up or not. In this case, we didn’t. Our strongest wind maybe gusting to 50, occurred on the backside, after Erin passed Hatteras Island. Rainfall was negligible and my barometer bottomed out at 996 millibars.

The evening before the hurricane made its pass, I walked to the beach to take it all in.

I was rewarded with a sliver of color as the sun set behind me.

Vegetated dunes took a beating with sea oats and beach elder holding fast.

Adding to the show, impressive cloud formations twirled above.

Thanks to the positioning of a frontal system, the main core of Hurricane Erin missed us, recurving offshore.

It was a close call and the result could have been much different. A bullet dodged. And this is just the beginning of a new hurricane season!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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.

Never whiteout conditions, the snowfall was moderate yet lasted nearly 20 hours.

The seas were lively, but the real show for me was the beach.

Wind-driven snow continued as I checked different vantage points.

The dunes can be a treasure trove of possibilities for a camera.

While the tendency is to shoot horizontally, vertical compositions can be just as effective.

What the environment has in store for its next show is anyones guess!

 

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!