Category Archives: Pamlico Sound

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.

 

 

Working Waterfronts

Several decades ago Hatteras Island was a bit different. The island had yet to be discovered by the masses and many locals made livelihoods from the sea. I was particularly taken with the commercial fishing industry. On the sound side of all seven villages, there were small working waterfronts where individuals could keep their boats and bring in the catch. Today those waterfronts are all but gone.

The village of Avon originally known as Kinnakeet had one of those waterfronts. That’s where generations of native Kinnakeeters had lived, and worked on the water. I saw this place as a hidden gem.

While wandering the Avon Harbor in 1977, I photographed a wooden workboat that lay derelict in the marsh. It was about 40 feet long and beautiful. With rounded stern, dead-rise design and distinctive trunk cabin, it could have been a sister ship to the Albatross boats built in Marshallberg, NC. The Edwin Jr. had seen better days. Little did I know at that time, it was a precursor to a way of life in decline.

The Albatross Fleet

I’ve long appreciated the Hatteras-based charter boats known as the Albatross Fleet. Amongst all of the local offshore charter boats, the Albatross Fleet stands out. All three boats are undoubtedly the oldest around still operating. Over the years I’ve enjoyed opportunities to  photograph them. 

In 2000 I was offshore shooting anglers looking for bluefin tuna while Albatross III was trolling nearby. The appealing design and sheer of the boat struck me.

The boats have been docked in the same place for several decades. I shot them again in 2005 during the Day at the Docks event.

Red and white bamboo outriggers have long been an Albatross Fleet trademark.

While checking out the Hatteras waterfront in 1990, I saw the original 1938 Albatross hauled out for repairs.

Most recently a fundraiser was begun to help a local 5 year old girl, Milly King who was diagnosed with a rare form of leukemia. Hundreds of people have stepped forward to raise money for her expensive treatments. Two of those pitching in to help are Ernie and Lynne Foster. Ernie’s dad initiated the island’s charter fishing business back in 1938 when he built the first Albatross. The history is fascinating.

Albatross History

Ernie and Lynne volunteered to offer sunset cruises during Spring weekends for a $200 donation for Milly. I jumped at the opportunity to book a May trip, and asked my wife, Denise and 4 of our friends to come along.

We got underway aboard Albatross at 6:00, leaving Albatross II and III at the dock.

We settled in relaxing and taking in the sights.

Everyone had a great time with refreshments, snacks and some occasional gossip.

Eric Anglin’s ceviche was a huge hit with the crew. It’s the best I’ve ever had!

It was a great experience for us all. Captain Ernie and Lynne were wonderful hosts for the worthy cause. We share concerns about a healthy environment, appreciating our history and giving back to the island community.

To learn more about Milly’s journey, read this story.

Community rallies around “Mighty Milly” King as Buxton family begins leukemia fight

 

 

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.

 

 

Night Flight

A few years ago after a day on Ocracoke, I was catching a late ferry back to Hatteras, and noticed gathering seagulls awaiting our departure. As the ferry boat captain made way into the blackness of Pamlico Sound, he searched for channel markers with a flood light. Birds flew in and out of the beam picking up any bait fish attracted to it.

I experimented with some long exposures and liked one shot, revealing extended paths of individual gulls. Night Flight was taken using a 200mm lens at f/4 with a shutter speed of two seconds.