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

Buxton Woods Boat Works

In the early 70’s, there was a small migration of people that transplanted to Hatteras Island. They came because they enjoyed the island for what it was and what it provided. The surf, the fishing, the serenity were just some of the things to savor. The kicker was to somehow find a way to make a living. Some went into commercial fishing, restaurants, real estate or construction.

Mike Scott went into the boat building business. At his Buxton Woods Boat Works he made dories for the commercial fishermen to haul seine from the beach. He also did a lot of boat repair jobs. As he got busier, he hired Richard Ryder to help.  Richard was also a transplant, and like everyone else was looking for ways to make ends meet. He and Mike were not only good friends, but also excellent craftsman.

This 1977 photo shows a Mike Scott dory in use. Here Dennis Midgett on the left, and Pete Smith haul net in the stern to make another “set”.

With more repair jobs still coming in, Mike asked me if I wanted to help them out for a few months, so I began sometime in February of ’82. We restored two old shad boats that had been converted from sail to mechanical power. One of them belonged to Lee Peele, standing here on the right. It turned out to be a complete overhaul and it was a beautiful boat. Mike Scott stands proudly on the left.


This shad boat belonged to another Hatteras fisherman, Mark McCracken. We replaced some rotten planks and gave it an epoxy treatment.


Then Mike got two orders to build boats. One was a 24 foot, flat bottomed net skiff for a longhaul rig. The skiff took only a few weeks to finish, and was simple in design. For me, it was a perfect introduction to boatbuilding. It taught me a lot about “dressing” rough cut lumber, working with power tools and epoxy techniques. The lumber came from a small sawmill in Camden, operated by Mose White. Note the shad boat in the shop.


The other boat ordered was a 39 foot dead-rise, commercial fishing boat, designed after the Albatross II. Based in Hatteras Village, the Albatross Fleet has been around for years. They are tried and true, built in Marshallburg, NC.

Beautifully designed as very seaworthy displacement hulls, they are unlike the more modern, over the top, planing hulls. All the Albatross boats have rounded sterns, but this new one would have a square stern with rounded corners. It was made for “Big Bill” Foster, and would take over 6 months to construct.

The original Albatross was built in 1937.


The keel and bow stem are the backbone and were cut from yellow pine , then the heart cypress bottom frames were fastened to the keel… then the side frames installed.

The planks made from atlantic white cedar, are bent and fastened into place.


Richard Ryder applies epoxy to the finished hull.


Once outside the unpainted Mamacita is ready for a cabin.

Years later in 2007, Mamacita is still an active fishing boat.

Today Mike Scott is a boat captain and runs charters on the Albatross lll.

Richard Ryder went on to work for Hinckley Yachts in Maine, then began his own business called Union River Boat Company.

I left Buxton Woods Boat Works in September of 1982 to dredge oysters on the Chesapeake for the next 2 winters. See earlier post on Chesapeake Bay Skipjacks.





Modern Day Shipwrecks

Often referred to as the Graveyard of the Atlantic, the ocean off the coast of the Outer Banks is  littered with hundreds, if not thousands of shipwrecks. Before modern modes of sailing, navigation and weather forecasting, commercial shipping was a more dangerous proposition than it is today.  Vessels transiting these waters however, still encounter problems.

I was reminded of this as I wrote a previous blog entry about the Sheila Rene running aground at Oregon Inlet. Similarly in October of 1977, as I was driving over the Bonner Bridge, south to Hatteras Island, I noticed a capsized trawler in the water next to the bridge. It was the fishing vessel Tosco. It was coming in the inlet with a 10,000 pound catch of flounder, when it ran aground and crashed into one of the bridge’s concrete piers. With a gaping hole in the hull, it sank right there on the spot. The boat was an estimated $100,000 loss, and the bounty of fish was also lost.

The Tosco at Oregon Inlet in 1977.

When most people think of shipwrecks along our shores, they think of the wooden sailing ships of the distant past. One of the last such wrecks was that of the GA Kohler. Built in Delaware in 1919, it was a 4-masted schooner, just over 200 feet long. Washing up in a 1933 storm, it is significant as marking the end of an era. It lay upright on the beach and was stripped in the war effort for materials, and subsequently burned. Some of the old artifacts, like wooden timbers, compass and even dinnerware, are in local homes today. The remains of the GA Kohler are currently buried beneath the beach sands near Ramp 27, but on rare occasions the remnants are uncovered by the ocean.

This photo from 1989 shows my friend Robin Gerald inspecting the stern section of the GA Kohler.

Since then, maritime mishaps have become less likely, and rare. Most of the activity on coastal waters nowadays pertains to sport or commercial fishing boats, and private yachts, among others. 

One exceptional event though, occurred in January of 1976 . It was during a freezing northeaster. I awoke in a bitter cold mobile home and couldn’t open the north door to get out. It had been frozen shut during an ice storm. The entire north side of the trailer was coated solid with 2 inches of ice. Once I got outside, I looked toward the beach and saw a sight that I could not believe. A 500 foot World War II liberty ship, Betelgeuse was washed up and towering on the beach. The moth-balled ship was being towed by a tug offshore when the storm hit with a vengeance. The tug, unable to handle the situation was forced to cut it loose. The ship sat on the beach for over a month until salvagers managed to move it, but not before Mac Midgett tied a line to it, claiming salvage rights. It was said that he made a few thousand bucks for his effort.

The World War II Liberty Ship washed in during an ice storm in 1976.

1987 was a banner year for stranded fishing boats. Here the Sweet Lady sits on the beach at Rodanthe, just yards from the pier. It was abandoned offshore during a storm as the crew evacuated via Coast Guard helicopter. It came short of hitting the pier, and was eventually salvaged.

The Hard 8 came ashore in “the hook” at Cape Point that same year.

When the Miss Manhattan washed ashore in 2000, it had hit the Rodanthe pier, and was dismasted in the process. It was salvaged.

The Sly Fox came ashore on Pea Island around Christmas of 2004… not so sly any more.

They say that one problem on the water, especially during severe weather, can turn into multiple problems very quickly. With distressed vessels in the Graveyard of the Atlantic this seems to be a common denominator.

Sound-side Flooding

The oceanside beaches and waves are what originally attracted me to Hatteras Island. But once I got established as a resident, I realized there was more to this barrier island. The Pamlico Sound, or bay side, is a unique and precious resource. I was really impressed by it’s bounty for the commercial fishermen navigating those waters. The Pamlico Sound, one of the largest estuaries in the country, is tranquil and beautiful. But I soon learned that it could also turn stormy and treacherous. It has claimed the lives of three of my personal friends, all commercial fishermen.

A cold front coming up the Pamlico Sound is a sure sign of changing weather.

Tides are generally driven by the gravitational pull of the moon. This is true, but the Pamlico Sound tides are mainly generated by wind. Winds blow the relatively shallow water from one side to the other. Here in the Rodanthe, Waves and Salvo township, winds from a westerly direction push the higher tides in our direction, while depleting the waters on the mainland side of the sound. Whenever we have a substantial west wind, we can get inundated by tides so high, that roads and properties get flooded. It’s times like this that a little elevation means everything.

In 1986, Charley went right up the middle of Pamlico Sound. Fortunately it was a minimal hurricane with winds of only about 80. The above image shows the commercial fishing harbor in Rodanthe with seas coming over the bulkhead and on to the roadway.

In 1999 a category 5 hurricane, named Floyd, made landfall in South Carolina. It wreaked havoc on the mainland to our west, but spared us with minor flooding and winds of only about 50 mph. Here I drive my old sacrificial Dodge truck through high tide near my home in Waves.

My yard during Floyd was under 2 feet of water. Here my neighbors, CE Midgett and Dale Midgett wade through the floating debris.

Conversely when winds wail from an easterly direction, the water on our sound side falls, sometimes enough to expose the bottom for a mile out, like during this northeaster in May of 2005.

The most severe tide that I’ve seen in over 36 years was during the March storm of 1993, when we experienced westerlies of 100 miles an hour. This was caused by a powerful low pressure system advancing up the east coast, not off shore, but centered to our west. We had tides driven 8 to 10 feet above normal. That day the sound waters met the ocean dunes. Cars were ruined and homes damaged by flood.  I had 4 feet of water in my yard, not to mention the breaking waves. Old timers say it was the worst flooding since the storm of 1944. Our worst case scenario is to have the eye of a powerful hurricane going right up the Pamlico Sound.

Just last week we had westerlies of 35 to 50, with higher gusts. The water came up quickly, although not with the ferocity that I’ve seen before. It was just enough to disrupt business as usual, and cause a nuisance. The tides were about 4 feet above normal. So I had several inches of tide in my yard. Portions of highway 12 were under 1 to 2 feet of salt water, not good for the life of transiting vehicles.

This last storm brought about 8 inches of sound tide in my yard. Home sweet home! The drill starts with vacating vehicles from the premises and parking them on higher ground.

My west property border meets the sound. As you can see, the vegetated wetland absorbs much of the wave action. I don’t understand it when people building on the Outer Banks clear cut, remove this buffer or fill the marsh. It’s really all that holds this sandbar island together.

This shot was taken last week, February 10. I wonder if this driver has a captain’s license.

Excessive tides have always been a way of life on Hatteras. It’s something that requires readiness and preparation. Sometimes it’s predictable. Other times it’s more of a surprise. It’s not a matter of if, but when the next one will occur.

Caught between a rock and a hard place

Oregon Inlet is a place notorious for vessels in distress. I’ve seen it through the years, as man has tried to tame the inlet. Today I heard about a fishing vessel stranded on a shoal up there. I don’t know the circumstances, only that it had run aground.

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When I arrived on the scene, northwest winds were blowing a gale and temperatures were below freezing. It was bone chilling just to go out on the catwalk to get a better vantage point. The Coast Guard Station at Oregon Inlet stood by with their 47 foot motor lifeboat.

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This being just another incident of curiosity on the Outer Banks, I hope no one is injured in this mishap. I also am hopeful that this boat can be saved in tact. Commercial fishermen have a tough enough livelihood as it is, without loosing their boat.

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P.S. The “Sheila Rene” was returning to Wanchese with a recent catch of fish, said to be about 10,000 pounds when it ran up on a shoal. The trawler was freed Sunday evening and has been towed back to port.

Camera with a View

I am an admirer of some of the great masters of early photography. It was not only their vision that made the work great, but in many cases, the types of equipment used. They didn’t have the huge array of advanced cameras to choose from, like we do today. Things were a lot more primitive. 

 

One of my favorite early photographers is Edward Weston. He shot with an 8×10 view camera. Can you imagine a finished 8 inch by 10 inch negative? His black and white prints are exquisite, and have a tonal quality and sharpness that is hard to describe. In 1978, I had the pleasure of attending a photography workshop in Carmel, California, where I studied under his son, Cole.

 

Working in 35mm, I could see the superior quality of large format photography. I examined gallery prints made by Ansel Adams, Edward Weston and his sons Brett and Cole, among others. When I got back home on the east coast, I wanted to apply some large format in my own work. View cameras are expensive. But when I saw an ad in American Photographer  for a kit to build my own 4×5 view camera, I jumped at the chance. For $85, it included the lens plate, ground glass, bellows, shifts and tilts, everything except a lens. My friend Allen Jones who was attending RIT at the time, scored my Ilex Acuton 215mm lens for $250 in Rochester.

 

camera

The assembled 4×5 view camera kit, designed by architect, Les Fader

 

Using the finished camera became a learning experience, and I made some mistakes. There were issues with light leaks between the film holders and the camera, and sheet film developing techniques, but I eventually kinda got the hang of it. On the windy, often stormy conditions of the Outer Banks, the bulky view camera has it limitations. So I used it mainly for still life compositions around commercial fishing harbors. 

 

 

EdwinJr

The “Edwin Jr.” derelict at Avon Harbor

 

crabber

Crab Skiff at Avon Harbor

 

net skiff

Net Skiff, Rodanthe Creek

 

shad boat

Shad Boat, Rodanthe Creek

 

Collins Gray

Longhauler, Collins Gray at Rodanthe Fish House

 

Narrows

Knapp’s Narrows at Tilghman Island, Maryland

 

Chicamacomico

Chicamacomico Winter, 1980

 

snowdune

A Dune near Buxton

 

whelk

A Tribute to Weston

 

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Broken Glass, Rodanthe Creek

 

I made about 60 Tri-X negatives, then decided to put the camera away. It was a lot of effort to use. And as photographer Ernst Haas, once told my class, shooting with a view camera was “like carrying the cross”. In a way, that wasn’t far from the truth. Besides at the time, it didn’t quite fit my style of shooting. I never even printed most of the images.

 

Then a few months ago, I found some negatives stored, with silica gel, in an old ammo box. For the past month, I’ve been making prints. Some beautiful 16×20’s too. I can’t tell you what a refreshing change it is from the popular digital shooting arena. Printing in black and white again is like finding an old long lost friend. Don’t be surprised if you see some new work from this old camera.