After the Blizzard

It’s amazing how snow changes this landscape. It usually doesn’t stay around long either. Now as I write this 4 days later, any remnant of snow is completely gone. Other than during the blizzard itself, there was only one day to photograph it, before most of it had melted.This is the view looking north from Ramp 23, south of Salvo. We had just dug a friend’s car out of the snow, only to find others getting stuck out on the beach. We yanked a big jacked up Tundra, that was buried to the axles in snow and soft sand.

The marsh behind my house became a winter wonderland.

The water temperature in Pamlico Sound dropped to 28, leaving a 6 inch layer of slush ice on the surface.

Meet Hairy. He’s 9 months old. This was his first snow.

As the sun began to set, I ventured out to finish my snow shots.

FINI….

White Out

Visitors to my Outer Banks studio frequently ask about snowfall at the beach. I tell them that it’s not unusual to have a significant snow event every 5 or 6 years. I’ve seen as much as a foot at a time, and it’s frequently accompanied by high winds. Our last big snow was in 2003, so the blizzard that we just experienced on Saturday came in timely fashion.

The local forecast was for us to expect 1 to 2 inches, but once it began to fall and thicken, I had a feeling that it would probably be more. Of course, my agenda then turns to making photographs during that time, but during white out, gale force conditions, it’s not so easy to see what you are shooting.  

The dunes at Pea Island.

Highway 12 looking south in front of my studio.

The driveway to my shop.

Free refrigeration. 

The family car next morning. We ended up with about 8 inches. 

Look for more after-storm images soon.

Another Old Christmas

Our holiday season officially ends with the traditional celebration of Old Christmas. It takes place at our Community Building the first Saturday after the new year begins. This year I had a good time and downed plenty of roasted oysters.

Dave Harvey is shooting a couple of stories for National Geographic, and one of them is about the Outer Banks. I first met him when he was shooting another Outer Banks assignment back in 1986. We attended Old Christmas together back then, so this year was a sort of reunion. Here he works at the oyster shoot. Look for his story in an upcoming issue.

Joey O’Neal demonstrates the fine art of roasting oysters to his son Joey Jr. No doubt, Joey’s dad taught him the same thing. Back on the left, Willy Smith shucks a raw one.

Here comes John Edgar leading Old Buck.

It’s been a long time since I’ve seen anyone mount Old Buck.

Old Buck is led away only to return next year.

When Old Christmas is over, we get one more look at our tree, then take it down.

For more, see my blog entry from the January 2009 Old Christmas.



Grand Finale for 2010

Even during a winter storm, Hatteras Island is a peaceful place to be during the holidays. Over the years, I’ve gone to visit my family in Virginia most of the time. But when I first moved to Rodanthe in 1973, I spent my first Christmas here, away from the family.

Back then there weren’t nearly as many residents as there are now, and the place seemed empty and desolate during the holidays. That Christmas morning 37 years ago, I remember sitting alone on the porch of Valton Midgett’s 2 bedroom rental cottage during a big winter storm. Over the dune tops, I could see huge ocean swells rolling in, and a fierce northwest wind blowing spray off the wave tops, into dark and ominous skies. That image is burned in my mind, and I took no photographs. It was a defining, blissful moment for me.

Although things have changed since then, this Christmas was similar. A lot of locals left to be with loved-ones, and highway 12 was virtually empty and silent. At no other time of year can this be experienced, although hurricane evacuations can come close.

With this recent winter storm in the forecast, I was hoping to see a big snow event here. But all we had was less than a inch of rain, and a light dusting of snow, not enough to blanket the ground.

There were bitter winds coming off the Pamlico Sound. Tides were well above normal, enough to allow sea water to dribble across highway 12 at the S-Curve. With no beach there now, the “renourished” dune line built there by NCDOT is all but gone again. 

I took this photograph from my truck as I drove past the dune at the S-Curve on highway 12.

The old decommissioned Coast Guard Station at Oregon Inlet awaits its uncertain fate. It has been restored and stabilized by the State of North Carolina.

This is the site of a borrow pit at Oregon Inlet, where NCDOT has excavated sand to rebuild dune systems along highway 12.

Those that live here mark storms as a calendar. We associate our memories with certain storms in the past. Even though this one had minor impact for us, it was significant as all storms are.

Each one changes this dynamic barrier island in some way. The beaches and dunes shift about as a result of moving wind and water. The dunes and highway, like many man made artifacts here, are hanging by a thread. None of it is permanent.

 

More Soul Surfers

Soul surfers ride waves for the sheer pleasure and experience, not to prove themselves through contests or competition. It doesn’t matter if someone has an ability better or worse. It really all comes down to one person, one wave and the interaction between the two.

One of my best friends in life has been Robin Gerald. We arrived on Hatteras in the early 70’s, exclusively to surf. Others came and went, but we have remained to this day. In the process we found ourselves a way to earn our livings that would permit us to drop everything when the waves got good. In our heyday, if the surf came up, one of us would know and alert the other. For years, it was sort of an unwritten pact of loyalty.

Robin is shown here dropping into an overhead wall at the old S-Curve site, October of 1976.

This 1998 photo shows Robin on a nice fun wave on the north side of the fishing pier at Rodanthe.

Robin was very adept at waterfowl hunting. He would often provide friends with hearty meals of fish or fowl or both. He was affectionately known as Marshman. Here in 1987, he retrieves a nice black duck from a fresh water pond in Buxton.

Another friend of mine was Ed Corley. He already lived on Hatteras when I arrived, and was an outsider, turned local. A short time later, he was involved in a horrible truck accident that landed him in a coma for 2 weeks. His recovery was slow, but he eventually gained most of his former self back. Ed and I bought 2 of the original Boogie Board kits and did a lot of body boarding together. It was good therapy for him in his recovery.

This photo of Ed was taken in the Fall of 1974 during a swell breaking near the ruins of the original Cape Hatteras Lighthouse in Buxton.

Ed Corley surfing the S-Curve in 1976.

Ed on a nice left at Salvo Shipwreck, 1974.

Ed chose commercial fishing as a way of life. Like many of the locals that fished for a living, he did it more because he loved it, than the financial rewards. This is a shot I made in 1977 when Ed, holding a sturgeon, was gillnetting in Pamlico Sound. He later went to work on offshore fishing trawlers, and relocated to Coos Bay on the Pacific coast. It was there that the boat he was working on sank on a stormy new years eve, taking him down with it.

to be continued….