Category Archives: storms

Toes in the Sand

This almost looks like the remains of a relic village from a past civilization. The sands of Cape Hatteras hide many old secrets, like the Lost Colony, shipwrecks and ancient forests. In reality, this is the severed foundation of the first house built on the oceanfront at Mirlo Beach.

As I recall, it was constructed around 1985 and was named East Wind Station. There was a healthy dune in place, and life was good.

It was renamed Toes in the Sand when it was sold recently to a new owner. My 1991 aerial photograph shows East Wind Station sitting behind a lush dune. It’s the house with the brown roof, just left of center.

Today, life is not so good at Mirlo Beach. Property continues to wash away, and Toes in the Sand is being prepared to be pulled to a location that is a little more secure. It’s fate rests on steel I-beams with wheels, on the side of highway 12 .

In the meantime, stormy seas sweep over the beach with regularity. The road is often impassable at times of high water. So when you drive down, it’s best to come at low tide.

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.


Mirlo Beach Today

Two weeks ago I left Hatteras Island for a job in the Florida Keys. The road was washed out so Denise and I rode the ferry to Stumpy Point, a two hour transit to the mainland. It was blowing, and ferry service nearly shut down.

Goodbye Rodanthe!

View on the port side, with a Rodanthe bound ferry passing by.

Seas splash against the starboard side of the ferry.

Upon returning nine days later, we heard the 4×4 road was open, so we made our way south of Oregon Inlet, under police escort at 9 o’clock at night. With moderately brisk winds, the sea was rolling right up to our tire tracks, but we made it. I was amazed in the escalating deterioration of highway 12, compared to a few weeks earlier.

With another low pressure winding by today, I decided to have another look.

Mirlo’s broad side takes another beating.

A property owner’s defense seems fruitless.

The most photographed truck on the island lies abandoned.

The cottage on the right, Toes in the Sand, was the original house built on the oceanfront at Mirlo Beach in the late 80’s. Back then, it was called East Wind.

I just hope the electricity stays on.

A Walk Through Mirlo

Storms are unique experiences, and it’s a relief when they’re over. This time around, we had the luxury of having all our utilities in tact. Other than a little apprehension and loss of conceptual time, life here was not too bad.

The tide was down this morning, so we got the truck and drove north for a walk through Mirlo. I started taking pictures there over 35 years ago, long before the subdivision was developed. I’ve seen the road moved, destroyed and rebuilt multiple times. It has become a wonder and curiosity for me. I hardly ever get bored observing it. Walking it after a storm, I get feelings of deja vu.

It’s a battle of man against nature. Nature is winning and Mirlo Beach is washing away. The sign at the entrance to the subdivision  reads: “Dare to Dream the Impossible Dream”.

An occupant of this house didn’t heed warnings, and had to be rescued during the storm. The hawser supplied by the rescuers is still tied in place.

Here is what’s left of the victim’s pick up truck.

This is Mirlo’s last stand.

Utility rooms under some Mirlo cottages were destroyed .

A leaner stands second in line from the north end.

The cottage on the very end was recently moved back and new piles installed. Ten feet of sand and renovations to the property were washed away. The house is condemned once again.

Pools at Mirlo Beach oceanfront are not a good idea.

The sign at Seagull Street succumbed to the ocean’s power.

Here’s that guy’s truck again. No free parking here.

Recovery will take some time. There’s miles of roadwork, and our only physical link to the mainland is by ferry, again. It’s an island and always will be.

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.