Category Archives: Pamlico Sound

Longnet Rigs

One of my most memorable impressions upon moving to Hatteras Island was to see locals earning their living as commercial fishermen. I had never seen anything like it before, and harvesting a bounty from the sea seemed a miracle. In the northern villages where I lived, the focal point of fishing activity was at the harbor in Rodanthe, known as “the creek”.

I used to hang out at the fish houses where the boats came in to pack out their daily catch. It amazed me to see them returning with hundreds of pounds of bluefish, trout, croakers and a myriad of other species.

When the longhaul rigs came in, they had catches in thousands of pounds. Longhauling, also referred to as longnetting, is a haul seine technique utilizing a huge length of net, sometimes a mile long. A longnet rig consists of three boats, two engine powered boats and a net skiff. At times, there would be four or five rigs working out of Rodanthe at the same time.

Two boats from a crew that came down from Colington, 1982.

Note the beautiful upward sheer line of the shad boat on the left, 1982.

Another rig from Colington, photographed in 1990.

Mac Midgett’s longnet rig at the creek, 1977.

View from atop Dale Midgett’s fish house, June 1982.

Sailing shad boats, converted to motor power, were preferred for their load carrying capabilities.

The Gray Boys rig from Avon, tied up at the fish house across the harbor, 1982.





After the Blizzard

It’s amazing how snow changes this landscape. It usually doesn’t stay around long either. Now as I write this 4 days later, any remnant of snow is completely gone. Other than during the blizzard itself, there was only one day to photograph it, before most of it had melted.This is the view looking north from Ramp 23, south of Salvo. We had just dug a friend’s car out of the snow, only to find others getting stuck out on the beach. We yanked a big jacked up Tundra, that was buried to the axles in snow and soft sand.

The marsh behind my house became a winter wonderland.

The water temperature in Pamlico Sound dropped to 28, leaving a 6 inch layer of slush ice on the surface.

Meet Hairy. He’s 9 months old. This was his first snow.

As the sun began to set, I ventured out to finish my snow shots.

FINI….

Aftermath

Things are calming down quickly. The rain has abated, and the sound tide has rolled moderately enough to not flood my workshop under the house. 

The beach was a sight to behold, blown clean by wind and tide. Enormous waves breaking into the offshore wind.

Ray Murray checks the surf after Hurricane Earl has passed.

Show Time

My Summers are not what they used to be. It seems that I get caught up more in photography business, than surfing and hanging out at the beach. Now there are more people than ever coming to the Outer Banks, and I don’t blame them. The place speaks for itself. So now I make hay while the sun shines.

Lately, I’ve been occupied printing, matting and framing not only for my gallery inventory, but also preparing for an exhibit being held at the largest gallery space in the area. Roanoke Island Festival Park in Manteo is hosting a group show that will feature my work along with two other local photographers, Ray Matthews and Eve Turek. Our theme is one of my favorite subjects, the weather.

We hang our pieces next Thursday, and the exhibit will start with a reception, open to the public on Sunday, August 1st from 2 to 4 PM. 

Since I’ve got this on the brain so much, I thought I’d give a sneak preview of a few of my prints.

Taken last Fall, this breaking wave was formed as a result of Tropical Storm Ida.

The past winter was unusually cold here. I made this photo in my back yard after brisk northwest winds sprayed water from the Pamlico Sound, forming icicles on the marsh grass.

This image of the Pamlico Sound was made several years ago with my medium format film camera. As you can see, the sound was frozen well offshore. The chilly winds blow the water toward the shoreline, where it is built up as striations of ice on the surface.

An unusual weather shot, this waterspout appeared in 2005.

It should be a fun and extraordinary show, so consider yourselves invited.

Spawning

This is a time of year when new life is born to maintain a continuance of species. Signs are all around us. Much of it is obvious, as in nesting birds or budding plants. But much of it we cannot see, unless we look closely. Take the eastern oyster, for example.

For as long as I’ve lived on Hatteras Island, oysters have been a fascination to me. Whenever I go collecting, it’s apparent that they grow in certain areas more than others. I notice that even in those more prolific spots, that the oyster population has generally been in a steady decline. This is attributed to over-harvesting, water pollution, parasites and lack of substrate material for new oysters to attach and grow.

Mature brood stock oysters emit egg and sperm into the water column, which in turn combine to produce eyed larvae, the beginning of becoming a true oyster. A scientific collection permit has allowed me to gather brooders for my own oyster garden spawning. I also donate collected brood stock to the aquaculture program at Carteret Community College and to the University of North Carolina Coastal Studies Institute at Cape Hatteras School.

Several years ago I attended an oyster conference in Morehead City, where I saw a number of scientists and people like myself looking for answers. It was here where I met Dr. Kemp. He runs the aquaculture program at Carteret Community College. A number of us got together and founded Shellfish Gardeners of North Carolina. We are interested in growing oysters, not only as a recreational activity, but also as a way to help the environment. We have had workshops to learn more about life cycles, water quality and to educate others.

For oyster gardening in eastern Pamlico Sound, Skip Kemp has been my mentor.

This has evolved into a network of people compiling and studying data. I collect water quality data for the Citizen’s Monitoring Network out of East Carolina University, and also compile information for the Oyster Spat Monitoring Project based at University of North Carolina in Wilmington.

Past data indicates that now is a prime time for local oysters to be spawning, so I have to keep a sharp eye out to see if there are any new oyster spat.

These eyed larvae have attached to an oyster shell and are 1 day old oysters.

This composite image shows new oyster spat at weekly intervals beginning with 1 week old at the upper left and 4 weeks old on the lower right. The initial growth rates are dramatic. The ruler scale is in centimeters.


These are almost 5 months old.

Yearlings can come in different sizes, depending on environmental conditions.