Chasing Rainbows

Chasing a rainbow implies unattainable or delusional objectives. When you see a rainbow, you can’t walk up to it and touch it. Physically it’s always out of reach. They’re elusive. Yet they’re one of the most beautiful natural phenomenon on earth.

They can reveal themselves unexpectedly and last only moments. I’ve tried shooting them countless times. By the time I see them and react, they’ve peaked, and faded away.

This past Thanksgiving Day was an exception. My 92 year old mother was in town with two of my sisters and other family members. To be with them was a special gift. As Denise and I were driving to Avon to join them for dinner, we noticed some faint colors beginning to appear to the east along the beach.

Ramp 25 was the nearest beach access and I walked over to start shooting different vantage points. It just kept filling in, getting deeper and deeper.

Through the viewfinder, I saw too much to take in at once.

By the time I worked my way down to the surf, the sun was getting lower with colors peaking.

Unexpected, it was truly a gift!

A Rose for Marilyn

Last month on the 26th of October, we lost someone that meant so much to so many people. Marilyn Midgett was an important part of our community, and her passing was an unexpected heartbreaking loss. The day after she died, her daughter and son-in-law came to ask if I’d like to pay tribute to her. As I wrote the following for her memorial service, a beautiful rose bloomed on my deck.

Marilyn was an impressive woman. She was sweet, kind, outgoing and every bit as colorful as her late husband, Mac. She also had the skill to launch one of the most successful businesses on the island.

I remember the first day I met her when my old VW needed some bald tires replaced. In the early 70’s, the only place to do that was the Texaco station near the Rodanthe pier. The garage was a hangout and I was a bit intimidated by the big man inside. Marilyn came out front to help me get 4 new tires installed by Mac. I paid up and was leaving, when she called me back and said she’d forgotten to charge me for the valve stems. She was sharp as a tack and didn’t miss even the smallest details.

Ever since that, she always greeted me with enthusiasm and southern charm. Once you met her, you never forgot her. You always knew when she was in the room. Over the years she hired me for various kinds of jobs relating to art or photography. She insisted that I photograph Martha’s big wedding, and I gladly complied.

Life got tough, loosing Mac and Gary among other things, picking up after a devastating hurricane, but she kept going, being her strong, vibrant self. She was there for us 2 years ago when our friend Robin was on his deathbed. She really cared and I always smiled when I saw her taking walks on the new paved path through town.

Several weeks ago she asked me to frame a beautiful pastel, painted by her grand daughter Claudia. Just weeks ago when I brought the finished product to her, she was so pleased, she gave me another job framing and copying an old vacation photo. As I was leaving, she asked me to load some things in the car for her, to go down and spend the night with her grand daughters. I could tell she was excited at the idea of being with them. She loved her family immensely. That was the last time I saw her.

I will always miss hearing that unmistakable sweet voice.

Elvin

My last blog entry had me digging into some old black and white negatives. Along the way, it opened up some chapters of my life more than 30 years ago. With most of my photography shot in color, the black and white images have been largely unseen.

One picture that caught my attention was a negative of my friend, Elvin Hooper. At the time, I was living and working in Elvin’s home town of Salvo. There was a northeaster blowing the sound tide out, and he picked me up to go to Brick Creek to look for clams and oysters. It was rainy so I took my Nikonos waterproof camera loaded with some Tri-X film.

I’ve known Elvin ever since I moved here. Always a gentleman, he grew up in the village of Salvo and is a lifelong Hatterasman. The area was completely different then, he was a part of it and he loves to reminisce. He also writes, and has recently published 2 books.

Two years ago, he called me about a cover shot for his first book. Entitled Chicamacomico How it was back then, it’s a fictional piece based on experiences growing up. We chose a Kodachrome slide that I shot of Chicamacomico Coast Guard Station in 1974. It shows a weathered building in an open field with nothing around it. That’s the way it was.

About the same time he had another book in progress, a collection of personal memories called Gull Island and Other Stories. It was just published and launched 2 weeks ago. For me, it has some personal significance in that I spent several years as a hunting guide at Gull Island Gunning Club. For that cover we picked a shot of the club house taken in 1979.

Elvin’s older brother, Burt, also worked as a guide at Gull Island. I got to know him and we became friends. We worked on lots of projects together for the hunt club, and Elvin dedicated the book to him. We used a picture of Burt that I took while we were building a duck blind in 1977.

Books are available through the author or by contacting Gee Gee at Buxton Village Books, 252-995-2420.

The Creek

Back in the day, I used to love hanging out at the Rodanthe Creek. Originally built as a Pamlico Sound access for the Coast Guard, it was bulkheaded and was one of the few protected harbors for local fishermen to use. It was always fascinating to see what they were catching.

It was also a good spot for honing my photography. I bought Kodak Panatomic-X black and white film in 100 foot spools and rolled my own 35mm cassettes. Then I’d develop the film at home in the darkroom. The creek was only a few hundred yards away from my house.

I’ve never shown these photographs from this period before, and it’ll never be like that again.

A young Dale Midgett ran the fish house. He had an entrepreneurial spirit and packed fish for wholesaler Jimmy Austin.

Derelict boats were part of the landscape.

John Herbert’s sail skiff sat high and dry on shore. It was one of my favorite boats with classic lines, and was featured in my New Inlet and Skiff photo, shot in 1979.

Harry Midgett’s trawler was at the dock for much needed maintenance. He eventually took it shrimping to the Gulf of Mexico, where I heard it sank and was lost.

I don’t know who owned this workboat, but I admired it’s design and narrow stern.

Bruce Midgett prepared his nets at one of the fish houses on the north side of the creek.

Bruce and Dale set up pound nets a mile out in the sound.

Bruce loved fishing the pound nets.

Joe Fegundes, known as Jobob, was also fishing from the Creek.

Ed Corely was an avid fisherman. I helped him for a few months. It was hard work. Ed moved to Coos Bay, Oregon to work on an ocean trawler. On a New Years Eve, he went down with the boat and was never found.

Selby Gaskins, Jr. was always helping out at the fish house.

Martin Maestas and Glen Boykin were gill netting from this Privateer. Fiberglass boats had become more common than the traditional wooden boats. Glen married Selby Jr’s sister, Teresa, and I shot their wedding.

Irvin Midgett was another young fisherman, and still fishes some today. He runs a successful campground and is always willing to help others.

Back then, Dale Midgett made a decent livelihood as a fisherman.

One of my favorite shots was taken of Mac Midgett’s haul seine rig. In a way, it symbolizes the best of times.

One Big Job

Last month I saw, for the first time, a finished job that I had worked on last Fall. It involved making photos much larger than I ever imagined.

Collaborating with the owners, we came up with a complete photographic wrap for a 45 foot motor coach.

It’s always nice to view published work, but this was done to another dimension.

Bringing up the rear is the Cape Hatteras Lighthouse as shot in 1996 when Hurricane Edouard passed offshore.

Starting out on a road trip, the coach drove by my studio one evening, honking one big hello.

Michael Halminski Photographer

Waves, North Carolina

Chasing Rainbows

A Rose for Marilyn

Elvin

The Creek

One Big Job