Category Archives: beach

Latest Casualty

Yesterday morning I heard that the yellow house at the end of Buela O’Neal Road had just fallen on to the beach. Of the latest casualties, this is one of the older ones, a modest beach box. It may have been built in the 70’s or early 80’s. There was a light rain coming down, but I went to look anyway.

The owner had been working with local government and Park Service officials on trying to save the house. His insurance company would not help. In order to collect through the federal flood insurance program, the structure has to have been already damaged or destroyed by flood (encroaching sea) before collecting. I hope this owner was covered.

Now the remnants will be all over the beach, creating an unsightly and potentially dangerous condition. This is nothing new. It happens time and again. There is little incentive to save these imperiled structures.

There is something wrong with the system that repeatedly allows this to happen.

This is the view looking to the south toward the Rodanthe Pier. So much for our pristine beach.

The Grommet House

An accountant from Northern Virginia by the name of Myers, owned a cottage on the oceanfront in Rodanthe. It was a ramshackle place, built at a time when, if there were any building codes, they weren’t enforced much. The Myers family used to spend Summers there. Two of their kids were Worth and Gladys. They partied with the locals. In the winter, two of my friends Carlen and Dave, rented the place.

Robin and I surfed in front of it for years. It had a consistently good breaking wave and the mainstream surfers from Virginia Beach hadn’t discovered it.

A bit of a landmark, I photographed it for a period when I thought it was going to wash away. I saw the Rodanthe oceanfront nearly every day, checking the waves and exploring. What I didn’t realize at the time, was that I was also witnessing a complex process of barrier island dynamics. It fascinated me, how the beach environment reshaped with each storm.

Then the surfers from the north began coming. And as surfers will do, they name a spot after something they can relate to. From then on it was dubbed the grommet house. Grommet is surfing slang for a young or beginning surfer. In the longboard days, they were referred to as a gremmie. The Grommet House became a popular, packed out surf spot, but by then Robin and I moved on to other secret breaks to elude the crowds. We were always one or two steps ahead of the masses.

The Myers cottage gets some weather in March of 1980.

The house was still holding fast in 1982, and the beach made some accretion. The dune line in the background would later shelter a subdivision called Mirlo Beach.

The driveway got pummeled into the sand.

The ocean eventually took over, and the house fell into the sea.


Holiday Interlude

Christmas is unlike any other time of the year here. I’m often torn between traveling to see my family or staying home on Hatteras, to enjoy the solitude and nature of this wonderful place.

Holiday business was down and other than the dump trucks pummeling highway 12, there was little human activity. I got caught up on everything, sent out greeting cards and finished a small photography job.

With some time on my hands, I decided to stay on the island, relax and look for things to photograph.

One of the last times I used the 4×4 section of highway 12, I took a shot to record the moment.

With new pavement in place, workers were busy installing a barrier of sandbags, in hopes of protecting the highway. Seas have since washed over it, and sand is constantly being trucked in, to maintain a beach buffer.

Asphalt rubble from the old road was stockpiled, until it could be taken away.

To allow for construction, the S-Curve has been open to one lane traffic only. During the holidays, this was the view heading north.

The view looking south didn’t look any more promising.

As long as the road is passable, we can receive essential supplies.

The “corridor” just south of Oregon Inlet has also been an ongoing battle. Heavy equipment removes sand blown onto the road, only to have it blown right back. One could hardly find a better example of a vicious cycle.

It was predicted that the world was ending on December 21st. I celebrated by driving out to Cape Point during a gale. I was all alone to enjoy the place completely enveloped by nature.

Leaving my truck in the distance, I walked out to the point.

The wind and waves coming together, gave me a spectacular show.

Surfers were calling this “The Doomsday Swell”.

The most interesting spot was right on the point looking east. This is where two powerful forces meet. The south bound Labrador Current collides with the north bound Gulf Stream. Due to seas washing over the beach, I had to walk a quarter mile with a rising tide, to access the point.

One nice thing about coastal storms is experiencing the aftermath of clearing weather.

Rainbows are common yet elusive.

On January 5th, the Old Christmas celebration in Rodanthe marked the end of our holiday season. Larry Midgett joined me in bidding adieu to Old Buck, led by John Edgar.

As caretaker, John Edgar will put Old Buck out to pasture until next year.


A House on Dean Street

Mirlo Beach isn’t the only area around here loosing houses. Over the years, dozens have gone in from Rodanthe Pier, all the way north through Mirlo. In recent months, the entire oceanfront has seen even more dramatic changes. The road at s-curve is an ongoing battle, and houses on the beach at Rodanthe are more at risk than ever. Nature has an uncanny ability to find a weak spot, and wash it away.

Years ago, when things were less developed, it wasn’t a big issue. But since then, Rodanthe has been significantly built up. Now it’s causing problems.

Right after Christmas, I walked south from East Point to Dean Street. It used to be my neck of the woods, my old back yard. Now many landmarks are gone, claimed by the sea, and I can hardly recognize the place by those standards any more.

Buildings that used to be three or four lots back from the water, are now derelict on the beach…. or even gone. They are getting caught in the grip of a geologic process that won’t stop.

A relatively new house sits precariously on the beach behind Chicamacomico Lifesaving Station.

A condemned yellow beach box is north of Dean Street.

Walking up to this structure at the end of Dean Street, I could tell it wouldn’t stand much longer. Tons of sand have been washed away, greatly compromising the foundation. I’m told that it was built about 5 years ago.

Viewing from the south, this has a “domino effect” look.

Two days later, it collapsed into the ocean.

Debris is strewn all over the beach, like a shipwreck.

The building continues to break apart.

The Graveyard of the Atlantic claims yet another victim.


Sandy Waves

Yesterday the hurricane surged sound tide, flooded our town and streets. We waited it out with our vehicles stowed on higher ground, unable to drive anywhere. My vehicle of choice became a pair of chest waders. I walked to the ocean front to take in the spectacle of hurricane surf. The center of the storm was passing to our northeast, and the winds were howling from a westerly direction.

The beach was strewn with debris. There were pieces of houses and decks.

And there were pieces of Rodanthe Pier. This is the end, complete with rod holders. Lumber is a precious commodity, and I wish I could take it home with me.

After seeing powerful storms for most of my life, I’m still in awe with the experience.