Category Archives: history

William and Edward

When I first moved to Hatteras Island, I noticed how special the locals were. Some families had lived on the island for generations, their ancestors arriving here as victims of shipwrecks. They were isolated and not affected by the outside world very much. I admired their simple, resourceful lives.

William and Edward Hooper were born and raised in Salvo. William worked in Norfolk for a while, but other than that, they were here all their lives. They were brothers and best friends. You would hardly ever see one without the other, and mentioning one almost always required mentioning the other. They were inseparable and the kindest people you’d ever meet.

Edward was widely known as the Postmaster of one of the smallest post offices in the country.

They were always hospitable when I visited them and would sometimes invite me for dinner.

One of my last visits was November of 2010. Eating at the kitchen table I noticed a window pane had fallen out and I volunteered to fix it.

When I returned the following day to work on it, they came out and stood under an old fig tree to chat with me. I asked if I could take their picture, and they said yes.

Little did I know that 9 months later, Hurricane Irene would sweep through and drastically change their lives. The flooded family homestead was no longer habitable so they were displaced to an assisted living facility.

Edward passed away a year and a half later and William 8 months after that.

They were 91 and 83 respectively.

I miss them a lot, and am reminded how things never remain the same on this beautiful barrier island that we call home.

New Inlet

One of the first places I explored on Hatteras Island was New Inlet on Pea Island. The old remnant bridge that’s still there, was built after the storm of ’33 cut an inlet from sound to sea. As a result, traffic was interrupted on the sand road, so the state began construction of a bridge to span the troubled spot. The new inlet filled back in on it’s own, and the state halted construction before it was completed.

I used to walk out precariously on that deteriorating, unfinished bridge to catch hard crabs on baited strings. It wasn’t uncommon to come home with a few dozen nice ones. Since then, New Inlet has always brought me a feeling of wonder and tranquility.

I wasn’t the first one to get enjoyment there. Long before, there were fish camps where locals could hunt and fish for sustenance. It must have been a beautiful, bountiful outpost.

One of the first photographs that I made at New Inlet was taken in 1979 as I was testing a brand new 400mm Novoflex lens for the first time. I parked my truck on the shoulder of highway 12, stood in the bed and made 4 handheld, identical exposures to see how the lens worked. The shot later became a somewhat iconic image as the cover of Hatteras Journal, written by Jan DeBlieu.

I took a similar shot in 1982. John Herbert’s sail skiff, once again, served as a crucial element in the composition.

By January of 1985, the fish camp once owned by St. Clair Midgett had dropped from it’s foundation into the water. Later that same year, when Hurricane Gloria blasted through, it took what was left, completely away.

In May of 1985, I shot this smaller camp just northwest of St. Clair’s. It too was taken out by Gloria.

Vintage Surf

It’s been a year since my lifelong friend, Robin, passed away, so I’ve been contemplating our relationship and good times. It’s hard to believe it’s over and done. We all have opportunities to love and enjoy life, and Robin certainly did. What a gift!

His worldly possessions have been dispersed as he wanted. Among the items he left me was a fairly large collection of photographs. He was many things, hunter-gatherer, prolific reader, jack of all trades and surfer. Most people don’t realize the amount of photography he produced.

I spent last winter going over thousands of photos he made since his early teens. Many of those images were inconsequential personal memories, but there are many that have merit.

Taken from the north jetty.

Of particular interest to me are Robin’s photographs contained in an album from his early days surfing at Indian River Inlet in Delaware. I didn’t know him then, but it’s about the time I learned to surf a 9’6” Bing there. It was a good wave and a good place for a young surfer to make friends and integrate into a new lifestyle.

These old Polaroid photographs taken in 1967 and ’68 are one-of-a-kind originals.

I think Robin is on the far right, the others are unidentified.

I don’t know where this Polaroid was taken, but it looks typical of rural Delaware. A 19 year old Robin stands between two unidentified friends while changing a flat tire.

A few years later, surfboards got a lot smaller. Robin took this snapshot of his team mates from Gemini Surf Shop out of Rehoboth Beach, perhaps about 1970. Dave Isaacs, Gary Revel, Jeff Ammons, Bryant Clark, Brent Clark, Skip Savage, Karl Gude and one unidentified. Who knows who he is?

When most people take a picture, they don’t realize they’re making a historical record. As a photographer, I didn’t intend the pictures I took many years ago become history. But in retrospect, I see a lot of value in old photographs, the older the better. If I had it to do all over again, I would opt to do much more shooting of people or things that I routinely took for granted.

Skipjack and Cold Front

I’m often asked what my favorite picture is. The answer is that I can’t single out any one, from many preferred images.

One of my most endearing shots was taken the day before Thanksgiving, 31 years ago. I was into my second season of oyster dredging on the Chesapeake Bay, aboard the sailing skipjack, Virginia W.

There were reports that the day before another workboat, Hilda Willing, had dredged its limit of 150 bushels near the mouth of the Choptank River. With oyster populations in steady decline, that was a rare occurrence.

So early that Wednesday morning, all the Tilghman Island skipjacks set out for the same spot. There was no wind, however an approaching cold front was forecast to sweep in. We had our sails up ready to work. A light breeze began to fill in, though we were still underpowered and moving at a slow pace, barely able to pull a single dredge.

Skipjack and Cold Front-1982- prints available on request

As was typical of my working the middle deck, throwing the starboard dredge, I had my Nikonos rangefinder camera by my side. The massive clouds of the cold front began rolling in, getting closer. I looked over to see the Sigsbee, full sails up, waiting for wind. I took 6 shots, then put my camera away.

The front was an ominous sight as we prepared for more breeze. We tied 4 reefs in the main, deployed a second dredge and began catching a few oysters. Our speed increased, a gust of wind hit, and the boat heeled over, filling my right boot with sea water. There were some tongers working nearby, and maneuvering was tight. Coming about for another lick, we had a near collision with one of them, our massive bow sprit crossing over his cabin top.

By that time it was blowing a gale, and impossible to control the boat safely. We dropped our sails, deciding to call it quits after bringing in 4 bushels and headed home for the Thanksgiving holiday.

Hunter, Gatherer

More than once, Robin told me that he was a living anachronism. From his early years as a kid in Delaware, he was already interested in hunting, fishing, trapping and archaeology. He loved the natural environment as a gift, and learned how to use it.

By the time I had him as a neighbor here in Waves, he was quite adept at all of those interests. At times, for our small band of surfing brothers, he was a provider.

With a light dusting of snow, the geese were flying by in formation. Robin got 3 right off the bat behind our trailer in Salvo. 1977

Robin had just shot this deer in Buxton Woods, and came by to show BJ and me when we lived in Salvo. Susie, his black lab was a great bird dog and didn’t normally hunt deer with him.1977

Robin would often jump shoot for his water fowl. In this 1985 photo,he used my chesapeake bay retriever, Boca, for some teal hunting.

In this 1991 photo, Robin was free diving for fish over the 1891 shipwreck, Strathairly. His spear fishing exploits were largely successful.

In 1978, the S-Curve area had a wave that walled up beautifully and was uncrowded. Robin rode a single fin 6-10 winger-pintail that he made. He was not using surf leashes yet, and was about the only one in the water that knee paddled for his waves.

Robin and I went clamming on Ocracoke Island frequently. In 1994 we raked this nice basketful.

Michael Halminski Photographer

Waves, North Carolina