Category Archives: Outer Banks

Surf’s Up

There was a time when surfing consumed a huge part of my life. I checked the waves every morning to dictate the course of each day, so it became a natural progression for me to photograph the ramblings in my surfing world. When the waves got really good, I was often torn between being a surfer or a photographer. Sometimes one action would be sacrificed for the other. Either way it was fun and exhilarating.

I used to shoot a lot of black and white in the early days, and bought film in 100 foot rolls and hand rolled them into individual cassettes. In 1973, I swam out at the Cape Hatteras Lighthouse and shot Frankie Lagana, one of the Buxton boys. My waterproof Nikonos was a great little camera for that intimate perspective.

Mike Wingenroth had a lot to do with my decision in moving to Rodanthe. He and his wife Mary Jo moved there earlier and put me and Louie up for a while. Mike is shown here in Summer of 1974, for an early morning surf north of town, with Bear at his side. It was a time when taking an unleashed dog on the beach was not a big deal.

My room mate Louie Batzler was, and still is a brick mason. We worked locally building foundations and walls. Being self employed had the advantage of leaving a job when the waves got good. Louie was the boss, so when he said “more mud”, I mixed a batch of mortar. When he said “surf’s up”, I went surfing. Louie was riding a “Hot Dog” surfboard when I made this shot at The Shoals, north of the Rodanthe pier in 1975.

A lot of great surfers have ridden the beautiful waves at the lighthouse’s first jetty. From my water perspective, Greg Loehr was one of the best. He arrived among a contingent of surfers from Florida in the early 70’s. This 1975 photograph was used by Natural Art Surf Shop to screen t-shirts, and more recently on the sign outside their store in Buxton.

Bryant Clark was another good friend of mine, and a component of the Delaware crew. Bryant and his brother Brent, along with Rich Parolski had a company called “Hot Dog Surfboards“. Brent was the shaper, and Rich was the glasser. Bryant did all the glossing and artistic finishing to their boards. Here he is on a nice overhead wave in 1974, riding a fish design at the outside bar at New Inlet.

Robin Gerald and I were nearly inseparable surfing partners. We lived near one another, and some people even thought we were brothers. In an extended sense, we were. Here Robin slides into a glassy wall at the old S-curve in 1978.

Kiel Jennette was still in high school in 1977. He was the adopted son of the last Cape Hatteras Lighthouse Keeper’s son, Rany Jennette. Kiel had a great smooth style of surfing, and was a pleasure to watch. This was taken during a beautiful 3 day swell at the lighthouse. I often wondered if he was skipping school for these waves. Years later, Kiel became quite an accomplished trim carpenter. Unfortunately his life was cut short in an altercation with a noisy neighbor. Kiel confronted him, and as he turned away, the neighbor shot him in the back.

Jimbo Brothers was one of the Nags Head surfers to frequent the Rodanthe breaks. In this early 80’s photo he ducks into a pretty curl north of the pier.

One afternoon in 1984, I walked out on the Rodanthe Pier, and was lucky to see a surfer from Florida in the lineup. Tall and lanky, Mike Tabeling had a very powerful style.

!989 was a good year for tropical cyclones. My cousin Johnny Halminski is from California. He visited me that Summer, and got a good dose from an offshore depression while paddling out at the Rodanthe Pier.

For a while I thought that I’d pursue the life of a surfing photographer, work for a publication and even move to Hawaii. As I got more immersed in life on Hatteras, I could see that my career exclusively as a surfing photographer was not to be. I gravitated toward a variety of other local subjects. By the 1990’s shooting the surfing action became more of a side line to supplement my other work.

Renewal

This is a time of renewal. Rather than celebrating Spring as a turn of the calendar page, I see Spring coming about in the natural world around me. I spend a lot of time in the wetland behind my house. Specific plants and animals exist there, highly adapted to this aquatic and terrestrial environment. They are fascinating to watch, living in completely flooded conditions one day, and nearly dry the next.

This time of year, the marsh turns from brown to a rich green color. New growth sprouts from the muddy ground, giving way to new life.

Salicornia, commonly called glasswort is a fleshy, salt-tolerant plant that stores water and salt in its tissues. It springs up from the ground this time of year, growing throughout the Summer. As a young plant it is edible and tasty. I have had it in salads, no salt needed. By the time Fall arrives, it becomes a brilliant red.

Another sure sign of Spring is when the fiddler crabs emerge from their winter burrows.

On another front, this is a unique Spring in that our community is rebounding after a hurricane. Things are getting some state of normalcy. Some old things taken out, to be replaced by something new. Edward and William Hooper’s house was torn down 2 weeks ago. Now that was a tough one.

Things continue to change.

Moving Experience

Among the many changes that our area has undergone recently, one was the relocation of the historic Salvo Post Office.

When I first moved here, it was all the way on the south edge of town, in front of Melvina Whidbee’s house. In this 1975 photo, Miss Melvina raises the colors for another day of work.

Built in 1910, it was always moved to where the postmaster lived. It’s my understanding that it was originally located near where Dan Leary’s store stood, shown in this 1977 photo.

When Edward Hooper became the postmaster in 1979, it was moved in front of his home.

Edward and his younger brother William, had to leave their home of many decades. The flooding from hurricane Irene inundated it, making it uninhabitable. It is ruined. They are now both living in a home in Nags Head.

The Hooper home now sits vacant and crumbling.

On a beautiful day in 1978, I took this family portrait in front of the Hooper’s. Edward and William stand beside their mother Mariah, flanked by neighboring nieces.

Around Thanksgiving of 2010, I shot this picture of William and Edward relaxing on the porch. I had just fixed a broken window pane in their kitchen that was letting the weather in. It was a very pleasant visit with them.

Last month some volunteers moved the tiny post office from Edward’s up to the Salvo Fire Department. It will be fixed and maintained to save it. The fate of the Hooper property is uncertain, but I can visualize the old house razed and replaced by a McMansion.

Workers remove the flagpole to prepare for the move.

Up, up and away.

Bill Barley’s forklift expertise is a key ingredient for the transition. Jimmie Hooper stands by.

This was a rare, once in a lifetime experience.

Half-way there.

Steve Ryan lends a helping hand.

Once officially deemed the second smallest post office in the country, the building settles into it’s new location.

In the meantime, Miss Elsie’s new house is well underway. It will be a solid structure to resist future storms.

Miss Elsie’s Place

Two weeks ago Elsie Hooper’s house was torn down. It was a relic of a home. Her husband Les passed away several years ago. He had told his children when they were growing up, decades ago in that same building, that the original part of the house was well over a hundred years old.

On the morning of February 1, a demolition crew arrived, to take down the house that had survived a multitude of storms, and had sheltered generations of family. When Les and Elsie married, they bought the old house from a nearby property, and with the help of neighbors rolled it to the location where they would raise their family. I suspect much of the house was built with hand tools, and as years passed and the family grew, it was added on to accommodate them.

Elsie and her grand daughter Amanda, take a last look at the interior of a home that housed love and memories.

Hand hewn beams supported a floor in the original part of the home.

Two of Elsie’s children and granddaughter came to lend some emotional support for an ordeal that must have been very difficult.

Well into the demolition, I can only imagine what was going on in Miss Elsie’s thoughts. Her past hopes, dreams and memories going into a pile of rubble. The heartfelt values of any thing left are intangible and within her soul.

Amanda comforts her grandmother.

Elsie looks on with daughter Sharon, and son Jimmie. Nothing could prepare you for something like this, yet I was amazed at their resolve and strength.

A few things were saved, like this beam taken from a shipwreck.

Jimmie Hooper holds some of the hand carved wooden pegs that held the roof rafters together. He plans to make a coat rack with them, for the new home that he’ll build for his mother.

Miss Elsie combs the ground for anything that will give her good memories. Knowing my affinity for oyster shells, she dug some up from around the house and handed them to me. She mentioned that she and Les had shucked and eaten many big oysters there.

Elsie’s new house will be built on the same spot as the old home. The concrete walk ways from the old house were once part of the long-gone Gull Shoal Coast Guard Station. They will be reused for the new house.

Considering the predictions of rising sea level and potential of future storms, I would venture to say that this new home may not have quite the longevity as the old one.

Ship Timbers

The treacherous waters off of Hatteras Island are known as the Graveyard of the Atlantic. Remnants of old shipwrecks can still be seen periodically as the shifting sands reveal these artifacts. Interestingly, these ships were frequently salvaged for their timbers.

Timbers from the Loring C Ballard rest on the beach south of Salvo.

Years ago, I watched Pete Covey replacing a sill of a home built in the late 1800’s. The old sills were timbers from a shipwreck, and a piece was discarded. Back then I used a wood stove to heat my house, and when I put a chain saw to it, the sparks flew, and the saw would barely cut the wood. As it turned out, the wood was very old heart pine. I gave up cutting and had to replace the ruined chain. That wood was extremely tough.

Since Hurricane Irene, I’ve noticed a couple of other homes built incorporating the timbers savaged from wooden sailing ships.

Levene Midgett’s home was built in the 1920’s. Levene was a keeper at Chicamacomico Coast Guard Station. This building’s sill is framed with 4×16 heart pine timbers, and is in beautiful condition. It was flooded to the first floor windows during the storm, and has been raised significantly to avoid future flooding.

This massive timber supports an exterior deck.

Floor framing detail under Levene’s house.

Looking up at the main sill supported by new pressure treated lumber.

The massive beams look as good as the day they were salvaged.

There’s still a lot of work to be done so that Levene’s descendants can reoccupy the house.

Another home affected by the flooding was Elsie Hooper’s place in Salvo. I have recently learned that this building is well over 100 years old, and unfortunately is scheduled for demolition. The inside was stripped out in hopes of saving this relic, exposing parts of it history.