Category Archives: Outer Banks

Holiday Weekend

This morning my rain gauge showed 2 ½ inches of overnight rainfall. Despite that, with Memorial Day here, we’ve officially begun our high season for tourism. The rain from Tropical Depression Bonnie, will likely continue off and on over the next few days. Today is a washout, but yesterday was gorgeous with pleasant ocean breezes. We peddled bikes to the Rodanthe Pier to check things out before the downpour.

Out on the pier, folks were enjoying the sunny sea breeze.

Looking south, it didn’t look like a typical Memorial Day Weekend.

With rain in the forecast, beach goers weren’t packed in as they’d normally be.

The end of the pier isn’t out nearly as far as it used to be. It’s been destroyed continuously by storms and rebuilt multiple times.

In the Summer, there’s nothing like hanging out at the pier. Many of the same people return year after year, building memories along the way.

I noticed the dramatic sky shaping up, courtesy of Tropical Depression Bonnie. The clouds are always beautiful, yet at the same time so ominous.

Salvo Relics

There were some things around in the 70’s, remnants of folks living in Salvo long before me. In retrospect I wish I had taken a lot more pictures of those relics. Each year that goes by brings change. In with the new, yet the old ways deteriorate and eventually are gone. I always enjoyed the rural feeling, especially in the village of Salvo. There were remains there that I saw nowhere else.

The old homesteads were simple and functional. Mr. Perry Farrow’s place was a hundred yards from a trailer that I rented. Cisterns were a common source for water. They called it sweet water.

At the south end of town, the Whidbee place sat in a gorgeous, well sheltered maritime forest. Years later when the surrounding property was sold to a developer, most of that pristine forest was cut down.

Nearby stood an outhouse that no longer served a purpose.

The Salvo fire truck was parked in a lot next to the long-abandoned Community Store that was beginning to fall apart.I never met Miss Kitty, but her old home next to Dan Leary’s store was covered in briars, honeysuckle and poison ivy.

One of the most well-maintained buildings in town was the “Little Church with a Big God”. I remember hearing about Lucy Hooper salvaging timbers from shipwrecks to build it. She was a pillar in the community and by the time I met her, she was getting quite old.

In the old days, the Hattie Creef was a mainstay of Outer Banks travel, and even played a role in bringing the Wright Brothers to Kill Devil Hills for their first flights. The boat was brought to Salvo and made into a most unusual restaurant.

Fathers fished for a living and passed it down to their sons. One day in 1975, I watched as I D Midgett was getting underway from a Salvo creek in a wooden skiff with his sons. This just doesn’t happen here any more.

Winter Storm

Last week, forecasters predicted a low pressure system to develop into a major winter storm for the east coast. Things turned out as expected with snow dumped to the north of us in dramatic amounts. At home, we had just over an inch of cold rain backed by some gale force winds. Oceanfront properties were threatened by large waves but little damage. Sound front properties saw tide surges of about 3 feet as west winds kicked in.

On Saturday the seas were still running with strong westerlies blowing into the swells. This house at Mirlo Beach was awfully close to the action.

The surf and clouds were stunning.

Wave tops were feathering nicely.

Sadly on the sound side, seas were once again beating the shoreline at an old family cemetery in the Salvo day use area. Headstones and crypts were inundated and falling in the water. Other than that, this winter storm posed no serious problems.

The biggest winter storm I’ve seen here occurred 35 years ago in March of 1980. A coastal low was right on us as temperatures plummeted below freezing, accompanied by a foot of snow with northeast winds gusting to a hundred miles an hour. The blizzard brought white out conditions with zero visibility. Sea tide mixed with floating ice and snow flowed through Rodanthe.

Bruce Midgett rescued Robin Gerald from his old house surrounded by 3 feet of tide and drove him to higher ground.

The Queen Cottage was one of the few oceanfront houses in north Rodanthe. I took this picture from the roof of my place with a 400mm lens. The cottage was eventually washed away in a later storm and no longer exists.

As seas washed around the Queen Cottage, I shot this picture from the deck. The ocean was breaking all the way to the horizon.

Looking back from the Queen Cottage I photographed my house amid streets of sea water and ice.

I had never seen a storm like that before, nor have I seen one quite like it since.

Chasing Rainbows

Chasing a rainbow implies unattainable or delusional objectives. When you see a rainbow, you can’t walk up to it and touch it. Physically it’s always out of reach. They’re elusive. Yet they’re one of the most beautiful natural phenomenon on earth.

They can reveal themselves unexpectedly and last only moments. I’ve tried shooting them countless times. By the time I see them and react, they’ve peaked, and faded away.

This past Thanksgiving Day was an exception. My 92 year old mother was in town with two of my sisters and other family members. To be with them was a special gift. As Denise and I were driving to Avon to join them for dinner, we noticed some faint colors beginning to appear to the east along the beach.

Ramp 25 was the nearest beach access and I walked over to start shooting different vantage points. It just kept filling in, getting deeper and deeper.

Through the viewfinder, I saw too much to take in at once.

By the time I worked my way down to the surf, the sun was getting lower with colors peaking.

Unexpected, it was truly a gift!

A Rose for Marilyn

Last month on the 26th of October, we lost someone that meant so much to so many people. Marilyn Midgett was an important part of our community, and her passing was an unexpected heartbreaking loss. The day after she died, her daughter and son-in-law came to ask if I’d like to pay tribute to her. As I wrote the following for her memorial service, a beautiful rose bloomed on my deck.

Marilyn was an impressive woman. She was sweet, kind, outgoing and every bit as colorful as her late husband, Mac. She also had the skill to launch one of the most successful businesses on the island.

I remember the first day I met her when my old VW needed some bald tires replaced. In the early 70’s, the only place to do that was the Texaco station near the Rodanthe pier. The garage was a hangout and I was a bit intimidated by the big man inside. Marilyn came out front to help me get 4 new tires installed by Mac. I paid up and was leaving, when she called me back and said she’d forgotten to charge me for the valve stems. She was sharp as a tack and didn’t miss even the smallest details.

Ever since that, she always greeted me with enthusiasm and southern charm. Once you met her, you never forgot her. You always knew when she was in the room. Over the years she hired me for various kinds of jobs relating to art or photography. She insisted that I photograph Martha’s big wedding, and I gladly complied.

Life got tough, loosing Mac and Gary among other things, picking up after a devastating hurricane, but she kept going, being her strong, vibrant self. She was there for us 2 years ago when our friend Robin was on his deathbed. She really cared and I always smiled when I saw her taking walks on the new paved path through town.

Several weeks ago she asked me to frame a beautiful pastel, painted by her grand daughter Claudia. Just weeks ago when I brought the finished product to her, she was so pleased, she gave me another job framing and copying an old vacation photo. As I was leaving, she asked me to load some things in the car for her, to go down and spend the night with her grand daughters. I could tell she was excited at the idea of being with them. She loved her family immensely. That was the last time I saw her.

I will always miss hearing that unmistakable sweet voice.

Michael Halminski Photographer

Waves, North Carolina