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

Soft Shell Guru

Some of my most gratifying work as a photographer has been freelance jobs for the North Carolina Sea Grant publication, Coastwatch. My work first appeared there in 1981, when it was a fledgling newsletter of just a few pages.

Living on Cape Hatteras, I shared many common interests with Sea Grant, and they began to give me some assignments. Each job was intriguing and put me in touch with some fascinating people.

One of these was Murray Bridges, a commercial crabber. Based in Colington, Bridges not only caught crabs, but he was and still is, best known for his business of producing soft shell crabs. He started Endurance Seafood in the 70’s as a family operated venture, and today at 79 years of age continues to do so. His pioneering contributions to the local soft shell crab industry are legendary.

I met Murray in May, 2001 for a Coastwatch story. He was very friendly, engaging and loved his work. These are a few of my shots using a Nikon F100 with Fujichrome slide film.

There were well over 100 tanks connected with plumbing, all for the purpose of molting crabs.

The crabs have to be attended 24 hours a day.

Peelers await to shed their shells.

Murray picked up a nice buster for me.

A pile of empty shells was evidence of past shedding.

Once packed in wet eel grass, they’re cooled and ready for shipment.

In season, they move them out by the thousands every day.

I enjoyed my visit, and went home with 4 dozen soft crabs.

Fishing with BJ

When I moved to the island decades ago, some of the first people I met were transplants from Michigan. Tim and Karen Merritt were a young married couple that had relocated to Salvo a couple of years prior to my arrival. Along with them was Tim’s long time friend, Brian Huff. They grew up with each other. Better known as BJ, he was different than many of my newfound friends in that he didn’t surf. He loved walking the beach, enjoying the place, its people, and he truly loved fishing. We became close friends.

1972 was a good year for drum fishing on the Hatteras Island Fishing Pier in Rodanthe. As a matter of fact, it was the same year that Elvin Hooper set the world record with a 90 pounder. In this photo taken by a pier employee, Tim Merritt (left) and BJ Huff (right) display their big drum, also known as channel bass. They were in excess of 50 pounds each. The pier was longer then, and the best fishing was in the worst weather.

A few years later in 1975, the locals were catching some sizable sharks, mostly late at night. It took BJ over an hour to land this hammerhead. There were some appreciative onlookers that night. They posed with BJ for this photograph. From left to right: Bruce Midgett, Larry Midgett, BJ, Butch Luke, Tim Merritt and Jimmy Hooper. The shark was cleaned and all the meat packaged. Our freezer was stocked, that is until we tried eating it. It was full of cartilage and unpalatable. As much as we didn’t want to waste any, it all had to be thrown out.

New Inlet up on Pea Island was one of our favorite spots. I used to walk out on the old bridge, and hang strings with chicken necks over the side. I always brought home a good catch of hard crabs. At one point, BJ learned where the deep holes and channels were located. He would cast sting ray grubs on to the edges and catch flounders or speckled trout. I took this photo of him casting in 1975.

BJ enjoyed fishing the waters of Pamlico Sound. Our friend Gary Bishop had a boat and took us out at Hatteras to a spot called the cobia stake. It was named for a channel marker piling near the inlet. In this photo taken around 1976, BJ reels in a nice cobia. Gary caught two. By the time we made it back home, it was getting dark. We went to the pier at Rodanthe to weigh and clean them, when I took this photograph below.

BJ and I were roommates for about 2 years. We lived in a trailer in Salvo rented from Barbara Midgett for $200 a month. It had 3 bedrooms. One for each of us, and one for my darkroom. During that time, our lives were relatively carefree. All we worried about was making enough to feed ourselves and pay the rent. BJ also had the pressure of making payments for his nice GMC pickup truck. Most of us drove vehicles that had tendencies to break down. BJ was always kind enough to let us use his dependable truck in a pinch.

March of ’78 was a cold one. We kept warm by chopping wood gathered on the beach. There were plenty of oak planks washing in back then. Note BJ’s 16 foot wooden skiff in the background. He bought the boat from Les Hooper.

Inside was warm and cozy, even when the electricity went off. We had no TV, only a KLH turntable to spin a meager record collection. We listened to jazz and blues, mostly. The parlor stove was given to me by my Aunt Jo. She had just moved out of an old house, in San Marino California, where General Patton was born. That stove was a very functional piece of history. We used a cinder block to replace the missing rear legs. The stove eventually cracked and fell apart. To replace it, BJ bought a big pot bellied stove from Les Hooper.

BJ did a lot of beach-combing. Most of the time, he’d bring home some seashells or driftwood. Sometimes the bluefish would be running, pursuing bait and other fish. One day he caught this nice trout without a fishing rod, picking it up with his bare hands, right off the beach. Photograph below was taken in 1977.

Another day in 1977, BJ found something very unusual. We had no idea what it was, and used it as a bookend for over a year. As I recall, it also made a good door stop.

My girlfriend at the time was a college student, and very curiously took it to be examined at the Smithsonian in Washington. It turned out to be a 10 to 20 thousand year old molar from a wooly mammoth, a significant find indeed.

Around 1980, BJ and I were building a saltbox in Buxton Woods for friends, Jim and Marcia Lyons. During construction the fishing got good, so Jim and BJ left for a short time and returned with a stringer of gray trout. We always ate well.

In 1980, I had been working for Alex Kotarides a few years. He owned a large bakery in Norfolk, but had an estate in Salvo. I did waterfowl hunting guide work for him in the winter. Other times, I worked odd jobs for Alex, including construction of the new house, raising ducks and geese, then a stint at commercial fishing that Spring. I got BJ to help me.

We used 3000 yards of gill net, plus had access to Alex’s small fleet of boats. We fished half the nets in shallow water near Gull Island. The other half we set in deeper water past the reef. We had good results, out catching the locals nearly every day. In this shot taken by BJ, I had just pulled in a nice red drum from the deeper water. It was a beautiful sight to behold, glowing in the submerged net below. We were fishing in a 23 foot Sea Ox at the time.

Other times we fished from a 21 foot wooden boat, called Falcon, built by Willy Austin in Avon. It had an inboard 4-cylinder Ford Pinto engine set up for marine use. It was a nice handling boat with a full keel. We loaded up with fish for a month before retiring the rig when the bull nosed skates migrated through Pamlico Sound.

That was the last fishing I did with BJ. He went on to live in Avon working construction, got a girlfriend, married her and they had a baby boy. They moved back to Michigan, and split up after a while.

I didn’t see BJ for years. He remarried, had a daughter and moved to Charlotte. He came back briefly, perhaps 20 years ago. He did some exceptional restoration work for us at the Chicamacomico Lifesaving Station, then returned to Charlotte.

After a prolonged absence from the island, BJ suddenly showed up at my gallery door one day just a few years ago. Expecting a gallery customer, I must have had an expression of un-recognition on my face, only to hear him say, “BJ”. I knew then, it was my good friend again.

I could tell that he missed Hatteras Island, yet still felt a close connection. He returned several more times, looking up lots of old friends. He seemed to rediscover himself. It was great to see him again. He returned Spring of 2011 and spent the weekend with me.

Back in Charlotte, he kept in touch by telephone. A pain in his shoulder caused him to see a doctor. It was cancer. I spoke to him a few more times before Hurricane Irene. The storm made our phone service go down. BJ tried to call again, but was unable to get through. I didn’t speak with BJ again. He passed away on September 6, a week after the storm. He was 61 and will be missed by many.

Thanks for the memories, BJ!





Homage to C.E. Midgett

When I made the villages of Rodanthe, Waves and Salvo my home, it didn’t take long to realize that it was also home to a cast of colorful characters. Among these native residents was Clarence Midgett, better known as “C E”. His family history goes back many generations on Hatteras, and it has been documented that they were some of the original settlers coming to the island after surviving shipwrecks centuries ago.

C E’s great-grandfather and namesake, Clarence Ezekiel Midgett was a member of the early US Coast Guard. Stationed at Chicamacomico during World War One, Midgett took part in the famous Mirlo rescue of 1918.  They saved the lives of 51 sailors from a burning British tanker that had exploded offshore after running into a German mine. C E was really proud of that legacy.

C E was also fortunate to have grown up on the island when the atmosphere was much more rural than it is today. The spaces were wide open then. The island world was their “oyster”. You could hunt, fish, surf, party and even work unencumbered. There were no crowds to get in the way. I must admit that C E was probably a part of what secured me to this area. The native folks are a unique breed, generous, mostly independent and don’t require much to get by. They still are my kind of people.

In the 70’s and 80’s, C E was a part of a crowd of locals that I used to hang out with. You could always tell when C E was around. You could hear him talking and laughing louder than anyone else. Like many of the native sons, he loved to fish, either from the pier or commercially, with nets in the sound.

Most likely, you could find C E around the creek in Rodanthe. Here he works on a skiff with his cousin Bruce Midgett (right), while D B Midgett (left) looks on. Photograph was taken 1975.

C E Midgett at the Rodanthe creek as a “Marlboro Man”, 1974.
C E sits atop a catch of big bluefish in 1974.
C E Midgett also had his moments of mischief. This time he drove this Falcon station wagon off into a ravine in Nags Head, near the present day Village Golf Links. The cops came and didn’t even give him a ticket.
Bruce Midgett (left) celebrates Midgett Day with C E in 1975, on the hood of his Ranchero.
Gerald O’Neal and Richie Austin converse in the background.
C E competes in the oyster shoot at the Old Christmas celebration in 1985.

Sadly, C E passed away on October 23rd after a prolonged illness.

Rest in peace, my friend.

The Catch

With nearly all the net gathered back in the skiff, the only part remaining in the water is the bunt, or the bagging end of the net. This is where the catch is contained.

The Gray boys tighten up the bunt, as the oils in the fish cause a slick on the water. Left to right is Belton, Collins, Belton Jr. and Charles Farrow.

Then the bailing begins.

Using his dip net, Collins Gray harvests the catch.

Belton Gray bails fish into the bow of the boat.

Now the fish are 2 feet deep in the bottom of the boat. They continue scooping fish. The high point of the day, I am amazed at what I see. It is one of the most incredible things I have ever experienced.

Knee deep in croakers, Collins radios Dale Midgett at the fish house in Rodanthe that they’ll be coming in with about 100 boxes. At 100 pounds a box, that’s 10,000 pounds of fish.

Belton coils the anchor line for the ride back to the creek.

At the fish house, the Gray boys pack out, with Belton Jr. working the boat.

Larry and Dale work at culling the catch.

In his Wanchese bedroom slippers and barefoot, Larry Midgett cleans up the last of them.

Those Gray boys really knew how to catch fish.






Longhauling

Almost like it was yesterday, I can still see the white longhaul boats on the water of Pamlico Sound. The Pamlico is one of the largest estuaries in the United States, and the longhaulers look for massive schools of fish that inhabit those waters near Rodanthe every Summer.

Nowadays this method of fishing is not as prevalent as it once was, but in 1980, I went out with a crew from Avon. The owners of that haul seine fishing rig were brothers, Collins and Belton Gray. Known as “the Gray boys”, they were dedicated, hard workers. You would not meet finer people anywhere. And they knew how to catch fish.

Dawn shines on Pamlico Sound as the Gray boys look for fish. Belton Gray operates the run boat as Charles Farrow sits in the net skiff.

Charles tends the net, as it begins to go overboard into the water.

Collins Gray steers the run boat using a bridle adjustment tied to the end of the net, as Belton Gray Jr. assists. Meanwhile, more net goes out as the other run boat pulls the net skiff farther away.

With a few thousand yards of net out, Collins watches as it is pulled in a big “U” shape along the shallow bottom. The “U” is then closed and tightened, encircling the fish.

Collins signals that it’s getting time to close the net, begin hauling it back into the skiff, and “bunting up”,  putting all the fish in a neat little pocket, before bailing the catch into the boat.

The crew hauls the net back in the skiff.

This had already been a long day and the hard work was just beginning. With most of the net back in the skiff, Belton (center) was ready to bunt up and bail fish. Belton Jr. handles the staff on the end of the net.

Stay tuned for the catch of the day.