Category Archives: commercial fishing, boat, pamilco sound, gillnetting

Working Waterfronts

Over 5 decades ago I moved to Hatteras Island. Things were a bit different back then. Hatteras 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

 

 

Why I Live Here

People ask, how’s the photography going? My answer can vary, but it depends what I’m working on. Nowadays I’ve cut back shooting, to spend more time editing and archiving what’s accumulated. I’m a photographic hoarder. I maintain and store what I shoot in a reasonably categorized fashion, so when looking for particular images, I can almost always find them. There are a few missing in action, others may have been inadvertently tossed. I just do the best I can.

I have boxes of saved work prints. Many shot with film, others taken with digital cameras that I began using in 2003. For the above image I spread some 10 inch prints across my work table and photographed them from above.

They show some of the reasons why I live here. So to answer that first question, it’s good!

One Lunger

Back in the 70’s, Woodrow Edwards was our postmaster in the village of Waves. The post office located in his home had maybe a dozen PO boxes and general delivery. Woodrow was always engaging. Current events, the weather or politics, you never knew what the morning’s topic might be. It wasn’t uncommon for him to ask for some help around the house. One day he asked me to help clear some vacant lots across the highway. I’d get the going rate of $3 an hour. I hardly ever turned Woodrow down.

Upon clearing the land, we discovered the remains of an old boat. Still on board was a curious looking motor. Woodrow called it a One Lunger, dating back to the 1920’s or 30’s. It was made of cast iron, and extremely heavy. 

After removing some vegetation the shape of the boat became more apparent.

The narrow stern indicated this must have been a sail skiff converted to engine power. It was about 20 feet in length.

With no transmission attached, it must have been direct drive. As soon as it starts, you’re underway.

Remnants of the engine may still be there, although the wooden carcass long gone.

These engines were also known as “Make and Break Engines”. Click this link to see one running.

The Old Make and Break

Commercial Fishing

Moving here decades ago, introduced me to a culture of commercial fishing. It was a livelihood that captured my attention. I spent lots of time watching newfound friends hauling in their catch, sometimes prolific, many times not. I hung out at the creek where locals kept their boats and packed fish. It became a passion for my photography.

Old wooden boats had beautiful lines, particularly the traditional shad boats, like these in the background of this 1985 photograph. I noticed the wooden workboats were being replaced by ones built of fiberglass.

Shooting this 1980 image, I was especially taken by four shad boats tied up at the Beasley fish house in Colington. I would see them frequently long hauling Pamlico Sound at Rodanthe. Originally designed to use sail power, most had been converted to using gasoline engines.

I revisited that same fish house two weeks ago. The shad boats were gone, the building in disrepair. Some fishing was still apparent but it was not the same. For me, the scene symbolized the decline of independent commercial fishing enterprises, and made me sad.